The male shifted to my other hand, bumping it with his head. “Me too. Tail is right?”
I gave him pets too, and no, I had no issue petting two kittens at once. “Your tail is also perfect. I think you’re both splendid, in fact. Now, Clint’s not told you much. You understand that we want one of you to come home with us?”
I received purrs of assent.
“Right, so you also know I’m a police detective? And Clint is trained to help me investigate. So, he goes out into the field with me and works. He tracks down magical smells—”
“Sniffies!” Clint corrected.
“—and chases down leads, and will investigate areas that are either too high up or too confined for me to fit in. He’s quite good at what he does. He wants to teach you how to do the same so you can work with us. And when we’re not working, we have story time, and snuggles, and there’s mice to chase in our neighborhood. And sunny spots to take naps in. I also have friends who come by regularly who will give lots of pets and scratches. How does that sound to you?”
They pulled back, regarding each other steadily. I could practically see the wheels spinning at high speeds. Then they turned to me and said in near perfect unison, “We’ll go.”
Clint bounced in place. “Yes! Both come.”
Jules leaned closer to them from his seat and spoke in his gentle voice. “No, children, only one of you is going. One of you will stay here with the rest of us.”
The kittens turned and regarded him with such transparent disgust that I almost started laughing right then and there. They clearly wondered why he was saying such a stupid thing. Then they turned back to me, ignoring him as if he were air.
“Go with you,” the little girl informed me firmly. “Like Clint. Like you. Both going.”
Jules opened his mouth on another objection, but I lifted a hand, stalling him. The more I observed these two, the more apparent it became that they were a unit. Twins, in many senses, and really, I didn’t think they should be separated. Clint was clearly enamored with both of them, and the adoration seemed to be mutual. I wasn’t sure if they really liked me as much as him, but that was alright. They’d only known me for half an hour. And I didn’t speak their language—not like Clint did.
It might be a bit mad to adopt two at once, but I never claimed sanity to begin with. I cocked a brow at Jules. “I think I better take both.”
Jules regarded the kittens with a bumfuzzled air, as if he had no idea how this had happened. “But children, doesn’t one of you want to stay here? It’s comfortable here. You can have whatever you wish.”
Again, they stoutly ignored him. Even Clint gave him an exasperated look, as if Jules did not have the picture.
I tsked him, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “Jules. Cats choose their owners. Not vice versa. And I think these two like the idea of working. Being pampered house cats does not appeal.”
The male kitten gave me a sage nod, as if I had just spouted words of wisdom.
“But you’re tackling a very serious case tomorrow, right?” Jules regarded us all in worry. “Is this wise?”
Probably not, but how could I tell such cute faces that? I wasn’t that strong. “Life’s boring without a challenge. And we’ll have tonight to run them through the basics. As long as they stick with Clint, I think it’ll be fine.” If not, I would have three other people with me who could help ride herd on them. I wasn’t about to try and leave them at home. Clint loved to work. He loved the kittens too, but he wouldn’t be willing to stay at home with them. I’d skip that argument, thanks.
Jules threw his hands up in defeat. “If it does become a problem, tell me. I’ll come collect them.”
“Okay.” I was alright with having a plan B. We’d likely need it. But for now, Plan A worked fine. “So, first, names. We have a Clint. That means you, my darling little girl, should be Tasha.”
She blinked at me, all golden-eyed curiosity. “Tasha.”
“Yes.” I’d explain to her properly the marvels of why she was named that later, but for now, I wanted to see if she liked it. “Tasha okay by you?”
She preened, her tail flicking. “Tasha.”
“I’ll take that as a yes. That means you, young master, are Phil.”
The too-serious kitten looked back at me thoughtfully, taking my measure with a frank gaze. Then he flicked an ear, which apparently settled the matter. “Phil is good.”
“Excellent.” Jules, obviously, didn’t follow my logic. But Henri could tell him my logic never made sense to anyone in this world. Ah, well. I extended a hand to each kitten. “Up we go, kiddos. We need to go home and pack, and I’m sure you want a chance to explore the place.”
