by Sofie Ryan
“Okay,” I said, slowly, “what’s the second ‘but’?”
“I think she’s shy. She doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends. That doesn’t mean she’s been trying to derail the shows. Maybe it just means she’s a bit lonely.”
I thought about the woman I’d just met. She had been very protective of her cat. And she’d threatened Cleveland. Rose tended to see the best in people most of the time. Maybe she was right about Kimber Watson.
But maybe she wasn’t.
Chapter 11
Rose and I picked up Debra and Socrates at the end of the day. I was a little worried that Elvis might have a problem with another cat being around. Rose had kept him on the front seat with her and I’d heard her explaining to him that Debra and Socrates were going to be staying for a few days.
“I’m sure the cats will get along just fine,” she’d said as we headed for the inn. “They’re already friends from the show.”
When Debra climbed into the SUV with Socrates in his carrier, Elvis peered over the seat and meowed. Socrates meowed back. Neither cat seemed bothered by the other. Maybe Rose was right. Maybe they did consider themselves friends. Maybe I was overthinking everything.
“I like your house,” Debra said as we pulled into the driveway.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Rose, are you sure I’m not imposing?” she asked.
Rose was shaking her head before Debra had finished asking the question. “Of course you’re not,” she said. “I’m happy to have you and I’m glad you decided to stay for the show.” She held up one hand. “And before I forget, Alfred has everything you need for Socrates.”
Debra blinked hard several times. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“We just want to help,” I said. “I’m glad we can. Even just a little.”
We helped Debra carry in what few things she’d brought with her.
“Can you join us for supper?” Rose asked me.
“Merow!” Elvis said, starting for her apartment door.
“Elvis!” I called after him. He stopped and looked back over his shoulder at me, eyes narrowed in annoyance.
I smiled at Rose. “Thank you for the invitation, but Mac is bringing pizza.”
I had no idea how many words the cat actually understood—sometimes I suspected it was a lot more than I knew—but he definitely knew the word “pizza.” He did an about-face and came back to our apartment door, giving a soft murp in Rose’s direction as he passed her.
Rose smiled. “Another time, then,” she said. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to the cat or me.
I told Rose we’d head to the shop at the usual time in the morning and we said good night. Then I unlocked the apartment door. Elvis went inside ahead of me the way he always did, but then he stopped and turned to face the door again. I almost fell over him.
“Move,” I said.
His response was to lean sideways so he could see around me.
“Move out of the way,” I said in a louder voice as though hearing me had been the problem—which it hadn’t.
All he did was flick his tail at me.
I knew he was waiting for Mac and the pizza.
I kicked off my shoes and made my way around him. “Mac isn’t going to be here for probably half an hour,” I said.
He made a sound a lot like a sigh, but he didn’t move.
* * *
* * *
Mac arrived twenty-nine minutes later with the pizza and my favorite salad from The Black Bear. “I told Sam it was for you so there’s extra cucumber and those roasted pumpkin seeds you like.”
I clasped my hands together and grinned at him like I was a little kid. Elvis launched himself onto one of the stools at the counter, licked his whiskers and looked pointedly at Mac.
I shook my head. “You can’t have pizza,” I said. “It’s people food, not cat food.”
Elvis licked his whiskers again and kept his green eyes on Mac as though I wasn’t even in the room.
“It’s not good for him,” I said to Mac.
He nodded. “I know.” He fished something out of his pocket. “How about this instead?”
It was a can of sardines.
It got an enthusiastic meow from Elvis.
Mac went into the kitchen to open the can. Elvis jumped down to follow him. I took the stool the cat had just vacated.
“Are you trying to get my cat to like you with tiny, smelly fish?” I asked as Mac leaned down to put two sardines into Elvis’s dish.
“Of course not,” he said as he straightened up. “He already likes me. I’m trying to get his owner to like me with tiny, smelly fish.”
I leaned my elbows on the counter and grinned at him. “For future reference, chocolate works a lot better than little fish.”
A smile spread across Mac’s face as he moved closer to me. “Hence, my backup plan.” He reached into his other pocket and pulled out a small paper bag from Glenn’s shop.
“Chocolate chip?” I asked. I was pretty sure I could smell vanilla and chocolate, which meant the bag held at least one of Glenn’s chocolate chip cookies.
He handed me the bag. “Yes.”
I swept one hand through the air. “So basically you’re trying to buy my affections with all this?”
He nodded solemnly.
I reached across the counter, caught the front of his jacket and pulled him in for a kiss. “Lucky for you, that works,” I said.
We had our pizza and the chopped salad with extra cucumbers and roasted pumpkin seeds and then we curled up on the couch for another Star Trek movie. I tried to teach Mac how to do the Vulcan salutation, laughing so hard I gave myself hiccups because it was impossible for him to keep his ring and middle fingers apart. It felt good to be a little silly, to stop thinking—for a brief time—about how the world could sometimes be a very dark place.
