Courting the Cat Whisperer Read online

  His expression darkened for a moment. Then he fixed her with a look of pure pity. “You’re much more interesting than I am. Animals don’t confide in me.”

  Perhaps she’d told him too much. He probably thought she was mentally ill because she spoke to the cats. Supernaturals in Nocturne Falls weren’t supposed to tell non-supes about their gifts, but she felt compelled to prove to Harry that she wasn’t making up stories. She didn’t imagine that animals spoke to her. Aw, heck. If he lived in Nocturne Falls, he had to be used to strange characters. “I can tell that you don’t believe me. I can prove it, though.”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “Is that right? How would that work?”

  “Milo, Rosin,” she called out. “Come here, kitties.”

  A moment later, both felines walked into the study and looked up at her. What’s up? Milo asked.

  We were catnapping, Rosin said.

  Harry chuckled. “Lots of cats come when you call them. So does mine.”

  “That wasn’t the proof I was referring to,” she said. “I’ll go to the other end of the house, or outside if you prefer. Then you tell the cats something.”

  “Like what?”

  She glanced into the box she’d been packing. “How about you pick out a couple of books and read the titles to them? They can tell me which ones you chose. Will that be proof enough?”

  He scrubbed a hand over his chin. “It’d be a better test if I gave them random facts.”

  “Fine.”

  He poked a finger at her. “And even better if I made sure you didn’t hear me.”

  “Not a problem.”

  He crossed the room to the stereo and turned it on. “Have a seat.”

  She marched over and sat on a leather chair.

  Harry raised the volume on the New Orleans-style jazz music. “Just to make sure…” He plugged in a set of headphones, checking them by holding them to his ears. “Perfect.”

  “Whatever.”

  Before putting the headphones on her, he tucked her hair behind her ears. The intimate contact sent a pleasant shiver over her skin. The music blared. “Okay, she shouted. I feel like I’m at a concert.”

  He ushered the cats from the room.

  As she waited, she looked out the window. Big, billowy clouds floated past. The news had said it was going to rain today. The forecasters were wrong a lot of the time, though.

  Something touched her shoulder. She jumped off the chair, heart pounding.

  Harry backed away from her, hands raised in surrender.

  Pulling off the headphones, she drew a deep breath to slow her pounding heart. “You scared me.”

  He shut off the stereo. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  Milo climbed onto the chair Jordan had just vacated and curled up there. Rosin head-bumped Harry’s knee.

  “What’d Harry tell you, guys?” she asked the cats.

  He said he was wearing a flannel shirt and khaki pants when he woke up, Rosin said. And that he thinks you’re pretty.

  Warmth settled in her belly. “Really?”

  “What?” Harry asked.

  “Hang on a sec.” She looked at Milo. “Anything else?”

  You have gorgeous hair, Milo said.

  And an adorable backside,” Rosin added.

  Laughing, she faced Harry and took in his cotton work shirt. “You told them you were wearing a flannel shirt and khaki pants. Strange choice for sleepwear.”

  His face fell.

  She moved in closer for the kill. “And thanks for the compliments.”

  Harry’s eyebrows shot higher.

  Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she winked at him. “You think I’m pretty, hmm? Particularly my hair…and my backside.”

  Red-faced, he practically fell into a chair. “How…?”

  “Telepathy,” she offered. “Sadly, my gift only extends to animals.”

  Harry remained silent for almost a minute. “I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it for myself. Can your twin talk to animals, too?”

  She shook her head. “Mallory’s gift is reading tarot cards. We’re both psychic to some degree, just in different ways.”

  “And your parents?”

  “Our powers come from Mom’s side.”

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Forgive me if I’m asking too many questions. I’m trying to get my bearings here. I never imagined that telepathy was real.”

  That was understandable. She’d blown up the universe as he knew it. He needed time to process that.

