Black Cat and the Accidental Angel (Black Cat Mysteries Book 3) by Elaine Faber Read Free Book Online Page B

feel right, but he couldn’t quite put a toe on it. He and Angel had found a safe haven with Cindy and Daddy, and yet, the vexing itch behind his left ear meant one of two things. Fleas, or the harbinger of trouble. Since he’d groomed every inch of his luxurious fur right after breakfast, he felt safe rejecting the possibility of a six-legged critter.
    For a while, he’d thought it might be the daddy’s suggestion to take them to the animal shelter, but Angel had worked her magic and now that Daddy was under her spell, his behavior was almost predictable. Apparently, persons were easy to manipulate, once taken over and properly trained by a competent feline, as Angel had demonstrated.
    A gust of cool air whooshed as the door opened. The daddy rushed in, his face all squinched up and his chin jutting out. He threw his jacket on the sofa.
    Angel glanced at him and scooted under the table.
    “Something’s gotten into the nests again. Gilbert’s only sitting on eight eggs this morning. This is the second day in a row eggs have gone missing.”
    “Did something get into Gabriel’s nest, too?” Cindy got up from the blanket by the stove and crossed to the sofa.
    “The other four nests weren’t disturbed and all the girls look fine. I didn’t see a break in the fence. Fox must have climbed the wire.” The daddy’s cheeks looked flushed, though hard to tell if it was from frustration or the cool morning air. He lifted a .22 rifle from the gun rack by his bedroom door and took a cleaning kit from the buffet drawer. “Think I’d better sit up tonight and see if I can catch—”
    Knock. Knock. Knock.
    Black Cat jumped onto a kitchen chair. He scratched again at the irritating itch behind his ear. It might have been sixth sense or a premonition, but he knew… The source of the itch was just on the other side of the door.
    Angel hunkered lower under the table, her orange stripes blending in a mass of gold, her fur puffed out twice its normal size. She felt it, too.
    Cindy glanced at her father. Her eyes were opened wide and cheeks pale. Like Pavlov’s dog, reacting to his nod, she ran to her room and closed the door. How odd, they’d all felt it. Why such a reaction to the knock of an unexpected visitor? It could be the Avon lady, or a guy selling cable subscriptions…but not likely.
    Black Cat crouched, half hidden under the tablecloth, yet affording him a clear view of the front door. From his position, he had the advantage of surprise, should he be called upon to defend this new household.
    Daddy eased the front door open. “Yes?”
    “Are you Mr. John Goldstein?”
    A hand clutching a briefcase and a bit of dark sleeve was visible just beyond the doorway . Definitely not the Avon lady.
    “Maybe I am. Who wants to know?”
    “I’m Mr. Adams, from Nevada City Mercantile Bank. May I come in for a few minutes? I came to discuss your loan.”
    One of John’s hands held onto the doorknob, the other, knotted into a fist, lay on the jamb. He frowned and motioned the banker inside. “Make it snappy. I’ve got work to do.” He swept the wrinkles from the faded Indian blanket on the sofa. “Have a seat.”
    Mr. Adams balanced on the edge of the sofa, only the smallest amount of his posterior perched on the edge as necessary, lest he fall on the floor. He gazed around the room, cleared his throat and laid his briefcase on the coffee table, then unsnapped the latch.
    Black Cat oozed off the chair and ambled toward the banker. My. My. So, I see that he doesn’t want to get his bottom dirty. How can I further his discomfort? He jumped onto the sofa and flopped down, and leaned heavily against Mr. Adams’s hip. That should do it. Wouldn’t it be a shame if he got cat hair on his pin-striped suit?
    John brought a chair from the kitchen and sat facing the banker, perspiration pooling in the creases above his eyes. He must have guessed what was coming. He picked lint off his jeans and then looked up. “Can I get you