A Thrift Shop Murder

by N. M. Howell

  Poof

  All three men suddenly returned to cat form. I shrieked and jumped back, falling sideways over the arm of the chair and sprawling awkwardly as I tried to right myself. “Holy crap, why did you do that?”

  The three cats sat down, looking at each other then turning their attention back to me. “I didn’t do it,” Finn said.

  “God damn it.” Tom’s voice was a low rumble. “We mustn’t have control over it.” He turned his crystal glare on me. “You were the one who broke the spell this morning. Do it again. Get the spell book. Or ask Aggy.”

  The cat’s voice was rough and hard, but the look of desperation in his stare softened my irritation at being ordered around by a scarred black cat. I raised my voice. “Agatha? Aggy! We need you,” I called. “And your spell book thingy.”

  “That felt weird,” Finn said as we waited for the ghost to appear. He scratched his ginger fur. “I don’t think I like turning back into a cat without fair warning.”

  I could hear Pussy purring from the far side of the room. Pussy, great. The one name I didn’t catch. He lifted his head from his crotch and met my eye. “I liked it. It was kind of exciting, if you catch my drift.”

  “You’re disgusting,” I snapped. “I actually think there’s something wrong with you.” A wide grin spread across my face as inspiration hit me.

  “Oh no, she looks way too pleased with herself,” Finn’s voice said from the floor.

  “She looks like she’s up to something,” Pussy agreed.

  Tom frowned and did a fairly impressive impersonation of a grumpy cat. “Spit it out, Price.”

  I sat back down on the chair and leaned back with a smile on my face, finally feeling better than I had all day. “I know how we’re going to approach Frankie without seeming suspicious.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “I can’t thank you enough for taking us and at such short notice, Tracy,” I gushed as I hauled the massive cat crate onto the counter.

  Dragging three enormous cats in a box two blocks down the road was no easy feat, even for someone as fit as I was. Fortunately, Agatha had one of those wheeled moving crates in her basement and I used that to drag the massive animals to the vet to their extremely vocal and annoying displeasure.

  “Don’t even mention it,” Tracy replied with a massive smile on her face. She looked genuinely happy to see me, and her joy was infectious. “Is there anything in particular that you’d like me to take a look at? Or is this more of just an overall check-up to make sure they’re in good health?”

  “Well, truth is, I know absolutely nothing about cats. I’ve always really been more of a dog person,” I admitted. I glanced at the cats out of the corner of my eye. “Three male cats? It’s my idea of a nightmare, to be honest. They’re so loud and obnoxious.”

  Tracy laughed with me, nodding her head in agreement as the black cat curled his lip up and hissed through the gaps in the crate. “I’m definitely a dog person, too, but I have to admit, these three really are a sight to behold. Look at the size of them. They’re three big, big boys.” I avoided Pussy’s stare as he stretched his back and purred in agreement. Tracy bent down and peered into the crate at the three cats squished together and inside. “Why don’t we bring them in the back so we can let them out of this tiny space? They can stretch their legs a little bit and I can get a better look at them.”

  “Sounds great, but maybe we can get some help moving this darned crate. I nearly threw my back out bringing them here; I wouldn’t want you to get hurt because of these guys.” I leaned to the side to peer around the corner of the room, through the door behind the front desk. Frankie wasn’t at reception, but I hoped maybe he was somewhere in the back. “Do you have anyone else working with you today?” I made my voice sound as innocent as possible, though I was already sweating buckets and felt slightly sick to my stomach. The whole concept of being on an undercover investigation made me feel exceptionally nervous, despite the fact that I was really only there to ask a few questions.

  Tracy positively beamed at me. “Great idea, Frankie can take care this. Frankie?” She called his name and a man I recognized from the service in the park sauntered into the room. He was tall and slim and was wearing clothing that looked worth nearly as much as the house I now lived in. When Tracy motioned for him to pick up the crate, he looked none too impressed.

