Let Sleeping Cats Lie: The 9 Lives Cozy Mystery Series, Book Four
Page 26
“Yeah, Aunt Ellen!”
“Tamara?” Roy said.
Tamara glanced at Quinn. Their gazes locked and Christy saw him incline his head just a fraction. “I’m no stranger to sleeping on the ground,” Tamara said. “I’m not sure … I may not be a good campmate. I … Sometimes I have flashbacks.”
“We’ll look after you,” Quinn said. There was warmth in his voice, but Christy couldn’t tell if it was affection or friendship that caused it.
Whichever it was, there was relief in Tamara’s smile. “All right. I’ll come.”
“Good!” Roy said. “We’re all accounted for—”
What about me? I’ve never been camping.
There was immediate silence. Everyone at the table, apart from Quinn and Tamara, looked at each other, consternation in their expressions. Quinn raised his brows. The sudden silence would have alerted him that Frank had made a comment. Tamara simply looked bewildered.
Stormy crouched down on Roy’s map and meowed plaintively.
The excitement in Noelle’s expression clouded over. “We can’t go, Mom. We can’t leave Stormy alone for two weeks.”
Christy looked at her daughter. The light of adventure was gone from her eyes, replaced by an oddly mature acceptance of sacrifice. She drew a deep breath. “Stormy can come with us.”
I can? I’m in?
“Really, Mom?” When Christy nodded, Noelle high-fived Roy, who was next to her.
Stormy stood, arched his back, then rubbed against Christy’s hand. She patted him absent-mindedly as she watched the joy return to her daughter’s expression. “Really. We’ll have to take Stormy’s harness and leash, though.”
What? The leash? No!
“Yes,” said Ellen. “The leash is a necessity.”
“We’re taking a cat camping?” Tamara asked. Then she began to laugh. So did Sledge. Trevor smiled indulgently and Quinn shook his head.
Roy looked around at all of them. He beamed. “Then it’s settled. We’re going camping!”
The End
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Cat Among Fishes
The 9 Lives Cozy Mystery Series, Book Five
“Offshore fish farms are lethal to other marine life.” The environmentalist pitched his voice to a conversational level, but his eyes flashed with outrage.
“Progressive Salmon Farms Worldwide has pioneered eco-friendly open water salmon pens. Our site here in Loyal Scotsman’s Bay is perfect for our new technologies and takes into account all of the environmental concerns that surround older fish farms.”
Stormy the Cat wiggled his shoulders free of Christy’s tote bag. I don’t care if it’s raining. This reminds me of the time Gerry Fisher insisted I go to the official opening of the new Jamieson Ice Cream factory when I was sixteen. Stupid speeches and a ribbon cutting. Boring! I’m out of here.
“Prove it!” the environmentalist said.
The PSF representative reddened. “If you read our literature—”
“Your literature is spin doctored and full of falsehoods!”
The small audience, bored by the sales pitch, perked up at the possibility of a battle, but Stormy wasn’t interested. Nor was Noelle. As the cat stepped daintily out of the tote Christy had lowered, Noelle tugged on her sleeve. “I want to go too, Mom.”
Christy nodded. “Okay. Keep an eye on Noelle, Frank.” She was whispering, though she didn’t have to. Voices were raised as the arguments heated up.
Sure. Tail high, Stormy trotted away. Noelle skipped along beside him. Together they slipped through the door, still open wide, welcoming everyone to the information meeting. Their destination was a Plexiglas tank the size of a swimming pool. Visible through a big plate glass window, it was a mock up of the projected fish farm and designed to show PSF’s environmentally friendly features. Noelle and the cat paused before it, apparently fascinated by the juvenile salmon swimming lazily in their small ecosystem.
Christy turned away from the window and glanced around the room. She saw that Ellen was standing close to Trevor. Were they holding hands? She couldn’t quite see from her position, but she hoped it might be. Tamara was between Sledge and Quinn. Her expression was one of interest, while Sledge appeared to have drifted off into another dimension. Quinn was watching the door.
Christy’s heart leapt. Was he worried about Noelle being out on her own?
