Six Cats A Slayin'

If Melba had heard correctly, however, then Jared Carter obviously knew something about Ronni. Was it really a person’s name? Or perhaps it was simply a code word. There might not be a Ronni Halliburton at all, at least in this case.

Kanesha had the resources to trace the true identity of Gerry Albritton. I had no access to databases used by law enforcement agencies, and presumably one of Kanesha’s deputies had checked the yearbooks by now. If Kanesha couldn’t turn up anything through her sources, though, the mystery might never be solved. I needed to let go of my curiosity over this investigation and stay out of Kanesha’s way. I couldn’t help but wonder, though, whether Milton had picked up the phone and called her. Not my business, I reminded myself sharply, and concentrated on driving.

Finally, I got clear of the slow-moving traffic around the square and made my way home. The kittens would be clamoring for their dinner, no doubt convinced they would never eat again. I grinned as I pictured them. I had to admit that I was quickly growing attached to them, one in particular. But I reminded myself that I did not need six cats in the house. Two, maybe, but not six. Diesel had tolerated them all so far, even seemed fond of them, but he might not take to the idea of having them become part of the family.

Azalea had departed by the time I got home. I found a note on the fridge. She had already fed the kittens. I would have to thank her especially for helping with them. I suspected that she was fonder of them than she would be willing to admit. There was a tender heart protected by the gruff personality she presented to the world.

Diesel appeared quickly, and I listened to him meow and warble as he told me all about the kittens. If only I could understand him, I was sure I would be highly amused by what he had to say. I wondered if he was tiring of his self-imposed babysitting duties. Perhaps he was telling me that he wished I would hurry up and find out where the kittens belonged, so he could have the house to himself again.

After some stroking and a few comments from me, he ceased his vocalizing and trotted off to the utility room. I finished reading Azalea’s note. She had left a shepherd’s pie in the oven, and there was a fresh salad in the fridge. She had also made a lemon icebox pie, one of my favorites.

Was it any wonder I had high blood pressure and a weight problem? I really should sit down with Azalea and have a talk with her about making some changes in the food she prepared for me.

Or I could stop being a slug and join the gym. Stewart periodically raised the subject, and I always put him off. I couldn’t see myself working out in the gym, but I also hadn’t had much success exercising on my own at home. Maybe I should let Stewart work with me. I’d think about it, but I wasn’t going to do anything until after the holidays.

I wasn’t quite ready for my dinner. I wandered into the living room to check on the kittens. I took them out of the cage by turns and spent half an hour playing with them and talking to them. While I did that, I also thought about the note I wanted to write and leave on the door for the mysterious child.

What if I took a direct approach and asked the child to talk to me? Would she be willing to do that? I would be perfectly happy to let her visit the kittens. If she happened to confide in me the identity of the man she’d referred to in her original note, I would promise to help her talk to him about the kittens.

Worth a shot, I decided. I put Ramses back in the cage with his siblings. Not for the first time I wondered how many different fathers had sired this litter. Perhaps two? I knew it wasn’t unusual for litters to have multiple fathers. Since three of them were orange tabbies and the other two were dark gray, I thought two fathers was a reasonable guess. I had no idea what their mother looked like, so perhaps some of the kittens had her coloring while the others had the father’s. Feline genetics was not one of my areas of expertise.

Back at the kitchen table, pen in hand, I composed the note that I would put on the door. I kept it simple. I’m sure you would like to see the kittens and play with them. Can we talk? I want to help however I can. Thank you for the money, too.

I read it through a couple of times. Simple, but to the point, I hoped. I made some calculations based on the height of the living room windows on the outside, then watched the video again to get some idea of how tall the child was. From these two factors I decided on how high to place the note.