They seemed to think this was a good idea, as they promptly climbed into my hands. I tucked them into the basket I’d bought for this exact purpose, not at all surprised when Clint climbed right in with them. He beamed like a child with five Christmases and a promise to go to the beach. There would be no living with him for the foreseeable future.
I made my goodbyes to Jules, promising him daily updates and measurements so he could chart the kittens’ growth. He looked rather forlorn after being forsaken by his own creations, but cats will do that to you. Nothing more independent than a cat. It was best he learned that lesson early. I only felt marginally guilty as I took everyone home.
With all the dashing about we needed to do, I chose to take a taxi rather than catch a trolley, keeping the basket in my lap in case of sudden braking. Clint lifted his eyes to regard me seriously.
“Jamie. Song.”
I’d seen his list. I knew the exact order he intended to teach the young ’uns things. “Song, huh? Tasha, Phil, your elder wants to teach you how to sing. It’s something he takes a lot of joy in.”
They regarded each other, then me, dubiously. When Jules created any Felix, he loaded a certain amount of knowledge into them. A sort of standard database of information, I guess you could say. It explained why I had to teach Clint how to do things like investigative work, but not other things, like how to open doors, or what animals were. Basically, they possessed knowledge Jules felt they either needed, or he himself was comfortable with.
Singing, apparently, was not something he felt a cat needed. Or at least, if they knew what it was, they didn’t have any idea how to go about it. But if Clint wanted to teach them a song, I was perfectly willing to go along. They’d pick it up anyway while living with me. Inevitable, really.
“Aristocats?” I asked Clint, although why, I don’t know. Stupid question.
Clint launched into song. “Everybody wants to be a cat~”
I joined in with a smile. “Because a cat’s the only cat, that knows where it’s at.”
I dropped my voice to harmonize with Clint’s higher tenor, and I’d never seen kittens’ eyes grow so huge. They were enchanted. Tasha started humming at the chorus, picking up the melody, but softly, as if unsure of herself. Phil just listened intently.
Ending the song, I waited for a reaction. Clint nosed them, beaming. “Another?”
Phil didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
My pad chose that moment to beep and I pulled it out of my bag. The screen showed a message from Henri, concise and to the point: We’re going. Meet me at my parents’ house for dinner.
Okay, I wrote back. It was probably the best idea. We needed to hold a more formal interview with Irvine and get information of timeline, how to contact his siblings, and so forth. Might as well eat and work. And the kittens would get a chance to meet more people. Right now, people needed kitten cuddles. Furbabies helped with grief.
Clint chose another song, and we sang “Somebody to Love” while we rode. The taxi driver shot us many a look via the rearview mirror, oscillating between amusement and curiosity as the songs unfolded. I didn’t bother to explain what I was actually doing or where the extra voices came from.
We made it home and I answered questions as I went about the apartment. Clint took charge of t
hem once we were inside, and I let them roam around and get acquainted with their space while I packed. I honestly wasn’t sure how long this would take, which was typical of cases, but that meant I wasn’t sure what to pack. I erred on the side of over-packing and went for three suits, PJs, and a jogging outfit. I almost left it at that, but then a thought struck.
I gathered the Atwoods were an influential family. If that was the case, odds were I might get sucked into some formal event, and people of that class in society had definite opinions of appropriate attire. I decided it was better to perhaps sneak one dress into my suitcase. Just in case.
There, that would tide me over. And if I had to do laundry while out, so be it.
A few toiletries also went into the bag, along with Clint’s favorite snuggy blanket. When I turned, I realized I had an audience. All three Felixes sat on the bed, watching me pack with cocked heads. I immediately thought of the three monkey statues.
“Is there anything you want me to pack for you?” I asked the kittens. “I have Clint’s favorite blanket, and we’ll take the basket so you have a place to ride comfortably, but anything else? No? Okay, let’s go meet Henri. He’s expecting us at his parents’ house. I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
As I fetched the basket from the front door, I heard Clint instruct the other two seriously, “When you meet people, purr at them. If you purr at them, they like you.”
