Purrfect Secret

Chapter 29

The next morning, Odelia was awakened by the smell of duck dung. She grimaced as she blinked against the sunlight streaming in through the curtains. The first thing she saw were five pairs of cat’s eyes staring back at her. It appeared that overnight a regular clowder of cats had convened at the foot of her bed, and gradually, as dawn approached, they’d moved up in the direction of her pillow and now they were practically surrounding her.

Max had placed his paws on her chest, and was breathing heavily. Dooley was still at the foot of the bed, and seemed puzzled why he was the one left behind. Harriet had draped herself across the pillow Chase used when he slept over. Brutus was scowling at her from under her armpit. And Milo had somehow managed to squeeze himself between the headboard and the pillow and was like an oversized pair of earmuffs now, or a hat.

“Hey, you guys,” she said as she yawned and tried to stretch. “Could you… move over a scooch? I need to get up.”

But the cats weren’t budging. If anything, she had the impression they were eyeing each other as much as they were eyeing her. Like the showdown at the O.K. Corral.

“I’ve got a question for you, Odelia,” said Brutus now.

“Shoot,” she said, hoping they’d get this over with soon.

“Who’s your favorite?”

Uh-oh. “My favorite what? Movie? I really like Frozen.”

But he was not to be distracted. “Who’s your favorite cat?”

“I don’t have a favorite, Brutus. I love all you guys the same.”

“That’s scientifically impossible,” said Milo. “The human mind likes to make sense of the world by turning it into a perfectly ordered set of lists. Favorite foods. Favorite socks. Best boyfriends. Best kisses. You get the drift. So you must have a favorite cat, Odelia.”

“Well, I don’t, Milo. Now can you move? I want to get up.”

“Max is your favorite, isn’t he?” Brutus insisted.

“Oh, Brutus,” Harriet snapped. “Not again with this nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense when it’s true! Nobody blames you, Odelia,” Brutus continued. “Max is, after all, your cat. Dooley is Grandma’s, Harriet is Marge’s, I’m Chase’s, and Milo is this Aloisia person’s. So it stands to reason you would like Max the mostest.”

“That’s not even a word,” said Max.

“Yes, it is! And you be quiet, Max. I don’t want you to influence Odelia.”

They were all staring at her so intently it was slightly disconcerting. Something was going on here—she could feel it—but she couldn’t exactly put her finger on it. She had to admit that there was some truth to what Brutus was saying. She did like Max the most. And this probably was because he was hers and had been with her the longest. But that didn’t mean she didn’t love the others. She loved all of her cats, though right now they were scaring her a little. “Look, the human mind may work like you say it does, Milo, but my mind doesn’t.”

“It has to,” said Milo. “You’re human, so you have a human mind.”

“I don’t care, all right?” she said, now dislodging the cats. “I like all of you guys. I don’t have a favorite and that’s that.” A little white lie but she didn’t think cats could read minds. Or could they? Brutus was trying his best to do just that. But finally he relented.

“I believe you,” he announced seriously.

She laughed. “I’m glad you do. Now are you going to help me catch a killer today or are you going to poop all over the house like you did yesterday?”

“That was Dooley,” said Brutus immediately.

“But only because I’ve got worms!” Dooley cried.

Yep. Something was going on with her cats, but right now she had a killer to catch—and a grandmother and a father to reconcile—and an article on President Wilcox to write.

When she got downstairs, Gran was digging holes in the backyard with such a fervor she reminded Odelia of a gang of moles. She walked to the door. “Gran? What’s going on?”

Gran looked up with a resolute expression on her face. “I’m building a mausoleum.”

“A what?”

“Your father has decided to send me to an early grave so I’m building a mausoleum. And I hope he’ll spend the rest of his life staring at my tomb and remembering he was the one who put me there!”

And with these words, she dug her spade into the ground and returned to her grim endeavor.

Shaking her head, Odelia set foot for the kitchen. She needed coffee. Lots of it.