When the Cat's Away

by Molly Fitz

  “I hope you don’t mind I gave him your number. He’s a bit of a lost soul. I thought maybe the two of you would hit it off.”

  I hadn’t heard from him since our night out, so he might have been reconsidering his offer of the baseball game. “We went to the ICA, and he introduced me to Bellamy’s friend’s exhibit. After this week, I’ll be an art expert.”

  “All you need to know about art is that it expresses emotions that words can’t do justice.” She smiled at someone who came into the gallery, and I had a feeling my time with her was about to end for the night. “It should make you ask questions and dig deeper. You might never find the answer you’re looking for, but you’ll learn so much more than you ever expected. Not many are willing to go on that journey. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  There was a message in there. I accepted an hors d'oeuvres from the tray and popped it into my mouth as I scanned the room. I’d come into the night still wondering if Henry might know something about the theft or if there was an overzealous art dealer looking to cut out the middleman, but I had to consider that Margaret had wanted to keep Bellamy’s paintings for herself.

  She moved through the crowded room with ease. She was all about the art, and even though she had no problems talking to anyone here, they weren’t her people. She was cooler than them, more cultured, and from the undertones of what Nicole and Henry had said, probably had more money than everyone here—especially if she was sitting on the goldmine of Bellamy’s work.

  Somehow I’d wound up in the corner, with multiple hors d’oeuvres napkins balled in my hand giving tight smiles to anyone who looked in my general direction.

  Awkward.

  I had to find Persephone.

  Even more awkward.

  I squeezed through the crowd, apologizing as I bumped into people.

  “Addie,” Henry called to me. He was standing with Nicole. Maybe it was the champagne, but she’d definitely changed her tune toward him when he was in front of her. He’d worn a suit tonight. His hair curled around his ears, and he pushed his glasses up his nose as he smiled at me.

  Nicole glared at me. Whatever.

  “Hi. I was hoping I’d see you here tonight.”

  “Likewise.”

  “I’ll leave the two of you alone.” Nicole turned on her heel.

  “She does not like me,” I said.

  “She doesn’t like any of us.” He laughed. “She sees this gallery as a nuisance and as a place she can cash in. When she doesn’t get what she wants, she projects it onto Margaret not being able to handle it.”

  Interesting. I wasn’t sure I could trust Henry yet, so I had to be careful with my words. He could be baiting me. As much as Margaret thought I had a place in this world, it was completely unfamiliar to me, and I was definitely the outsider. “Margaret can totally handle it.”

  He nodded. “She’s not a woman to be underestimated. She’ll have these art dealers eating out of her hand by the end of the night. The walls will be bare.”

  So much for thinking they were taking advantage of her. “How do you know which ones are the art dealers?”

  “They’re the ones of their phones, talking to the houses they work for, trying to figure out what they can offer. There will be bidding wars for a couple of these pieces.”

  “What kind of money will they go for?”

  He shrugged. “Six figures, probably. Maybe seven.”

  My mouth dropped. “Who can spend that kind of money on a painting?” My voice was too loud, and a few partygoers turned and gave me a look. The same one Nicole had shot in my direction.

  At the shelter, a shoestring budget felt like a luxury.

  “Not many. They’re investors, people looking to put their money in something other than the stock market.” His eyes scanned the room. “Most of the people are here looking for connections of other kinds. They don’t care about the art.”

  “That bothers you.”

  His shoulders tensed under his suit. “It does. Bournaise’s work has a message, and these people don’t care enough to actually look at the paintings long enough to see what he was trying to tell them. It’s a waste. I told Margaret this was the wrong place for her gallery, but this house has been in her family for generations, and it makes sense to her.”

  “I guess everyone here has their own agenda.” And time was slipping away from me. This could be my only chance to figure out who’d stolen the painting. I had a feeling they were in this room. If they could get into the gallery without alarming Margaret in the middle of the night, chances were they’d smiled at her and kissed her on the cheek tonight as everyone around them whispered about the scandal. “Is Sully here?”

