Katya Kat: Private Detective [serial 02 preview]

“So, just like that, huh?” Claudia brought a Moscow Mule to her lips and took a sip.

“Pretty much, yeah,” I said, folding my arms behind my head. “Can't say I've had an experience like that before.”

She put her glass down and leaned in. “Hmm, yes I'd imagine many can't. Still, pretty exciting, though! You're going to have a lot of stories to tell!”

“Probably,” I said.

“You don't think so?”

I shrugged. “I mean, right now it just feels like a whole bunch of unknowns.”

She took another sip and nodded. “Sure, and that adds to the excitement, yeah?”

I shrugged again.

“Oh, come on, babe! How many unknowns did you have back in computer land, besides when the heck you'd be able to get out of there?”

“I guess you're right.”

“Um, no, you know I'm right.”

I pretended to look around the bar, trying to hide the fact that I didn't know how to respond. It was rather calm for eight o clock; clearest the music on the jukebox had ever sounded.

I’ve known Claudia for a little over two years, well before I moved to Whiskershire. Still wild to think we’d met in a little airport terminal over one of my business trips; one of the few things from that job I can say I’m truly grateful for. I don’t think I’d ever spoken to anyone in transit before then, but it was just so… natural. We’d gotten so lost in conversation, we both almost missed our flights. We exchanged numbers, and month after month, we’d talk on the phone. Month after month, she’d visit me in New York, I’d visit her here, or we’d find some new little town to meet up in and explore for a weekend. When I’d made the decision to start anew, Whiskershire had quickly made its way to the top of my list of places to relocate to. I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t a major reason for the decision. I might be lying if I said she wasn’t the main one.

“Look at you! Spence Robson, Assistant to the Private Detective! Solving cases, catching bad guys... gosh, it all sounds so... sexy!”

“Oh?” I said, nearly choking on my drink.

“Um, yeah. Very!”

Claudia’s hair has been my favorite shade of blue the entire time I’ve known her, and the lights above the bar had been giving it a glow. All of her, really, like someone out of a dream. Over two years in, and my heart still skips a beat when our eyes meet.

“You know what? I've got a surprise for you. Consider it a congradulatory gift.”

I tried to not choke on my drink this time. “Really?” I swallowed. “Here?”

She giggled. “Just shut up and close your eyes!”

I obeyed, and within moments, I could feel Claudia's breath hitting my nose. A wave of electricity rushed up my body as I felt her getting closer. Then, a whisper.

“Wake up Robson…”


My whole body shot back, causing me to bang my head against my headboard. Before my eyes could gain focus on the figure in front of them, I felt it again.


“Wake up, Robson!” a familiar voice yelled.


I placed both hands in front of my face to block any upcoming attacks. Between my wrists, my blury assailant came into focus.

“Ka... D... Detective? H... how did you get...”

“You didn't answer your door, so I shimmied in via the fire escape.”

“You... shimmied...” I glanced over to the glowing digits of my alarm clock. “It's 4 AM...”

“Crime doesn't sleep in, Robson! We have a case!”

“What? Where?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

“No time, lad. Kindly gather your things and get decent. I believe you'll be making a few first impressions. Beauregard and I will be waiting downstairs.”

“Wait, Beauregard, your cousin? The doorman?”

“Indeed. He is a cat of many trades, Robson... Master of some, I'm sure. There will be plenty of time for questions and answers on the way. Do not dilly dally.” She started back towards the window.

“I’m going to have to request you use the front door this time, detective, if that’s okay,” I mustered out, rubbing my eyes.

“Fair enough,” she said. She turned and dashed out into the hallway.

“Oh, and Robson…” She popped her head back into my room.


“Who’s Claudia?”

She smirked, before disappearing back into the hallway.

I threw off my sheets to realize that I had fallen asleep in my clothes again.

“Off to a great start,” I grumbled.

I changed into something fresh from my closet, some brown slacks and a white button-up, and grabbed my coat from behind the door. Before heading out into the hallway myself, I walked over to the window and locked it.

“Good morning, sunshine!” The voice made me jump as I turned the key on my front door. Beauregard Moon, dressed similarly to our last encounter with the addition of some caramel-colored driving gloves, was rubbing down the mirror of a pristine-looking, what must have been vintage, dark blue automobile with a beige cloth. The detective was pacing back and forth behind it, a cellphone pressed up against her ear.

“That's a lovely car,” I said.

“You could say I'm a bit of a car cat, Robson; fortunate enough to have a profession that allows me many toys.”

“Your job with the detective?”

He laughed, “Oh, no, dear boy, my real job. My presence for this little outing is more of a family favor. Lucky for all of us, my employer has also taken special interest in this case, given its nature.”

“Its… nature?” I said, confused.

“Beauregard is what you might call a professional wheelcat,” Katya's voice interrputed. She'd finished her call and was walking around the car towards the passenger-side.

He laughed, and winked in my direction. “Something like that.”

“Everyone ready?” she asked.

Beauregard nodded and opened the driver-side backseat door, motioning for me to enter. He then got behind the wheel, with Katya up front beside him. I slid in and closed the door.

“Just spoke with Harper,” she said. “The scene's still fresh, but we're going to need to pick up the pace. Beauregard, I believe you know what to do.”

“Indeed, dear cousin.” He tugged on each driving glove, then turned the key. The engine began to roar like a lion.

The detective turned around. “You're going to want to buckle up, Robson.”