When the Cat's Away

by Molly Fitz

  Of course, floor-length on Nan equated to mid-calf on me, but if anything, that just made it easier to move around in.

  “You look amazing,” Charles said, taking me in his arms when I exited the bed-room. He sang an old love song we both liked, and together we swayed between the kitchenette and the dining area.

  “Ugh, get a room!” Octo-Cat cried when Charles bent down to kiss me.

  “Get a life!” I shot back.

  “I already have one. And she’s currently right in my arms,” Charles said, flashing me a debonair smile.

  I giggled and rolled my eyes. But that was Charles for you. He made everything better, even an open murder investigation.

  “Be right back,” he said, letting go of me.

  “Where are you going?” I pouted. I loved our impromptu dances and didn’t want this one to end.

  “If you’re wearing this, then I’ve gotta change. I can’t be camping while you’re over here glamping it up,” he said, then closed the door behind him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “This is the best I could do on such short notice,” Charles said when he emerged from the bedroom, spinning to show off his form-fitting black polo shirt and smooth khaki short combo.

  “Not exactly black tie, but I suppose black shirt will do.” I giggled as he pulled me in for a hug. “Oh hey, I rummaged through our supplies a bit while you were changing and found a bottle of champagne. That gave me an idea.”

  Charles crossed to the mini fridge and grabbed the bottle by its neck, then reached into the cupboard and pulled out a box with two glass drinking flutes inside. “I was saving this for our last night out, but I guess we could have it now,” he said with a shrug.

  “No, don’t open it yet!” I cried as he began to work at the foil top.

  He paused, his shoulders tensing as he waited for me to reveal my big idea.

  “We need to take it to Sharon’s,” I said.

  Of course, he didn’t get it. “What? Why?”

  I put a hand on his waist and leaned in close. “As a means of entry. I’ll apologize for being weird earlier, thank her for the tuna, and present the champagne.”

  He smiled now, coming around. “Yeah, and then what?”

  “Well, we’ll have Octo-Cat with us, too, and I’ll ask her if her offer from earlier still stands. The one that involved coffee and gossip. She won’t be able to resist. Once we’re inside, you distract her while Octo-Cat and I talk to Chessy.”

  His brows pinched. “Chessy?”

  “Her cat. If she really comes here as often as she says, then I bet Chessy has picked up on some gossip as well. He can also tell us if he noticed anything funny with Sharon earlier today.”

  “Like putting poison in a pie?” he suggested with a mischievous smile.

  “Exactly.” It might not be that easy, but given Sharon’s penchant for gossip, it might not be that much harder, either.

  “My girlfriend is so smart,” Charles said, giving me a quick peck. “Do you think it matters that we only have two glasses?”

  I pulled away from him. “I’ll abstain. I need my wits about me anyway.”

  “There’s one problem with your plan,” Octo-Cat said from where he lay splayed across the sofa. “I’m not going.”

  I sat down beside him and attempted to stroke his fur, but he batted my hand away. “Please? You’re kind of our ticket inside.”

  “I don’t want to go, and you can’t make me,” he pouted, his expression sour.

  But I knew how to get kitty to come out and play. “I still have that can of tuna, you know.”

  He turned his face away from me and mumbled, “If you’re trying to bribe me, it won’t work.”

  “Charles?” I said, holding my hand out.

  Catching on immediately this time, he retrieve the can from the glove box and placed it on my hand, then went to the kitchenette and retrieved a crank-style can opener. He handed that to me, too.

  As soon as the seal popped on the can, Octo-Cat’s tongue poked out of his mouth and his eyes grew wide. No cat could resist the sound—or the smell—of a freshly opened can, and that’s exactly what I was counting on now.

  “Just a small taste now, but you can go nuts once we’re back,” I said, waving the can around to entice him. “I promise we’ll be as quick as possible.”

  “I’m not sharing with the raccoon,” the tabby responded, unable to look away.

  I glanced around the camper. Usually, the promise of food would send Pringle into a tailspin as well, but he was nowhere to be seen. Had probably snuck out to do some snooping again. The scamp.

