Chocolate Cream Pie Murder (Hannah Swensen #24)(54)

“I’ll get it,” Michelle said, heading for the door.

“Hi, Norman,” Michelle greeted him as he came in with Cuddles in her carrier. “Just put her down right here and I’ll go get . . .” Michelle stopped speaking as an orange-and-white striped cat came racing down the hallway. “Never mind. I think Moishe knows that you went to get Cuddles.”

Hannah heard Moishe give the special yowl that was reserved for his favorite kitty friend. “Moishe’s happy!” she called out from the kitchen. “Let her out, Norman. But please wait until I pour another ginger ale for you and get our wineglasses out of the refrigerator. We stuck them there right after you left because we wanted to wait until you got back. Then all three of us can do feet up while Cuddles and Moishe chase each other.”

A few moments later, Hannah and Michelle were seated with Norman on the leather couch in Hannah’s living room. “You were here much faster than I thought you’d be,” Hannah commented, lifting her feet up and motioning to Norman and Michelle to do the same. “Feet up! Here come the cats!”

Pounding feline footfalls thundered down the hallway and Moishe skidded around the corner into the living room, followed a scant second later by Cuddles, who was in hot pursuit.

“Round one,” Michelle said right after the cats had run past them and were making a circle around the perimeter of the kitchen. “We’re safe for a couple of minutes.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Hannah warned, as Michelle placed her wineglass back on the coffee table. “The second lap is about to begin and it’ll be even faster than the first.”

Feline footfalls sounded again, pounding closer and closer against the carpet in the hallway until the cats came thundering into the living room to streak past their upraised feet. The tandem racers disappeared around the back of the couch and sped into the kitchen, where their claws scrabbled against the floor. A second or two later, they zoomed back down the hallway for the second time in as many minutes.

“One more lap?” Michelle asked Norman.

“I think so. Cuddles didn’t look all that tired yet.”

“Neither did Moishe,” Hannah added. “If he’s tired, he always looks at me with his tongue out.”

“That’s a good sign,” Norman agreed. “If Cuddles is in the lead this time around, they’re almost ready to leave the feline speedway.”

Michelle giggled. “I like that, Norman, and it’s true. Hannah’s condo gets turned into a feline speedway when Cuddles comes over to visit.”

With feet up and clutching their glasses, the three of them waited for the thundering duo to come down the hallway. There were several seconds of silence and then they heard the staccato thudding of racing paws.

“Here they come!” Norman said, grinning at Michelle and Hannah. “If we’re lucky, Cuddles will be in the lead this time and that’ll mean it’s the last lap.”

The felines careened around the corner and headed down the straightaway past the couch. Cuddles was, indeed, in the lead, and Moishe was close behind her.

“Is it over?” Michelle asked when the cats had zipped past them.

“I think so,” Norman answered, “but Cuddles’ eyes didn’t look quite wild enough.”

“And Moishe still had plenty of speed,” Hannah commented. “Let’s keep a grip on our glasses just in case.”

Slowly, cautiously, Hannah, Norman, and Michelle lowered their feet to the carpet. They sat there listening for what seemed like long minutes, but was probably only a few seconds. There was no sound from Hannah’s bedroom, and all three of them began to relax.

“I think it’s over,” Michelle said, placing her wineglass back on the coffee table.

“Agreed.” Norman nodded, and he put his soda glass next to Michelle’s glass.

“I’m not so sure,” Hannah said, keeping her wineglass and listening intently for any sound emanating from her bedroom. “Usually I can hear them purring by now. I’m going to give them another minute or two before I put down my glass.”

And then it happened, the pounding of feline feet on the carpet in a mad rush back to the living room. Hannah barely had time to tuck her feet back up on the couch before the cats were rounding the corner again.

“Uh-oh!” Michelle grabbed her glass and executed a maneuver that any yoga instructor would have been proud to see, raising her legs and tucking them under her, hoping that she was in time to avoid a furry feline ankle crash.

“I got it, I think!” Norman grabbed his ginger ale, propped his feet on top of Hannah’s lap, and gave her an apologetic grin. “Sorry, Hannah. I didn’t have time to tuck.”

“No problem,” Hannah said, laughing. “Oh, no! Moishe’s almost skidded into the corner!”

On this last and final lap, the cats screeched past them three times, rounding the back of the couch with claws digging in hard to make the corners and then flying past them. Their fur was ruffled, their ears were laid flat against their heads, and their tails were straight out behind them. It was a game and they knew it, but they were acting as if they were racing for their lives.

“Are they done?” Michelle asked as the cats headed back down the hallway to the bedroom.

“Listen,” Hannah advised, holding her finger to her lips.