A Thrift Shop Murder (Cats, Ghosts and Avocado Toast #1)

Poof

All three men suddenly returned to cat form. I shrieked and jumped back, falling sideways over the arm of the chair and sprawling awkwardly as I tried to right myself. “Holy crap, why did you do that?”

The three cats sat down, looking at each other and then turning their attention back to me. “I didn’t do it,” Finn said.

“God damn it.” Tom’s voice was a low rumble. “We mustn’t have control over it.” He turned his crystal glare on me. “You were the one who broke the spell this morning. Do it again. Get the spell book. Or ask Aggy.”

The cat’s voice was rough and hard, but the look of desperation in his stare softened my irritation at being ordered around by a scarred black cat. I raised my voice. “Agatha? Aggy! We need you,” I called. “And your spellbook thingy.”

“That felt weird,” Finn said as we waited for the ghost to appear. He scratched his ginger fur. “I don’t think I like turning back into a cat without fair warning.”

I could hear Pussy purring from the far side of the room. Pussy, great. The one name I didn’t catch. He lifted his head from his crotch and met my eye. “I liked it. It was kind of exciting, if you catch my drift.”

“You’re disgusting,” I snapped. “I actually think there’s something wrong with you.” A wide grin spread across my face as inspiration hit me.

“Oh no, she looks way too pleased with herself,” Finn’s voice said from the floor.

“She looks like she’s up to something,” Pussy agreed.

Tom frowned and did a fairly impressive impersonation of Grumpy Cat. “Spit it out, Price.”

I sat back down on the chair and leaned back with a smile on my face, finally feeling better than I had all day. “I know how we’re going to approach Frankie without seeming suspicious.”





Chapter Twelve





“I can’t thank you enough for taking us and at such short notice, Tracy,” I gushed as I hauled the massive cat crate onto the counter.

Dragging three enormous cats in a box two blocks down the road was no easy feat, even for someone as fit as I was. Fortunately, Agatha had one of those wheeled moving crates in her basement and I used that to drag the massive animals to the vet to their extremely vocal and annoying displeasure.

“Don’t even mention it,” Tracy replied with a massive smile on her face. She looked genuinely happy to see me, and her joy was infectious. “Is there anything in particular that you’d like me to take a look at? Or is this more of just an overall check-up to make sure they’re in good health?”

“Well, the truth is, I know absolutely nothing about cats. I’ve always really been more of a dog person,” I admitted. I glanced at the cats out of the corner of my eye. “Three male cats? It’s my idea of a nightmare, to be honest. They’re so loud and obnoxious.”

Tracy laughed with me, nodding her head in agreement as the black cat curled his lip up and hissed through the gaps in the crate. “I’m definitely a dog person, too, but I have to admit, these three really are a sight to behold. Look at the size of them. They’re three big, big boys.” I avoided Pussy’s stare as he stretched his back and purred in agreement. Tracy bent down and peered into the crate at the three cats squished together and inside. “Why don’t we bring them in the back so we can let them out of this tiny space? They can stretch their legs a little bit and I can get a better look at them.”

“Sounds great, but maybe we can get some help moving this darned crate. I nearly threw my back out bringing them here; I wouldn’t want you to get hurt because of these guys.” I leaned to the side to peer around the corner of the room, through the door behind the front desk. Frankie wasn’t at reception, but I hoped maybe he was somewhere in the back. “Do you have anyone else working with you today?” I made my voice sound as innocent as possible, though I was already sweating buckets and felt slightly sick to my stomach. The whole concept of being on an undercover investigation made me feel exceptionally nervous, despite the fact that I was really only there to ask a few questions.

Tracy positively beamed at me. “Great idea, Frankie can take care this. Frankie?” She called his name and a man I recognized from the service in the park sauntered into the room. He was tall and slim and was wearing clothing that looked worth nearly as much as the house I now lived in. When Tracy motioned for him to pick up the crate, he looked none too impressed.

“Hi, you must be Frankie,” I said as I reached my hand toward him. He took it reluctantly and shook it, offering me a quick flash of teeth. “I’ve heard so much about you.” I immediately regretted saying that. All three cats responded in warning, and I coughed loudly so that hopefully no one else caught their mewls of protest. I added quickly, “I mean, I’ve heard you used to work at the vintage shop where I live. I love the display you had in the window, it’s beautiful. Guess it must’ve been an interesting place to work, huh?” I felt a flush creep up on my cheeks as I tugged at the handle of the crate, flustered.

Frankie tipped his head to one side. “That’s for sure. So many stories I could tell you from working in that place for as long as I did, not that you’d believe half of them,” he said, a dimple flashing in his right cheek. “Here, let me help you with that.” He picked up the massive crate and awkwardly hauled it through to the back room.

I followed, but Tracy hung back slightly and nudged me with her elbow. “How are you settling in? Is everything okay? I’m really glad that you stopped by.” Her voice was hushed as she spoke, as if she didn’t want Frankie to overhear our conversation.

I smiled up at her and shrugged. “To be perfectly honest, things are a bit strange. I’m settling in, though. The place is starting to grow on me.”

“I’m glad.” Tracy smiled. “We’ll have to maybe grab that coffee sometime if you do decide to stay.”

“For sure, that sounds nice,” I agreed. “If we both survive this check-up, that is. Who knows what kind of food Agnes has been feeding them or what kind of care they’ve been under. I want to make sure they’re healthy and haven’t been living off moth balls or anything. You should see the crazy stuff in that old house.”

Tracy laughed as we entered the room with a red-cheeked Frankie struggling to lift the crate onto the high veterinary exam table. Tracy and I ran forward and helped him lift it, and when the door was securely closed, I undid the latch and let the three cats crawl out and stretch. By the looks they gave me, I knew they were none too thrilled to be crammed into such a small crate together. I was quite impressed by my brilliant idea, if I was honest with myself, but they didn’t seem too keen on it. Whatever. It got us in here, and that’s all that mattered.

“I’ll leave Frankie in here with you to get their weights and set up their files while I go check on a little guy next door who should be coming round after this morning’s surgery.” Tracy gestured at her crotch and made a snipping gesture, and Tom snarled and scampered under a cabinet. The vet eyed him curiously as she turned. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?” She picked up a pile of papers from the far desk, winked at me, and then turned to leave us in the room alone.

N.M. Howell, L.C. Hibbett's books