Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Hugo

“So that’s what I need,” I tell Quinn over dinner three days later.

“For the murder you’re doing to distract yourself from the murder your new girlfriend stole from you,” she says.

“Yes.” I don’t bother arguing with her over the girlfriend part. “Oh, and also some kind of chemical compound that attracts cats.”

She drags a fry through the lake of ranch dressing on her plate. “… how many cats?”

“One,” I say. “One specific cat.”

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