Petunia didn't respond. She was too busy carrying Pansy into the next room where there were indeed kennels lined up on tables. Fortunately, Noah came running over to offer his assistance. Petunia was glad she brought him since he had no problems moving the cats into their kennels.
Tracy bit her fist as she stared at Petunia’s cats. “I had no idea that you have a Persian and Himalayan. Why, you even have an American bobtail just like your cousin. They’re a fan favorite.”
Petunia wanted to grumble that Maria wasn't her cousin, but what did it really matter? “Oh, it never occurred to me that I had competing breeds. Does that mean they're eligible to compete alongside the other cats with pedigrees?”
“That's exactly what I'm saying.”
“What's going on here?” Melanie asked, as she joined them.
“Take one look at those cats and you’ll know.”
“I guess it never occurred to me that my cats were any more than pets, but what about my other cat?” Petunia asked.
“He'll still have to compete in the pet division, I’m afraid.”
“Does that mean I'll have to go into another room if some of my cats have pedigrees?”
“If only we had room. I'm afraid your cousin Maria and your aunt took the last spots.”
“Exactly who told you Maria was my cousin?”
“Your Aunt Estelle, of course.”
“That's strange because—”
“Because Petunia had no idea they were in town,” Aunt Maxine interjected.
By the time Melanie and Tracy left, Pansy was pacing angrily in his cage. “That's not fair.”
Just then a portly man walked up the aisle, taking a peek at each of the cats and scribbling in a notebook. When he walked up to Pansy’s cage, he exclaimed, “Do you mind if I pick up your cat?”
“Of course not,” Petunia answered.
The man picked up Pansy, petting him, and then sat him on the table nearby where he ran his fingers along the sides of Pansy’s ears, the length of his body, and his tail. “I can't believe it,” he muttered. “I've heard of the black shorthaired Himalayan before, but I never had one entered in one of my cat shows.”
“You mean he actually has a pedigree?” Petunia asked.
“Certainly and quite unique. If you look at the front of his ears you'll see how the hair grows very sparsely there, it's common in Siamese cats. And as you must know, Siamese are bred with Persians to come up with a Himalayan. Where did you get this beautiful beast?”
“Well, you know she was trying to trick me into being her boyfriend via a love potion, but she turned me into a cat instead,” Pansy said, as if anyone could hear him—anyone besides Petunia, that is.
“Does that mean he can compete in the pedigree division?” Petunia asked.
“I'll make sure of it. Why are your cats kenneled out here, anyway?”
“Melanie and Tracy told us there was no room anywhere else.”
“We'll see about that. I'll be back momentarily.”
Petunia stared around the room for a moment. She supposed it was a little humdrum looking, but it was a cat show, not a Hollywood premiere.
It took a moment before Petunia realized that the man had taken Pansy away, but he quickly returned with Pansy, Melanie, and Tracy following up the rear.
“Mr. Calhoun pointed out to us that your cats are to be moved into the pedigree room,” Melanie said. “I hope your cousin won't be too upset that she'll have to move back here. Once the grand marshal speaks, everybody listens.”
Noah cocked a brow and asked, “What cousin?”
“Don't ask me, it's something that Maria Hoodwink told volunteers.”
Instead of the cats having to go back into their carriers, Melanie and Tracy rolled the tables and kennels under an archway that read, “Pedigree Division.”
As Petunia walked into the other room, she saw that indeed it was much different. Red fabric hung from the walls and on the tables. Owners had their cats out of their kennels, brushing them while dangling feathers attached to a wand, presumably to keep their cats’ attention or to keep paws busy.
“Can I have my cat back?” Petunia asked Mr. Calhoun.
“Of course, I completely forgot.”
Mr. Calhoun handed back Pansy and Petunia took him into her arms, petting him slowly. When she spotted Maria heading for them, Petunia put him back in the kennel in a hurry. She didn't need one of her cats getting in the firing range.
“You have your nerve,” Maria began. “Passing off your familiar as a pedigree.”
