“I have to go,” Clarissa told her aunt. “Bye.”
“That chiropractor your dad recommended is a miracle worker!” Parker exclaimed as he walked over. “I wasn’t sure how I’d even be able to function with my back seizing up, but now I feel almost as good as new!”
“That’s great,” Clarissa said. She was genuinely happy for him, but she was also distraught over her own predicament. She covered her wart with her hand and tried to muster up the appropriate amount of enthusiasm.
“What are you doing?” Parker asked.
“What do you mean?” she asked, feigning ignorance.
“Did you superglue your hand to your face again?”
“No!” she told him huffily. Then she scowled. “And by the way, I didn’t superglue my hand to my face that other time, either. I superglued my fingers together when I was scrapbooking and then briefly touched my cheek, that’s all.”
“Ah yes, that’s right. That’s much better.”
“Stop it!” Clarissa glared at him.
Parker smirked. “Scrapbooking is a dangerous hobby, isn’t it?”
“Are you finished yet?” she asked him.
“Yes,” he laughed. Then he looked at her. “Seriously, what’s with your hand?”
“Nothing,” she insisted.
With a grin, Parker grabbed Clarissa’s hand. She put up a fight, but he managed to wrestle it away from her face. Once her chin was uncovered, she gave up on struggling. She had hoped to conceal the wart with some cleverly applied makeup or something, but now that ship had sailed.
“Fine,” she sighed. “Go on. Make your jokes.”
A look of confusion came over Parker’s face. “Make my jokes about what?”
“This!” she exclaimed dramatically, gesturing to the awful monstrosity on her face.
Parker squinted and leaned in closer for a better look. “What, that little thing?”
“It’s a wart!” Clarissa told him sorrowfully.
“Nah, it’s just a tiny little pimple. It’s barely even noticeable,” he assured her.
Clarissa wasn’t so sure. Maybe her boyfriend was just trying to be nice. Or maybe he was so stunned by the grotesque growth on her face that he was in denial! She gingerly touched her fingertip to the affected part of her chin.
“Are you alright?” Parker asked, sidling up to her and slinging an arm around her shoulders.
“I think it’s a wart,” she told him, convinced that her aunt and the cat knew more about that sort of thing than he did. “What if it doesn’t go away? What if I get more of them? I could, you know. I could get more of them.”
“It wouldn’t matter,” Parker replied.
“It wouldn’t? I might be hideous.”
He chuckled at that. “You could never be hideous,” he assured her as he gave her a squeeze. “You’re the prettiest girl I know.”
“Looks can fade,” she pointed out. “Looks do fade.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Parker insisted as they began to walk down the street toward her parents’ house. “There’s nobody else I’d rather look at. Besides, you’re pretty on the inside too.” He glanced over at the neighbor’s garage, which was wide open. “Is that your cat in there?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “It likes to snoop.”
“Typical cat,” Parker joked. “Should we go see what your parents are up to? I can’t believe our time in Florida is nearly over. It’s been a really great trip. Well, aside from the murder and stuff. The non-murderous parts have been a blast.”
“Yeah,” Clarissa agreed. It hadn’t gone at all how she had imagined, what with a murder at the bingo hall and all…but it had still been a good time. “I’ll be glad to get home, though,” she added. “I miss Sugarcomb Lake.”
“Admit it. What you really miss is the newspaper,” Parker said as the cat charged past them.
“Well, that too,” Clarissa nodded. “Leaving the newspaper in somebody else’s hands while I went on vacation was a huge deal. I hope the new employee I hired did a good job of overseeing things. I must have left her a million pages of instructions…I just hope she read them!”
“And followed them,” Parker chimed in.
“That too,” Clarissa nodded, grimacing.
“I’m not so sure the cat is ready to go home,” Parker remarked as he and Clarissa walked up the front drive. He pointed to the fluffy feline, who was now sprawled out in the grass lounging in the sun. “Somebody looks awfully happy.”