The rain that had driven them inside had stopped now and the clouds were slowly drifting away. Mellow late afternoon sun glinted off Plexiglas tank. Christy was contemplating ways of leaving this charged and very political meeting without causing too much of a stir when there was a splash and the sound of a body hitting water. She heard Noelle scream, “Daddy!”
Christy whirled about. In the Plexiglas tank the juvenile salmon were now swimming in an agitated way, while Noelle was charging up the stairs to the wooden walkway that encircled the tank, a mock up of the floating docks that would be the visible evidence of the real thing. Before Christy could even begin to move, Noelle arrived at the walkway, tore across it, and leapt into the water. Inside the tank the salmon swam about even more frantically than before.
Christy headed for the door at a run, but Quinn got there first. Sledge followed him out and as Christy burst from the doorway, she saw that Quinn was at the stairs. He took them two at a time, reached the top and was across the walkway in one stride. He dove into the tank and swam for Noelle.
Sledge followed closely behind Quinn and with a whoop, he too jumped into the tank.
There was a gasp from the crowd. Now at the base of the staircase, Christy heard the PSF rep shriek, “My fish!”
She glanced back at the demonstration building. The PSF rep was leading the charge out and he looked ready to kill.
He shook his fist as he shouted, “Stop this immediately. You’re traumatizing my fish!” His face was red as he rushed toward the tank. Christy ignored him and ran up the stairs.
As she reached the walkway Quinn surfaced with Noelle in his arms. He swam over to Christy and together they maneuvered Noelle out of the water. She wiggled, trying to get back in. “Mommy, Stormy is still underwater. He’ll drown! We have to help him!”
At that moment Sledge surfaced. He held the cat high, one hand under his shoulders, the other at his back end. Stormy’s fur was plastered to his body, his eyes were wide and a little manic, and in his mouth was one of the juvenile salmon. It flopped up and down, frantically seeking escape, but Stormy’s jaws held it fast.
Noelle leapt to her feet, then hopped ecstatically up and down, clapping her hands. “Stormy! You’re safe. And you caught a fish. Good for you!”
Quinn made a snorting sound that could have been a disguised laugh and hauled himself out of the water. Sledge shifted the cat so he could paddle over to the walkway. He deposited Stormy beside Noelle, then pulled himself out and sat beside Quinn.
As soon as the cat was on the walkway, Noelle dove for him. She snatched him up into a tight hug. The salmon gave one last desperate flop and Stormy lost his grip. The fish flew over the side of the tank, onto the ground.
Twisting out of Noelle’s grasp, Stormy raced to across the walkway, then leapt off the edge to the ground below. He landed almost on top of the fish, mere inches away from the feet of the outraged PSF rep. Snatching up the tail of the fish, he bolted, the salmon bouncing along behind him. He headed for the makeshift parking lot where he took refuge under Christy’s van.
“If looks could kill,” Quinn murmured in Christy’s ear.
She glanced at the PSF rep. He was s
taring at the van, fury in every tense muscle in his body. From his expression, it was clear he had murder on his mind.
CAT AMONG FISHES
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Cat Among Fishes
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Also by Louise Clark
The Nine Lives Cozy Mystery Series
The Cat Came Back
The Cat’s Paw
Cat Got Your Tongue
Let Sleeping Cats Lie
Cat Among Fishes
* * *
Forward in Time Series
Make Time For Love
Claim Time For Love
Discover Time for Love
A Turbulent Time for Love
About the Author
The author of the 9 Lives Cozy Mystery Series, Louise Clark has been the adopted mom of a number of cats with big personalities. The feline who inspired Stormy, the cat in the 9 Lives books, dominated her household for twenty loving years. During that time he created a family pecking order that left Louise on top and her youngest child on the bottom (just below the guinea pig), regularly tried to eat all his sister’s food (he was a very large cat), and learned the joys of travel through a cross continent road trip.
The 9 Lives Cozy Mystery Series—The Cat Came Back, The Cat’s Paw, and Cat Got Your Tongue —as well as the single title mystery, A Recipe For Trouble, are all set in her home town of Vancouver, British Columbia. For more information please sign up for her newsletter at http://eepurl.com/b0mHNb. Or visit her at www.louiseclarkauthor.com or on Facebook at LouiseClarkAuthor.