Read Online Pouncing on Murder by Laurie Cass - Free Book Online Page B

investigator. You’ll love Chet. He failed K-9 school and—”
    “MrrrOOO!”
    Eddie’s howl hurt my ears, and wincing, I glanced at the clock. When Eddie started howling like that, it meant one of two things. Either he felt like howling or he was about to urp up his lunch. “Are you okay, pal? Because if you’re just being Eddie-like and not feeling sick to your stomach, I have a new bag of books for Adam I’d like to deliver.”
    Eddie didn’t say anything, and when I sneaked a quick look over, his face was mushed up against the carrier’s wire door. Half his whiskers were sticking out and he was staring at me with unblinking yellow eyes.
    Truly he was the weirdest cat in the universe. But since he didn’t look as if he was in distress, I stopped at a wide spot in the road and put on the four-way flashers. I pulled out my cell—Half strength! Hooray!—and called the Deerings’ house.
    “Hey, Adam, it’s Minnie. I have a bag of books for you, if you want them.”
    “Does a drowning man want a rope?” he asked. “Does a starving man want bacon? No, that’s a poormetaphor. A man wants bacon three times a day. Four if his wife would let him.”
    I laughed. “I’m about ten minutes away, but it’ll take me about that long to walk up the hill.”
    “Timing is everything,” Adam said. “I’ll meet you at the mailbox. I was headed out there anyway. Someone from FedEx just called, saying they were dropping off a package. I didn’t know they called ahead. Must be an Up North thing.” He laughed.
    I’d never heard of FedEx calling anyone, either, but then I always had things delivered to the library, so what did I know? Frowning, I said, “You’re not walking, are you? I know you want to recover as quickly as possible, but—”
    “Relax,” he said. “I’m taking the car. The one with the automatic transmission.”
    “You’re a smart man.”
    “Make sure you tell Irene, okay? She thinks I’m an idiot.”
    Since I knew for a fact that his wife thought he was handsome, brilliant, and the best husband in the world, I just said, “See you in a few.”
    But ten minutes later, I was still a quarter mile from his house. The fog had thickened to the point of opacity and I was driving at a rate that didn’t even register on the speedometer.
    I’d heard some explanations for the spring fogs. Some made sense, that the thawing of the winter-frozen earth chilled the adjacent air, causing a deep ground fog, and some didn’t, case in point being Rafe’s straight-facedstory that spring fogs indicated how deep the snow would be the next winter.
    “Who knew that fog could get so thick?” I muttered. “If the fog in London is thicker than this, I don’t want to have to ever walk through it.”
    Eddie didn’t comment, and I didn’t dare look away from the road to see what he was doing. Slowly and carefully I found the barnyard entrance next to Deering’s driveway without going past even once, turned in, and parked.
    I unbuckled my seat belt. “I won’t be gone long, so—”
    “Mrr!”
    “Eddie—”
    “Mrrrw!”
    “Okay, fine.” I leaned over to unlatch the carrier door. “But if I find even one hairball on one book, you’re banned from the bookmobile for a week.”
    Eddie bolted out of the carrier and, in long feline-fluid motion, jumped to the dashboard.
    “Sure, you look innocent now,” I said, “but I know that feline innocence is an oxymoron. There’s no such thing.”
    My cat ignored me and began licking his hind leg.
    “Well, back at you,” I said, barely aware that I was losing an argument with a creature who couldn’t talk. “And I’m taking the keys.”
    “Mrr.”
    I patted his head, which made him squint, picked up the bulging bag of books, and headed out into the mist. It swirled thick about my legs and I suddenly realized that my recent rereading of Stephen King was not agood preparation the present moment. Not that The Stand was horror, exactly, but I was familiar enough