  “Hi, you must be Frankie,” I said as I reached my hand toward him. He took it reluctantly and shook it, offering me a quick flash of teeth. “I’ve heard so much about you.” I immediately regretted saying that. All three cats responded in warning, and I coughed loudly so that hopefully no one else caught their mewls of protest. I added quickly, “I mean, I’ve heard you used to work at the vintage shop where I live. I love the display you had in the window, it’s beautiful. Guess it must’ve been an interesting place to work, huh?” I felt a flush creep up on my cheeks as I tugged at the handle of the crate, flustered.

  Frankie tipped his head to one side. “That’s for sure. So many stories I could tell you from working in that place for as long as I did, not that you’d believe half of them,” he said, a dimple flashing in his right cheek. “Here, let me help you with that.” He picked up the massive crate and awkwardly hauled it through to the back room.

  I followed, but Tracy hung back slightly and nudged me with her elbow. “How are you settling in? Is everything okay? I’m really glad that you stopped by.” Her voice was hushed as she spoke, as if she didn’t want Frankie to overhear our conversation.

  I smiled up at her and shrugged. “To be perfectly honest, things are a bit strange. I’m settling in, though. The place is starting to grow on me.”

  “I’m glad.” Tracy smiled. “We’ll have to maybe grab that coffee sometime if you do decide to stay.”

  “For sure, that sounds nice,” I agreed. “If we both survive this check-up, that is. Who knows what kind of food Agnes has been feeding them or what kind of care they’ve been under. I want to make sure they’re healthy and haven’t been living off moth balls or anything. You should see the crazy stuff in that old house.”

  Tracy laughed as we entered the room with a red-cheeked Frankie struggling to lift the crate onto the high veterinary exam table. Tracy and I ran forward and helped him lift it, and when the door was securely closed, I undid the latch and let the three cats crawl out and stretch. By the looks they gave me, I knew they were none too thrilled to be crammed into such a small crate together. I was quite impressed by my brilliant idea, if I was honest with myself, but they didn’t seem too keen on it. Whatever. It got us in here, and that’s all that mattered.

  “I’ll leave Frankie in here with you to get their weights and set up their files while I go check on a little guy next door who should be coming round after this morning’s surgery.” Tracy gestured at her crotch and made a snipping gesture, and Tom snarled and scampered under a cabinet. The vet eyed him curiously as she turned. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?” She picked up a pile of papers from the far desk, winked at me, and then turned to leave us in the room alone.

  I felt a thrill of satisfaction as the door closed. Perfect. Everything was going exactly as planned. I rested my hip against the examining table as Frankie got to work with the cats. He had a way with animals, it seemed, but his innate distaste for getting fur on his clothing was quite hilarious to watch as he manoeuvred the cats at arm’s length from the table to the weighing station in the corner. He raised a brow as he dropped Pussy onto the scale. “The other two seem okay, but this one looks a little chubby, doesn’t he?” Pussy’s eyes narrowed into hazel slits as Frankie reached to squeeze a roll of the cat’s flesh. “Are you a little lardy cat, huh? Too many tootsie rolls from Agatha since I left, right?”

  “Did anyone tell you their names?” He asked as he sat on the rolling doctor’s stool and slid over to the computer to begin setting up their files.

  “Uh, yeah,” I lied. “Agatha’s old friends dropped by this morning and told me who everyon
e was. The big scruffy black one is Fluffy, the ginger is Muffin, right?” I asked, trying to sound casual. I paused and eyed the cats, suppressing a laugh. There was no way in hell I was going to speak Pussy’s real name aloud. “And I’m changing the tabby’s name to Pumpkin.”

  Frankie spun on the stool to face me, his eyebrow raised as he chuckled. “You didn’t like Agatha’s choice of name for him?”

  I shrugged as I joined in with his laughter, releasing the tension that had been building since I arrived. “Yeah, not so much. I can’t exactly picture myself standing on the doorstep and hollering for Pussy last thing at night.” Frankie’s face creased and tears of amusement welled in his eyes. I smirked. “Maybe Agatha was trying to tell somebody something? You never know what might have been going on with a lady like Agatha Bentley.”

  “You can say that again,” Frankie muttered before returning to his computer to hammer away at the keys.

  I took a deep breath and tried to look casual. I was cool, calm, and collected. “So, Frankie,” I croaked, clearing my throat. “Thrift store worker to veterinary assistant, that’s quite a career change?”

