You've Got To Be Kitten: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Cozy Mystery

by Corrine Winters

  “Indeed. I do think it’s time you and Felix left, however. It’s late and you have that thing at the Marina tomorrow.”

  “Right. The boring piece about the Marina renovations.” Blair shook her head, face twisted into a mask of disgust. “I think sometimes my boss gives me dull assignments just to mess with me. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

  “Positive. John will have an officer sent out soon enough, and I believe Busta Kapp is long gone. Besides, I’m about to deal with Cotton Mather once and for all by introducing him to Mr. Starfish’s bowl. You expressed distaste with that notion, so…”

  “I would rather not be here,” Blair said, gathering up her purse. “No offense.”

  “Ruby…” Rumpus pawed her leg.

  “In a moment, Rumpus, I’m saying good night to our guest.”

  “Ruby!” His pawing grew insistent.

  “For Goddess’ sake, what?”

  “Where’s the snail with Cotton Mather’s soul in it?”

  Ruby scowled. “It’s right over there, in the bowl…”

  Her jaw dropped open, words dying in her throat as she regarded the broken glass fragments scattered on the floor. Fragments which used to be the fishbowl holding Cotton Mather. A trail of slime weaved through the shards of glass and out the open door.

  “I must have missed one of the bullets,” Blair said. “It’s my fault.”

  “No, it’s not. You stopped the bullets that mattered, the ones that were going to hit us.” Ruby shook her head and groaned. “This Cotton Mather guy is really starting to tick me off!”

  Twenty-Eight

  The Sound’s waves lapped at the rocky shore as Ruby stood at the edge of the peninsula. Her eyes were closed, seeing the ebb and flow of tides and currents rather than particles of light.

  “Where are you, Cotton Mather?” She muttered. Rumpus and Rufus tracked the slime trail to the cliffside and reasoned he plunged into the surging, foamy waters below.

  Ruby knew finding the reincarnated witch hunter would be next to impossible, but she had to try.

  “Hey, Ruby.” Rumpus came to her side and sat on his haunches. “Chief Miller is here.”

  “Right.” She sighed in exasperation, staring out over the Sound.

  “Did you find any trace?”

  “I hate to trample a cliché, but needles and haystacks spring to mind.” A frustrated grunt escaped her throat. “Shoot. I had him, I finally had him, and then…”

  “No one could have known Busta Kapp would try to, um, well, bust a cap in you?”

  “I underestimated him, for certain.” Ruby walked around the lighthouse toward the front entrance. “The real question is, was he trying to eliminate the witness to his kidnapping and assault charges, or does it have something to do with Roger’s death?”

  “No, the question is where is the jerk who shot at us?” Rumpus harrumphed.

  She smiled sheepishly at John as she came around the lighthouse and met his aquamarine gaze. “Sorry you have to keep coming out to deal with my problems.”

  “It’s literally my job, and it’s no trouble.” John’s eyes were alert, but dark circles lurked beneath them.

  “Did I wake you up?”

  “Just cat napping on the sofa,” John said. “It’s, ah, real comfortable.”

  Ruby frowned as his gaze darted off toward the water. What’s he trying to say?

  “Anyway,” John said. “I called in some help from the Sheriff’s department. We’ve got officers and deputies combing Fiddler’s Cove. If Whitley is still around, we’ll find him.”

  “Thanks.” The sea-scented breeze stirred a lock of hair in front of Ruby’s eyes. She moved it aside and considered John for a long moment. “Um, I didn’t expect you to come out yourself.”

  “Why not?” John moved past her and ate up the ramp with his long strides. “Let’s take a look at the crime scene.”

  “I left the shells where they—where did the shells go?”

  Rufus looked up sheepishly from where he’d gathered the shells in a small pile. “I—I’m sorry. I hit one with my paw, and I liked the sound so much—”

  “Rufus…” Ruby put her hands on her hips. The cat’s gaze dropped to the floor.

  “It’s alright, Rufus. It’s not like I can call in a forensic ballistics team when magic is involved.” He squatted down and stroked his meaty hand across Rufus’ fur. “I just need one shell anyway to match to Kapp’s gun. You can keep the rest.”