Everyone, I present to you, the Manipulation of Cats 101.
Jamie messaged me on the way in, so I met her at my parents’ front door, ready to help her juggle the cats so she could greet the Atwoods. Irvine’s sisters, Gwyneth and Ruthe, had joined us not a half hour past, making the journey in to meet with us all. Ruthe, at least, lived in Kingston. Gwyneth did not, being from Jordane. Both women were very upset, and my parents had been speaking with them about matters, offering both advice and support.
I accepted the basket from Jamie as she walked in, giving her a moment to shed outer coat and hat. It had just begun to snow outside, a light dusting, but it meant trouble for us. Snow could obscure or obliterate trace evidence. I could only hope this weather wasn’t in Deems.
“Everyone here?” Jamie asked with a nod of thanks to our butler when he took her things.
“Not quite. Gerring and McSparrin informed me they’ll be here in the next half hour. We’ll need to catch them up. But the other two Atwood children are here.”
“Okay. How are they?”
“Upset, and rightly so. But tell me about this basket first. It feels oddly heavy for one kitten.”
“Oh, it’s more than one kitten,” she assured me dryly. Lifting the lid, she revealed the contents.
I blinked down at the three sets of eyes staring up at me. Clint was no surprise, considering the weight. I assumed him to be inside. But the pure black kitten, and the one with white on its chest and toes—that I did not expect. They looked like Clint, but not, at the same time. Smaller, fuzzier, and with an astonishing level of adorableness Clint had not possessed. Or was this baby magic influencing my opinion?
“Guys, this is Henri. He’s my partner, but he’s also our neighbor. He lives on the floor below us. You’ll see him a lot. Henri, the pure black girl is Tasha, and her brother is Phil. They both insisted on coming to live with us. And working. They’re very keen on working.”
Two kittens? On top of a very high-profile murder case? Oh dear. Still, I had to assume Jamie knew what she was getting into. And if not, as always, I was perfectly willing to help her along. I gave them both a smile and lowered one hand into the basket so they could catch my scent. Clint had explained to me how important scent was, and I wanted them to know me well. “Hello.”
They sniffed curiously. Tasha gave me a light lick with a slightly rough tongue, the motion quick. Tasting me, eh?
“Hello,” Phil returned in a high-pitched voice. “You smell like magic.”
“I do.” So, he knew enough to detect that readily? Then Felix had instilled the same knowledge in them as he had in Clint. Good, that made things easier. “I’m a Magical Examiner with the police. You’ll work with me often in tracking down magic.”
This pleased him, or at least, he donned the same content look Clint wore when all was right in his world. They really were keen on working, weren’t they?
My mother chose that moment to step out. When she caught sight of the basket and Clint’s head poking out of it, she said, “There you are. Clint, were you cold on the way in? I don’t see how a basket—oh deities, how adorable! Jamie, what in heaven’s name are these two? They look like mini Clints!”
“That’s precisely what they are, in a way.” Jamie urged her forward so she could see properly. “Ophelia, this is Tasha and Phil. They are Felix kittens. They’ll eventually reach Clint’s size, but they’re still growing.”
Quite accustomed to Clint, she reached in and gave them pets immediately, drawing purrs out of both. “How precious. Both of you, come with me. Let me introduce you to people. That’s right, come into my hands. Now, I’m Henri’s mother. Everyone, come meet Tasha and Phil!”
“Who and who?” my father called back, perplexed.
Shaking her head, Jamie hefted Clint into her arms and followed. “I should have known she’d latch onto them. Ophelia, slow down!”
Too late.
Several minutes of introduction followed. Everyone was taken by the cuteness of the kittens, who seemed equally intrigued by all these people they hadn’t met yet. It took a few rounds before we managed to settle. The cats all found a lap and someone to pet them.
