Free The Whole Cat and Caboodle: Second Chance Cat Mystery by Sofie Ryan Page B

head nestled in the crook of my elbow. I shifted him slightly in my arms and he turned his head just enough to shoot me a look. “I knew Charlotte would go over there to check on Maddie. I went with her, just in case.”
    I recounted how we’d tried the front door and then decided to see if Maddie had been working in the backyard and just lost track of time.
    “What did the body look like?”
    I narrowed my eyes and pictured Arthur Fenety’s body in my mind. “It . . . he was slumped to one side and his eyes were closed. There was something at the corner of his mouth.” I raised a hand to my face.
    “Where was Maddie?”
    “She was just sitting there,” I said. “I think she was in shock.”
    Elvis started to purr. Nick smiled at the cat. “Do you have any idea how long she’d been sitting there?”
    “I don’t know. A couple of minutes, I guess. She said she’d been making an omelet for the two of them. Then the phone rang.” I paused for a moment, picturing the table and running Maddie’s words through my head again. “When, uh, she went back outside Arthur Fenety was dead.”
    He caught my hesitation and his brown eyes narrowed. “What is it?” he asked. “Did you remember something else?”
    “I just realized that I’m going to have to tell all of this to Gram over the phone.”
    Nick gave me a sympathetic smile. “Your grandmother and Maddie are close.”
    “They’ve been friends as far back as I can remember.”
    My left arm was starting to fall asleep. I set Elvis down on the floor again. He shook himself and started washing his face but I saw him dart little glances at Nick and at me, almost as though he wanted to listen to the rest of our conversation but didn’t want us to know. I reminded myself that he was a cat and what he was probably thinking about was how he could get another scratch.
    “Is there anything else you can tell me?” Nick asked.
    “I don’t think so,” I said, brushing cat hair off my sleeve.
    “If you think of anything, will you call me?” he said, pulling his keys from his pocket. “Please. You have my cell, don’t you?”
    “I do,” I said. Elvis stretched and headed for the stairs.
    “So, tell me about your new job,” I said as we headed toward the back door. “You’re not like the kind of crime-scene investigator I’ve seen on TV.”
    He laughed. “No one’s like the crime-scene investigators on TV.” He pulled a hand back through his hair. “I told you I’m working for the medical examiner’s office.”
    I nodded.
    “My official job title is medicolegal death investigator. It’s my job to figure out the cause and manner of death when someone dies in this part of the state. Sometimes I have to investigate, like today. That means taking pictures, talking to witnesses, collecting evidence, working with the police. Other times it’s as simple as taking a basic report and having the deceased’s doctor sign the death certificate.”
    We stepped out into the parking lot. “So you’re doing this because you’re trained as an EMT?” I asked.
    “It doesn’t hurt,” he said with a shrug. “But I actually took a course in St. Louis.” He narrowed his gaze. “Mom didn’t tell you.”
    “She left out a few details.”
    Nick shook his head. “She wanted me to take the teaching job. And she still has this fantasy that I’ll go to med school eventually.” He pulled a hand back through his hair. “She likes the sound of
my son the doctor
.”
    “She just wants you to be happy,” I said, as we stepped outside.
    He smiled. “I am.” He still had that great mischievous little-boy smile, but I could see lines etched into the skin around his eyes. “How about dinner sometime down at Sam’s? We can catch up.” The smile widened into a grin. “And maybe it’ll get my mother to stop asking not so subtle questions about my love life.”
    I smiled back at him. “Somehow I don’t think it’ll work, but dinner sometime would be