“You have it all wrong. Mr. Calhoun is the one who told me he's a pedigree, not me.” Before Maria could say anything, Hazel came back with, “A Himalayan, if you can believe that.”
“That's not quite right,” Wanda said, “Try black, short-hair Himalayan!”
“I'm sorry, cousin! I hope you don't mind going in the other room. I just want to make sure that you know it wasn't my decision. I really like that Mr. Calhoun, he's good people.”
“You should probably get set up in the other room,” Aunt Maxine said. “I’d hate to have them fill your space.”
Chapter 7
“Before you leave, I'd like to know why you told them I'm your cousin, Maria?”
“I'm not dignifying that with an answer,” Maria said, then she stomped off.
“I’m afraid this isn’t going to be the last we'll see of her,” Aunt Maxine said, “but I suppose I should go speak with Estelle to try and smooth things over.”
A young woman walked up, balancing a silver tray filled with glasses of bubbly, but that couldn't be right. The woman stopped and asked. “Would any of you care for a glass of champagne?”
“Champagne?” Aunt Maxine asked as she froze in her tracks. “Maybe I can speak to Estelle later. I haven't had a glass of champagne since I can't remember when.”
“Me either,” Hazel and Wanda chimed in unison.
Petunia declined the bubbly just as Noah began to text. “I don't need a glass either,” Noah said. “I'm late for picking up my parents. Apparently they’re waiting at my house.”
Petunia’s eyes widened. “You mean your parents are here now?” She then relaxed. “I suppose I'll have to meet them another time.”
“Oh, you're not getting out of it that easy.” Noah laughed. “I'll be bringing them straight here. My mother has always had a fondness for cats.”
Noah stopped briefly next to Petunia, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek, and off he went. Petunia could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks and she forced a cockeyed smile. “Well, that was unexpected.”
Wanda clapped her hands together. “That is so sweet.”
“I suppose if you don't mind being kissed by a lug-head,” Pansy blurted out.
“No need to be nasty, Pansy.” It was then that Petunia remembered to ask about Princess. “Hey what’s the story about Princess, Aunt Maxine?”
“I fully intended to bring Princess, but obviously she had other ideas and off into the woods she went.”
Petunia’s brow arched sharply. “Are you certain you’re not trying to come up with one of your clever excuses?”
“Clever?” Wanda asked with a smile. When Aunt Maxine sighed heavily, Wanda quickly added, “Just kidding.”
“Of course Wanda is kidding,” Hazel added. “We've never met a smarter witch.”
“You can quit sucking up any time,” Aunt Maxine said. “I know what she meant and I would never take offense to anything either of you said.”
Aunt Maxine, Wanda, and Hazel drained their glasses and left, leaving Petunia alone with her cats. Now she had time to fret. What would Noah's parents think of her?
“Why are you acting like you're marrying the man?” Pansy asked.
“You can quit reading my thoughts any time,” Petunia said. “I think it's perfectly natural for me to worry. I don't even know why Noah wanted me to meet his parents, we’ve only been dating a short time.”
“There's something going around ins
ide his lug-head and you better hope it's not an engagement ring. I'm not ready to live in a house with a stupid dog.”
“Now you're really off-base. I'm more worried that he told them I'm a witch.”
“No, you just make potions, stick to the story, Red.”
“Believe me, I'm trying.” Petunia put a hand against her chest. “I think I'm having a panic attack.”
“You're never going to win the man that way. Not that I want you to. All I know from being a man is that women have a problem controlling their emotions.”
“You can't be talking about me because I'm not falling for Noah, not yet anyway. What I'm concerned about is meeting his parents. What if I don't make a good impression on them … or worse, if they find out I'm a witch and tell Noah that he's not allowed to date me?”
“That's funny. I thought this was 2016. Families don't get all that involved in their sons’ and daughters’ lives these days.”
“That's not always the case, but yes, Noah and I are above the consent age.”
“Who knows, Red, maybe they'll be as confused as to why they’re being introduced to you, too.”
