A Paw-sible Theory

“A cat is more intelligent than people believe, and can be taught any crime.”

––Mark Twain

CHAPTER ONE: In a Cat’s Eye

In April of this year, a crime was committed in the historic district of Beachside, a tourist town, not beachside as the name implies, but about three miles inland on the east coast of Florida.

The neighborhood surrounding the old downtown business area, and still in the process of revitalization, is a mix of architectural styles as are the people who live there a mix of young couples with children, as well as middle-aged and older retired folks who have lived there many years.

According to the dictionary definition, my human fits in the middle-age category. As far as I’m concerned, she is whom she has always been: Alyx Hille, five feet three inches tall, brown hair cut in a short, shaggy sort of style, hazel eyes, and a beautiful smile. She shares her home with two quirky female felines and me.

My name is Murfy. I’m also a Felis catus, only different––even though I look and behave like an ordinary longhaired, cream tabby with green eyes. So far, Alyx is the only one who has reason to believe that I’m not––ordinary that is.

On Saturday April 16, casually dressed in tan, cropped pants and a coral top, Alyx listened to the animated weather forecaster on the local news promise the kind of day that brought frostbitten northerners down south at that time of year: clear blue sky, mild temperature, and low humidity. I don’t know why, but she often apologized to visitors when the weather was less than perfect as if providing good weather was her personal responsibility. Strange as it seems, she wasn’t alone in that, others did the same thing.

Alyx reached for the remote, and the promo for what was coming up next caught her attention.

“Incarcerated ten years for a crime he didn’t commit, John Biggs was released from prison at noon yesterday. Listen to what his defense attorney David Hunter had to say.”

“The ugly truth is that we don’t live in a perfect world and for the sake of order, a judicial system is in place that finds, judges and punishes those who commit crimes against society, and because it is an imperfect world, sometimes the system fails. Those responsible for dispensing justice can and do make mistakes, at times allowing the guilty to walk away free and punishing the innocent at other times. This time the system worked and justice is served.”

David Hunter, considered handsome by human standards, looked the part of a successful attorney. The gray highlights at his temples accentuated his good looks, as did the perfect fit of his expensive gray suit.

Alyx turned off the TV in the living room, her favorite room in the house after she painted the walls antique white and added colorful Oriental rugs over the original wood floor. The new patio door, flanked by two tall windows, provided much needed light and a great view of the backyard for all of us.

As she walked past, I did a full body stretch and followed her to the kitchen where there was always a chance for a treat. She poured herself a fresh cup of coffee and carried it to the 1940’s enamel-top table and chairs unearthed in her parents’ basement a few years earlier and the inspiration for the kitchen design. When asked, she said the table was a nostalgic reminder of her mother rolling out piecrusts for the frequent family gatherings that ended with her death, the saw marks on one of the chairs attesting to its previous role as a sawhorse for her father. The lemon-yellow walls reflected the sunlight streaming in from the bank of windows in the breakfast nook. Everyday dishes and cutlery sat on the counter along with the breakfast items––eggs, bacon and pancake mix.

Alyx unfolded the morning paper but didn’t show any interest in reading it.

“What do you think, Murfy?” she asked. “Should I have considered the offer? Will Maggie understand why I reacted so strongly? How do you think Ethan will take my suggestions? Will he listen this time?”

I figured she was probably vocalizing the thoughts meandering across her mind and I went back to the living room, leaving her sipping her coffee, and gazing out the window.

The stalker creeping up behind her had only one thought in mind; the brutal attack was swift, plunging Alyx into an abyss of darkness.