  Frankie nodded, eyes fixed on the computer screen. “I trained to be a veterinary technician straight out of college, but I left Tracy’s to follow my dream to be a fashion blogger. When that… didn’t work out, Tracy was kind enough to take me back.”

  “So, you were working for Agatha while you blogged?” Frankie’s fingers froze on the keyboard. I rushed on, the words falling from my lips in a breathless jumble. “What was she like? I mean, here I am living in this dead woman’s house, and I feel bad because I didn’t even know her, you know? I’d love to get to know her better if you have any stories you’re willing to share with me.”

  Frankie raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “Oh, I have stories all right. The stories I could tell you would make your toes crawl, girl. That woman was one loony old bat. Well, you’d have to be, I guess, to run a thrift shop like that. She always had a thousand wild tales to tell, but I honestly never knew which ones were true and which ones were made up. And the kind of things she’d bring back with from her travels were beyond fascinating, until she stopped going anywhere.” He chatted away as he expertly tapped on the computer keyboard, setting up the three files for the cats. When he was finished, he turned to face me, his face unexpectedly solemn. “So, you really didn’t know her at all? I mean, everyone knows she left the store to a total stranger, but I thought maybe you were some long-lost relative or something? I mean, to have inherited everything from her, everything...”

  Frankie’s eyes glowed with an intensity I couldn’t quite get the measure of, and I couldn’t tell if he was being sly or judgemental or if there was something else entirely hiding in the molten chocolate depths of his stare. I fiddled with the hem of my shirt, feeling the cats’ attention on me as I took a moment to answer. “No, we’d never met. I lost my business in a fire a few months ago, and I parted ways with my fiancé a few weeks ago, so I just needed to get away from the city and everything that reminded me of my old life. Salem was far enough away that I could afford the bus ticket and the rent here is affordable, so I applied for every job I could find and Agatha was the first to offer me one.”

  “That’s it?” Frankie asked. His voice was incredulous.

  “That’s it,” I repeated. “I accepted the position of assistant manager in the thrift store, and she agreed to let me rent out her basement suite for a price I could afford, but when I arrived things weren’t exactly as I had expected them to be. And that’s a massive understatement.” The two of us stood in silence for a long moment staring at each other, an unspoken challenge burning in Frankie’s eyes. I steeled myself. “So, why did you leave the thrift shop? You were the last assistant manager, right? I was your replacement?” I swallowed the lump in my throat, uncomfortable in the newly formed tension that filled the room. Even the cats were on edge, and they walked in circles around the exam table, meowing.

  Frankie reached down to pick Fluffy up, his fingers working through his thick black fur. By the expression on the cat’s face, I could tell he was not best pleased with the man’s hands all over him, and I suppressed a smirk as I diverted my eyes up to Frankie’s, waiting for him to respond. “Yeah, I was the last assistant manager.” Frankie’s lip curled over the words and his tone was stilted. “And I didn’t really choose to leave so much as get kicked out. Agatha ruined my life.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  My mouth slackened as I stared at the veterinary assistant sitting beside the examination table. My lips were dry. “Agatha fired you?”

  “Fired me? No. She didn’t even have the decency to that, she just made it impossible for me to work there,” Frankie snapped. He pursed his lips. “You know, she called herself manager, but she literally didn’t have the first clue about running a business.” Frankie released Fluffy from his grasp and started to sort through the samples of pet food on the shelves that lined the back wall. “Do you know she had thirty-three vintage Chanel purses thrown inside an old trunk when I first started working there?” He smacked a tub of dog treats onto a shelf to emphasise his point. “Thirty-three.”

  “She didn’t know how much they were worth?” I probed.

  Frankie flicked his wrist. “She didn’t care. She wasn’t a business woman. I don’t know why she opened the store in the first place; she didn’t even want to sell any of her stuff. She just wanted to hoard the junk she liked.” His grimace softened as he rested his head against the wall. “She was happy to let me do whatever I liked with the other stuff, though—the purses and the clothes. I started dressing the windows and taking photos for my blog and things picked up with the store, and she asked me to move into the basement apartment so she wouldn’t be alone in the building at night… We were a sort of weird little family, the two of us, you know?”

