The Case of Too Many Clues
The Case
of
Too Many Clues
Also by Cindy Vincent
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Cats Are Part of His Kingdom, Too:
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The Case
of
Too Many Clues
A Buckley and Bogey
Cat Detective Caper
Cindy Vincent
Whodunit Press
Houston
The Case of Too Many Clues
A Buckley and Bogey Cat Detective Caper
All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2019 Cindy W. Vincent
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Whodunit Press
A Division of Mysteries by Vincent, LLC
For information, please contact:
Buckley.CatDetective@mysteriesbyvincent.com
BuckleyandBogey.com
This is a work of fiction. All events, locations, institutions, themes, persons, characters and plot are completely fictional. Any resemblance to places or persons, living or deceased, are of the invention of the author.
ISBN: 978-1-932169-57-7
Printed in the United States of America
Dedication
To all the fantastic foster Moms who give helpless, homeless kittens and cats a fighting chance, including Cindy, Kellie, and Brenda, and most especially, Deb, who saved and fostered our own precious Miss Magnolia Belle. You are love and kindness in action.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
About the Author
CHAPTER 1
Holy Mackerel!
For as long as I live, I don’t think I’ll ever forget that week in August. Hands down, or, um . . . I mean . . . paws down . . . it was one of the strangest weeks that I, Buckley Bergdorf, have ever been through. First of all, we were just wrapping up the last of a long string of big cases. And I don’t mean the good kind of string, either, the kind a guy like me could chase around the house for hours. No, I’m talking about the kind of string that means a whole bunch of things that happen right in a row. For us, it had been one huge case after another after another after another. In fact, the BBCDA — or the Buckley and Bogey Cat Detective Agency — had been so busy that I couldn’t even think straight anymore.
Then, our sweet, twelve-year-old human sister, Gracie, finally convinced our Mom and Dad to let her have a cell phone. She’d been asking them for weeks. She said all her friends had one and she should have one, too. So there it was, in a pretty purple case, and in her hand wherever she went. She even held it whenever she cuddled me.
And if all that wasn’t enough, well, then the strangest thing of all happened — somebody left us a big, giant clue!
Right on our own front porch.
Okay, maybe the clue wasn’t actually all that big or giant. The truth was, it was really kind of small. Even so, it was still important. Very important. And I’ve been a cat detective long enough to know that major clues almost never just showed up out of the blue like that. Especially ones that are placed all nice and neat inside a little glass jar with a shiny black lid. No, when it comes to finding clues, it usually takes us lots of time and lots of work.
But not this time. Instead, somebody saved us a whole bunch of trouble and set that clue right out where we would see it.
Of course, we didn’t exactly know it was a clue at first. My big brother and best friend, Bogart — or “Bogey” as I call him — spotted it before I did. We’d just wrapped up a big confab on our last case when we wandered by the front window in our dining room. By that time, we both needed a change of scenery and a chance to stretch our legs.
Naturally, Bogey glanced out the window the second he walked into the room. Exactly like a good cat detective is supposed to do. And that’s when he saw it, just outside the window on our porch. Pretty close to the front door. The clear glass jar was about as tall as two cans of cat food stacked on top of each other. It didn’t have a smudge on it, and the black lid was almost as shiny as Bogey’s black fur. But oddly enough, the only thing I could see inside that jar was a stack of four little wooden squares. They were the kind that came from a word game I’d seen our Mom and Dad play sometimes. So I already knew that each one of those little squares had a letter on it. I could see the letter G on the top square from where I sat.
And as I stared at that little jar, I couldn’t help but wonder how someone had managed to sneak it onto our front porch. Without us even noticing. I guess we’d just been too wrapped up with wrapping up our last case!
Bogey raised an eyebrow and reached for a bag of cat treats that he kept stashed behind a potted plant. “This is new.”
“The cat treats?” I asked as he passed one to me. They sure tasted like the same fish-flavored treats that he always kept hidden there.
Bogey shook his head. “Nope, kid. I mean that jar sitting pretty on our front porch.”
I put my paw to my chin as I ate my treat. “Well, I guess it is kind of pretty.”
Bogey grinned. “Just an expression, kid. It means it’s in a good spot.”
“Oh . . . okay,” I nodded. “Anyway, I’ve never seen it before, either. And it looks like there’s a piece of paper taped to the lid.”
Bogey passed me another treat and took one for himself. “Probably a message.”
I felt my eyes go wide. “Somebody sure went to a lot of trouble to fold it up so small. And to make it fit on that lid. I wonder what it says.”