  “It’s all yours, promise.” I plucked the lid from the top of the can and grabbed a chunk of fish from inside. “In fact, here’s your down payment.”

  Octo-Cat gobbled down the flaky morsel in a single breath. “Very well,” he said after licking off his chops and tending to some light grooming ministrations.

  “Can you put this somewhere Pringle can’t get into it?” I asked Charles and went to wash my hands.

  And then we were off.

  Refusing to be carried in my arms, Octo-Cat trotted at my side.

  Charles walked on my other side, hanging onto the wine and both glasses. I was also counting on the fact that Sharon wouldn’t be able to resist him, given her flirtatious overtures earlier.

  Sure enough, all the various pieces of my plan came together. It took almost no convincing at all for Sharon to welcome us into her home on wheels.

  Inside, her best feline friend Chester lay curled up on the sofa, napping peacefully.

  Octo-Cat took one look at him and turned his nose up. “Ugh, what a house pet.”

  Since we were in mixed company, I couldn’t exactly point out that he was a house pet, too. Instead I kept quiet as Charles deftly maneuvered the conversation, seeking out a way to buy me some alone time with the cats.

  After about five minutes of fawning over her luxury camper, Charles said, “I bet this baby has a massive cargo hold.”

  Sharon was quick to take the bait. “Oh, yes. It really does! C’mon. Let me show you.”

  My boyfriend turned to me with raised eyebrows.

  I laughed and waved both him and Sharon off. “Go, go. You know that stuff isn’t very interesting to me, anyway. Nope. Octo-Cat and I will just hang out in here and get to know Chester a bit better.”

  As soon as the door shut behind them, I nudged the white cat awake. “Chester, Chester. Sorry to bother you, but we need to talk.”

  His blue eyes blinked open slowly. “I must still be dreaming,” he muttered to himself. “Otherwise I could have sworn there’s a human here talking to me. Strange.” He chuckled and then curled back up into a sleeping position.

  “You better believe this is real and not a dream,” Octo-Cat shouted, jumping up and getting right in the other cat’s face. “This is my human, Angela, and she’s special. She can talk to us.”

  Chester lifted his head slightly but appeared unimpressed.

  Seeing as I didn’t know how long Charles would be able to keep Sharon occupied outside, I cut right to the chase. “Chester, there’s been a murder, and I was wondering if you know anything about it.”

  “No, I don’t watch those channels,” he said, craning his neck to look past me and stare at the TV on the far wall, which was still tuned in to the nature channel. “Sharon says they’re a bad influence.”

  “She’s not talking about TV. This is real life,” Octo-Cat spat. Never mind that he also loved filling his days with TV and film. That is, when he wasn’t napping, eating, or demanding ridiculous things of me.

  “Who’s been murdered, then? Not Sharon.” Chester yawned and licked at his paw.

  I sighed. “Sharon is fine. She was just here a second ago, remember? Anyway, the person who was murdered is named Junetta. She’s the manager at this campground.”

  Chester watched a bird feed its young on the TV. “Which campground?” he asked absent-mindedly.

  “This one,”
Octo-Cat hissed. “Yeesh, it’s like you don’t listen at all.”

  “I am listening,” the white cat drawled. “But where are we? That’s what I don’t understand. Sharon and I travel back and forth so much, it’s hard for me to keep track of where we are at any given time.”

  “Katahdin,” I supplied.

  “No, I don’t know anyone by that name. I’m not allowed to leave the RV,” Chester explained, although clearly misunderstanding. “So the only people I meet are the ones who come inside. Like you.”

  I decided to try a different tactic. “Sharon made a pie earlier today. Did you see her put anything into it?”

  He shrugged. “The usual. Butter, eggs, flour, berries. Why are you so interested in the pie? It’s not very good. Most humans don’t even like it all that much.”

  “Did you—?” I began, but then the door swung open and Sharon’s boisterous voice filled the space.

