You've Got To Be Kitten: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Cozy Mystery

by Corrine Winters

  Twenty-Four

  John’s fishing boat skimmed along the Sound at a good clip, the sun just peeking above the rim of the horizon and splashing them with golden warmth.

  “I’m sorry,” Ruby said, projecting her voice enough to be heard over the engines. “I didn’t bother to check for other ships. I just went after the first one I detected.”

  “No, it’s fine. I would have done the same thing.” John glanced over his shoulder, all the attention he could spare. The Sound proved a bit on the choppy side that morning, and he needed to watch the water ahead of them carefully. “The lobster boat was roughly equivalent in size. It was a reasonable assumption.”

  “I still feel bad.”

  “Don’t. We still have plenty of evidence to arrest Malone for the smuggling, thanks to the photos you snapped with your cell phone, not to mention the eyewitness testimony of a Police Chief.”

  “I thought you were out of your jurisdiction?”

  “We just happened upon the drug deal as it was happening. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.” John laughed as Fiddler’s Cove appeared as a dark blur on the horizon. “Ah, we’re almost home.”

  Ruby wondered if it truly were home. Part of her missed New York, yet she’d found something lacking there. Could Fiddler’s Cove somehow provide something New York couldn’t?

  Or maybe… she looked over at John’s handsome face Maybe it’s not where I am but who I’m with?

  John docked the boat at the marina, and then gave her a ride back to the lighthouse to feed and attend to her cats.

  When he returned an hour later, dressed in his uniform and looking far too fresh for a man with a head wound and no sleep, Ruby headed out to the car pushing her stroller.

  “You’re bringing the cats again?”

  “Hey, watch your mouth,” Rumpus said. “You kept Ruby out all night. We’re going to have to set some ground rules about how long you're allowed to keep her out and about. My girl needs to be home at a certain time.”

  “Your girl is a grown woman, Rumpus, and stop being a jerk to John.”

  “He was a jerk first.” Rumpus settled back on his haunches, tail twitching slightly.

  “All he said was, ‘you’re bringing the cats again’.”

  “It was the way he said it.”

  “Just calm down.”

  “I am calm. I’m just saying, it was his tone and inflection that—”

  “Calm down!”

  “I am calm,” Rumpus licked his paw and appeared nonchalant.

  “No, you’re not, you’re making trouble!” Ruby put her hands on her hips.

  “I’m calmer than you,” Rumpus said.

  Ruby fumed, but she gave up and offloaded her cats into the back seat.

  “When we get where we’re going, they’ll have to ride up front with us.”

  “Why? Where are we going?”

  John grinned. “To get a little bit of payback—oh, and to get a dangerous criminal off the streets. That part is what I meant to say first.”

  “John Miller, you are just full of surprises. I never would have guessed you were vengeful.”

  “Oh, Mehr culture is full of vengeance. It’s one of the tenets of our—of their society.”

  Ruby cocked an eyebrow. “You know, for someone who grew up on land you seem to know a lot about your people.”

  “Not really.” John sighed. “I went through a phase in high school where I wanted to do everything the Mehr way. The way I dressed, what I ate…drove my mom nuts. I guess I’m probably talking about it a lot with you because, well…”

  John slowed to a stop at a traffic light and then turned his blue-green gaze her way. “It feels good to be able to talk about this part of myself, you know?”

  “I think I do,” Ruby replied. “It can get hard, hiding a part of yourself all the time.”

  “Yeah.”

  They headed up Harker Hill, into the ritzy suburbs where the rich and powerful of Fiddler’s Cove dwelt. Troy Malone’s house sat at the end of a dead-end street, hogging a cul de sac all to itself. With good reason, too. It stood three stories tall and sprawled over its lot, with what looked like an entire wing recently added.

  “Apparently, crime pays plenty,” Ruby muttered.

  “Yes, but the retirement plan stinks.” John chuckled. “And you never know when somebody like me is going to walk in and beat on your door. Speaking of which…”

  He strode up to the entrance and pounded his fist on the door. “Police!”

