The Trouble with Cupid
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The Trouble with Cupid
10 Trouble Cat Short Mysteries Spiced with Romance
Jaden Terrell
Carolyn Haines
Laura Benedict
Lisa Wysocky
Maggie Toussaint
Greg Herren
Claire Matturro
Nancy Sartor
Fran Driscoll Roberts
Michelle Broussard Honick
Eve Osborne
Edited by Jaden Terrell
Edited by Michelle Ladner
Edited by Claire Matturro
Copyright © 2018 by Jaden Terrell
All rights reserved. Published by KaliOka Press.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover design by Cissy Hartley
Formatted by Priya Bhakta
Dedicated to all the animals still hoping for their forever homes
Contents
Step Into My Parlor
Tidbit from Trouble #1
Calling All Cupids
About the Author
Tidbit From Trouble #2
Of Mice and Munchkins
About the Author
Tidbit from Trouble #3
The Madonna in the Garden
About the Author
Tidbit From Trouble #4
Trouble at the Hip Joint
About the Author
Tidbit From Trouble #5
Engine Trouble
About the Author
Tidbit From Trouble #6
Trouble with Horses
About the Author
Tidbit From Trouble #7
Double Trouble
About the Author
Tidbit From Trouble #8
The Rescue
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
About the Author
Tidbit From Trouble #9
A Troubled Romance
About the Author
Tidbit From Trouble #10
Passin’ Time
About the Author
Acknowledgments
About the Editor
Associate Editors
Step Into My Parlor
Ah, Valentine’s Day. Cupids, flowers, romance…A day when human hearts and minds turn to love.
Bipeds have a way of complicating the simplest, most natural things, but I have to admit, at least to myself, that the annual celebration “d’amour” can be quite intoxicating. Not as interesting as solving crimes, of course, but then, very few things are.
Allow me to introduce myself. Trouble’s the name, detecting’s my game. I take after my father, Familiar, the famous black cat detective, though if may say so myself, I’ve brought a certain refinement to the profession that he, with his Sam Spade attitude, lacked.
He was quite the ladies’ man, my father, and despite that little “operation” Tammy Lynn, my human, insisted on a few years ago, I’ve inherited his weakness for a well-shaped whisker and a delicate paw. In fact, females of the feline persuasion seem to find me irresistible.
But enough about that. I was talking about Valentine’s Day. I used to think a day of love would be a day without need of my special investigative skills. Alas, love and crime are not mutually exclusive. Some of my most interesting adventures have taken place on or around Valentine’s Day. Naturally, you’ll want to hear about them.
But first, a word of caution. If you’ve ever had the pleasure to be owned by a cat, you may have noticed your feline companion staring intently at something your poor human eyes can’t see. You chuckle to yourself and tell your friends we’re seeing ghosts, or looking deep into the spirit world. In truth, we are seeing possibilities. Multiple worlds, if you will. Realities that are, and those that might be. They aren’t always visible, but many of your human holidays are among those times when they are easiest to see.
So, do these tales recount events that are, or those that might have been, or those that might yet be? I would tell you if I could, but that, my friend, is for you to decide.
Tidbit from Trouble #1
There is nothing so pure as the love of a cat. The soft nuzzles, the magnificent purr, and, of course, the enormous self-sacrifice involved in caring for our human servants in such a way as to allow them the illusion of independence. Ah, the utter perfection of feline amour. Unfortunately, the human heart is not always so noble, and when it isn’t, sometimes a little feline intervention is required.
Calling All Cupids
By Carolyn Haines
It’s an ace of an evening for February—a perfect clear February 14 night with no humidity, and love is in the air at Tammy Lynn’s Wetumpka, Alabama abode. If I had a sweet kitty to cuddle up against, it would be time for a bit of Bridget Jones’s Diary. Don’t tell a soul, but I just love romantic comedies. Tonight, I need something to divert my attention. My humanoid is so busy making goo-goo eyes at Elmore County Deputy Aiden Waters that she can’t concentrate on cooking my meal.
I swear, that Aiden is about to bite off his arm in his rush to kiss Tammy. She is a sumptuous feast for the eyes, I agree. But decorum, man. Don’t cave so easily to the need to worship at her feet. Ah, Cupid’s arrow has gone straight into Aiden’s heart. It’s true, Tammy has never looked happier, and I shall content myself with that. After my travels, it’s just nice to be home in Wetumpka.
Hark! What is that yowling noise I hear outside the window? Is it a passionate feline wench on yonder lawn? I do believe it is. As I assess the little tri-colored missy walking across the grass, I am intrigued. Why is she at my house, and why is she in such distress? Her calico coat sparkles with good health and care. What could be wrong?
