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Another cat?
She thought about ignoring the sound and continuing inside, knowing that she had three flights of stairs still to tackle, but the tiny possibility that it might be Oscar, even this far away, stopped her.
She waited to see what the cat was going to do as its meows were increasing in loudness. A tiny dark head appeared around the corner of the building. It stopped as it continued to sniff the air, then slowly crept across the stretch of dirt until it reached within a few feet of her.
It sniffed again. It must smell the wet cat food stuck to the top of her boots.
The poor thing looked so tiny and scraggly, its fur sparse and, in some places, nearly bare. Probably had never had a proper meal in its short life. The absence of a collar around its neck confirmed this. A stray.
The cat’s hunger seemed to overcome its shyness, and it crept the rest of the way until it was at her feet. Cautiously, a tiny pink tongue slipped out, and she swore she could feel its texture through the toe of her boot as it licked off the scraps.
Her heart ached for the little thing, orphaned and alone and with no one to look out for it.
She remembered the extra cans of cat food she had in her purse and slowly reached in to pull one out. As she cracked open the lid, the cat scampered back before diving into some shrubbery and out of sight.
That’s okay. It was only skittish. She could wait it out. Keeping still, she waited until the cat poked its head out again, its hunger overriding any fear it had. This time when it approached, it rubbed its head against the side of her boot, then weaved its body around her legs, turned, and weaved back the other direction.
What this baby needed was some food, a bath, and heaps of love. All of which she could happily provide.
Before she could reconsider her decision, she leaned down, rubbing her fingers together. The cat tipped its head up to sniff her fingers before pushing its head against them for some loving. Once she was sure there was a level of trust between them, she scooped it up, its frame light and fragile as she tucked it against her chest.
Instantly, the cat’s entire body vibrated as it purred and rubbed its head against her. She looked down, smiling at the large and pointy ears that seemed too big for its tiny head. It turned its head up to her, and she looked into wide green-blue eyes that stared back with tentative trust.
So maybe Waverley didn’t know anything about cats or having a pet of any kind, not ever being in a household that had had one, but she was confident she could learn what this lonely thing needed.
After all, she knew what it felt like to feel alone and unwanted. Like her, it just needed to feel loved.
“That’s okay, kitty,” she said, rubbing its head as she cooed. “You’re safe. I’m going to be your new mama.”
Chapter 7
Reynolds pulled his car up to the curb about half a block away from Mrs. Dolowitz’s house two nights later. He’d meant to get out here before now, but his last appointment on Monday required his immediate attention in Grand Junction, a three-hour drive from Blue Haven, that had kept him away until now.
He rubbed the side of his neck, trying to work out the kink that had developed from sleeping last night in his car. He would prefer to be hitting his bed for some much needed sleep, but he also knew that cats tended to be more active at night, and if he wanted to find Oscar, now was the optimum time.
Reynolds climbed out of his car, quietly shutting the door before heading down the sidewalk, his eyes and ears alert for any sign of movement. He was about to pass a pole when a bright pink flyer caught his attention and he stopped to study it.
There was a picture of a cat blown up with a caption above it that read: Missing Cat. Answers to Oscar. Below the photo were two numbers listed to call if the animal was spotted. One he didn’t recognize, the other one he definitely did.
Because it was to his office phone number.
Why would his office number be listed when he wasn’t officially on the case?
Okay, he had some suspicion. Suspicion that looked an awful lot like the work of the pretty blond receptionist who’d sent him about a dozen different emails over the past two days keeping him updated with what was going on at the office while he was away.
Interestingly enough, none of those emails mentioned anything about looking into the disappearance of a cat…
He walked along the side lawn between Mrs. Dolowitz’s and the house next door. In his experience that was more vast than he’d like, cats didn’t usually go much farther from home when they went missing. It was best to stick close to home, like looking around the adjoining property of the cat’s home.
He debated knocking on the neighbor’s door to let them know what he was doing, but since this was an unofficial investigation, he opted against it. The last thing he wanted was to announce the fact that former cop and private investigator Reynolds Cavanaugh was investigating the disappearance of a cat.
He paused again, listening for signs of a critter lurking around. Nothing sounded out of the ordinary, though.
Just in case, he pulled the cans of sardines from his jacket pocket, a treat with a pungent odor that he’d learned in the past could draw almost any cat in range. Especially when it had been sitting on top of the heater vent of his car for the past ten minutes, making it extra fragrant.
He continued to move to Mrs. Dolowitz’s backyard, an easy feat since there was no gate to prevent anyone from getting access. There was a wide deck and a swing set that appeared recently installed, probably for the benefit of her young granddaughters. He set the can down on the corner of the deck, giving a chance for the smell to travel a bit as he continued to creep around, looking under bushes until he reached an old shed in the corner.
Hmm. A shed. That might be a good bet.
