Crafts, Cat Burglars, and Murder

by Stacey Alabaster

  What the heck was going on?

  Chapter 11

  This time, I made sure to catch Sian at the start of her shift on the street corner, not the end of it. I figured she wouldn’t take off before she had collected a full afternoon’s tips and donations.

  I approached with a handful of quarters and threw them into the guitar case. As I did, I looked down at my fingers and realized that they were red and scaly around the nail cuticle. “What the…” I murmured, staring down at the marks.

  Sian did her best to ignore me and to stay focused when I approached. My plan had been to wait till she finished her first song and quickly ask her a question, but she barely paused for breath when the first one ended, launching straight into the second, a cover of an old Tracey Chapman song that had been popular in my youth.

  Okay then. I could see I was about as welcome as a kick in the head right then.

  She had to pause for breath between the second and third songs, and to take a sip of water. I took my chance.

  But she interrupted me.

  “You know, you are seriously obsessed with my ex-boyfriend. What, did you have a fling with him or something, before he died?”

  I took a little offense at the suggestion, but I tried not to show that I was annoyed. I needed her to open up to me, not close off again.

  “I’m not here to talk about Andrew. Well, not directly. Sian, I’m hear to talk about Dylan.”

  I saw what I could have sworn was a flash of fear splinter across her face, but she tried to cover it up with a laugh. “I suppose he really did charm you the other night,” she said, then raised her eyebrows. “If you really want his number, then I’ll write it down for you. You got a pen?”

  I took a step closer to her. There was no one else watching the scene now that she had finished playing. “I have no romantic interest in that young man,” I said firmly, still trying to keep my voice calm. “I want to know what connection Dylan has with those cats that Andrew stole from the shelter.”

  Yep, I definitely hadn’t imagined it—the fear was back and it was spread all over Sian’s face.

  “I’ve already told you,” she said in a low growl. “I’ve got nothing to say to you about Andrew…” She gulped. “Or about Dylan. None of it.”

  “Please, Sian. Just tell me what you know about Dylan and the cats at the shelter.”

  Her voice was starting to sound teary. “I don’t want to talk to you about this,” she whispered, looking around like she was afraid we were being watched. “I already told you to butt out of it. For your own good.”

  “For my own good?” I took a step back. “What are you talking about?”

  She looked around again, getting more and more frightened. “Let’s just say you’re lucky you got rid of all the cats when you did. And that you found safe homes for all of them.” She stared at me. “You did, didn’t you?”

  Oh my goodness. Carrot.

  I gulped. “Yes. Well, all except for one of them,” I just barely managed to whisper.

  Sian face completely dropped. Her own worry shot fear into my heart and it began to pound. Had I just made the biggest mistake of my life, taking Carrot back to that shelter?

  “What happened to the last cat?”

  “I—I took him back to the shelter.”

  Sian heaved a little sigh of relief. “That’s okay then,” she said, smiling. “The shelter is safe now.”

  I felt relief flood me as well. Then I stopped. “Hang on, what do you mean ‘now,’ Sian?”

  “Now that Dylan no longer works there,” she said, her voice grave. “He quit after Andrew found out what he was doing with the cats. Threatened to turn him into the cops.”

  The panic was back in my chest.

  I shook my head. I wanted to shake her as well, to make her see what was at stake. “No, Sian. Dylan is back at the shelter. I saw him working there this morning. That’s why I came to find you. I knew it couldn’t just be pure coincidence.”

  Sian gasped. “Dylan’s back at the shelter?” She shook her head in denial. “No, no, he can’t be…”

  “He is. Tell me what you know, Sian.”

  She gulped. “Have you met Natalie?” she whispered.

  “Yes. I went to her house the other day to get my nails done.” I brought my hands out of my coat pockets and showed her. The red scales around my cuticles seemed to have gotten worse.

  Sian glanced down at my hands. “Natalie has been trying to make her own line of makeup. I’m not sure if she told you about it. But she has been trouble getting FDA approval and some people—” She stopped and nodded at my hands. “—claimed that her products made them break out in hives.”

  I shoved my hands back into my coat pockets.

  Sian’s eyes grew watery. “So she needed something to test her makeup on.”

  Chills ran down my spine.

  Oh my goodness.

  Natalie was using the cats to test makeup on.

  “So that’s why Andrew took Natalie’s cat from her…” I gasped. “Because he was trying to save the poor thing from a terrible fate?”

  Sian nodded. “When Andrew found out what her plan was, he stole her cat from her. Saved him. Don’t worry, he was never harmed. Andrew got him in time. And then reported her for animal cruelty, so she had to surrender the pet to the shelter. But she tells everyone she gave him up of her own free will.” Sian shook her head. “I thought that was going to be the end of it…”

  “But it wasn’t?”

