by M K Scott
“Maybe,” Della acknowledged but she couldn’t convince her body that had shifted into flight or fight mode with her muscles tensing and skin going clammy. Tifiani could be a spy for Lacey.
Chapter Twelve
“LET’S TAKE MY car,” Mabel suggested as she and Della exited the bakery. The last rays of the sun waned as it dipped toward the horizon. The decent weather held. There was no sign of snow or freezing rain despite the temps hovering in the low thirties.
“Sounds good. It has more trunk space,” Della nodded in agreement.
She turned toward her mother’s sizeable sedan. Three years or so earlier, driving around in the highway yacht, as her mother called the car, might have caused some passing embarrassment. At the time, she did not need to haul around gallon cans of blue lake green beans, oversized packages of phyllo dough, and frozen boxes of chicken breasts. Thank goodness she had matured in the past months. “We’re lucky Hubert’s Wholesale Grocery stays open late on Mondays.”
“We are,” her mother agreed as she rounded the car and slid into the driver’s seat. “We should be okay as long as none of your catering needs include spiral cut hams, pecan pies, gingerbread, or any other seasonal goodies.”
“Surely there won’t be a run on gingerbread.” She winked in her mother’s direction. “That’s the great thing about being a baker. I actually know how to make gingerbread and don’t have to rely on a mix.”
“Maybe so,” her mother agreed. “You’d have a much harder time making hams, though.”
“Thank goodness I only need two for the luncheon.” She took her seat, shut the door, and fastened her seat belt as the car engine started. Unlike many daughters, Della enjoyed spending time with her mother and considered her a good friend, possibly her best friend, which meant she trod carefully in some areas. “Um, Mom, how are things going with the cat next door?”
“Fine.” Mabel shot her a smile as she glanced over her shoulder to back up. “I haven’t seen hide nor hair of Prince Purrfection since those suspicious characters were casing the place. Maybe they took him.”
Della’s nose wrinkled at the possibility. “I doubt they stole the cat. There have to be much easier ways to obtain one, and that cat is no sweetheart. I can’t imagine anyone who would want it.”
“Original owner,” her mother offered as she finished backing up and shifted to drive. “Who knows if Prince is his real name. With his actual owner, he might be a much nicer feline.”
“Could be. Still, most people put up missing signs on telephone poles or at the shelter, not hire thugs to steal the cat back.”
A sigh answered her response. “I thought so, too. Something’s going on. That much I do know. What I don’t know is why.”
Ah, the opening she needed. “I might have an idea.”
“Really?” Her mother’s voice swung up at the end of the word.
“You remember all the talk at the rehearsal dinner about the cat woman losing her jewelry and such.”
Laughter greeted the inquiry. “Oh, yeah.” Her mother glanced at Della, then back to the road as she exited the alley parking lot. “I wasn’t listening too hard. I had my eye on the one eligible, or should I say only suitable male, at the rehearsal dinner. Grandad was single, but I’m no fan of May-December weddings.”
It never took much for her mother to veer off-topic. Della cleared her throat. “No worries. I’m not interested in single granddads.”
“What about the other guy?” Mabel’s brow furrowed. ‘You know. The one with glasses. He had a solemn expression, rather like a basset hound.”
Since her mother only chatted up one thirty-something guy on her behalf, she knew who she meant. “I never heard from him. You need to stop talking to men on my behalf. Any guy worth having doesn’t want to be fixed up by parents.”
Mabel’s shoulders drooped, and the car speed slowed. “You’re right. It’s just…just…”
“It’s just what?” Della asked, even though she knew what her mother might say.
“You don’t put yourself out there. You don’t try.” She held up an index finger and wagged it before returning to grip the steering wheel. “When you’re young, there’s all sorts of available men to choose from. Most get snapped up at the end of college.” She made a tsking sound and shook her head. “You point out I don’t date. Who is there to date in my age category? The good ones are still married. The single ones have either been too picky to marry or have been thrown back. You, my girl, as a millennial, are having much better luck since your kind are waiting longer and longer to say I do.”
