One Spoonful of Trouble (Felicity Bell Book 1)

by Nic Saint

  Felicity brought a hand to her brow, trying to regain her composure. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. For all we know, this is simply one of your uncle’s contracts. Somebody’s cats died, and they’ve asked him to take care of the burial.”

  “If he had, he would have told me about it. Besides, I thought he was running a strictly human operation here. I don’t even think he’s allowed to mess around with animals. Don’t you need some special license or something?”

  “I just hope he’s simply burying them, not some sick cat killer on the prowl.”

  Both women shivered at the thought of Uncle Charlie running around at night, knocking off cats and stuffing them into a gunny sack, all the while laughing maniacally.

  “I knew he was a bit…eccentric, but I never thought he was homicidal.”

  “I don’t think homicidal is the right word,” mused Felicity.

  “I think we should call Virgil.”

  “And throw your uncle to the wolves? I think we should give him a chance to explain first.”

  “Right. Of course.”

  “As soon as he returns from his congress, we’ll talk to him,” Felicity suggested.

  “And if he can’t come up with a reasonable explanation, we’ll hand him over to the proper authorities,” added Alice, who was a stickler for law and order.

  “Deal.”

  Felicity returned to her seat, though she didn’t really feel like prepping for her dinner date after the horrific discovery they just made. When her phone rang and she saw that it was Rick, she was glad of the opportunity to tell him what had just happened. She hoped the reporter in him would be able to come up with an explanation. And she was just about to launch into the mystery of the dead cats when he mentioned the calamity that had befallen him.

  She agreed that it would be hard to organize an intimate dinner while Bomer Calypso threw one of his parties. Nor could she blame him for not wanting to have dinner in town while Jerry and Johnny were still on the lookout.

  Then, suddenly, she had a brilliant idea. “Why don’t we have dinner at my place? I could cook, Alice could make herself scarce, and I will make sure to refuse all Jerrys and Johnnys, with or without fake NYPD badges.” She threw her friend a pleading look, and got a wide grin and two thumbs up in return.

  When she finally disconnected, an intimate candlelight dinner was in the bag, and she’d all but forgotten about the cat horror.

  She threw up her arms in a silent hurrah, then noticed the one armpit still fully covered in fur, and gave Alice another pleading look.

  Alice, with customary briskness, picked up the Gillette, and grunted, “Lather up!”

  CHAPTER 39

  The dismay Rick had felt when he saw Bomer striding up to the house, fully intent on filling it with the foulest representatives of New York’s club crowd, had dissipated by the time he ended his conversation with Felicity. In fact he felt so buoyed that he even clapped Bomer on the back while the latter was inspecting the living room, loudly instructing Fronk and Frank to ‘throw out all this garbage and festoon the place with garlands from baseboard to molding.’

  “You seem to feel a lot better,” Bomer said, when he caught his friend’s eye.

  “While you are celebrating the end of your engagement, I’m about to celebrate the beginning of mine,” he said with a wide smile. If all went according to plan, he felt, and dinner proved a mere prelude to wonderful things to come, he wouldn’t be surprised if tonight was the night he kissed Felicity for the very first time.

  Bomer eyed him with concern. “Don’t do it, buddy. Don’t even think about it.”

  “Eh? What? Think what about what?”

  He placed a brotherly arm around Rick’s shoulder. “Don’t get engaged. It’s not worth it. And this comes from a man with experience in such matters.”

  “But I love this woman,” Rick said.

  “That’s how it all starts, and next thing you know she’s telling you to lose twenty pounds, quit drinking, stop inviting your friends over for game night, and encouraging you to make something of yourself by applying yourself in your father’s company. Did I tell you that it was Charlene who talked father into cutting off my allowance and coercing me to start work? No? I thought so. Before I met your sister—”

  “Stepsister.”

  “Whatever. Before I met Charlene life was great, life was wonderful, life was a long string of happiness. Next thing I know, father is putting the squeeze on me and accusing me of being a wastrel and a disgrace to the family name. I’m asking you, is that the way to treat a beloved son?”

