Faux Paw: A Magical Cats Mystery

by Sofie Kelly

  And then I got it. “I could call Rebecca,” I said slowly. “She might know something about Diana and Marshall Holmes. It’s possible Everett knew Charles Holmes.”

  Owen turned and headed back to the kitchen, making muttering sounds all the way. Trust a cat to want to have the last word.

  I sat down on the bench by the window in the porch and took my cell out of my pocket.

  “Hello, my dear, how are you?” Rebecca asked when she answered the phone.

  “I’m well, Rebecca,” I said. “How are you?” Hearing her voice automatically made me smile.

  “Well, at the moment I’m beating the pants off Everett at Texas Hold’em,” she said.

  “She cheats,” I heard Everett call in the background.

  Rebecca laughed. “He’s not losing graciously.”

  “That’s because you’re cheating,” he countered.

  “I won’t keep you,” I said. “I was hoping you might be able to get a little information for me.”

  “Does this have something to do with everything that’s happened at the library?” she asked, lowering her voice a little.

  “Yes,” I said, wondering if this was such a good idea after all. I didn’t want to put her in any kind of conflict with Everett.

  “I’d love to help, my dear. What do you need? And don’t worry about Everett.”

  “How do you manage to read my mind?” I asked.

  “It’s my secret power,” she said. I could imagine her smiling as she said the words.

  “Well I’m glad you’re using it for good and not for evil,” I teased.

  “So how can I help?”

  “Do you know anything about Marshall or Diana Holmes?” Owen was sitting at my feet, intently watching my face.

  “I know Everett did some business with their father, Charles. That’s how the exhibit ended up coming to the library. I can certainly find out more about them.”

  I pulled my free hand down over the back of my head. “I don’t want to put you in a difficult position, Rebecca.”

  She laughed, and somehow the warmth of the sound came through the phone at me. “Oh, Kathleen, there’s nothing difficult about playing a nosy old lady. Give me a day and I’ll see what I can find out for you.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “I’m happy to help.”

  We said good night and I hung up the phone.

  I went back into the kitchen to discover a guilty-looking Owen under the table and the garbage can tipped over on the floor.

  “Owen!” I exclaimed.

  This wasn’t the first time Owen had tipped over the trash, although he hadn’t done it in a while. The last time, he’d leapt on the can in an ill-advised effort to snag a scarf from the hooks by the door.

  He hung his head, but I could see one eye watching to gauge how mad I was.

  I set the can upright and sent a stern look in the cat’s direction. “Don’t do that again,” I warned. “Or it won’t be Hercules who’s making your chickens disappear.”

  I cleaned up the mess and then went to the sink to wash my hands. I felt a furry body wind around my ankles. I bent down and picked Owen up.

  “Merow?” he said, cocking his head to one side.

  “I’m still mad at you,” I said.

  He leaned forward and nuzzled the side of my face.

  “I am,” I insisted. “You can’t jump up onto the garbage can. You’re not one of the Flying Wallendas. Next time I go to the thrift store I’ll get you a scarf.”

  His response was to lick my chin. I couldn’t help feeling that somehow I’d just been had.

  I set Owen back on the floor and he walked over to the back door and looked in the direction of Rebecca’s little house. Then he turned his wide golden eyes on me.

  “She’s in,” I told him. “The game is afoot.”

  20

  I was just coming around the side of the carriage house in the morning, heading back to my truck and feeling very grateful for my boots because it had rained overnight and it looked like it was going to start again, when Marcus called.

  “Hi,” he said. “Where are you?”

  “I’m up at Wisteria Hill,” I said, wiping my feet on the grass by the front of the old building before walking back to the truck. “I just fed Lucy and the others.”

  “Roma’s out of town?” he said. “Where did she go? When did that happen?” He’d suddenly switched into what I thought of as cop mode, for some reason.

  “She’s not out of town,” I said, opening the truck door and tossing the bag with the food dishes onto the floor on the passenger side. “She had an early surgery so I volunteered to come up.”

  I brushed off my jeans and slid behind the wheel. “Did you need Roma for something? Is Micah okay?”

  “She’s fine,” he said. “She swiped part of a piece of toast off my plate this morning, but other than her possible criminal bent, she’s fine.”

  It had taken a little persuasion from Roma and me to get Marcus to adopt the small ginger tabby, but they made a good pair. She brought out the softer side of him that a lot of people didn’t always get to see.

  “It’s nothing,” Marcus continued. “I’m just a bit surprised you’re out there without me.”

  I smiled. I had good memories of feeding the cat colony with him as we’d gotten to know each other. “Roma asked me at tai chi last night,” I said. “I figured you’d be tied up with the case. Has anything changed?”

  He exhaled loudly. “We’re going to start searching the library, book by book, this morning, but it’s going to take some time. Do you know how many items we’ll have to go through?”

  “Forty-one thousand eight hundred and fifteen, counting DVDs and CDs,” I said. I paused for a moment. “Give or take.”

  He laughed. “Okay, I deserved that.”

  “Are we still on for tonight?” I asked as I fished my keys out of the pocket of my jeans.

  “Yes,” he said. “I was planning on picking you up at about six thirty, if that works.”

