Murder in Tropical Breeze (Tropical Breeze Cozy Mystery Book 1)

by Mary Bowers

When Michael spotted me, he handed the leash to Stacey and the three men walked toward me.

  We did our “Good mornings,” and Michael said, “Can we talk to you in your office?”

  “Sure.”

  Once we were all settled around my desk, Michael began.

  “As you know, I was Vesta’s attorney, and of course, at the time of her death, I was in the process of drawing up a new Will stating her intention of leaving a cash gift to the shelter.”

  He was primed to go on that way, rolling out the legalese, when Graeme took over.

  “I know my mother wanted to leave something to Orphans, and that she considered it the most important charity on her list. Even though she was never able to sign her new Will, I intend to go ahead and carry out her wishes.” He glanced at his son, and Jordan nodded.

  “That would be wonderful,” I said weakly.

  “I also know that my mother intended to make her gift in cash, but I’m here to make another offer and see what you think of it.”

  “Okay.”

  Graeme went on. “Cadbury House is my family home. I don’t feel I can ever sell the property outright. For one thing, the family cemetery is on that land. At the same time, I don’t want to live there myself. I’ve already turned down an offer from a developer, and I’ve offered it to Jordan with the condition that he not sell it, but –“

  “I don’t want to live there either,” Jordan said. “I’ve got a life of my own in Miami Beach, and if Dad wants to move to closer to me, I’d like that. He’s pretty much all I’ve got now.”

  “So,” Graeme said with a kind of finality, “I wondered if you would consider moving yourself and your shelter to a place where the dogs would have more room to run. You could live in the house and modify the barn for a shelter. There’s plenty of room for storage and offices in the old servants’ cabins, and there’s the dock area by the river for fundraisers. I’m sure you’ll come up with ideas of your own as to how you can use the property. All I ask is that you maintain the family cemetery and keep it private. Of course I’ll be coming back from time to time to lay flowers and see what you’re doing, maybe work on the landscaping. What do you think?”

  Talking as much to myself as I was to them, I said, “We could have the feral cat reserve we’ve been trying to find a place for.”

  He nodded. “There’s plenty of land for that.”

  I stared at him, feeling numb. “What are your terms? I can’t just move the whole operation out there only to find that you want to sell the place in a couple of years. I don’t want to seem ungrateful –“

  He held up a hand. “We’ve thought about that. As I say, I have no plans to sell the property, but of course, that doesn’t sound legally binding to you. We were thinking more along the lines of a long-term lease. Say, ten years.”

  “Fifteen,” I said immediately. I don’t even know where that came from.

  Michael was watching me, but didn’t say anything. He had a slight conflict of interest here, but since we were apparently all friends together he wasn’t taking sides.

  “How about ten with an ironclad option to renew?”

  I tried to think fast. If we had the whole Cadbury property, I could sell my house and land and free up some capital. Of course, it all depended on what Graeme expected in the way of rent. If I got in over my head and the money from my house and property was spent on the shelter, who could I go to? I was all alone in the world. I’d need to find a shelter for myself!

  “And the rent?” I asked, bracing myself.

  He named a figure that left me speechless. It was about what you’d pay for a tiny apartment.

  “I’ll get started on the paperwork,” Michael said as I sat there stunned and feeling that if I let go of my desk I’d fall through a rabbit hole.

  And then we were all standing, shaking hands, and the Huntingtons were saying good-bye, chuckling at the look on my face, which I was glad I couldn’t see.

  And then we were sitting. Michael and me. Sitting and looking at one another in complete silence. When we heard the front door closing behind Graeme and Jordan, he gave me a face-breaking smile and laughed for sheer happiness.

  “Michael, what just happened?”

  “I think you just got a look at the rest of your life. Little lady, this calls for a celebration. How about dinner at Thirty-Nine tonight?”

  “Okay.”

  “And tonight,” he said, “we’re not going to waste our time talking about anything but us. You do know that I love animals, but that’s not the whole reason I’ve been hanging around Orphans so much. Or hadn’t you noticed?”

  “I noticed,” I said in a little voice. “I thought –“ In light of all that had happened, I couldn’t even say it.

  “You thought I was having a thing with Tina, because that’s what she wanted you to think. Let that be a lesson to you. Tina was trying to use me for information about Graeme, so I went ahead and used her – just a little – to make you jealous. I wanted to make you wake up and want to be with me, and instead, you were willing to walk away. What’s happened to you, Taylor?”

  Startled, I said, “What do you mean?”

  “Think about your life. When you were a young woman, you took yourself on an adventure. You left your comfort zone and you moved to a strange place and launched yourself on a mission. That took courage. That took brains. I thought it was awesome, when I first heard about you. But over the years, you got too comfortable with yourself and just . . . coasted. You haven’t made any changes in decades. Now you’re offered a great opportunity for the shelter, and you hesitate. You seem afraid. And us – you and me – I know we’d be good together, but you shy away. Every time. Where’s the fighter who went into the world alone and built something important? Don’t you want anything out of life for yourself, and not just for the shelter? Do you really want to be alone – I mean in terms of human company?”

  “No, Michael,” I said, getting a little weepy.

  He reached across the desk and took my hand. “You Northerners! You’re all wound up so tight. Maybe it’s time to relax a little, let go of that grim determination and have a little fun.”

  Oh, God, it sounded so good!

  I nodded, and as I stood up Michael came around the desk and reached for me.

  I have never been one to prance about on little pink clouds, but I was as close to that as I was ever going to get when I let myself into my house that night after our dinner together. The whole world had turned over and underneath it had turned out to be Camelot. A lot of details still had to be worked out, the rational side of my brain told me. Then the other side of my brain told it to shut up. At least for one night. For this one night I was going to be completely and utterly happy.

  I closed and locked the front door behind me and set the alarm for the night, then turned to look into my darkened living room. I could feel the emptiness of the place. It surprised me how much I missed the black cat. It had never really seemed like a cat. I tried to picture Basket curling up in anybody’s lap and purring, or bumping her head against a human hand and begging for a scratch behind the ears, but the picture just wouldn’t come. But she was a presence of some kind, and after such a wonderful day it didn’t seem right to be alone.

  I turned on all the lights, went to the couch and sat in a corner of it, stretching out my legs.

  When I had opened Orphans of the Storm, I had made a pact with myself: I’d save all the animals I could, but I would not become a hoarder of animals. If I let myself, I’d have a dozen of each running around the house, and we all know what happens then. Next thing you know, you’re on the evening news broadcast with your hair all wild and a couple of policemen taking you away.

  For the first time, though, it hit me that if I wanted a little buddy to come home to at night, I could have one and not be doing an injustice to any of the others at the shelter. I wanted a pet of my own, and Michael was right: I’d been too wound up in my mission.

  I’d fill out the paperwork in
the morning, I thought, as I disarmed my security system. I looked down at the keys in my hand; I hadn’t realized I’d picked them up. I’d made the decision in some brain byway that was only used for reflex actions, and now I was walking across to the shelter building in a blaze of nighttime security lights. I couldn’t wait to see the look in Shiloh’s eyes as I unlocked her suite and told her we were going home.

  The End