  “If you decide to buy one of these beauties, give them my name. It just may get you a special deal.”

  “I’ll do that,” Charles promised, accepting a business card and gingerly placing it inside his wallet.

  “Everything okay in here?” Charles asked when he spotted me on the couch with the two cats.

  “Everything’s just peachy keen,” I said with a syrupy smile, even though it was the exact opposite of how I felt. We still didn’t know whether Sharon was to blame, and even if I talked to Chester all night, I doubted I’d make any progress with him.

  Well, Chester would be in for a rude awakening once his reality show began filming. Something told me the producers wouldn’t be content to film a lazy cat napping all day.

  And here I’d always thought Octo-Cat was spoiled!

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Well, that got us exactly nowhere,” I confided in Charles as we strolled back to our camper.

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me into his side. “The police are here. Sooner or later, they’ll figure this out. Why don’t we just try to enjoy a relaxing night in?”

  I chuffed at this notion. “Relaxing went out the window several hours ago. Besides, if the police are still here, then they may come back to ask us more questions.”

  “Let’s try not to worry about that until it happens,” Charles said softly. “Hey, we’re all dressed up with only one place to go. Let’s have some dinner and just enjoy each other’s company. We can still enjoy what’s left of this vacation. It’s not too late.”

  I blinked up at the darkening sky. It had already been such a long and exhausting day. “Can we finish watching the movie from last night?” I asked, thinking back to the happy little cartoon characters.

  Charles sucked air in through his teeth. “Oooh. Again? We already finished that.”

  I jabbed a finger at this chest. “You finished it. I fell asleep.”

  He laughed at my bluster. “And what makes you think you won’t fall asleep again?” he asked, but as soon as we returned to the trailer, he started up the show for me.

  And, yes, Charles was correct.

  I fell asleep fairly early in.

  He woke me up to eat a dinner that he’d prepared while I dozed. We watched some more.

  And then I fell asleep again.

  Charles must have carried me to bed, because that’s where I was when I woke up with a chittering raccoon on my chest.

  “Pringle,” I whispered in irritation. “Go away!”

  “Hey, lady. I solved the murder,” he ground out, wiggling his fingers in a silly jazz hands maneuver. “Come with me. I’ll tell you everything, then you can go back to sleep. Cross my heart.”

  I glanced over to Charles who was still sleeping peacefully tucked in tight beneath the comforter. Gosh, I loved him so much. He didn’t deserve the level of crazy I regularly brought to our lives. Yet what would I do without him? He was my rock in a world of sand.

  “Make it quick,” I grumbled, grabbing my robe and tying it tight around me, then shoving my bare feet into sneakers before following the raccoon out of the camper.

  Other than a few scattered interior lights and the stars above, the campground lay obscured in complete darkness. Luckily, I always had my phone on me—a force of habit—so I clicked into the flashlight app and used it to illuminate my steps.

  “Where are you taking me?” I called after Pringle as he scampered ahead.

  “Almost there,” he called back, moving faster and faster. We walked for a long time.

  But despite my questions, Pringle didn’t explain, and he didn’t stop. Not until we reached a large clearing in the woods where half a dozen wooden tables had been set out for picnickers.

  “It’s okay. You can come out now!” Pringle called into the night.

  I shone my light toward the tree line just in time to see the massive grizzly crawl out to join us in the clearing.

  Oh my!

  I’d been so caught up in Junetta’s murder that I’d completely forgotten about poor Gloria and her plea for help. I was just about to tell her that—and to apologize for not being able to help—when a bullet whizzed past me and lodged itself in a thick tree trunk a few feet behind and to the side of Gloria.

  I spun and saw a man, probably about sixty years of age, holding a smoking hunting rifle. “Get back!” he cried. “There’s a wild grizzly on the loose!”

  “It’s okay. I’m okay!” I said, raising my arms to show him I meant no harm. “And she’s not on the loose. This is her home.”

  Oh, how I prayed that both Gloria and Pringle had the good sense to remain hidden while I dealt with this gun-toting lunatic.