  “Felicity isn’t like that. She would never talk my father into setting me up at the firm.”

  “Apples and oranges, brother Rick.”

  “I really hate it when you call me that.”

  “Even if this—Felicity is what you call her?”

  “The most beautiful name in the world for the most beautiful girl in the world.”

  “Even if this Felicity asked your old man to give you a job, he wouldn’t. My old man? He’s been dying to put me to work. Only needed the teensiest tiniest excuse, which Charlene promptly decided to give him. I’m telling you, don’t do it.”

  “And I’m telling you that not all women are like my sister.”

  “Stepsister.”

  “Whatever. Felicity would never curtail my freedom. She has the kindest heart—”

  “Isn’t she the one who beaned you with a skillet?”

  “That was a simple misunderstanding.”

  “Watch your back, buddy, is all I’m saying.” He gave him a pointed look. “Watch your back like a hawk.”

  For a moment Rick wondered how he could watch his back—it seemed physically impossible, even to one as limber as himself—but then decided to let it go. It was clear to him that his friend was suffering from extreme emotions, and nothing he said or did would alter his opinion that marriage was just about the worst disaster that could befall a man. Instead, he sauntered up the stairs with a spring in his step, picked up his briefcase from the bed where he’d placed it, sauntered down again and then out the back door to the fishing lodge which was located at the bottom of the garden, right on the shoreline. Until he was due at Felicity’s, he would put in a few hours of honest work.

  He entered the small wooden shack, and found it just about the same as it had been many summers before, when he used to spend countless hours down here with Bomer playing pirate’s cave or civil war. Grover Calypso, an avid fisherman, had kept the place in pristine condition, and he looked with appreciative contentment at the sturdy table, the easy chair placed next to it, and the small television attached to the opposite wall. He eyed the fishing rods, neatly racked up, and had to admit it brought back fond memories of bygone summers.

  Then he plunked himself down in the chair, took his laptop from his briefcase, and fired it up. He would make Felicity proud by writing the best exposé on a billionaire crook ever written. Within minutes, he was deeply engrossed in his text, and wasn’t even aware of prying eyes studying him through the window.

  CHAPTER 40

  Alice stared at the cats. Felicity had come and gone, and after a great deal of work, was looking her level best, even if Alice said so herself, which she had, and Felicity had readily agreed. They’d tamed her hair, filed her nails, plucked her eyebrows, and generally done as complete a makeover as humanly possible in the time frame they had.

  But now that all the excitement had settled, and Felicity had run off to prepare Rick a meal he would never forget, she was wondering about those cats again. She scratched her short blond hair as she thought about what could possibly have induced her uncle to deposit five dead cats in a place usually reserved for dead humans. She wrinkled up her nose in a gesture of disapproval, and briefly considered giving him a call. He’d left his number ‘in case of emergency’, putting emphasis on the last word, and she wondered if this would fit into his definition of the term.

  Perhaps not, she decided. While it was c
ertainly unusual to store dead cats in a mortuary, it didn’t constitute a threat to anyone, and neither did she need the space they took up. While death works in mysterious ways, it does seem to follow the seasons. This being April, there was a dearth in deaths, and plenty of room in Charlie’s freezers.

  Poor creatures, she thought. They didn’t even look sick or anything.

  She wandered over to the showroom, and was just about to flip the card that indicated Charlie’s Funeral Delight was now closed for business, when she noticed a strange figure lurking outside. It was a man of bedraggled aspect, who seemed to waver whether to step inside or not. Since hers was essentially a kind heart, she opened the door and asked, “Can I help you, sir?”

  The man whirled around, startled, and stared at her for a beat. She saw that his clothes were tattered and torn, his face lined and haggard, and his bushy beard unkempt. “I’m, erm…” he began, then seemed to draw courage from Alice’s cheerful demeanor, and added, “it’s just that I’m, ah—I was wondering if I may use the bathroom.”

