by Nic Saint
“I don’t know,” said Gran. “It came from your grandson’s room.”
“Can you please check? I’ve been worried sick about those two. I know they haven’t told me everything, and I can’t help feeling something is going on.”
“You’re right,” said Gran. “Someone’s been trying to kill Tessa.”
“I knew it!” said the Queen. “Vesta, you have to stop them!”
“Oh, don’t worry, Lizzie, I will,” said Gran as she rushed to the door of Dante and Tessa’s room.
She burst inside, followed by Dooley and me. The sight that met our eyes was shocking to say the least: Tessa’s cousin Nesbit was aiming a gun at Tessa, while Dante stood in a corner of the room, his hands behind his head.
Chapter 34
“Come on in,” said Nesbit, turning the gun to cover Gran now.
“Oh, dear,” I could hear the Queen say. Nesbit hadn’t heard, though.
Gran held up her hands, aiming the phone at Nesbit, so the Queen had a first-row seat to the proceedings. Dooley and I were on the floor, and I don’t think the security man even noticed us. Isn’t that often the case, though?
“Close the door behind you, that’s a nice old lady,” said the guy.
Gran kicked the door closed with such force the guy winced.
“If you don’t want the kid to get it, you’ll do exactly as I say,” he said, aiming the gun at Silvy now. Tessa protectively cradled the child in her arms, eliciting a grimace from her cousin.
“How could you?” she asked. “You’re family!”
“I could ask you the same thing. Ever since you married this ginger bozo you haven’t exactly shared the wealth, have you? You’re living in luxury, enjoying carrot top’s fortune while the rest of your family has to struggle to make ends meet.”
“I gave you a job.”
“Yeah, working as your messenger boy,” he scoffed. “You’re a big disappointment to all of us, Tessa. But then I should have known. You always were as tightfisted and self-centered as your mother.”
If looks could kill, the guy would have been dead.
“You’re making a big mistake,” said Dante.
“No, I’m finally making my connection to Tessa pay off.”
“How is my death going to pay off for you?” she asked.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“He’s working with Otis Robbins,” said Gran. “The two of them are in this together.”
“Aren’t you the smartest one in the room!” said the guy. “Yeah, Otis and I met in the pub late one night and got to talking. We soon discovered we shared a mutual hobby: hating on Tessa. He’d been snubbed by her, when he asked for an exclusive interview, and so had I. So after a couple of pints of lager he came up with a brilliant idea: he was going to write a book revealing all of Tess’s deepest, darkest secrets and he wanted me to provide the material.
“You know, the kind of stuff only a loving cousin who’s known Tessa all her life would know about. And then I did him one better: I said the best way to guarantee the book’s success was for its subject to die. He thought I was joking but I wasn’t. It’s the only way for her to pay for the neglect and the hardship she’s caused us all. So we made a pact, only half in jest: I would kill Tessa and he would write his tell-all book and we’d split the proceeds fifty-fifty.”
“That’s horrible, Nesbit,” said Tessa, shaking her head.
“I think it’s pretty clever. And I’m sure the rest of the family will agree.”
“Are they in on this, too?”
“Nope. Just me. I guess that makes me the smart one, huh?”
“I think it makes you an asshat,” said Gran.
Nesbit grinned. “You got a potty mouth, granny.”
“You ain’t heard nothing yet, sonny boy. Now put down that gun.”
“Not a chance.” He switched the gun to cover Dante. “So who wants to go first? Prince Charming over there? Or the People’s Princess?”
“You’re going to make it look like a murder-suicide, aren’t you?” said Gran.
“Boom! The lady is on fire!”
“So how are you going to explain about me?”
“Collateral damage. When Dante went nuts and decided to kill his wife, his baby and turn the gun on himself, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Noooo!” Tessa cried, aghast when the depravity of her cousin came home to her.
“Don’t do this,” Dante growled, and took a step towards Nesbit.
“Not so fast, Prince. Back off!”
