A Thrift Shop Murder

by N. M. Howell

  “Surely there has got to be more somewhere,” Finn said, running across the shop to the back where the cabinet was. A few loud crushes and bangs sounded from the back room, but he came out looking defeated. “Nothing. What the hell? Agatha drank like a fish, you would think she’d have far more than just two bottles of booze around here.”

  Brow furrowed, Tom grunted. “I bet she’s hiding them. Seems like something she would do.”

  I rolled my eyes and awkwardly pushed myself to a standing position, using a display case for support. “Oh, I know,” I gasped, my hands in the air and my fingers pointing around rapidly like little dancing guns. “Let’s go dancing. I love to dance. Can we go dancing? Pretty please?”

  I gave the three guys my best doe-eyed expression. I even batted my eyelashes like a proper princess.

  “I don’t see why not,” Tom shrugged. He pointed his finger at me. “But I’m there for the drinking, not the dancing, got it? Under no circumstances will you find me on that dance floor.”

  I grinned, swaying slightly. “Sure thing, my fluffy-wuffy friend.”

  Finn lifted one shoulder and glanced at Pussy. “It would be nice to get out of the house for once, right?”

  Pussy met his eye for a moment before a slow smile spread over his handsome face. “Why the hell not? I haven’t been in a bar in years. I think?” Pussy scratched his head and looked between the two other guys. “Years? Does that sound right? That sounds… odd. Honestly I have no idea. I’m too bloody drunk.”

  “Yeah!” I squealed. “Dancing. All right, awesome. Where should we go? Anywhere good around here?”

  “We’ve been cats, Price,” Tom said. “What would we know? Check online, there’s sure to be a place close by.”

  A quick search on my phone through drunk, squinted eyes told me that there was an Irish pub just down the road. “Perfect, I love the Irish. Let’s go.”

  Not bothering to change out of their ridiculous clothes, we all grabbed colorful jackets from the front display rack and sprang out of the thrift shop like four people on a mission.

  The air was cool and felt good against my flushed skin. I was far drunker than I cared to admit. If Gerard had ever caught me this inebriated, he would have given me the cold shoulder for a week. I blew a raspberry in the air at the memory of my douchebag ex and announced, “I’m having a double vodka the minute we get there.” I waved my hands, teetering on the edge of the kerb. “No, no. I’m having a Sex on the Beach cocktail. With a whiskey chaser.”

  Pussy sidled up to me and caught me by the arm. He winked at Tom and Pussy. “Sex on the Thrift Shop floor with a chaser of three cats in your bed sounds like a better option.”

  I snickered, too far gone to chastise him. “Hey, I’ve had worse offers,” I slurred.

  Tom let out chuckle and linked my other arm. “Easy, cowgirl. Let’s nobody say anything they’ll regret in the morning.” He kept his eyes trained on the street in front of us, but his fingertips gently caressed the inside of my wrist.

  I yelled at Finn to link onto Pussy. “Come on, Muffin, we’re the Monkees. Remember that old show? Let’s do the walk. We’re so damn funny. Cats are a hoot.” Tom and Finn exchanged a look over my head and laughter filled the street. Arm in arm, the four of us flew on down the sidewalk, practically skipping on our way to the pub. “I hope they have a live band,” I mused. “I love dancing to live music.”

  Tom grumbled, “I don’t care what’s there, so long as they have whiskey. Lots of whiskey.”

  The pub was only a few blocks down the road, and we were there before I had a chance to even get cold. To my excitement, there is a live band in the back playing an assortment of chart toppers and pub hits. I dragged the guys to the dance floor, bouncing between all the sweaty people in the pub, but Tom slithered out of my grip and headed toward the bar, shooting me a slow smile over his shoulder. I watched him go, butterflies dancing in my stomach. It was the whiskey—had to be the damn whiskey.

  Strong hands caught me by the waist and spun me around. I twirled out of Pussy’s arm and Finn grabbed hold of me, lifting me off the ground as if I was a tiny ballerina instead of a lanky athlete. The sensation of freedom swelled inside me and burst out of my mouth in a song as I howled along with the band, twirling and wiggling to the music. The three of us let loose and danced like idiots to the loud music. If there was a better feeling in the world, I hadn’t felt it yet.