  Sian shook her head. “I didn’t want anything to happen to that poor cat either, but Andrew took things too far after that. He became obsessed with saving all the cats in the shelter…maybe he had good reason to be fearful, but I couldn’t deal with it, staying at his house when there were ten cats trying to share the bed. I had to break up with him, eventually. I told him it was the cats, or me.”

  “What did Natalie do, when she didn’t have Banana anymore?” I asked Sian. “Did she just give up on her plan?”

  Sian looked distressed. “As far as I know, all that happened was that Natalie went down to the shelter, trying to get Banana back. Dylan was there, volunteering. He said he could give Banana back to her, quietly, if she didn’t tell the manager Tom.”

  “Wait,” I said, interrupting. “Are you telling me that Tom didn’t know anything about any of this?”

  “As far as I know, he was completely oblivious,” Sian said.

  If Tom was innocent, did I owe him an apology for being so suspicious? In the end. Jasper had still been right that night when he’d been nudging his nose against the leash. It was someone at the shelter who was responsible, just a different person than I’d first assumed.

  Sian was still talking.

  “When Banana wasn’t there, Natalie asked Dylan if he could slip another cat to her, quietly. Her and Dylan struck up a deal—that he would take the cats from the shelter for her to use and Natalie would pay him. Andrew found out, and that’s when he started taking them from the shelter, before Natalie could get them. He stole a copy of the shelter keys from Dylan, so he had no trouble breaking in and freeing the cats.”

  “How did Andrew find out about the plan?” I asked.

  “Andrew found out what Dylan was doing on the side. Or, planning to do. I mean, Dylan does have a habit of getting drunk and saying way too much,” Sian said, still looking over her shoulder like she was scared someone was listening to what she was saying. As far as I knew, Dylan was still at the shelter. We were safe.

  “He was stupid enough to tell Andrew one night, after they had finished playing a gig together. Andrew threatened to tell the police what Dylan had done. Animal cruelty carries a jail term around here, and so Dylan…”

  “Killed Andrew,” I whispered.

  “I—I don’t know for sure he did it,” Sian said, trying to sound convincing, though she was choking up. “I kept telling myself that it wasn’t possible. I mean, he couldn’t have really killed Andrew, right?”

  I reached i
nto my pocket and pulled out the guitar pick that I’d found at Andrew’s place, laying next to the dead body. “Sian, does this belong to Andrew? Or to Dylan? I found it laying next to Andrew’s body the day I found him laying there, dead.”

  “D-Dylan,” she said, gasping. “It’s Dylan’s. Andrew never had one like that!” she gasped, her voice trembling.

  “Sian, why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

  “Because…” she said, her eyes filled with tears. “I’m scared of Dylan. Look what he did to Andrew. I’m scared for you as well, George, if you don’t stay away from him.” Sian was crying. “This is all just too much…losing Andrew…and now, being terrorized by Dylan. I just don’t know what to do…”

  “It’s okay,” I said, wrapping my arms around her. “You can sleep at my house tonight. I’ve got a very good guard dog.”

  I was still figuring out my plan of attack.

  First thing in the morning, I had to go in and get Carrot back. That was the first priority, whether Dylan was there or not. The shelter was already closed by the time I got Sian home, and Tom had long since made me give my copy of the key back. I deeply regretted not making a second.

  I barely slept, waiting for my alarm to go off at 7:00 so I could be there as soon as the shelter opened.

  I left Sian to sleep on the sofa, pulling a blanket over her and making Jasper sleep on the floor beside her, for security.

  “Oh! George, right?” Dylan said with a grin, looking me up and down as I approached the front counter.

  I tried to stay composed and confident. “That’s right. You’ve got a good memory.”

  “So, how have you been?” he asked me smoothly as he leaned forward. “You ever consider taking me up on my offer of a date?”

  Not in a million, billion years.

  But I still had to play nice for a little while. “Maybe when my schedule clears up a little,” I said, trying to keep my voice friendly.

  Dylan looked a little taken aback. I supposed he wasn’t used to woman turning him down. Even older women.

  “So what can I do for you today?” Dylan asked, sounding less friendly now.

  “I was thinking about adopting a cat, actually. I especially like ginger cats, if you have any of those.”

  Dylan shook his head slowly. “No, I haven’t seen any of those.”

  My blood was boiling. I’d only dropped Carrot off the night before and there was no way anyone could have adopted him that quickly.

  “Are you sure?” I asked him. “Can you double-check for me?”

  Dylan was glaring at me. “I know who you are! You’re that woman that Sian was talking about, the one snooping around, looking for info about Andrew!”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted another figure, behind Dylan, barely illuminated.

  It was Tom, standing in the dark, with a cat in his arms. About to escape out the back door.

  It was Carrot.

  And I suddenly realized something I’d failed to see the day before. If Dylan was no longer working at the shelter, then why had Andrew stolen the cats the week before?

  There was no reason at all. Unless the cats were still in danger.

  If Dylan was such a terrible volunteer, why would Tom have let him come back to work there?

