Addressing Kenner, I said, “Would you shine your flashlight around a little bit? I hope the kittens aren’t out here. They couldn’t survive alone in this cold weather.”
“What kittens?” asked Mars.
“It’s the weirdest thing. Someone left gorgeous kittens in my house in this basket, but without a name on the gift tag. When I came home this afternoon, the kittens were gone.”
Vegas disappeared through the gate. Unless Natasha had decorated the backyard with lights, I didn’t think she’d see much there.
She returned in seconds. “It’s too dark, but we have to look for Alice and Jasper! How did they get out here?”
Mars herded her down the street toward my house. “First we have to check on Natasha.”
Vegas had said what I was thinking. I trailed after her and Mars, peering at houses in the darkness, hoping I would see those adorable kitten faces. Nothing about the kittens made any sense to me. Why had someone left them anonymously to begin with? And why had someone taken them? Had Natasha’s assailant taken the kittens from my house? That would mean someone had stolen a key to my house—or it was someone I knew, someone who had a key.
I did know one thing for sure—Natasha and Mars had a key.
Mars acted the duly concerned lover when he saw Natasha, kissing her forehead and checking out her neck, but I barged into the kitchen and folded my arms across my chest. When Mars had finished his soothing coos, I demanded, “What exactly might you happen to know about a couple of Ragdoll kittens?”
Natasha touched her throat and whispered, “Can’t talk.”
“Hogwash,” said George. “She just told us how she had walked out of her house and down the front steps when someone bashed her over the head from behind.”
Speaking in a very weak voice, Natasha said pathetically, “I passed out.”
“When Mrs. Claus tried to strangle her,” added George.
“The next thing I saw was Sophie.” She lowered her head and sipped at a cup of hot tea.
Mixed emotions assaulted me. Natasha had been through a terrible attack, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew something about the mysterious kittens. It seemed like more than a coincidence that the kittens’ basket lay near her gate.
To my surprise, it was Laci who brought the subject back to the cats. “I thought it was quiet around here. Where
are
Alice and Jasper?”
“I don’t know. When I came home, they were gone, and Vegas just found their basket where Natasha was attacked.” I leaned menacingly close to Natasha. “Just tell me one thing. Are they outside in the freezing temperature?”
Natasha glanced around as if she was looking for a friendly face, someone to defend her. She must not have found one, because she whispered, “It wasn’t my fault. I dropped the basket when I fell to the ground.”
Dinner would have to wait. I bolted from the kitchen and collected flashlights. When I returned to the foyer, everyone was pulling on coats. I handed out the flashlights and remembered that Shawna was upstairs. “Someone needs to stay with Shawna and Natasha.”
Laci winced. “Dad put up a lot of money for Shawna’s bail. I promised to watch her.”
George removed his jacket. “You go ahead and search. I’ll stay here.”
No one waited for further debate on the subject. Mars bemoaned the fact that he didn’t have the special leash for Daisy that would give her more freedom to walk where she might smell a kitten.
I fetched the leash I’d given Mars for Christmas that Natasha had tried to regift to me. As we walked out of the house, I explained what had happened. Mars was appalled. “What was she thinking? Vegas, you stay close to me, okay?”
We spread out, walking up to neighbors’ homes, peering behind bushes, calling “Jasper! Alice! Here, kitty, kitty.”
I hoped their light fur would make them easier to spot in the dark, but the snow on the ground quickly extinguished that expectation. Deep in my heart, I knew they could be anywhere by now. In backyards, a block away—anywhere.
After an hour of searching, I heard Vegas shriek and ran in the direction of her cry. Under the Christmas lights of a house across the street from Natasha’s, Daisy proudly carried a kitten by the nape of the neck, like Mochie had.
Mars let her carry the kitten back to our house, where the searchers gathered. Daisy deposited the kitten, its fur matted and wet, in front of the fireplace. Mochie zoomed in to sniff carefully, then took off at top speed running through the house.
Laci picked up the kitten. “It’s Alice. Poor baby. She must be half frozen.”
I brought her a soft towel, and she sat opposite Natasha, near the fireplace, gently drying the little cat.
“Soph, could you make some glühwein?” asked Mars. “I haven’t had it in years, and it would warm us up.”
