The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon: A Cats in Trouble Mystery Read Online Free Page B

table in front of him and leaned close. “Tom Stewart might need our help. He’s more important than your cake break.” She pushed my latte closer. “Finish this and go on home. Chill out if you can. I’ll call you.”
    Morris grumbled as he wrapped his cake in a napkin. Then they left.
    But the relief I thought would come from having put this situation in Candace’s competent hands didn’t sweep over me, or even calm my stomach the tiniest bit. Still, I resolved to take her advice. I picked up my coffee, grabbed a to-go lid on the way out and headed for home.
    I felt my shoulders sag with disappointment when I found myself at my back door and remembered I’d failed to set my security alarm. Too rushed when I’d left earlier today, I guessed. Thanks to Tom, I now had a remote on my key chain for just that purpose, seeing as how I always seem to forget to arm the thing if I am in the least bit of a hurry.
    I unlocked the door—at least I’d locked up—but no cats sat waiting in the utility room. They were always there to greet me, but not this time. Hiding from another possible road trip, perhaps?
    I tossed the empty coffee cup into the trash can under the utility sink and stepped into the kitchen, surprised the well-caffeinated latte hadn’t made me feel more agitated than I already was. Syrah slinked up from the basement through the open door—a door always left open since my cats get irritated and whine when it’s shut. Maybe that’s where they’d been when I checked earlier. An occasional mouse did sneak into the basement.
    But when Syrah sat in the doorway and meowed rather than come to me, I felt a new tingle of adrenaline beneath my skin. My cat was telling me something—but what, I wasn’t sure.
    Since Syrah’s hair wasn’t standing on end and his ears weren’t laid back, he obviously didn’t feel threatened. A good sign.
    Then I heard heavy footsteps on the stairs and my heart skipped a beat. But when the voice I heard finally answered my most pressing question, I felt the wave of relief I’d been needing.
    “Don’t worry, Jillian. It’s just me,” Tom called.
    I was so happy to hear his voice I thought my legs would give out.
    Chablis raced through the basement door ahead of Tom and into the kitchen, followed immediately by Merlot. The man I’d been so concerned about appeared a second later.
    Before I could rush over and throw my arms around him, I froze at the sight of his face. What the heck happened to him? His left cheek was bruised and swollen, he had a cut over his eyebrow and his blue eyes were bloodshot.
    “I showered downstairs,” he said. “Didn’t want to mess up your guest bathroom—because I sure would have. You can close your mouth now, by the way.”
    I walked over and gently touched his bruised face with the tips of my fingers. “My gosh, what happened?”
    “Kind of a long story,” he said. “I could sure use a beer while I tell you.”
    “Certainly,” I answered, unable to take my eyes off him. His dark hair was wet and he hadn’t bothered to button his ripped, blood-streaked shirt. “I might even have a beer myself.”
    He grinned. “I don’t believe I have ever seen you drink a beer. Do I look that awful, or is something else going on?”
    Avoiding the question, I said, “Have you been to your house lately, by any chance?” I turned my back and headed for the fridge, deciding what I had to tell him should wait. All three cats followed me, hoping for something besides a beer. Cheese? Turkey luncheon meat?
    “Haven’t been home yet,” he said. “My ride only took me this far.”
    “Your ride?” I said. Since his car was missing and Martha saw him leaving town in the Prius, this didn’t fit. But his car hadn’t been in my driveway, either. So I was confused as I opened the fridge door.
    I felt Tom’s hand on my shoulder. He leaned close and whispered, “I’ll explain everything. But you didn’t set your security system. You know how that