When Petunia heard the sound of Noah’s laughter, she hastily picked up Sassy, brushing her. You might want to say it was hard to do with all that hair of hers, but it would be all Petunia’s fault if her cats didn’t look presentable for the show.
Noah burst through the curtain accompanied by a portly, balding man dressed in gray slacks and a white shirt and tie. A woman followed, wearing a long and flowing blue sundress, her arms and face quite tan.
“Mom, Dad, this is Petunia,” Noah introduced.
“Sorry, our son isn’t a very good about making proper introductions,” Noah's dad said. “I’m Victor and this is my wife, Carol. We're here on vacation.”
“Oh, I thought we were here to speak to Noah about something important,” Carol said.
Petunias swallowed hard. She greatly feared what was about to be said next. “Nice to meet you,” Petunia said shyly. “This here is Sassy, my Persian, Merlin, my American bobtail, and Gem, my Himalayan.”
“Don't forget Pansy,” Noah said.
“Apparently I was just informed today that Pansy is a black, short-hair Himalayan. I didn't even know there was such a thing.”
Carol laughed. “Are you sure they aren’t pulling your leg? I mean, that's quite a lengthy worded breed. Do you always show your cats?”
“Oh, no, I only consider them to be my pets, not competitors. I just thought it would be fun if I entered them, but I can see already there's more to this than I thought. They even serve champagne.”
“Champagne, you say?” Victor asked. “I'll have to find out where to get a glass.”
“Really, Victor, it's not even noon,” Carol complained.
Victor dodged off, much to Carol’s displeasure.
“I just don’t know what to say, Petunia,” Carol said.
“You don’t have to say anything, my Aunt Maxine had champagne, too,” Petunia said.
It was then that Petunia thought she heard a sound, it was a muffled cry of some sort. When no one around her reacted, she wondered if she was the only one that heard it. She quickly put Sassy into the kennel and hurried through a curtain where there was nothing but trophies behind glass.
“What's going on?” Noah asked, as he joined her.
“I'm not sure yet but I think I heard a scream or cry.”
“Where? When?”
Petunia sighed. “Before I came back here is when, and I'm trying to figure out where.”
“Well, there's certainly nothing in here, maybe we should go through that door and take a look.”
“Why don't you go back and entertain your mother. Your parents came all the way from New York.”
“Don't remind me. I was hoping they wouldn’t be arguing the whole time they're here.”
“I hardly think being concerned about her husband drinking champagne too early is arguing.”
“Very well, then, let's go see what's on the other side of the door,” Noah suggested.
Petunia led the way and tentatively opened the door to see Mr. Calhoun on the floor and a woman bent over him, crying. “Speak to me, Jay.”
“Is everything okay?” Petunia asked.
“No, everything isn't okay. Mr. Calhoun is dead!” the woman cried.
Petunia and Noah stepped closer to take a look. “I don't see any wounds on his body,” Petunia observed. “Perhaps one of us should perform CPR.”
“I can't stay here, I have to leave,” the woman cried, as she made way for the door. “If his wife catches me with him again, there will be two bodies laying on the ground.”
Petunia quickly called 911 and laid down the phone. Noah then rattled off instructions for Petunia to assist him as they performed CPR. It didn't take long to hear the familiar sound of sirens approaching, not that Petunia paid all that much attention as she was doing mouth-to-mouth while Noah did the chest compressions. When the first responders arrived, Petunia and Noah cleared away from Mr. Calhoun and let them do their work.
Sheriff Pinkerton and Deputy Cartwright rushed in the room. “What's going on, Noah?” Pinkerton asked.
“We’re not sure,” Petunia said. “He was laying on the ground when we got here.”
“How did you two conveniently find him?”
“We heard someone cry out,” Noah answered.
“And there was a woman kneeling by his body,” Petunia said, “but she ran off when we started CPR.”
“I see, and do you know who the man is?” Deputy Cartwright asked.
“He’s Mr. Calhoun, or so he introduced himself. I believe he is grand marshal of the cat show,” Petunia said.
