Free How to Catch a Cat by Rebecca M. Hale

bonus, she added wryly, of not caring if you were fired.
    That would solve a lot of my problems, she mused as she picked up the coffee cup and took a tentative sip of the hot liquid.
    The lid wasn’t securely fastened, and a few drops spilled onto the floor, narrowly missing Isabella’s head.
    At the cat’s scolding chatter, the niece noticed a spot of coffee on her blouse.
    “That’s not too bad, is it?” she asked, wiping the smudge with her hand.
    Isabella gave her person a disapproving stare.
    “I mean, really. No one will see it.”
    The cat’s orange ears turned sideways in disagreement.
    “Oh, all right, I’ll go change.”
    Warbling her concurrence, Isabella followed her person back upstairs to the third-floor bedroom.
    The tip end of her tail snapped the air with importance. The niece would need feline guidance to pick out a suitable replacement shirt.
    —
    A FEW MINUTES later, Isabella and her person—clad in a clean blouse—returned to the showroom.
    Isabella padded circles around the niece as she opened a closet and removed a large green stroller. After wrangling with the various levers and latches, the niece unfolded the contraption to its operational configuration.
    Sturdy nylon fabric had been wrapped around a lightweight metal frame to create a stroller that was specifically adapted for pet transport. The passenger compartment had a mesh cover that could be zipped over the stroller’s furry occupants, safely securing them inside.
    While initially skeptical of the device, Isabella now enjoyed her stroller outings. She lifted herself up on her haunches and inspected the interior before issuing her formal approval.
    “Mrao.”
    “Where’s Rupert?” the niece asked, looking around the shop.
    She was unable to interpret Isabella’s muttered response from inside the stroller.
    “Hmm . . .”
    The niece conducted a quick search of the showroom.
    Antiques from San Francisco’s Gold Rush era took up much of the space. During his time running the Green Vase, her uncle had amassed a wide array of historic relics.
    There were mining tools, gambling paraphernalia, and a number of gold-related fashion items. Most notable was Oscar’s collection of gold teeth, which Barbary Coast dentists had been commissioned to insert into the Forty-Niners’ mouths. In the fashion of the day, nothing conveyed success more effectively than a gold-toothed smile.
    Next to a collection of rudimentary tooth extraction devices stood a leather dental recliner that had been used during the gruesome procedures.
    The niece often sat in the recliner to relax, read a book, or ponder her uncle’s latest schemes. It was a surprisingly comfortable place to think—despite the immeasurable pain that had been endured by the chair’s previous occupants.
    —
    THE SOUND OF scrambling claws and pounding cat feet echoed down from the third-floor bathroom, growing louder as the noisemaker charged down the steps to the building’s midlevel and romped across the kitchen.
    Hands on her hips, the niece glanced up at the ceiling, anticipating the cause of the commotion.
    Moments later, Rupert rounded the corner at the bottom of the stairs and bounced into the showroom.
    He’d just completed his morning routine in the red igloo litter box, including the ever-important spastic litter box dance.
    Stopping in front of the niece, he threw his body into a head-to-toe vibration, shaking loose the last pieces of litter still clinging to his fuzzy coat.
    “
Wrao-wao
,” he called out when he was finished, announcing his arrival.
    Isabella peeked out of the stroller to give her brother a disparaging look. Rupert happily allowed himself to be scooped up by the niece and set inside the passenger compartment. Undeterred by Isabella’s frosty demeanor, he leaned over and gave his sister an adoring lick across the face.
    Smiling at Rupert’s antics, the niece zipped up the carriage netting and spun the stroller toward the door.
    Pausing by the