  “Gee, thanks. You’re such a nice person, Chief Miller.” Rufus rubbed his face on John’s knee. “Mine. Mine. Mine. You’re mine now. I’m claiming you…”

  “Awww,” Ruby said, feeling warmth spread over her chest. “You know, John, you can tell a lot about a person by virtue of whether or not they like cats.”

  “Really?” John stood up, pinching a shell casing in thumb and forefinger. His aqua gaze darted her way. “That’s an interesting notion.”

  “It is, isn’t it? And there’s even science to back it up, much as I hate dealing with that stuff. They think they know so much, and they couldn’t tell a Shadow Realm from a portal to the Ninth Hell.”

  Ruby noticed John grinning at her and cleared her throat. “Ahem. I digress…anyway, cats are independent. You have to earn their attention and their love. People who prefer dogs to cats are often lazy when it comes to emotional labor.”

  “Emotional labor, huh?”

  “Yeah, it’s like the work of maintaining a relationship. For example, you’re kind to Rufus whenever you see him, you listen to him and take his viewpoint seriously. That’s emotional labor. Same as when one of your underlings has a rough day, and you talk about sports or beer or something to cheer them up.”

  John laughed. “Golf. Usually, we wind up talking about golf.”

  Ruby cocked an eyebrow. “Wait, do you have a membership at the Country Club?”

  “I might. Why?” His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Ruby said, thinking she may have found a possible in for Trixie’s husband. “Right now, I have to tell you the worse news.”

  “Worse than being shot at by a wanted criminal?” John deposited the shell casing in a plastic bag and stowed it in his pocket. “This ought to be interesting.”

  Ruby explained her plan to trap Cotton Mather in a new body, and how it had failed when Mather escaped using a sea snail’s natural abilities. John annoyed her with his utter lack of concern.

  “So? He’s trapped in a sea snail’s body. What’s he going to do, leave a trail of slime along your ramp and make you slip?”

  “John…” Ruby sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Maybe I’m not explaining myself well enough. We’re talking about an apparition with a demonic patron. One who took great pains to try and prevent us from banishing Mather. It’s not something we can shrug off. There are magical means of restoring him to a different body.”

  “What am I supposed to do, Ruby?” He asked, spreading his hands wide. “Put out an APB on a slug? Ask the Coast Guard to loan us some frogmen? For the time being, I think the safest bet is for you to vacate this property.”

  “What?” Ruby crossed her arms over her chest. “I will do no such thing.”

  “Ruby, be reasonable.” John sighed. “Kapp knows where you live, and so does Mather. You should stay somewhere else. At least for tonight.”

  Ruby cocked an eyebrow. “Like at a hotel?”

  “I was thinking more like my place.”

  Ruby’s eyes went wide. She stared incredulously into John’s smiling face. His grin fled the scene as his eyes danced with comprehension. “On my sofa! You can stay at my place on the sofa! It’s really comfortable. I wasn’t…you know, I’m not trying to, um…”

  “I get it, but I’ll be fine.” Ruby smiled. “I’ll put up some extra wards and what have you, and I’ll be fine.”

  “Please, Ruby,” John said. “It would make me feel better, alright? You can even bring the cats.”

  R
umpus gasped. “Rufus, we’re going to have a sleepover at the Chief of Police’s house.”

  “Does that mean it’s time for the, um…”

  “The New Man in Ruby’s Life protocols, yes.” Rumpus nodded sagely. “I’ll check under the bathroom cabinets for saran wrap. You look in his attic for trophies from people he may or may not have murdered. Then we reconvene in the back yard to dig up his garden and check to see if he’s been grinding up missing people for fertilizer.”

  “Rumpus, you will not do any of those things!” Ruby said firmly. She looked over at John. “Are you sure it won’t be too much trouble?”

  “No, it’ll be fine. Why don’t you put together an overnight bag and meet me out front?”

  Ruby felt her heart fluttering in her chest. A giddy, low-key excitement tingled through her body. She was surprised to find how much she looked forward to spending time with Johnny Mumbles.

