Murder Has Nine Lives by Laura Levine Read Free Book Online Page A

commercials to come. That’s because Skinny Kitty just happens to be the world’s most delicious diet cat food. “I’m proud and humbled,” he said, not looking the least bit humble, “to have come up with the recipe in my very own test kitchen.”
    He paused and waited. Across from us, Linda picked up his cue and led the rest of us in a round of applause. His ego sufficiently stroked, Dean then went around the table and introduced us.
    It turned out the fresh-scrubbed blonde in the apron, a gal named Nikki Banks, was the food stylist, whose job it was to make Skinny Kitty look as luscious as filet mignon.
    When Dean got to me, he said, “This is Jaine Austen and her delightful cat, Prozac, whose ability to suck up food is truly astounding.”
    In my arms, Prozac preened.
    That’s nothing. You should see me claw cashmere into ribbons.
    â€œYou all know Ian Kendrick, our esteemed director,” Dean continued.
    Ian flicked two fingers in a limp wave.
    â€œAnd my wife, Linda. Thanks, hon, for picking up the delicious deli spread for the buffet.”
    Linda smiled shyly, still hiding whatever good features she possessed behind her hideous harlequin glasses.
    â€œOh, yes,” Dean said, almost as an afterthought. “There’s my cousin Zeke, author of our script. Even though I had to rewrite most of it myself.”
    He laughed as if he was kidding, but everyone knew he meant it, and across the table, Zeke was doing a slow burn.
    â€œAnd finally, I’d like to introduce the woman whose generosity has made this shoot possible, my dear friend and colleague, Camille Townsend.”
    The Pink Panther gave us all a regal nod.
    â€œAnd, of course, her exquisite cat, Desiree.”
    Camille held up her furry accessory for all to admire.
    In my lap, Prozac snorted.
    What a cream puff.
    â€œLet’s all give Camille a big round of applause,” Dean commanded. “Without her, we wouldn’t be here today.”
    Across the table, Linda applauded enthusiastically. If she had any idea about her husband’s affair with the Pink Panther, she showed no signs of it.
    â€œOkay, everybody,” Dean said, having paid homage to his benefactress. “Time to run through the script.”
    I picked up the piece of paper in front of me. In fact, this was the first time I’d ever seen a copy of the script. So far, all I’d been doing was honing Prozac’s eating and napping skills.
    Dean began narrating our little cat food drama. “The commercial starts out with a voice-over announcer asking, ‘Is your cat fat? Lazy? Too stuffed to move? Does she turn her nose up at ordinary diet cat food? Well, it’s time you tried Skinny Kitty, the diet cat food cats really like!’
    â€œWe’ll show the ‘Before’ cat,” Dean said, pointing to Prozac, “looking fat and lazy, first refusing to eat Brand X cat food, then digging into the Skinny Kitty. Then the announcer will say, ‘After only three weeks of eating Skinny Kitty, your cat will look like this.’ “And we’ll cut to a shot of Desiree.”
    Camille smiled proudly and held up her sleek little princess.
    The Before Cat? Prozac was the Before cat? I couldn’t help but feel a tad insulted.
    And in my lap, Prozac was none too happy. Scoff if you want, but I swear that cat understands English.
    She glared at Dean, fire in her eyes.
    I demand a rewrite!
    Oblivious to Prozac’s dirty look, Dean continued narrating his chef d’oeuvre.
    â€œThen we’re going to wrap up the commercial with a line that’s sure to go down in advertising history: My Skinny Kitty is so delicious, I eat it myself! “That’s right, everybody!” he beamed. “I will actually eat my own cat food. It really is that delicious.”
    â€œHe eats his own cat food?” I whispered to Deedee.
    â€œAccording to Linda,” Deedee nodded, “he has no sense of