Cat In A Topaz Tango

“To the Cloaked Conjuror, mainly, now that he’s more accessible,” Molina answered, “but that’s a given. There’s also that national concern that the Barbie Doll Killer has been haunting teen reality TV auditions again. This dance show does have a junior contestant level.” She nodded at EK in the backseat.

Rafi frowned as he watched the traffic ahead. “The captain know about the mutilated Barbie doll outside Mariah’s window?”

Temple’s eyes and ears widened as Molina nodded. “Alch told him. The place will be crawling with undercover and uniformed cops.

“That’s awful,” Temple said. “Matt really, really didn’t want to be one of the adult contestants,” she said, “but I encouraged him to do it. I’m the PR expert, after all. I said it would be great exposure for him.”

But not to a murderous crackpot after a famous magician or a teenage girl or a dancing celeb.

Nobody had an answer to that . . . or to the stricken tone in her voice, not even Midnight Louie.

Temple stroked Louie as she held him close in the big tote bag.

Now he was part of this rolling thunder bizarre road show too.

She didn’t think he’d be an easy rider at this purse pussycat thing, but he needed to appear docile for the crowds and the cameras.

“Louie,” she whispered in his perked black ear with the shell-pink interior, “you are a star, just like Zoe Chloe Ozone. They had footage of you all over that Teen Queen reality TV Web site. This isn’t going to be much different than our outing to New York for that cat food commercial assignment, except you’re going to have to put up with masquerading as a pet being carted around in a celebrity’s tote bag. I know this is a big comedown for you, but please behave. We are getting a free high-roller suite out of the deal and you and I get dibs on the biggest and best bed.”

Thinking about the suite’s “bedroom assignment” made Temple give a little shudder. Molina had said the captain had assured her Mariah and EK would be safe bunking with the other two junior dancers and their mothers in the heavily protected junior suite.

“Raphael” and “Carmina” would have bedrooms in Zoe Chloe Ozone’s fancy high-roller suite too. At least Temple didn’t have to worry about hanky-panky in the night.

Domestic violence, maybe, but not illicit sex.

Lions, and tigers, and angry ex-lovers, oh my!

With only one big housecat to monitor them all, one alley cat to do the time and fend off crime.

Midnight Louie.

Celebrity Is the

Cat’s Pajamas

I am not surprised to hear that my svelte ebony image is receiving major online attention.

While I usually shrink from the spotlight during my investigations, I have as much or more star potential than any human around.

Until I was falsely accused of irresponsible littering with the Divine Yvette, I had a nice national TV pitch–cat career going for À La Cat and its healthful food product line, Free-to-Be-Feline.

Those were the days! Being flown to New York City. Roaming the city sidewalks during the well-lit Christmas season.

Getting “well-lit” myself once in the service of busting out of jail. Being the toast of Manhattan. (Well, sometimes that was closer to being toast, period.).

Solving the usual murder. Watching my Miss Temple whisked off by a commanding Mr. Max for a night of sumptuous sin offstage. Darn!

(Those intrigued by the above reminiscences should consult Cat in a Golden Garland, my only case occurring outside of Las Vegas. I believe PBS is considering offering it as a perk along with a golden oldie doo-wop promotion, but you will have to check with my agents about the progress on that. I have been completely unable to reach them lately.)

In sum, I do have potent performing genes, even if they are no longer reproducible, and I will do my best to impersonate a big, lazy, cuddly pussycat for the Excess Hollywood cameras sure to be at the dance competition finals.

I am also well aware that I am the key undercover operative in this funky little scam. Hotels have been my business since I started out as house detective at the Crystal Phoenix Hotel and Casino when it was being renovated from the old Joshua Tree.

You talk Vegas hotel, and you talk Midnight Louie. I know the layout, the players, the personnel.

If there is anything to these death threats at the dance show, whether against someone as big in this town as the Cloaked Conjuror or as petite as young Ekaterina from Chechnya, I will ferret out the villain and have him or her waltzing right into the Nevada prison system.

Ta-da!

Pool Shark

After lunch break that day at the huge buffet table the hotel provided in the backstage area, Matt returned to his assigned rehearsal room.

It was empty, but Tatyana had been there. Matt winced at seeing his namesake on the rehearsal-room floor, a padded mat.