Chapter 90: Chapter Ninety - The Clue in Note Number Two

Later that morning at seven thirty sharp, I zombie-walked into Sunray’s waiting area and flipped the Closed sign to Open. I hadn’t slept any more after coming home from Safe-Mart and my orange bubble conversation with Forever. How could I sleep after that? So this meant I’d only had about five hours of sleep. I didn’t even want to be around me right now. Since it was Saturday though, we closed at noon.

That would be twelve hours before I was supposed to meet Studmuffin’s catnapper.

Boxy pulled into the snowy parking lot then, and once he climbed out of his car and entered through the garage door I opened for him, he folded me into a much-needed hug. “I’d ask how you are, but I already know. Any luck last night?”

“Some. Uh, Boxy, do you mind if I pinch your nose?” I hated to ask since he looked, smelled, and felt like my usual favorite one-eyed secret ninja witch. Fool me twice, though, then shame on me.

“I mean,” Boxy began, pulling away, “I appreciate that you asked before coming at me with your pinchers, but why do you want to?”

I shrugged. “Because it seems like the thing to do after only one cup of coffee that I made?”

Boxy couldn’t hide his grimace. “Oh, right. Studmuffin can’t brew his magic when he’s not here, can he? Tell you what. You can pinch my nose all you want if I can borrow a cup of coffee from you.”

“Yay.” I hugged him again and squeezed him tight. “You don’t even have to borrow it. I’ll let you keep it.”

“Now that’s a bargain deal. I’ll take it. I don’t suppose you have any leftover cake for breakfast?”

“There’s a slice and a half from yesterday. Want to split them?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He went quiet for a moment, then said, “He spoils us, doesn’t he?”

I noted his very deliberate present tense of “spoils” and smiled. Spoils, meaning Studmuffin still does and still will, as long as we all shall live. Just as soon as I got him back.

“He spoils us so rotten, it’s a wonder we still have teeth,” I agreed.

Boxy threw back his head and laughed. “Ha! Speak for yourself!”

“All right,” I said with a chuckle and then reached for his nose. “Ready?”

“Are you kidding? I was born ready.” He leaned in and wiggled his nose so much, I laughed.

I pinched his nose gently and then waited. Waited for what, I had no idea. Something purple, according to Carlotta, but I was already 99.99 percent sure he was really Boxy anyway.

“Did I pass the test?” he asked.

“With flying colors,” I decided. All except purple thankfully.

Boxy whooped and spun in a circle filled with jazz hands and dramatic cane taps on the garage floor.

My laughter turned to wheezes. “Time for cake.”

“And a parade?”

“Sure, why not?”

While he got to work on the cars needing fixing, I scrounged up some clean plates and forks, plus the leftover cake from yesterday as well as a giant cup of coffee for Boxy and another one for me. Then I started the coffee pot all over again.

Yeah, it was definitely going to be one of those days.

When I came back, Boxy, being Boxy, allowed me to pinch his nose again. Every time one of us left to talk to customers and then came back, he’d say, “Pinch me.”

I did and he did the same to me, which would set off a domino effect of honking noises, dancing and jazz hands, and a smile on our customers’ faces as they went about their day.

Did I need to pinch Boxy’s nose so much? Probably not, though it did prevent someone from pretending to be Boxy and running off with our cash register or someone’s fixed car. Mostly I think it made us both feel a bit better about our minus one. I bet it really bothered Boxy to see himself at Sunray’s and again on film with a familiar black cat tail in the corner.

I’d seen myself during my time travels. Definitely a zero out of ten, would not recommend type of experience.

Close to noon, my cell rang.

“We might have something,” a voice that either belonged to Carlitta or Carlotta said without preamble.

My heart went from a putter to an ear-ringing rev. Hope swelled my chest. “Really?” I screeched.

“Come to Kitty City. Bring the…ahem. We’ll be waiting,” one of the twins said and then hung up.

Bring the…ahem. Of course they would need the Ring of Everlasting Night to make a duplicate, but doubt deflated me some. Could I really trust them? Was helping me all an act so they could steal the ring for themselves? After all, they knew of its power. And they’d tried to kill me before.

But I didn’t really have a choice about trusting them, did I? I needed a dupe since I couldn’t hand over the real thing at midnight. That could spell disaster for the whole globe.

No, I had to go to Kitty City. Once I handed over the ring, I’d watch every eye twitch the twins made, every possible sleight of hand to make the ring disappear. I might even bring someone with me.

“Vic.”

I whirled at the note of alarm in Boxy’s voice.

With a trembling hand, and a stack of envelopes in the other, he handed me a piece of paper. “This was on top of today’s mail in the mailbox.”

I took the paper from him, already seeing the ransom-note font through the back with its cutout magazine letters. Everything moved in slow motion, including my hand as I took the letter, the letters on the page, and my eyes as I tried to catch the letters.

“I’ll go check the security footage,” Boxy said and then rushed back to the waiting area.

I nodded while the letters slowly revealed their message:

'Remember when I said tell no one? Who haven’t you told? You’ll pay for this.'

I ignored the very clear threat and skipped back up to the letter T in tell. At the bottom of the cutout letter was a copyright date of this year as well as CE Magazine in teeny-tiny print. The CE part was cut off. Could that be How To Make Ice magazine? Make Your Own Cat Face magazine? Never Again Eat Lettuce magazine?

Whatever the case, it was definitely a clue as to who catnapped my beloved Studmuffin.

A customer stumbled into the waiting area while carrying her giggling toddler. Both were bundled up in their winter gear, and the little boy held fistfuls of snow in each hand.

“Kitty!” the toddler cried and threw his arms out as if to give my missing kitty a squeeze.

“Oh.” The mom’s shoulders drooped when she spied the empty counter usually full of treats. “No cake or coffee today?”

“Sorry, no.” I folded up the ransom note and stuck it in my back pocket. My voice was nothing but confidence when I said, “Definitely on Monday though.”

Time to work on getting my missing kitty back so I could give him a squeeze.