Death by Tea Read Online Free PDF Page A

cord whipping my legs behind me. If the intruder so much as laid a finger on my cat, I’d, well, watch as the cat ripped him or her to shreds. Those claws of his should be registered deadly weapons. He could take care of himself.
    Unless the intruder has a gun, of course.
    I stopped at the bedroom door and pressed my ear against it. There were a few more thumps, but I couldn’t tell for sure where they were coming from. I licked my dry lips and then turned the doorknob. I opened the door slowly, knowing it was going to squeal as I did, and sure enough it let out one of those ominous creeeeaaaakkks you hear in scary movies. I winced, and then rushed out, figuring I might as well leap in headfirst, rather than give the intruder time to prepare.
    No one was in the hall. A crash from the living room sent me running that way, flat iron held above my head, ready to smite down whoever dared wake me . . .
    . . . and rushed right into a disaster.
    Misfit was standing between the dining room and living room, back arched, fur standing on end. Chairs were knocked over. My purse lay on the floor, contents strewn across the linoleum. One of the lamps in the living room lay busted on the carpet. The front door was closed, and even from where I stood, I could see that it was still locked.
    My head jerked from side to side, looking for someone, yet it appeared Misfit and I were alone.
    And that is when I saw it.
    Hanging from his fluffy orange tail was a piece of twine. My gaze traveled from Misfit to the counter where I’d left the wrapping after I’d opened Jules and Lance’s gift. The pink paper was lying on the floor, torn into tiny little bits.
    The rest of the twine was nowhere to be seen.
    Misfit’s head jerked back toward his tail. He licked twice, let out an annoyed yowl, and took off toward the couch, where he ran along it sideways, claws tearing, and then around the side, where he vanished behind it.
    I leaned against the wall, heart hammering. “Why did you have to scare me like that?” I asked him. I couldn’t catch my breath. The morning was already warm, and my terror only made it worse. I made my way across the mess of the floor, stepping around large balls of orange and white fur, and opened the front door. I made sure the screen was fully closed before taking a deep breath of fresh air. There was a breeze and it felt good on my skin. I turned to find Misfit sitting in the middle of the room, rapidly licking his backside.
    â€œCome over here, silly,” I told him. “It’s just stuck to you.”
    Misfit gave me a frantic look and then tried to climb the wall.
    â€œStop that!” I rushed over and grabbed him, which was a huge mistake. As soon as my hands landed on him, he turned into a whirling, writhing dervish that was made of nothing but claws and teeth and fur. I yelped and dropped him, arms screaming from at least a dozen scratches. Misfit bolted for the kitchen, running as if his tail were on fire.
    I sucked at an especially deep scratch on my left hand and approached him warily. Misfit was standing in the middle of the room, back arched, tail swishing wildly around him. He was panting, and I could tell the twine was just about driving him crazy.
    â€œIf you’ll just let me help,” I said in as calm a voice as I could manage, “I can make it all better.”
    He glared at me, swished his tail a few times, and then charged at me like a bull.
    I had only an instant to think. He was coming right for me, intent on getting past me— through me if he had to. I dropped to my knees, rapping them hard against the floor, but it was my only shot. Misfit tried to change course, but he was on tile. The fuzz between his toes meant he had little in the way of traction. His feet flailed wildly on the floor and he turned sideways, where he slid directly into me. I latched onto him, tucking him firmly against my chest where he couldn’t move.
    â€œI’ve got