  We danced for what seemed like hours, and all my worries melted away. The music slowed and the two men closed around me. Finn hooked his arm over my shoulder and Pussy’s hand slid around my waist. Eyes closed and arms raised, we swayed to the ballad, completely lost in the sounds of the lead singer’s accented vocals. He really did sound Irish as he crooned about his lost lover on the other side of the ocean. When the song ended, the feeling of warmth and security surrounding me melted away, and I opened my eyes with a start.

  “Finn?” I screwed my eyes up, scanning the thick crowd. “Pussy?” A cute guy with a goatee gave me an appreciative once over and reached for my body. I slapped his hand away. “Ew, no. That wasn’t an offer, I’m just looking for my friend Pussy.” The man made a face. I raised my arm over my head. “He’s about this tall, and he’s got this great blond hair, like somebody in a magazine.” I leaned forward as if I was sharing a secret, the liquor in my veins causing me to stumble slightly. “And he’s hot. So are his friends. Like, super-duper hot. Abs as hard as like steel, perfect butts, and big, huge—” I stopped short, my pulse suddenly racing as I caught sight of three full outfits of clothing scattered around the ground. “Oh shit.”

  The stranger I’d been talking to reached for my hand and started to murmur about how I could check out how he measured up to my friends, but I pushed him away with a grimace. I shook my head as I turned away from him. Firstly, my friends had vanished; I had no time for a booty break. Secondly, I was pretty certain he wouldn’t measure up all that well to any of my three guys. “My harem.” I giggled to myself as I made my way unsteadily through the piles of clothing. “My reverse harem.”

  I stared down at the discarded clothes and nudged them with my toes, reality suddenly piercing my drunken daze. Oh freak. Cats. The guys had turned into cats. In the middle of a pub. “Okay, this is why we can’t leave the damn house,” I muttered to myself as I frantically looked around the floor of the pub. People were jumping and dancing and acting like just as big of idiots as we had been moments before. The poor three cats didn’t stand a chance under the feet of the dancing stampede.

  Running to the far corner where it seemed quietest, I came upon the three of them huddled together. “Well, shit,” Tom snarled. “This is why we shouldn’t make stupid ass decisions when we drink.”

  I shushed Tom loudly, standing in front of them to block their view as people started to notice the three cats in the pub. The few people around us stopped dancing and stared down at them, confused. I waved them away and said they’d escaped my house and I was coming to collect them. I reached for them, but Muffin hissed at me, claws outstretched.

  “What the hell?” I demanded.

  “Don’t touch us, we’ll turn back to human and we’ll be naked in the middle of the damn pub,” Pussy hissed. I glanced around and fortunately most of the people had turned their attention back to their own partying. I must’ve looked like a lunatic talking to three cats in the corner of a pub. But then again, I’d seen stranger things in bars.

  “Okay then, what the heck do you suggest we do?” I asked

  “Meet us outside,” Tom said. “Lead the way and we’ll follow behind. We need to get back to the house.”

  I groaned and nodded, pushing my arms out to nudge the crowd aside as I made my way out to the front of the pub. People grunted and moaned angrily at me as I shoved them to one side, but I sprang forward at a fast pace, glancing down constantly to make sure the three cats were close behind.

  I barely made it to the front door, when someone caught my eye. I froze, my blood runnin
g cold. Standing at the far wall, leaning against the side bar, was Officer Bert Fitzgerald. His face was pulled tight in an expression of annoyance and his lips curved down in a deep, disapproving frown. His eyes caught mine, and we stared at each other for a long moment. For a split second, I had the drunken urge to run up and smack him in that chubby little face of his for the stress he had caused me. But then I stopped and considered the ramifications that would cause me. I turned on my heels and bolted straight to the front door, hoping he wouldn’t follow me.

  When we finally made it out of the pub, to the ever confused expressions of the patrons and bartender at the front bar, we ran a few blocks down the road and turned down an alley, stopping only when I was sure we were out of sight from anyone standing outside the pub. When I peeked around the corner and saw that Officer Bert hadn’t followed, I leaned against the rough brick wall of a commercial building, allowing my head to fall back against the rough cold surface as my heartbeat returned to its usual rhythm.