“Your guess is as good as mine, kid.” Bogey gave us each another treat before he returned the bag to its hiding place. Then he moved from side to side in front of the window, trying to get a better look at the jar.
That’s when I suddenly realized just how suspicious the whole setup seemed — no matter how we looked at it. And believe me, my brother was taking it in from every angle he could. Even though we run our agency together, he is still the pro and I am stil
l the rookie. But I’ve come a long way since I was adopted into our forever home and Bogey took me under his paw. He taught me how to be a cat detective and, before long, we started the BBCDA on the Internet. Then we got our first case through an email from a cat who was in trouble. Big trouble. That case turned out to be a real doozie, and after we solved it, we got more and more cases. And more. Lately, with business booming, we sure could’ve used a few extra cat detectives on the payroll! We even convinced one of the other cats in our house, Lil Bits, to come out of retirement and lend us a paw.
Because, not only do we crack cases for cats in trouble, but we also solve plenty of mysteries for humans, too. Of course, we only converse with humans by email, so they have no idea that the BBCDA is actually run by a couple of cats! To be honest, they might not be too happy if they found out the truth. That’s because most humans have no clue what cats are capable of. Bogey always says we can use that to our advantage, but I’m still not sure what he means by that.
And I wasn’t sure about that jar on our front porch, either. Just looking at it, I wondered if we were about to end up with another case.
I turned to ask Bogey what he thought, but he answered my question before I even asked it. That’s how good a cat detective the guy was.
“Yup, kid,” he said. “Looks like we’ll have another case on our plate before the day is done. Somebody left that jar out there for a reason. And my gut tells me we’d better find out why. That, or maybe I just need to cut back on the cat treats. Could go either way.” He patted his tummy and grinned.
Well, to be honest, I thought Bogey had been overdoing it a little on the cat treats lately. Probably because we’d been so busy, and he’d been downing treats instead of taking time to eat our good, healthy cat food. The only problem was, I wasn’t sure things were going to get any better any time soon. Not if we were going to take on another case, when we should probably be taking a break.
That is, if we took on another case.
“I wish we could get a better look at that jar,” I told my brother. “It’s only a few inches from us, but we can’t even touch it.”
Bogey scooted closer to the window until his nose was pressed against the glass. “You got that right, kid. We need to see that jar up close and personal. And give those squares the once over.”
“But how?” I asked him.
After all, we were basically housecats. We couldn’t exactly open the door, run outside, and inspect that jar. Sure, Bogey and I are pretty smart, but so far we haven’t figured out a way to open the heavy front door of our old house. And when I say “old,” I do mean old, since the place was well over a hundred years old. In fact, it was one of the oldest houses in all of St. Gertrude, the town where we live.
Yet being a housecat never stopped Bogey from figuring out a way to investigate outside our house. That’s probably just one of the reasons why he’s one of the best cat detectives in the business. I only hoped I could be just as good as he was one day.
To tell you the truth, sometimes I’m pretty amazed at how different Bogey and I are. Sure, we’re both black cats with gold eyes. But that’s as far as it goes. I’m huge and fuzzy with fur that sticks out a mile, since I’m a Maine Coon Cat. And in case you’ve never heard of Maine Coon Cats before, well, let me tell you, we’re gigantic! Enormous, even. I’m only two years old and I’m already twice as big as Bogey. And he’s a full-grown guy!
To top it off, my paws are so large they could double for snowshoes. It seems like they’re always growing, and I barely get used to them before they grow some more. Then I have a really hard time making my paws go where I want them to go. When I want them to go there. Especially since I just had another big growth spurt over the last couple of weeks.
But Bogey never has that problem. He is sleek and lean, and he can run so fast that even some say he can fly. His paws always go where he wants them to go.
Now he stepped back from the front window and grinned. “Cover me, would ya, kid? I’ve got an idea.”
Before I could answer, he turned and raced from the room. He was nothing but a black streak as he flew into the front hallway and past the front door. He didn’t slow down until he reached our Mom’s home office, right across the hall from the dining room.
Of course, I knew exactly what he wanted me to do. I was supposed to keep watch and warn him if any of our humans were headed our way. That’s because the people in our family don’t know that we use the computer. So far, we think it’s probably best to keep them in the dark. Which has been pretty easy, considering we mostly use the computer when the house is dark, and our family is sound asleep. Or when they’re out of the house during the day. But there are times when we have to make exceptions.
And I guess this was one of those times.
