Page 75 of Death and Do-Overs

I nodded. “The one who locked her mom in a shed and magically controlled the entire neighborhood.”

“And now Noodles is her mom’s friend,” Imogen said. “That’s the name of the devious cat-fox—Noodles McDoodles Butterbelly.”

I had no idea how Rose’s mom could forgive Noodles.

Imogen typed back a response to Rose.

Imogen:It’s too blurry to tell if it’s a fox or a cat or a balled-up sweater.

Rose:I’m calling my mom.

Probably to make sure the cat-fox was home in Pennsylvania, and not here in Nevermore, New Jersey.

“That reads like one sibling tattling on another,” Greta said.

It did, which probably wasn’t far from Rose’s intention if in fact there was a possibility that the creature was here in Nevermore.

Was Rose’s relationship to the cat-fox now like they were siblings? It lived with Rose’s mother. Did Rose’s mother treat the cat-fox like it was her child?

I needed to stop this line of thinking. Their relationship was irrelevant to the situation at hand.

“Is Noodles a murderer?” I asked.

“I don’t remember hearing that specifically,” Imogen said.

“Locking a person in a shed and leaving them to rot is worse than killing them,” Greta said.

She was right. But what would Noodles have to gain by coming to Nevermore?

“Did Wendy ever tell you what the deal is with Guy Jones?” I asked Imogen.

“Oh, no, I forgot to ask,” Imogen said. “Do you want me to ask her now while we wait for Rose?”

I pulled out my own phone and gave it a little wiggle. “Easier if I do it.”

Imogen smiled.

Me:Wendy, I don’t remember Guy Jones or his tantrum. Can you remind me what happened?

Wendy:Hey, Marnie!

Me:It’s Mar.

Wendy:Got it. I hope you’re holding up okay.

I wasn’t sure what to say to that.

Wendy:So, Guy Jones. He came in looking to adopt a cat. You processed his application and found a previous neglect report.

Wendy:When you told him he’d been denied, he threw himself against the cat room’s glass wall.

Recognition sparked. It happened in January or February. I specifically remembered Guy’s lack of eyebrows.

Me:He slid down flailing his arms and sobbing “why me, why always me?”

Wendy:Yes!

Imogen:I feel kind of sorry for him, now.

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