one bad egg on the council tried to ruin Harperâs career, set Harper up to be prosecuted for murder. Tried to get him off the force big timeâget him sent to prison on a life sentence.â
Clyde slid the platters of meat and cheese into the refrigerator, with the bowls of salad, and busied himself arranging crackers.
âWho found young Dillon Thurwell when she was kidnappedâwhen all the evidence pointed to Harper? Who helped her escape?â
âHarper would likely have found her.â
âRight. After she was dead. That woman was going to kill her.â
âAll right,â Clyde said. âI have to admit you and Dulcie saved Harperâs skin on that one, and maybe saved Dillonâs life. But you two have come to believe that Harper canât solve a crime without you, and I call that really insulting. You two cats thinkââ
âI never said he canât solve a crime without us. I said weâve helped him, that weâve offered some positive inputâthe way any good snitch would do. Why canât you enter into a simple discussion of the facts without getting emotional? Without getting your back up, to use a corny and inappropriate colloquialism!â
Clyde sat down at the table and put his face in his hands, shoving aside the rack of poker chips and twonew decks of cards. He didnât say, What did I do to be saddled with this insufferable, ego-driven animal? But it was there, in his silence, in the slump of his shoulders.
âAnd,â Joe said, âwhen you do marry, youâll be in the same position as Charlie is with Harper. You marry anyone but Kate or Charlie, marry a woman who doesnât know what kind of cat you live with, you try to hide the truth from her, thereâs going to be trouble. It would never work. Iâd have to move out, find another homeâor youâd end up telling her about me! Sharing my fate with a total stranger. Compromising and endangering my life, and Dulcieâs. Putting usââ
Clyde swung around in his chair, his face decidedly red. âIf you donât get out of this house now, and stay out until weâre done playing poker and everyone has gone home, I swear I will not only evict you and nail your cat door shut, I will take you to the pound. Shove you in a cat carrier and leave you at the animal shelter. See you locked in a metal cage foreverâbecause no one would want you. No one would adopt such a bad-tempered tomcat.â
Joe Grey smiled, leaped to the center of the table, and lifted a gentle white paw to Clyde. âYou are becoming very creative. If you even tried such a thing, I would spill it all to Max Harper. I would break out of the poundâno trick for yours truly. Iâd go straight to Harper. Sit down face-to-face with him and tell him my entire story. I would lay it all on him, every corroborating fragment of proof, every tip, every detail of past phone calls. Proof that IâI alone, not Dulcieâam his phantom snitch.â
He thought Clyde would laugh, but Clydeâs browneyes blazed with anger. âIf you ever did such a thing, I swear, Joe, Iâd kill you.â
Clyde shoved his face close to Joeâs. âDo you remember the night at Morenoâs Bar, after Janet Jeannot was murdered, when Harper tried to tell me his suspicions about certain cats being involved in the case? About certain mysterious phone calls? And you were eavesdropping under the table? Do you remember how shaken Max was?â
âCome on, Clydeâ¦â
Clyde glared. âYou so much as whisper to Max Harper, and youâre a dead cat. Finished. Comprende?â
âYou are so grouchy. You really need to get your life in hand.â Joe dropped down to the linoleum, stalked through to the living room, pushed out his cat door, and crept under the front porch. Heâd never seen Clyde so irritable.
He really did have to blame Clydeâs mood on pretty,
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