The Trouble with Cupid

by Carolyn Haines

  Becca understood how the loss of a computer and the files for an app like this could be devastating, but she also didn’t want her first annual event to be tarnished by scandal. She needed to tamp this down quickly.

  “I’m so sorry this happened,” she said, leading him away from the door. “I tell you what. You have a crowd of people around your booth. Go take care of them and I’ll call the police.”

  * * *

  Chad noticed that Becca’s hand was rubbing circles on his back as they walked. It felt nice. Soothing. Soon, he began to relax. He looked at her face, into her unusual turquoise eyes, and saw kindness. He sighed.

  “At least whoever stole my computer can’t get into it. I have a series of complicated passcodes that they’ll never break through,” he said. “I employ full-disk encryption with a complex passphrase as the encryption seed.”

  Becca smiled at him, although her eyes glazed over at his words. That happened a lot when he talked about computers or his app. But then Becca rallied and said, “I’ll call the police now.” Then she squeezed his hand and walked away.

  Chad could not take his eyes off her.

  * * *

  Becca was so glad the festival was almost over for the evening. By the time the police arrived, all the attendees would have gone. Running a boarding stable and giving riding lessons in a rural community wasn’t making her rich. Each month she had to rob Peter to pay Paul and the extra income she was getting from the vendor booths helped significantly with her cash flow. She wanted to have more events such as this, but if security was an issue, the vendors—and the crowds—would not return.

  It was just past ten pm when two Hickman County detectives arrived. Tammy and Chad were the only vendors who remained, and Peaches and Trouble sat with Tammy as the detectives interviewed Chad and Becca.

  “Here’s the serial number for the computer,” Chad said as he read off a long line of letters and numbers. Then he gave the detectives his cell number, on the off chance the computer turned up. They didn’t sound hopeful.

  A few minutes later Becca locked up the barn, turned on the security system, and she and Tammy walked the short distance up the drive to Becca’s house. They were followed by the two cats, who were walking awfully close together. Becca had been looking forward to some girl time with Tammy, and trading information about old friends. Now, as she walked, she mused that there had been a lot of high-tech electronics in many of the vendor booths, not to mention all the cash boxes filled with money. Chad was not the only one who’d had a valuable item in plain sight. Was it pure chance that his computer had been stolen, or had he been targeted? If so, who, she wondered would steal that particular computer, and why? She sighed, and decided to enjoy her evening with her old friend, and sleep on the situation. In the morning, things might look clearer.

  * * *

  The morning dawns foggy, but I don’t mind. There’s nothing like a misty morning to draw scent out of the ground. I’m concerned about the computer theft, mainly because I don’t want the scoundrel to return and try to lay his hands on anything of Tammy’s. She has brought along a few fine first editions that are quite rare, and thus, quite valuable.

  Peaches, apparently, is a late sleeper, and I leave her curled up on a delicate cashmere throw that Becca has left on the couch. By the time the sun peeks over the horizon, I have nosed around the parking lot, as well as the indoor arena where the vendor booths are. Say what you will about the nose of a Beagle, my nose is almost as good. After I isolate what I am pretty sure is the unique smell of our perpetrator, I retire to the feed room. Peaches wore me out last night, but I am up for a little amusement before the festival begins again at nine. Maybe the mice will provide it.

  * * *

  The mice do not disappoint—I have to admit, they are quite entertaining—but by eight a.m. I know I need to stake out Tammy’s booth and watch for evil-doers. Besides, she has crunchies there and I’m ravenous.

  I arrive just in time to witness Chad presenting a rose to Becca. It isn’t a real rose, of course, but one he has printed from that machine of his.

  “For you,” he says, “for being so kind to me last night.”

  At first, Becca looks at him as if he has just sprouted a second head. Then she smiles, and reaches her hand out for the rose. “Thank you,” she says. A moment later she raises the rose to her nose, as if to smell its fragrance.

  Really? It’s a paper rose. Chad’s machine doesn’t add any scent, other than the paper and ink. But Becca keeps smiling, and twirls the rose in her fingers as she walks away. Just one more reason I will never fully understand the female of the species, no matter if they have two legs or four.

  * * *

  Later that morning, Chad looked up eagerly as the two detectives approached his booth.

  “You have news?” he asked.

  “Not really,” said the older detective. “We’ve interviewed a few people who said they saw the man you described, and we’ve sent a notice to all the pawn shops in Tennessee and surrounding states.”

  Chad’s face fell.

  “Don’t give up hope, though,” said the detective. “We’re interviewing more people this morning. Becca Brady found several attendees who might have something to add to the big picture.”

  The detective nodded toward the end of the aisle, toward the two women who had been with Becca the previous evening: Cat Enright and Carole Carson. They both raised their hands and waved at him.

  * * *

  Becca haltered the chestnut gelding, and swung onto his back without the benefit of a saddle. She had to clear her head, and riding was the way she usually did that. So many thoughts and feelings were floating around inside her head that she had trouble categorizing any of them.

