21
I lowered myself with upper body strength and hung from the windowsill. My fingers ached from the tight grip they had on the wood, but the alternative was Stephanie spotting the top of my head bobbing in and out of sight.
My biceps strained, heat rushing through them. It had been too long since I’d trained arms.
I held my breath, then let it out slowly.
“—window?” Stephanie’s voice drifted out to me.
“Must’ve been housekeeping,” Archie said.
“I haven’t had anyone in here,” Stephanie replied, waspishly. “I keep my room spotless, thank you.” The window snapped shut above me, missing my fingers by an inch, and I exhaled.
One problem gone. Now came the next.
I was two stories above ground, and boy, did that flowerbed look far away from up here. The green grass swam beneath me, and my breath hitched.
Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been higher than this. I turned my head this way and that, searching for a way out that wouldn’t involve a trip to the hospital. Fighting off assassins would be difficult with a fractured leg and a cast.
I was at the back of the inn, and the slanting tiled roof above the entrance to the kitten foster center was two windows over. If I could get there, I’d have a safer way down, at least.
But how?
There was no piping near to me, and the next window was a couple feet to my left, with nothing but an expanse of brick wall between it and me.
I brought my feet up and braced them against the wall, relieving some pressure in my fingers, then crab walked myself along the wall, until I was at the very corner of the windowsill.
Here we go.
I tensed my muscles and used my legs to power myself off the wall into a fantastic leap. I reached for the ledge opposite, my heart in my throat, and caught it. My fingers clamped tight, and I hit the wall, the impact jarring my elbow and shoulder.
Shoot, that’s going to hurt in the morning.
But it wasn’t over yet. I repeated the motion another time, scuttling along the wall like a crab, then launching myself off it and catching myself on the next windowsill. Finally, I was within jumping distance from the kitten foster center’s roof. I leaped and landed, tiles cracking and sliding from the roof and dropping into the garden below.
I lay down, my face in the sun, and took several deep breaths, my body aching from the physical effort.
“Around here!” A woman’s shout drifted from below.
“Are you sure about—?”
“Don’t question me, officer, I know what I’m talking about. You’ll see.” I’d recognize that voice if I’d been in a coma.
Belle-Blue.
I sat up and crab-walked my way down the roof until I reached the lip, then peeked over at the front of the kitten foster center, spotting the top of Jessie’s head—slight bald batch on the crown—and an officer next to her, wearing a beat cop’s uniform. They were directly below me.
“You’ll see. Just go in and look,” Jessie was saying. “She’s got all the stolen cats.”
Not this again. Shoot, where’s Gamma?
We couldn’t let Jessie charge in there and upset the kittens. They’d been through enough already.
I considered my options, rising from my crouch to a standing position. I could head for the side of the roof and scale it—I was only one story up, now—then circle around and stop Jessie from entering.
I took a step to do exactly that, but my foot found a stray roof tile. It slid out from underneath me, and I tumbled backward with a yelp. My back hit the roof, and I slid over the lip, dropping onto the pathway in front of the inn.
The impact sent pain through my entire body and my teeth jarred together.
“What in heck?!” Jessie shrieked.
I screwed up my eyes against the shout, then opened them and turned my head.
I’d landed directly in front of Belle-Blue and the officer.
“Ma’am, are you all right?” The officer, a handsome young man with kind green eyes, helped me up from the gravel.
“Yep, I’m good thanks. All good.” I pulled my arm free and dusted myself off. “I was, just, uh, checking out a leak. Lost my footing.” I wiped sweat and dust from my forehead.
“Liar!” Jessie growled. “You were spying on me. She’s in on it, Officer Doohickey. She’s a cat thief too!”
“It’s Officer Dolehick, ma’am,” the cop said, patiently.
“Whatever. Just get in there and—”
The foster center door opened and my grandmother emerged, her gray curls immaculate, her summery, flower-dotted dress accenting her grace. She strode over, took one look at me, lip-twitching, then turned to the officer. “Is there a problem, Officer Dolehick?” she asked. “I heard a commotion.”