  “Tom…” I called out, taking a step towards him. “Where are you going with that cat?”

  With one arm still gripping Carrot, he used his other hand to reach into a pocket and pull out a knife.

  “Stay back, Georgina.”

  “You took over from Dylan when he quit, didn’t you?” I asked, my voice low and even, keeping an eye on the knife the whole time. “So Andrew had to keep taking the cats? Why weren’t you here on the day I was volunteering on my own? Were you with Natalie, striking up a deal?”

  Tom’s face went red. “I’m not kidding,” he said, holding the knife out with shaking hands. “I’m not afraid to use this!”

  But it was me who was not afraid. He was still holding Carrot and I was not about to let anything happen to that cat.

  Tom’s voice was shaking even more than his hand was. “Do you think this place runs on fresh air alone? Do you think the donations are enough to keep it going? Do you think we have enough resources to even home all the animals? You don’t understand, George.”

  I shook my head. “Nothing excuses cruelty to animals. You are NOT taking that poor cat to Natalie’s. I won’t let you.”

  And neither would Carrot. With one mighty meow, Carrot broke free of Tom’s grip and used his claws to press against Tom’s chest, springing free and causing Tom to drop the knife.

  “Carrot!” I screamed, running for him, but Dylan got in my way and pushed me over.

  My hands took the brunt of the fall, grazing against the hard cement of the floor, but I ignored the pain and got back up. I had to get Carrot before they took him.

  He was backed up under a shelf, shivering and hiding.

  “Carrot!” I called out. “It’s time to be brave now! Please, boy, come here,” I called to him.

  He glanced around at Tom, then Dylan, then ran towards me and leapt into my arms.

  “Oh, you are a good kitty after all, aren’t you, boy?” I said, picking him up.

  The doors to the shelter opened and in walked a determined looking Sian, with Ryan right behind her, holding out a badge.

  “I wasn’t about to let you do this on your own, George,” Sian said, staring Dylan down.

  He shook his head fiercely. “You’re the one who did this!” he spat. “You’re going to be sorry for this, Sian.”

  She shook her head.

  “No, I’m not. This is done, Dylan. It’s over. You’re going to jail.”

  Epilogue

  Carrot was purring in my arms, happy to be back in the place he most considered home, the craft store.

  Brenda came up and gingerly reached out to pet him. “Poor little fella,” she said softly, surprising me. “He’s been through an awful lot.” She looked up at me. “What are you going to do with him now?”

  It had been a few days since Dylan’s arrest, and after being charged with Andrew’s murder, he wasn’t going to be getting out of jail any time soon. Tom hadn’t been officially charged with anything, but he had already resigned from the shelter and they had several applicants for a new manager. The owners had asked me to look through the resumes and to choose the best, safest fit.

  As for Natalie, she was not going to be getting approval for her beauty brand any time soon.

  “Well, he can’t stay at the shop indefinitely,” I said with a heavy sigh. “You and I both know that. So I’m going to have to think of another plan for him.”

  Brenda reached over and took him out of my arms. To my surprise, Carrot snuggled right into her arms, looking as happy and as comfy as I had ever seen him.

  “I think I have an idea of what to do with you, little man,” Brenda said. “I think you’re going to have to come home with me. Permanently.”

  I just stood there with my mouth agape for so long that my jaw actually began to ache.

  “Brenda…” I said, in shock. “I can’t believe you’re actually offering to adopt Carrot. Are you sure? Have you thought this through?”

  Still carrying Carrot, she walked over to the open cat cage at the back and bent over to place him inside.

  “I don’t know why you’re acting so surprised,” Brenda said, straightening up. “I am a cat lover after all. I already have a little rescue cat at home.”

  What?

  “You do?” I asked in surprise.

  Brenda nodded. “A little grey and white thing I adopted a few months back. He had a strange name but I didn’t dare to change it. Somehow it seemed to fit him. His name is Banana.”

  Thanks for reading Crafts, Cat Burglars, and Murder. I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you did, it would be awesome if you left a review for me on Amazon and/or Goodreads.

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  Preview: Up in Smoke

  I could feel my hair puffing up like cotton candy in the humidity as I stepped outside the Miami airport. I pushed a sticky strand from my face, and I wished for a minute that it were a cheerful pink instead of dirty blond, just to complete the illusion.

  “Thank you so much for picking me up from the airport.” I smiled at the sprightly old lady I was struggling to keep up with. “But why did you say my grandmother couldn’t pick me up?”

  “I didn’t say.” She turned and gave me a toothy grin—clearly none of them original—and winked. “I parked over here.”

  When we got to her car, she opened the trunk and threw in the sign she had been holding when she met me in baggage claim. The letters were done in gold glitter glue and she had drawn flowers with markers all around the edges. My name “Nikki Rae Parker” flashed when the sun reflected off of them, temporarily blinding me.