I had a feeling that the scenario didn’t just look bleak for the humans in the room, but for Dooley and me, too. If this man didn’t blink at taking four human lives, he would mind even less about two cats who just happened to be on the scene. If he noticed us, of course, which until then he still hadn’t.
The thing is, cats aren’t dogs. We don’t have the superlative biting power in our maws the way some dogs do. One thing we do have are very sharp claws and some very sharp teeth. And hey, we don’t mind using them. We stem from the jungle cat, you see, and I wasn’t going to let this loser murder my precious human just because he wanted to make a quick buck.
So while the guy was gabbing away as if there was no tomorrow, Dooley and I locked eyes. We were going to teach this little piggy a lesson he wouldn’t forget. Only one thing gave me pause: he was holding that gun. And if we launched ourselves at him he would probably fire off a shot. Chances were he was going to hit someone in that room. And we couldn’t very well have that.
And then, as if she’d read my mind, suddenly the voice of the Queen boomed through the room, imperious and decisive.
“Nesbit Seller, put down that gun at once!”
“What the hell?!” said the guy, looking as if he’d just heard a ghost.
“This is your Queen speaking,” said the Queen, and when Gran turned the phone so the guy could see the Queen’s face, his jaw dropped a few inches.
And so did the gun…
“Now, Dooley!” I cried, and we both launched ourselves at the man. I went for the face while Dooley went for the man’s gun hand. We landed simultaneously and while I clung to the man’s visage, digging my claws in while I hissed up a storm, Dooley sank his teeth into the man’s hand.
I can assure you—it was not pretty. The man shrieked like a piglet.
The gun must have dropped from his hand, for he tried to wrench us off with both hands. But cats are like the Canadian Mounties. We always get our man! And we don’t let go, no matter what.
“Max, Dooley,” suddenly a soft voice spoke.
It was the most wondrous sound in the world. The sound of my human.
“You can let go now,” said Odelia.
And so we did.
Epilogue
A week after the harrowing time we’d lived through at Newtmore Cottage, we were in Scotland, enjoying a leisurely time at Balmoral Castle, the Queen’s favorite getaway.
The royal Numero Uno had invited us all up there to recover from the shock of the recent events. Tessa and Dante were there, along with Angela. Jeremy and Jennie had also arrived, with the kids, and the Queen had organized an actual feast in her backyard, complete with a grill for one of the guests of honor: none other than Tex, who’d been flown in on the Queen’s private jet with Marge and Alec. In other words: the gang was together again.
Tex, aided and abetted by one of the Queen’s very own chefs, was flipping burgers on the grill, while the rest of the family had put its feet under the table. The Queen—or Lizzie to us—was enjoying some leisurely time with her kids, grandkids and great-grandkids, while the rest enjoyed the great food.
Meanwhile, a separate table had been set up for the pets, which comprised Dooley and me, Harriet and Brutus, Fluffy, of course, and the Queen’s corgis, who had since become a little less frosty about the prospect of breathing the same air as cats. Though they still didn’t seem entirely happy about sitting at the same table with us.
“
So is it true you guys attacked the bad man?” asked Sweetie.
“That’s right,” I said. “I went for the face and Dooley went for his gun.”
“That’s the way to do it,” growled Fräulein, punching the air with her paw.
On the table in front of us the most delicious food had been set out. Liver pâté, peanut butter and bacon treats, organic chicken strips, cat donuts with bacon sprinkles and lots and lots more. A regular royal feast!
“We couldn’t have done it without you, though,” I said.
“The moment I saw that guy, I said, that’s the kidnapper!” Molly cried.
“But why did the Queen suddenly decide to get on the phone with Tessa?” asked Harriet. “That’s what I don’t understand.”
“She must have realized that what we were yapping about was significant,” said Sweetie. “And she wanted to talk to a fellow dog person.”
“The Queen understands us,” said Fräulein. “I don’t know how she does it, but it’s true.”
“You mean the Queen can talk to her pets, like our humans can?” asked Dooley.
“I’m not absolutely certain, but she is very intuitive. Like when I fell through that hole in the ice last winter. She knew something was wrong, and she’d fished me out of that pond before I was going down for the third time.”