  John’s home sat two miles from downtown on rugged cliffs overlooking a boulder-strewn beach. The ranch-style house featured a wide fireplace made of smoothly-rounded, amber-hued stones. Rufus and Rumpus immediately claimed the hearth for themselves, laying on a wide, limestone rim before the fire.

  “Will you build us a fire, John?” Rufus asked hopefully.

  John shrugged. “Why not? It’s cooled off enough outside to warrant it.”

  “Now this is a proper fireplace. I’ll expect installation to begin immediately.”

  “You can expect whatever you like, Rumpus, but I’m not committing to any remodels of the lighthouse yet.”

  John stacked several logs in the fireplace’s metal grill, then tossed in wood chips for kindling. He glanced over his massive shoulder at Ruby. “Have you decided if you’re going to stay or not yet?”

  There was an added tension to his voice, an unspoken question. Namely, if Ruby were to return to New York, then where would that leave their burgeoning…what? Friendship? Something more? Ruby felt the urge to move forward with slow, cautious steps, but she felt for certain there was something there, or at least the potential for such.

  “I haven’t, no,” Ruby said, shaking her head. “Honestly, I haven’t had much of a chance to soak it all in yet, you know? It’s hard to reconcile my long-awiated return when I keep having these other problems, like being accused of murder.”

  John chuckled softly. “I don’t think you have to worry about that any longer. It’s becoming obvious Kapp is the killer.”

  “Are you sure?” Ruby frowned as John scooped out a chunk of Crisco and dropped it into a brown lunch bag. “What are you doing? Is this a merman thing?”

  “This is a lazy-way-to-start-a-fire thing. Set the bag on fire, the Crisco lights and drips onto the logs and kindling.”

  The fire hissed and popped, blossoming to life and casting azure-tinged shadows dancing across John’s face. Ruby felt as if she could get used to sitting beside a fire with John. Entirely too easy.

  “Right. Looks like it works quite well.” Ruby sat up straighter on the sofa as John moved to join her. He kept a polite two-foot distance from her, but that proved near enough to set Ruby’s heart to racing. “Don’t you have any other suspects other than myself and Busta Kapp?”

  “Not really. I mean, the secretary had a rock-solid alibi, and so did Abernathy’s ex-wife—”

  “Ex-wife?” Ruby gaped. “He got married?”

  “You didn’t know?” John put a hand in front of his mouth, looking aghast. “Sorry. I guess I kind of dropped that bomb on you with no warning, then.”

  “It’s alright,” Ruby said, flinching. “It stings a little. Okay, more than a little. So, I guess this woman didn’t get in the way of him climbing mountains, huh?”

  “Well, their marriage didn’t last long. She asked for a divorce less than a month after they said their vows.”

  I’m surprised Roger didn’t have her sign a prenup.”

  “Oh, he did, but she fought it in court and had it voided. Now, Roger pays her alimony to the tune of fifty thousand a month. Or I should say, she did before he died.”

  “So she didn’t have much motive.”

  “No, and she had a decent alibi, to boot. I don’t have enough that would nail him for sure, but I really like Whitley as our killer. He had a grudge against our victim, after all, and he’s already proven to have the propensity for violence.”

  “I’m not disputing that,” Ruby said. “I’m just saying, we need to find the evidence that proves it’s Kapp. Otherwise, there’s still a killer out there.”

  “Maybe Troy will talk.” John’s tone suggested he thought it was a long shot.

  “You don’t sound too confident about that.”

  “I wish I could be.” His face split in a warm smile. “Say, sorry to blab on endlessly about the case.”

  “Don’t be. It was…nice. Like we were a crime-fighting duo. Like Starskey and Hutch.”

  “I was thinking more Ponch and John.”

  “Who?”’

  “Chips. California Highway Patrol? Two motorcycle cops?”

  “I might remember something…vaguely. Estrada something?”

  “Yes, that’s right,” John said with an eager laugh. He scooted a bit closer. “It wasn’t as cool as Airwolf, but—”

  “Oh, I liked Airwolf,” Ruby said. “I used to watch it with my Uncle. I always wanted my own attack chopper.”

  “Didn’t everyone?” John stood up and poked at the fire, then glanced back at her. “Say, you want something to drink? I have tea.”