The spiced wine drink had always been one of his favorites. I poured red wine into a pot, added sugar, heady cinnamon, cardamom, cloves, and slices of zesty lemon. While it warmed, I nuked some milk to make hot chocolate for Vegas and took coffee ice cream out of the freezer to make the next step of the bombe.
It didn’t take long for us to focus on Natasha—and not in a nice way.
Mars eyed Natasha. “I think you’d better explain yourself. I’d like to hear this.”
Natasha sat primly, her hands folded in her lap. “We were at a cocktail party, and a woman was going on and on about her ragdolls and how much she adores them. So I told her about the ragdoll I had as a child. I carried it everywhere—but I meant a doll. A
doll
! How was I supposed to know she was talking about cats?”
After a moment of shocked silence, everyone except Natasha broke into laughter.
“Tom Thorpe overheard the conversation and surprised me with the cats for Christmas. I didn’t know
why
until Sophie’s mother said they were called Ragdolls.”
Mars clapped a hand to his head. “He must think I’m the most rude and ungrateful person in the world for not thanking him. That was a very thoughtful and generous gift.”
I wiped my teary eyes and poured drinks for everyone. “Why did you bring them here?”
Natasha smiled her beauty-pageant smile. “They were a gift! You like cats.”
Baloney!
I wasn’t buying it. “If they were a gift, why did you sneak them into my house? Why didn’t you tell me they were from you?”
She chewed the corner of her lip like a kid who’d been caught lying. “All right! If they live here, they’ll be close enough for me to pick them up and take them to my house when Tom comes over. He called this afternoon to say he would be dropping off some paperwork for Mars, so I came to get them.”
I staggered backward. Natasha had had plenty of outrageous self-serving ideas in the past, but this was beyond anything I could have conceived. The worst part was that she didn’t even seem ashamed.
“I can’t have cats,” she continued. “It’s bad enough having to lock Daisy in a room every other week. There’s still fur everywhere.”
My temper got the better of me. I could feel my face flushing hot. “That’s it. Daisy is not going to your house anymore. Sorry, Mars. It’s horrible to shut her in a room. We’re ending this right now.”
“We certainly are.” Mars’s tone dropped to his angry voice, very controlled but final. “You cannot continue to be the Queen Poobah of Old Town. I’m tired of living in a house where I have to hide all clues to my existence. The TVs are behind screens, my books may not venture out of my study, heaven forbid a magazine land on my nightstand. I’m not even allowed to use my mug that says DOG DAD. We don’t reside in a museum, Natasha. We have Vegas staying with us and we’re going to live like normal people. There will be no locking Daisy anywhere. If Vegas leaves her backpack in the foyer, you will not have a fit. If she doesn’t hang up her clothes, you will not say a word.”
I waited for Natasha’s response. Mars and I had our share of arguments when we were married, but I couldn’t remember him ever being this angry.
“Couldn’t Daisy live here?” whined Natasha. “You could still run with her. I hate having a dog bed in the bedroom. I hate the fur she sheds all over. I have doggie place mats and she still manages to make a mess when she eats.”
It wasn’t easy for me to hear Natasha complain about my beloved Daisy. I didn’t speak up, though, because I was more than willing to have Daisy live with me, instead of splitting custody with Mars. I busied myself slicing the coffee ice cream and pressing the slices on top of the chocolate ice cream already in the bowl.
Mars bent over and hugged Daisy to him. “You knew that Daisy came with me. I’m not giving up anything else, Natasha. Why is it that the things I want are always a nuisance, but you can bring all kinds of ridiculous projects into the house? Here’s a bulletin, I love Daisy—your ever-present topiaries, fussy ribbons, and crafts—not so much. I wouldn’t mind opening the windows and tossing them all.”
It was Natasha’s turn to be aghast. “You wouldn’t!”
“Don’t bet on it. You were willing to regift kittens.”
Natasha fingered the welt on her neck. “I could have died tonight.”
She had a point. I’d almost forgotten. Still she shouldn’t have treated the kittens so shabbily.
A knock at the door rescued Natasha from further blame. Mars opened it, while I put the bombe back into the freezer. Marnie rushed in, pulling off gloves. “Where’s Shawna? Isn’t she here yet?”
“Is that Mom?” Footsteps pounded on the stairs and Shawna flew into the kitchen and her mother’s arms.