* * *
* * *
I woke up in the morning before my alarm went off. I padded over to the window and looked outside. It was partly cloudy, but it didn’t look like imminent rain or snow. Elvis lifted his head and yawned. “I’m going running,” I said. “Are you coming?”
He yawned a second time and rolled over onto his back. I knew a no when I saw it.
I got dressed, found my favorite red beanie and fingerless gloves and laced up my shoes. It was cold outside, but there was no wind and I decided I could run my longer route. Running was when I did some of my best thinking and as my feet hit the pavement I went over the list of possible suspects in the cat show case. While Suzanne and Paul Lilley may have had a reason to disrupt the shows, I agreed with Mr. P. that there was something off about their disguises and behavior. I thought about Kimber Watson. Was she capable of vandalizing a sprinkler system? Could she have damaged the crates? Rose seemed to think the woman wouldn’t do anything to hurt a cat, but she did seem to have a very competitive streak. Then there was Jeffery Walker, who I hadn’t met yet, and whose cat, Nikita, was also in the running for the top spot. Christine had said that many of the other competitors saw him as an upstart because the white Persian had been so successful so quickly.
And what about Christine’s death? Did it have anything to do with what had been happening at the shows? As I turned for home, I knew I didn’t have any more answers than I’d had when I left.
Elvis and I had breakfast—cat food for him and scrambled eggs with spinach for me—and then we both got ready for work. Since getting ready for the cat just meant cleaning his fur, he was sitting by the door when I came out of the bedroom.
He meowed impatiently.
“Give me a minute,” I said. “I made a very good sandwich for lunch and I’m not leaving it behind.”
Elvis narrowed his green eyes at me.
“Chicken and peppers,” I said in answer to what I thought was his unspoken question
. “Play your cards right and I’ll give you a bite.”
“Chicken” was another word that was definitely in his vocabulary. He immediately cocked his head to one side.
“Cute won’t get you everything you want in life, you know,” I said.
“Mrrr,” he said. From his perspective it was working just fine.
* * *
* * *
Rose came out of her apartment just as I was locking my door. “Good morning,” she said. She was carrying her green and navy tote bag in one hand and a wooden hanger with two fleece blankets draped over it in the other.
“Good morning,” I said. “Let me take those blankets.”
She handed me the hanger. “Thank you. I would have put them in my bag, but I ran out of space.”
I recognized the purple blankets. We’d used them at the Searsport show. “I could have washed these, Rose,” I said.
“I know you could, sweetie,” she said, “but it’s not like I had to go down to the river and beat them on a rock. And I hung them on Charlotte’s clothesline to dry, so they smell nice and fresh.” She smiled at Elvis, who smiled back at her.
I looked down at him as I opened the front door. “Is there a cat anywhere in this state that is more spoiled than you?”
He wrinkled his nose at me and headed for the SUV.
I held the door for Rose. “Elvis is not spoiled,” she said as she passed me.
“Says the chief spoiler.”
“He’s not spoiled,” she repeated. Her chin came up a little in that defiant stance she used when she was about to argue something with me. “He’s cherished.”
“Cherished?”
“Yes. A transitive verb meaning to hold dear something or someone.” Rose poked me with her elbow. “Just like you are.”
I shook my head. “Why do I even try to win an argument with you?” I asked. I pointed my keys at the car and unlocked the doors.
Her guileless gray eyes studied my face. “I’ve been wondering that myself,” she said, then she opened the front-passenger door for Elvis. He hopped onto the seat and looked at me for a moment before he moved over so Rose could get in. I didn’t think it was my imagination that he looked more than a little smug.
* * *
* * *
I drove into the parking lot to find Liz’s car parked by the back door. As I pulled into my regular space, Avery came out and took a cardboard box from Liz’s backseat.
“Why isn’t Avery in school?” I said.
Rose reached for the tote bag at her feet. “Parent-teacher meetings.”
I made a face. “That’s right. I forgot. Mac has a project he wants her to work on.”
We got out of the SUV and headed across the lot. I had my messenger bag over one shoulder. I’d left the hanger with the blankets in the backseat since we’d be taking them over to the arena right after lunch. Rose was carrying her tote bag with one hand and Elvis with the other. I reached for the bag. “He can walk, you know,” I said.
“Well of course he can,” she said. “I don’t want him to get his feet dirty. The judges will notice something like that.”
“We should get Jess to make socks for him.” Jess was a very talented seamstress.
Rose stopped walking for a moment. “That’s an excellent idea,” she said. “Are you going to the jam tonight?”
“I was planning on it.”
She beamed at me. “Wonderful. You can ask her about socks and maybe some kind of cape with a hood, to keep Elvis’s fur clean as well.” She started for the door again. I had no idea if she was serious or pulling my leg, but knowing Jess, she’d be all in.
We found Avery, Liz and Mr. P. in the workroom. There was a pile of boxes next to the workbench.
“Good morning,” Mr. P. said, smiling at us.
“Good morning,” I said, smiling back at him. “What’s all this?” I flicked a finger at the boxes.
“It’s everything Debra will need for Socrates,” he said. “Avery found all the items on my list.” He turned his smile on the teen and she ducked her head even as she smiled herself.
