“Anatomy lesson, Annie. I don’t think you’re dealing with a ‘thumb’ that’s up,” the ghost of Dr. Derrick Fuller said.
I bit back a scream.
The spirit of the dead, half naked, know-it-all, self-help guru stared into the mirror on the back of my front door, and ran his fingers through his immaculate hair. “What do you think? Do my roots need a touch up?”
“Hey, are you okay?” Raphael looked concerned. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I nodded. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. No ghosts around here! You probably confused my ‘best-kiss-ever’ excited look with horror.” I slid off his lap and pointed at my hallway. “Eeks! Is that a spider climbing up the wall close to the ceiling? You know how much I hate spiders. Could you handle that for me, please?”
Raphael stood up and Mozart jumped to his feet. They walked to the corridor and peered at the ceiling. Theodore hopped off the couch, stretched, and ambled toward them.
I swiveled, frowned at Derrick, and slid my finger across my throat. “Leave.” I fake coughed into my hand. “Before I kill you.”
“Empty threats, Cupcake,” he said. “I’m already dead. Answer the question. Do I need a touch up? It’s bad enough being deceased, but being poorly coiffed is a completely different matter. I fear they’re not allowing me to enter the Afterlife because I’m disheveled. Saint Whatever His Name Is doesn’t recognize me.”
“Peter,” I said.
“Who’s Peter?” Raphael asked.
“Clean out your ears,” I said. “I just covered a sneeze.”
“Since when does one of your sneezes sound like ‘Peter’?” He asked.
Theodore raced into the living room like he’d been hit by a bolt of lightening, stopped in his tracks, gazed up at Derrick, and hissed.
“We’ll discuss this later,” Derrick said. “Go to your soirée with the delicious cop. I have errands to attend to. Some folks to check up on.”
I shook my head. “Folks to check up on? You can’t…”
“I think Mozart, or your cat, ate the spider, Annie,” Raphael said. “I brushed all the walls down with a rag and they watched me the entire time. Something nose dived from that ceiling grate toward the floor. Couldn’t tell if it was a dust bunny, or a bug, but the dog and cat were both on it. I do need to check in with some people at the party; they’re expecting me. Thanks for understanding. I’ll keep Kyle away from you, I promise. Take a jacket, it’s chilly out tonight. I need my girl staying warm, safe, and sound. You’re not coming down with something, are you?”
“No. Just the change of seasons.” I walked to the coat tree, grabbed a jacket, shrugged it on, and reached for my purse.
“It’s a Halloween bash,” Derrick said. “The hot cop might get away with not wearing a costume, but you can’t.”
I sighed, and picked up my witch’s hat from the coffee table, as Theodore hissed at Derrick again.
“Teddy seems jumpy tonight,” Raphael said. “Are you okay leaving him alone with the pooch?”
“Mozart’s good for him.” I glared at Derrick. “He could use friendly, intelligent company.”
“You need to take a chill pill,” Derrick said. “And pass that advice along to Puss N Boots as well. Nobody likes a scare-dy cat.”
Chapter 8
Bloody Hairy
Theodore (The Cat)
“I LOVE YOU. Be good. I’ll be home soon,” Annie said right before she shut the door. A draft of chilly night air blasted into our tiny apartment and I shivered.
“Oh, don’t be such a wuss,” Dr. Derrick Fuller said.
I regarded him disdainfully. I’d watched my share of supernatural TV shows and seen plenty of late-night horror movies as Annie and I spooned next to each other on the couch. This dead guy who had glombed onto her, and haunted our place since Valentine’s Day, wasn’t all that spectacular. “Oh, sod off, you pathetic lump of a ghost,” I meowed.
“Do you want me to bite him?” Mozart whimpered. “He doesn’t have a scent, and that kind of scares me, but I’d totally bite him for you.”
“You two furballs are up to something.” Derrick frowned. “But you’ll have to do it without me. I’ve got places to go and people to see. Watch this. I am more important and powerful than you. I am leaving here, now!” He clicked his bare heels together, but nothing happened; he was still standing in front of us clear as day.
“Say the word,” Mozart said. “I’m dying to bite him.”
