The Case of the Cat Show Princess

by Cindy Vincent

  The Case

  of the

  Cat Show Princess

  The Case

  of the

  Cat Show Princess

  A Buckley and Bogey Cat Detective Caper

  Cindy Vincent

  Whodunit Press

  Denver Bozeman

  The Case of the Cat Show Princess

  A Buckley and Bogey Cat Detective Caper

  All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2011 Cindy W. Vincent

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Whodunit Press

  A Division of Mysteries by Vincent, LLC

  For information, please contact:

  Whodunit Press

  c/o Mysteries by Vincent

  Mysteriesbyvincent.com

  1-866-WHODUNIT

  This is a work of fiction. All events, locations, institutions, themes, persons, characters and plot are completely fictional. Any resemblance to places or persons, living or deceased, are of the invention of the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-932169-26-3

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedication

  To all those kind-hearted souls who give

  shelter cats a forever home.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  Holy Mackerel! I could hardly believe it! Right at that moment, I’m sure my gold eyes were about as big and round as my food dish. My long, black fur felt like it was standing on end. I probably looked just like one of those scary cats that you see in pictures.

  But the truth was that, I, Buckley Bergdorf, cat detective, was the one who was scared!

  After all, I was still pretty new when it came to the whole cat detective business. So far I’d only been running surveillance on our house at night. Just to make sure the place was safe and secure for both my human and cat family. Besides that, I’d helped my best friend and fellow cat detective, Bogart, (or Bogey as I call him), run a few background checks on a few suspicious characters.

  Yet even with all that detective work, I’d still never actually solved a real case before!

  “Don’t sweat it, kid,” Bogey had told me. “Everybody’s got to be a rookie once in their life. You’ll get the hang of things.”

  I only hoped he was right. Because I sure didn’t like being a rookie, which is just another word for being new on the job.

  Now today we’d gotten the first email since we’d advertised our cat detective agency on the Internet. And let me tell you, it was a doozie!

  Who knew the first official case for the Buckley and Bogey Detective Agency would involve another cat in big trouble?

  I glanced over at Bogey who had his paw hovering just above the computer keyboard. Funny, we’re both black cats, but the truth is, we look nothing alike. He’s sleek and slim and his fur shines like patent leather. As for me, I’m twice his size and half his age. I’m a Maine Coon cat. In case you didn’t know it, Maine Coon cats are very, very large. And I do mean large! I’m barely two years old and I’m already bigger than some dogs!

  I scooted closer to the computer screen and read the email again. “Help!” it said. “I am a cat in great danger. I read about your agency and I desperately need your services. I will be at the St. Gertrude Cat Show on Saturday. I’ll contact you from there. It’s not safe for me to write more now. Signed, P.A.”

  Okay, that’s when I got even more nervous. Who in the world was P.A.? And exactly what kind of danger was this cat in?

  I gulped and tried to stay calm. After all, cat detectives are supposed to be really brave when it comes to danger. Plus, I noticed Bogey wasn’t getting too worked up about it all. Probably because he’s an expert in this business. Let me tell you, the guy has solved lots of cases. Lucky for me, he’s been teaching me everything he knows since I got adopted from the animal shelter six months ago.

  Yet despite all that, I still had a lot to learn. And I do mean a lot!

  I noticed a white paw waving at me from the other side of the antique desk where Bogey and I had been sitting. Lil Bits, another former shelter cat, had been relaxing in the green recliner across from us. Lil is a white cat with black spots, and to be honest, she looks more like a linebacker than a cat. Bogey once explained to me that Lil is a British Shorthair. Apparently they’re cats with wide bodies and short legs. Watch out if they ever tackle you!

  Lil was also said to have been one of the best cat detectives in the business. That was, until she mysteriously quit a few years ago.

  Tonight she’d been hanging out with us in the home office while our human family was asleep upstairs.

  “I’ve seen a lot of things in my day,” she told me. “A lot of things I wish I hadn’t seen. And believe me, those cat shows are a bad business. Did you know all those cats have to get a bath before they go on display?”

  “A bath!” Bogey and I both yelled at the same time. I shuddered at the thought. Cats absolutely hate getting a bath.

  Lil nodded to us. “Then they get dried with a blow dryer.”

  I gulped. I couldn’t imagine getting dried with a blow dryer. To tell you the truth, I’m scared of blow dryers.

  Lil shook her head slowly back and forth. “It’s a rough life for those cats. All that primping and posing and having to look perfect."

  Right then and there I hoped I would never have to be in a cat show.

  Lil stood up and stretched. “Sounds like you’ve got your paws full on this one, Detectives. If you need my help, just let me know. But now I’d better get upstairs and check on Gracie.”

  Gracie was the only daughter of our human Mom and Dad, and we loved her like she was our sister. Gracie was always so sweet and kind to us cats. Lil usually stayed with her at night, just to watch over her.