“Who was the woman on the scene when you arrived?”
One of the paramedics looked up for fraction of a second and then went back to work.
“I'm not sure who she was, but I can tell you this much … she wasn't his wife,” Petunia said.
“And she certainly left in a hurry,” Noah added.
“I suppose you entered your cats in this cat show,” Pinkerton said.
“I wish there was some way we could have stopped that woman, and now we’ll never know who she was.”
“We?” Cartwright asked. “Were you recently hired by the sheriff’s department?”
“Of course not! I have better things to do than try to give a ticket to someone for not having her cat on a leash,” Petunia vented. “Perhaps you should be more worried about the actual crimes that happen in Lake Forest.”
“Well, the murder rate has certainly been going up with you living in town.”
“That'll be enough,” Pinkerton snapped. “Why don't you go out back, Cartwright, and see if anything looks amiss.”
“Have either of you had any interactions with this man today?” Pinkerton asked.
“No I just met him today and he seemed very nice,” Petunia said. “He even made room for us in the pedigree room since all my cats fit that category.”
“Did you meet his wife?”
“No, I'm afraid I only spoke to him for five minutes, if that.”
Noah pointed out a champagne glass. “I wonder if Mr. Calhoun drank out of that glass.”
“Or perhaps the woman did,” Petunia added. She walked over and inspected the glass without touching it. “It doesn't have any lipstick on it.”
“Was the woman wearing lipstick?” Noah asked. “I don't exactly recall.”
“You're right, we didn't have a chance to notice a detail like that, but she had blonde hair, I remember that part,” Petunia said. “Do you think the man was murdered? He could've been poisoned.”
“Or he could have died of a heart attack,” Pinkerton said, as he tapped a pen against his notebook. “What makes you think he was poisoned?”
“An educated guess after I saw the empty champagne glass.”
“Champagne at a cat show, now that's a new one.”
“I've seen them all in my time as a detect
ive in New York,” Noah said. “Although I hope we're not counting the man out already.”
“Let's take a walk into the other room,” Pinkerton suggested. “Perhaps you could recognize the woman if we bumped into her.”
Petunia and Noah follow Pinkerton into the next room. Petunia then walked over to where her cats were in kennels. Her eyes widened when she saw that Pansy’s kennel was empty.
“I see one of my kids is missing,” Petunia said. “I mean cats.”
“I was going to say, what didn’t you tell us about Petunia?” Carol asked. “And who is the strapping man?”
“I'm Sheriff Pinkerton, ma’am.”
“This is my mother, Carol Becker,” Noah said. “I'm not sure where my father is right now.”
“He was looking for a glass of champagne not long ago,” Carol said.
“Where did you get the champagne?” Pinkerton asked.
“There was a young woman passing it out,” Petunia informed the sheriff.
Aunt Maxine, Hazel, and Wanda wobbled into the room. “We don't feel so well,” Aunt Maxine announced. She then reached into her pocket and pulled out a vial, taking a healthy drink before passing it to Hazel, who then passed it to Wanda, each of them taking a drink. “That should fix what ails us,” Aunt Maxine said.
“I didn’t see anything outside, sheriff,” Deputy Cartwright said, as she waltzed into the room.
“Make sure nobody's making off with champagne, we think it might be poisoned,” Pinkerton said.
Petunias smiled to herself about this assumption that the champagne was poisoned. A gurney was brought through, heading into the back where Petunia and Noah followed the sheriff.
Mr. Calhoun was being strapped to a gurney with an oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth.
“You were able to resuscitate Mr. Calhoun?” Petunia asked. “I'm so glad.”
“I'm sure he has you and Noah to thank for that,” a first responder said, wiping sweat from his brow.
“Put the hospital staff on alert that we suspect Mr. Calhoun's been poisoned,” Pinkerton ordered.
Pinkerton put on a pair of rubber gloves and retrieved the empty champagne glass. “I better get this down to the lab and find out what Calhoun was drinking.”
Meows, Magic, & Mayhem (Lake Forest Witches Book 4) Page 5
