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The Cats & the Riddle

Page 8

by Jan Fields


  “Maybe someone bought the Cheshire Cat online and just added the book part himself,” Alice said.

  “I don’t think so,” Josephine said. “The cat is more than just sitting in the book. Come and look at it. You’ll see what I mean.”

  The three women walked into the children’s section and Josephine unlocked the glass case to take out the sculpture. “I’ve spent a lot of time looking at this little guy. Look at the size ticket in his hat,” she said. “It’s actually cut from one of the John Tenniel illustrations of the Mad Hatter. So it came from the book that the cat is sitting in. And look closely at the cat’s smile. His teeth are paper. They came from another illustration in the same book. And I know this book came from this library. I remember it clearly.”

  “I found something else.” The quiet voice came from a slight young woman with a sweet smile who stood with a picture book clutched to her chest.

  Josephine smiled at the young woman. “Annie, Alice, I don’t know if you’ve met Sarah. She’s helping out in the children’s room. The kids love her story times.”

  Sarah blushed slightly at the compliment and seemed to hug the book she was carrying a little tighter. “Nice to meet you. I believe I saw your grandchildren in here some months ago.”

  “I remember them saying they enjoyed story time,” Annie said. “I believe it featured pirates?”

  “It might have,” Sarah said. “Pirates are always a crowd pleaser.”

  “You said you found something?” Alice prompted.

  “Oh yes. You need to see this book.” Sarah opened the picture book she’d been carrying and held it out. “Do you see the little handwritten bits on these illustrations? It looks like the same handwriting as on the cards. Well, to me it does.”

  Annie peered at the illustration. It was a photo of a soft collage made from bits of fabric and tufts of wool. The piece was embellished with buttons and beads and such, all very intricately combined to form a scene of a village. The little village shops had hand-lettered signs identifying them as the inn or the bakery. Annie looked from the card in the display case to the little signs. Though Annie was certain she’d never seen the picture book that Sarah held, something about the illustration looked very familiar. “The printing does look a lot alike.”

  “Who illustrated this book?” Alice asked. “It would be too much to ask for it to be someone from Stony Point.”

  Sarah shook her head, and then her blush deepened. “That’s the only problem. I’m fairly certain this woman lives in England. All of her books are published there.” She closed the book so they could see the cover. The author and illustrator were the same person: Candace Caine.

  Annie and Alice looked at one another, wide-eyed. The woman that Adam Smithfield was searching for was the same person who was leaving cats around Stony Point!

  “I know,” Sarah said with a self-deprecating laugh, mistaking their stunned expression for surprise that she would advance such a silly theory. “It must just be a coincidence that the printing looks so similar.”

  “They certainly look identical,” Josephine said. “It’s a mistake anyone would make. It’s amazing to think two people could have the same distinctive printing. Perhaps the artist is intentionally copying that writer.”

  “Actually, the answer might be even more amazing,” Annie said. She told Sarah and Josephine about Adam Smithfield and his search for Candace Caine. “He has an envelope with a postmark from Stony Point, but this certainly makes it appear that Candace Caine did more than pass through Stony Point. If she’s leaving these lovely little cat sculptures, she must live here or visit often, at least. You wouldn’t go to this kind of trouble to thank people if you only passed through a town.”

  “I would certainly think we’d know if a world famous children’s author lived in Stony Point,” Josephine said. “This woman has won some of the highest honors in children’s book publishing in Great Britain. Her work is very famous.”

  “Apparently she’s gone to a lot of effort to disappear,” Annie said. “That would mean avoiding any actions that would make her presence here common knowledge.”

  Josephine sighed. “Well, if she is here, I wouldn’t be surprised if she made the cats herself. The work she does in these books with collage is amazing. ”

  Sarah chimed in. “She does use a little needle-felting in the collages in some of the books from the last ten years. It isn’t three-dimensional like the cat sculpture, of course, but that would be a logical next step in her skills. I could easily see the cats being created by Candace Caine. Her work is amazing.” The young woman’s admiration for the picture book illustrator was obvious in her voice.