“The Queen is amazing,” Sweetie confirmed. “She is. She loves all her animals, from her Shetland ponies to her horses to her corgis to the bagpipes that wake her up every morning.”
“Bagpipes are an instrument, not an animal,” Fräulein pointed out.
“But she loves her subjects more, right?” said Harriet.
“The three corgis laughed. “I wouldn’t be too sure!” said Fräulein.
“Well, I’m glad it’s all over,” said Fluffy. “The tension was killing me. It’s no fun knowing that there’s someone out there trying to kill your mistress.”
“I can only imagine,” said Fräulein, shaking her head. “That must have been terrible for you.”
“It was,” confirmed Fluffy. “And if it hadn’t been for these hero cats, the bad guys would have succeeded, and I’d be an orphan now.”
The dogs all stared at us, then Sweetie said, holding up a piece of chicken, “I think it’s high time we salute these brave cats.”
All paws went up, and then Fräulein said, “From now on we declare you honorary dogs.”
I grimaced. It’s not a big honor to be an honorary dog, I meant to say. But I’m sure they meant well, so we all smiled and thanked them profusely.
Tessa’s cousin had been arrested, though later we were told he needed stitches, which actually gave me a twinge of pride. His associate Otis Robbins had also been arrested, and both men were going away for a long time, to a place called Belmarsh, which didn’t have the same ring to it as the Tower.
The Queen had come down in person that night, without her corgis, and made Tessa and Dante promise that next time something like this happened, they had to tell her immediately, and not keep anything from her ever again.
She’d also invited us up to Balmoral, and told Gran she might not be able to become Queen of America, but she was always welcome to visit so they could chat over tea. I’d never seen Gran so over the moon as in that moment.
We spent a couple of days in London, seeing the sights, or at least the humans did, and then we all traveled down to Scotland on the Queen’s personal train—yes, the Queen has her own private train!—so here we were.
Gran wandered over to our table. “Now isn’t this the life?” she said with a wistful sigh. We were leaving for Hampton Cove next week, and I could tell she would have preferred to stick around for a couple of weeks more.
“It’s pretty sweet,” I agreed.
“Lizzie is going to make me a dame,” said Gran. “Can you believe it? Dame Vesta Muffin. Wait till I tell my friends back home. Wait till I tell Scarlett!”
Scarlett Canyon is Gran’s nemesis. And the fact that she could upstage her probably meant more to Gran than all possible royal honors combined.
Odelia and Chase also wandered over, accompanied by Marge, Tex and Uncle Alec.
“You guys did great,” said Odelia, not for the first time. “And so did you,” she said as she held up her glass in a salute to the corgis.
“Aw,” said Sweetie, in an uncharacteristic display of modesty.
“See?” said Gran. “The Queen of England has her corgis, the Queen of America has her cats, and together they make history.”
A voice startled Gran. “Did I hear my name?” the Queen asked.
“I was just saying how one can tell a real queen from a fake one by the way she communicates with her pets,” said Gran.
The Queen smiled. “It’s true! Like the night we caught that nasty Otis Robbins. The moment that horrid man filled the screen with his horrible visage, Sweetie, Fräulein and Molly told me immediately. ‘That’s the one!’ they said. ‘That’s the man who kidnapped us!’ So naturally the first thought that popped into my head was that I had to warn dear Tessa. Luckily you were there to pick up the phone and the rest, as they say, is history!”
“Is this going to be in the history books?” asked Tex, curious.
“I doubt it,” said the Queen. “No one would believe it. And the ones that do would think their precious monarch had gone a little soft in the head.”
“But... you can actually talk to your dogs?” asked Chase.
The Queen smiled enigmatically. “Is that so hard to believe?” she said, and walked off.
Stunned, the others all stared after her.
“I knew it,” said Gran. “I just knew it! And that’s why I need to be crowned Queen of America!”
“Yeah, that’ll happen,” said Uncle Alec.