“Don’t waste your energy.” I stretched in downward facing cat.
Derrick stared at his hand that de-materialized into blue specks. “Hah-hah!” He said. “I did that with the power of my intention. Better late than nev—”
And, like a fart in the wind, he was gone.
“What is he?” Mozart asked. “And why in the heck is he here?”
“He’s a ghost and an unwelcome guest in this house,” I said. “Annie can’t stand him. He used to be a bestselling self-help author. He screwed up her marriage, ruined her bakery business, and for a short while, she was even a suspect in his murder. Now he haunts her, nagging her to help him pass to the Afterlife. Trust me, it grows old. I spotted my first silver whisker the other day and I blame Derrick Fuller.”
“I’m not sure I believe in ghosts.” Mozart chewed nervously on his paw.
“How can you not believe in ghosts? You just saw one!” I plunked down next to him on my back, spread my legs, and attempted to groom my full-figured belly.
“You’ve got a lot of hair on your stomach.” Mozart eyed me. “Do you want me to do that for you?”
I glared at him. “Ew. That’s disgusting.” I got up and stalked off when I was distracted by a leg on the coffee table. I stopped and rubbed the side of my chin against it.
“Hey, man. No harm, no foul. I just called it how I saw it,” Mozart said. “Remember the other night when Annie’s friends did that thing with the mirror on the back of the door?”
“What thing?” I turned my head and rubbed the other side of my chin. Life was about balance, and who was I to argue with that?
Mozart hunched forward, scratched his ear, and his back foot thumped uncontrollably on the floor. “The thing where they were trying to get the attention of another spirit. Something with ‘Bloody’ in it.”
“Bloody Hairy?” I asked.
“Yes!” He said. “What if we did that and asked for a spirit to come through that could get rid of Derrick Fuller? Maybe even put him on a leash and make him go to the After party.”
“You mean the Afterlife,” I said.
“Cody always calls it an after party.”
“They aren’t the same thing.” I sniffed.
“Why don’t we just do it and see what happens?” He asked. “What’s it going to hurt?”
I stared at the small, dark flat screen on the living room wall. “Annie didn’t leave the TV on for us. No Anderson Cooper tonight.”
“Come on.” Mozart walked to the front of the mirror, sat down, and stared into it intently. “Bloody Hairy,” he said.
“Fine.” I ambled over. “But we don’t have a candle.”
“Who needs a candle?” Mozart asked. “We can practically see in the dark. Are you going to do this with me, or not?”
“Yes.” I lay down next to him. “Follow my lead.”
“Okay.”
I stared at my reflection in the mirror on the back of the door. I really was one good-looking cat. I closed my eyes and chanted. “Bloody Hairy, Bloody Hairy.”
“Bloody Hairy!” Mozart blurted.
I eyed him and blinked. “We have to say it in unison.”
“What does that mean?”
“We say it at the same time.”
He thumped his tail. “I can do that.”
“On the count of three,” I said. “Blooo…
“Blooo…” Mozart said.
We stared into the mirror and chanted, “Bloody Hairy, Bloody Hairy. Please visit us. We’re not that s
care-dy.”
Well, the dog said, “scary,” and I said, “scare-dy.” But it sounded pretty similar. We waited for about a minute but nothing happened.
“Should we try it again?” Mozart asked.
“Nah,” I said. “Urban legend. Waste of time. Stuff that old movies are made of. Ghost stories are, for the most part, ridiculous. What was I even thinking by agreeing to do this with you—ACK!” I yeowled at the top of my lungs, flattened myself low on the floor, and peered up at the tiled kitchen island.
“Another hairball?” Mozart asked.
I gulped. “You could say that.”
A cat sat on the countertop licking her paws. She had long, fuzzy black hair, emerald green eyes, and was a little on the chubby side. She looked at me and then regarded Mozart. “You’re an odd couple of spirit seekers,” she said. “My name’s Mary. You summoned me, I don’t have the rest of eternity to spend with you, so why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind, and we’ll get on with it, yes?”
Mozart backed away from her like he’d stepped on hot coals, and barked at the top of his lungs.