  Mayville Heights was experimenting with offering some outdoor concerts on the Riverwalk during the spring and summer. The senior high band was kicking things off with a concert planned for seven fifteen on the grassy area in front of the St. James Hotel.

  “That’s fine, but I think it’s a safe bet that we’ll be in the community center, not outside, judging by how it looks overhead.” I leaned forward to look through the windshield. Gray clouds were rolling across the sky.

  “That’s okay,” he said. “That’ll work.”

  I heard voices in the background. “I have to go. I’ll see you at six thirty and then we’ll pick up Roma.”

  Marcus had suggested we invite Roma to go to the concert with us. “You and I are together and Maggie is seeing Brady Chapman.” He’d managed not to roll his eyes at the last part. “I know Roma has Eddie, but he’s not here.”

  I knew Roma was still struggling with the idea that Eddie wanted to marry her. I thought it might be a good idea to get her out of the house for a while, so I’d enlisted Maggie to help me convince Roma to join us all at the concert. What I really wanted was to tell her to trust that Eddie loved her and to marry him. I agreed with Maggie: There was more than one way to make a family. I also wanted to tell her not to waste any time with him, but I hadn’t exactly listened when she and Maggie had tried to tell me that about Marcus, so when she talked about Eddie I listened and tried not to judge.

  I spent a large part of the day at Maggie’s studio, trying to keep the various groups that had relocated from the library working in their temporary space. Abigail came to help me and I was very glad to have her unflappable presence beside me.

  Marcus pulled up to the house at twenty-five minutes after six. He was wearing jeans and a gray V-neck pullover with a navy T-shirt underneath and a bl
ack rain slicker. He’d shaved again and he smelled like a combination of spicy aftershave and Juicy Fruit gum.

  “There’s something I really need to tell you before we go get Roma,” he said. He suddenly looked very serious. “I should have told you days ago and I’m sorry.”

  My cell phone rang then. I held up a hand. “Hold on a sec,” I said.

  It was Harry Taylor.

  “Hi, Kathleen,” he said. “I was at the library and it’s raining.”

  “I noticed,” I said.

  “Well, the police took down the rain chain and a section of gutter. I’m pretty sure we’ve got some water going into the loading-dock area. I need to get in there and turn on the pump. Do I need to call Marcus Gordon?”

  “Hang on, Harry,” I said. “Marcus is here with me.” I quickly explained what was going on. “Can I go let Harry into the loading dock? Please? We won’t be going in to the library proper.”

  He nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “I’m on my way,” I told Harry.

  “No need,” he said. “I’m almost at your place.”

  “Okay,” I said. I dropped my phone into my pocket. “You go get Roma, save me a seat. I’ll meet you at the concert,” I said to Marcus.

  “Kathleen, we really need to talk,” he said.

  “After the concert. I promise.” I gave him a quick kiss that landed on his chin instead of his mouth, and then I dashed out into the rain.

  Harry was waiting in his truck. At the library, we walked around to the loading dock and he gave me a boost up. I’d already called the evening security guard to let him know we’d be banging around at the back of the building. I didn’t want him to think someone was trying to break in.

  There was just a small amount of water inside. Harry got the pump working while I walked around to make sure everywhere else was dry.

  “We’re good for now,” Harry said, “but we need to get that gutter and chain back up as soon as we can.”

  I nodded. “I’ll talk to Marcus.”

  I made it to the community center with five minutes to spare.

  I could see Marcus four rows from the front. Roma was on the aisle and there was an empty seat next to Maggie and Brady with Maggie’s coat across the back.

  “Thanks, Mags,” I said, dropping into the folding chair next to her and handing back her coat.

  She smiled. “Don’t thank me. It was Brady’s idea.”

  I leaned around her and smiled at Burtis Chapman’s oldest son. He may have been a lawyer and his dad may have been a businessman who danced around the edges of the law, but father and son were a lot alike and I liked them both. “Thank you for saving seats for us,” I told him.

  “Anytime, Kathleen,” he said with a smile that was just like his father’s, too.

  “Everything okay at the library?” Marcus asked.

  I nodded. “Harry got the pump working.” I leaned across him and smiled at Roma.

  “Marcus said you had to go to the library. Is everything all right?” Roma asked.

  “Harry saved the day, as usual,” I said.

  “How were the cats this morning?”

  “They all looked fine. Smokey ate well and he doesn’t seem to be limping as much.”

  Smokey was the oldest of the feral cat colony as far as Roma knew. He’d injured his leg just before Christmas and had had a slow recuperation, but in the past month he’d seemed to be doing a lot better.

  “How did your surgery go?” I asked.

  “Better than I hoped,” Roma said, tucking her dark hair behind one ear.

  She gave me a brief rundown on the operation to stabilize the hip of a black lab that had been hit by a car. I liked to listen to Roma talk about her work. I found it fascinating. The librarian in me loved to learn about pretty much everything. The members of the band began to take their places then, and I straightened up.