“My poor darling.” Marnie held her daughter at arm’s length for a moment. “Let me look at you. Did they hurt you? Was it awful?”
“She’s fine, Mom.” Laci sounded weary, no small surprise given the events of the holiday. Laci gazed around. “Where did Vegas go?”
I peeked into the family room and found her sitting in the dark, except for the lighted Christmas village. “Why so glum?”
“I’m worried about what will happen to Alice and Jasper. They’re just like me,” said Vegas. “Nobody wants them.”
Ouch!
I sat next to her and put an arm around her thin shoulders. “You mean the world to your father.”
“My mom ran off again.”
“She’s done that before?”
Vegas nodded. “They think I don’t know, but I’m not a kid—her phone has been disconnected.”
“Well, honey, we don’t really know what happened. Maybe she couldn’t pay the phone bill.”
“She sent me to spend the holidays with my dad to get rid of me.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. Whatever is going on with her, I bet she loves you a lot.”
“I’m in the way. That’s what’s going on with her. I’m like these kittens that no one wants. Jasper will probably die out in the cold tonight. That could be me.”
“Did you know that Natasha’s dad left her when she was younger than you?”
“Really?”
“Really. She had her mom, though, just like you have your dad. He’ll come home to be with you as soon as he can. In the meantime, you’ll like Mars. He’s a lot of fun. And Daisy will stay with you every other week.”
She leaned against me, and I gave her a reassuring hug. “There are so many people who care about you. Don’t you ever think no one wants you!”
“What about Jasper?”
From the doorway, Laci said, “Instead of a big dinner, why don’t we make sandwiches. That way, we can take turns going out to look for Jasper. C’mon.” In the kitchen, she handed Alice to Vegas.
Alice already looked like a different cat. Her fur had dried and fluffed up, and she watched us with curious bright blue eyes. George, Mars, and Vegas took the first shift searching for Jasper, while Laci and I prepared our sandwich extravaganza.
When we set the potential sandwich ingredients on the island counter—turkey, ham, Brie, sharp white cheddar, mayonnaise, butter, mustard, horseradish, cranberries, lettuce, whole wheat bread, and kaiser rolls—I began to think a formal dinner might have been easier. As it turned out, though, everyone was psyched to make a sandwich with their favorites. The panini maker went into overtime business, but I had little to do other than set out trays of my homemade Christmas cookies. While Laci served the glühwein, I spent a few minutes making the raspberry center of the bombe. Golden egg yolks went into the bowl of my KitchenAid mixer and spun until they were thick and lemon in color. Meanwhile frozen raspberries thawed in a pot on the stove with sugar melting into them. They bubbled and I checked the temperature several times to be sure they were hot enough to cook any salmonella in the egg yolks. Moving fast, I added the raspberries to the spinning egg yolks. When they were fully mixed, I left them to cool and joined the sandwich crowd around the kitchen table. I felt a little bit guilty that Jasper and his whereabouts dominated the conversation when someone had made an attempt on Natasha’s life. She seemed perplexed that she wasn’t the center of attention.
Before I left to search for Jasper again, I stirred Chambord into the cool raspberry mixture, blended it with rich whipped cream, and poured it into the empty center of the bombe. When it was in the freezer, we donned our coats, leaving George to watch Shawna, Marnie, and Natasha, while we ventured outside in search of Jasper.
I planned to look in Natasha’s backyard, but had a hunch Kenner wouldn’t allow it. To bypass a confrontation, I intended to walk around to the back of the house and enter through the alley.
When I walked past the front of Natasha’s house, I saw Kenner wielding a weapon that I recognized.
TWENTY-EIGHT
From
“Ask Natasha”
:
Dear Natasha,
Every year I think I’m organized because I toss wrapping paper, gift bags, and ribbons into big bags. Of course, I paw through them during the year to steal bows, tissue paper, and solid color gift bags, then when Christmas rolls around again, it’s a mess. There has to be a better way.
—Fit to be Tied in Ribbon, Virginia
Dear Fit to be Tied,
Every home should have a wrapping center. Rolls stay put in long shallow drawers, and ribbons look adorable on mounted dowel rods. Scissors, tape, and craft items should all be stashed in readily accessible compartmented drawers. A long counter or table is a must. You’ll enjoy wrapping so much more when you organize!
—Natasha