Raining Cats & Dogs (A Melanie Travis Mystery) by Laurien Berenson Read Free Book Online

had two of them circling my legs in unison.
    “Stop it,” I said. “No!”
    Was there a dog in the world who didn’t know what that meant?
    Inside the house, the Poodles abruptly stopped barking. They must have thought I was talking to them.
    I rest my case.
    I reached down and picked up the orange cat. He weighed more than he looked like he ought to, and long, silky hairs immediately floated up to tickle my nose and eyes. He didn’t threaten to bite or scratch, however, so I figured I should probably be grateful.
    “Come on,” I said. “You’re leaving. Both of you.”
    But when I reached down to scoop up the black cat with my other hand, he squirmed away and shot down the back steps into the cedar-fenced yard. When I went after him, I saw that the gate around the side of the house was open. It was a good thing I hadn’t let the Poodles out to deal with these feline interlopers, or the entire neighborhood would have been treated to a spectacle. A not entirely unusual occurrence around here, unfortunately.
    “There you are,” Sam said when I reached the gate.
    He and Davey were standing in front of the house next door with a woman I hadn’t seen before. She was younger than me by a few years and apparently brave enough to stand outside on a brisk April morning dressed in only a negligee and peignoir. In her arms was a third cat; this one buff-colored with black points. It looked like a Siamese.
    The woman’s fingers, nails painted shocking pink, were stroking the cat’s long body. Even from where I stood, I could hear it purring. The cat hummed like a well-tuned motor. Since she was barefoot, I could see that the woman’s toenails were also tipped in pink.
    Until very recently, the house next door to mine had been occupied by an elderly Italian woman. Edna had moved out just after Christmas, however, and had gone to live with her daughter in Seattle. Her house had been on the market only briefly before selling. I knew the buyers were a young couple; and I’d heard from my friend, Alice Brickman, that a moving van had come and unloaded someone’s belongings that week while I was at work. Presumably, then, the woman talking to my husband in little more than her underwear was my new neighbor.
    Oh joy, I thought.
    The black cat shot past me and wrapped itself around the woman’s bare legs. Maybe they could cuddle together for warmth.
    “Wonderful,” she said brightly. “I see you’ve met Felix. You must be Melanie. Sam was just telling me all about you. I’m Amber Fine.” She untangled one hand from the Siamese’s sinewy body and held it out.
    My hands were, of course, similarly occupied with the orange cat. And being accustomed to big animals, the kind that stood on their own four feet next to me, I didn’t have Amber’s skill at tucking a wriggling cat under my arm. Instead, I bent over to put him on the ground.
    Felix, unamused by the change in stature, suddenly braced both hind paws against my chest and pushed away hard. He flew out of my arms as if I’d thrown him. The cat hit the ground and landed running—right back into my yard. Long hairs, left floating in his wake, drifted up to coat my lips and eyelashes. Before I could straighten, I was already sneezing.
    And by the time I caught my breath I could hear the Poodles barking again. Felix, I realized, was probably back on the windowsill.
    “Oh, dear,” said Amber. “You’re not allergic, are you?”
    “I don’t think so. To tell the truth, I don’t know. I’ve never been around cats before.”
    “Never?” Her green eyes widened, and I realized that although Amber hadn’t bothered to dress yet, she had had time to put on makeup. More than I wear in a month, actually.
    “My mother didn’t like pets,” I said.
    “How very sad for you.” Now she was pouting. The woman had an entire arsenal of charming expressions at her disposal.
    “And now I have dogs.”
    “So I hear.”
    Her tone hadn’t been reproving, but I bristled anyway.