When the Cat's Away

by Molly Fitz

  Crap. This guy might actually be able to help me. Without thinking, I reached into my back pocket and pulled out all the cash I had on me, a bit over two hundred bucks. "Where?"

  The kid looked surprised. He didn't realize that I'd pay a heck of a lot more to get Bubbles back.

  "She was asking about the temple. How far away it was and how much it cost to get in. I gave her directions," he said with a grin.

  "The Church of Latter-day Saints temple?" Why on earth would she go there? She didn't strike me as the overly religious type.

  "No, the Byodo-In Temple."

  Oh! I'd heard of that. It was a replica of a Buddhist temple in Japan to celebrate the Japanese heritage on the islands. It had looked so pretty in pictures that I'd really considered trying to shoot a video there. But using such a peaceful place for profit of any kind just seemed wrong.

  But it looked like I'd be making a stop there after all. "Thanks, Tom," I said as I practically ran out of the cultural center.

  I had a witch to catch.

  Chapter Eight

  The drive to the temple didn't take that long, but I was exhausted and grumpy and buzzing with excitement at the same time. My receipt plan had worked! It had seemed like such a good idea at first, but after all of my disappointing conversations during the day I'd lost a lot of hope.

  But the energy was different as I parked at the temple. It wasn't the peaceful calm, which I expected from the temple, but the adrenaline of knowing I was about to catch my prey.

  I paid the entrance fee with the small amount of cash I had in the Jeep, the only cash I hadn't thrown at Thomas, and then practically ran over the bridge that led to the temple.

  The pristine gardens, koi pond, and delicately curved arches in the architecture were beautiful. If I weren't in such a hurry, I would’ve been taking just as many pictures as all of the tourists around me.

  I might not be shooting a video here, but it would be a great Instagram shot.

  When I actually saw her, I had to blink a few times. Was I imagining it? Had the stress and exhaustion gotten to me?

  But no. There was Carolann sitting on a bench in the shade, her long hair blowing in the breeze while Bubbles slept deeply on her lap.

  She wouldn't be able to run this time. The parking lot was too far away. I thought of all the things I was going to scream at her once I was close enough, but when I finally stood over her, all of that anger disappeared.

  She was staring straight ahead, but her eyes were glazed over. Wherever her mind was, it wasn't here. It was someplace far away and not nearly as peaceful as this temple.

  "You had me scared," I said finally, the bite completely leaving my voice.

  She blinked a few times, as though just realizing she wasn't alone anymore. Turning to face me, she frowned. "You found me. How did you manage that?"

  "Through my utter lack of shame and sheer determination," I said as I sat next to her. Carefully, preparing myself for a fight any moment, I reached for Bubbles and pulled the kitten into my lap.

  The tired cat let out a little meow and bit at my wrist, but she was so tired I barely felt the sharp little teeth as she settled back into a kitten nap.

  Immediately the tension flowed out of me. I got her back. Layla wasn't going to kill me. I wasn't a reckless failure.

  Once again, I wanted to yell at the woman and give her a piece of my mind, but she looked as tired as I felt, and right now I just didn't think yelling would help any of us.

  "Some guy was looking for you. Quentin Summers."

  She nodded, not seeming surprised. "Did you tell him where I was?"

  Well I hadn't known where she was at the time. But even if I had... "I didn't give that man anything. He needed to be humbled a bit."

  Carolann chuckled. "You're a good friend."

  I raised a brow.

  "Not to me. To Layla."

  "I don't think she believes that right now," I said as I stroked Bubbles.

  "I can't go back. I can't bring my troubles to Ashland Springs. There are too many there I care about."

  “Then tell me what kind of trouble you’re in. I know people. I have resources. Let me help you.”

  “I stole something from them. Something to help Ma—a friend.”

  “Can’t we just give it back? I mean, Layla found who hurt your friend." If Carolann couldn't bring herself to say Mary's name, I wasn't going to either.

  She shook her head. "They can't have it. The necklace is too powerful."

  I let out a sigh. "The cursebreaker."

  Probably for the first time, I surprised Carolann. "Layla really does trust you, doesn't she?"

  "Probably not as much after I borrowed Bubbles here for this little excursion."

  "You bring Bubbles back to Layla. They need each other. More than she needs me."

  "That sounds like something Layla should decide for herself."

  "You are a determined one, aren't you?"

  "Well... yeah." That should be pretty obvious by now.

  She reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, scribbling something down before handing it to me.

  I took it quickly before she could change her mind. An email address. Not exactly a goldmine considering Adam already had it. But it was a sign that Carolann was at least willing to talk to Layla. Which was all I'd really wanted by coming here. Right?

  "I have to leave the island. They've gotten too close. And the more they're looking for me, the less they're focused on Layla. Do you see why it's so important to stay away?"

  "No," I lied. It actually made a lot of sense. Carolann in her blind determination to help her partner had stolen something from very powerful people. Now Mary was dead and these guys wanted their property back. Carolann was trying to keep them as far from her hometown as possible. I guess faking her own death was her attempt to prove to these guys that she was out of the picture. "Who are they anyway? If Layla is going to keep herself safe, we should know."

