A Whisker In The Dark

“The gulls are in good form today I see,” said Marlowe, her luminescent green eyes following Nero’s gaze.

“Let’s hope they discourage some of the diners at the Smugglers Bay Inn.” Nero figured anything that drove customers away from the inn was good for the guesthouse.

“It’s nice and quiet in here now with all the guests gone.” Marlowe trotted to another small patch of sun in the corner and curled into a tight ball, wrapping her tail around her nose.

“Silly of them to run off after shovels, don’t you think?” Nero asked.

Marlowe raised her head. “I suppose so. Humans are always looking for some sort of treasure when all they really need to make life worth living is free. What would they do with it anyway? Probably just spend it on silly material things.”

Nero nodded sagely. “Humans just don’t get it like we do. All we need is a warm meal and a comfortable spot in the sun. Though I do enjoy the gravy cat food and manufactured treats that Josie buys from the store.”

Nero heard a commotion in the foyer.

“Looks like the blissful silence is over. Someone is home.” Marlowe sighed.

Nero’s ears perked up, listening to discover who it was. He couldn’t quite hear what was being said, but he sensed it was the two brothers, Bob and Earl. His whiskers tingled. Something was going on between them and he was sure it was not good. He stood and stretched.

“I think we should take a trot upstairs and see what these humans are up to.”

Marlowe slit one eye open, obviously reluctant to leave her sunny spot. “You think they’re up to something? I have noticed a certain amount of strain between the siblings. Not to mention a tinge of animosity and nefarious thoughts.”

“Indeed. Perhaps this treasure will bind them together.” Nero gestured toward the doorway. Marlowe could be a bit lazy, but skulking around and finding out what the humans were up to was important cat business.

“Or set them at each other’s throats even more.” Marlowe rose, stretching so hard that her back cracked.

“Let’s take the back stairs. I hear them up near their rooms.”

The mansion had several sets of stairs, but the back stairs near the kitchen were Nero’s favorite. The old narrow treads that creaked under human weight were silent when cats ran up them, allowing Nero and Marlowe to sneak around the mansion without being heard. They were covered in layers of white paint so thick that it was almost soft. No human liked to go in the confined space, which made it even more perfect for cats. He and Marlowe trotted up stealthily, spilling out into the jewel-toned oriental runner that ran the length of the second-story hallway where most of the habitable rooms were situated.

Nero was surprised to see Flora standing in the middle of the hallway with a pink feather duster in her hand. She was dusting off a credenza on which sat various knick-knacks that Nero liked to push to the floor every so often. Her head was bent about two inches from the surface so that she could inspect her own work. Poor Flora—even with her coke-bottle glasses, her eyesight wasn’t the best.

Marlowe and Nero exchanged a glance. They’d never seen her so intent on cleaning. Was Flora turning over a new leaf?

They skulked along the perimeter of the hallway, ears cocked and superior hearing senses on alert to overhear what the humans were saying. Nero was a little worried. He’d already suspected the humans were not enamored with each other and now he was concerned the thought of this treasure might cause them to do something crazy. The last thing the guesthouse needed was another scandal. But if such a thing happened, he wasn’t going to fall down on the job like he did last time.

“They’re each in their rooms,” Marlowe whispered. Aiming her ears first toward Earl’s room and then toward Bob’s. “It’s boring when they are quiet.”

No sooner were the words out of Marlowe’s mouth than Bob’s door flew open. He stormed over to Earl’s room, knocking loudly before being let in.

Marlowe turned and looked at Nero, the whiskers over her left eye sticking up slightly. They both glanced at Flora, who hadn’t noticed. She moved on to dusting a plinth that held a marble bust outside of Earl’s room.

Yelling drifted from inside the room. The two men were arguing. Nero strained to listen, and Marlowe followed suit. But the arguing had stopped.

Flora continued dusting. She probably couldn’t hear them since Nero was sure she was also hard of hearing.

Nero pressed closer to the door. He could hear hushed tones, but he couldn’t make out the whole conversation, only snatches.

“… secret book!…”

“… reveal to the rest of them…”

Reveal what? Something in the secret book? Something to do with the treasure?

The door flew open.

Flora jumped back, dropping the duster.

The cats scattered.

Bob stormed out, slammed the door shut and continued to his room.

Flora scowled at him, then shrugged, picked up her feather duster and kept dusting.