Murder by Page One by Olivia Matthews (read aloud txt) 📗

sofa, petting and whispering my apology over and over. My hope was to comfort him as well as myself. The vet’s diagnosis racked me with guilt: stress.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t know why I didn’t see it myself.” I held him to my shoulder and caressed his back in long, slow strokes.

All the signs had been there for me to see if I’d just paid attention: mood change, weight loss, lack of appetite, lethargy, hiding beneath my bed. Phoenix had been anxious—even more than I’d been—about our move from Brooklyn to Peach Coast. He still was.

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself.” I turned my head, seeking Phoenix’s eyes. “Can you ever forgive me?”

He half-closed his eyes as though to say, Sweetheart, keep petting me, and I’ll forgive you for anything.

I chuckled in response to his expression. It made me feel a little better. Careful to continuing petting him, I rose from the sofa and crossed to the bag I’d left beside the cat carrier. “I need to give you more attention and affection to help you feel comfortable in your new home. I should’ve realized that without the vet having to tell me.”

He purred as though to assure me he wouldn’t hold a grudge.

“Thank you.” I pulled the small lavender-scented pillow from the bag. I’d also purchased cat food, snacks, and an extra toy. “The vet said lavender is the most calming scent for cats, so this pillow should help soothe your anxieties as you get used to our new home.”

Phoenix had probably marked several pieces of furniture in our Brooklyn apartment with his “happy scent,” according to the vet. The scent identified places he was familiar and comfortable with. I hadn’t realized the significance of this. Before we moved, I’d sold our old second-hand pieces and bought second-hand furniture I’d thought was better suited to our new home. My lack of awareness had sent my poor cat into a spiral of confusion, depression, and anxiety. My inattention because of my new job and the investigation had made matters worse.

“That’s going to change.” I had to find a way to help both of my friends in need.

On Friday evening, my phone vibrated in the front pocket of my pants. Asleep on my lap, Phoenix never stirred. The lavender-scented pillow must be working.

Slowly, carefully, I rolled my hips and slipped my right hand into the pocket to free my phone. The screen alerted me that the caller was my mother.

“Hi, Mom.” My greeting was muted.

“Why are we whispering?” The echo behind her voice indicated she had me on speaker phone.

“Phoenix is sleeping on my lap. I don’t want to disturb him.” I rubbed my hand over the length of his side. “I think this might be the best sleep he’s had since we moved here four months ago.”

“Is he sick?” My father’s voice boomed his concern across the line.

I hurriedly lowered the volume on the phone. “No, actually, I took him to the vet today. She said Phoenix is suffering from anxiety and stress. He hasn’t yet adjusted to our new place or new surroundings.”

“Hmmm…” My father’s noncommittal noise was his signature sound. It said everything, but even those closest to him weren’t always certain what that was.

“You seem to be having trouble adjusting too.” My mother’s tone was thick with maternal concern.

In the background, I heard the familiar voices of the local news anchors. A sense of nostalgia washed over me. “I like it here, but there’s a lot to adjust to. I still get homesick from time to time.” Phoenix’s breathing lifted and lowered my right hand as it rested on his side.

“Is there something else bothering you besides Phoenix’s health?” Dad sounded like he’d moved closer to the phone.

Of course my parents would sense something else was weighing on my mind. Our familial bonds were strong. It was comforting to know distance hadn’t changed that. Now the question was, should I tell them I was investigating a homicide? I didn’t want to lie to them; however, I was still suffering the emotional effects of Dre’s reaction to my helping Jo clear her name.

Time to change the subject. “I really miss you both, and Dre, Kay, and Clay.”

“We miss you too.” My parents laughed as they echoed each other. I heard the catch in their throats, an indication they were much more emotional than they wanted me to know.

“Our anniversary won’t be the same without you here,” Mom added.

“Cee, she’s already feeling bad.” Dad’s tone was gently chiding. “Don’t make her feel worse.”

“It’s all right, Dad.” I smiled. “I feel the same way. It’s your fortieth wedding anniversary. I wish I could fly out to be there with you.”

Mom sighed. “We understand. With most new jobs, you have to wait a year before you can use your vacation time.”

“That’s right.” I shrugged off my disappointment.

Of course, Dre and I were planning to videoconference me into the celebration Saturday morning. That wouldn’t be nearly as good as being in the same room with my parents and giving them a real hug, but it would have to do.

My parents and I chatted a few minutes longer before saying good night. Moving in slow motion, I returned my phone to my pocket. Thankfully, Phoenix remained asleep. I transferred him—and his new lavender-scented pillow—from my lap to the sofa cushion beside me. Poor little guy. Either he was exhausted, or that pillow was a stronger calming agent than I’d expected.

After reassuring myself Phoenix was out for the count, I jogged upstairs to my office to retrieve my party decorations. I had a celebration to prepare for.

“Marvey!” Mom’s screech of joy made me wince and laugh. Her image was sharp and clear on my laptop’s monitor Saturday morning.

Phoenix froze on my lap, staring at the screen. His reaction seemed a combination of curiosity and surprise.

“Hi, everyone! Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad.” I waved at the gathering of my family—Mom, Dad, Dre, Kay, and Clay—crowded together in