  When he didn’t say anything for several moments, she rubbed her palms together. “I have an idea. I spotted a can of loose-leaf tea in the pantry, the same kind my grandma had. You want some?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, he shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

  In the kitchen, she rummaged through the drawers until she found a mesh tea strainer. She set the old-fashioned kettle on a burner as Harry got two mugs down from a high shelf. Then they sat at the table and waited for the water to boil.

  Jordan glanced around the room at the spaces where Harry had already removed most of the cabinets. “You’ve been busy in here.”

  “Demolition goes quickly. It’s the refurbishment that takes longer.” He moved the sugar bowl to the center of the table. “Were you and your twin sister ever close?”

  Thinking about the question, she nodded. “We are now. Well, closer than we used to be.”

  “So you talked to cats because you couldn’t confide in her?”

  Was he trying to psychoanalyze her? But if that was what it took to draw him out, why not? “You know how books and TV shows have good cop, bad cop scenarios?”

  “Sure.”

  She loaded tea leaves into the strainer then hooked it on the edge of a white ceramic teapot. “Mallory and I played good twin, bad twin.”

  He laughed. “Okay.”

  When the kettle whistled, she went to get it. “What about you? Did you have anyone you confided in?” She poured the water into the pot.

  “I have no idea. I can’t remember anything from my childhood.”

  Lots of people said that they had no memories before a certain age—usually four or five. She sensed that it was a sensitive subject for him. Could he have experienced a trauma that had caused him to forget his whole early life? Perhaps talking about it would help. “What do you remember?”

  His lips flattened. “I have no memory at all. Four years ago I woke up in the woods. I had no clue who I was.”

  She stopped what she was doing. “Seriously? Like you had amnesia?”

  “Exactly. I still do. When I told the cats what I was wearing when I woke up, I didn’t mean this morning. I was speaking of the clothes I had on when I first came to, four years ago.”

  Whoa. “Have you tried to find your family?”

  He shook his head and poured them each a cup of tea. “I checked a ton of online message boards that list missing persons, but I never found any pictures of myself. I have no clue what my real name is. Harry Hill was something I just adopted.”

  The poor guy didn’t have a past or a family, and she’d been complaining about her sister. She couldn’t imagine not having a twin, or parents, or at least, now knowing who they were. Her chest squeezed. “The not knowing would drive me crazy.”

  “It does. In this case, though, maybe ignorance is bliss.” He stirred sugar into his tea. “I was in bad shape when I woke up. I had cuts and bruises, and my clothes were filthy and torn. There’s got to be a reason that no one’s reported me missing. What if I’d been in trouble with the law? Maybe the man I used to be was someone better forgotten.”

  “I doubt that.” Anything was possible, though. Sipping her tea, she thought back to the kidnapping last year. The experience had been so terrifying that it had taken her months to trust anyone. And here she was now, alone in a house with a guy who very
well could be an escaped convict or a mobster. Or a kidnapper. She gulped then got up and set her cup in the sink. “I think I’m going to read for a while. Or lie down. I’m kind of sleepy.” Backing out of the kitchen, she faked a yawn. “See ya.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll let you know when I’m leaving for the day.”

  “No, that’s all right. I might be napping.” With that, she hurried up to her room and locked herself inside. She set her laptop on the bed then dug in her purse for the can of pepper spray she’d started carrying with her since the kidnapping.

  Chances were that Harry was just a regular guy, but she couldn’t be sure. Soon enough, he’d go home. Until then, she’d hang out with a game of computer solitaire. Better to play it safe and assume the worst about him.

  Too bad, because he was kind of cute. With her history of making terrible choices when it came to men, she had no business even considering dating Harry.

  Harry packed up his tools at five pm. He hadn’t heard a peep from Jordan’s room for the past hour. Not that he could blame her for hiding out from him. He’d probably freaked her out by sharing too much about his past, or the lack thereof. Of course, he was pretty freaked out about her powers of telepathy. It wasn’t every day you learned that there was such a thing as psychic powers.