  "The Weyland Organization. I can't tell you any more than that. Now get on the next flight to the mainland. The sooner we're both off this island the better."

  Before I could ask her anything else, Carolann stood. "Good luck, Poppy," she said with a smile. You're gonna need it. The words were unspoken, but I heard them clearly.

  I stayed on the bench with Bubbles for a long while. Just petting the sleeping kitten and enjoying the peaceful surroundings. Mentally I made a checklist of what I was going to need to do. Go back to the hotel. Pack. Book another flight.

  Well I could do the flight part here. It was going to be tight, but if Carolann's warnings were to be believed, I needed a flight now.

  "Did she take good care of you?" I asked Bubbles in the high-pitched voice I reserved for kittens and babies. I'd have to give her a heaping serving of cat food just in case she hadn't eaten enough. I'd rather give Layla back a fat cat than a malnourished one.

  Our peaceful siesta could only last so long. "Okay, Bubbles," I finally said. "Time to get off this island."

  Chapter Nine

  I was going to sleep so good on this flight. Maybe someday I'd come back to the islands for a relaxing vacation. But this trip hadn't been for relaxation. I came to find Carolann and get her to talk to Layla.

  And I'd done that. I was just too tired to be happy about it. And too worried about The Weyland Organization to feel all that victorious.

  After I got back to the hotel, it didn't take long to pack up all my clothes and filming equipment. I'd barely unpacked after all. The place was so pretty it was a shame I couldn't stay longer.

  But I couldn't wait to get back to my cute little cottage and get into more trouble with Layla. Funny how attached I'd gotten to her in the short time since we met.

  Bubbles let out a yowl and rubbed against my ankle, as though reminding me that she was part of the reason I had bonded so fast with Layla.

  "I know," I said as I reached down to give her a little scratch on her head. She was not going to be
happy about this long flight, but she'd be home soon enough and in her momma's arms.

  Once everything was collected, I put Bubbles in her carrier, balancing the strap on my shoulder and taking a roller bag in each hand as I maneuvered out of the room.

  I was so distracted trying to squeeze out of the door without jostling Bubbles too much that I almost didn't see him. The guy at the end of the hall scrolling through his phone.

  Nothing too suspicious about that, but the hair on the back of my neck still stood up. I tried not to look at him as I dragged my luggage to the elevator.

  * * *

  Nothing to worry about. Nothing to fear.

  But when I got onto the elevator and pressed the down arrow, he was right next to me.

  I held my breath as the elevator started its descent. The elevator was going to open to the lobby which would be full of tourists and employees. He would have to be a fool to try anything.

  And that was assuming I wasn't being paranoid. At this point paranoia just seemed like the smart option. Carolann had run halfway around the world to get away from these guys. Now I was in an elevator with one?

  Maybe.

  The doors opened and I bolted as fast as I could with the luggage and Bubbles.

  I didn't stop at the front desk to check out. I didn't look behind me. Keeping my gaze straight ahead of me and never slowing my pace, I dragged my luggage to the parking garage and didn't stop to see if I was being followed until I'd hauled my bags into the back of the Jeep and set Bubbles gently in the front seat, all of which was made extra awkward by the fact that I was holding the sharp end of the key between my fingers like a weapon.

  My paranoia was immediately justified when I sat in the driver's seat and saw the man from the elevator was on the other side of the parking garage aisle staring at me. Now that I was in the Jeep, I felt like I could breathe. It was one guy on foot. It would be easy enough to drive off if he tried anything.

  And now that I wasn't afraid, my normal confidence started bubbling up.

  So instead of peeling out of the parking garage as fast as possible, I stepped cautiously on the gas and pulled right up to the stranger. He was dressed in a very non-touristy black suit and white shirt. Pretty darn similar to Quentin Summers.

  I came to a stop in front of him and rolled down my window about an inch. Just enough so I could hear him. "What do you want?"

  He had a good poker face. I couldn't tell if he was impressed with my confrontation or if he thought I was a moron. To be fair, I didn't know how I felt about it either.

  "We don't want anything."

  Well that seemed like a lie. "So we're good then?"

  He tilted his head and I realized that he was listening to something. There was an earbud in one ear that was speaking to him. Someone else was feeding him what to say.

  "Why did you come here?" asked the stranger.

  My first instinct was to tell him to shove off, but I restrained myself. I had nothing to hide. "I came to find my friend's missing relative. I found her. Now I'm going home."

  I half expected him to ask where Carolann was like Quinten had, but he didn't. He just backed off. "You watch yourself, Poppy Jones. We know we'll be watching you."

  I rolled my eyes. "Great. Listen, someone just tried to frame me for murder and nearly killed me a few weeks ago. If you think your knock-off Bond villain threats are enough to scare me, you obviously don't know who you're dealing with. Enjoy the show." There was no way I was topping that drop the mic moment, so I pressed on the gas and drove away before he could respond.

  So these creeps would be watching me?

