Minnie Chase Makes a Mistake Read Online Free Page A

because she had set up the e-commerce side of Howl Couture and was astonished how much money people paid for dog collars encrusted with jewels and other glittering additions to their spoilt pet’s wardrobe. Angie was raking in the cash, which helped fund her passion for rescuing and rehousing abandoned animals. The business-from-her-bedroom situation suited Angie because it allowed her to be a stay-at-home mum to a menagerie of waifs and strays.
    Minnie ran even faster when she saw Angie’s front door. James George’s parting words were disappearing, engulfed by the night. Minnie tried to hang onto them but they were already beginning to fade. Meaningless words that would break down in the earth’s atmosphere and vanish forever. 
     Angie answered the door with a cat draped around her neck; a breathing fur stole that eyed Minnie with haughty feline resentment. Angie had similarly transfixing green eyes but hers were warm and welcoming. Her curly, cauldron-black hair was marvellously dishevelled as though Minnie had caught her sleeping like a bat. 
    ‘Minnie! Oh!’ exclaimed Angie, snapping out of a doze-dazed state.
    She didn’t need to ask if there was something wrong. Minnie’s expression said it all: help me… save me. 
    Angie reacted like Minnie had taken a flesh wound from a firearm. She quickly hauled her into the house and slammed the door. Once she was confident that her friend could breathe without assistance she ushered Minnie down the corridor into a living room that was swarming with a horde of curious cats and dogs. Angie, foster person for abandoned animals, had a home that was a welcoming sanctuary for four-legged friends and, in Minnie’s case, two-legged friends in need. Rescue operation on all levels. The house possessed the distinct aroma of cat’s pee and patchouli – a curious combination that shouldn’t have worked but Minnie found it reassuringly comforting. She associated the smell with Angie, who, according to circumstances, was Minnie’s sidekick or her saviour and always her faithful best friend.  
    ‘Angie,’ cried Minnie, collapsing onto a huge, squashy sofa upholstered in a bright butterfly pattern. She wrapped her arms tightly across her chest. ‘Oh!’
    ‘Ohmydeargod! What is it?’ cried Angie panicking. ‘Tell me where it hurts.’ She grabbed Minnie’s ankles, heaving them up onto the sofa until her friend assumed a horizontal position. 
    Minnie started talking but she could only manage a jumble of words interspersed with a series of fits and gasps. Angie shrugged off her cat stole and was on the verge of checking Minnie’s airways. Minnie tried again to regurgitate the story but, hyperventilating, the best she could do was keep repeating isolated words and disjointed phrases. 
    ‘Stop. Slow down. Wait. STOP! Hold on…’ pleaded Angie. ‘Calm down, Minnie. I don’t know what is going on. Breathe… more… another one… that’s it, that’s better, just take your time.’
    Minnie pulled a cushion over her face, her voice became a mumble from behind the velvet tapestry. Then she sat up. ‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ she said. 
     
    Minnie sat with a large dog bowl on her lap. It was the first thing Angie could get her hands on when Minnie announced she was going to throw up. 
    The blood abruptly drained down to Minnie’s feet and dizziness set in; nausea loves company.  
    Then Minnie started to babble, making no sense. 
    ‘You’re in shock,’ soothed Angie. ‘I’ll get you a blanket.’
    James George’s penis puppetry performance was tattooed onto Minnie’s mind. She knew she would be forever haunted by the exhibition. Talk about the night from hell , she thought despairingly.
    She brought Angie up to speed starting from the moment she flung open the bedroom door.
    ‘The noise…‘ she bent over the dog bowl as her stomach heaved dramatically although she wasn’t actually sick. ‘…The woman… was a… screamer.’
    Angie looked