  I saluted Lil and almost poked myself in the eye with my huge paw. “Thanks, Lil. I mean, Ms. Bits. I mean, Detective Bits. I’ll let you know if we need help.”

  Bogey nodded at her. “It’s very likely we could use an extra cat on the job, Lil. Because I don’t like the looks of this case. I don’t like it one bit.”

  Lil nodded back. “You know where to find me.”

  With that, she jumped down from the recliner and headed into the dark hallway. Of course, you probably already know that cats can see really well in the dark. So we don’t care if the lights are on or off.

  Bogey reached for a bag of cat treats. He grabbed a treat for himself and then tossed one to me.

  “This is Wednesday,” he said. “The cat show isn’t until Saturday. And we aren’t going to hear from P.A. again until then. That’s a long time for this cat to be in a bad situation.”

  “I know.” I was so nervous I could barely eat the fish-flavored cat treat. “I’m really worried about this cat.”

  Bogey grabbed another treat. “Me, too, kid.”

  I sat up straight and tall. “Can’t we email the cat back? And maybe find out some more information?”

  Bogey shook his head. “No can do, kid. The cat is probably us
ing their human’s email address. That means their human would probably read any email we sent back.”

  “Would that be bad?” I asked.

  “Could be,” Bogey said. “Especially if the human is the reason they’re in danger in the first place.”

  “So what do we do?” I shuddered. “It’s going to be awfully hard to wait until Saturday to hear more.”

  Bogey shook his head. “Don’t I know it, kid. Don’t I know it. Unfortunately, sometimes that’s the breaks in this business.”

  But a few seconds later, his gold eyes lit up. “I know something we could do in the meantime! Let’s go see if the Wise One has any advice for us.”

  That’s about the time I really started to shake in my paws, so to speak. The Wise One was an old cat named Mokie. She was so old, you might even say she was ancient. And according to Bogey, at her age, she had seen it all and done it all. That’s how she got to be so wise.

  Mokie was absolutely revered around our house. She’d ruled the roost with an iron paw for as long as anyone could remember. Not only was she super smart, but she also had some very sharp claws. And she wasn’t afraid to use them if anyone got out of line.

  To tell you the truth, I always sort of avoided Mokie. I was just a little bit afraid of her. But tonight it looked like I didn’t have any choice but to go up and see her. I wanted to do anything I could to help the poor cat who had emailed us.

  Even if it meant a visit to the Wise One.

  Bogey and I both jumped down from the desk and headed upstairs to the sunroom to find Mokie. Though it was late at night and the sun was down, she still hung out there. That’s because she liked to get the warmth from the sun the second it came up in the morning.

  We found her relaxing on a purple, velvet sofa. She was a huge gray cat with long fur. I always thought she looked kind of like a lion. She raised a paw just as we stepped inside the room, letting us know we should halt.

  Then she looked from me to Bogey and back again. “Please identity yourselves.”

  Strange, but suddenly I couldn’t say a word.

  Luckily, Bogey did the talking for both of us. “Detectives Buckley and Bogey here to see you, Miss Mokie.”

  Bogey bowed to her, so I did the same thing.

  She nodded to us like a queen nodding to her subjects. “Come, please enter. Please partake of a drink.” She motioned a paw in the direction of her private water dish.

  Bogey leaned over the dish and took a big slurp. I followed his lead.

  Then we turned to face Mokie again.

  She sat up straight so she appeared to look down on us even more than before. “What is it you wish?”

  Bogey kneeled on the ground with his feet before him. “We are in search of advice, oh, Wise One.”

  She nodded to us. “I see. What advice do you seek?”

  That’s when Bogey told her all about the email from P.A. And he told her how worried we were about this cat.

  Mokie responded with a frown. “No cat should ever be in danger. Do you have any more information?”

  This time I finally spoke up. “No,” I squeaked out. “I mean, no, ma’am.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. “Then you must go to the source.”

  “Go to the source?” I repeated.

  Mokie opened her eyes again and looked at me. “That is correct, young detective. Go to the source.”

  Bogey raised his paw. “Would you kindly excuse us for a moment while I consult with my associate?”

  Mokie motioned us away. “Most certainly.”

  I followed Bogey outside the room and into the hallway for a little chat. I only hoped he wasn’t half as confused as I was.

  I crinkled my forehead. “What does she mean, ‘Go to the source?’”

  Bogey shook his head back and forth. “Go to the source. Go to the source.” He repeated the words in a very soft voice. Over and over.

  Then finally his gold eyes lit up. “I’ve got it! Go to the source!”

  I sat up and kind of leaned back. “You do? What does she mean by that?”

  My best friend grinned. “Go to the source, kid. She wants us to go to the cat show and find this cat. Instead of waiting to hear from it first.”

  “O-o-o-h-h,” I said. “So that’s it.”

  “But let’s check it out for sure,” he told me.

  He scampered back inside the room and I followed. Once we got close to Mokie, we both bowed again.

  “You may speak if you wish,” she said.

