Unknown - 19_Cat_In_A_Red_Hot_Rage

After the applause and cheers from the Circle Ritz tables faded, Nicky went on.

“And, all too briefly to cause the proper stir, Mr. Matt Devine of the Circle Ritz and radio station WCOO-AM. Even before his brief moment in the lineup, he had a gangster nickname befitting a murder suspect, ‘Mr. Midnight of the Midnight Hour,’ where he purports to advise solid citizens on troubles far less felonious than his.”

Amid laughter, the whole room stood up and applauded. Matt stood up to acknowledge their affection, swinging Temple’s and his linked hands high between them in a victory gesture.

“And then I must acknowledge,” Nicky said, “the sleuths who saved the good name of the Crystal Phoenix. We have with us tonight Detectives Morrie Alch and Merry Su of the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department”

To applause and whistles, they stood and took a bow. Morrie wore the usual black dinner jacket and tie, but the tie was Columbo-askew. Su was a revelation in a black sequin-trimmed riding jacket and long, thigh-high slit skirt. All she needed was the whip.

The whistles from the Fontana brothers table grew piercing.

“And, of course, last but never least,” Nicky said, “our own public relations wizard, erstwhile redhead, and resident gumshoe in designer spikes, Miss Temple Barr.”

Temple stood and waved her tiny emerald-rhinestone vintage evening purse at the diners. They laughed when the elderly clasp gave and spilled cough drops she was carrying for Kit onto the tablecloth.

Something small in formal shiny black materialized at Nicky’s elbow.

Midnight Louie sniffed at the contents of his wineglass.

“Ah, that reminds me. A final toast to our littlest but hardly least resident sleuths, whose stout resort to tooth and nail saved our friends and associates from arrest and murder.

“On my left is Mr. Midnight Louie, formerly of the Crystal Phoenix but relocated to the Circle Ritz.”

Louie lifted his head and gazed on the assembly.

Another black form lofted onto the table at Nicky’s left, to laughter and applause.

“And, oh yes, Miss Midnight Louise, currently engaged here in Mr. Louie’s stead and doing a heck of job, Blackie.”

The laughter resonated up to the mirrored ceiling.

Louie patted Nicky’s sleeve, then looked out over the room.

Nicky make a slight face, but plowed ahead. “And I must thank our guest security force, the beautiful and deadly feline fatales, Miss Yvette and Solange Ashleigh, proteges of our esteemed Red Hat Sisterhood celebrity guest, Miss Savannah Ashleigh.”

Savannah leaped to her feet to reveal that she was clad in a formfitting strapless tube of ivory sequins. The gown must have cost a fortune, but unfortunately it only made her look like a very long, pallid, glittery noodle surmounted by a pair of pearl onions.

Fortunately, Solange and Yvette were trained to recognize a curtain call. The long-haired Persians leaped atop the table and began licking daintily at their mistress’s vanilla-caramel ice cream parfait.

Everyone laughed and began sitting again.

Matt’s hand tightened on Temple’s. Their momentous announcement would be the last item on the program.

A heavy silver spoon tapped on a glass, drawing attention.

Someone was quieting down the guests for a final announcement.

Temple craned her neck along the head table to see who. Not Nicky, but Aldo.

How did he know?

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for a surprise announcement among friends. One regarding not murder, but endeavors of the marital sort.”

The crowd oohed and began looking around.

“I am here to announce an engagement.”

Temple tightened her hand on Matt’s. This wasn’t in their personal script, but

“I am pleased and happy to announce that a beautiful and clever redhead—”

Well, it wasn’t back to red yet, and “beautiful” was a little excessive …

“—is engaged to be my wife. Miss Kit Carlson.”

He held out his hand and Kit stood, shakily, next to him. She outshone Savannah with her midnight-blue column of sequins with the batwing sleeves and off-the-shoulder white rhinestone neckline.

A pear-shaped diamond solitaire winked on the left hand she held up before her face so everyone could see.

Everyone at the head table and in the room stood to applaud. Temple’s bare hands clapped together as she and Matt were surrounded by standing people, their own formal stance lost in the celebration.

They sat with the rest, finally.

Kit spoke, the slight vocal rasp she shared with Temple much rougher still, but understandable.

“I came to Las Vegas simply to visit my beloved niece.” She flashed a tearful smile Temple’s way. “But I found a beloved. And almost lost him.” Her voice and head had lowered, then lifted as the actress rose to her own most special occasion. “I imagine I’ll be seeing a lot more of Las Vegas from now on, and all of you dear, delightful people.”

Few would have believed this group capable of more applause, whistles, and hoots, but led by the Fontana brothers, the chaos clamored on for another three minutes. Everybody loves a wedding, or the promise of one.

Matt whispered to Temple during the mania, “We could still add our news to the evening.”

She shook her head. “It’s Kit’s moment. After what she’s been through, she doesn’t need me making an anticlimax.”

“But everyone we know is here, we’re all dressed up to celebrate, and I know you—”

“I can wait,” she told him. “We have decades and decades to go. Kit doesn’t. Can you figure it? Another married Fontana brother at long last. And my very own aunt brought the eldest of the clan to his knees. Go, Kit!! Here’s to the Carlsons,” she said gamely, lifting her glass. “I guess I shouldn’t say `Skoal,’ under the circumstances.”

Matt sighed, despite his grin of surrender, and lifted her bare hand to his lips for a kiss. Right where his engagement ring would have gone public.

Chapter 63

Future Perfect

Temple and Matt stood on his balcony in the dark, gazing down on the shadowy forms of feral cats eating from the dishes they’d all set out for them under Electra’s direction.

Electra was in a mood to embrace everything. Freedom, her small kingdom of residents, even the clan of feral cats who had followed Midnight Louie to the Promised Land.

If Electra Lark had anything to do with it, the Circle Ritz would deliver.

The round Circle Ritz building now had an outer, separate ring like Saturn’s, but this was composed of fur and claw: wild guardian cats.

If Matt and Temple had looked up, they could have seen Electra’s penthouse balcony three floors above. She was hack in her aerie with her mystical Birman, Karma. All was right with the Circle Ritz world.

Except for the one topic that they didn’t bring up right now. Where was Max, and in what condition? That was something for Molina to figure out, and she was obsessed enough with Max to do it.

Temple sighed and inhaled the scent of jasmine on the dry desert air. The long, hot summer was here.

Her hands rested on the balcony railing. In the combined glow of the moonlight and grapefruit-pink sodium iodide parking-lot lights, her engagement ring gleamed galaxy-bright, just for the two of them.

“I suppose,” she said, “it’s just as well that announcing this didn’t work out tonight. We probably have more groundwork to do before our distant friends and family are ready to accept a new reality.”

“You’re saying—?”

“That we should let Kit and Aldo have the stage for now. She wants me to be her ‘maid of honor,’ which I can’t do married.”

“You could be her matron of honor.”