“Your cat thief dropped off the roof,” Belle-Blue said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she was trying to murder me to get rid of the evidence.”
“There’s no need to make accusations, ma’am.” The officer put out a hand. “I’m sure we can resolve this issue amicably.”
“There’s no issue to resolve,” Gamma said. “Other than the screaming crazy woman you’ve brought to my doorstep. Belle-Blue, I thought I told you you’re not welcome at the inn.”
“I’m not falling for your lies anymore, Franklin!” Jessie fiddled with her checked pashmina. “You’ve got my cats and I want them back. I’ve filed a complaint against you, and this officer here is going to arrest you for the theft.”
Gamma let out a long-suffering sigh. “Officer Dolehick, do you have a warrant for my arrest?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Well, he’ll get one when he sees all the cats you’ve stolen.”
“I’m tired of this,” Gamma said. “Officer, you’re more than welcome to come in and look around. You’ll find that all the cats and kittens here are recorded and accounted for. And none of them are stolen. The sooner we clear this up, the better.”
The calmer Gamma stayed, the redder Jessie Belle-Blue became. “You hear that, Doohickey? Get in there!” She actually slapped the officer on the rear-end.
Dolehick gave her a bewildered look before taking the steps and entering the foster center. Gamma closed the door behind them, leaving Jessie and I out in the open. Together. Curse my bad luck.
“I know what you two are up to,” Jessie hissed, rounding on me. “You think you can oust me from this town? You’ve got another thing coming.”
“I wish I had an aspirin and a tall glass of water coming,” I replied, massaging my temples.
“This ends today!” Jessie proclaimed, raising a finger.
I groaned and tried to tune her out. There were more important things to worry about. Like the fact that we were at a dead-end in the investigation. And the recent addition to the inn’s staff in the form of Jordan.
Things were changing at the inn, and with only the case to focus on in between my cleaning duties, it was difficult not to obsess over that.
“Here they come.” Jessie clapped her hands, her deep blue eyes sparkling with malic. “Arrest her, Doohickey! Take her in.”
Officer Dolehick halted in front of us, Gamma beside him, her expression unreadable.
“What are you waiting for?”
“There are no stolen cats on the premises, ma’am,” Dolehick said, wincing in anticipation of Jessie’s reaction.
He wasn’t disappointed.
She went fifty shades of red, her mouth opening and closing.
“I’m afraid I must insist you leave my property immediately, Belle-Blue,” Gamma said, primly. “You’ve caused enough trouble as it is.”
Jessie let out a noise reminiscent of a boiling kettle on a stove, then launched herself at my grandmother.
Gamma’s posture shifted—from calm to dangerous—but before she could incapacitate Jessie, Officer Dolehick stepped in and caught the portly, pashmina-ensconced woman around the waist.
“Stop,” he commanded, but Jessie wouldn’t he
ar sense or anything at all.
She screeched and clawed, her fingers reaching for my grandmother, who stepped out of range, barely withholding a smile. “Officer, would you be so kind as to escort this madwoman off the premises?” Gamma asked.
Jessie’s feral shrieks increased in pitch.
Dolehick had gone pale. Instead of replying, he half-walked, half-dragged Jessie around the corner.
22
A few days later…
“Unfortunately, we don’t have chocolate cupcakes this evening,” I said, my tray tucked under my arm and a smile parting my lips. One that was forced. Mrs. Crindle had asked me for chocolate cupcakes every day this week, and Lauren hadn’t appreciated the message.
She was insistent that it was raspberry cupcakes and nothing else for the sweet treat for the next two weeks. The month of raspberry, she’d called it.
“Well, when will you have chocolate cupcakes?” Mrs. Crindle pursed her leathery lips and considered me over the rims of her glasses. “I’ve been waiting weeks.”
“Lauren, our chef, has said she’ll be serving the raspberry for the foreseeable future.” That was the official ‘party line.’