  “Do you see anyone wearing a backward baseball cap and cargo shorts?”

  “No.” I laughed. “Excuse me.”

  I had to find Persephone.

  Chapter Nine

  The partygoers gave me funny looks as I crouched down and looked under the furniture. Whatever. I’d probably never see any of these people again.

  No sign of Persephone.

  Brooke and Casey waved at me from outside the window. I cringed, because I could tell they were up to something. Casey nudged Brooke, and they walked in the front door.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered between gritted teeth.

  “Have you figured it out yet?” Brooke asked. “We saw you talking to Henry.”

  I groaned and looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to me or the party-crashers. “He’s still on my list.”

  The ladies gave each other a knowing look. “Anyone else?”

  My heart pounded. “Look at the room. It’s packed, and those people on the phone are dealers. They could potentially spend over a million dollars on a piece tonight.”

  Brooke whistled. “This room is full of sugar daddies. If I play my cards right, I could kiss my student loan debt goodbye.”

  “It could be. If the two of you want to mingle…” And just like that, they’d successfully crashed the party. “Make sure you have your story straight about why you’re here. And whatever you do, don’t mention my name.”

  I needed to get away from the crowd for a minute and regroup. I breathed a sigh of relief when I reached the hallway, and only found a few servers assembling new trays of treats in the kitchen.

  And Persephone hanging out of one of the stools.

  “There you are.” I took the stool next to her and roughed her fur. “I’ve been looking for you all night.”

  One of the servers looked over her shoulder, like I could’ve been talking to her, but I shrugged her off and turned to the cat.

  “That crowd is too much.” Persephone’s muscles tensed under my touch. “If I stay in here, I can steal shrimp off the tray when no one’s looking.”

  My kind of cat.

  “How are they too much for you?”

  Another look from the server that I totally ignored.

  “All the scents are overwhelming. Perfume and cologne and bad food.”

  “Do any of them smell like the people who took the painting?”

  “Can’t tell. Too much going out there, and there’s shrimp in here.” Persephone had her priorities sorted.

  “What did the thieves smell like?” She’d told me before, but I wanted to make sure she said the same thing twice. Or else she could be leading me in the wrong direction.

  “Dead flowers.”

  Same thing. “Have you smelled it in the gallery before?”

  I could swear she wrinkled her nose. “All the time.”

  “Are they here now?”

  “Yes.”

  My heartbeat sped up. We were in the same room with a criminal. Margaret lived here. Nicole had been here every time I’d been here, but that didn’t mean that she was here all the time. I had a feeling she was only interested in her aunt when it served her. And Henry had admitted to being here all the time and to having the door code.

  He didn’t smell like flowers. He smelled like mint a
nd vanilla, and I could not get distracted thinking about how good Henry smelled.

  And he didn’t have a car. Persephone had said she’d lost the thieves when they got into a car. I peeked down the hallway to make sure the servers were busy with full trays, and then opened the back door. A light flashed, but there was no audible alarm.

  No one came running, so I poked my head out the door. The alleyway was narrow, and a black luxury SUV was parked at the very end of it. Otherwise, there were only the backdoors of the other buildings that shared the alley.

  The SUV could’ve belonged to Margaret. It was as sleek and classy as she was.

  Or someone was planning another heist right under all our noses.

  I grabbed a shrimp off the tray and gave it to Persephone.

  “Thank you.” She purred in appreciation.

  “Anytime.” I patted her again as she worked on her treat. This cat didn’t have trust issues. “What does Margaret smell like?”

  “Treats.” Persephone licked her lips after finishing the last of the shrimp. “You do too. That was how I knew you were going to take care of me. Anyone who smells like that is a good person.”

  “The treats that were in the box” –which was actually catnip—“Are those your favorites?”

