Cat Got Your Cash

by Julie Chase

  “Why would I be mad?” I brushed off the pang of disappointment. I might’ve spent a few nights hoping Jack would check on me after my run-in with a psycho, but he hadn’t. He had things to do. Leads to chase. “How’d it go?”

  “Dead end.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s how it goes.” He made a small smile. “How’s the leg?”

  “Healing. My head’s okay, too.” The bruising and goose egg had lingered for days, only truly disappearing last night.

  The parade stopped in front of us. A marching band danced and played something I couldn’t identify. Maybe a school fight song. Skipping girls in small skirts shook shiny pom-poms and shouted into the air.

  I focused on Jack’s steely blue eyes. “No concussion. In case you were worried.”

  “I never worry.” His mouth curved into the lazy half smile I loved. “Your head’s too hard to crack.”

  I lifted my little fist. “Want to test yours?”

  He snorted. “Put that away before you hurt yourself.”

  A tidal wave of beads landed on the sidewalk and skittered against Jack’s boot.

  Scarlet’s kids dove over them in a pile of pant legs and coat sleeves.

  I dropped my fist onto my lap. “You can schedule the meeting at Grandpa Smacker anytime. I’m well enough to make the pitch now, and I have a presentation on my laptop.”

  “There’s no rush.” His gaze drifted to my cast.

  “I’m fine. Set the appointment. It’ll be a great opportunity for my business.” All the time I’d spent on my backside lately had illuminated some obvious things I’d missed about the opportunity. For example, having a Grandpa Smacker label on my treats meant an increase in business at the shop. If people knew the recipes originated at Furry Godmother, they’d stop by for something fresh and discover my handmade couture as well.

  Jack didn’t look convinced. “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “Have you seen the paper?” he asked, smoothly changing the subject.

  “Yes,” I picked invisible lint from my jacket. “Bryce was charged with two counts of murder. He’s a lawyer. Any chance he’ll get off?”

  “None.” Jack didn’t look happy. “Don’t forget car theft, the unlawful entry of your home, and two counts of abduction.”

  “Thanks for including Penelope in that. She was afraid of her crate for days.” I exhaled long and slow. “So it’s a done deal for him? He won’t be back on some misguided vengeance mission?”

  Jack flinched. “No. He’s working on a plea deal, but he’s spending the rest of his life inside regardless. If he gets the deal, he’ll waste his years in a white-collar facility instead of federal prison where he belongs. He might’ve been white-collar, but his crimes weren’t.”

  “What’s his leverage?” What ammunition did Bryce have at his disposal?

  “He offered full cooperation. Anything we wanted to know, including the details of how he killed Annie and Dylan Latherope.”

  “How did he get Dylan?” I knew he got Annie with an unplanned sneak attack, but I’d spent more time than I’d ever admit wondering how a little guy like Bryce had gotten the jump on a hulk like Latherope.

  “He invited Mr. Latherope to a private meeting at the river, where they were supposed to discuss the return of Latherope’s kittens. Bryce put a rock in his briefcase for the occasion. He gave Latherope some bogus papers about the kittens’ custody. When he bent over to sign, Bryce cracked his melon and rolled him into the river. Then he tossed the rock in.”

  “Premeditated.” My tummy lurched. “Poor Mr. Latherope thought he was finally getting his kittens back, but instead he was lured to the scene of his own murder.” Nausea and fear rippled through me, leaving goose bumps on my skin. Bryce had seemed unstable in the car that day, but the more I learned about him, the more he seemed like a burgeoning serial killer.

  “I’d been following him from day one,” Jack said.

  “What?” I deflated against my seat back. “Why?”

  He pressed a hand to his chest and retrieved the shiny detective badge hanging from a chain beneath his shirt. “Cop.”

  I smacked his hand. The badge swung. “You even wear that thing on Thanksgiving? Do you ever take it off?” My cheeks flared instantly. An obvious and unfortunate side effect of my medications.

  “I’m a cop every day.”

  “Fine.” I pressed cold hands to my cheeks, hoping to lower the temperature. “What about Bryce tipped you off? He looked harmless to me.”

  “Everyone’s a suspect. I’ve told you that. When I checked into his financials, they were a mess.”

  I scoffed. “He said Annie didn’t pay him enough. Though, he admitted to overspending as a means to impress her.”

  “No amount would’ve been enough. I suspected gambling debts at first, but I think he’s got a drug problem. Ryan admitted to selling him prescription painkillers once when they were on the road with Annie. Bryce wasn’t one of Ryan’s regulars, which tells me Bryce was desperate when he asked. You don’t go to your boss’s brother for casual drug use.”

  I wrapped bone-chilled arms around my middle.

  “Did you ever catch up with Shannon Martin? He was probably the only person on my list that had a good reason to be mad at Annie.”

  Jack watched Scarlet’s kids tossing beads at one another. “Yeah. He was mad, but he was proud she’d want her name on something of his. He’s suing for rights to the designs and hoping to get some leverage in the fashion community from her obvious endorsement.”

  “And Gideon?” Had the animal shelter owner-slash-stalker ever been released from the hospital?

