Devil's Food Cake Murder (Hannah Swensen, #14)(90)

“Okay, so Moishe was pulling out your sweater drawer and jumping inside. How did he get the socks?”

“He went fishing in the sock drawer below.”

“You mean he was snagging them with his claws?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. There was just enough room for him to bring up a sock ball, jump down from my sweater drawer, and run to the kitchen to put it on top of the refrigerator.”

Mike laughed. “The Big Guy’s a real character!”

“I’ll say.”

“So what are you going to do about it? Put your socks in a different drawer?”

“No, I’m going to let him do it. Michelle caught him in the act, and she said he was having a lot of fun doing it. I have to get out my socks every morning anyway, so I’ll just get them from the top of the refrigerator instead of getting them from my sock drawer.”

“Wait a second,” Mike started to frown. “How about that sweater drawer? Didn’t you think something was up when you saw it pulled out?”

“I never saw it pulled out. Moishe closed it after he put the socks on top of the refrigerator.”

“No.” Mike shook his head. “I don’t believe any cat could be smart enough to cover his tracks like that.”

“Well, the sock balls are still appearing on top of the refrigerator and the sweater drawer is closed when I get home from work. I don’t have any other explanation.”

Mike thought about that for a few seconds. “Neither do I,” he finally admitted. “Moishe’s smarter than most of the crooks I catch. And that reminds me…Paul talked more than Pete Nunke’s mynah bird once we got him down to the station.”

“He gave up his partner?” Hannah asked.

“That and more. He told us about three other heists they pulled. Are you going to punish him?”

“Paul?” Hannah looked at him askance.

“No, Moishe. He’s stealing your socks, after all. That’s at least a misdemeanor.”

“It’s not that bad. It’s just a little feline no-no. To tell you the truth, I thought pushing the drawer back in was so clever, I made him a Good Kitty Cake.”

“A who?”

“A Good Kitty Cake, except I probably should have called it a Smart Kitty Cake.”

“How do you make that?”

“It’s just like a three layer cake. There’s ground chicken, ground turkey, and flaked salmon in big patties. You frost it with cream cheese and decorate it with kitty treats. I used the fish-shaped, salmon-flavored kind that Moishe loves.”

“That sounds rich.”

“It is. I can only give him a little bit at a time, but he’s really enjoying it. There’s too much for one cat to eat, so I’ll probably give some to Norman for Cuddles.”

There was a clinking sound, and they looked over to see Doc Knight tapping his champagne glass with a spoon in a bid for attention. When the room was quiet, he cleared his throat.

“It’s my pleasure to introduce the best author in Lake Eden, Delores Swensen, also known as the famous Kathryn Kirkwood. How about a few words, Lori.”

There it was again. Doc had called her mother Lori. Before Hannah had time to think about what possible meaning that could have, her mother began to speak.

“Thank you, Doc. I’m just so grateful to be here on this important day with my friends. I have some wonderful news from my publisher to share with all of you. My first Regency romance, A Match For Melissa, did so well that Kensington is going to publish it as an e-book. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Everyone applauded, including Hannah. Electronic books were becoming very popular and not just with the techno-geek crowd. Grandma Knudson even had an electronic reader. Hannah had seen it on the table in her sitting room.

“My new book, A Season For Samantha, will also be released as an e-book. There’s only one problem with e-books. I can’t autograph them. But you can buy the paperback edition of my newest book from Marge today, and I’ll be happy to autograph it for you.” Delores gestured toward their librarian, Marge Beeseman, who was selling a rapidly dwindling stack of paperbacks at a table near the door.

“Nice sales pitch,” Mike said under his breath, grinning at Hannah as he patted his jacket pocket. “I’ve got mine right here. Have you seen the dedication yet?”

Hannah shook her head. “I’ve been too busy serving refreshments. What does it say?”

“It says …” Mike pulled the book from his pocket and flipped to the dedication page, “This book is dedicated to Doc Knight for so many reasons I can’t list them all.”

“Really! I wonder what that means.”

“So do I. That’s why I brought it up. I asked Michelle and Andrea, but they didn’t know, either. Maybe you should ask your mother.”

“Maybe I will.”

“We were wondering about it, too,” a voice said, and Hannah turned to see a slightly chubby blonde with short hair, round, gold-framed glasses perched on the end of her nose, and a smile that was as wide as all outdoors. She was standing next to a man with reddish-brown hair that was thinning on top and the slender but powerful build of a longdistance runner.

“Hi, Doc Aldrich,” Mike greeted the blonde, and then he turned to the man. “Doc Matson. Glad to see you here.”