  After a few minutes of being on Ranger’s back and out on the pasture trail, though, the mess that was her brain began to organize itself. First was the festival. Had she bitten off more than she could chew? No. Everything was going well, other than the theft of the computer. She just needed to hire security if she did this again. When she did it again. Life was a learning experience, right? Well, she’d learned something.

  Then there was that guy. Chad. He was so tall and thin, not to mention geeky and socially awkward. But he’d given her the rose. And last night he had seemed so vulnerable. Becca had wanted to help him; that wasn’t like her. She’d been burned so many times before, she’d given up on men. And, she’d been perfectly happy, hadn’t she?

  Becca turned Ranger back toward the barn. The gelding was not young, and had spent most of his life with her. The result was they trusted each other completely. Could she ever find that kind of trust with a man?

  * * *

  “I was getting lonely,” I say. Peaches has just arrived in the rafters. She still looks rather sleepy, but she perks up nicely at my words.

  I’ve spent most of the morning with Tammy, but really, the view up here is much better. And besides, I can be down at Tammy’s booth in a matter of seconds, if need be. Together, Peaches and I watch the crowd, which is steady, but not as intense as the previous evening.

  I spot him as soon as he walks in the door. He doesn’t look like the same man, but he definitely is the same person. Today he is thinner, and dressed in blue. And, he’s wearing a ball cap and glasses. This clown must be a master of disguises. If that isn’t concerning enough, he has two heavyweights with him.

  Sighing, I know the sacrifice has to be made. I give Peaches a friendly bite on her neck, and ask her to keep an eye on the thin, blue man. Then I race out to the parking lot, to the man’s car. My nose, once again, is in top form, and I have no trouble picking out that the older Mustang Turbo is his.

  Swiftly, I nose around the car, and the white panel van parked next to it. The man’s scent is mixed with two other human male scents around the van. The heavyweights. This doesn’t look good. I jump onto the hood of the van to investigate further. There, I can see that the driver’s window is rolled down about four inches. I sniff ag
ain and know he is a smoker. Now the partially rolled down window makes sense. The day has warmed up some, but it is still in the fifties; too cold for most people to keep windows open at all.

  And look at that. The fool has left the van unlocked. Before I even think about it I find myself inside the van. I push down the button on the door, locking the van. It won’t stop them—if a cat can slip through the gap in the window, so could a hand—but it might slow them down a bit. Then I jump out the window and race to Tammy’s booth.

  * * *

  “Trouble!” Tammy cries. “What are you doing?”

  I’ve jumped onto one of her tables, hoping she still has the books. Yes, there they are, still together, too. Now that I have Tammy’s attention, I meow, and flop down across Turbo Twenty-Three by Janet Evanovich and The Thin Man by Dashiell Hammett. Between Stephanie Plum’s love triangle with Joe Morelli and Ranger, and the love affair between Nick and Nora Charles, there is some powerhouse crime-solving going on in those books.

  Tammy is smart for a biped, but even the best human often needs help understanding situations. I meow again and bat at the books. “The titles are important,” I meow. “Look!”

  * * *

  That black cat of Tammy’s was making the most awful ruckus. Chad lifted the cat down from Tammy’s table, only to have the cat jump right back up again and bat at several books. Well, it was Tammy’s cat. Let her take care of it.

  When Chad turned around, though, his annoyed mood changed instantly. Becca was there and his heart skipped a beat. By this time the crowd had thinned; there was a lunchtime lecture on the life of St. Valentine at the far end of the arena. Chad wasn’t sure how, but before he knew it, he was having a real conversation with Becca. They talked about where they were born, their families, school, and all the places they had lived. Chad didn’t often have meaningful conversations with women––or with anyone for that matter. He never knew what to say. But with Becca, the talking was easy.

  Chad even told Becca something he had not told anyone else. Ever. The reason he was so passionate about his snoring app was that he wanted to use the money he’d make by selling it to a major company to found a nonprofit to give wheelchairs to needy kids. Chad’s nephew had cerebral palsy. He was a great kid, but the family’s insurance didn’t always pay the full cost of the wheelchairs that Damien required. Other families, families who were already strapped financially, couldn’t pay at all for the chairs that their children needed. That wasn’t fair, and Chad wanted to change that.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Chad said. “I’m not passionate about snoring. I’m passionate about how the snoring app can change my life, and the lives of countless others. I just stumbled across the idea, knew how to tie in the technology, and it works.”

  Becca gave Chad an odd look, smiled, and said, “We’ll get your computer back, Chad. I just know we will.”

  * * *

  He just melted my heart, thought Becca. How can a man have so much goodness inside of him?

  Becca patted Trouble as she left Chad’s booth. She needed to walk the floor, make sure all the vendors were still happy. At her touch, Trouble jumped from the table and ran to the end of the barn. A few seconds later she saw him in the rafters with Peaches. It looked as if they were discussing something of the utmost importance. Becca smiled. Trouble really was the oddest cat.

  * * *

  Peaches understands the teamwork that is needed. Late sleeper or not, she is quick to grasp her role and takes it seriously, for she is the lookout who can save my life if things get dicey.

