“Well, since your ghost beanbag is safe and sound, I guess the feline terrorist didn’t succeed in the assassination,” she told her sister and then nodded toward Montmart. “That means we can leave.”
“Stop laughing at me.” Jennifer spat out the words, even though Sam wasn’t the one who was laughing.
Montmart, a true detective, took this opportunity before a sisterly battle ensued to ask questions. “Excuse me, Jennifer, but it seems a bit silly to me. With all the cats your mother has, don’t any of them touch your toys?”
“They’re not toys; they’re collectibles. And, no, I’ve trained all the cats to leave my belongings alone. When that gray animal appeared, I was furious.”
Sam winced at her sister’s terminology. “Appeared” was the operative word. Because she didn’t want to witness any othe
