Chapter 3
3
CARSON
“ W hat is this?” I hold my hands up as a cat jumps into my lap. She’s a fluffy white thing with just the smallest hint of blood in her whiskers.
“A terror.” Mrs. Farrol sniffs, her gaze on the floor where the mouse disappeared under some furniture. “That’s what.”
“Oh, she likes you.” May scratches the cat behind its ears.
It starts purring and settles more fully onto my lap.
“Down,” I tell it. “Get down.”
It digs its claws lightly into my leg, spearing my pants and snuggling low, its green eyes slightly squinty.
“No, he’s just not used to you, that’s all.” May keeps petting it. “You’re a pretty girl. Such a pretty girl.”
“Can you get it off me?” I suspect it might bite me if I try to scoot it away.
“No.” May’s voice goes a little higher as she speaks sweetly to the cat. “This little princess is happy right where she is. She’s the OG princess, aren’t you, darling?”
“Tell that hussy she needs to spill on what happened to my darling baby. Did she have something to do with his disappearance?” Mrs. Farrol leans forward, her gaze narrowing. “Did she lead him astray?”
May kneels in front of me, her hands still on the cat.
Heat swirls in my gut at the way she’s settled before me, her hands dangerously close, brushing against my lap. Fuck, my mind shouldn’t have gone there because I feel my blood shifting southward. The last thing I need is to get hard with a cat in my lap and this delicious woman kneeling at my feet.
“Let’s talk, sweetness.” May looks into the cat’s eyes and goes silent and still.
“What–”
“Shhh.” Mrs. Farrol waves a hand at me.
I snap my mouth closed. What the fuck is happening?
May nods a few times, then looks puzzled, a small wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. Then she smiles big and giggles. The noises she makes are only giving me more difficulties in the cock department. Shit. How am I supposed to handle this? She’s gorgeous, fucking shining so brightly that I can’t look away, and she’s at eye-level with my hardening dick.
“Mmm.” She nods again. “I get that.”
Why is she pretending she’s having a conversation? Is this some sort of collective insanity?
Then her gaze rises to mine, her eyes wide, her cheeks going bright pink.
“What?” I ask gruffly.
“Um, nothing.” She quickly looks away, then stands.
The cat gets up and does a simple turn around in my lap, settling down again closer to my knees. Thank God. My cock isn’t calming down, and I definitely don’t want the cat on it.
“What did the tart say?” Mrs. Farrol asks sharply.
“What?” I keep my hands away from the cat even though she’s looking up at me now, the purr even louder. “You mean the cat?”
Mrs. Farrol rolls her eyes. “Yes. Her.”
“Cats don’t talk, Mrs. Farrol.” I shouldn’t have to say it, but from the expectant look on Mrs. Farrol’s face, I feel like it bears reiterating. “She’s a cat. I came here to find a missing person . That was the job. Instead, I find your pet gone, a cat who won’t get off me, and–” I turn to look at May. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen is what comes to mind next, but instead, I just swallow it down.
“May is a pet communicator. The best one in the country, if not the world,” Mrs. Farrol says. “I’ve spared no expense in bringing her here to find my missing baby. You two will work together on this case, and when you return my little prince to me, you will be paid handsomely.”
“We’ll work together,” May says quickly, then looks at me. “Won’t we?” There’s hope in her tone and in her eyes.
I should dump the cat on the floor and storm out. I’m a professional. Ex-FBI. I’ve solved some of the most difficult and harrowing missing persons and fugitives from justice cases the government has ever seen. I shouldn’t be wasting my time on this rich lady’s runaway feline. But when May looks at me like this, I find myself nodding. I find myself saying, “Yes, we’ll work together.”
May relaxes a little, a smile on her lips that’s just for me. My chest goes warm, my fingers tingling at the tips, and I could swear an entire jar of butterflies pops open in my stomach. God, she’s gorgeous. Sweet and so fucking perfect.
“Glad that’s cleared up. Now out with it.” Mrs. Farrol focuses on May. “What does the hussy know?”
“She definitely has opinions about the house and the grounds.” May clears her throat and looks away, hiding something, or perhaps not wanting to tell everything that’s on her mind. “She also might be nursing a small urinary tract infection. I think it would be best if she comes with me. I can take her to my local vet contact and have him check her out.”
“Of course.” Mrs. Farrol waves a hand. “Take her as far away as you like. But what about my baby boy?”
May sits beside me, her hands folded in her lap. “She doesn’t know where he is. She said they were playing hide and seek a few days ago. It was her turn to hide. She went into your closet and used her claws to climb inside your sable coat with the gold buttons–”
Mrs. Farrol gasps. “That is a family heirloom! My grandmother received that as a gift from Rockefeller!”
May winces.
I put a hand on her knee. “No need to yell, Mrs. Farrol.”
She slumps back in her chair and grabs her drink. “Too right. All this upset and dismay are taking a toll on me.”
“It’s all right,” May says.
It’s not, but I let May continue, my hand still on her knee. She doesn’t have to be afraid. I won’t let this crazy old bird raise her voice again. Not to May.
“So she was hiding,” May runs her hand down the cat’s back, “and waiting for Fitzy to–”
“Fitzy?” Mrs. Farrol asks, agog.
“That’s her pet name for him.” May shrugs.
“Inappropriate.” Mrs. Farrol scowls at the cat. “He’s royalty .”
May clears her throat. “Anyway, she was waiting, but he never came. By the time she gave up and clawed her way out of the coat, she couldn’t find any trace of him.”
“The cat said all that?” I stare down at the fluffy murder cloud in my lap.
“Yes.” May says it so assuredly. She truly believes she’s speaking to the cat. Or, I suppose, listening to it. “And one more thing, when she came out of the closet and set off to look for Fitzy, she smelled something strange in the house.”
“Strange?” Mrs. Farrol perks up again. “Like what?”
“She doesn’t know. But she said she’d know if she smelled it again.”
“Ugh.” Mrs. Farrol grimaces. “That’s nothing. No help at all. I should’ve tossed that trollop out on the street the moment she came pawing at the door. This could be all her fault. In fact, we were perfectly happy before she–”
“Mrs. Farrol.” May cups her hands over the cat’s ears. “Please. She can hear you.”
Mrs. Farrol drains her glass with a loud gulp.
“Are there any other pets we can interview?” May asks.
“No. Just her.”
“What about the butler?” I ask.
“Dudley?” Mrs. Farrol hiccups. “He loves my baby boy. Everyone does. It’s impossible not to.” She beams at the pink-on-pink painting of the not-so-attractive cat. “He’s the cutest thing in the world. So sweet and kind.”
“Right.” I shift, hoping the cat will jump down. She simply shifts with me, her big green eyes looking almost … smug. But cats don’t have expressions. They don’t talk, either, I remind myself. “We’ll need to speak with Dudley and anyone else who was on the property the day the cat disappeared.”
May nods.
“Of course. You have free rein. Just find my baby and bring him back to me.” She lies back dramatically, one arm draped across her eyes. “I simply can’t do without him.”
May whispers something to the cat, which then jumps off my lap and trots to the door. May rises, and I follow her lead, hating the fact my hand isn’t on her any longer.
“I’ll do the questioning this time,” I tell her as I open the door for her.
“Thank you.” She looks up at me, her delectable mouth in a sweet smile.
My heart seems to beat at twice its usual speed, and I find my own lips twitching. It’s as if they want to … smile.
I’ve gone from investigating a missing person to searching for a lost cat with a woman who thinks she can talk to animals. What the hell is happening to me? And why do I seem to like it?