  I’m not sure how much time we have, so I race down from the rafters and halfway through the arena, careful not to trip any of the attendees, then saunter up to the heavyweights and sit down. My paw, I decide, needs grooming, so I turn my outward attention to it, while turning my eyes and ears toward the two men.

  “We snap a finger or two, or cut off an ear, he’ll open up the computer for us,” the first thug says.

  “Boss says we have to do it in private,” says thug two. “That’s why he’s going to lure the geek out to the van. We drive off somewhere and put the pressure on him.”

  “I can’t wait until this is over and we get our share,” the first one says. “Boss already has a big sale lined up for the app. Health Asia wants it, and we’re both gonna be rich. All we gotta do is get into that computer and get the files.”

  A kidnap plot! I should have known. I signal to Peaches and she claws her way down a support post and joins me. This is Plan B, and I need her with me.

  * * *

  Tammy watched as a thin man dressed in blue approached Chad and said, “You the guy had a computer stolen yesterday?”

  “Yes! Have you found it?”

  “I think so,” the man said. “It’s in my car, want to come see if it’s yours?” Chad paused. “How many stray computers do you have?”

  “Just the one,” the man said, not missing a beat. “That’s why I figured it had to belong to you. I don’t know anyone else who is missing one. A Dell, right?”

  Chad nodded reluctantly. “Can you bring it here?” he asked. “It’s hard to leave my booth.”

  “I could,” said the man, “but . . .” The man leaned in and whispered something into Chad’s ear, after which a ghostly pale Chad asked Tammy if she could keep an eye on his booth. Chad then slowly started to walk toward the door, the man close beside him.

  Before they had taken more than a few steps, however, Trouble and Peaches both launched themselves at the thin man, and landed on his back with claws outstretched. The man shrieked in pain, and as he writhed to get the cats off his back, his jacket fell open and Tammy saw that he carried a gun.

  Finally, it all fell into place. The book The Thin Man. This was the guy. The computer thief. “Hey!” she yelled. “Hey!”

  Amid the shrieking of the man and the growling and hissing of the cats, Tammy ran to find the detectives, who were still on the premises talking with Cat and Carole.

  * * *

  In the midst of the commotion, Becca happened around the corner and stumbled into the chaos. No dummy, she immediately sized up the situation and lunged at the thin man. Unfortunately, the two heavyweights chose that moment to move in and quickly hustle both Becca and Chad out the door.

  “We’ll keep the girl for insurance,” she heard thug one say. He was behind her, and had her arm jacked up behind her back and his hand over her mouth.

  “Yeah,” said the other, “he’ll be more cooperative about breaking through the computer encryption if there’s a knife pressing into her throat.”

  This second thug was slightly ahead of her and had a gun pressed against Chad’s ribs. Becca was surprised at the amount of panic that she felt. Not for herself, but for Chad. Couldn’t anyone see what was going on, Becca wondered as their odd foursome moved toward the parking lot? She glanced about wildly. Somehow, she needed to attract more attention, but she didn’t have many options. So, Becca did what she could and bit the hand of her captor.

  “Owww!” he cried.

  As if he could read her mind, at the same moment, Chad tried tripping his would-be kidnapper. The pair tumbled into the side of the van while the thug did his best to open the door. The kidnappers had not considered Trouble’s instincts, however. Instead of being able to open the door, shove Becca and Chad inside, and drive quickly away, the thugs found that the vehicle was locked. That split second of delay in trying to get the van door open was enough for the detectives, whom Tammy had finally rounded up, to get to the parking lot. When they arrived at the white van, their guns were drawn.

  * * *

  “Some criminals,” I say to Peaches later that day, “are not very smart. Imagine having a written kidnap plan on the seat of the get-away vehicle. I never realized anyone could be so dumb.”

  Peaches agrees and tells me she’s glad Chad got his computer back. Then she closes her eyes and leans into my paws, purring. I’m massaging her neck, and secretly admit I’m a great deal pleas
ed when she says it feels heavenly.

  I’m glad about Chad and the computer, too. And that he has the app. Humans who want to do as much good in the world as he does are rare. I’m also glad to see Becca and Chad walk back to the festival arm in arm. It always is nice to see people find their soulmates. I, however, resist finding mine. I prefer to share my love, although if Peaches and I lived closer to each other, that could be another story. And you know what? Maybe someday it will be.

  About the Author

  Lisa Wysocky is the author of the award-winning Cat Enright cozy equestrian mystery series, now optioned for film and television. She splits her time between Tennessee and Minnesota, and when not writing or riding, spends time as executive director of the nonprofit, Colby’s Army.

  www.lisawysocky.com

  Tidbit From Trouble #10

  As you may have noticed, detecting is one of my great passions. The thrill of the chase. That moment of triumph when a criminal is outfoxed by a feline and placed in handcuffs. Between cases, I eagerly await that small voice in my head that tells me when a game’s afoot and my services are needed. But sometimes the call comes from the heart, and I know my mission is to right a different kind of wrong. Like this one, where I hopped a freight train and headed to New Orleans for a bit of detecting of the personal kind. Meet Terry, a man whose loss and loneliness drew me all the way from Wetumpka to set things right.