  “What the hell? We didn’t need to run that far,” Pussy’s voice panted up to me. “Your legs are much longer than ours, remember.”

  “Officer Bert,” I huffed, my breath coming in gasps.

  Tom’s voice was filled with concern. “What?”

  “Officer Bert. Inside the pub. He was there, he saw me.” Panic filled me again, and I began hyperventilating.

  “Okay, it’s fine,” Finn said. “I mean, it’s a shame he saw you drunk, and weird that he saw you with three cats, but he didn’t follow us. We are good, don’t worry. It’s not as if he can arrest you for being a drunken mess.” Finn paused. “Well not in a pub while he’s off duty, anyways. Let’s just get home and put you to bed, how does that sound?”

  I nodded my agreement, and we slowly made our way home, staggering intoxicated, laughing and nearly crying the whole way, using the back alleys and finally entering the house through the back door. I was drunk and exhausted and overwhelmed, and I could feel myself shivering. I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold, the liquor, the adrenaline, or the seed of fear seeing Officer Fitzgerald had sown in my gut.

  “Well, well. Somebody looks like they had a fun time,” Agatha’s voice drawled from the hallway as we entered.

  I loosed a breath and walked her past her. I was too damn tired to bicker. “It’s been a long day, Agatha. I’m going to bed.”

  “Your hair looks pretty,” she said to me.

  I paused and turned back to her, my expression shocked. Did she just pay me a compliment? Where did that come from? I stared at her for a long moment, frowning. “You look nice, too.” I awkwardly blurted out, unsure really how to respond. Not that her appearance changed at all, anyways, considering she seemed to be stuck in one form as a ghost.

  She smiled at me and waved me away, and I pretty much crawled up the stairs into the bedroom and fell back semi-unconscious into the bed, not bothering to even get out of my clothes. The three cats joined me and sat on the side of the bed, looking up at me. I turned my head on the pillow, gazing down at them. “You want me to turn you all back?” My voice was ragged, exhaustion filling me as my eyes slowly closed.

  “No, I think you need some extra special cat comfort tonight,” Finn said.

  “You mind if we curl up at your feet?” Tom asked, his voice soft.

  My lips tugged up in a smile, as I snuggled into the comforter, pulling it tight above me and patting the top of it for the three cats to jump up. “Stay on top of the comforters, okay? No surprise male nakedness.”

  I felt the three of them jump up on the bed and snuggle in around me. Just as I sunk into a deep, dreamless drunken sleep with the three strange house cats cuddled at my feet, I remembered something. My lips were almost too heavy to move them. “I never even got my Sex on the Beach.”

  Whatever reply Pussy gave was too muffled by the comforter to reach my ears, but the other two cats convulsed into fits of laughter, their warm bodies vibrating against my side like massage balls and lulling me into a deep, peaceful sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I yawned and stretched, my body aching. Early morning light flooded through the window onto my bed and warmed my skin. My hangover was tremendous and my head pounded in a fascinatingly painful rhythm against my pillow. I rolled over, but found myself stuck. My comforters were pinned down. Inching onto my side, I slowly opened my eyes and nearly let out a scream.

  Snuggled beside me were three rather large, rather unnervingly sexy naked men. “Out,” I demanded, nudging them with my feet. “This wasn’t our agreement. Out, all of you.”

  “What?” Finn yawned as he stretched. He looked around and had the grace to blush when he caught sight of the tangle of naked bodies sprawled over my legs. “Shit, sorry. I must have touched off you in my sleep. Totally accidental, I swear.”

  Pussy opened his eyes lazily and stretched his long, toned body with a grin. “Speak for yourself, Muffin.” I lifted my knee in an attempt to knock him off the bed, but he merely rolled onto his stomach so that his bare buttocks were facing the ceiling and his morning glory was pressed into the comforter beside my leg. I shot him a dirty look and wriggled away, fighting the temptation to land a smack on his naked butt. It would be satisfying to hear my palm slap down on those firm globes, but I was pretty certain I’d get more than I bargained for if I started that nonsense. Pussy’s eyes were on my face and his lips curved as if he could read my mind. He ran a hand through his messy blond hair. “Don’t be so grouchy, Pricetag. Unless you’re still upset about not getting that Sex on the—”

  Tom shouldered Pussy clear off the bed with a single jerk of his tattooed body, and Pussy stared up at us from the floor with an indignant scowl and an impressive full-frontal display. I threw my hands up to cover my eyes. “Guys! You’re killing me. I’ll keep my eyes closed, just cover yourselves up and go, please.” I opened my fingers a crack as the floorboards creaked, closing them again tightly when Tom glanced in my direction. A low rumble of laughter filled my ears. Damn it, caught red handed. Before Tom could tell the others about my peeping tendencies, the sound of loud knocking echoed through the house.