  Her eyes brightened. “They were. I was so hungry I was ready to start hunting mice. I’m old now, and they’re faster than me. But when I found the treat, I’m a little ashamed to admit I would’ve eaten anything at that point. When I woke up, I was stuck inside the box until you freed me.”

  They lured her with something they knew she couldn’t refuse. “What did you smell when you woke up?”

  “Chemicals. Dead stuff. I picked up some dreadful things on my paws wondering around the city.”

  “Any more flowers?”

  “Maybe.”

  I stroked Persephone’s back as I thought about it. I was pretty sure I had my culprit. Now I just had to figure out how to tell Margaret I’d figured it out. And make her not turn on me in the process.

  “Can you handle it by yourself? I’ll start the car.” A voice in the hallway startled me.

  Persephone rose, body stiff. “That’s the smell. The person who took the painting is coming.”

  Chapter Ten

  Nicole’s face fell when she saw me. But the shock didn’t last. She pushed her shoulders back and gave me her familiar scowl. “What are you doing back here?”

  “Taking a minute away from the crowd.” I looked past her, to the older man she’d left me to talk to earlier tonight. He huffed, his arms full with a sculpture that had to weigh a ton. “Didn’t think you were supposed to touch the art exhibits, much less bring them out the back door.”

  “I’ll have you know this man bought this piece.” She stepped toward me. It took everything I had not to back up. I knew very little about art exhibits, but after watching the docents descend on Casey for touching the block of straight pins at the ICA, I was pretty sure this was not the way a priceless work of art should be handled. “Now, if you’ll get out of our way, he’ll be able to put it into his car and we’ll be able to enjoy the rest of our evening.”

  Something wasn’t right about this. “Shouldn’t he go out the front door?”

  Nicole mashed her lips together, nostrils flaring. “He’s parked back here.”

  “There’s no one parked back here, Nicole.” It was my turn to take a step toward her. I’d caught her off guard enough that she backed up. “Is this what you did the night you stole the painting?”

  “You think I stole the painting?” She laughed. “Oh, that’s rich. The country bumpkin who’s covered in cat hair thinks I’d steal a priceless painting from my own aunt. Go back to New Hampshire, Addie. Leave the investigation to the professionals. You’re making a fool out of yourself.”

  “I know you stole the painting.”

  A waitress entered the room and backed down the hallway when she saw the scene playing out.

  “Get Margaret,” I said before she got too far away. “Bring her back here.”

  “Wh-Who’s Margaret?” she asked.

  “The person who hired you.”

  Nicole laughed. “I hired the help. I wouldn’t trouble my aunt with such a menial task. She’s seventy years old. She doesn’t have to work for a living anymore.”

  I tensed at the way she said work, like it was beneath her. It wasn’t bad enough that she’d stolen from her own family, but she didn’t need this painting, or the money that its sale on the black market could generate.

  “Get the really well put-together lady with straight gray hair, wearing a green patterned dress and black boots.” Margaret would stand out in any crowd.

  “You really think my aunt is going to take the word of someone she just met over her own family? You’re probably the one who stole her cat, looking to cash in on an art theft.”

  I bristled. Now I knew where Henry got that theory from. “She’ll be really disappointed in you.”

  “I don’t care what she thinks, Addie. I’m an adult. Maybe you should try acting like one.”

  “Stop underestimating her.”

  Another nostril flare. Nicole did not like being called out. “Who told you I did that? Your new boyfriend, the art lover?”

  “He didn’t have to.”

  “Maybe you’re in on this with him.” Nicole scoffed. “You helped him haul the painting out of here in the middle of the night. Never saw you before the painting was missing.”

  “What on earth is going on here?” Margaret scanned the kitchen, and her gaze landed on the man with the sculpture. “Why do you have that in the kitchen?”

  “Because he was about to haul it out the back door,” I said.

  Margaret gasped.