  Alice, who’d once been a girl scout, and had kept a good deed diary, instantly invited him in. “Restroom is to the left, past the oak caskets.”

  The man merely nodded, and started off in the direction indicated. Alice thought that his eyes, which were red-rimmed and shifty, looked just as curious as the man himself. Poor soul. Though she’d never really seen a beggar or homeless person in Happy Bays, she’d seen plenty of them in New York, and felt for them.

  Alice flipped the sign on the door from Open to Closed, locked the door, and pottered about, waiting for her late customer to return from his errand. Business had been slow today, and she’d finished all the paperwork. Now all that was left to do was go home, assist Felicity in preparing the meal of a lifetime, and then make herself scarce by going to see a movie, and fritter away the remaining hours at Jack’s Joint, her favorite hangout.

  And she’d just planned out her evening in broad strokes, when the man came shuffling back from the lavatory. There was a noticeable difference in his demeanor, as he appeared to have lost his hesitant gait, and walked straight up to her.

  “Anything else I can do for you?” she asked, well pleased. There was nothing comparable to the glow one felt when helping out a fellow human being in his hour of need.

  He scratched the purple wart on his forehead, then suddenly, and seemingly out of nowhere, produced a gun, and pointed it at her face. “You can give me all your money,” he said, “and be quick about it.”

  CHAPTER 41

  Alice now saw how wrong she’d been in deeming this man a victim of a cruel fate. In actual fact he was nothing more than a common criminal, and not even a good-looking one. He looked nothing like the crooks Johnny Depp sometimes portrayed, or Leonardo DiCaprio for that matter.

  One would think that dealing with dead people on a daily basis Alice would have become immune to the smell of decay but she wasn’t. Personal hygiene was one of her pet peeves, as was security. As a card-carrying member of the Happy Bays Neighborhood Watch Committee, she abhorred criminal behavior the same way she abhorred people who didn’t use deodorant or brush their teeth after every meal. She was a stickler on both fronts, and it was just in those two areas that she found this man lacking.

  “Well? What are you waiting for?” he snapped irritably. “Your money or your life, toots.”

  “Toots? Did you really just call me Toots?”

  “What’s it matter what I call you? If you don’t give me the money you’ll be joining those stiffs in the back.” He gestured with the gun. “Now move that bony ass!”

  There are moments in a man’s life when he finds himself at a crossroads. It was just one of those moments for Anton Ramsey as he stood waving his gun in Alice’s face. Ever since he’d tried to rob Rafi’s Deli and had failed miserably, he’d been dying to get some of his own back. He’d come to Happy Bays because he thought coppers in this haven of peace would be more forgiving to the criminal bent in his character than in his native city of New York. He’d had his fair share of disagreements with the NYPD and he disliked their tendency to throw him in jail at every possible opportunity.

  To his surprise he’d found an even more formidable foe on his first job in Happy Bays in the form of Felicity Bell. Having just walked free from prison, he now felt the town owed him, and he decided to give armed robbery another shot.

  Rafi’s Deli had been a hellhole filled with women armed to the teeth, so this time he’d set his mind on Charlie’s Funeral Delight, where he was quite sure he wouldn’t encounter similar resistance.

  Finally, Alice started following his instructions, and moved quickly. In fact she moved so quickly he had a hard time keeping up.

  “Hey, where the hell are you going?” he hollered as she sprinted along the showroom, and disappeared through a set of double doors in the back. Grumbling under his breath, he jogged after her. Though Happy Bays’s prison was a five-star hotel compared to the jails he’d done time in, being locked up had still rankled, and he was very low on patience.

  He burst through the doors, and found himself in a kind of operating room, the lights dimmed. He sought left and right for a sign of his victim. Finding her nowhere in evidence, he let rip a curse which would have surprised Virgil Scattering, a mild-mannered policeman not used to dealing with a big city gangster like Anton.