  “So we know she knows the technique,” Annie added. Then she grinned. “It sounds like both of the mysteries have the same solution. Candace Caine is in Stony Point, and she’s giving presents.”

  “We still don’t know which of the ten thousand year-round residents of Stony Point is the famous Candace Caine,” Alice said. “I know this is a major discovery, but I still feel just as much at square one on actually finding this artist as we ever were.”

  “Well, if someone moves to a whole new country and changes her name and hides this kind of talent from everyone in her new community,” Josephine said, “she must be afraid of something. You don’t go to that kind of effort just because you don’t like publicity.”

  “What could a picture-book author have to be afraid of?” Alice asked.

  Annie looked down at the perky grin on the cat in the display case. What had made his creator so afraid? And what part did Adam Smithfield play in that fear?

  13

  After taking a number of photos of the library cat and the card that came with it, Annie and Alice headed to The Cup & Saucer for lunch and a discussion of what they should do next.

  Because it was midafternoon, the diner was mostly empty. As soon as they stepped through the door to the diner, Peggy rushed to them, her eyes shining with excitement. “You’ll never guess what we found in the window near one of the tables!”

  “A really big tip?” Alice said.

  “A cat sculpture!” Peggy said, and she tugged them toward the hostess stand. She reached into the back of the shelf behind the menus and pulled out a porcelain teacup. Inside the delicate cup sat a saucy little tuxedo cat with a red bow tie around his neck. The needle-felted cat sat on a tea bag that lay in the bottom of the cup like a pillow. The string of the tea bag hung over the edge of the cup, and the oversized tea-bag tag read, “Always a Warm Welcome Here—Thanks!”

  Annie recognized the printing. It matched all the other cards as well as the print from the picture book they’d looked at in the library.

  “Isn’t he adorable?” Peggy gushed. “I’m just so thrilled that we got one. I swear Jeff is treating it like an award.”

  “I would too,” Alice said. “After all, all these little cats seem to be someone’s way of saying ‘thank you’ for all the good things in Stony Point. It’s nice to be one of the good things.”

  “That’s how I feel too,” Peggy said. “I wish I could take this little darling home with me. He’s a charmer. Do you guys want to take his picture?”

  Alice pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures of the cat and the tag. “Did you happen to notice who sat at the table closest to where the cat popped up?”

  “I’ve been going crazy trying to remember,” Peggy said. She glanced toward the kitchen where a broad-shouldered man was glaring in her direction. “Oops, I better get you guys seated before the boss blows a gasket. Do you want a table or a booth?”

  “Take us to the table nearest the cat discovery point,” Alice said.

  Peggy walked them to the front window. “Do you want lunch or just a snack? I have some wonderful strawberry pie. The strawberries aren’t local, of course, but they taste great.”

  Alice grinned up at Peggy. “Sounds like a good day to have dessert for lunch,” she said. “I’d like some strawberry pie with a cup of coffee, please.�


  “A small salad and tea,” Annie said, smiling, “and then a piece of pie.”

  “Salad and pie?” Alice asked.

  “The salad will make me feel virtuous.”

  Peggy dashed off to fill their order, and Alice looked at Annie, whose face had fallen back into a worried frown and asked, “We’ve found a major clue to two mysteries, so why do you look fretful instead of triumphant?”

  “I don’t like the way both mysteries are coming together,” Annie said. “Now I don’t know if I should tell Adam that the woman he’s looking for definitely seems to be here in Stony Point somewhere.”

  “Maybe if we find her, we can ask her,” Alice said. “We can let her decide whether to contact him.” Alice leaned forward. “In fact, I think this means we have to find her.”

  “Maybe,” Annie said. “I would like to tell her how sad he seems.”

  The women fell silent as Peggy brought their food. “This place was crazy this morning,” she said. “I think you two must be the only people in Stony Point who didn’t have breakfast with us. I know Addy from Dress to Impress sat here before she started work. She always sits where she can watch the shop.”

  “I don’t think it’s her,” Annie said tentatively. If Candace Caine was the one leaving the cats, she was older than the young shop girl.