  The concert began with a selection of classical pieces. The senior band was very, very good, one of the top school bands in the state, mostly because of their music director, Tony Morrow. He was short and stocky, built like an MMA fighter, with a deep love of music. I knew from his borrowing habits that he had eclectic taste in music, and I’d come to enjoy seeing him come into the library and being able to talk to him about what he was listening to in a given week.

  Tony’s enthusiasm for music was contagious, and when he’d mentioned the upcoming concert to me, I’d promised to be there.

  Marcus put a hand on my arm. “I need to tell you something,” he whispered.

  Before he could say another word, Maggie leaned forward and glared at him. I smiled and mouthed the word “later.” Marcus looked . . . troubled. Whatever he was going to say had to have something to do with the case. It could wait.

  The second part of the program was more contemporary music, and the kids all looked a little less serious. They launched into Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’,” and Tony’s grin stretched from ear to ear as he conducted. He shot a look in my direction and winked.

  Roma was in the aisle seat. She smiled and leaned around Marcus. “Kathleen, did you do this?” she whispered. It was her favorite song.

  “Not me. I swear,” I said, smiling back at her. Maggie poked me in the ribs with her elbow. I pressed my lips together and tried to look contrite.

  Marcus still looked uncomfortable. Brady, on the other side of Maggie, was grinning like a fool. A bad feeling began to buzz at the base of my skull.

  “No,” I said softly.

  Maggie looked back over her shoulder, then grabbed my arm. “Kath,” she said, her voice low and tight.

  I glanced back. Eddie had just walked in. The buzzing in my head got louder. He was wearing a suit and carrying a single red rose.

  I met Maggie’s eyes. “No,” I said again.

  He looked so damn happy. I had a Walter Mitty–esque fantasy in which I jumped up and tackled Eddie before he made it to us. But given that I was a five-foot six-inch librarian and he was six foot four inches of NHL hockey player, it wasn’t going to happen.

  The song ended with a flourish just as Eddie made it to us. He dropped to one knee and held out the rose. Roma looked at Eddie and then back at Maggie and me. She didn’t look panicked or even surprised. She just looked . . . sad. She got to her feet and took the flower he was holding out.

  There was so much love shining on Eddie’s face that my chest tightened. I didn’t know who to hurt more for: him or Roma.

  “Roma Davidson, I love you,” Eddie said, his voice edged with emotion. “Will you marry me?”

  She didn’t answer. She just looked at him while what seemed like half the town watched and waited.

  I looked in Tony’s direction, trying to get his attention. “Play!” I mouthed urgently, shaking my hand in the air.

  He looked surprised, but something in my expression compelled him to lift his baton and start the next song. It was Donna Summer’s “She Works Hard for the Money.” I knew that wasn’t a coincidence. It was another of Roma’s favorites.

  Eddie’s smile faded. He was still holding Roma’s hand and she still hadn’t said a word. Slowly he got to his feet.

  I tipped my head in the direction of the door to the hallway. “Go,” I whispered at him. I touched Roma’s arm. “Go with Eddie,” I said softly.

  She didn’t turn to look at me or say a word, but she went with him, still holding hands, and the whole room applauded.

  I looked at Maggie and tried to swallow down the lump in my throat. It wouldn’t go.

  “She needs us,” Maggie said.

  I nodded. “I know.”

  Everyone’s attention was back on the music. Two girls and a boy, all in black-framed shades, were rocking their sax solo. Beside me Marcus looked . . . guilty. Suddenly everything made sense. He’d been in on this. That’s what he’d been trying to t
ell me. By the look on Brady’s face, him, too.

  Why on earth hadn’t Marcus said something sooner?

  He caught my hand as I started to slip past him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  I felt a surge of frustration. I yanked my hand away. “You’re such a guy!” I hissed.

  Eddie was standing in the hallway.

  Alone.

  He turned to look at us, sadness etched in every line on his handsome face. “She left,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. It didn’t seem like enough, but I didn’t have any other words.

  “I thought she’d say yes.” He tugged at the knot in his tie. “I don’t care about the age difference or kids or anything.” He blew out a breath. “Will you two please just . . . be with her?” He made a helpless gesture toward the outside door with one hand.

  I nodded.

  Maggie hesitated. Then she put a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “She loves you,” she said. “That hasn’t changed.”

  He nodded, barely, in response.

  Maggie turned to me, zipping up her jacket as she did. “We should go find Roma,” she said.

  I touched Eddie’s arm for a brief moment and then followed her out.

  “Which way?” Maggie asked once we were out on the sidewalk. She looked up and down the empty street. There was no sign of Roma in either direction.

  I pointed left. “That way,” I said and started walking.

  “Are you sure?” Maggie said, easily catching up with me with her long legs.

  “Yes,” I said. My bangs were hanging in my face. I brushed them back with one hand. “No. I don’t know. Roma came with Marcus. If she’s walking home, she’ll go this way.”

  The street curved and there was no sign of Roma in the block ahead of us. We’d come out the back door, so I pulled Maggie down a block, jaywalking in the middle of the street. Up ahead I caught sight of Roma, walking rapidly down the sidewalk, shoulders hunched, the hood of her jacket pulled up against the light rain.

  “Can you run in those?” Mags asked, looking down at my high-heeled boots. She was wearing her red high-tops.