Cat Trick

I sat back on my heels and looked around. Owen had flung catnip chicken bits all over the kitchen, so why was I the one doing the vacuuming and coaxing him back into a good mood? In my next life, I was going to be the cat, I decided as I got to my feet.

Thirty minutes later, the kitchen was more or less cleaned up and I was at the table with a plate of spaghetti. Hercules was next to my chair, watching me eat and probably hoping I’d drop a meatball, while Owen was sprawled under the other chair, making a halfhearted effort to wash his face. I’d already told them what I’d learned at the café. Owen’s ears had perked up when I’d shared Claire’s story about Liam arguing with Mike Glazer out on the street in front of the diner, but I suspected that was mostly because I’d also mentioned Maggie’s name.

I leaned sideways in my chair and looked down at both of them. “We have company coming after supper.”

Owen immediately sat up, looked around and started washing his face in earnest. Hercules looked at his brother and then he looked at me. In Owen’s kitty mind, the word “company” meant one person: Maggie.

“Yes, I know what he’s thinking and he’s wrong,” I said quietly to Herc. “Should we tell him, or wait until he gets cleaned up?”

He stared at his feet, whiskers twitching, almost as though he were considering my question. I waited, giving him time to think—just in case he really was; then he meowed softly.

“Okay,” I said. I tapped my fingers on the edge of the table to get Owen’s attention. He looked over at me, one paw raised in the air. “Not Maggie,” I said, shaking my head. He took one more pass at his face, dropped his paw and stretched back out on the floor with a sigh.

Hercules head-butted my leg and meowed, his way of asking, “So who is it?”

I reached down and scratched the top of his head. “Harrison Taylor’s daughter, Elizabeth, and her friend will be here in a little while. They want to meet the two of you.”

Hercules made a satisfied rumble in his throat, tilting his head so I’d scratch behind his ear. Owen, meanwhile, made a show of stretching, sitting up and starting on his face again as though that had been his intention all along.

I picked up my fork and speared a meatball. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Herc start to wash his own face.

* * *

I’d just finished the dishes when I heard a knock on the porch door. The boys were sitting side by side next to the end of the table. Faces washed and paws spotless, they were the poster children for cat adoption. “Very nice,” I said approvingly as I went to answer the door.

Elizabeth smiled when she saw me. “Hi, Kathleen,” she said. “This is my friend Wren. I think you met at the library.”

“Yes, we did.” I smiled. “Hi, Wren. Come in, please. The cats are in the kitchen.”

Wren Magnusson gave me a small smile. She looked tired. There were dark smudges under her eyes, and I noticed that she kept running her thumb back and forth along the side of her index finger.

“Thank you for letting us come and see them,” Elizabeth said, stepping into the porch. “I hope Harry didn’t put you on the spot.”

“He didn’t,” I said. “It’s not a big deal. Harry’s come through for me more than once. And your father is one of my favorite people.”

She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, her expression still serious. “Harrison said that he never would have found me if it hadn’t been for you.”

I ducked my head, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “All I did was find a few papers.”

She pressed her lips together before speaking. “He said it was a lot more than that. He said that you helped the police figure out who killed my birth mother.” She stumbled a little over the word “mother.” “And you were almost caught in an explosion.” She swallowed. “I, uh, don’t know how to thank you.”

I hesitated and then lightly touched her shoulder. “You just did,” I said. “And I have all the thanks I’m ever going to need just seeing how happy finding you has made Harrison.”

She nodded.

We stepped into the kitchen. Owen and Hercules hadn’t moved. They looked curiously at the two young women. Wren immediately looked at me. “Liz said we can’t pet them, but is it okay if I get a little closer?”

“Go ahead,” I said.

Both cats were watching her intently.

Wren stopped about three feet away from them and dropped down to her knees.