  “Why do you have a gun? This is a protected nature park,” I reminded him rather pedantically.

  “For safety and maybe for revenge,” he growled back. “Who are you?”

  Uh-oh. I did not like the sound of this one bit.

  Still, I tried my best to keep my voice calm. “I’m Angie. My boyfriend and I are staying at the campground. We only just got here today. Who are you?”

  “Carl. I came as soon as I heard about Junetta’s passing. I loved her, you know? And whoever killed her is going to pay big time.”

  Carl must be the ex-husband Sharon had mentioned, the crazy one who still came around from time to time to try to win her back.

  “Well, Carl.” I paused and licked my lips. Suddenly they felt so very dry. “I want justice for Junetta, too,” I continued. “I’m the one who discovered her body.”

  I expected him to yell and snarl at me, to demand answers I didn’t have to give, but instead the old man let out a strangled cry and sank to the ground.

  The gun clattered at his feet but didn’t go off.

  I swooped in and grabbed it, then stood by idly as Carl cried his heart out. I had a million and one questions in that moment. Like why Pringle had brought me here and what Gloria had to do with it. But I had no doubts as to whether the weeping man in front of me was innocent. The man was simply too torn up about his ex’s passing to be the culprit.

  As Carl’s sobs grew more and more muted, I heard Pringle and Gloria’s voices rise into the night.

  “He brought the exploding lightning,” Gloria whispered in anguish. “He tried to aim it at me. If I die, my cubs won’t make it on their own. Please, Pringle, you have to help us. It’s getting so dangerous here, but where else can we go?”

  “Relax, lady,” the raccoon said with his signature lack of empathy. “My human sidekick and I nearly have this figured out. You and the tikes will be fine. Raccoon’s honor.”

  I glanced over to Carl, trying to determine if he’d heard the animals calling out. But he was so lost in his own sorrow that he didn’t even notice me look his way.

  And so I took a chance, keeping the rifle gripped tightly in my hands, and crept deeper into the woods. I’d switched off my phone’s light, which meant I had to rely on my other senses to guide me.

  “Pringle? Gloria?” I whispered as I treaded over dry leaves and loose twigs.

  “Over here,” the raccoon
called from somewhere nearby.

  “I can’t see anything,” I whispered back. “Can you come to me?”

  “I’m here,” Pringle said from much closer now. “But the bear went back to be with her babies.”

  “What’s going on? You said you figured out the murder?”

  He let out a huff. “Well, I thought I had, but something tells me I got it all wrong.”

  “What was your theory?” I begged.

  “So when we first met Gloria, she mentioned how her mate had tried to kill their cubs and that she was on the lam. Then I figured any guy who would kill his own kids could easily off a human,” he said. I couldn’t see him, but I imagined him making big sweeping gestures to emphasize his assumed brilliance.

  Unfortunately, I had to burst his bubble. “But that makes no sense,” I said in exasperation.

  “Of course it makes sense.” Hurt echoed in his voice. I loved that he was trying to help, but one of us could have been shot back there. This was serious business, and I needed him to take it as such.

  “The murder weapon was a poison pie,” I reminded him with a sigh. “Do you know any bears who can bake?”

  “Hey, I could bake if I wanted to.”

  “Well, you never have, and also you’re not a bear. Is that why you brought me out here?”

  “I wanted to tell you and Gloria at the same time. That way I could get my second salmon and make partner in the P.I. firm in one nice combo move.” He sounded completely chastised now, which meant it would be the wrong time to point out that he wouldn’t be joining Octo-Cat’s and my business any time in the near future.

  “So you told Gloria to meet us here?” I prompted.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I did. I just had to go and get you first.”

  Now that the shock of meeting Carl had worn off, something important clicked together in my mind. “I overheard the two of you talking about exploding lightning. Gloria wasn’t talking about fireworks like I thought before. She was talking about guns. There are illegal hunters in the area. If Junetta figured that out, she could have put a stop to it. Someone didn’t want that to happen, though.”