Kittens & Kilts

Kittens

&

Kilts

Miss Kitty Mystery 3

Sara Tiger Ryan

Fantasy Mystery

All characters herein are fictional.

Author’s Note:

Dedicated to:

Lois

Thanks to Pete & Lois for

all the encouragement!

A big thank you to my Mom for all her hard work

editing my books. (Any remaining mistakes are all mine.)

Copyright Sara Tiger Ryan, Tiger Moon Press. Smashwords Edition May 21, 2105

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book, and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting this author’s work.

Table Of Contents

Chapter 1: Free Kittens To Good Homes

Chapter 2: Portals & Papers

Chapter 3: Wrong Moves

Chapter 4: Dancers In Kilts

Chapter 5: A Friend

Chapter 6: The Jaddington Exotic Cat Show

Chapter 7: Suspects & Clues

Chapter 8: Unexpected Visitor

Chapter 9: Bits & Pieces

Chapter 10: Now It’s Serious

Chapter 11: A Confusion of Dogs

Chapter 12: The Royal Maiden Ball

Chapter 13: A Heart Punch

Chapter 14: A Dog In Disguise

Chapter 15: One Kitten To A Good Home

Chapter 16: Drawing Woes

Chapter 17: Cousin Magic

Chapter 18: Pretty Pet Papers

Chapter 19: In The Dog House

Chapter 20: Even More Cats

Chapter 21: The Trial

About Sara

Miss Kitty Mysteries

A List of My Books

The First Chapter of Havoc & Hussies

Conyor Ness

1896

All the Fates Entire, 3

Elder Fates Entire, 1

SkittersDelightday

Chapter 1

Free Kittens To Good Homes

‘Free Kittens To Good Homes.

Inquire Five Whippet West,

Miss Kitty’s Private Spy Agency,

daytimes.’

Inquiries will be investigated, Dusty said from behind her right shoulder. Sazzy made a protesting noise, but wrote that line at the end of her pendin-g hail to go in tomorrow’s edition of the Crier. Four into-everything, half-grown kittens just caused too much havoc in their supposed-to-be-serious private spy offices. They needed to get back to just one cat, Miss Kitty.

Dusty finished pulling on his ugly, dun-colored, many-pocketed tinker’s coat. I have errands. Do you want me to deliver the hail to the Crier?

She handed him the hail and he headed out, calling back over his shoulder, Don’t turn any paying customers away. I’ll get dinner from Edgy on my way back.

Sazzy checked her window for the time of day: yes, about a wizardmark shy of dusk and dinner time. What had happened to her day? She pulled her calendar and list of current cases out from under the book of Raisayne’s illustrations of the Fates Entire. All right, so a good part of her day had gone to marveling over Raisayne’s artwork and worrying about a certain Younger Sinister Fate (depicted far too accurately by Raisayne on page 57) who liked to meddle in her life.

She had two current cases: neither new, neither interesting. Sazzy picked up her wizardwriter and the writing implement flew out of her hand. She sent an exasperated look after it, but let it lie...next to the paper weight that had leapt from between her fingers earlier, and her file on her last case. Brown-and-Brackett’s (that she should have filed weeks ago) that had swooped off her desk this morning, propelled by her errant elbow.

First leftover case: her old, going nowhere Case of The Randomly Vandalized Trader, which had, so far involved stakeouts in the cold—which had yielded nothing. Talking to the nearby shopkeepers hadn’t turned up any clues either. If only she could discover a pattern to the previous break-ins . . . other than none recently—probably because it had been too cold and snowy for the last month or so.

Next leftover case: The Case of the Prodigal Daughter and Missing Heirloom Bracelet, with the sketch of the daughter that looked like Molly Lyy’s youngest granddaughter so must have really been another of Molly’s ploys to keep her from investigating Brown and Brackett. How could she have chosen a twenty-person killer as a mentor? How had she never guessed before? She and Vivalda had played in the body-holding-cellar when they’d been young.

Sazzy reached for her second favorite wizardwriter. It rolled up against Raisayne’s book...which weighed too much to fly off her desk when she bumped it. Brown and Brackett had been copying Raisayne’s book the night they had died... No, she didn’t want a portrait of the Youngest Sinister Fate staring at her from her wall.

If it took a whole afternoon to get a fuzzy image of a sleeping kitten out of Nell’s Magic Book Copying Machine, how long would it take to print a page of Dusty’s manuscript?

Catching up one of the old pages of Dusty’s manuscript left on her desk from one of his edits, Sazzy brought the page to the meeting room where the book copier sat on the back sideboard. The page would go where the kitten had slept. She returned to her desk for a blank piece of paper, brought that to the meeting room, aimed the machine’s mirrors, remembered they had found new magnifier crystals in Brown’s safe and got those.

Maybe the old magnifier crystals could be recharged like old wizard globes could. She carried those crystals to her office and set them on her desk, stoked her firepot to burn hotter, sat, and stood again.

What she needed was a hot mug of shalaka with plenty of sugar.

Sazzy pulled out the box of fine Ravelin shalaka her favorite brother Dandy had given her for Winter Deep and couldn’t remember how much to use. Maybe half sugar and half shalaka. Molly must really hate her—but she couldn’t have left a twenty-person killer to keep killing . . . especially since Molly’s next victims would have been Prince Lyzan, with her and Dusty not far behind.

