The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon: A Cats in Trouble Mystery by Leann Sweeney Page B

took the leash as we got out of the car. Once we reached the back door, I disabled the security system.
    Taking a deep breath first, I led the way inside. Or should I say I led briefly before Yoshi raced into the house, his leash nearly slipping from my hand.
    We were greeted by a trio of loud hisses.

Seven
     
    I wrapped the leash around one hand, shortening it considerably, and flipped the utility room light on with my free hand.
    Syrah and Merlot, their fur standing on end and their backs arched, guarded the entrance to the kitchen. Chablis was nowhere in sight. Wispy cat hairs drifted around us—a result of all three cats’ agitation at this invasion by, of all things, a dog .
    Finn stood so close behind me his head was next to my ear. He said, “What cool cats.”
    “They’re not always this, um, fluffy ,” I said. “Can you handle Yoshi? Because I get the feeling that though your dog is small, he could pull me to the floor.”
    “Yoshi, down,” Finn said loud enough that I nearly jumped.
    The dog obeyed instantly, but he didn’t take his eyes off my cats. And they didn’t take their eyes off Yoshi.
    “Do you think he’ll stay put for a few minutes? Or maybe we could attach his leash to—”
    “He’ll stay until I release him. We did obedience class and he took the prize for best student.” I turned and saw Finn smile again, with pride this time.
    “I have to say, though there may be an obedience class for cats, mine have never attended. They do what they want to, when they want to. Pretty typical behavior, I’m afraid.” I unwound the leash and handed it to Finn.
    “You apologizing for your cats being cats?” Finn said with a laugh.
    I grinned. “Shouldn’t do that. You’re right.”
    “The big one is almost Yoshi’s size,” Finn said. “What’s its name?”
    “He’s Merlot and the other one is Syrah. Syrah is my protector, just like Yoshi is yours.”
    “Funny names,” Finn said. “French or something?”
    “I’ll explain later. Right now, I have three cats to tame,” I said.
    Syrah would be the biggest challenge. I could tell from his laid-back ears and the wide-mouthed hisses that just kept coming, he was very unhappy with what the humans had dragged in.
    “Maybe it’s the concussion, but I only see two cats,” Finn said.
    “The other one is hiding. She does that. If you’re sure Yoshi will stay, we can go into the kitchen.”
    “He’ll stay. He likes cats, by the way. We have a few in the apartment complex and he…” Finn’s voice trailed off as if sadness had taken hold. Leaving home is never easy, even if home is a miserable place.
    “Come on,” I said. “I’ll bet you haven’t eaten in ages.”
    “You got that right.” After Finn ordered Yoshi to stay one more time, using a hand signal with the command, he took a spot at the breakfast bar.
    I filled a bowl with water and set it near the dog. He hadn’t been offered a drop since we’d first met. Finn said, “Take it,” and Yoshi lapped water like he’d been left in the desert. As soon as he was finished, Finn repeated his command to stay.
    I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and gave Finn a bag of potato chips and a glass of milk. After he downed the milk in several long swigs, I set the remaining half gallon next to him. While I knelt and petted my two boy cats, I heard about Finn’s hitchhiking trip to find Tom. He did not, however, mention his mother or his stepfather. I wasn’t about to tell him that the man he might have once called Dad was dead. His journey to this point had been difficult enough.
    When he was done telling me about the truckers who had given him rides, as well as one teenage girl who he said was “cute” but talked too much, Finn said, “Can you call Tom now?”
    I’d been thinking the same thing, but then I remembered I couldn’t. Tom’s phone had been found with Nolan. I said, “He’ll call us when he’s free. He had some business that couldn’t