Thankfully, our Mom was in the kitchen, since it was her night to cook dinner. Gracie was in the family room, tapping away on her new cell phone. And our Dad hadn’t come home from work yet.
That meant the office and the computer were free.
So Bogey made a beeline for the keyboard and started to type away. Seconds later, he jumped down off the desk. Then we heard Gracie holler to our Mom.
“Mom, how did you do that?” she asked with a giggle. “You sent me an email and you’re not even near your phone. Or your computer.”
I glanced at my brother. “Did you . . .?”
“Yup, kid,” he said with a grin. “I sent the email from our Mom’s account.”
I crinkled my brow. “And it sounds like Gracie got it already. She sure stares at her phone a lot.”
Bogey tilted an ear toward the kitchen. “She’s like a cat with a new toy, kid. You know how it is. You play and play with the thing until the catnip wears off. And then it just ends up under the couch. Collecting dust.”
I nodded. Bogey had a good point. Though these days, we sure didn’t have time to play with any of our toys.
Our Mom answered Gracie from the kitchen. “No, honey, I didn’t send you an email.”
“You didn’t?” Gracie replied, and we could hear her feet padding along the hardwood floor from the family room to the kitchen. “But an email came in that says I should open the front door.”
“That’s strange,” our Mom laughed. “Maybe we’d better go check it out.”
And the next thing we knew, they were headed our way.
Bogey stood at attention. “Get ready, kid. We’ll make our move the minute they open the door. I’ll distract them and you push that jar inside.”
I gulped. “But why do I have to push that jar into the house?”
After all, I wasn’t too excited about going outside all by myself. And I definitely did not want to get locked out for the evening.
Bogey put his paw on my shoulder. “Let’s face it, kid. You’re bigger. And those paws of yours are perfect for the job.”
Well, when he put it like that, how could I refuse? It was nice to know that my big paws came in handy sometimes.
“I’ll do it,” I told my brother.
Then without another word, Bogey and I crowded next to the front door. Our beautiful Mom walked into the entryway first, with her dark, curly hair in a long ponytail. Gracie, who had the same dark hair and eyes, followed behind. I noticed she was holding her cell phone in front of her. She kept looking at it as she followed our Mom to the door.
“Hello, boys,” our Mom said as she reached down to pet Bogey and me. “Looks like you heard someone at the front door. Strange that no one knocked or rang the bell.”
If only she knew just how strange!
She peeked through the peephole and glanced outside. “Well, no one’s there. Maybe someone left a package for us.”
She unlocked the door and glanced at Gracie. “Hang onto the boys, would you, honey? So they don’t get out?”
“Sure thing, Mom.” She put her cell phone in her pocket and wrapped her arms around both me and Bogey.
“We seem to have a problem, kid,” Bogey meowed. “Think you c
an get out of Gracie’s arms to get that jar?” Of course, he switched to cat language, just like us cats always do when humans are around.
“Uh-huh,” I meowed back. “I know just what to do.”
Of course, I usually liked it when Gracie wrapped her arms around me and gave me a nice, big hug. But when you’re a cat detective, sometimes you’ve got to stay focused on the job.
So when our Mom opened the door, I reached up and gave Gracie a big kiss on the nose. She giggled, and I wriggled right out of her grasp.
Then Bogey let out a howl that practically echoed through the whole house, if not down the entire block. He held up his paw and dangled it, like it was limp. Possibly broken.
Our Mom’s eyes went wide and she turned to him. “Oh no, Bogey! Did I step on your paw?”
“Bogey,” I meowed. “Are you hurt?”
“Nope, kid,” he meowed back, just under his breath. “It’s my distraction, remember? Now get that jar inside.”
“Oh, right,” I said before I scrambled out the door.
Bogey followed up his first distraction by flopping over onto his side. He continued to howl and even panted really hard between his cries. Just for effect.
By now, Gracie was petting his head, trying to calm him down. “I’m sure no one stepped on Bogey’s paw. I was just holding him.” She started to check him over, to see where he was hurt. After all, she planned to become a veterinarian one day. And I had to say, she was going to make a very good one.
Our Mom leaned down to check on Bogey, too, while he kept up his act. He was putting on such a show that I could see why he was once hired to be in cat food commercials. A long time ago.
In the meantime, I raced across the front porch and, right away, I wished I hadn’t. Because I’d barely stepped outside when the wind suddenly picked up. It ruffled my fur and sent icy chills running down my spine. In the distance, I spotted big, angry black clouds blowing our way. As near as I could tell, we were in for a very nasty thunderstorm.