Since Aiden and Tammy are otherwise engaged in groping each other, I’ll hustle outside and see if I can be of assistance. Just call me Sir Galahad Trouble!
I’ve learned to easily work the front door latch, and as I step into the night, the pretty kitty rushes toward me. She is truly upset. All I have to do is listen.
Her owner has disappeared. She assures me that Lana Treme is not the kind of pet owner who vanishes into thin air. Especially not with a Valentine’s dinner in the oven for her special man. This does sound dire, and a perfect case for Trouble, the black cat detective. I’ll follow her home since she is only two blocks over. If I have to, I’ll rouse Aiden to help search for this wayward Lana person, but perhaps I can resolve this peccadillo on my own—and win the affection of this lovely little calico. I share a weakness for the tri-colored kitties with my dad, Familiar. After years of traveling the world to solve mysteries, Dad has finally settled in D.C. with Clotilde, the kitty of his heart. Also a calico.
But my head can also be turned by a lovely black, or Russian blue, or snow white, or tabby, or delicious marmalade, or…there are simply too many gorgeous felines to list. Know that I am a cat of many tastes. But now I must follow Trinity, my lovely black, white, and orange lady, back to her home to see what’s what.
I’m not always happy to travel at night, because my sleek black fur is too fine a disguise at times—drivers don’t always see my golden green eyes. As Trinity and I move across the grass, down the sidewalk, and across the street, I am lea
rning that she and Lana are new to Wetumpka. They moved here and before long, Lana announced her engagement to Sam Cooke, a humanoid that Trinity approves of. The wedding is planned for March 1, which is only a couple of weeks away. Once the nuptials are said, Sam will move in with Lana, but she is a proper Southern belle and wants to wait until the marriage is official. As a feline, I don’t understand the many rules and mores that humans impose on a natural urge to make love, but who am I to judge? As the American expression goes, whatever floats their boats.
The house Lana has chosen is lovely, a sweet cottage set on a wooded lawn. The lights are on, and as we approach the open kitchen window, I can smell something cooking that makes my mouth water. It’s simple enough to slip inside, following Trinity’s lead.
A tour of the house reveals that it is completely empty. Empty but not without clues. Written on the dresser mirror in the bedroom in red lipstick is a message that curdles my heart. “You are mine. Forever.” Trinity has failed to understand what it means, and I’m not going to enlighten her. I want to search for clues before she has a come-apart. Like my hero, Sherlock, I must now put all emotions aside and fully engage my brain.
First things first, I’m going to show Trinity how to turn off the oven. If the house burns down it will only make matters much worse. Now that is done, I must ascertain if this is an abduction or if Lana has merely gone to the store or the police station, which is where I’d be, reporting that lipstick message. But let’s start in the den and work back up to the bedroom.
Judging from the photo on the piano, Lana is a long, lanky blonde with hazel eyes and a big smile. Trinity tells me the man in the photo is Sam, a good-looking fellow. The bad news here is that Lana’s car is in the garage. My search of the bedroom reveals her purse under the bed with the contents scattered. I believe we are looking at an abduction.
Trinity tells me she was visiting a feline friend four houses down, and when she returned home for din-din, Lana was missing. So far, we have no witnesses to the abduction. But there is a car coming down the drive right now. I’m going out the window and getting a close-up of our visitor.
It’s not Lana, but this new foxy bird looks a lot like our missing person. And she has a key to the front door, which signifies that she’s a friend. She’s inside and calling for Lana. And the tension is building in her voice. Trinity tells me this is Tatty, or Tatiana Treme, Lana’s sister. She lives in Nashville but is here for a visit.
Uh-oh, Miss Long Legs is getting upset. This scene is quickly devolving.
* * *
“Lana, where the heck are you?” Tatty called for her sister as she searched the house. She opened the oven door and checked the pot roast, and the smell made her mouth water. She hadn’t taken time for lunch, and she’d driven from Nashville to the small Alabama river town as soon as she’d gotten off work. The plan—one of Lana’s masterminds—was to introduce Tatty to Gabe McLeod, a bachelor Lana had determined was “perfect” for Tatty. Along with her advertising talents, Lana was convinced she was the perfect matchmaker for her younger sister. Once Lana got an idea in her head, there was no stopping it, even though Tatty had reservations about being fixed up with a man she’d never met. But it was easier to give in than it was to fight. It was only one evening.
The roast was done and thank goodness the oven had been turned off. She left the oven door cracked and stooped to pick up Trinity and stroked the cat’s back. “Why are you so upset? Where’s Lana?” Surely her sister would return any minute.
At last she noticed the unfamiliar black cat that stood in the doorway. “And who are you? Lana didn’t tell me she’d acquired another cat. But you are a handsome devil.” She bent over to pet Trouble. “Now where’s my sister?”