“But that’s ridiculous,” Mrs. Crindle said. “Surely, you can whip up a batch of chocolate cupcakes.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the kitchen doors. Lauren’s face had appeared in the porthole window of one of them, and she glared at Mrs. Crindle, who, thankfully, hadn’t noticed the extra attention yet.
I shifted so my back was to her. “Mrs. Crindle, I’d love to get you a chocolate cupcake, but our chef is resistant to making anything other than raspberry at the moment.” I paused. “She’s pregnant. Heavily pregnant.”
“Oh!” Mrs. Crindle’s eyes widened. “I see. Mood swings?”
“Pretty much,” I replied. “And trust me, the raspberry cupcakes are just as delicious as the chocolate.”
“All right, dear, well I don’t want to cause any trouble for you. I’ll have a raspberry then,” she said, with a conspiratorial wink.
“Thanks.” I went and fetched her one under the watchful eye of our chef and received a begrudging nod. I handed over the cupcake, then went about the rest of my work, trying to smile and focus.
Jordan was on his third shift this evening—a good thing, since it had helped Gamma to have someone there who wanted to take care of the cats—but I still didn’t fully trust him. There had been no news of where Kyle was, but I had to trust that the NSIB were on his tail. And Smulder? He kept on bringing up what would happen in the future with us.
I checked on the inn’s guest, bringing them their evening meals, pausing once in a while to look out the front window where the trees were illuminated by the cutesy lampposts trailing down the front path that led to the closed gates in the distance.
Fall was on the way, with the sun setting earlier each night. I so wasn’t ready for the cold, even if it was usually mild in Gossip.
A bang came from the other side of the inn, and several of the guests paused. Knives and forks clattered. People looked around, but nothing else happened, so the evening meal resumed.
Weird. What was—?
Mrs. Crindle screamed and dropped her raspberry cupcake. It plopped frosting-side-down onto her plate. Her horrified gaze was fixed on the archway that led into the front hall, and in it stood a pale, ghost-like figure with bloodshot eyes, wearing a hood, and holding a… wooden chair leg?
Silence descended on the dining room, and then the panic started. People shrieked. Men leaped to their feet. The kitchen doors swung open and Lauren emerged, patting a rolling pin against her palm and glaring at Mrs. Crindle of all people.
I grabbed a chair, clambered onto it, inserted two fingers between my lips and let out a sharp whistle.
The guests stopped and stared at me. Most of them, anyway.
“Everyone, calm down,” I shouted, putting out my hands. “Jordan, for the love of all that’s not paranormal, take off the hood.”
Jordan reached up and pulled down his hoodie, revealing his pale face and bright red hair. A few of the guests let out a follow-up shout. Now that Jordan had taken a shower, he was even paler than he’d been when Lauren had spotted him.
“Everyone, this is one of the assistants at the cat foster center. Please resume your seats and enjoy your meals.” I got down from the chair, checked that Lauren wasn’t about to accost Mrs. Crindle, then marched over to Jordan. “What’s going on?” I hissed. “You scared the life out of everyone.”
“Sorry,” he said, and rubbed his head furiously. “But we got a problem.”
“What do you mean? What kind of problem?”
“Some of the kittens were stolen from the center.”
“W-what?” I couldn’t keep my voice down. “What do you—? How?”
“Somebody walked up behind me,” Jordan said, still rubbing his head, “and knocked me out with this.” He lifted the chair leg. “When I woke up, they was gone.”
* * *
“I wish there was something more I could do, ma’am,” Officer Dolehick said, his notepad and pen out. “But they’ve taken Mr. Ames’ statement now, and they’ve done fingerprinting. When we know, you’ll know.”
“Well, you’d better know fast,” Gamma said, clutching a spoiled tissue in her fist. She’d burst into tears at the news, and I was struggling to hold my emotions at bay.
The catnapper had taken Sunlight.
I couldn’t speak without choking on the lump in my throat.
“I want those cats back, Dolehick, and if you don’t get them…” Gamma trailed off because she couldn’t threaten him outright.