  “He’s fine. Annoying, but he’ll live.”

  The parade marched on until the Llama Mamas came into view. I whistled. They were sparkly and snazzy in their candy-corn-colored hats and scarves. I waved and hooted at Mrs. Hams.

  Scarlet reappeared from the street, herding her kids back onto the sidewalk after they’d collected beads and trinkets from the ground. She set them in a row and hoisted a bag from her red wagon. She fell into her seat. “Hey, Jack.”

  “Hi, Scarlet.”

  She wiggled a pair of juice boxes in our direction.

  We declined.

  Imogene chose apple cranberry and poked a little bendy straw into the top. “Mm. Mm. Mm.”

  My restless mind circled back to the mysterious lead that had kept Jack away all week. “So tell me about your dead end. It must’ve started out as something good. I haven’t seen or heard from you in a while.”

  “Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, shifting the material of his open leather bomber and revealing his department-issued sidearm safely at his side. “I’m working on it.”

  I leaned forward, locking our gazes and capturing him in my BS detector. “I thought the lead didn’t work out. What do you mean you’re working on it?”

  He glanced away.

  The parade slowed again, and the final float came into position. A jazz band bringing up the rear burst into dance. Cameras clicked and snapped around us. A line of professional mascot-sized turkeys danced the Macarena. Mom and a group of waving women smiled from their perch upon the float. They wore matching Jazzy Chicks shirts and smiled wider than the mighty Mississippi. Their hens wore felt sashes and pecked cluelessly around a miniature barnyard. A space heater puffed against their feathers.

  I gave Jack a questioning look. His attention was locked on the hoopla before us.

  “Woo-hoo!” Scarlet bounced to her feet, swinging beads overhead like a propeller.

  In the street, Chase and Carter danced with the turkeys beside Mom’s float. They wore plastic golden crowns and wild, goofy smiles. Scarlet’s husband, Carter, sprang up and down on his toes with Poppet strapped to his chest. Chase performed the moonwalk and the snake, nowhere near the beat of the jazz band bringing up the rear.

  Scarlet grabbed her kids’ hands and led them into the street, shaking their behind
s and swinging their arms. Maybe it wasn’t only Chase who was cuckoo. Maybe it was in the Hawthorne genes.

  People filed into the street behind the jazz band, abandoning their chairs and forming a second line parade. Electricity sizzled in the air. My heart lifted, and my shoulders shimmied.

  Chase locked his gaze on me and pulled his jacket open dramatically. He wore a Jazzy Chicks shirt underneath, exactly like my mom’s.

  Jack laughed. “Once the dust settled, I realized I still had the ten thousand dollars for Cotton and Cashmere, and I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with it, so I called a lawyer. Chase said the monies were part of Annie’s estate, intended for the cats’ keeping.”

  “Her estate goes to brother,” I said. “He’s still in jail. How can he care for them?”

  Jack smiled. “He’s not. Cotton and Cashmere are about to become New Yorkers.”

  “Her parents.”

  “Yeah. They’re devastated at losing Annie, but having her kittens will be a bit of a comfort to them.”

  I thought of the televised memorial service. “I’m sure the trust won’t hurt either.”

  Imogene pushed onto her feet. “Well I can’t sit here and watch something like that going on in front of me.” She left her knitting on the chair and shook her moneymaker into the mix of folks still trailing in the second line.

  I hooted and clapped.

  Jack took Imogene’s seat. He dropped her yarn into one of the bags she’d left behind. “Sorry you can’t join along.”

  I shrugged. “It’s New Orleans. Another parade will be along any minute.”

  He laughed. “That’s true.”

  “So tell me about the lead,” I pressed.

  He rubbed giant palms over his thighs and braced his elbows on the chair’s arms. “I might’ve found a link between Tabitha and a man at Grandpa’s company.”

  “What kind of link?”

  “I’m not sure. Romantic, perhaps? Maybe something else.”

  I waited for him to elaborate.

  He watched me with cautious eyes.

  I lifted my hands. “If there’s something to overhear, I will hear it.” I drew an X over my heart. “Set the appointment.”

  He gave me a sidelong glance. His incredible blue eyes crinkled at the sides.

  “How about you and I discuss the potential pet line and espionage over lunch?”

  “It’s Thanksgiving. Why don’t you come to my parents’ house and eat with us tonight? We can talk shop afterward.”

  Jack hesitated. “I don’t know.”

  “Come on. Without you, it’s just the three of us.” And without us, he’d be alone. “My parents would love to have you, and your presence will shift some of Mom’s attention off me.”

  He didn’t seem sold.

  “Jack?”

  “I’ll come if you confirm with your mom first. I don’t want to impose.”

  “Done.” I flipped my phone over and sent the text. “Anything else?”

  “I won’t go empty-handed,” he said. “What can I contribute? Do you like bread pudding?”

  “Sure. As long as Tabitha didn’t make it.”

  He checked his phone. “No roofies. Got it.”

  My smile grew impossibly wider. “We’re starting to make a pretty good team, you and I. Remember when you thought I was a murderess? Now you’re letting me in on your secret investigations. We’ve come a long way, Detective Oliver.”

