Misty Hollow Cat Detective (Darcy Sweet Mystery) (A Smudge the Cat Mystery Book 1) (3 page)

For now, though…

I charged at Corvin and he jumped up, ca-cawing the whole way, flapping his wings furiously.  Crows.  They were like mice with wings.

***

I ran to Darcy's house, the paper in my mouth the whole way.  It rattled in the wind and my fur ruffled as I streaked up to the front door.  I didn't have time to find an open window or use my secret entrance, plus I didn't want to risk tearing the precious clue.  So I stopped at the front door, and scratched until I got Darcy's attention.

"Smudge," she said to me, a little sternly.  "What are you doing out so late?  What's this?"

She took the paper from me, and I beamed up at her.  Darcy understood me so well.  I didn't have to tell her anything about the page for her to understand how important it was.  Her eyes got wider as she read it.  Then she reached down and scratched me for a long time behind my ears and around my neck and even on my belly.

Hey.  Don't knock it until you can try it.

"Good boy, Smudge," she said.  "I think I better call Benson on this right away."

***

It was the next day when I followed Darcy over to the bank.  It was where people kept their money and their jewels and for all I knew their stashes of catnip.  Their important stuff, anyway.  There were people who worked at the bank, and I knew most of them.  It was one of these people Darcy was going to see.

Cats a
ren't allowed in the bank, but that never stopped me before.

I know my way around places in town.  I know that if you sneak in through a back entrance to the bank and push aside a wall panel that everyone thinks is nailed down and then crawl up into the ceiling, you can spy down on just about everything from up here.

Being a cat rules.

So
that was how I could sit, very quietly, and listen in on Darcy's conversation with Fillmore Swiller, one of the bank people.  He was a loan officer, or something like that.

"Hi, Fillmore," Darcy said to him.  "Got a minute for me?"

"For you, Darcy, always."  Fillmore was a mousy little man, and cats don't use that term lightly.  His skin was a pale white that was almost gray, and his face was narrow like a mouse's, and his teeth were long and crooked when he smiled. 

I just wanted to bite him. 

"What can I do for you?" he asked.  "The book store need another loan?"

"No, not yet, thanks."  Darcy took a seat across from Fillmore at his desk.  From my vantage point, between two ceiling tiles, I saw the whole thing.

"I wanted to ask you about this letter you sent Benson LaCroix," Darcy said, handing the letter she had gotten from Benson this morning over to Fillmore.

He took it from her, his hands shaking as he read it.  "Oh.  Yes," he said, clearing his throat.  "Well, as you know, it isn't our policy to discuss
the financial matters of our clients with anyone."

"I know," Darcy told him, her face all smiles.  "That's why I went to talk to him about it.  See, Benson got a letter in the mail
recently.  It informed him that a survey the town paid for determined his property would be a prime location for a new cell tower to be set up.  Not long after that, your bank sent him that foreclosure notice."

Darcy was using a lot of big words for my poor cat brain. 
Foreclosure.  What was that?

"I don't get the connection," Fillmore said.

"I do," Darcy answered stiffly.  "Cell towers are big money in this area.  The companies that rent land for those towers pay thousands of dollars a month to homeowners, sometimes."

Fillmore looked more uncomfortable, pulling at his collar.  "So?  That would be a windfall for Benson.  Good for him."

"It would be," Darcy agreed, "except he doesn't want to do it.  This is the third or fourth letter he’s gotten about the tower.  He's said no each time.  Doesn't the bank handle the financing for town surveys?"

"Uh, sure we do."  Fillmore checked his watch.  "I really have other things to get to, Darcy.  Can we…?"

Darcy stood up, and with just a look forced Fillmore back into his seat.  "No.  We can't do this later.  Tell me, Fillmore, does the bank know you foreclosed on Benson's property?  Do they know you made an anonymous bid to buy it out from under him?"

Fillmore's eyes went wide, and I could see sweat bead up on his forehead.  "There's no way you could know that I did that!  That bid was sealed!"

Darcy smiled down at him.  "I didn't know.  Until you just admitted to it.  It looks to me like you falsely defaulted on Benson's mortgage so you could get his property, then get the money from the cell tower company for yourself.  Since you're the loan officer, Benson would only be dealing with you, so who would know, right?"

Fillmore didn't speak.  He squeaked.  Like a mouse.

"Well," Darcy said.  "Everyone's going to know now.  I'm going to the branch manager with this.  I'm betting you'll be fired before the day is out.  Oh, and my sister Grace wants to talk to you.  You know, the police detective?"

I purred.  I couldn't help it. 
I was just so proud of Darcy.  Fillmore jumped out of his seat like a dog had bit his tail and started picking things up off his desk randomly before making a beeline for the front door of the bank.  He mumbled something about taking an early lunch break.

Darcy, true to her word, went right over to a door with a frosted glass window and the words "Bank Manager" on it.  I knew Twistypaws would be all right now.  She and Benson wouldn't have to move.  It sounded like Benson would make a lot of money, too, if he'd let this cell tower t
hing go on his property.

Oh well.  Money isn't everything, I guess.

Crawling out carefully again, I left Darcy to take care of everything.  I had something else to do.

***

It was late afternoon when I finally found this Sue Fisher person again.  By then, Darcy had found her first.  I felt a little miffed about that but I guess humans can sniff out their own kind easier than us cats can.

"So,
" Darcy was saying.  "Let's go find that diary of yours."

Sue shrugged.  "It's gone.  I know it's gone, Darcy.  What a rotten way to start my first day on the job with you."

"Don't worry about it," Darcy said with a warm smile.  "I'm sure we'll find it."

