Hank smirked a little. “You gave them a piece of your mind, did you?”
“Maybe a little. Okay, maybe a lot. But you know how it is, Hank. Divine is your baby. This is my baby.”
“I understand, but now you know Violet’s Emporium is in good hands when you treat yourself to a weekend away. You’ve earned it, judging from what I saw today.”
“I cut the weekend short. I—”
Her words were interrupted by the most mournful feline howl she’d ever heard. Tex went on for several seconds as Hank shook his head.
“I did my best trying to get to him, but he wedged himself back there pretty good. There’s no blood, and Lizzy said she saw him run past on all four feet. I think he’s just scared. I probably should’ve done more to see to him…”
Violet stopped Hank with a hand on his forearm. “You had several other similar disturbances to see to. I’m sure I can handle whatever is wrong with him.”
“I can call Wyatt’s brother if you need him. Got him on speed dial.”
“Me, too,” she replied with a chuckle. Tex had gotten himself into a brawl with another even larger tomcat earlier in the winter and needed a vet’s attention. After that, she’d put his number in her phone contacts.
Tex loosed another series of pathetic, doleful howls as they entered her office in the rear of the store, behind where the original bookshop had been. The overlarge ginger feline sounded as if his world was at an end as she whispered to him and made kissy noises to coax him out.
Hank pointed to the boxes silently, and she nodded to him. One by one he moved them out of the way, and although Tex kept up his caterwauling, he didn’t sound as though he was agitated or in pain, just loud.
She bit her lip to keep from laughing, and Hank gave her a quizzical look as he slid the file cabinet, and all the debris piled haphazardly on top of it, away from the wall, revealing her cat lying stretched out on his back, all four paws stuck in the air.
“What is all of that?” Hank asked as he stroked a tentative fingertip along Tex’s tail, which was coated—along with the rest of his body—in a grayish-green dust. “Is he sick?”
She choked her laughter back as she lightly took Tex by his back legs and his tail and slid him out of his wedged position. He looked up at her and blinked his crossed green eyes.
“Rowrorrorrorrorr,” he pronounced balefully, and then his head flopped back on the floor.
“It’s catnip. He’s not sick or injured. He’s stoned.”
Hank snorted as she rubbed Tex’s belly and he began to purr loud as a Harley. “Stoned?”
“I keep a bag of catnip on top of the file cabinet. He must’ve jumped up there when he hightailed it in here after the windows were broken. I keep it put up because he’s a bit of a junkie.”
Hank frowned and rubbed at the cat’s head as she lifted Tex into her arms, pungent catnip dust and all. “What’s the matter with his face?” he asked, holding back his laughter.
Tex looked up at her with glazed eyes and rubbed at her face with his jaw and swollen mouth, and she said, “This is what he does when he gets in the catnip. He rubs his face in it until his mouth, nose, and gums get irritated and swell up. The first time it happened I called the vet, thinking he was dying. He asked if I let him have the stuff and suggested I keep the catnip put up because my cat doesn’t know how to stop. Poor, poor baby.”
Hank chuckled as he scratched Tex’s head. “I have to share that story with Veronica. It’ll probably inspire her. You know, this cat reminds me a little of one I’ve seen hanging out at the Divine Creek Ranch…or was it out at the Rockin’ C Ranch. Heck, maybe it was both.”
“He gets around, judging by the number of other ginger tabby cats I’ve seen around town. That’s why I had him neutered last winter.” Since then he’d been spending most of his days lazing in the sunshine in her display window or making the rounds for affection from her customers.
“So, he’s okay?”
“Oh yeah. I just need to sweep up this mess and lock him out of the office for a day or two until he sobers up.”
“Rowrorrorrorrorr,” Tex moaned before snuggling up to her and dozing off.
“He looks like he weighs a ton.”
She nodded. “He weighed twenty-five pounds at the last vet visit. He’s a great mouser, and the employees keep bringing him treats.” Since he’d stopped roaming around looking for girl cats to nail, he’d put on a pound or two.
Hank followed her out of the office and waited while she put Tex in the cushy bed Lizzy had given him for Christmas. While she was turning off all the lights in the front of the store, he said, “When I realized you were out at Joseph’s, I hesitated about calling but figured I’d better after your employees told me they couldn’t reach you but had left messages. You needed to hear from me as well.”