Free Cat Raise the Dead by Shirley Rousseau Murphy Page B

what he might suspect, if Max Harper breathed a word about intelligent cats, about crime-solving cats, to his fellow officers, he’d be off the force quicker than he could spit.
    Dulcie nudged Joe, and he came alert, saw Clyde’s meaningful look, realized he must have been staring too hard at Harper, maybe smirking. Clyde’s look said, watch yourself, buddy. And to distract Joe, Clyde leaned over and opened the passenger door of the Bentley.
    â€œCome on, cats. Come on, kitty kitty,” Clyde said sarcastically.
    Glancing at each other, they lowered their eyes demurely and trotted around the front of the Bentley. Stood staring up through the open door as Clyde carefully arranged his clean white lab coat across the front seat. When he had suitably covered the creamy leather, he shouted, “Come on, dammit.” And they jumped up onto the coat, the three of them playing the master-and-cat game perfectly for Harper’s benefit.
    â€œYou two make one claw dent, you leave one cat hairanywhere near this upholstery, and you’re dog meat. Two little portions of Ken-L Ration.”
    Harper observed this little tableau with only the faintest change of expression on his long, cheerless face. Whatever he was thinking didn’t show.
    Clyde patted Joe roughly, and grinned at Max. “I volunteered the cat to Bonnie Dorriss for that Pet-a-Pet group she’s organized, to visit up at Casa Capri.”
    Harper raised an eyebrow, but nodded. “She started the project for her mother, only way she could think of, to take the poodle up there. Thinks the dog’ll cheer Susan, help her recover. Susan loves that big poodle.”
    â€œBonnie told me the plan; she’s sure the dog can help Susan get through the pain of the therapy, keep her spirits up while she heals.” Clyde ruffled Joe’s fur in an irritating manner. “Bonnie wanted some cats in the group, so why not? Let the little beggar work for a living.”
    Beneath Clyde’s stroking hand, Joe held very still, trying to control his rage. Clyde could be a real pain. Let the little beggar work for a living . Just wait until they were alone.
    Pulling away from Clyde’s stroking hand, turning his back, he pictured several interesting moves he might pursue to put Clyde Damen in his place.
    Harper said, “I can’t believe she’d take cats up there. A dog, sure. You can train a dog, make him mind. But a cat? Those cats will be all over; you can’t control a cat.
    â€œBut hey, maybe a few cats careening around will give those old folks a little excitement, anything to break the boredom.” Harper frowned. “When old people get bored, they can turn strange. We’ve had some real nut calls from up there.”
    â€œOh?” Clyde said with interest. “What kind of nut calls?”
    Harper shifted his lean body. “Imagining things. One old doll calls every few months to tell us that some of the patients are missing, that her friends have disappeared.”
    Clyde settled back, listening.
    â€œWhen someone gets sick, Casa Capri moves them from the regular Care Unit over to Nursing. More staff over there, nurses who can keep them on IVs or whatever’s needed. They don’t encourage people from Care to visit the patients in Nursing, don’t want folks whipping in and out. I can understand that.
    â€œSo this old woman keeps calling to say they won’t let her see her friends, that her friends have disappeared. She got on my case so bad that finally I sent Brennan up to have a look around, ease her mind.”
    Harper grinned. “The missing people were all there, their names on the doors, the patients in their beds. Brennan knew a couple of them from years ago. Said they were pretty shriveled up with age.”
    He shook his head. “I guess that place takes as good care of them as you’d find. But poor Mrs. Rose, she can’t understand. Every time she calls, she’s