  “What kind?”

  “Earl Grey.”

  “Ew.”

  “It’s all I’ve got.”

  “Okay, fine, but there’d better be honey and lemon in it.”

  John chuckled. “I’ll see to it.” He went through the spacious arch connecting living space to his kitchen. John filled up a silver tea kettle at the sink, looking her way while the water rushed inside with a hiss.

  “Do you remember V? The Series?”

  “I remember being terrified of lizard people aliens for years after,” Ruby said, standing up and joining him in the kitchen. It felt natural, easy to talk to John. For law enforcement, he was remarkably non-judgmental. She felt as if she could relax around him, even without makeup or one of her body-flattering outfits.

  They chatted well into the night, until the fire was nothing more than the glow of embers. Rumpus snored loudly, Rufus snored softly. Other than the occasional crackle from the fire and their low conversation, there were no other sounds.

  “I forgot how quiet this town gets late at night,” Ruby said with a sigh.

  “Yeah. Feels like we’re the only ones awake.” John reached for his teacup and noticed it was empty. “Refill?”

  “No, thank you, I need to get to sleep soon. I’ve got to try and find a murderous mollusk tomorrow.”

  John nodded. “I understand. I’ll go get you a pillow and blanket from the closet—”

  His landline phone rang, startling Ruby. She hadn’t seen one of those in a while. John went to the phone and lifted it from the cradle.

  She couldn’t make out what he said, but his jaw clenched tight, his gaze grew grim.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked as he hung up the phone with a neat click.

  “That was a call patched in from through the station from the County Jail. Troy Malone was involved in an incident. His body was found stabbed to death in the laundry room.”

  Twenty-Nine

  A low mist clung to Fiddler Cove, shrouding the sun behind its effusive curtain as dawn broke. Ruby awakened feeling surprisingly refreshed given she’d had so little sleep. She drew up her knees onto the sofa and huddled deep into the blankets as the smell of spiced sausage reached her nose.

  “Sorry, did I wake you?”

  Ruby glanced over at John, already showered, shaved, and dressed in his uniform. Catlike muscles rippled in his forearms as he stirred a clear bowl filled with yellow slurry. His eyes remained locked with her own as he whipped the slurry in
to a froth.

  “No, you’re fine,” Ruby said, hiding a yawn behind her hand. “Which way was the bathroom again?”

  “To your right, past the bedroom.” Ruby’s gaze danced about John’s home as she headed for her morning ablutions. In the light of day, she could make out a lot of sea-themed décor. Conch shells, netting, petrified starfish mosaics…for a guy who allegedly didn’t want anything to do with his Mehr heritage, John certainly liked to surround himself with trappings of the ocean.

  The scrambled eggs plated up to her at the kitchen table were light and fluffy. Their conversation was anything but.

  “No kidding? Stabbed thirty times?” Ruby smeared a pat of butter across golden brown toast and set it aside to melt together. “And no one saw anything?”

  “Word is, the Stone Cold Thuggers pulled off the hit. And guess who posed with members of the Thuggers for his new album?”

  Ruby’s eyes went wide. “You think the gang killed Troy Malone to protect Busta Kapp?”

  “Maybe. I know one way to find out, if you’re up for it.”

  Ruby bit into her toast and chewed carefully while she scrutinized John. “I don’t know, officer, is it going to be dangerous?”

  “Maybe. Hopefully not.”

  “That’s what you said about the fishing trip, and look how that turned out?” Ruby flashed him a grin. “Alright, I’ll go along for the ride.”

  “Excellent. We’ll leave right after breakfast…if that’s okay with your cats.”

  Ruby followed his gaze over to the hearth, where the two felines lay loafed up beside the fireplace.

  After eggs, sausage, toast, and coffee, Ruby was feeling much better. Her back ached from sleeping on John’s sofa, and her hands were a little sore from the morning chill, but, all things considered, she felt ready to face whatever the day threw at her.

  She changed into fresh clothing, choosing an ankle-length black dress paired with an olive tank. Due to the morning’s chill she slipped a waist-length denim jacket on before joining John on his front porch.