Her stomach growled distracting her from her musings and she checked the time out the window. Either dusk was settling in or another storm. Her stomach voted for dusk and Edgy bringing dinner—meaning their usual company ought to start arriving soon. She set the shalaka box down and headed for the hallway, via her office, to see if anyone had arrived yet.

A late beam of sunlight, caught in one of the old magnifier crystals, speared a flash of light into her eyes. Right, she had meant to wrap them so they wouldn’t break on the way to the Brighter’s. Sazzy sat at her desk and pulled the top page on her boring Randomly Vandalized Trader case down and stared at the pages without any of the words making sense.

Hello? an unfamiliar, deep and melodious male voice called from just outside her hall doorway.

In here. Sazzy looked up and held her breath a few seconds, not saying something she might regret. No, the man, despite he rivaled Raisayne’s depiction of the Youngest Fair Fate for looks, appeared mortal. His long, wavy blond hair tumbled around his shoulders and long dark lashes shaded his jade green eyes. Or maybe he reminded her of Dusty’s current fancy, Janji Dask. He might be a player—since he wore a kilt of cream, summer blue, and butter yellow in a scale pattern. Below the kilt, he had dimpled knees and nice legs encased in decoratively cut summer blue leather, front-laced boots. Sazzy remembered what she had intended to say before seeing him. May I help you?

Miss Kitty?

Sazzy Jinn.

Miss Kitty, hearing her name peered through the slanted door that joined her office with Dusty’s. ‘Meow?’

The man glanced at Miss Kitty, sat in her client chair, leaned forward and held his fingers out. Miss Kitty and all four of her kittens came to check out the probable rubs. The man laughed—a warm, low, sexy sound.

Sazzy sat back and pulled her notebook down, putting it between them—in case this hunk turned out to be a client not just an incredibly sexy cat lover.

Do they all have names?

She named them and paused. You aren’t here about the kittens. No, he couldn’t be, the hail wouldn’t start until tomorrow morning.

"No, I’m, here about my cat."

Not Miss Kitty. Miss Kitty had come with the office, but she would be loathe to part with her after so long.

No. He sounded amused. He gave each cat a last rub, then sat up. The ginger and cream striped kitten, Intrepid, immediately climbed the chair arm and settled in the man’s lap, pulling the kilt up some. But not enough. Sazzy turned her wayward eyes to the notebook in front of her and doodled a kitten, waiting to see if the man would elaborate the ‘no’ or she’d have to pry the reason for his visit out of him. She had till tomorrow morning and he made a nice office decoration.

My cat is a show cat, a Long-Haired Logan Snow Cat, white with silver frosting, almost twenty pounds. She’s missing.

A missing cat case? Dusty hadn’t yet solved his missing Logan Draft Hound case. Neither one of them had a talent to Seek creatures. She could find the Prince, shaped, by his earring, though. Does it have a collar? She paused, remembering the caravans put earrings on their cats. Or an earring?

Silence.

She looked up. The fine-chiseled face had set in a frown. Why? And she’d forgotten the routine she and Dusty had created to make sure they didn’t end up with another Lying and Illusioned Taefalla type client. Or another Not Heartbroken After All Hussy Case. First, to clarify: You want Miss Kitty’s Private Spy Agency to find your cat?

The frown deepened and the man started to stand. Obviously Jammie was mistaken.

Jammie?

My twin, Janji, Dusty’s current fancy, said from her doorway. Kirian Morningstar, how’s it going?

Someone stole Joyous Delight.

I thought—From the show?

While I was coaxing Heart into her carrier. I turned back and— Kirian stopped and swallowed hard. Jammie said your sweetie takes missing pet cases.

He’s hunting a Logan Draft Hound—unfound as yet, Janji answered, leaning in the doorway. Janji glanced at her questioningly.

I can Seek the cat if it’s wearing..., some object.

Janji glanced back over his shoulder. It smells like Edgy just brought dinner in. Dusty isn’t here?

He went on errands. You’re the first to arrive.

Isn’t anybody hungry? Edgy called out.

I am, Dusty answered from the foyer.

When Dusty paused in the doorway, Kirian stood and Dusty favored the man with as long and as appreciative a look as she had.

Nice kilt, Dusty said.

Kirian colored lightly. I came directly from the show.

What Dusty means to say, Janji interjected, is: nice kilt, nice legs. nice body, nice everything he can see. Kirian is part Coefae; he can’t help being scrumptious looking—any more than I can.

Yes, Kirian definitely looked part Coefae, the Race of Legend renown for Beauty and Love.

Dusty laughed, hugged Janji to his side and kissed him, then invited Kirian to eat with them.

I ought to go home and feed the cats.

Bring them goodies home and they’ll forgive you, Janji said.

Don’t you be giving all my hard work away to creatures, Edgy scolded, even as she tossed Miss Kitty a tidbit from the platter.

Is anyone here?

Back here, old golden rug, Sazzy answered the Prince.

Prince Lyzan came in with their city guard friend, Paff.

I’m outnumbered, Sazzy muttered, starting toward the meeting room and the table large enough to hold them all .

Janji caught her and hugged her briefly to his side, But ain’t it wonderful?

I need you to go to a party with me, the Prince said, coming up behind her as she reached the meeting room doorway.

No one has parties this early in spring, she argued.

Mum is inviting a horde of lovely young things for me to meet and, she hopes, instantly produce her some charming, quiet, well-behaved grandchildren.

Now that will be a feat, Janji teased. Any of those things.