The term your kind rankled a little. Della chose not to address it, but it looked like it was time to restate her feelings about searching for love. “Okay. I know you want me to meet someone, get married, and produce grandchildren.”
About this time, her mother would push back and say how happy she and Della’s father had been. At the very least, she could throw her mother a bone. “I’m not against love or even marriage, but I refuse to engage in searching for a mate. If it’s meant to happen, it will. In the meantime, I have a life to live.” Returning to her original subject, she asked, “What about the cat lady?”
Mabel smiled, possibly sensing a smidgen of hope for grandchildren in the future. “At first, I thought she was some type of bag lady, but apparently, she had tons of money to invest on baubles for herself and her pedigreed cats. Sounded to me like an inside job since most folks had no clue she had all those gems.”
“My thoughts, too. Did you hear if she had a fancy cat with a heavy jeweled collar?”
“No.” Her mother arched her brows and wrinkled her nose. “Why’s that important?”
Normally, her mother put two and two together faster than Della did. “Neighbor shows up with a mysterious cat sporting a heavy jeweled collar?”
“Oooh! I see where you’re going with this. You think Vanessa stole that cat.” A number of emotions skipped across Mabel’s face before she gave a dismayed grunt. “As much as I’d like Vanessa to be guilty, she didn’t do it.”
“That’s nice you think your neighbor isn’t capable of cat-napping.”
“I didn’t say that.” Her mother clicked on the turn signal and merged into traffic. “I don’t think she’s capable of pulling off any type of heist. She told me she found the cat at a rest stop. That, I believe. Now I suspect Prince Purrfection did belong to someone. He didn’t have the underfed look of a stray, and I’m not really sure why Vanessa would be at a rest stop. The years can take a toll on your ability to make it home to your own bathroom.” Her lips twisted to one side as if pondering her neighbor’s sudden pit stop. “Getting old isn’t for the weak.”
Mabel slid into the left lane, checked her mirror, then signaled as she made a U-turn and headed in the opposite direction. “Mother! Where are you going?” If they arrived on time at Hubert’s, all would be fine, but any deviations from the schedule might end up with her driving to Centerville and paying double for what they needed.
“Back home. Vanessa may be a pain in my side, but I don’t want her getting burned just because she doesn’t have the sense God gave a chicken. We need to grab the collar and take it to Dimitri.”
Even though the name sounded familiar, Della couldn’t place it. “Dimitri?”
“The jeweler the police use for forensic purposes. Mainly, he analyzes recovered jewelry for authenticity and registration. Diamonds are numbered and cataloged to prevent smuggling. An honest diamond cutter will report when stolen merchandise shows up. Besides his sleuthing skills, your father used to buy most of my jewelry from him. He gave a generous peace officer discount.”
Della suspected something might be up and wanted to look into it but didn’t expect her mother to immediately leap on board and call on her father’s former associates. “Don’t you think we should make an appointment?”
Her mother wiggled her shoulders and made an irritated puff of displeasure. “Of course, we will. Only television sleuths get to race around gett
ing answers immediately. I want the collar with me if it’s valuable. Not sure why someone would put an expensive collar on a cat.”
“Don’t ask me. I don’t understand why people dress up their cats or dogs. You know they don’t like it.”
If the collar turned out to be valuable, it might explain those strangers in the crumpled bumper truck—the ones Della kept assuring her mother were relatives of neighbors or even neighbors with a new vehicle, all while her mother could have been in danger.
As her mother sped through the local streets, Della kept mum, not wanting to mention the obvious. They made it to the neighborhood without catching the attention of a police officer. It was close to a miracle with her mother’s questionable driving skills, but maybe she earned a break as the widow of a beloved detective. Flashing lights caused Mabel to slow as they turned onto her street. “Are they in front of my house or Vanessa’s?”