  Strangely, that knowledge didn’t make her any less attractive. On the contrary. Now he knew she wasn’t off balance, as he’d suspected. He was more intrigued than he had been before she’d proved herself to him.

  Didn’t matter. He was in no position to take up with a woman—even a smart, gorgeous one who happened to be telepathic.

  Heck, for all he knew, he might have a wife somewhere. Although he hoped not. He hated to think that he might have caused anyone pain, even if it wasn’t his fault.

  When he’d first arrived in Nocturne Falls, he hadn’t been wearing a wedding band, nor did his ring finger bear the indentation or tan line as he’d seen on married people. If he’d had a wife in the past, she’d surely have reported him missing. Even if he was single, he was a man without a past. In good conscience, how could he go out with a woman when he couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t the sort of man with whom she’d be safe?

  He drove the short trip to his house. The second he opened the door, Kitty was all over him, sniffing his boots like a bloodhound. “I promise, I wasn’t cheating on you. A bunch of cats live at the house where I’m working.” Picking her up, he nuzzled her silky head. “You’re the only one for me.”

  The cat purred loudly.

  Harry set her down so he could get her dinner. After he’d filled her bowl, he fixed himself a plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes left over from the night before. And just as he did most evenings, he sat on his recliner and ate supper in front of the television.

  Tonight though, his thoughts kept wandering. He couldn’t get Jordan off his mind. From those sparkling blue eyes to her long, silky hair, she was the prettiest woman he’d seen in…as far back as he could remember. And she had a gift he’d never imagined possible. She’d probably be able to have a conversation with his cat.

  As if Kitty had known he’d been thinking about her, the cat sat down next to his chair and trilled.

  He petted the top of her head. “I wonder what you’d tell me if you could.” The feline had been with him since the moment he’d awakened in the woods. And maybe even before then.

  Gasping, he set aside his plate and stared down at the cat. If Jordan could communicate with the Tuckers' pets, why not his? The key to his past might have been living in his house, and sleeping at his feet all this time.

  He paced the living room, scratching his head. Would it be rude to ask a woman he barely knew to help him figure out his identity? What if he learned that he was a thief, a drug dealer, or worse? Sometimes ignorance was bliss. If he never found out who he was, he could keep living this life he’d made here in Nocturne Falls.

  It wasn’t so bad. He’d built a successful carpentry business, rented this house, and worked in his garden on his one day off each week. Did he really want to upset that apple cart?

  Returning to his chair, he finished his dinner. When he realized he had no idea what he’d just watched on TV, he shut off the set. The more he thought about Jordan’s gift, the more the idea grew on him of having her try to speak to Kitty. His pulse raced at the notion of learning who he was.

  Thunder rumbled outside. The lights flickered. Would Jordan be nervous all alone in a strange house? He considered driving over there to check on her. If he did, he could also run his idea past her of having her pick his cat’s brain. With a glance at the clock, he realized it was too late to just show up at the Tuckers’ place unannounced. That would surely frighten her. Too bad he didn’t have her number. But she had a business, so she was probably listed online.

  It only took him a minute to locate Jordan’s pet sitting company’s Facebook page. He tried her number and went to voicemail. She’d probably gone to bed by now.

  Somehow, he’d have to wait until morning to speak with her. He had no doubt that he wouldn’t be able to sleep, not with the prospect of finding out who he was so close at hand.

  Chapter Four

  As Jordan changed into her pajamas, she wondered if she’d made a mistake by telling Harry about her gift. There was an unspoken policy in the town of keeping the non-supes blissfully ignorant of the fact that so many of the residents weren’t completely human, or at least had supernatural powers. As long as Harry didn’t go blabbing what he now knew to other normies, it should be okay.

  The door to her room creaked open. She sucked in a breath but relaxed when Theo pushed through. “You scared me, Theo.”

  Sorry. The tabby jumped onto the window seat. I want a treat.

  Stepping into her bunny slippers, Jordan grabbed her cell. “Okay, come on.” On the way to the kitchen, she noticed a missed call on her phone, which reminded her that the battery was super low. She couldn’t remember where she’d stashed her charger, but she’d find it after she got the cat his treat.