“My parents have been slipping the cat treats every chance they get,” Clarissa replied. “Just yesterday, I caught my dad spoon feeding the cat vanilla pudding. And as for my mom…well, she says she has a grand-cat. Are grand-cats even a thing?”
“Apparently they are now.”
Clarissa rolled her eyes. “She keeps making dumb remarks about how my sister and I aren’t getting any younger. I think she’s given up on ever having grandchildren. She figures the closest she’ll ever come to being a grandmother is having a grand-cat.”
Suddenly the front door of the house opened.
Ed was standing there holding a freshly baked oatmeal raison cookie. “Cat!” he called. “Here, Cat!” Then he looked down. “Oh, there you are! Look what I’ve got for you!” he exclaimed in a singsong voice.
Clarissa cleared her throat.
Ed glanced over. He froze when he saw Clarissa and Parker standing at the bottom of the porch steps. His eyes widened when he realized he had been caught red-handed.
“What have you got there, Dad?” she asked.
“Your mother just took some oatmeal raison cookies out of the oven,” Ed mumbled, looking sheepish. “They’re really good! They’re so good I’m having trouble staying out of them! Go get some before they all disappear,” he advised.
“What were you about to do?” Clarissa asked, still focused on what she had witnessed.
“What do you mean?” Ed replied. “I was coming out here to hide from Betty, that’s all. She’s in there yapping away. And watching her flirt with Jack was making me queasy. I don’t know what he sees in her! I guess he must like glitter.”
Parker began to chuckle.
Encouraged by the reaction, Ed continued on his comical little rant. “Can you believe your mother is making me go bowling with Betty next weekend? She’s calling it a double date. Let me tell you, I have another name for it! I tell ya, I must have done something horrible in a previous life to be punished like this.”
Clarissa folded her arms and refused to be sidetracked. “Don’t try to change the subject. Dad, tell the truth. You were going to feed that cookie to the cat, weren’t you?”
“Of course not,” Ed said, looking incredibly guilty. “Why would I give a cat a cookie?”
“It’s almost dinnertime, you know. And for some odd reason, I’ve had to throw out an awful lot of cat food since we got to Florida,” Clarissa told him. She stroked her chin thoughtfully. “I wonder why the cat isn’t eating its cat food…”
“Maybe it isn’t used to the heat,” Ed suggested. “It gets hot here, you know.”
Clarissa shot her father A Look. “Maybe someone has been feeding it too much people food!”
“Fine,” Ed relented. “No more cookies for the cat after this one.”
Clarissa threw her hands up in frustration. “No cookies at all!”
Parker was smirking.
Ed slung an arm around Parker’s shoulders. “Come on, son. Let’s go get ourselves some cookies, what do you say? It’s almost dinnertime, but I won’t tell the missus we were snacking if you don’t.”
As Ed and Parker retreated into the house, Ed dropped the cookie he was holding.
“Oops!” he exclaimed as the cat raced over and began to gobble it up.
“Dad,” Clarissa said disapprovingly. “I know that was intentional!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ed replied with a gleam in his eye.
The two men disappeared into the house to feast on baked goods. Clari
ssa lingered behind.
“My stomach hurts,” Cat complained.
“Then stop eating,” Clarissa replied. She reached for the half-devoured cookie.
“No! Mine!” the cat growled, immediately becoming possessive.
“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Clarissa cautioned.
“Don’t care. Tastes good,” the cat grunted in between gluttonous snorts.
Clarissa sighed. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”
“I’m the smartest,” the cat retorted. Suddenly it bolted upright. “What was that?!” It spun around a few times in an attempt to capture its tail. Then it let out a burp and flopped over on its side, looking like a beached whale. “The smartest,” it said again, dead serious.
“Anyway, in case you haven’t heard, our vacation is almost over. We’re heading back to Sugarcomb Lake. It will be good to be home. I can get back to overseeing the newspaper and you can get back to…doing whatever it is you do.”
“You say that like my work isn’t important!” the cat scoffed.
“Don’t be silly. Napping in the sun for hours every day is very important.”
