Donally, Claire - Cat Nap (A SUNNY & SHADOW MYSTERY)

“When one door closes, you can only hope that another may open.” Rigsdale’s smile grew wider. “I’m hoping for the beginning of a beautiful friendship here—and maybe some help in getting my ex-wife to see reason.”

His pale gray eyes twinkled as he gave her a cheerful shrug. “I was aware that Jane had a friend named Sunny Coolidge. If I’d known you were so attractive, I’d have introduced myself way long ago.”

He grabbed a chair and settled in across from her. “Look, Sunny. You saw how my former wife treats me. A whole lot of the trouble between us involved money, and now that she has some, Jane is just being vengeful.”

Rigsdale leaned toward Sunny. “If you could persuade her to loosen the purse strings a little—tell her it will get me out of her hair—we could have some fun with that money, you and me.”

Now if I had just met this guy, without the lowdown I got on him from Jane, could he have charmed the pants off me? Sunny looked at that confident smile beaming at her. Maybe. But knowing what I know . . .

“Sorry, Martin, but I don’t think either of those suggestions is a good idea.”

Martin Rigsdale’s smile slipped a little. “Don’t be hasty, Sunny. It could be awfully nice.” Translation: He could be awfully nice.

“I’m afraid you were a little hasty, thinking you could sweet-talk me into doing anything for you.”

The sexy smile disappeared as if it had been snapped off.

It probably was, Sunny thought.

Aloud she said, “Jane has been busting her buns to keep a lot of animals from getting killed. Why should I tell her that any of the money she’s using for that job should go into a private slush fund for you?”

Martin stared at her. “I understood that you weren’t all that tight with Jane—and that you should have gotten some of that foundation money yourself.”

“Arguable, on both counts,” Sunny replied. “But that doesn’t mean that I’d go out of my way to screw her over, especially when she’s using it to do good work.” Time to turn the knife a little. “Maybe you’re getting a bit old, Martin. Seems like that smile of yours might not have quite the same wattage anymore.”

The amorous twist to his lips was definitely gone now. “If you won’t talk to Jane for me, maybe you can warn her. We spent a couple of interesting years together, Jane and I. For richer, for poorer, sickness and health, good things and bad things. She should remember that I was around to see her make some mistakes. Stuff she might not want other people to know about, now that she’s starting this wonderful new life as Saint Jane of the Animals. Tell her that, Sunny. She may decide that my silence comes cheap, all things considered.”

Martin was up and out of the office before Sunny could muster up any sort of comeback. Frankly, she couldn’t think of anything to say—at least, not to Martin.

Sighing, Sunny picked up the phone on her desk and punched in the number of the Kittery Harbor Animal Hospital. Jane wouldn’t like hearing about this little meeting, but it didn’t sound like something a little hot oil could heal.

*

Shadow found himselfwaking from a pleasant nap, not because of a noise, but because of a smell. He jerked awake, sneezing, and opened his eyes to find the Old One spraying a sickeningly sweet scent into the air. What was this? Had Sunny’s father come up with a new way to drive him out of the house?

But no, the Old One headed down the hallway to the kitchen, away from the stink, making beckoning gestures.

Shadow warily trailed along behind to find his bowl almost overflowing with dry food, and on top of that, the contents of one of those cans that Sunny opened only once a week. It would have been nice, except that he’d eaten his fill just before settling down to sleep.

What was going on here? The Old One was pointing to the food, making cajoling noises, when the front doorbell sounded.

The older two-leg swung round and hurried off. Shadow turned from the food and moved silently to the kitchen doorway. He peered around, down the hall, as the Old One opened the door. Oh, now things began to make sense. There was the other Old One, the female. Shadow had seen them get together before—although they’d made it clear they didn’t like him watching.

Maybe the Old One wanted to mark the female with that strange scent. Whatever he had in mind, he obviously wanted Shadow busily eating in the kitchen and far away. Shadow quickly pulled his head back into hiding as the female came in. He didn’t need to look at them to know what was going on. From the sounds of their voices, the two went into the room with the picture box.

Settling back on his haunches, Shadow ignored the food, giving the pair of two-legs a few moments to get settled. He didn’t want either of them stepping back into the hall and finding him sneaking their way.

He heard talk, then silence. They should be sitting down by now. Shadow set off down the hallway at a rapid trot. He paused at the entrance to the room and risked a quick peek. The Old One and his female friend shared the couch. The Old One looked a little annoyed that they weren’t sitting closer. The female had a large bag settled between them.

Her voice was quick and excited as she reached into the bag, bringing out a small, wiggling form. Shadow couldn’t believe his eyes. She’d brought a Biscuit Eater—here? What was she thinking?

Shadow should have been able to detect the scent of dog as soon as the female came in with that bag. That stuff in the air must have overpowered his usually keen sense of smell.

Now the female two-leg made cheerful burbling sounds, showing off the little dog to the Old One. The fool animal was even the color of biscuits, a sort of yellowish cream. As the human female settled the little dog in her lap, she suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the doorway. Shadow ducked his head but stood his ground. It was too late to retreat now; he’d been spotted.

Still making happy noises, the female Old One put the young Biscuit Eater on the floor. The stupid creature stared around, emitting a string of excited yips. Then it, too, focused on Shadow. Stumbling over its own paws, the little dog headed for Shadow, its yipping growing even louder.

Wonderful. It sees something its own size and wants to investigate.

On the couch, the female Old One clapped her hands together, distracting Shadow’s attention. He glanced over toward her, and then saw the other Old One— his Old One—sitting tightly beside her. The human male’s face had an odd, pleading expression as his eyes went from the little dog to Shadow.

What does he expect me to do? Shadow thought. Or is he afraid of what I’ll do?

The little Biscuit Eater continued to bumble its way in Shadow’s direction, still piping with excitement. Shadow had faced off against dogs before, sometimes even fighting with them. They were quick to woof—and just as quick to run when claws came out. But this biscuit-colored dog was obviously young as well as foolish.

Was I ever as young as that? Shadow wondered, looking into the puppy’s guileless brown eyes. Maybe, but he couldn’t remember.

There was no need for claws here. Shadow arched his back and gave the Biscuit Eater an openmouthed hiss.

Whining in distress, the puppy backed away so quickly it tripped over its rear legs. The dumb dog did something else, too. Shadow recognized the sudden sharp reek even through the sweet-smelling cloud that still lingered in the air. Shadow got out of there quickly, as both Old Ones gathered around the little dog, making distressed noises. He’d heard worse when humans discovered cats not using the litter box.