  “Sounds nice,” I said, truthfully. It did sound nice.

  “It was. I haven’t always had a lot of luck with family. My step-father had a hard time accepting who I was, and my mom had a hard time standing up for me.” Frankie lifted his chin, daring me to challenge him. “But Aggy and me? We got along fine.” He frowned. “Until things kind of blew up with my blog. People started coming from all over the country to see the displays and the store started turning a profit for the first time since she’d opened the place. You’d think that’d make her happy, right?” Frankie glared at me and I nodded my head in agreement. His jaw tightened. “Wrong. She was furious. She ordered me to shut down my blog. Said if I dared post another photo of my displays that she’d kick me out on the street so fast my head would spin.”

  I grimaced. “And you took another photo?”

  Frankie exhaled and looked at me with tired eyes. “Hermes, Chloe, Burberry, and Dior in one single, divine outfit. I couldn’t keep that to myself. Art can’t be silenced.”

  I bit my lip. He shared his art, and Agatha took away his job and his home. And the means for him to create his art. Harsh, even by the standard I’d come to expect from the old witch. Fluffy peered at me from the corner of the room, his blue eyes intense against the black of his fur. I stared back at him in silent agreement. That certainly gave Frankie a motive. I edged closer to the veterinary assistant. “So, you left on bad terms then?”

  Frankie eyed me, his expression shifting like quicksilver. “Why do you care?” I opened my mouth to answer, but Frankie stood up and folded his arms. “You think we haven’t heard the rumors about Agatha’s death? Are you trying to accuse me of something?”

  I shook my head, taking a step backward. “No, of course not. I just want to understand her better, seeing as I’m new to town and all.”

  Frankie’s expression was stormy. “We may not have seen eye to eye, but that old lady was basically family to me. I would never hurt her—never.” Frankie’s lips thinned. “Besides, if anyone around here had anything to do with it, I’d bet on it being her sleazy, money-hungry cousin, Harlow. He came to Agatha a few months ago
and told her he’d found a place where she could go to retire. Wanted her to sell the store to him and move to some dumpy little retirement village, but she told him where to shove his retirement property. And considering his real estate mafia has been snapping up every vacant lot and under-priced building in town lately, maybe you should go spit your poison at him if you’re looking for somebody to interrogate.”

  My heart hammered in my chest as he spoke. “Look, I really didn’t mean to upset—”

  “Well, you did. Agatha’s dying before we made up is bad enough, I don’t need someone coming in here and giving me the third degree as well.” Frankie brushed the fur off his pants before making his way toward the door without a second glance. “I think we’re done here. Tracy will be back to do the full exam. Excuse me.” He left and the door closed behind him with a rather loud thud.

  I nervously ran my hands through my hair, shaking my head in disappointment as I sank onto the stool. I was so mad at myself. My questioning had a gone exactly the opposite way that I’d hoped it would. “Hey, doll, you did the best you could,” Pussy said as he prowled toward me. I sat back so he could jump up on my lap.

  The second he made impact, a loud pop sounded in the room and a rather large, naked man was suddenly sitting on my lap. Sweet organic zucchinis. I shrieked and quickly covered my mouth with my hands, hoping Tracy hadn’t heard me from the other room. I looked down at the blond man’s body as his very naked ass pressed into my lap. I blushed furiously and turned away so wasn’t staring directly down at his distractingly impressive… equipment,

  Footsteps sounded in the hall, and I frantically pushed him off my lap and jumped up, panic coursing through my veins. “Shit, Tracy is coming. We have to hide you. What the hell are we going to do?”

  I gaped around the room, exhaling as I caught sight of a closet. Sprinting over, I pulled it open and shoved Pussy inside. Running fully on adrenaline, I sprang into the closet with him and pulled the door shut, my body pressed against his firm form in the very small space. Good thing it was dark, because my face was glowing all shades of red. “Well, this is cozy,” I blurted out, more nervous than I cared to admit. Why I had jumped into the closet with him, I wasn’t quite sure.