“I also patrol the yard,” Cat informed Clarissa huffily. “I chase squirrels and birds away.”
“You do,” Clarissa nodded. “Thank you for that, by the way.”
“You’re mocking me” Cat said accusingly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Cat looked Clarissa right in the eye. “I also chase ghosts away.”
Her blood ran cold at that. The little devil really knew how to get to her.
“I really do appreciate that,” she said, this time in a more sincere tone of voice. “It would be great if you would continue letting ghosts know they aren’t welcome on my property or anywhere near me. Thanks!”
“There’s one behind you right now!” Cat announced matter-of-factly.
Clarissa let out a shriek and spun around. Of course, there was nothing there. But then again, she couldn’t see ghosts. Cat could. For all she knew, maybe there really was a ghost hovering over her shoulder! Eek!
She jumped off the front porch and ran into the garden just to be sure.
“I was kidding!” Cat crowed, sounding all kinds of amused. “That will teach you to mock me!”
“You’re such a brat!” Clarissa exclaimed. Her heart was still pounding, but she forced herself to calmly walk back onto the front porch. “We’ll see how smart you feel tomorrow when I load you into your pet carrier,” she said smugly.
“I will not be caged!” Cat howled melodramatically.
“You have to be. Airline rules,” Clarissa reminded her high-strung pet.
“Then leave me here!” Cat wailed.
Clarissa shook her head in exasperation. “You deserve an Emmy,” she said.
“What’s that? Is it something delicious?” Cat asked eagerly.
“Never mind,” Clarissa sighed.
“Seriously though, I don’t want to go back on the giant mechanical bird,” Cat informed her. “I hate birds! Why don’t you leave me here? It would be cruel to take me away from your parents. I’m their only grand-cat!”
“Who would keep the squirrels off my property?” Clarissa asked.
“Hmm, that’s a good point.”
“What about the birds?” Clarissa continued. “My garden would be overrun by them!”
“Ooh!” Cat seethed, nostrils flaring. “I hate birds!”
“Yes, you may have mentioned that one or two million times before.” Clarissa looked down at her furry companion. “I need you. I need you to keep the birds, squirrels and ghosts in line. Besides, I’ve gotten kind of used to having you around…shedding and all.”
“I am extremely awesome,” the little egomaniac agreed.
“Do you really want to stay here?”
Cat was silent.
“Wouldn’t you miss me?” Clarissa pressed.
Cat glared at her.
“You wouldn’t miss me even a tiny bit?”
The cat gave a vague, non-committal grunt in response.
“Okay,” Clarissa shrugged, deciding to use reverse psychology. “If you really, truly want to stay here in Florida, I can talk to my parents about taking you in. In fact, I’ll go talk to them right now.” She purposefully marched over to the front door.
“Wait!” Cat exclaimed suddenly, running over at lightning speed despite its bloated belly. It stood firmly on Clarissa’s foot, effectively preventing her from going anywhere.
“Yes?” Clarissa asked with exaggerated patience. “Did you want something?”
“You need me,” Cat declared. “If I stayed here, you’d be all alone in that big house. Who would you talk to? Talking to yourself would be pathetic…even more pathetic than you already are, I mean. You’d also be overrun by birds! They’d eat all the berries in your garden and poop all over your car.”
“Yes,” Clarissa agreed. “I’m sure they would.”
“And what would you do with your time?” Cat continued. “I know you live to serve me. You spend your days scooping my litter box and vacuuming up my fur. It’s your identity. It would be selfish of me to take that away from you.”
“Oh? Is that what you think?”
“Of course it is. So really,” Cat concluded, “I can’t stay here. Sure, it will be hard on your parents to say goodbye to me. But they will just have to worship me from afar. You’re my human and it’s my duty to let you serve me. Now let me in the house – I want another cookie.”
Clarissa smiled. “I love you too,” she whispered as the cat haughtily strutted inside.
