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“Close the door behind you, that’s a nice old lady,” said the guy.

Gran kicked the door closed with such force the guy winced.

“If you don’t want the kid to get it, you’ll do exactly as I say,” he said, aiming the gun at Silvy now. Tessa protectively cradled the child in her arms, eliciting a grimace from her cousin.

“How could you?” she asked. “You’re family!”

“I could ask you the same thing. Ever since you married this ginger bozo you haven’t exactly shared the wealth, have you? You’re living in luxury, enjoying carrot top’s fortune while the rest of your family has to struggle to make ends meet.”

“I gave you a job.”

“Yeah, working as your messenger boy,” he scoffed. “You’re a big disappointment to all of us, Tessa. But then I should have known. You always were as tightfisted and self-centered as your mother.”

If looks could kill, the guy would have been dead.

“You’re making a big mistake,” said Dante.

“No, I’m finally making my connection to Tessa pay off.”

“How is my death going to pay off for you?” she asked.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“He’s working with Otis Robbins,” said Gran. “The two of them are in this together.”

“Aren’t you the smartest one in the room!” said the guy. “Yeah, Otis and I met in the pub late one night and got to talking. We soon discovered we shared a mutual hobby: hating on Tessa. He’d been snubbed by her, when he asked for an exclusive interview, and so had I. So after a couple ofpints of lager he came up with a brilliant idea: he was going to write a book revealing all of Tess’s deepest, darkest secrets and he wanted me to provide the material.

“You know, the kind of stuff only a loving cousin who’s known Tessa all her life would know about. And then I did him one better: I said the best way to guarantee the book’s success was for its subject to die. He thought I was joking but I wasn’t. It’s the only way for her to pay for the neglect and the hardship she’s caused us all. So we made a pact, only half in jest: I would kill Tessa and he would write his tell-all book and we’d split the proceeds fifty-fifty.”

“That’s horrible, Nesbit,” said Tessa, shaking her head.

“I think it’s pretty clever. And I’m sure the rest of the family will agree.”

“Are they in on this, too?”

“Nope. Just me. I guess that makes me the smart one, huh?”

“I think it makes you an asshat,” said Gran.

Nesbit grinned.“You got a potty mouth, granny.”

“You ain’t heard nothing yet, sonny boy. Now put down that gun.”

“Not a chance.” He switched the gun to cover Dante. “So who wants to go first? Prince Charming over there? Or the People’s Princess?”

“You’re going to make it look like a murder-suicide, aren’t you?” said Gran.

“Boom! The lady is on fire!”

“So how are you going to explain about me?”

“Collateral damage. When Dante went nuts and decided to kill his wife, his baby and turn the gun on himself, you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Noooo!” Tessa cried, aghast when the depravity of her cousin came home to her.

“Don’t do this,” Dante growled, and took a step towards Nesbit.

“Not so fast, Prince. Back off!”

I had a feeling that the scenario didn’t just look bleak for the humans in the room, but for Dooley and me, too. If this man didn’t blink at taking four human lives, he would mind even less about two cats who just happened to be on the scene. If he noticed us, of course, which until then he still hadn’t.

The thing is, cats aren’t dogs. We don’t have the superlative biting power in our maws the way some dogs do. One thing we do have are very sharp claws and some very sharp teeth. And hey, we don’t mind using them. We stem from the jungle cat, you see, and I wasn’t going to let this loser murder my precious human just because he wanted to make a quick buck.

So while the guy was gabbing away as if there was no tomorrow, Dooley and I locked eyes. We were going to teach this little piggy a lesson he wouldn’t forget. Only one thing gave me pause: he was holding that gun. And if we launched ourselves at him he would probably fire off a shot. Chances were he was going to hit someone in that room. And we couldn’t very well have that.

And then, as if she’d read my mind, suddenly the voice of the Queen boomed through the room, imperious and decisive.

“Nesbit Seller, put down that gun at once!”

“What the hell?!” said the guy, looking as if he’d just heard a ghost.

“This is your Queen speaking,” said the Queen, and when Gran turned the phone so the guy could see the Queen’s face, his jaw dropped a few inches.

And so did the gun…

“Now, Dooley!” I cried, and we both launched ourselves at the man. I went for the face while Dooley went for the man’s gun hand. We landed simultaneously and while I clung to the man’s visage, digging my claws in while I hissed up a storm, Dooley sank his teeth into the man’s hand.

I can assure you—it was not pretty. The man shrieked like a piglet.