  Bogey’s face lit up. “When you say ‘Go to the source,’ do you mean we should go to the cat show and find this cat?”

  Miss Mokie nodded. “Ah, yes. That is correct. You have done well, Grasshopper. Remember that sometimes it is important to make the first move.”

  “But how will we get there?” I blurted out.

  Miss Mokie looked just above our heads. “Ah, that is something only the two of you can figure out. Simply put your heads together and I’m certain you’ll find a way.”

  Right about then I think my jaw practically hit the floor. Find a way? I had no idea how we could get to the cat show.

  I turned and stared at Bogey and he stared back at me.

  “But beware,” Mokie warned us. “A cat show is no place for the faint of heart. After all, cats there are judged on silly little things like appearance and the length of their fur. I’m afraid humans don’t understand that it truly does not matter what a creature looks like. It’s age that counts. Old age. That’s what makes a cat superior, of course. Now, if you’ll please excuse me, it’s time for my nightly grooming.”

  “Yes, oh, Wise One,” Bogey and I said at the same time. We both bowed again before we left the room.

  I could understand how getting older could make someone really smart. Because the older you get, the more you know. I only hoped I would know as much as Mokie did some day.

  But right now I mostly just wanted to know more about this cat with the initials P.A.

  I galloped behind Bogey as we raced down the hallway. The upstairs of our house was still quiet and our human family was still fast asleep.

  So Bogey and I were careful not to make any noise as we zoomed down the stairs. We ran into the office and jumped onto the desk.

  I looked at Bogey. “Why did she call you that? Grasshopper?”

  He shrugged. “I dunno, kid. It’s just something she does.” He began to type on the keyboard.

  “How are we going to do it?” I asked him. “How in the world can we get to the cat show?”

  The St. Gertrude Cat Show was held about thirty miles from our house. And while cats can run a long way, it would take us days to get to the show on foot. By then, it would be over. Not to mention, our human Mom and Dad would sure be upset if we disappeared for that long.

  No, we really needed our Mom to take us there. But the question was, how would we arrange it?

  I watched Bogey type some more words into the computer. Funny, but most humans have no idea that cats know how to work computers. Those of us who’ve been shelter cats get lots of practice at night, when all the humans go home.

  Bogey grinned. “Don’t sweat it, kid. I think I’ve got it figured out.”

  I could hardly believe my oversized ears. “You do?”

  “Yup,” he said. “I know exactly how we’ll get our Mom to take us to the cat show.”

  He did?

  Right about then, I’m sure my eyes went wider than they’ve ever been. Because when I said Bogey was an expert in this business, well, I wasn’t kidding!

  Holy catnip!

  CHAPTER 2

  Holy Mackerel! How in the world was Bogey going to get our Mom to take us to the cat show?

  I looked at my friend while he typed away on the keyboard. He paused for a second and helped himself to a cat treat. Then he just went back to typing again. A few seconds later, his paw hit the “Send” button. Then he typed and typed some more. After that, he hit the “Print” button.

  Finall
y, he sat back and grinned. “There! It’s all taken care of. There’s no way our Mom can say no to this.”

  I shook my head. “Huh?” I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

  He handed me the sheet of paper fresh off the printer. “We’ll leave this on the desk so our Mom will see it in the morning. I’ll even type out an envelope so it looks official. Our Mom has a very kind heart and she’ll want to help.”

  I took a glance at the paper he’d just handed me. “It’s a letter. From Felicia Fairweather. The President of the St. Gertrude Cat Club. Isn’t she in charge of . . . well . . . the whole cat show?”

  Bogey stretched his legs. “You got it, kid. Read the letter out loud.”

  I cleared my throat and looked back at the paper. “Dear Abigail . . .” I started. Then I looked back at Bogey. “Hey, that’s our Mom’s name. This letter is written to our Mom.”

  He nodded. “Uh-huh. Keep reading.”

  I returned to the letter. “I am writing to you today in desperate need. The St. Gertrude Cat Show is this coming weekend. And I’m afraid we don’t have enough boy cats signed up! This could be a huge disaster for us. We simply must have an equal number of boy and girl cats.”

  I glanced back at Bogey again. “Really?”

  Bogey grinned. “I wouldn’t know, kid. I made the whole thing up. It sounded like as good an excuse as any.”

  Now I twitched my ears in his direction. I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. “You made it up? What do you mean?”

  He grabbed another cat treat. “I mean I wrote the whole letter. But I made it look like Felicia Fairweather was the one who wrote it to our Mom. Just keep reading and you’ll understand.”

  Okay, by now my head was spinning. But I turned back to the paper and kept reading anyway. “So, my dear Abigail, when we noticed we didn’t have enough boy cats, I thought of you right away. Or, actually, I thought of your two very handsome black cats, Buckley and Bogart. I knew you would be kind enough to bring them if I asked you to. So I have signed them up for the show. Buckley will be in the Cutest Family Pet Competition. And Bogart will be in the Agility Competition.”