  “What the?” I squeezed my eyes shut as my temples throbbed. “Is that in my head or is somebody really banging on our door?” The sound came again, and all three men looked around confused. Okay, so it wasn’t just me.

  “Who the hell is that?” Tom scowled in the direction the noise was coming from.

  “Are you guys expecting someone?” I asked, sitting up and tugging on the comforter to cover my bare chest. When had I taken my damn clothes off? I looked around the room and saw my clothes strewn across the floor. I must’ve gotten hot and peeled them off while I was in a drunken coma. I groaned and felt my blush deepen, wondering if the guys had witnessed the event.

  “Of course we’re not expecting anyone,” Pussy sneered. “We’re cats, remember?”

  I slithered off the bed, trying my best to conceal my dignity. “You are people now, not cats, okay?” Tom and Finn had covered themselves with towels from my press, but Pussy was still butt naked, holding one of my shirts over his crotch. I stared at him pointedly. “Now, go put some proper clothes on and let me get dressed in privacy, please.”

  The three men left the room, Pussy’s bare ass a sight to behold in the morning sun.

  Knock knock knock.

  “Can someone get the door?” I yelled as I tugged my clothes onto my uncoordinated body. I stumbled around, still feeling the effects of the alcohol from the night before. I heard a few thumps and loud swearing coming from downstairs. I stared toward the hallway. “Guys? What the hell is going on?”

  Thunder sounded on the stairs as all three men ran back to the bedroom, only half dressed. “Price, something happened.”

  I grabbed hold of the door handle. “What are you talking about?”

  Finn took a step forward with his hands outstretched like I was a wild animal that might bolt. “Don’t panic, okay?” I glared at him, silent. “It’s probably a b
ig misunderstanding, but it looks like media is here.” He paused. “On our doorstep.”

  “What?” It was too early for games. “Who the hell is Media?”

  “Not Media,” Tom growled. “The media. Someone called the media. The press. Newspapers, television. There’s about forty journalists standing outside with cameras and microphones.”

  I hated alcohol; I was going to vomit. “Why are they here? Is this about Agatha?” Another thought hit my brain and I felt the blood drain from my face. “Oh my God, they saw you turn into cats. They’re going to try and take you away. Oh my God.”

  Finn wrapped his arms around me as my shaky legs began to buckle and pulled me onto his lap on the bed. “Take it easy, we’re not going anywhere, Price. I swear.” He brushed a tangled lock of dark hair off my cheek, his green eyes dark. “They’re not here for us.”

  “No,” Pussy agreed. His arms were crossed as he leaned back casually against the wall; only the tightness of his jaw and the straight line of his mouth gave away his worry. “From what I could hear through the door, they’re here to investigate the girl who’s suspected of murdering Agatha Bentley.”

  “What? That’s insane. It’s not fair,” I insisted. “What would have brought them here? I’m not even an official suspect? I haven’t even been brought to the station for questioning yet.”

  “Someone must’ve said something or leaked a rumor to one of the agencies.” Tom’s voice was like sandpaper and his hands were curled into fists. “This is a damn dirty investigation, when I figure out who’s trying to set you up…”

  I slid off Finn’s lap and brushed Tom’s shoulder with my fingers. “Take it easy, Fluffy. We don’t need you up for murder charges too, all right?” Tom’s body relaxed under my touch and I gave him a half-smile. “Who’d be our resident grumpy bastard if you got locked up?” His teeth were strikingly white against his olive skin as he flashed me a grin. I bit my lip, turning back to the others. “Okay, no more time for dicking around, we need to figure out who the fudge is trying to cover their dirt by flinging it at me.”