“Now don’t be a Negative Ned, Alec,” said Gran. “It will happen because I want it to happen.”
“It would definitely be an improvement,” said Marge.
Tex raised both eyebrows. He clearly wasn’t in agreement.
“Would that mean you have to move to Washington?” asked Dooley.
“Of course. I’d have to move into the White House. You’ll all be invited to stay, of course. I’ll make sure there’s plenty of space for the whole family.”
Tex was smiling now, the prospect of his mother-in-law finally moving out of the house doing much to warm him to the prospect of calling her Queen.
“I would like to live in the White House,” said Harriet. “And be First Cat.”
“I think I’d be First Cat, though,” said Brutus. “I am the most handsome.”
“Obviously the First Cat would be the prettiest cat,” said Harriet with a laugh. “In other words: me.”
“I think the First Cat should be a hero,” said Brutus. “Someone like me.”
“And I think the First Cat should look good on Instagram.”
“The First Cat should be butch. An inspiration to all the cats in America.”
“Oh, give me a break,” said Harriet. “You? An inspiration? As if.”
“Oh, dear,” said Marge. “Here we go again.”
“What are they talking about?” asked Chase.
“They’re arguing about who gets to be First Cat once Gran becomes America’s queen,” said Odelia.
They all laughed, even though for Brutus and Harriet it was clearly no laughing matter.
“You both get to be First Cats,” said Gran. “We’ll do it in rotation.”
Tessa and Dante now joined us, Tessa carrying the baby. “Having a good time?” said Tessa with a smile.
“A great time, thanks,” said Odelia gratefully.
“I can’t thank you guys enough. I’ll never forget this.”
“The queen is giving us all honorary KBEs,” said Odelia. “Which is so great.”
“Yeah, I asked her,” said Dante. “No one deserves it more than you.”
‘Wait, you’re all going to be dames and knights?” asked Gran, appalled.
Odelia and Chase nodded. �
�Yup,” said Angela. “I’m going to be a dame, too. Can you imagine? When I tell my friends they won’t believe me.”
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Gran said, shaking her fist.
And as the humans drifted off to scoop some more food onto their plates, Dooley said, “Do you think they’ll make us dames and knights too, Max?”
“I doubt it,” I said. “That seems to be a thing for humans only.”
“She’ll do you one better,” said Fräulein.
“Yeah, she told us she’ll give you all PBEs,” said Sweetie.
“What’s a PBE?” I asked.
“Pet of the Order of the British Empire,” Fräulein explained. “It’s a secret society the Queen launched shortly after her coronation. Only the bravest pets are members. And all of her corgis, of course. Now you’ll be inducted, too.”
Sweetie gave us a warm smile. “You know what? You’ve earned it—all of you.”
“Did you hear that, Max?” said Dooley. “We’re going to be knighted!”
“Well, congratulations, Sir Dooley,” I said.
“Why, thank you, Sir Max,” he said.
It certainly took the sting out of being kicked out of cat choir. Shanille might even take me back now. She was a sucker for all things royal.
“First Cat and a knight,” Brutus grunted. “Sweet.”
Harriet produced a feeble whimper. We all looked at her. She was biting her lip, clearly worried about something.
“Aren’t you happy, Harriet?” I asked. “This is a huge honor.”
She gave me an apologetic smile. “I just wonder where they’ll pin the badge and ribbon.”
Ouch!
THE END
Thanks for reading! If you liked this book, please share the fun by leaving a review!
And if you want to know when a new Nic Saint book comes out, sign up for our mailing list HERE.
Excerpt from A Game of Dons (The Mysteries of Bell & Whitehouse 10)
Chapter One
Virgil Scattering had been walking for what felt like hours, and frankly he was starting to get a little tired. He might be a cop but that didn’t mean he was a superhero. Then again, if he really was a superhero, he could have flown to his destination. Or he could have turned himself into a giant version of himself and taken one step to get where he was going, like Ant-Man. Unfortunately he wasn’t Ant-Man but merely a humble human flatfoot, and therefore had to be content with using the power vested in his lower limbs.