  “Um, Liz Booth and Peter Warren had a late breakfast,” Peggy said. “They sat here.” She paused and wrinkled her brow. “Oh wait. No they didn’t. They sat there.” She gestured at the next table over and sighed. “Now I’m just confusing myself. I’ll keep thinking about it though.” Peggy turned as the door to the diner opened, and she hurried off to greet the three fishermen who stood inside.

  “You know, it’s amazing to me that Candace Caine has been here all along. John and Joanna have a book by her, and they love it.” Then Annie’s eyes opened wide. “You know, I found a couple picture books in the attic when I was bringing down all my grandfather’s books. I couldn’t decide whether to mail them to the twins or put them in the bookcase downstairs for the next time they visit, so I left them where they were for the time being. I believe they were Candace Caine books; in fact, I’m sure of it.”

  “Do you think looking at them would help?” Alice asked. “Though I imagine Adam has seen all those books—if there were clues in them, wouldn’t he have noticed?”

  “Probably,” Annie agreed. “What interests me is that they were in the attic at all. They weren’t mine. Adam said Candace Caine is only about my age, so the books weren’t from my childhood. Why would Gram have picture books in the attic?”

  “Maybe she was saving them to give to the twins as a gift?” Alice suggested.

  “In the attic? They were in a trunk. If Gram wanted to send them to John and Joanna, wouldn’t she keep them in her room or somewhere handy?”

  Alice smiled. “Maybe she got them from Candace. Betsy seemed to know everyone and their secrets.”

  “Well, I hate to jump to conclusions, but I think I need to take a second look at those books,” Annie said.

  “A trip to the attic!” Alice said, her eyes sparkling. “May I come? You know how I love attic adventures. We always seem to bring down something that triggers all kinds of chaos.”

  “I don’t know that I like looking at it that way,” Annie said.

  Alice shrugged. “I call them as I see them. So, when are we poking around the attic?”

  Annie looked over Alice’s lovely spring outfit of sage linen slacks and a cream sweater. “Are you sure you want to go attic adventuring in those clothes? I am trying to keep the dust down up there, but I’ve been so busy ….”

  “I can change,” Alice said, “and then come over. Oh, no, wait. I can’t do it this afternoon either. I have a Devine Décor party tonight, and I promised to bring muffins, which I haven’t even begun yet. You totally have to give me a rain check. You know how I love poking around for mysteries in the attic. I can come tomorrow.”

  “I think I can manage to hold off until then,” Annie said. “I still have John’s monkey cap to work on and a wild schnauzer to walk.”

  They finished up their snack and left money on the table, enough for food and tip. As they were heading toward the door, one of the fishermen called out to Alice. “Hello, pretty lady,” he said. “I was going to call you.”

  Alice smiled at him. “Sure you were, Stan. What brings you guys in from fishing so early?”

  “Storm coming,” Stan said. “I don’t think it’s a big one, but the weather report was full of dire threats, so we decided it was big enough.” He grinned, his eyes flashing. “Besides, we already had a decent haul, and we don’t want to be working too hard.”

  One of the other men burst out laughing. “I don’t think we have to worry about that too much with you!”

  “Hey, now, you’re making me look bad in front of my girl!”

  “I’m not your girl,” Alice said, “except maybe in your dreams.”

  This brought another burst of laughter, and Stan’s eyes sparkled. “I’ll spend the afternoon dreaming then!”

  Alice just shook her head as the group laughed again. She and Annie wove though the rest of the tables and headed outside.

  Annie looked fretfully up at the sky. “If it’s going to storm, I need to go take Tartan on another walk right away and put him inside before the storm comes. Ian has a nice little doghouse in the run, but I’m sure he wouldn’t want Tartan out in bad weather. The dog might even be afraid of storms. I know some dogs are.”

  “I probably need to put the top up on the convertible,” Alice said with a sigh. “Have a good walk with Tartan. I’ll head home and switch into baker mode. Do you want me to save you a muffin?”

  “Do you ever actually have leftovers?” Annie asked incredulously.

  “Not usually,” Alice said, “but I could hide one.”

  “That’s OK,” Annie said. “You should use them to wow your customers. You’ll sell a bunch once everyone is swooning over your baking.”