  “You’re enjoying this entirely too much,” Ruby said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just here to serve an arrest warrant.” John knocked again and the door swung inward. He glanced over at Ruby with a worried frown. “Stay behind me, and watch your corners.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “The corners of the rooms. It’s the place most likely to hold an ambusher.”

  “I could just flood the house and make everything pump out the back door.”

  John gave her an incredulous look before drawing his pistol and venturing inside. “Police! Troy Malone, come out into the open with your hands up!”

  The inside of the house didn’t look nearly as nice as the outside. Obviously no one had cleaned up in quite some time. The trash-strewn carpet bore many stains, probably from animal refuse. A foul, moldy odor stung Ruby’s nostrils, nearly making her gag.

  “Troy Malone!” John ventured on around the corner. Ruby followed as they came upon the kitchen.

  Malone stood in his boxer shorts, singing along to Losing My Religion with the volume on his headphones so loud they could hear it all the way across the room. For someone who’d nearly been caught smuggling half a million dollars of contraband—and plotting the murder of a police officer—he seemed entirely too chipper and spry.

  John must have been thinking the same thing. “Time to ruin his day.”

  He crept up and shoved the gun in Troy’s face.

  “Read my lips. Down. Now!”

  John motioned with the pistol. Malone hastened to get on his belly, staring up in fear at John.

  “You’re coming downtown, Malone! I’ve got you this time—”

  “What?” Malone shouted.

  John cursed, then reached down with his free hand and snagged the headphones off of Malone’s head. They flew across the kitchen to smash against the wall.

  “Hey! Those cost five grand a pop, pig!”

  “You’ve got a lot more to worry about than your fancy gadget, Malone.” John knelt on his back and yanked Malone’s hands behind his back. “You’re under arrest.”

  “What’s the charge?”

  “Take your pick. Drug smuggling, contraband smuggling, violating international law, conspiracy to commit murder—”

  “Where’s your evidence?” Malone asked mockingly. He managed to be defiant even laying on his belly glaring up at John.

  “I’ve got all I need, don’t you fret.”

  “Oh? You better let me go right now, and walk out that door if you know what’s good for you.”

  “Why is that?” John chuckled. “You going to threaten to kill me?”

  “Oh, I can do worse than that…fish boy.”

  John flinched. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play dumb. Either you drop the charges, and forget all about me, or I’ll blab to the government, the press, anybody who will listen.”

  John appeared at a loss, he sputtered something and took a threatening step toward Malone.

  “Hang on,” Ruby said. “Calm down. I’ve got this.”

  “Oh, you’ve got this, Rubes? What are you going to do, force me to get engaged and crush my dreams like you did with Roger?” He noticed the way his barb stung and laughed cruelly. “Oh yeah, Rog talked about you, like, all the time. He said you were a good lay, but not worth putting a ring on.”

  “Watch your mouth, you son of a—”

  “John, relax.” Ruby smiled down at
Malone, who had dragged himself into a sitting position against the cabinets. “So, you know what John is…does that mean you know what I am?”

  “A pain in my rump?”

  Ruby chuckled softly, then her smile faded. “I see. That explains a lot. You see, if you knew what I was, you would already be begging me for mercy. Do you know what a Curse is, Troy?”

  Troy’s face fell. “Hey, now, come on. I’m sorry for mouthing off, I didn’t know you were a, um…”

  “You can say it, Troy. It’s not a dirty word. I’m a witch.” The lights seemed to dim, shrouding Ruby in shadow until only her eyes glowed crimson in the midst of a sinister silhouette. “Now, the thing about a curse is, the more evil you’ve done in your life, the harder they are to break or resist. It’s a karma thing. So, when I curse you, it will take a more powerful magic user than is currently alive to break it.”

  “Officer! Are you just going to stand there and let her curse me?”

  John shrugged. “I don’t remember any laws forbidding the casting of curses on the books.”

  Ruby chanted arcane words, even harsher, uglier than those she usually spoke. She brushed her hand across Troy’s mouth as she finished the chant. Magic surged from her hand into his body, down his throat, and into his guts.