My paws were trembling, but I locked eyes with the spirit. “Nice to meet you, Mary. My name’s Theodore von Pumpernickle. And I am the boss of this household.”
Chapter 9
A Little Séance
Mozart (The Dog)
CAUTION. Danger. Warning! The fuzzy feline wasn’t there seconds before, and I wasn’t just a cute lap puppy, I was a ferocious guard dog, so I barked again.
“Be quiet,” Teddy hissed.
I eyed the black cat on top of the countertop suspiciously. “How in the heck did she get in here? Do you have a cat door? Is this like the Tree Holiday where the chubby guy squeezes down chimneys leaving toys and treats for good puppies?”
Or perhaps the feline with black puffs of smoke billowing around her was simply another intruder.
My ears swiveled back in my head, my lips pulled up on their own, and I growled.
“Tell the dog to can it,” the black cat said.
“Can it,” Teddy said.
“I’ll can it when you tell me who she is and what she’s doing here.”
“Like I said, my name’s Mary. You summoned my spirit during your little séance in front of the mirror.”
“No we didn’t,” I said. “We summoned ‘Hairy’.”
“Larry, Hairy, Fairy, what do I care?” she asked. “You got me. Larry and Terry were already out on assignment tonight, and Fairy’s booked months in advance inspiring Peter Pan types who write children’s books. Where are your manners, guys, and what’s on your minds?”
Teddy sighed, lowered his head, and trod toward the kitchen. “We were wondering if you could help us get rid of a human ghost and… what the heck happened to my food bowl?”
“It’s on the counter,” I said. “Next to Mary.” I sniffed in her direction.
Teddy gazed up at her and blinked. “I don’t care where you’re from; that’s not polite.”
“Don’t look at me.” Mary eyed the kibble and turned up her nose. “I just got here. I didn’t move your food. I wouldn’t touch those rabbit droppings when I was alive, let alone now. Think of the obvious, you dumb cluck. Your human moved it so the dog wouldn’t scarf it down.”
I started to tremble just like when the fireworks exploded on the fourth of July. “You’re dead aren’t you?” I asked. “You’re a ghost cat. I could probably swipe my paw through you right now if I wanted to.”
“Don’t touch me, dog,” she said. “Besides, who did you think you were summoning with your little ‘Bloody Hairy” prank? Clint Eastwood?”
“I do believe you’re referencing Dirty Harry,” Teddy said. “We’re sorry, Mary. We were just having a little fun. You can go back into the mirror now and scram before my human gets home. It was super nice to meet you. Please tell Fairy we’re big fans of children’s books—specially the ones that have cats.”
“Dogs,” I said. “Especially dogs that sound like this when they are stressed.” I plunked my butt down on the floor, extended my head back and howled, “Woo, woo, woo!”
“I came back for this?” Mary asked.
“Shut up,” Teddy hissed.
Suddenly the door made funny clanking noises, flew open, and smashed into the wall behind it with a bang.
The Slick Intruder strode into the room dressed in long, black coattails, wearing a lot of makeup, and his hair was even greasier than before. He glanced around victoriously. “I received a text that there was a dog disturbing the peace at the 1800 building. Thank God, I was just around the corner at Mr. Fartier’s Halloween bash.” He regarded me crazy-eyed, snapped open his briefcase, pulled out a long, thick strap, and fashioned a noose at one end. “Looks like I’ve caught you, Annie Graceland.”
“Annie’s not here,” Teddy said, but it sounded more like, “Meow.”
I backed up and glanced around for an escape route, but the apartment was tiny, and there was nowhere to go. The Intruder slung the strap toward me, it struck my head, and I winced.
“Meanie,” Mary hissed. “Bite him.”
“Don’t bite him,” Teddy said. “If you sink one tooth into his overly made up skin, the dog police will lock you up in pet prison, and put you on trial.”
The Intruder lunged at me, but I leaped to the side, and evaded him.
Teddy jumped up on the counter next to Mary and they eyed each other suspiciously.
“Don’t look at us,” Mary said. “Keep your eye on the vampire. I don’t trust him or his fake teeth.”
The Intruder pulled a tennis ball out of his pocket and held it up in the air. “I know you want this.”