  I couldn't help but smile at the thought. If there was one thing about my life since moving to Ashland Springs, it was never boring.

  "What do you think, Bubbles? Wanna get home to momma and tell her we found Carolann?" The kitten looked at me blankly. "Yeah, I don't think she's going to be happy with me even when I give her the email address. But she'll get over it. She'll have to. We have another mystery to solve!"

  Want More?

  We hope you enjoyed Hawaiian Kitten Curse! It's part of the “Kitty Curse” series, which will be coming soon from Whiskered Mysteries.

  * * *

  Follow Daisy Finch for more cute cats, addictive books, and drinking mass amounts of caffeine because both of those things kept us up too late!

  * * *

  You can connect with her at Facebook.com/AuthorDaisyFinch.

  Catastrophe on the Road

  by Rosie Pease

  About this Story

  CATASTROPHE ON THE ROAD

  * * *

  A silver tabby interferes with a bus trip’s unexpected pitstop in Maine

  As an aspiring travel blogger, I’ve learned group trips can be a fun, cheap way to see the sights. They’re not supposed to turn deadly.

  * * *

  But when a passenger dies on board the tour bus, the rest of us become suspects and our transportation becomes a crime scene. Although our forced detour to a cat café sounds like purrfect blog material, I find myself face to face with more trouble than I bargained for when a mischievous cat leads me into the middle of the investigation.

  Copyright © 2021 by Rosie Pease.

  * * *

  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Chapter One

  As I stepped onto the bus to go home, I thanked my good luck because, with a final press of the button on a penny slot, I won one of the machine’s top payouts. While I wasn’t a millionaire—not even close—the win had made an already fun trip even better. I must have had quite the smile on my face, for as I got to my seat, the man behind me gave me a big thumbs-up as he took a sip of his soda. My grin faltered momentarily as I returned the gesture, feeling awkward. I’d barely said two words to the man before this moment. But the smile soon returned. How could it not? I felt rich.

  Had it not been for the dead man a few hours later, I would have made it home with all that money in my pocket.

  That five hundred dollars was the most money I’d ever had at one time. I didn’t have that much going into the trip, or at any time before that really. But the overnight trip, organized by the local travel club for the Blueberry Bay region of Maine, cost little more than the one-night group rate for the casino hotel and bus fare. I lived for trips like this. They weren’t something I could have afforded to do on my own. Not on my baker’s assistant income. It wasn’t the worst-paying job, but I was on a tight budget and saved every spare penny for things I wanted to do. Renting my parents’ basement apartment helped too. Plus, it helped them pay their mortgage.

  It had been a seven-hour bus ride to get to Saltair Shores, Maine. Had it been a direct trip, it wouldn’t have taken that long, but Wisteria Falls, where I lived, had been the first of three regional pickup spots. Fortunately I had the two seats to myself, giving me plenty of space to spread out. I’d promptly fallen asleep after our four-a.m. departure. I woke up just in time for our stop to grab breakfast from a highway rest area. After that, I’d spent the time writing on my travel blog. My two loves were food and travel. Working and getting paid for one allowed me to enjoy the other.

  Overall, it had been a decent bus ride down. The only downside to the ride had been that one guy. Even though I didn’t know him, meaning he wasn’t from the small town I’d lived in my entire life, I knew the type. The kind of guy who chews loudly, snores louder, and when awake, does not stop talking.

  I’d put on my headphones and ignored the noise as much as I could, but they only worked so well when the noise was coming from the person sitting right behind me. That’s right, Mr. Thumbs-up. At the start of the trip, he was just a loud, annoying man.

  We’d arrived shortly before lunch. I’d been working a
nd hadn’t realized how close we were, so when we arrived in the parking lot of the hotel, I wasn’t prepared. Guess the headphones had been good enough to block the announcement of our impending arrival from the bus driver.

  As I packed my stuff, several passengers cast angry or annoyed glances at the loud man as he pushed his way out of his seat and into the aisle. So maybe my headphones had worked even better than I’d thought because I didn’t think the glares were necessary. Then again, that was probably why he got them. I’d only heard the loudest of everything he’d done.

  Once we checked into the hotel and struck out on our own in Saltair Shores, however, I forgot all about those looks and even about the man.

  I spent the next twenty-six hours living the good life—ate to my heart’s content and took a ton of photos for my blog. After schmoozing with the local baker, I got a behind-the-scenes tour of the bakery. I left the private tour and taste testing with a lot of ideas for new foods that I wanted to make. Hopefully I could convince my boss at Flour Power to let me try some of them at the bakery. With one of my degrees having been in baking and pastry arts, I was more than capable of making anything that I was suggesting. If he let me, perhaps he’d realize I was ready to be to become the assistant manager of the place.

  After my bakery tour, I visited one of the local museums, walked through the historic district, and stopped in at a spot along the regional beverage trail. Then it was time for dinner. Well, an appetizer, dinner, and a dessert—after all, I’d been saving. Following my delightful Italian meal, I headed back to our casino hotel to attend a free concert. The music wasn’t totally my style, but free fit my budget.