Chapter 22
“Did you save any cookies for me?” Clarissa asked as she walked into her parents’ kitchen. Everyone was seated around the table, happily devouring a pre-dinner snack.
“Just a few,” Ed said, thrusting a plate toward her. “Get ‘em while they’re warm!”
“I’ll get you a nice cold glass of milk,” Constance offered, pushing her chair back from the table. “I guess we’ll be having a late dinner tonight. Your father can’t seem to stay out of the cookies – and neither can this cat of yours.”
“Meow,” said Cat, winding around Constance’s ankles and purring loudly.
Ed gave the cat a wink and tossed it another cookie.
“Are my ears playing tricks on me?” Parker asked Clarissa, looking puzzled.
“What do you mean?”
“I could have sworn I heard someone scream,” he replied as he took a sip of milk. “I was just about to go investigate when you came inside.”
“Oh, that. There was, um…there was a bee,” Clarissa fibbed. Technically it probably wasn’t a lie. Her mother’s garden was full of happily buzzing bees.
“I can’t believe you’re heading back to Minnesota already,” Ed sighed.
“Mmhmm, this visit has gone by too fast,” Constance said sadly.
“I agree!” Betty chimed in. “It seems like you just got here.”
Betty was perched atop Jack’s lap, all cozied up to him. As she watched Betty feed him a cookie, Clarissa couldn’t help but think Jack was going to be completely covered in glitter when he stood up.
“It’s been a great visit,” Parker said. “Thank you again for your hospitality.”
“Oh any time! And I do mean any time. It’s been wonderful having you kids here. We want to see lots more of you,” Ed told Parker affectionately. He seemed to have decided that Clarissa’s boyfriend was the son he’d never had. It was pretty heartwarming, really.
“Your father and I have fantastic news!” Constance announced suddenly.
“You do?” Clarissa asked.
“We do?” Ed asked at the same time.
“Yes,” Constance nodded. “Your father and I are so looking forward to spending Christmas with you in Sugarcomb Lake! Your sister will be there too – she says she’ll fly in on Christmas Eve. It will be just like old times, everyone back together under one roof. We can’t wait!�
�
“Oh. Great,” Clarissa said, smiling through clenched teeth. The prospect of hosting Christmas for her entire family was already stressing her out and it wasn’t even December yet!
“That’s not even the best part,” Constance said, practically beaming with joy.
“Oh?” Clarissa asked cautiously.
“You know how your father hates flying,” Constance reminded Clarissa.
“I can relate,” the cat muttered, speaking quietly so that only Clarissa could hear.
“Traveling is always extra stressful around the holidays,” Constance continued. “All those long lines at the airport…everybody is always in such a rush…it can be a nightmare. That’s why we decided to avoid it!” she chirped.
Clarissa blinked. “Huh? I thought you just said you and Dad are coming for Christmas.”
“Oh we are,” Constance assured her. “But we don’t want to travel during the holidays. So your father and I are going to fly out well before the holiday rush starts. And we’ll stay well into January. Oh, it will be so much fun!”
Clarissa froze.
“Are, um, are you sure that’s a good idea?” she finally managed to stutter. “That’s a long time to visit. I mean, who will watch your house? It can’t just sit empty while you’re gone.”
“Don’t worry! I’ll housesit for as long as you want!” Betty volunteered.
Clarissa could have strangled her.
“I’ll load the dishwasher,” Parker volunteered, sensing the tension that had suddenly taken over. He stood up and began to collect plates and glasses.
Clarissa followed him.
“My parents just invited themselves to my house for like, a month!” she exclaimed in horror.
“Maybe it will be fun,” Parker suggested.
She gave him A Look that promptly shut him up.
“If that long of a visit doesn’t work for you, then you should tell them,” he advised. “It’s your house now, Clarissa. You’re the one hosting. If you can’t put your parents up for a month, then you should let them know.”
“But they’re my parents!” Clarissa protested feebly.
Parker shrugged. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”
The Name of the Game is Murder (A Clarissa Spencer Cozy Mystery Book 6) Page 13