The Language of Death (A Darcy Sweet Coy Mystery) by K.J. Emrick Page B

been in an actual forest.  Only in my dreams.
    Trees have this amazing smell to them.  They smell like freedom and wild things.  It makes me want to run around them, and jump, and climb this tree with my claws, and jump back down to the ground, and run some more.
    Being a cat rules.
    The problem was that I got totally twisted around out there.  Left was right and east was west—even though I'm not really sure which way is east and which is west anyway—until I lost all sense of where I had come from.  I could almost imagine I wasn't anywhere near civilization.  No town nearby, no traffic sounds, no people.  Just tall trees and wild things and me.  It was like I was a big cat on the prowl in the jungles of—
    The screech that came out of my mouth at that exact moment sounded less like a lion's roar and more like a cat being scared to death.  Which, basically, is what I was.
    That?  No.  That's not where I lost my life.  That comes later.
    A crow had fluttered up in my face, right in front of me, rummaging through the dead leaves and flapping his wings.  He was probably looking for worms or other insects to fill his big, fat belly.  I hate crows.  They're like rats with wings, or short ugly chickens, or…or…something else that's just as ugly that I can't think of right now.  Ugly rat chickens.  Yeah.  That's what they are.
    This one cawed at me again and then flew off, into the higher branches up above until I lost sight of it.  I stopped to get my breath and shake my head a few times.  Dumb crow broke my rhythm. 
    That's when I heard the voices.
    "I told you not to take it," a girl's voice said.  I jumped up in the air again, not screeching this time thank you very much.  My heart was racing, though, and I got to wondering if maybe I might get scared to death out here after all.
    Nope.  That's not where I lost my one life either.
    I could see two people through the trees.  Standing and talking.  The girl was young, with long blonde hair held back in a ponytail, wearing a long blue dress without sleeves.  There was a man with her, a little older than she was, I guessed, with hair buzzed closed to his scalp and eyes that were hidden behind dark sunglasses. 
    The guy gave me the creeps.
    "I took it for us," he was saying to the girl.  "It's for our future."
    "It doesn't belong to us," the girl insisted.  "You have to take it back."
    I could see she had something shiny in her hand that sparkled in the sun.  A ring, by the look of it, with little stones set in place on a gold band.  I think people called those little stones diamonds.  I never understood why people have so much interest in stones.  They're just little pieces of rock.  I could find rocks anywhere.  Look, I'm stepping on some right now.
    Those ones on the ring sure were sparkly, though.
    The guy and the girl were still arguing, and the girl tried her best to push the ring into the guy's hand.  He wouldn't take it.  "I stole it for us.  That ring is worth a lot of money, and it's ours now."
    Stole it?  I know enough about humans and how they think to know that stealing is wrong.  Cats don't steal from each other.  We might take stuff from people's garbage, but that isn't stealing.  If people didn't want that stuff taken, they wouldn't throw it out.
    My ears perk up.  If these two stole a ring from somewhere in town, this could be even more interesting than running through the woods.  I watched them intently to see what they would do next.
    The girl shifted her weight from one foot to another, looking nervous, but finally she put the ring on her finger.  "Fine.  I'll keep it, but I don't like stealing, Pat.  If we're going to be together we need to show everyone we can make it on our own.  So.  Um.  When do you think we can sell it?"
    "Tomorrow.   My cousin lives over in Meadowood."  The guy, Pat, rubbed his hands together.  "He knows a guy runs a pawn shop.  We can get at least two hundred dollars for that.