  “What was that?” He gasped.

  “Now, what were you going to tell people about Chief Miller?”

  Troy sneered. “I’m going to tell everyone he’s a---”

  Malone doubled over, vomiting out seawater all over his kitchen floor. He gasped, groaned, and looked up fearfully at Ruby.

  “What was that?” Ruby tilted her ear toward his mouth. “Can you repeat that?”

  “Screw you!”

  John smiled. “Looks like you don’t have any cards left to play, Malone.”

  “Fine,” Malone snapped. “Maybe you can make this smuggling crap stick, and maybe you can’t. But you’ll never get me for Roger’s murder. Never.”

  “Let me guess, you’re as innocent as the freshly driven snow.”

  “If I were you,” Malone said as John dragged him to his feet. “I would take a real hard look at Busta Kapp. He had a serious grudge against Roger.”

  “You don’t get to give me advice,” John growled. “Let’s go.”

  Ruby followed in their wake, her lips twisted into a frown. For some reason, she thought Malone might be telling the truth about Roger. If Troy didn’t kill him, then who did?

  Twenty-Five

  Ruby sat on a park bench while Rumpus and Rufus frolicked about in a patch of grass outside the police station. Rufus leaped in the air, chasing a dexterous butterfly as it flitted through the sunlight. Rumpus laid on his side in the grass, idly pawing at a leaf.

  “Come on, Rumpus, the whole point of this is so you can get some exercise.”

  “I am exercising.”

  “Rumpus, you need to get up and walk. I thought you’d get more exercise when we moved back to Fiddler Cove, but, I swear, you lay around more than ever.”

  “Are you saying we’ve moved? As in officially not going back to New York?” Rumpus ceased his delighted leaps and came to a halt in front of Ruby. His yellow eyes looked up at her expectantly.

  “Rufus, you know I…” Her voice trailed off. What did she want, exactly? The more time she spent in the Cove, the less she felt the pull to return to New York. That ironically pushed her more in the direction of returning to the Big Apple. She didn’t want to change.

  I had a good thing going in New York…didn’t I? A party almost every night, dancing until dawn, moving on a whim…

  And absolutely, positively, no one was waiting for her at home other than her cats.

  “‘I know you’, what?”

  Ruby reached down and swept Rufus up into her arms, snuggling him close. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “It would be kind of nice to stay. Wouldn’t it? I like it here.”

  “I do, too, Rufus, but…” Ruby sighed. “There are a lot of ghosts.”

  “Like the Cotton Mather guy?”

  Ruby smiled and scratched under his jaw. “Yes, like the Cotton Mather guy.”

  “Heads up,” Rumpus narrowed his gaze as he turned his head toward the police station. “Chief Miller is heading our way.”

  Ruby stood up at John’s approach, stifling a yawn. “Well?”

  “Well, Malone has been indicted on multiple counts, but one of them is sadly not threatening an officer. Or assault on an officer. I couldn’t exactly tell the District Attorney’s office everything.”

  “But he’s in jail?”

  “Yeah, he’s in jail alright. He’ll have a bail hearing in a few days but I’m hoping they’ll deny him as a flight risk.”

  Ruby cocked an eyebrow. “What about Trevor Whitley, the not-so-notorious Busta Kapp?”

  John shook his head. “I’ve issued an APB for his arrest. So far, it hasn’t turned anything up. I’m afraid he might have explicitly violated the conditions of his bail and escaped from this jurisdiction.”

  “At least that means he won’t be coming after Ruby,” Rumpus said.

  “Maybe.” John sighed. “I’m going to join the search. There’s a crack house on the outskirts of town which is rumored to be one of his haunts. I suggest you head for home and be extra careful.”

  “I will be, but the last time Busta Kapp messed with me, he got…all washed up.”

  Ruby grinned. John let out a polite laugh, but it came a fraction of an instant too late. Rumpus groaned.

  “Leave the wisecracking to your familiars, will you? Geez.”

  John smiled down at Rumpus. “He said it, I didn’t. You need a ride home?”