She charged up the stairs and into Lana’s bedroom and stopped. The words written in red lipstick were the first thing she saw. “You are mine. Forever.” She stepped back, avoiding the black cat by only inches.
Before she could do anything else, her cell phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and answered. “Lana! Are you—”
The male voice that spoke was angry. “I have Lana. Don’t call the police or I’ll kill her. You know she’s mine. She was always mine. We can be happy together, if you don’t interfere.”
For a moment Tatty couldn’t speak. Her breath seemed frozen in her lungs. At last she blurted out, “Brent! Let me talk to Lana. Now!”
“Go back to Nashville and leave us alone. If you care about your sister’s life, you’ll do what I say.” The line went dead.
Tatty leaned against the wall, holding the phone to her ear and staring at the vivid red words on the mirror. It was the nightmare she’d dreaded. Brent Harlow had returned like the bad penny he was. Lana had moved away from Nashville because of Brent, a man she’d met at work and had merely treated with common courtesy.
Brent had taken Lana’s small gestures of kindness as something much more, and he’d built a fantasy world around them where he and Lana were a couple. His unhinged behavior had gotten so out of hand that Lana had left behind her old life, her friends, her family—everything—to escape the persistent harassment of Brent Harlow, a man who believed he and Lana were meant to be together. Now Brent had found Lana in Wetumpka and he’d taken her.
The black cat rubbed against her shins and brought her out of the paralysis of dread. She had to take action, but what should she do?
The doorbell sounded, and she panicked briefly. The black cat grabbed at her jeans leg with gentle claws and moved her toward the stairs. The cat wanted her to open the door. Which was pretty darn smart, because it might be a clue where Brent had taken Lana.
She ran down the stairs and threw the front door open. The tall, broad-shouldered man who stood there holding a bottle of wine and a bouquet of lilies wasn’t Lana’s fiancé, Sam Cook, so he had to be her “date.” She’d forgotten all about the blind fix-up.
“You must be Tatty, and I’m Gabe McLeod,” he said. “Am I too early?”
She bit her lip and struggled for a reply. “Uh, something has come up.” She looked behind her, trying to figure out her next move. “Do you know where Sam might be?” She had a really bad feeling. If Brent had taken Lana, what had he done with Sam?
“He should have been here,” Gabe said. “Do you mind if I come in?”
Tatty realized she’d been blocking the door and stepped aside. “I’m afraid our plans may have changed,” she managed. “Uh, I don’t know where Sam is.”
“Lana should know. Those two can hardly breathe without being together.” Gabe put the wine on the kitchen counter and held the flowers out to her.
Playing for time, Tatty got a vase for the flowers out from under the sink. She tried to act normal until she gathered her wits. “Thank you for the flowers.” In a moment she had them sitting beside the toaster.
“Where is Lana?” Gabe turned to look at her and stopped. “What’s wrong?”
Tatty didn’t know Gabe McLeod from Adam’s house cat, but she had to tell someone what had happened. She needed advice about what to do. She was torn about calling the police, and she needed to check on Sam. She was a stranger in Wetumpka, and she could only hope that Gabe could help her.
She blinked back tears and bit down harder on her lip. Now wasn’t the time to react emotionally. “We need to check on Sam. He may be in danger.”
Gabe came to her and put his hands on her shoulders, giving her a bit of steadiness. “What’s happened? I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”
Tatty stared into his dark brown eyes. He was the lifeline she needed to keep from falling apart. For Lana’s sake, she had to hold it together. “Brent Harlow, this man my sister worked with back in Nashville, has abducted her.” She led him up to the bedroom and showed him the lipstick words on the mirror.
“Is this man dangerous or merely delusional?” Gabe asked.
Tatty needed an answer to that question—and fast. Lana’s fate hung in the balance. “He is delusional. He built this fantasy abou
t Lana. He managed to hack into her emails at work—he has some talent with technology. His obsession with Lana consumed him to the point that Lana moved here to get away from him. We thought it was over. It’s been months since Lana heard anything from Brent. Now he’s tracked her down and taken her. I’m worried that he may harm her. Maybe Sam, too.”
“Was there anything that might have stirred Brent up?”
Tatty put a hand on her forehead. “The wedding announcement. It ran in the Nashville Tennessean Sunday. How could I have been so stupid? I thought—Lana and I both thought—Brent had moved on with his life. I mean once he realized Lana didn’t want him, I—” She stifled the sob.
“Hey, now.” Gabe rubbed her back. “Look, we’ll find her. We will. But you’re right. Let’s check on Sam. He should have been here and I’m worried. If he’s okay, he can help us hunt for Lana. She couldn’t be far. I can smell the roast in the oven.”
“Should I call the police?”
“Me-ow!” The black cat rose on his back paws and put his front paws on her knees. He shook his head.