I forgot about the strap and wagged my tail. The ball was super green and looked new.
“What are you doing?” Teddy asked. “Don’t fall for his stupid dog toy trick.”
“It’s not just a stupid dog toy.” I kept my eyes trained on it, licked my lips, and barely registered as Slick approached me. The next thing I knew, the guy had slipped the loop over my head, and it landed on top of my shoulders.
“Got you, dog.” He jumped away and pulled the noose tight. I bucked into the air and barked until the pressure around my throat made my voice hoarse, and I saw stars.
“Holy whiskers!” Mary exclaimed. “That’s just plain wrong!”
“Drats!” Theodore said. “I thought Derrick Fuller was the biggest creep in town, but Slick’s got him beat.”
The Intruder yanked on the leash. I planted my feet firmly on the floor and resisted, but he dragged me, one paw at a time, out of the apartment. “Tell Cody,” I said. “Tell him what happened. He has to come find me. Promise me you’ll tell him!”
“I promise,” Teddy said.
* * *
SLICK PULLED me down the path toward the street and I fought him every step of the way. “You stupid mutt,” he said. “Is it too much to ask that your big, fat paws land on the stepping stones and not the new drought friendly landscaping?” He held a small fob in his hand that held the briefcase and pointed it at a car double-parked at the curb. Beep! Beep! The car’s remote chirped.
I stared at the passenger door and doubted that he’d be able to open it as it was parked super close to another vehicle. Cody would not like that I was getting into a strange car with a mean person. Cody would get mad, and when he got angry, whoa, look out.
A sharp, cracking noise rang out, and a streetlight a short distance away from us exploded, raining slivers of glass onto the street. I startled, the rope bit into my neck, and I yelped.
My eyes adjusted quickly to the diminished lighting, I had to get away, but I didn’t know how.
Mr. Slick shook his head. “Vandals with BB guns and fireworks. Halloween’s a magnet for law-breakers. What’s next?” He popped the trunk open and pulled me to it. “Come on, you filthy mongrel,” he said. “Hop inside. We’re going for a little ride.”
I barked, squirmed, and tried to back away, but he had me in a stranglehold.
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“Don’t go!” Teddy hollered as he and Mary padded across the yard toward me.
“You are not supposed to leave Annie’s house.” I barked. “You’re going to get in big trouble.”
“Special circumstances—ow,” Teddy said. “Something’s stuck in my paw.” He shook his back foot behind him. “What is this round stuff on the ground? It looks like giant cat litter. I do not want to see the size of the cat that needs litter this big…”
“Don’t be a wienie, Theodore,” Mary said. “Your friend needs us.”
I didn’t know about Mary’s owner, but I knew Annie would kill whoever let Teddy outside.
“Go back,” I said. “Find Cody.” I gasped for breath as Slick tried to yank me up into the car’s trunk.
“Jump inside, dog,” he said. “I don’t have all day.”
“No you don’t, you giant turd,” a voice said from the darkness behind the lamp pole. “You don’t even have the rest of tonight.” A hooded figure wrestled the leash from Slick, wrapped it around his neck, and strangled him. He gurgled and fought back.
The more Slick struggled, the tighter the noose around my own neck squeezed, until I was practically seeing stars. When a gunshot rang out, Slick pitched forward into the trunk, and collapsed.
I yelped, broke free, and the leash bounced off the ground behind me. I bolted as fast as my legs would carry me.
“Come back here, you stupid mutt,” the mean man said.
“Run, Mozart!” Mary said.
Chapter 10
Nothing but Dust Bunnies
Annie
“WHAT WAS I THINKING?” I paced my apartment looking for clues. “I left them here alone, without supervision, and now they’re both gone. I’m a horrible cat mother and a rotten dog sitter.”
“No, you’re not.” Raphael grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “You’re terrific at both. This isn’t your fault. We’re going to find them.”
A uniformed male police officer turned to me. “Are you certain you haven’t found anything broken or missing in your apartment, Miss Graceland? That is other than your cat?”
Cupcakes, Bats, and Scare-dy Cats (An Annie Graceland Cozy Mystery Book 6) Page 3