  He blanched. “It frightens me that that’s your interpretation of what’s happened in the past four months.”

  “Because I’m scary-good?” I teased.

  “No.”

  “Because you didn’t know how good it felt to have a partner?”

  “I had a partner. You’re not my partner. You’re a civilian. More of nuisance, really.”

  I nudged him with my elbow. “Don’t pretend.”

  His cheeks twitched.

  “It’s okay to smile,” I said seriously. “People won’t think you went soft. You won’t lose any street cred or anything.”

  His icy eyes sparkled in the midmorning sun. “You’re too happy. What’s wrong with you?”

  “I’ve got a good partner,” I said.

  “We aren’t partners.” He got comfortable in Imogene’s chair. “I hope your friends come back soon.”

  “Why? Do you have somewhere to be?”

  “Well, yeah. I’ve got to go home and bake bread pudding.”

  I stared down Magazine Street at the nearly invisible members of the second line parade. “You’re right. Let’s go.” I hobbled onto my feet. “We can take their things to my house, and they can swing by later.” We had brainstorming to do.

  Furry Godmother’s Autumn Apple Pupcakes

  Makes 12 full-size pupcakes.

  Celebrate the season with these healthy and delicious treats for your pup. You probably already have the ingredients in your pantry!

  Ingredients

  4 tbsp. honey ½ tsp. vanilla extract

  2¾ cups water

  ¼ cup unsweetened applesauce

  1 egg

  1 cup fresh diced apple

  1 tbsp. baking powder

  4 cups flour

  Ground cinnamon

  Directions

  1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

  2. Line a muffin pan with paper cups or prep your tin.

  3. In a large bowl, mix honey, vanilla, water, applesauce, and egg.

  4. Mix baking powder and flour in a separate bowl.

  5. Slowly stir the flour mixture into the large bowl and blend well.

  6. Sample your diced apples.

  7. Sample one more. Maybe let your doggy check your work.

  8. Fold remaining diced apples into the mixture.

  9. Spoon mixture into muffin tins.

  10. Sprinkle lightly with cinnamon.

  11. Bake for 60–75 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out dry.

  12. Remove tins from oven and cool completely on a wire rack.

  Furry Godmother’s Cat’s Meow Shredded Chicken Biscuits

  Makes 15–20 biscuits.

  Taking holiday cookies to friends and neighbors? How about treating their fur babies, and yours, with these easy-as-Christmas holiday biscuits?

  Ingredients

  1½ cups cooked and shredded chicken ½ cup chicken broth

  ¾ cup white flour

  ¼ cup whole wheat flour

  ⅓ cup cornmeal

  1 tablespoon melted butter

  Directions

  1. Combine shredded chicken, broth, and butter in a large bowl.

  2. Add cornmeal to wheat and white flour.

  3. Pour dry ingredients over the chicken mixture and knead.

  4. Roll dough to ¼ inch thickness.

  5. Pinch dough into quarter-sized balls and flatten them to ¼ inch thickness with your thumb.

  6. Place on an ungreased cookie sheet.

  7. Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes.

  Furry Godmother’s Cheesy Kitty Yum Yums

  Makes 2 dozen Yum Yums.

  Bake up a batch of warm kitty lovin’ with these cheesy Yum Yums! Simple, healthy, and so delicious—even your cat will approve.

  Ingredients

  ½ cup white flour ¼ cup whole wheat flour

  ¾ cup shredded cheddar cheese

  5 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese

  ¼ cup plain yogurt

  ¼ cup fine white cornmeal

  Directions

  1. Combine cheeses and yogurt in a large bowl.

  2. Stir in flour and cornmeal.

  3. Knead dough, adding water as needed.

  4. Roll dough to ¼ inch thickness and cut into your favorite holiday shapes.

  5. Place cutout Yum Yums on greased cookie sheet.

  6. Bake at 350 degrees for 25 minutes.

  Acknowledgments

  I have so many people to thank for this book, this series, and the fact I’m not hiding under my bed. Thank you, Jen
nifer Anderson and Keri Ford, for reading all my ugly, jumbled first-draft words. There wouldn’t be a finished product without you. Thank you, Kathryn Long and Janie Browning, for the hours you spent scrutinizing my completed manuscripts for plot holes, plot bunnies, and other avoidable tragedies. You make my work better. Thank you, Jill Marsal, my brilliant and dedicated agent. Jill is the cheerleader and advocate every author needs, and I am eternally grateful for her. Thank you, everyone at Crooked Lane Books, for taking a chance on me, for bringing my characters into the world, and for letting me tell more of their stories. I still can’t believe you picked me. A deep, humbling curtsy to the friends who support my weird ways and pretend I’m not completely bananas. I’m sure our lively discussions have worried more than one couple seated near us at a restaurant. Thank you, Darlene Lindsey, for your unwavering and near pathological belief in me—not to mention your untold hours of babysitting while I write and travel. Thank you, precious children, for putting up with your awkward, quirky, harebrained mother and loving me anyway. Finally, thank you, Mom and Dad, for making me believe I could change the world, and thank you, sweet Husband, for supporting me every day while I try.