  “No, it’s a nice day, I don’t mind walking back to the lighthouse. Go and catch the bad guy.”

  John favored her with a grin. “I’ll do my best. Oh, and Ruby?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thanks for saving me out on the Sound.”

  “Don’t mention it, Chief John,” Ruby winked. “It was my pleasure.”

  She watched him get in his cruiser and leave, feeling a tightness in her chest. Ruby cautiously tucked her burgeoning feelings for John into the back recesses of her mind, because she had other fish to fry.

  Ruby began to regret her decision to walk home about three blocks from the police station. Her knees and ankles ached, and the lack of sleep had taken a toll. By the time she reached the lighthouse, she was cranky, exhausted, and grumbling.

  Ruby checked the time and found she had several hours before Blair was due to arrive for another attempt to deal with Cotton Mather. She took a hot bath and then stretched out for a nap. If she had dreams, Ruby did not remember them.

  She awakened half an hour before her alarm was due to go off with a Rumpus on her chest demanding food. Ruby stumbled into the kitchen, yawning hugely as she set the cat’s evening repast on the counter.

  Ruby dressed in her black, flute-sleeved gown and layered her neck with three talismans. One would protect against physical harm, the other magical, and the third was meant to make it that much harder for spirits to invade her psyche.

  Normally, Ruby wouldn’t bother with minor talismans, but Cotton Mather had her worried. Whoever his patron was, they had a hatred for witches, too. Just like their little minion.

  Ruby received a text shortly after her alarm sounded. Blair would be along soon. Ruby set a kettle of water to boil for tea and put pre-made cookies in the oven. She’d been ambitious enough the night before to think she was going to make them from scratch, but then John had taken her on a nautical adventure, hadn’t he?

  Still, the lighthouse filled with the smell of warm, baking snickerdoodles. Ruby had no sooner let Blair and Felix in the door when they both inhaled deeply. Blair got a dreamy look on her face.

  “Is that snickerdoodle I smell? That’s my favorite cookie.”

  “Mine too,” Felix said, craning his neck around. “Where’s the chow?”

  “Don’t be rude, Felix,” Blair said.
<
br />   “Oh, believe me, I’ve been inundated with feline wit for so many years, I’ve built up a resistance.” Ruby’s smile faded. “Besides, I used store-bought dough.”

  “That’s fine. So did my mother.” Blair grinned. “I know home made is probably better, but I miss the taste of home.”

  Ruby grinned, feeling warmth toward Blair for the first time ever. “I know what you mean. Why do all the things that make you feel cozy have to be bad for you? Coffee, Chocolate, store bought cookies—”

  “I know, right?” Blair chuckled. They seated themselves at the kitchen table and sipped tea, chatting until the cookies came out.

  Rumpus and Felix stared longingly at the cookies as they cooled on the rack. Ruby and Blair drew their plans against Cotton Mather.

  “It seems like whatever demonic forces have conspired to assist Mather in his weird crusade, they really, really don’t want him to be banished or exorcised.” Ruby blew the steam off her cup before taking a careful sip. “I’m wondering if even the two of us working in concert are powerful enough to overcome it.”

  Blair took a sip of tea, then set her cup down on the saucer with a delicate clink. “Then what do you propose we do about it?”

  “Destroy him,” Ruby said, clenching her hand into a fist.

  “Can you even destroy an apparition? I thought their energy could only be dispersed temporarily.”

  “That’s true. But there’s a loophole.” Ruby stood up excitedly and took a heavy tome down from her bookshelf. “An apparition is impossible to destroy…but if you bring the person back to life, and then use a Final Death Knell enchantment within one hour of their death—”

  “Wait.” Blair held her hand up, eyes swimming with incredulity. “You’re suggesting we bring Cotton Mather back to life…so we can kill him again?”

  “And make sure he stays dead this time,” Ruby said eagerly.

  “I—this is nuts!” Blair threw her hands up. “I mean, what’s wrong with trying the banishment or exorcism again?”

  “Like I said, someone or something has taken steps to make sure that won’t work. They’ll never see this coming!”