“Thank you, Avery,” I said. “I know Debra will appreciate all your hard work.” I caught Mr. P.’s eye. “The litter box with the cover is up in my office.”
“Thank you, Sarah,” he said.
Avery looked at her grandmother. “Nonna helped, too,” she said. “She drove me to two places last night and another this morning.”
Rose smiled at her old friend. “That was so nice.”
I leaned sideways and kissed Liz’s cheek. “Yes, it was.”
She swatted me away with one hand. “So is that everything that was in the car?” she said to Avery.
The teenager nodded.
“Is there anything I should know before I go to that teachers’ meeting?” Liz asked. “You haven’t been planning to overthrow the faculty?” She was wearing a black suit with a cream-colored blouse and high-heeled black pumps that I wouldn’t have been able to stand up in let alone walk anywhere. I knew Liz well enough to know that the conservative and expensive suit had been chosen to let anyone she encountered at Avery’s very expensive school know that she was not someone to ignore.
Avery wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “No. My French teacher thinks I have a bad attitude, but I think he has a bad accent so that pretty much evens out.” Elvis was nosing around the boxes and she leaned down to pick him up. “Oh, and you might not be happy with my biology grade.” Elvis nuzzled her chin and she kissed the top of his head. “Or depending on what you were expecting, maybe you will be.”
“Good to know,” Liz said. “Anything else?”
Avery thought for a moment, her mouth twisting to one side. “Mr. Harrison, my gym teacher, said I run like a girl and I said well sure I do because I am a girl and then he made me run five more laps because he said I was insolent, which, by the way, I don’t think I was.”
“Also good to know,” Liz said. I saw a muscle tighten in her jaw. She nudged me with her shoulder. “Walk me out.”
“I’d love to,” I said.
“I’m going to put the kettle on,” Rose said.
“I’ll come with you,” Mr. P. said. He held out a hand and I gave him Rose’s bag. They started for the door into the shop.
“Mac made coffee,” Avery said. “He’s on the phone with those guys who own the bed-and-breakfast.”
The guys she was referring to were the owners of Herrier House, a bed-and-breakfast in Camden. They had discovered Second Chance by chance when the two of them had pulled off the highway to get coffee on the way to a funeral and had turned into loyal customers.
“So do you want me to get you a cup of coffee?” Avery asked. She pushed her hair out of her eyes. “I don’t mind.”
I nodded. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
“No problem,” she said, heading after Rose and Alfred and still carrying Elvis.
I linked my arms through Liz’s. “I asked you to walk me out, not help me out,” she said. “I’m not decrepit, you know.”
“I know,” I said, leaning my head against her shoulder for a moment. “This is a gesture of affection.”
She shook her head but didn’t say anything.
“So what’s up?” I asked once we were outside in the parking lot.
Liz pulled her arm free of mine and turned to face me. “Elspeth called me this morning. She said something had been bugging her ever since I’d asked her about Chloe Hartman. She had the feeling someone had mentioned the Hartmans so she asked around.”
“And?” I prompted.
“And it seems they aren’t particularly good at paying their bills on time.”
“And you don’t want to see the Angels get short-changed.”
Liz shook her head. “No, I do not. I also don’t want Rose to think I’m getting on my h
igh horse because I wasn’t a fan of taking on this case.”
“So you’re throwing me under the bus instead?” I crossed my arms over my midsection and narrowed my eyes at her.
“I prefer to think of it as I’m asking you to do a favor for me,” Liz said.
“Oh, a favor,” I said, drawing out the final word.
She moved toward me until there was about a finger’s width of space between us. “Ask your friends in the neighborhood about me,” she said in a low voice, quoting Vito Corleone from The Godfather, one of her favorite movies. “They’ll tell you I know how to return a favor.” Then she turned, walked around to the driver’s side of her car and climbed in.
I watched her drive away and felt a small twinge of sympathy for Avery’s gym teacher.
* * *
* * *
Avery was just coming down the stairs with my coffee when I stepped into the store. “Thank you,” I said, taking the mug from her.
She was also holding a red polar fleece jacket. “Mac wants me to bring all the chairs from the workshop inside,” she said. “Do you want me to do anything before I do that?”
I shook my head. “No, go ahead. And thank you again for helping Mr. P. get everything for Debra and Socrates.”
She smiled. “It was fun. I made a spreadsheet of what we needed to get and then I figured out the most efficient route. And Nonna said we had to drive all over kingdom come, but I know she didn’t really mind because she got up this morning to take me to get the special food the cat eats even though I was planning on walking.”
That was Liz. No matter how much she might bluster about the hours at Avery’s private school or the healthy smoothies she was always trying to get Liz to drink, Liz loved her granddaughter with the fierceness of a grizzly bear. Living with her grandmother had been very good for Avery. She was still defiant on occasion and she could be argumentative at times—the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, I liked to remind Liz—but she wasn’t hiding from the world anymore. She smiled, she laughed and sometimes she hugged people. She was confident. She was happy.
