Kitty Kitty by Michele Jaffe Read Free Book Online

should have known. “Do you know why they are following you?”
    “I think so, but I’m not positive. I asked someone the wrong question. Somewhere down the line I asked the wrong question. I wish I knew which one because then I would know .”
    “Know what?”
    “Everything.”
    My bafflement quota is high but I’d pretty much reached it. “Okay. Um, what about going to the police? They could help you. Retrace your steps, figure out what question you asked where, maybe—”
    “The police,” she snorted. “Did they help you today? Arrest that man?”
    “No, but that was because he was only trying to—”
    “Exactly. The fortune-teller told me not to trust the police and she was right. They are probably in on it!”
    “Fortune-teller? The one who said you were in danger?”
    “Yes. And then the cat, my landlady’s cat, looked at me funny. That’s a sign! And—”
    She broke off and when she came back she said, “I have to go, that’s my other line. Don’t forget: ten o’clock. I’ll be in disguise. You won’t recognize me, but I’ll recognize you.”
    And with that sharp turn onto Delusion Drive, she hung up.
    While Delusion Drive is very scenic, one visit per day is probably ample, and I’d already had mine when I got to explain to the police that my invisible friend was afraid of being murdered by a gondolier. It was sad that Arabella seemed to have bid sanity farewell, but it was not my problem. I already had plenty of Crazy in my life. Or at least, that’s what I tried to tell myself.
    I didn’t have too much time to dwell on it because at that moment there was a rough pounding on my door followed bymy father’s voice bellowing, “Jasmine, it is time for dinner. Unlatch this door or I will break it down!”
    Hello, Dadzilla! What exuberant charm you have!
    On any other night I might have been tempted to see if he really could break down my door or if he was just all chat, because that is the kind of thing a daughter should know about her father, but not on Surprise Night.
    Instead, I practiced both the wide-eyed-wonder and hands-clutched-adorably-to-chest one last time, and went out the door with a glad heart and a carefree step.
    Never do this.
    The dining room of the hotel was more crowded and bustling than usual, and I kept myself busy wondering which of the Save Venice people had disreputable secrets in their pasts. But as soon as I finished ordering pumpkin tortellini in sage and butter sauce (which I highly recommend if you ever find yourself at the Grissini Madhouse), Sherri! got my full attention by saying, “Hurry up, Cedric. It’s almost time!”
    As though I’d written the script myself, my father said, “Jasmine, we know you’ve been lonely, and since next week is the week that seniors at your school get off to visit colleges, we thought it would be pleasant for you to have some time with friends.” I was just getting ready to clutch my hands and raise eyes filled with loving gratitude when three horrifying things happened:
1) I looked across the room and saw two girls my age, with perfect brown hair and perfect makeup, wearing high-collared lace shirts, pinafore minidresses, Mary Janes, and bonnets enter the dining room.
2) One of them looked at me and started waving.
3) My father went on: “So we invited your aunt, uncle, cousin Alyson, and that nice friend of Alyson’s to spend the week with us here in Venice.”

Chapter Seven
    Actually four horrifying things. As they approached our table, I realized they were also both wearing frilly shorts. And white gloves.
    It was almost too much for my brain to take in all at once. As far as I could tell, instead of me going to California to see my pals, my cousin the Evil Hench Mistress Alyson, who was an expert in TortureJasology and should be marked with both PROTECTIVE EYEWEAR REQUIRED and TOXIC MATERIAL labels, had come to Venice with her best fiend. And she was dressed as Little Ho Peep.
    It was like shoulder pads under