Laurie Cass - Bookmobile Cat 02 - Tailing a Tabby by Laurie Cass Read Free Book Online

against the cushion.
    “Yeah, I know, all lake access points should be used only by cats.” I looked at him over the top of the paper. “But would you ever use one?”
    He fixed his gaze on the horizon.
Slap, slap, slap.
    I almost started to argue with him but realized just in time that I would lose. “Fine. Next up is…” The rest of the front page was taken up with nothing Eddie would care about. The opening of a new movie theater, a local student winning a scholarship. I turned the page.
    “Hey, how about this one?” I asked. “You know that TV cooking show,
Trock’s Troubles
? The one that’s filmed up here a few times each summer?”Actually Eddie didn’t know since the houseboat didn’t have a television. Come October it would be different, because Aunt Frances was a devoted fan.
    Trock Farrand, the bumbling host of the long-running show, owned a summer home not far from Chilson and he’d persuaded the show’s producers to film the show at various area locations from Trock’s home kitchen to his patio to farm markets to the occasional restaurant. My best friend, Kristen, owner of the Three Seasons Restaurant, was on a short list and she was torn between excitement and anxiety.
    Eddie’s ears had pricked at the name of the show, so I went on. “This says Trock was out on his bicycle yesterday and was almost run over by a car. He was out on that road that runs right next to Lake Michigan, and he fell halfway down the bluff.”
    I paused, thinking. Farrand had been lucky to escape with the scrapes and bruises the article described. Tumbling down that steep hillside covered with scrub trees, briars, and who knew what else, he could easily have had a serious injury.
    Eddie jumped down from his seat and up onto mine. He bumped the back of the paper with his head.
    “Right. Sorry.” I read through the rest of the article. “He says it was a black SUV with tinted windows that ran him off the road.”
    “Mrr.” Eddie turned around twice and, finally facing the water, settled himself onto my legs.
    “Yeah, doesn’t narrow things down much, does it? That’s what probably half the summer people drive.”
    “Mrr.”
    I started to pet him. “No, I’m not going to get a black SUV with tinted windows just because you want one. Think of how your cat hair would look on black upholstery.”
    He turned his head around to look at me.
    “Fine. When I get a black SUV, which is unlikely unless I win the lottery, which is unlikely unless I start playing it, we’ll get leather seats.” Although that would be problematic in a different way since Eddie still had all his claws.
    But my nonsensical capitulation must have satisfied Mr. Ed, because he started purring. Clearly, he was done with the newspaper.
    Smiling, I closed it. “If you’re done, I’m done, pal.”
    “Mrr.”

Chapter 4
    E arly the next morning, I woke to the unmistakable noise of a cat doing something that he shouldn’t.
    “Eddie, whatever you’re up to, stop it.”
    He, of course, ignored me and went on making odd noises out in the kitchen area.
    Growling to myself about cats and mornings and alarm clocks, I rolled out of bed, and padded down the short hallway and up the three steps in my bare feet and jammies. At the top of the stairs, I stood over him, hands on my hips. “Although it’s more what you’re
down
to, isn’t it?”
    He looked up at me with an expression that could only be saying, “Who, me?”
    “Yes, you.” I kicked at the newspaper he’d pulled off the top of the recyclables pile and dragged to the middle of the floor. “What is it with you and paper products? Paper towels, newspapers. And last month it was stuff out of the printer. What are you going to attack next week?” I almost said toilet paper but kept my suggestion to myself and crouched down to gather up his minor mess.
    “I suppose I should be grateful you hadn’t started shredding this stuff. Having to pick up tiny pieces of newsprint first thing in the