Nine Lives Last Forever Read Online Free PDF

would handle the Board’s replacement, and I couldn’t imagine how Monty had landed this position, but, at that particular moment in the conversation, I was far more interested in what creature my cats were chasing at the back of the store—Rupert had bounced down the stairs from the kitchen to join Isabella in the hunt.
    I stretched the cord of the receiver to its furthest uncoiled length, trying to get a better view. I could just make out the orange tips of two furry tails swishing in the air as Dilla continued to rave about Monty’s new appointment.
    “They’ve given him an office in City Hall—that’s why you haven’t seen him around Jackson Square the last couple of days. He’s been settling in, learning the ropes. I understand it’s a really important position.”
    I hardly heard her. My eyes were fixed on the two white streaks of fur thundering laps across the back of the showroom. A moment later, both cats landed with a loud thump on the trapdoor to the basement.
    Dilla regained my attention as her tone suddenly took a more serious turn. “I need you to go visit him, dear,” she coaxed. “To pick up a package for me.”
    I felt my eyelids retract in rebuke to the suggestion; Dilla correctly interpreted the reluctance in my silence. Her voice trembled slightly.
    “It’ll be nice for you to get out of the showroom for an hour or two, won’t it? You can see Monty’s new office. I’m sure he’d love to show it to you.”
    “I can only imagine,” I muttered under my breath before quickly clearing my throat to mask the comment.
    “What’s in the package, Dilla?” I asked with a faint hue of suspicion. Of all people, Dilla was the least likely to pass up an opportunity to visit City Hall, given the off chance that she might run into the Mayor.
    “Oh, it’s not very big at all,” she replied, overtly dodging my question. “It’ll fit right into your pocket.”
    A static of wind or water, it was impossible to tell which, crackled through the phone line.
    “I’m sorry, dear, the line is breaking up. It must be the connection.” Dilla’s voice was barely audible over the roar of what sounded more and more like a waterfall. “Please, as a favor to me. Won’t you?”
    “All right—” I sighed, starting to concede.
    “There’s just one more thing,” Dilla cut in, her words suddenly crystal clear. “Monty’s been acting a bit . . . odd lately. I don’t want you to be surprised when you see him. I’m sure it’s just a phase he’s going through.”
    “Odd?” I asked with growing alarm, sensing, too late, that the fix was in. “Odd in what way?”
    With thick, curlicue locks that bounced like springs off the top of his head and a curious collection of vanity cufflinks, Montgomery Carmichael had been “odd” since the day I met him. You could call him quirky, I guess, if you wanted to be charitable, but he had always been odd.
    Each time Monty wandered into the Green Vase, he greeted me with the same question. “How’s your uncle?” he would ask, a smug, impertinent look on his face. Monty had developed a bizarre and, I believed, irrational theory that Oscar had faked his death and was hiding out somewhere in San Francisco.
    “Still dead,” was my standard reply, usually accompanied by the strong impulse to throw something at him.
    The static returned to the phone line as Dilla signed off. “That’s wonderful, dear. You’ll need to go over there this afternoon. If you can leave in the next couple of minutes, that would be fine. I’ll be in touch soon.”
    And with that, the line went dead, leaving nothing but a droning dial tone in my ear.
    “Great,” I said resignedly to the empty showroom, already dreading this assignment.
    I hung up the receiver and ambled to the back of the store in search of the cats. Whatever they’d been chasing was now long gone. Rupert was flopped sideways on the floor, his legs flung out into a tummy-stretching sprawl. Isabella sat on the floor