  “She’s delusional, Aunt Margaret.” Nicole put her hand on the older woman’s shoulder. “Martin noticed a chip in the sculpture, and I know that Henry keeps some of his sculpting supplies back here.”

  “That’s not what you told me.” My heart was racing. “They said he bought the sculpture, and they were bringing it to his car out here.”

  Margaret furrowed her brow. “No one’s purchased anything yet—”

  “That’s not true.” Nicole’s tone had totally changed since her aunt entered the room. “I’ve conducted a few purchases tonight.”

  “None of the pieces for sale have prices on them. I’m the only one who knows what they’re worth.”

  “I’ve gotten you more than a fair price.” Nicole smirked.

  “Have all your sales gone out the back door?”

  “Nicole, what is going on?”

  “Can I put this thing down now?” Martin asked. Someone who’d spent more than a house worth of money on a sculpture definitely wouldn’t call it a thing. He didn’t wait for permission and put the piece on the table with a thud that made me wince. I expected shards of plaster to rain down, but priceless art was sturdier than I thought it would be.

  “She’s the only one who could’ve taken the painting,” I said. “She was able to slip into the gallery undetected. The door flashes when it’s opened, but it doesn’t make any noise.”

  “I’m not the only one with the code,” she protested. “And you know that, too.”

  “I just looked out the door to see what could’ve happened the night of the theft.” I probably did look pretty guilty. “Henry has the code, but he doesn’t have a car.”

  “He could’ve rented one. Or had an accomplice.”

  “But then how did Persephone wind up in New Hampshire?” I paced in the tiny room. “Would he have laid a trap for her with catnip in a damp alley, taped it up tight, and dumped her outside a shelter?”

  Nicole gasped. “How dare you suggest I could do such a thing!”

  “I commend you for choosing a no-kill shelter. You must’ve done your research.” I grinned at her. “You didn’t really want to hurt the cat, you just wanted to make your aunt feel bad enough that she closed the gallery.”

  Nicole’s lips p
arted. “How did you know it was my aunt’s cat? She wasn’t wearing any tags.”

  She just admitted it. Adrenaline flooded my body, and I was practically seeing stars. “Persephone told me.”

  She laughed. “The cat told you.”

  I nodded. “She told me the thief was on the way down the hall before you walked in. She says you smell like dead flowers.”

  “That perfume is awful, Nicole,” Margaret added.

  “I’ll have you know it’s very expensive perfume. Not that you would know that.” She raked her gaze over me. “In your hand-me-down outfit.”

  “Borrowed,” I corrected. Lucky deserved more respect, because the dress was living up to its name. “How much does your dead flower perfume go for? About as much as a Bournaise?”

  “Enough! Both of you.” Margaret waved her arms and turned to her niece. “Why would you do such a thing?”

  “You’re…really believing her? She thinks a cat can talk to her. She’s here covering up for Henry.”

  “Henry was the one who alerted me the sculpture was missing. I was on my way back here when the waitress let me know there was trouble.”

  “Auntie, I didn’t do it.”

  “Why were you headed out the back door with a man who’s not your husband with a sculpture you didn’t pay for?”

  Nicole’s mouth dropped. “I told you he was going to fix it. He was trying to help you, like I am.” She glared at me.

  Martin had his hand on the door. I’d been so focused on Nicole I hadn’t seen him move across the kitchen.

  “Looks like he’s trying to leave before the police get here,” I said.

  Nicole groaned. “There’s no need for the police to come. They’ve completed their investigation.”

  “I thought maybe I should move the car,” he muttered.

  “Why was it in the alley in the first place?”

  He grunted and walked out the door.

  “If he altered the sculpture, he’d render the piece worthless.” Margaret shook her head. “Then what would happen when someone tried to buy it, Nicole? It would be considered a fraud and I’d be a laughingstock. So either you were trying to leave without paying for the sculpture, or ruin it. And if Addie hadn’t been back here to stop you, you would’ve told me it was my fault. That the gallery is too much for me.”