  “Stop playing games!” he hollered to no one in particular, and ducked down to search for the woman beneath the operating table. Taking a firm grip on his gun, he scanned the room, and saw that one wall consisted of metal cupboards of some kind. And it was then that he saw that one of them stood ajar. A cruel smile spread across his features.

  “Gotcha,” he whispered, and slowly made his way over, his gun poised and his upper lip curling back into a snarl.

  He now saw that the thing wasn’t a cupboard at all, but a big drawer. Reaching it, he let his gun do the talking by quickly pressing it down into the recesses of the drawer, then yanking it back with his other hand.

  What he saw wiped the smile from his face and sent his pulse through the roof.

  “Aaargh!” he cried, then quickly amended his statement to, “Whouaaaaah!”

  In the relative darkness of the room, it was hard to make out the exact contents of the drawer, but what he did see were five sets of glowing eyes. Then there was a loud hissing noise, sharp fangs were bared, and as one body the monsters lurking in the drawer suddenly sprang forth, and attacked him!

  This set the seal on his worst fears. Never an intrepid man, Anton Ramsey fought against the demon attacking him for one brief second, then sprang away as if his pants were on fire, and raced to the exit, all the while screaming like a banshee. Reaching the showroom, he didn’t stop to admire the view, nor did he worry about having left his gun on the floor of the operating room. He reached the front door in three seconds flat—setting a personal record in the process—and was rattling the doors before finally having the common sense to turn the key, and burst out into the street.

  Happy Bays, far from being happy at all, had proved even worse than New York City. Give me that great city’s dangers any day, Anton thought as he ran like a hare down Colbert Street and before long was well on his way out of town.

  Back at Charlie’s, Alice emerged from the small room adjacent to the operating room, its door well concealed. She was carrying the shotgun Uncle Charlie kept there, and was checking the premises for any sign of her surprise visitor. Frankly bewildered, she was surprised when she found him not amongst those present. What she did find were five cats, now roaming around freely, having been rudely awakened by Anton, and meowing furiously in search of food.

  Flicking on the lights, she walked over to the drawer where she and Felicity had found the cats, and saw that it had been neatly outfitted with blankets to accommodate them.

  So they hadn’t been dead after all. She smiled, understanding what must have happened while she was loading up for bear. The crook must have disturbed the cats’
slumber, and alarmed by his foul stench, the dears must have attacked what they considered a prowler on their domain.

  She picked up one of the cats, and petted it tenderly. The small feline instantly broke into ecstatic purring.

  “You’re hungry, aren’t you?” she cooed, and took the cat into the kitchenette. Its four furry friends instantly trotted after her. She was surprised to find a big bowl of kibble placed on a small plastic coverlet on the floor next to the fridge. She hadn’t even noticed it before. Searching further, she found a bag of cat food, a Post-it attached to it scribbled in her uncle’s near illegible scrawl.

  took in five strays

  set them up in drawer

  don’t forget to feed

  She grinned. “Oh, I will,” she muttered, setting down the tabby. She liberally strewed some more kibble into the bowl. Moments later, the only sound emanating from the kitchen was a contented chewing. Alice sat down at the table, took out her cell, and put in a call to Virgil Scattering. While she waited for the call to connect, the title of Felicity’s next article occurred to her.

  ‘Funeral Home Employee Saved By Stray Cats.’

  CHAPTER 42

  Felicity was humming Taylor Swift’s ‘Shake It Up’ as she set the table. It wasn’t the first time that Rick was coming over, but at least this time his presence had been announced, and she could create just the sort of environment she’d always envisioned for the first date with the man she truly loved. For that it was love that was fueling her thoughts when they turned to Rick was now obvious.

  The quickening of her pulse, the racing of her heart, and those flutterings in the pit of her stomach could no longer be denied. Love had come to her in that surreptitious way it often does. The moment he’d thrown that can of peas, she’d been caught unawares. She’d been so busy thinking him a crook that she hadn’t noticed Cupid orchestrating the whole thing from the wings.