The sight ahead explained why they hadn’t encountered any of Owens’ finest on the way here. Della powered down the window and stuck her head out. A fire department ladder truck, an ambulance, and two squad cars blocked the street, forcing her to lean out even more. Because the vehicles took up so much room, they could be in front of both houses, but her mother’s neighbor’s front door stood wide open, and the various neighbors who gathered on their lawns peered in the same direction. “Vanessa’s.”
“Oh no!” The car slammed to a halt as Mabel stomped on the brake. “Is she okay?” she asked.
The first responders’ vehicles crowded the street, making it not only impossible to move down the narrow residential street but also harder to see between the light flashes and milling officers. “I don’t know. I can’t really tell.”
Chapter Thirteen
DELLA GULPED AT the sight of the fire truck, police cars, and ambulance. A side glance revealed her mother’s tensed muscles as she jerked the wheel, steered to the side of the street and shifted the car into park. Without warning, she vaulted out of the vehicle and ran toward the lights. Della blinked at her mother’s unexpected departure and reached over and shut off the car. Owens’ first responders would ask her mother to keep her distance, which would be unfortunate. She probably wouldn’t. The last thing she needed was to bail her parent out of jail.
“Mom!” Della yelled as she emerged from the passenger side and broke into a run. “Mom! Stop!”
It may have been Mabel Delacroix’s action that caused the curious neighbors to leave their yards and creep closer, rather like a tide licking the beach. A stern glance from a police officer would send them scuttling back, but as soon as the officer turned away, they inched forward silently as a unit. Della found herself skirting one neighbor with hedge trimmers and another clutching her Yorkie.
Finally, she spotted her mother near the ambulance. A policewoman had her flat palm out in the universal halt sign. Well, it may not have been totally universal. Mabel shuffled to the right, then the left, looking for an opening. The policewoman mirrored her actions, even anticipating them to some extent. Surely the officer must have known Della’s father.
By the time Della reached her parent, her mother’s reddened face revealed her agitation. About six yards away, she could see Vanessa sitting up on a gurney at the end of the ambulance, looking rather normal except for her mussed hair.
Help for her mother came from an unexpected quarter—Vanessa. “Let her through! I need to talk to Mabel. Her husband was the best detective on the force.”
She followed the remark with a rather judgy survey of the current responders. The officer stood back and waved her mother through. Della kept close, murmuring, “I’m her daughter…” which appeared to be good enough.
“Keep your distance!” The crowd control officer shouted to the neighbors. “Go about your business.”
Obviously, the neighbors sensed an opening and advanced, though without much success. Both Mabel and Della hurried over to the ambulance where Vanessa held court on her gurney outside the vehicle.
One of the medics checked the blood pressure cuff on Vanessa’s arm but received an affronted glance for her effort. Used to rougher customers than Vanessa, the medic wasn’t dissuaded. Instead, she unwrapped the cuff slowly and announced, “Blood pressure is down to acceptable levels. It may have something to do with your friend being here.”
Friend? Della turned to take in the various neighbors. Perhaps the other neighbors found the woman less prickly. There was no one nearby, which made her wonder who the EMT could mean.
While Della searched for the friend, Mabel made her way to the gurney, took Vanessa’s hand, and peppered her with questions. “What happened? Heart attack? Stroke? Too many enchiladas washed down with five alarm chili?”
“Someone broke into my house. It had to have been last night while I was asleep, and the place was trashed. I can’t find Prince Purrfection anywhere.” She uttered the news in one breath, then gasped and shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
The few neighbors who had managed to sidestep the crowd control officer slipped in between the firetruck and ambulance. One of the women gasped, while the other clicked her tongue. “Robbery! There goes the neighborhood.”
The first woman used her hands to cup her mouth and yelled, “What did they take?”
Vanessa exhaled heavily before answering. “I don’t know. I haven’t had the chance to go through my house and look. They could have taken my signed Liberace program from when I was in Vegas.”
