Misty Hollow Cat Detective (Darcy Sweet Mystery) (A Smudge the Cat Mystery Book 1) (2 page)

"Sure," I said, sitting back on my haunches.  I could tell this was going to be a long story.  Benson was a nice enough man, although he kept mostly to himself.  He was an older human with gray hair and black skin that had always reminded me of fresh mud.  In the good way.  Nothing cooled you down on a hot day like laying in fresh mud.

It's a cat thing.

"Well, Benson has been different lately," Twist went on.  "Not himself.  He sits in his chair in front of the window a lot, and keeps mumbling to himself.  'What am I going to do?' he keeps asking.  That can't be good, right?"

"Well, no, but it's pretty common for humans to worry about stuff."  Even Darcy had too much to worry about.

"I know, I know, but there's more.  There's this letter he got.  I can't read human, but when he got it a few days ago his hands started trembling.  He went up and locked himself in his bedroom.  He was in there for a long time, Smudge.  I started scratching at the door and when he finally let me in I saw all of the money he saves at home out on the bed.  He was counting it.  You know how people are always using money for things, like to buy us food and stuff?  Well, Benson kept shaking his head and saying it wasn't enough, it wasn't enough.  Is it possible to have not enough money?"

I've seen Darcy stressed out over her bills before.  A lot of cats don't realize the things people have to do in order to afford food for us and give us warm beds to sleep in.  I'm more in tune with the human world than most cats are, and I know
things.  That lets me help other cats in the neighborhood with people related problems.

There wasn't any question in my mind about whether I was going to help Twist.  Of course I was.  She and I had known each other for a long time.  Not as well as I might want, maybe, but she was still a friend.

Besides.  I'm this town's protector.  Somebody's got to do it.

"Does Benson still have that letter?" I asked her.

"Yes.  He never takes it off the table.  He just keeps looking at it and sighing."

"Okay, good."  I was running through a few things in my mind.  Darcy wouldn't expect me home at any particular time. 
Neither of us had a curfew.  We had that kind of trusting relationship.  So, I could spend whatever time I needed on helping Twist.

"Come on," I said.  "Let's go over to your place."

She stopped her pacing, and tilted her head to one side.  "Why, Smudge.  How forward of you.  At least buy a girl some catnip first."

I must have looked like a kitten just opening its eyes, because she laughed and stepped past me, flicking her tail up under my nose.  "Come on, big shot.  Help my owner out first.  We can discuss
catnip some other time."

I shook my head vigorously, annoyed at myself.  If I kept passing up opportunities like that I'd never get
around to asking Twist on a date. 

For now, though, she needed my help.

***

Following her through the park we both nearly jumped out of our skins when a big crow swooped down in front of us to pick up a shiny bit of tinsel and hop a few steps away with it.

"Caw!" the crow challenged us.  "Mine, mine!"

"For Pete's sake,
Corvin!" I cried out, quoting something I always hear Darcy saying.  "Watch where you're flying!"

"Sorry, so
rry," the big black crow shrieked back in its harsh voice.  "But this is mine, mine, mine!  Not for cats.  Not for cats!"

"Why would we want your stupid string?" Twist says in disgust, wrinkling up her nose.

See, there's a family of crows that lives in the park.  They don't bother people much, so no one bothers with them.  They eat seed and popcorn and other food garbage that gets tossed on the ground, so I guess they're helpful.  Sort of.  They have a tendency to be pretty selfish, though, and they're always in the way.

"Come on, Smudge," Twist says to me, "
let's go."

She doesn't
give the crow a second look.  Corvin watches after her, then turns to me.

"I have to go, too.  See you around."  Hey, it never hurts to be nice.  Even to noisy, annoying blackbirds.

"See ya," Corvin mimics.  "Pretty string.  Mine, mine!"

Crows.
  Less annoying than dogs, more annoying than….well, everything else.

***

Twistypaws lives in a nice house a few streets over from the Town Hall.  Nice neighborhood.  A little crowded for my liking but then cats don't really get to choose the places they live.  You just sit back and hope your human makes a good choice.  Twist's human had made a good choice.

It was a three story house with huge windows and a big apple tree in the front yard that I bet would be amazing to climb. 
All those branches twisting around and waving in the breeze.  Fun.

The house was painted a gray
color that kind of matched the color of the sky at the moment.  Looked like rain.  I twitched my tail.  Hate rain.  Gets your fur all wet.  Thankfully Twist doesn't waste any time getting us up on the long porch at the front of the house and then inside through a hinged cat door.  Nice.  I might have to see if I can get Darcy to put one of those on our front door.

Inside was ni
ce enough.  There was plush furniture in the living room off the front hall that looked like it would be comfy to curl up on.  Thick brown carpeting.  The walls were this weird green color that kind of reminded me of catnip.

She stopped for a minute, listening to the house.  "I think Benson's in bed," she said after a moment.  "Come on.  I'll show you that letter.  You can read?"

"I can," I promised her.

She looked at me
then with something in her eyes.  Something I liked.  Then she turned and bounded off into the kitchen, up onto one of the wooden chairs around the table, and then up on the table itself.

This is one of those universal rules that cats know not to break.  You do not get up on the kitchen table.  I blinked up at her, and smiled.  "You're a
bad girl".

Her face poked over the edge of the table.  "The letter's up here, you idiot.  Now, come on."

"Oh."  What else could I say?  It had been funny to me.

Up on the heavy wooden table were a scattering of papers and pens and a salt shaker and a pair of glasses. 
Lots of human stuff.  Twist was standing over at the near edge, tapping a gray paw against one piece of paper in particular.

