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tumbling down the rest of the stairs. I landed at the bottom with a hard thud and lay there for several long seconds, not daring to move until I could determine if I’d broken something. With a groan, I rolled over to a face full of wet, slobbery kisses as Eggy came to my rescue.
    ‘‘Owwww,’’ I said to him, reaching up to feel a bump forming on the back of my head.
    I heard a meow above me and opened my eyes to see Virgil purring on the staircase in the exact location where I’d lost my footing. ‘‘You son of a feline,’’ I snarled at him.
    He purred back, and with a flip of his tail, he sauntered up the rest of the staircase like he was all that and a bag of chips. I remained on the floor a while longer, wondering how guilty I’d feel if I were to take Virgil for a little ride in the country and drop him off in some lovely cornfield upstate.
    As I was about to push myself to a sitting position, I heard a knock on the door. ‘‘Hang on,’’ I called, getting to my feet. It appeared nothing was broken, but I knew a few places were definitely bruised.
    I opened the door to a welcome sight. Dave, my hippie-looking handyman and business partner, stood on the front porch, wearing a big, fat smile that faded the instant he took notice of me. ‘‘Your lip is bleeding,’’ he said and pushed the door open. ‘‘What happened?’’
    ‘‘Dutch’s stupid cat is trying to kill me,’’ I said, motioning him into the kitchen.
    ‘‘He scratched you?’’
    ‘‘No, he got underfoot as I was coming down the stairs.’’
    ‘‘Well, you should watch where you’re going,’’ Dave said simply.
    ‘‘It wouldn’t matter,’’ I groused as I got a baggie and some ice from the freezer. ‘‘He’d find a way.’’
    Dave smiled at me and I put the ice to my lip. Just then, Virgil strolled into the kitchen and shimmied up to rub against Dave’s leg. ‘‘Seems like a friendly enough cat to me,’’ he said.
    ‘‘Oh, he’s quite the charmer,’’ I agreed. ‘‘Until he decides to mark you as his next victim, that is. Then all bets are off.’’
    ‘‘His next victim?’’ Dave asked, thoroughly amused.
    ‘‘Yeah, yesterday Mr. Chipmunk got the ax. Today it’s me.’’
    ‘‘You don’t say,’’ Dave said, giving me a quizzical look. ‘‘Say, you’re not still taking those pain meds, are you?’’
    I rolled my eyes at him. ‘‘I’m not imagining this, Dave. He’s out to get me.’’
    ‘‘Sure, sure,’’ he said. He picked up Eggy, who had nudged Virgil out of the way to dance around Dave’s legs. ‘‘Say, you got any coffee?’’
    ‘‘Yeah, I made it in my sleep,’’ I muttered as I pushed away from the counter I’d been leaning against and walked over to the coffeemaker. ‘‘What brings you by at, oh, seven a.m., anyway?’’
    ‘‘We got an offer on the Fern Street property,’’ he said.
    ‘‘No kidding?’’ I said, turning around to face him. ‘‘This morning?’’
    ‘‘No, the Realtor left me a message last night, and I didn’t get it until I was on my way to work.’’
    ‘‘Where are you working these days?’’
    ‘‘Milo’s place,’’ Dave said.
    ‘‘Really?’’ I asked as I measured out the coffee.
    ‘‘Yep. Putting in a new bath for the missus. Have you ever met her?’’
    ‘‘I have. She’s a gorgeous woman, wouldn’t you say?’’ Milo was married to an exotic beauty named Noel.
    ‘‘Definitely,’’ Dave agreed. ‘‘He’s a lucky guy, if you ask me.’’
    ‘‘So, is it a good offer?’’ I said, referring back to the Fern Street house that Dave and I co-owned.
    ‘‘It’s a little under the asking price, so, yeah, it’s a good offer.’’
    ‘‘We’ll have to run it by Cat,’’ I said. I pressed the button on the coffeemaker and headed over to the table to sit down.
    Dave groaned. Cat was my sister and the third partner in our real estate development firm. She was as sharp a businesswoman as ever there