Page 2 of Catnapped

“And you’re Mrs. Farrol, I take it?”

“Indeed.” She takes a long drink from her glass. “Oh, Dudley can make you one, if you like,” she offers.

“No, thank you.” I pull out my small notepad and my pen. “You don’t mind if I take notes?”

“Of course not.” She smiles tightly, her impossibly plumped cheeks at their limit. “Please do.”

I poise my pen over the paper and look at her expectantly.

She doesn’t say anything, simply stares right back at me, her eyes a little glassy.

I clear my throat. “I was told this is a missing person case?”

“Yes!” She almost squawks her answer, her drink sloshing again before she finally puts it down on the small magenta table beside her. “Yes. Missing.”

“Who is–”

There’s a short knock at the door, and then it opens.

“Ms. May Levi,” Dudley announces.

I drop my pen.

“Sorry I’m late.” She hurries forward, her wide eyes bouncing from me to Mrs. Farrol. “I got confused on the directions, and the map thing didn’t want to take me to the right place, and then when I got to the gate, I almost peed myself. I mean, it’s really intimidating, though festive. I mean, I love the cats. And then driving up to the house. Almost peed again. But I made it.” She smiles and stops in front of Mrs. Farrol. “Pee free … so far, anyway.”

I take her in, the curve of her ample hips, the way her hair is haphazardly wrapped in a bun. Then I catch her scent. Warm honey. Sweet. Who the hell is she?

“Glad to have you, Ms. Levi. Sit, sit. This is your partner on the case, Carson Blair.”

She whirls, her bright gaze landing on me. “Hi!” she says. “Oh.” She leans down. “You dropped your pen.” A tendril of her hair grazes my hand, and I close my eyes, trying to stay professional. Trying to do anything except get caught up in the woman standing before me. I don’t know what the fuck has come over me, but I have to get it together. She’s a woman. One I’m expected to work with.

“I work alone,” I grate out and snatch my pen from her far more roughly than I intend.Fucking hell, Car, snap out of it.

“For this case, you don’t. I need both of you,” Mrs. Farrol says with bite.

“All right.” May sits beside me, but farther away than I’d like. “I need details. First, who’s missing?”

Fuck, I scared her.May, I scared May. Not surprising, I suppose. It’s part of what makes me good at my job–my size is intimidating. May side-eyes me for a moment, then scoots a little farther. I fist my hands, crushing my pen in the process.

“Oohh.” Mrs. Farrol lets out an anguished cry and drapes herself across the sofa, one hand over her face. “It’s so horrible. It’s hard for me to discuss. I’ve been a mess since he’s been gone. My sweet little boy. I can’t function. Can’t eat. Can barely sleep. A total mess.”

“I’m so sorry.” May leans across and pats Mrs. Farrol’s hand gently. “I can’t imagine.”

“So, your son?” I use my bent pen to make notes. “How old is he? When was he last seen? I’ll need a description. Photos, usual whereabouts, contacts–”

“My son?” Mrs. Farrol looks over at me, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Teddy is in the Azores with Mrs. USA, the one from Argentina. What a fiasco that is.” She rolls her eyes.

I cock my head to the side. “So you know where he is?”

“I know whereTeddyis. But His Royal Highness Fitzroy Windsor St. John FuzzyBottom IV has been stolen! Absconded with! Purloined!” She points to one of the pop art paintings on the wall. There, in varying hues of pink, is the portrait of a cat wearing a crown and sitting on a tufted pillow. Beneath it, inscribed in flowery script, it saysHRH Fitzroy Windsor St. John FuzzyBottom IV.

This time, I break my pen completely in half. “Acat?”

2

MAY

Iwant to ask the giant man if he’s okay, but that cat has my tongue. Based on the guy’s reaction, he must be as upset as I am that a sweet feline is missing. I mean, he snapped his pen completely in two. That might not be a challenge for him. Holding it too hard in his bear-paw-sized hand would surely make it break with no effort. I don’t ask, though, because he’s kind of scary. But also, really handsome.

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