Brook, our family butler, was both intrigued by the creatures and yet agitated by them as well. Catching my eye, he closed in and murmured, “I don’t know how to care for such small ones, sir. Clint only ever asks for clean water and a soft place to lay down. But surely little ones need milk?”
“No, treat them precisely as you would Clint,” I instructed. “They’re small in body but still magical constructs. And they possess much of the knowledge and intelligence as Clint. They were fashioned in the same way.”
“Ah. Thank you, sir, that’s helpful. I’m not sure how to settle them for dinner, however.”
Brook was ever the type to stand on formality. “Set out clean bowls of water nearby. I wouldn’t insist upon dinner, though. Irvine, for one, has a nervous stomach, and I doubt he’ll be able to eat under these circumstances.”
Looking about the room, I think Brook also saw the kittens for what they were—a distraction. This mood wouldn’t last long. With grief weighing on them, no distraction could possibly compete for more than a few minutes.
Mother found a way to chivvy people up and into the dining room, where the first course was already laid out. We settled around the table, Jamie bringing in the basket so the kittens could curl up next to her chair and rest there. It settled Brook as well, now that he had a designated place to put them.
My poor mother tried to get a conversation going, but it mostly failed. Jamie engaged her the most while everyone else prodded at their food and failed to eat much more than a few bites. The atmosphere felt quite heavy, and I found it a relief when we were finally able to escape the room and return to the drawing room.
In our absence, someone had turned on the electric lights and stoked the fire. All three Atwood children headed straight to the fireplace, as if needing the heat. Or perhaps the comfort that heat brought. My parents lingered at the table with Jamie, no doubt asking many a question too indelicate to voice in front of the Atwoods.
Silence reigned in the room for some time. I found the right moment to take Gwyneth aside. Of the three siblings, she was the most level-headed during a crisis, and I hoped she could give us some answers.
With the fair skin of her mother and the red hair of her father, her skin sported several blotches from all the crying. She had stopped crying for now, but tears lingered around her eyes and in the high color of her cheeks. The mourning black made her look even more frail and sallow.
I sat with her in the far corner of the drawing room, on the window seat overlooking the street, and held one of her hands in mine. “Gwyneth, I am appalled at what has happened. You can rest assured I will investigate this until we know who was responsible.”
She nodded, her breath shaking. “Thank you, Henri. You have no idea how much it means to all of us that you’ve dropped everything in order to help. When we first spoke to the police in Deems, they were so—appalling, I think is the word. I was certainly appalled at their careless words and irresponsible attitudes. We didn’t know where to turn, but we couldn’t let things be. Our parents were murdered. That demands justice. Irvine thought of you, and we weren’t sure what could be done, but we didn’t know where else to turn. So, thank you.”
“I’m just as appalled, I assure you.” I kept my tone gentle, soft. She’d been through too much already. Salt had been poured into an open wound. I had no desire to rub it in further. “You’ve not met them yet, but we have two junior colleagues also very keen on the case. They’re both being mentored by Jamie, and she is an excellent teacher. Between the four of us—seven if you include the Felixes—we’ll find the answer.”
Gwyneth gave a nod and drew in a large breath, visibly gaining control of her emotions. “I’m quite surprised by her, you know. One hears so many things about the Shinigami Detective. I always wondered what she was really like.”
“Ruthlessly intelligent. Charming. Capable. She will move the world for you if you need it moved. I am ever surprised and flattered she chose me as her partner.” I tried not to sound utterly besotted, but it was hard when speaking of the woman most dear to me. Thankfully, I was saved by a set of paws tapping at my leg. Looking down, I discovered Phil standing next to my shoe, attempting to gain my attention. “Yes, Phil?”
“Work?” he asked with large, liquid eyes.
Jules Felix had apparently severely miscalculated with these two. They were very inquisitive, and the idea of sitting about getting pets only satisfied them for a few minutes. “Yes, we need to work. Go and fetch the others so we can get the particulars down.”
Three Charms for Murder (The Case Files of Henri Davenforth Book 5) Page 4