On the whole, thieves didn’t do collectibles unless they had a venue for selling them. Pawnshops and fences wanted stuff they could move fast. Plus, collectibles were worthless without an authorizing agent certificate. This was a service usually provided at events with live signings. Sure, a person could say they have a shirt signed by The Beatles, but if it couldn’t be proven, it wouldn’t sell for a decent price.
“Anything else?” Della prompted. Most thieves went for guns, money, newer electronics, and jewelry. The last item made her consider Prince Purrfection’s weighty collar still sitting in Mabel’s house.
Her mother patted Vanessa’s arm with her free hand. “Do you know when it happened?”
Guilt poked at Della. If she had climbed out of bed and came to her mother’s house last night, too much activity in the area may have discouraged Vanessa’s robbers. Instead, she talked her mother down. Memo to self; Take Mother seriously from now on.
Vanessa turned her head in Della’s direction. “I have a collector’s edition of gnome plates. I never bought the plate hangers to put them on the wall. They’re stuck in the closet, but I haven’t checked. I’m too upset about someone or someones prowling through my house while I dozed in the next room.”
“You didn’t hear anything?” Mabel’s brows knitted, and her lips pressed together. “You’re always yelling at me to turn it down when I play my radio while gardening.”
Vanessa grimaced. “That’s because you’re playing country music. Besides, I was asleep. Ever since my husband died, I’ve had trouble sleeping. Sometimes, I take two sleeping pills, like I did last night. I watched the monologue for The Late Show. An earthquake wouldn’t wake me once I nod off. On the plus side, I do get a solid eight hours. The first thing I did on waking was call my kitty. I couldn’t find Prince anywhere. They must have stolen my darling kitty.”
Della cut her eyes to her mother. “Didn’t you say you saw Prince Purrfection this morning?”
“You’re right. I think I did. Maybe the prowlers accidentally released the cat,” Mabel confirmed with a helpful smile.
Hearing this spurred the nearby eavesdropping neighbors into organizing a search for the lost cat. Besides the staticky chatter from the radio dispatcher, the sound of here kitty kitty! filled the air.
Vanessa swung her legs over the edge of the gurney. “I think I should go look, too.”
The medic placed a staying hand on Vanessa’s arm. “Are you sure? We were going to whisk you to the hospital for a checkup.”
“You said my blood pressure was normal. I have my friend here to watch out for me. Besides, my medical insurance doesn’t cover ambulances and pays a paltry amount for emergency room visits. I need to go find my kitty. Finding my cat will make everything better.”
Della kept wondering about this mythical friend until she realized her mother must be it. How odd. Maybe in the loosest form of the word, they were friends. At the very least, they knew each other. In her opinion, they were more like frenemies with emphasis on the enemy part.
The medic sniffed and cleared her throat. “That’s your choice. I’m going to put you down as refusing service just in case something comes up later.”
“I know, I know,” Vanessa said as she boosted herself off the gurney. “You can’t be held liable if I fall down in Mr. Haney’s rhododendrons while searching for Prince Purrfection.”
“That’s right,” the medic concluded as she tightened the straps on the gurney and collapsed it for transport. “It might do you good to find your pet. I know I’d want to find my Colonel Sanders if he were missing.”
“Weird name for a cat,” Vanessa offered, never shy to share her opinion.
“Not a cat, it’s a chicken.” The medic raised an eyebrow as if daring Vanessa to make another comment and then gestured for the other medic to help her with the gurney.
Knowing her mother’s neighbor, Della made sure to say something before Vanessa did. “Great name. Thanks for all your help.”
Her mother hooked an arm through Vanessa’s which drew a small crowd of curious onlookers. Before they were swallowed up, Mabel turned her head to tell Della, “Go get the thing you needed for the bakery. Better take my car and head to Hubert’s on your own. I’ll call you later.”
It took Della a moment to realize what the thing was, but once she did, she headed over to her mother’s house, which used to be her house, too. Fortunately, she still had a key. When she placed her hand on the doorknob, Tony broke into a barking frenzy. Surprisingly, the knob turned under her hand.
