“Oh, dear.” Elspeth turned back to the pies. “That is disturbing.”

“Sorry to bring bad news. I hope you’re not too upset.”

“Oh, no. I’m fine.” Elspeth handed me the pie, nicely packed in a Tupperware carrier and inside a cloth bag with a carrying strap.

“Thanks. I guess I’d better get home, then.”

Elspeth followed me down the hall and opened the door for me.

I stepped out onto the porch, then turned back to her. “Don’t forget, if you need anything, just give me a call—I’m only across the woods, just a hop, skip and a jump away.”

“Yes, dear,” she said. As I made my way down the steps, she added, “Oh, and Willa?”

I half turned and looked at her over my shoulder. “Yes …?”

“You be careful now … there may be danger about.”

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Pandora’s whiskers twitched as she watched Willa and Elspeth disappear into the kitchen before following the orange tomcat, Tigger, out the cat door to the small barn where the cats usually gathered.

Pandora trotted into the barn behind Tigger. Nine sets of eyes blinked at them in the dark.

“I figured you’d show up eventually,” Otis, the fat calico’s sarcastic voice rang down from atop a tall bale of hay. 

Pandora felt the hairs on her back prickle. She got along well with all the others of her kind, but Otis had been a thorn in her side since the beginning. He was one of the old ones … an ancient feline that had served many humans. Pandora was a newer soul, with new ideas. For some reason, Otis felt threatened by these ideas.

Pandora arched her back and hissed at the calico.

“Now stop it, you two.” Kelley, the Maine Coon swiped her paw in the air between them.

“So, you heard about the trouble brewing from the other side,” Snowball, the fluffy white Persian, purred as she licked her paw.

“Lavinia came to the bookstore and verified her death was no accident,” Pandora started, then paused for attention. She was one of the few cats that could talk to the other side. All eyes were on her and she savored the moment before continuing. “She didn’t see who did it, though.”

The others heaved a collective sigh. 

“So, the evil ones have spilled first blood.” The deep baritone of Inkspot, the twenty-two pound black cat rang out from the back of the barn.

“Do you always have to be so dramatic?” Snowball hissed at him.

Inkspot trotted toward the other cats that had formed a small circle in the middle of the barn and stood in front of Pandora.

“Is it not true?” he asked.

Pandora wrinkled her pink nose, remembering the noxious coppery smell of blood in the library. Her senses, many times more sensitive than humans, could smell it even out on the street that morning. 

“Well, there was a lot of blood …” she said.