  “It doesn’t hurt,” Alice agreed.

  Annie was soon on her way to Ian’s. Tartan greeted her with the same enthusiasm he always showed. Since she’d had several days to practice, she managed to get his leash hooked on the first try. “I’m going to be a Tartan expert by the time Ian comes home,” she said as Tartan danced around her.

  They set off on a brisk walk, since Tartan didn’t know how to have any other kind of walk, and Annie thought about the mysterious author as she and Tartan hurried along. She wondered what could bring someone to change her name and hide in a town far from home. She thought of her old friend, Susan, who had done nearly the same thing once, but Susan had an excellent reason for running—she was running for her life.

  No matter how skeptical Annie tried to be, she just couldn’t picture Adam Smithfield as the kind of controlling monster that had driven Susan to run away. Annie felt herself pulled back and forth about the mystery. Was she being nosy by helping track down a woman who didn’t want to be found? On the other hand, curiosity was Annie’s weakness. She had never been good at leaving things undone.

  When she and Tartan finally got back to Ian’s, Annie led the dog into the mudroom and unhooked his collar. Tartan scratched at the door that led to the kitchen and whined. “I know,” Annie said. “I miss Ian too, but he’s not in there. I hope he’ll be home soon.” She squatted down and stroked the dog’s head. “I’m sure he misses you too.” Tartan gave her a small lick on the end of her nose for her kindness.

  When Annie headed for the back door, Tartan drooped a bit. “Oh, don’t do that,” Annie said. “If tomorrow is nice, I promise to take you for an extra walk on the beach right after Alice and I have our attic adventure. How about that?”

  Tartan perked up at the word “walk,” but then he flopped down with a sigh as Annie went on outside. Annie shook her head as she walked to her car. Pets certainly knew how to make a person feel guilty.

  She made the drive home quickly and smiled to
see Alice sitting on her front porch in one of the wicker rocking chairs. Alice stood up and waved as Annie passed by to pull into the driveway at Grey Gables.

  Annie walked across the lawn to the carriage house, and Alice gestured at the chair beside her. As Annie sat down she saw that Alice was holding a kitchen timer. “I’m timing the muffins,” Alice said. “Since I didn’t get to ride home with the top down, I thought I’d sit on the porch and watch the storm coming.”

  “I don’t think it’s going to be as fierce as the fishermen made out,” Annie said, “but I’ll only sit for a minute so I don’t get caught in it.”

  “How was your walk with Tartan?” Alice asked.

  “Guilt producing,” Annie said. “I promised him an extra walk tomorrow.”

  “You’re such a pushover,” Alice teased.

  The timer in her hand went off with a shrill beeping, making both women jump. Alice headed in to tend to her muffins, and Annie walked home. She stopped to admire the pink buds all over the flowering almond bush at the edge of Alice’s yard. She loved the dense pink blooms on the bush and wondered if she might find a spot somewhere in her yard for one.

  Boots greeted her with a cold snub—Annie once again smelled of dog—and she found that cat’s disapproval gave her several hours of uninterrupted crocheting on John’s cap. The notations Kate had made on the pattern made the color changes for the cap much easier, and when Annie stopped to put the cap away and fix supper, she’d not had to pull out a single row.

  14

  The next morning, Annie hurried to Ian’s at dawn to get in a quick walk with Tartan before Alice came over for their trip to the attic. The morning was foggy and threatened more rain later. As always, the dog greeted her with lavish affection. “I thought Boots made me feel good,” Annie said as she snapped on his leash, “but you’re like the whole welcome wagon stuffed into one furry body.”

  The fog still quietly covered the streets as they walked. It felt like a million tiny drops of icy rain against Annie’s skin. She wondered if that was what it would feel like if you could walk in the clouds. “It would probably be even colder,” she said aloud. Tartan look eagerly at her, and Annie stopped to pet his soft ears. “I’m afraid our beach walk might have to wait for another day, sweetie. It’s looking a bit soggy today, and I’m going to have to put you back inside. I promise to race over and let you out if the weather clears up.”

 

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