I knew they would.  I was going to make sure of it.

I was crouched around the corner of a building and they didn't see me until I bolted right out in front of them, across their path, and into the park across the street.  Sue took a step back but Darcy only laughed.  "That's Smudge.  He ends up everywhere.  I never can figure out how he does it."

Into the park I ran, right to
Corvin's tree.  I needed some height to make this work.  Up the tree I climbed, paw after paw, kind of jumping my way up the rough bark until I could make it into the lower branches, then up even higher.

It wasn't long before
Corvin came out, chest all puffed out and wings flapping.  "Caw!  No no no!  Mine!  My tree!  Not Smudge's tree!"

"
Corvin, I don't have time to argue this with you," I said to him, hunching down and fastening my claws into the branch just below the knothole full of stuff.  "I need something out of your stash."

"Mine, mine!" he cawed
, flapping closer to me.

"Well.  If that's how you want it."

I swiped my claws at him and hissed.  I'm not proud of acting like an animal, but when it's needed, I do what I have to. 

Corvin
flew away, terrified that I was going to rip his tail feathers out.  Possibly because I told him that was what I was going to do.  Not that I would.  I just wanted to scare him away for a little bit so I could get something out of his tree.

I don't even need a lot of his things.  Just one thing in
particular.

Just in time, too.  I could
see Darcy and Sue walking this way, down a path that will take them directly under this tree.  Perfect.

"Are you sure you were over here when you were reading it?" Darcy asked Sue.

"Yes.  Right over there."

As Sue pointed
, I reached up to the knothole and dragged the thing out with my teeth.  I know what it is.  Like I said, I've read Darcy's before.

Down to the
ground dropped the little red diary with its big, flashy lock.  Shiny things attract crows.  They love to steal anything flashy or sparkly.  And I've never known any crow more prone to stealing a pretty bauble than Corvin.

When the diary fell softly to the grass below it didn't even make a s
ound.  Sue almost stepped on it before she noticed it there.  When she bent to pick it up she cried out with excitement, "Here it is!  Oh, awesome.  I would have hated for someone to find this and read it.  Or worse, throw it away!  I've got all my dreams and plans in here."

"You mean," Darcy asked her, "like working at a small town book store?"

Sue laughed.  "Well, that, and hopefully one day I want to go back to college for advanced courses in Literature.  I want to be a teacher someday."

"Really?"
  Darcy turned them back towards that Deli with all the turkey.  "I think that's great.  You know, I took Lit in college.  We should have a lot to talk about…"

From
up in the tree branches, I watch them go, and sigh.  It's nice to see things work out, but there's still one more detail to go.

A cat's work is never done.

***

Twistypaws
was very grateful to me for saving her home.  Which is to say, she didn't immediately start ignoring me when I came sauntering up on her front lawn.

She w
as lying out on the front porch in the bright sunlight.  She looked really pretty.  I blinked, and blinked again, and I'm pretty sure I was staring.  When she saw me standing there with my tail swishing, she yawned lazily and stretched.  It made my heart skip a beat. 

Jumping down
off the porch she came right up to me and pushed her face up against mine.  "Thanks, Smudge," she said.  "You're a little odd sometimes, but you really came through for me."

Not the compliment I was hoping for, but I
decided to take it.

"Your tuna is on the porch," she informed me, pointing with a sniff of her nose at three cans laid out in a row.  "You earned it."

Okay, decision time.  I can be the guy working for her and just doing a job, or I can be the friend she can always turn to.

I picked the obvious choice.

"Keep the tuna," I said, even though my stomach growled at me angrily in protest.  "I didn't do it for the food."

"Oh?  So what did you do it for?"

"You," I ventured, trying to look cute and coy.

My reward for being a friend
instead of some guy doing a job was another face rub from her.  A longer hug than she had given me before.  "Thanks, Smudge," she whispered in my ear, making me shiver and flick my tail.

Then she turned to leave.

"Hey, Twist," I say, scuffing my paws against the grass as she turned away.  I figured if I didn't ask her now I'd never get my nerve up.  "Would you maybe want to go down to this spot I know in the woods sometime?  It's incredible there."

"Really?" she said, blinking her eyes, pausing with one foot up in the air.  "What's so special about the woods?"

"Well, I'd have to show you.  I can't just tell you about something this special."

Her tail swished back and forth, and I could see thoughts rolling across those crystal blue eyes like clouds scudding across the sun.  "I'll think about it," she said, then turned away to jump up the steps and slip inside her and Benson's house.

I nearly jumped for joy right there in front of the whole town.  She said she'd think about it.  That was definitely not a no.

Sometimes,
a cat has to take what he can get. 

—End—

Watching over a town like Misty Hollow isn't as easy as it sounds.  My owner, Darcy Sweet, has gone out of her way for
this town lots of times.  I figure I can't do any less myself.

A cat's work is never done.

"Kind of dramatic, aren't you?"

Twistypaws
narrowed her eyes at me.  Usually the color of clear blue water, now in the moonlight they were a doubtful gray.  She's the most beautiful cat I've ever seen, with soft gray fur and a long, graceful tail, but she isn't just another pretty whiskered face.  She's smart and intelligent.  Which means she's skeptical about a lot of the things I tell her.

I can't really blame her, I guess.  If I hadn't seen things like a ghost dog trying to bury bones in the town's cemetery, I wouldn't believe me either.

"I'm serious," I tell her now, as we sit together on the flat roof of the library, watching the celebration in the town center.  "My life is pretty dangerous.  I've only got eight lives left.  You should go easy on me."