“You must have a lead,” I said, and my voice warbled. Gosh, I had to get it together. The theft had already reduced Lauren to a weeping mess in the kitchen, and the guests were all aflutter with the news of the break-in.
“We’re looking into it,” Dolehick said, wriggling his nose from side-to-side. “As soon as you know, we’ll know.”
“You’ve already said that.” Gamma folded her arms. “You must have more information.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I don’t. We’ll be in touch when we know more.” He nodded at us, then hurried off, glancing over his shoulder to check we weren’t following him. Harrying him.
I took deep breaths to calm myself. It didn’t work very well.
“It’s OK, Charlotte,” Gamma said, stroking my back. “We have to keep it together for the kittens that are left.”
“I’m fine.” My heart turned in my chest. “Cocoa Puff!”
“He’s fine. Upstairs on your bed.”
I exhaled. “OK, that’s something at least.” I leaned in. “What are we going to do about this?” I asked. “We can’t—”
“We won’t.” Gamma lifted a hand. “I need to make sure Jordan is all right. Meet me upstairs in thirty-five minutes. Your room.”
23
“We won’t abide this,” Gamma said. “Don’t worry, Charlotte. We’re going to get Sunlight back.”
I couldn’t say I wasn’t worried this time. I held Cocoa Puff in my lap and stroked his furry ears, trying not to think of poor Sunlight in danger. “We will.”
“Good. We just have to figure out who might’ve done this,” Gamma said. “After that, we can find them and make them pay for what they’ve done.”
“The cats will be safe.” I shifted on my bed, pulling my feet up and adjusting Cocoa. “They have to be.”
Gamma nodded, but her lack of comment only amplified my fears. What if they weren’t safe? What if this was some sick ploy to…? I didn’t even want to think about it. They had to be safe. I would never let anything happen to Sunlight.
You mean, apart from her being catnapped.
“What if it was Jordan?” I asked.
“Charlotte.”
“I’m serious, Georgina. You hire him and a few days later this happens? What’s to say it wasn’t him working with some outsider?”
“I appreciate what you’re saying
, but I don’t think that’s the case.” Gamma positioned herself on the puffy stool in front of my dresser and fiddled with a tube of mascara, tapping it against her palm occasionally and frowning at her reflection in the mirror.
“Then what do you think?”
“That we have the evidence in front of us, we just have to add it up.”
“The evidence?” I asked. “What evidence?”
“Sorry, not evidence but clues, dear. Clues. Bridget, the business partner, mentioned that Mr. Shone hadn’t been acting strangely but had smelled strongly of cat urine,” Gamma said. “Remember?”
“Yeah.”
“That has to mean something. The fact that there’s cat urine and now missing cats… this might tie into what happened to Mr. Shone.”
“I can’t say that I care about the case at the moment. Only getting the cats back.”
“I agree. For now,” Gamma said. “But it’s a relevant point. The murderer, or someone close to Mr. Shone, might’ve been involved in the disappearances of local cats. And isn’t it interesting that Bridget arrived at the Gossip Cat Shelter on the day we were there? Why was she visiting? And who was chasing her? Supposedly.”
I nodded. “So, what? We go after Bridget?”
“Maybe not. There’s not enough pointing to her involvement.” Gamma grunted and quiet settled over us, interrupted by Cocoa Puff’s satisfied purrs.
“What about Belle-Blue?” I asked. “She’s been obsessing over the thefts for a while now, and I saw her meeting with a strange man at the petting zoo.”
“The petting zoo. See, that is strange. Belle-Blue isn’t the type to go to petting zoos. She’s very removed when it comes to all things cuddly. She only views cats as a means of getting money. She doesn’t truly care for them.”
“And this is your unbiased opinion?” I asked.
“What on earth are you implying?”
“Oh, come on, Georgina, you two are hardly friends.”
“Hmph. The fact that she was at the petting zoo is suspicious, as is her fraternization with this mystery guy you mentioned.”
Mission Inn-possible 04 - Raspberry Revenge Page 9
