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The Cat Sitter's Nine Lives

Page 25

by Clement, Blaize, Clement, John


  I whispered, a little louder now, “Yeah, it was Mr. Silverthorn.”

  No one stirred.

  “He found a naked drawing of Mrs. Silverthorn, and guess who the artist was?”

  Michael snorted softly.

  “That’s right, you guessed it. Mr. Hoskins. Silverthorn decided they’d had an affair, so he made some poisoned chocolates and told his footman he had to plant them or he’d turn him in for robbing banks.”

  I took a bite of pie and glanced over at Paco. “Yep, his footman was Mr. Vladim, and Silverthorn planned on framing him for the murder, so he dressed up like an old lady and followed Vladim to the bookstore to make sure he did as he was told.”

  Suddenly there was a quiet “thrrreeep!” and Ella Fitzgerald hopped up and gazed longingly into my eyes, purring like an electric razor.

  “You heard me, an old lady! But Vladim didn’t do what he was told. Instead he crashed into a truck—that’s where I came in—so Silverthorn went to the bookstore and knocked Mr. Hoskins out and dressed up in his clothes and sold me that book and then dragged Mr. Hoskins into a crawl space and shot him and then snuck out the back door.”

  I covered Ella’s ears for that last part and then looked around. “Am I going too fast?”

  Ethan said, “Unhh.”

  “Oh, and Mrs. Silverthorn’s maid is Vladim’s wife. She’s the other bank robber they’re looking for. Except I’m the only one that knows that. And I’m going over there in the morning to convince her to turn herself in. Either that or tell her to run away. I’m not sure I want to see her go to prison, but I know that would make me an accomplice to a felon. And I’ve been walking around all week with deadly chocolates in my bag.”

  Ella yawned.

  “Oh, and I almost forgot, Mr. Silverthorn shot me in the alley tonight.”

  I took one last bite of pie and then raised my fork in the air with a flourish. “But he missed!”

  I looked around. Nobody said a word. Ella stretched herself into her best scary-cat pose and then curled up in the nook of Ethan’s arm. The rest of them just lay there, snoring quietly.

  And that was it. Nobody launched into a lecture about how I’m always getting myself in trouble and how I should be more careful, how I should’ve known better than to snoop around that bookstore late at night, how I should let the sheriff’s department do their job and mind my own business and blah blah blah …

  I figured I could always fill them in on the details later … maybe. For now I just wanted to enjoy the moment, the gentle hush of the waves rolling in, the palm trees and pines swaying gently in the breeze, the night-blooming cereus twining overhead and filling the air with its sweet scent, and all my favorite men and furry beasts and Michael’s world-class key lime pie.

  There was one last piece sitting on the pie plate all by its lonesome in the middle of the table. I stretched my arm out as far as I could, but it was too far away, and with Ethan’s head on my lap and Ella curled between us I knew if I got up I’d wake them all and spoil the moment. So instead I just sat there.

  My gardening book was at the opposite end of the table, opened halfway and lying facedown at Michael’s spot. There was a scratch pad next to it where he had scribbled a couple of notes. Hopefully, with Silverthorn’s fingerprints on Mr. Hoskins’s buttons, McKenzie wouldn’t need the book as evidence. That way Michael could keep it.

  As for the chapter on poisonous plants, I figured maybe I’d keep that for myself—it had definitely turned out to be a pretty good reference tool for solving a mystery—and you never know when something like that might come in handy.

  ALSO BY BLAIZE AND JOHN CLEMENT

  The Cat Sitter’s Cradle

  ALSO BY BLAIZE CLEMENT

  The Cat Sitter’s Pajamas

  Cat Sitter Among the Pigeons

  Raining Cat Sitters and Dogs

  Cat Sitter on a Hot Tin Roof

  Even Cat Sitters Get the Blues

  Duplicity Dogged the Dachshund

  Curiosity Killed the Cat Sitter

  About the Authors

  John Clement is the son of Blaize Clement (1932–2011), who originated the Dixie Hemingway mystery series and collaborated with her son on the plots and characters for forthcoming novels. Blaize is the author of Curiosity Killed the Cat Sitter, Duplicity Dogged the Dachshund, Even Cat Sitters Get the Blues, Cat Sitter on a Hot Tin Roof, Raining Cat Sitters and Dogs, Cat Sitter Among the Pigeons, and The Cat Sitter’s Pajamas. Visit their Web site at www.DixieHemingway.com.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  A THOMAS DUNNE BOOK FOR MINOTAUR BOOKS.

  An imprint of St. Martin’s Publishing Group.

  THE CAT SITTER’S NINE LIVES. Copyright © 2014 by Blaize and John Clement. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.thomasdunnebooks.com

  www.minotaurbooks.com

  Cover designed by David Baldeosingh Rotstein

  eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  ISBN 978-1-250-00933-3 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-1-4668-4851-1 (e-book)

  e-ISBN 9781466848511

  First Edition: July 2014

 

 

 


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