Charlie paused as he was just about to head over to the couch with its sick occupier. He turned slightly to look at the cat then at Jennifer. The detective didn't look shocked or scared, just concerned for a moment.
"I either have developed an ability to read animal's thoughts, or that's a cat who can talk into my head." His eyes narrowed as he looked around the room. "I'm certain I have not gone so crazy as to fall into the Son of Sam category. That wouldn't work so well for a police officer, not that it's impossible, but it just goes against character."
He didn't add that he had actually killed before, as that was irrelevant. Probably.
"It is tuna." He looked at the cat then started once more on his path to the couch and coffee table to put down the food. "It is for you, Mr. Cat."