"This one," she said.  "This is the one that he keeps reading."

I stepped over and sat next to her, very aware of how close we were, of how our tails kept touching.  I had to make myself get at reading the letter, because the thought crossed my mind that if I pretended I wasn't very good at reading, we could be sitting like this for a very long time.

But, I can read really well, and Twist needed my help. 
So.

The paper was an official looking letter from the bank in town, saying that Benson owed several thousand dollars on his mortgage, and that
the sum was due immediately.  I sucked in a breath.  That was not good.

"He owes a l
ot of money to the bank," I translated for Twist.  "I'm sorry.  People lose houses sometimes when they can't afford them."

She mewled softly.  "
Lose the house?  I don't want to move, Smudge!  I love this house.  Benson loves this house.  This was where he raised his two kids, where he and his wife lived until she passed on.  No wonder he's so sad."

I could see how upset she was.  Not thinking about it, I went to her and pushed my face against hers, the cat equivalent of a hug.  "I know, Twist.  I'm just not sure if there's
anything we can…"

Wait a minute.

Over her shoulder, I saw another letter that had been tossed aside on the table.  Usually, human mail is boring to me.  "You've won a million dollars," or "New credit card offer," or "Happy Birthday!"  Who needs all of that noise coming at them day after day?  Not cats.  That's for sure.

This paper was very interesting
to me, though.  I actually can read better than just really well.  I'm faster than a lot of people, in fact.  I read the whole letter in two blinks of an eye and nearly forgot my whiskers were tangled up in Twist's when I realized what the letter said.

"Uh, Smudge?" she said, quietly.  "What were you saying?"

I nearly jumped.  For the love of catnip, I can be so stupid.  All I've wanted is a chance to get close to Twistypaws and here it was, but instead of enjoying it I was about to do the right thing.

"I was looking at this," I said.  Stepping away from her
, wishing I didn't have to, I snagged the paper with my claws and pulled it out more.  Sure enough, it was exactly what I thought it was.  "Dear Benson LaCroix," I started to read to her.

"
Twistypaws?" a man's deep voice came from upstairs.  "Is that you, kitten?"

Twist's ears drooped and she crouched back on her paws. 
"Oh no!  Oh no oh no oh no!  Smudge, Benson's awake.  He's going to come down here and see us.  You have to go!"

Wait.  What?  "But, I was just—"

"It doesn't matter!  You have to go!  Benson hates it when I bring guy cats over."

Oh.  Well, okay, that made sense. 
I didn't want Twistypaws getting in trouble, after all.  I went to follow her off the table, then paused.  "Uh, wait.  How often do you have other guy cats over?"

She
looked back at me with that look some girls could manage so well.  "Really?  You want to talk about that now?"

"Oh, right.  No.  Not now.  Let's go."  I took two more steps before an idea occurred to me.

As Twistypaws jumped down from the table I went back and bit into the edge of the second letter I had found, gently but firmly, and started tugging it after me.

"What are you doing?" Twistypaws called up in disbelief.

"I neef thif," I said, my mouth full of paper.

"You what?"

"Kitten?" Benson called again.  I could hear his footsteps on the stairs now.

"
Hurry!" Twist hissed.  "Get down from there!"

I did.  Jumping with paper in your mouth is nowhere near as easy as it sounds, but
I managed it and landed gracefully on the floor next to Twist.  If you can call sliding on all fours and flopping half onto my backside graceful.  I spit the paper out.

"Kitten?"
I asked her, repeating the name Benson had called her, an amused smile crossing my lips.

She looked away, up the stairs.  "It's a pet name.  And don't you dare repeat it
to anyone!  Now, go!  Wait, you can't take that letter!"

Benson was halfway down the stairs now
, still calling for Twist.  "Hey, where are you at, Twistypaws?"

"Doesn't look like you have time to argue," I said, still smiling at her, which really frustrated her.  I couldn't help it.  She was so cute when she was angry.
  I didn't want to get her in trouble, though, so snatching the letter back up in my mouth I ran for the door.

Through the cat door I ran, paper flipping up over my eyes so I couldn't see.  From behind me, I heard.  "Oh, there you are kitten.  Where you been tonight?  Come here, now."

I could tell how much Benson loved Twistypaws.  It made sense to me that he didn't want to make her move to a new house.  Maybe a new town, for that matter.  For the love of catnip, I hadn't even thought of that.  Well.  Now I just had to fix this for her.

As I ran through the night I couldn't help but chuckle, though. 
"Heh.  Kiffen."

***

My path took me through the park again.  It was lit up at night, floodlights around the gazebo and three tall lamp posts that pretty much illuminated the whole place, even if it did leave some nice dark shadows to slink through.

I nearly choked on the letter
I was carrying when Corvin swooped down again in front of me.

"What
ya got there, Smudge?  What ya got there?  Is it mine, mine, mine?"

I growled at the bird.  I hadn't realized how close to his tree I'd gotten, and I really didn't have time for this right now.

"Juff go atay," I tried to order him.  He laughed at me as the paper in my mouth mangled my words.

"Caw!
  Caw!  You're funny Smudge.  Funny."

I rolled my eyes and looked up into his tree to make sure his cousins weren't around.  One
crow was bad enough.  More would be worse.  I didn't see them, but I did see something else.  Corvin's stash of things that he'd taken from around the park, stuffed into a basketball-sized opening on this side of the tree.  The hole faced away from most of the park, so I wouldn't have even noticed the stash if I hadn't come this way.

Interesting stuff.
  I'd need to remember all of that for later.  Never know when a secret stash might come in handy to a protector of the town like me.