Monterey Bay Mystery - Bonus Chapter

The Pink Sweater Incident

“Grok, hurry, the racers are coming.” Amanda pulled on the sweater she had just finished knitting. It was bright pink, and it had her logo, a big white dog bone, on the front and back. Grabbing her bag and the sign that read “Pink Power Wash & Groom,” she pulled open the side door and shivered in the chill of the early morning. 

Tucked into the Monterey Bay, Ocean Wood weather was staying true to form today, with the dense fog making fuzzy lumps of the cars parked around her and shrouding the graphic of a large dog face on her grooming van in mystery.

“A jacket would have been a good idea.” She muttered under her breath. But she hadn’t want to hide her logo—that was why she was here, free advertising. She was talking to herself because the cat still wasn’t out of the van. 

Having a cat you could psychically talk to had some advantages, and she had been able to bribe Grok into coming with her today and help her promote her dog grooming business.

“I’m not going out there. It’s too cold.” Came the grumpy voice from inside the van. 

“You’re a cat. You are supposed to go out and hunt in all kinds of weather.” Amanda tapped her foot on the wet grass. 

“I’m thinking of becoming an indoor cat,” Grok called back. 

“I guess I’ll have to invite Ben over to share those fresh salmon fillets I got.” Amanda rubbed her arms. She wouldn’t admit it, but he was right. It was too cold. And she had already invited Ben to join them after work for dinner. She certainly didn’t know how to cook salmon.

“No, no, I’m coming.” The huge cat called as he took the passage from the cab into the back of the van. While he looked like a 35-pound Maine Coon, he was actually an alien cat with amnesia and an attitude problem. 

Yeh me!

“I made something for you.” Amanda was so excited she couldn’t hide it anymore. She pulled the package out of her bag and opened the surprise. 

“What is that?” Grok glared from the door of the van.

“I made us matching sweaters!” Amanda jumped up and down. “Yours is just like mine! Let me help you into it. 

***

Grok knew he was being pranked. Was this an attempt to subdue him for a visit to the vet? Amanda had stuck her hand through the hole in the pink monstrosity and grabbed his head. Before he could protest, the thing was wrapped around his neck, and she was jamming his arms through the sleeves.

“There!” She crooned excitedly and pulled the mass of material lumped around his shoulders down to his waist. “Oh, you are adorable. I’ve got to take a photo and post it immediately.” 

Amanda sank onto the van’s step and proceeded to take a dozen photos, rearranging him for each of them. 

A strange lethargy had come over his body the minute the sweater locked in place like he was powerless to resist its fluffy texture as it lulled him into a false sense of cuteness. 

“All right, enough. I thought you wanted to go to this chase.” He shook off her arm and jumped out of the van.

“It’s a race, a mutt run. Owners run with their dogs. It’s the perfect place to advertise my grooming business.” Amanda corrected as she locked the van and grabbed her bag and sign. “I’ve got little gift bones with business cards to hand out at the finish line. You just have to stand there and look cute. Uh, could you try not to be so scowly?” 

Emerging from the fog ahead of them was a metal arch covered in banners with tape stretched across the center. People were milling around.

“Oh, this doesn’t look good. Watch the treat bags while I check it out.” Amanda left.

Grok sniffed the air. He couldn’t believe she had left him standing in this ridiculous, itchy sweater in the middle of a damp field while there was a perfectly good coffee shop—he sniffed—somewhere. He could smell it. 

Scratching at his neck where the knit material rolled, he continued to sniff the air. And scratch, and sniff and scratch. At one point, the scratching was so distracting that he took his claws to the collar until he had a little relief.

“This is worse than that time—” a sharp pain shot through his head as he tried to remember his past. He sunk to his belly and passed out. Sometime later, the itching brought him back to consciousness. As he shook off the fuzziness in his head, he tore at the material around his neck. It opened up. 

“That’s better. What is that wonderful smell?” Grok paused. Was he supposed to be doing something? He couldn’t remember anything specific or even why he would be outside in this dense, damp fog on such a bitterly cold day. But he could smell coffee, and he trotted off towards it, following his nose.

It was sometime later when he heard his name. “Grok, there you are!” 

Grok glanced up from his saucer of warm milk. Amanda’s face had a pinched look, and she was shivering. She carried a torn bag and an armful of pink yarn.

Grok snuggled deeper into his nest. The barristers had thought he was adorable, even with the material still wrapped around his belly, and had set him up with a drink and a pillow next to the fire.

“I can’t believe you left without me!” Amanda collapsed in the chair next to him, dropping her stuff to the floor. She held out her hands to the fire. “The race was canceled because of the fog. You left the bag on the ground, and a group of dogs got into it; it caused a huge scene. I probably won’t be invited back again.” 

She scowled at Grok, and he gave a shrug. 

“There was nothing left in the bag except the ripped-off collar of the sweater I knitted for you.” She held up the pile of thread. “I had to follow the trail of pink yarn here!”

“Are you with this big guy?” A waitress approached Amanda. “He’s got a bill going. Would you like to add something to it or pay?” 

Amanda narrowed her eyes at Grok. “He is cut off. I’ll take a hot chocolate.”

Grok sipped at his milk, but his ears perked up when she said, “I can’t believe I got you salmon for dinner. I’m telling Ben, you get the smallest piece.”

Grok scowled into his saucer.

The End