Six Cats A Slayin'

“And surely Deirdre has condescended enough to call upon the new addition to the neighborhood,” Stewart said. “She always has done in the past.”

“She did when I moved in to the house after my aunt’s death.” I recalled the occasion with grim amusement. Deirdre and Diesel had taken one look at each other, and Diesel had left the room. Deirdre hadn’t lingered, either. I shared this with the others.

Hearing his name, Diesel warbled loudly from the doorway. I looked over to see him accompanied by Fred and George. I groaned and pointed to the trio. “This is why I desperately need a way to pen up these miscreants.” Even before I finished speaking, the two kittens had galloped across the floor and made as if to climb up Haskell’s legs, which, fortunately for him, were covered in denim.

Haskell grabbed the kittens before they had ascended to the table. He grinned at them. “Maybe I should start on their corral tonight instead of waiting for tomorrow.”

“Thanks, but I suppose the house will survive one more night,” I said. Diesel lay down beside my chair. The poor boy looked exhausted. I said as much to the others.

“Babysitting is a tough job,” Helen Louise said. “Especially when there are five of them. Poor Diesel. He’s such a sweet boy, looking after the kittens.”

Diesel raised his head and chirped. I reached down and rubbed his head.

Haskell rose from the table, Fred and George cradled in his arms. “Back in a minute.” He left the kitchen.

Diesel didn’t stir. I thought he had gone to sleep.

“Do you think Haskell and I are included in the invitation?” Stewart asked. “I’d give a lot to see Deirdre in action with all the lesser mortals from the neighborhood.”

“I don’t see why not,” I said. “The more the merrier.”

“I haven’t seen dear Deirdre around much lately,” Stewart said. “Not since her third husband died. I suppose she’s been busy shopping for number four.”

Helen Louise laughed. “How many eligible men her age are there with enough money to interest her?”

Stewart grinned. “Oh, I imagine she has widened her field for this one. I heard somewhere that she’s been spending a lot of time in Memphis lately.”

Haskell returned, sans kittens. “Who’re you talking about?” He resumed his seat.

“Deirdre,” Stewart said. “On the prowl for a new husband.”

“Not that Deirdre isn’t an interesting subject,” Helen Louise said, “but let’s get back to Gerry Albritton. Have you noticed the two for-sale signs in the neighborhood?”

“The ones with Albritton Realty on them?” Haskell asked.

Helen Louise nodded.

“Where are they?” I asked. “I don’t recall seeing them.”

“There’s one on my street, about three blocks from my house,” Helen Louise said. “Where Mr. Murdoch lived.”

“Our old high school principal?” I asked after a moment’s reflection. “I saw that he died a few weeks ago.”

“More like two months,” Helen Louise said with a wry smile. “But you’ve had a lot on your mind since then, with a new granddaughter and baby Charlie.”

I nodded. “Where’s the other sign?”

“Three streets over, toward the railroad tracks,” Haskell replied. “Family named Merriman owned it for years. Elderly lady was the last one living there, and she died about two months ago.”

“And here’s our neighbor Gerry selling two houses in the area,” Stewart said. “I wonder how many other elderly neighbors there are around us.”

“Why do you wonder that?” I asked.

“Maybe Gerry is bumping them off so she can sell their houses,” Stewart said. “There are quite a few old folks in this area. We could start seeing those signs popping up all over the place.”

Haskell regarded his partner’s flippancy with a repressive frown. “Be careful where you say things like that.”

Stewart rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t say that in front of anyone else.” He paused for a grin. “Well, hardly anyone else.”

Haskell shook his head, and Helen Louise and I exchanged wry smiles. Stewart’s irreverent sense of humor occasionally went a little too far, but as long as he confined such remarks to the present company, there would be no harm done.

Stewart rose from the table. “On that note, dear ones, I think it’s time I fetched Dante and took him out for a walk.” He gazed at Haskell. “Will you join us?”

Haskell stood. “No, I’ll clear the table. My turn, I think.”

“I’ll help you,” I said, also rising. “No, you stay where you are.” Helen Louise had started to get up, but she sank back in her chair at my words. “You were on your feet at the bistro today.”

“I’m not going to argue,” she said.

Haskell and I had the table cleared by the time Stewart returned with his poodle on a leash, ready for their walk. Both master and dog wore sweaters. Diesel roused long enough to chirp tiredly at his friend, while Dante wiggled and woofed ecstatically upon seeing his good buddy. Dante pulled at his leash to approach the cat, and Stewart allowed the leash to extend. Dante licked Diesel’s face. The cat put a large paw on the dog’s head and pushed him away.

Stewart and I chuckled, and he drew Dante along toward the front door. “We’ll be back soon,” he said.