  Theo weaved in front of her, making sure that she didn’t go anywhere except the kitchen. Milo, Rosin, and Rorschach joined the procession, all meowing at her.

  We want some, too, Rorschach implored.

  “You have to let me walk, guys,” she told them.

  After giving each cat a few treats, she searched the freezer until she found a pint of ice cream. Mrs. Tucker had told her to help herself to the food they’d left, so she fixed herself a sundae then headed to the study. The only interesting thing she could find on TV was an old vampire flick. So she settled into the velvet sofa with the cats to watch it. On the screen, Bela Lugosi dramatically descended a gothic-looking staircase.

  Milo kept trying to steal a bite of her ice cream.

  “Quit that.” She moved it out of his reach. “You already had yours.”

  Outside, the wind howled. Lightning flashed, illuminating the darkened room. Something scraped against the house. All the cats sat up in unison.

  “It’s only the storm,” she assured them. Growing up in south Florida with frequent hurricanes had given her a healthy fear of mother nature. A boom of thunder rattled the windows. The power went out. Riding out a bad storm alone in a strange house in the dark seemed about as much fun as being waterboarded. Jordan waited, offering up a prayer that the lights would come back on.

  A distant memory came to mind.

  She and Mallory were only four or five years old. A terrible storm raged outside. They’d lost power. Everything was pitch black and as loud as a train. Jordan held her hands over her ears. “I’m scared, Mal,” Jordan cried.

  “Mallory,” their mother shouted. “Where are you?”

  Jordan waited for their mom to call her name.

  “Take my hand,” Mom said.

  Jordan reached for her twin.

  “Good girl.” Their mom picked up Mallory and started down the stairs.

  “Mommy!” Jordan shr
ieked. “Don’t leave me.”

  “I’ll come back for you,” she shouted. “I promise.”

  Jordan curled up in a ball. Minutes felt like hours as she waited, alone, terrified, abandoned.

  Years later, when she’d asked her mother why she’d taken Mallory first that night—why Mal always seemed to come before Jordan—her mom had waved off the question. But Jordan knew. Mallory was their parents’ golden child, Miss Perfect. And the reason they let Jordan get away with everything. Each time Jordan pushed the envelope, disobeyed their rules, they never punished her because they expected less from her.

  She shook off the memory.

  “Where do they keep the flashlights and candles?” she asked the cats.

  In a kitchen drawer, Rosin supplied.

  She hadn’t remembered to charge her phone. Darn it! Hoping for the best, she turned on the flashlight app. After only a moment her cell died. She couldn’t see a thing as she made her way toward the kitchen.

  Watch out, Rorschach warned.

  Too late. She stubbed her toe on a furniture leg. The pain stopped her in her tracks. “Ouchie!”

  A blue streak lit up the room for a split second. Out of the corner of her eye, Jordan could have sworn that she saw a shadow move past the window, one that looked like a person. A chill slithered up her spine.

  Only my imagination, she assured herself. Still, her heart pounded against her ribs. She limped the rest of the way to the kitchen and frantically pulled open drawers, searching for a flashlight.

  Somebody’s outside, Theo told her. A stranger.

  Jordan gasped. The terrifying memory of her kidnapping flashed through her mind.

  Glass shattered nearby. Then someone jiggled the kitchen doorknob.

  She stifled a scream. Her legs felt leaden, but she forced herself to move. Quietly as she could, she hurried from the room. Why had she left her pepper spray upstairs in her purse? It was all she could think of to protect herself. When she was halfway up the staircase, she heard the distinctive creak of the floorboards in the foyer.

  Her blood ran hot with panic. The intruder was there, less than ten feet away. All she could hear was the thump, thump, thump of her heartbeat. Finally, she made it to her room and locked herself inside. Fishing in her purse, she closed her trembling fingers around the can of pepper spray.