Claws for Alarm

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Claws for Alarm Page 2

by Cate Conte


  “Just spending time with the cats,” Grandpa said defensively. “Is that not allowed?”

  “Maddie, I have to go.” Mish poked her head around the door. She looked distracted at best. “Is that okay? I’m sorry.”

  Adele was about to protest, but I shot her a look. “It’s fine, Mish. Harry’s here. And everyone else, apparently. We’re in good shape.”

  “Thanks.” She left through the café entrance, the door slamming behind her.

  I wondered again what was up with her, but the doorbell to the main house rang abruptly, followed by a banging on the door. Then it crashed open, and my friend Damian Shaw’s excited voice rang through the house.

  “Maddie! Leo! Are you guys here?”

  I opened the French doors and frowned at him. “What’s up?”

  Damian’s eyes were wide and shining and he motioned manically. “Come with me. You have got to see this.”

  Chapter 3

  Grandpa and Val followed me into the living room.

  “What’s going on?” I asked Damian, just as he was getting ready to shout again. Damian owned the Lobstah Shack down the street, right next to the ferry. He’d bought it just under two years ago, and no one thought a guy from the Midwest would ever be able to make a go of life on a northeastern island. But he’d proven them wrong—his business was doing awesome.

  Damian shook his head impatiently. “Can’t explain. You’ve just gotta come with me. Come on.” He grabbed my arm. “What are you waiting for?” he asked, looking back at Grandpa.

  “I’m invited?” Grandpa asked, amused.

  Adele came in with JJ tucked under her arm. “What’s all the ruckus?” she asked, looking annoyed.

  “We’re going out for a few minutes. You too,” Damian said to Adele. “Let’s go.” He dragged me toward the door.

  “Damian, I really don’t have time—” I started.

  “It won’t take long. Promise.”

  Adele looked at me and shrugged. “Whaddaya say, boss? Can I get a break?” she asked with a smirk.

  “Just go,” I muttered, pushing her ahead of me and grabbing JJ’s leash off the hook next to the door. He squeaked excitedly—he loved going out—and waited for me to put it on.

  Grandpa, Val, Damian, Adele, JJ, and I piled into Damian’s Honda Pilot, the only vehicle with enough room for all of us, and headed toward town. We were lucky—Grandpa’s house was in a prime spot, right down the street from the ferry dock in Daybreak Harbor, the largest of the island’s five towns. The house had been in our family for generations, which was why I had to step in last summer when he was being pressured to sell it after Grandma died. I had grown up in that house. There was no way I was going to see it torn down and replaced with a transportation center. We’d kept it, and now I’d come full circle to live there again with him.

  But instead of going all the way downtown, I was surprised when Damian made a sharp left past the ferry dock and down the winding road that broke off into a fork. Stay right and we’d head into the downtown area. Left kept us on the coastal road. A minute later, we pulled into the Daybreak Island Marina parking lot.

  I immediately saw what he was so excited about. You couldn’t miss it. One of the largest boats I’d ever seen was parked at the dock. The word boat didn’t actually apply. It was more like yacht. Or cruise ship.

  Growing up where we did, my sisters and I were no strangers to ocean life and the people who lived it. They had beautiful boats and spent much of their time on the water, they took sailing trips around the world or competed in regattas, or ran businesses involving cruises or charters. In the summers our parents took us to Newport, Rhode Island, where the really fancy boats and people congregated. I used to walk around the marina and try to guess who would own a boat three times as big as Grandpa’s house, which was pretty darn big.

  And only once or twice had I seen a boat like this. The sleek, black yacht parked at the dock had to be five stories tall and spanned as long as the entire marina and dock combined. The back of the boat had an outdoor kitchen on the third level that rivaled my mother’s remodeled indoor one, her pet project from a couple years ago and her pride and joy. We all piled out of the SUV and stared at it.

  “Wow,” Grandpa said. The king of understatement.

  “Whose boat is that?” Val asked Damian, her eyes wide. “That’s amazing.”

  Adele sniffed, crossing her arms over her chest. I knew what she was thinking—more “fancy” people who swarmed to our island every summer. She called them “elites” and held mostly contempt for their fake tans and excess amounts of money. In addition to working at the café, Adele’s recent slate of jobs included taxi driver. If it were up to her, she’d never drive a tourist anywhere—her services would be saved for the locals. The rest of us were happy to take whatever money the tourists wanted to leave us, because it would make our winter months easier. When only residents were on the island, it was hard to run a business.

  “This is what ya dragged us out here for?” she scoffed now. “To gawk at some rich person? I got work to do.” But despite her tone, I could see her sneaking looks at the boat when she thought we weren’t watching her.

  Damian could barely contain his excitement. “Of course. This is the biggest boat that’s ever docked here. I asked the marina guys.” He pointed vaguely in the direction of the office. “Who do you think it belongs to?” he asked me.

  I laughed. “Why do you think I would know?”

  He shrugged. “You know everything.”

  “I appreciate the sentiment, but I think you’re exaggerating.” I walked toward the dock, hoping for a close-up and maybe a glimpse of whomever owned this thing. “It’s probably a CEO of some financial company. You know, a banker. Or a tech company,” I said over my shoulder.

  Val fell into step next to me. “You think? Not some famous person?”

  “No way,” Damian said, pulling up on the other side of me. “It’s gotta be someone cool. Not some stuffy CEO.”

  “I’m just guessing like the rest of you, but I think boats like these are typical for the businessmen types. It’s either boats or private planes.” I went to step onto the dock, something I’d done hundreds of times over the years, but a piercing shout stopped my foot in midair.

  “Hey! You can’t go on this dock.”

  Val and I both turned to see some guy standing at the door of the yacht club, glaring at us. He wore cargo shorts with lots of pockets, a ripped T-shirt of Def Leppard’s Hysteria album cover art, and a bandanna over what I guessed was thinning hair. Sunglasses covered his eyes, but from the downturn of his mouth, he wasn’t happy.

  He took a few steps closer. “I said, you can’t be on this dock,” he repeated, louder.

  Never one to back down from a fight, I gave him my own steely gaze. “Why not? It’s a public dock.”

  “Yeah, well, this boat is private property. Meaning the owner doesn’t want people anywhere near it. Capeesh?”

  I resisted an eye roll. Apparently our rich visitor had a bodyguard. A clichéd Italian one, at that.

  “Who’s the owner?” Damian asked eagerly.

  The guy gave him a look.

  Damian shrugged. “Had to ask.”

  “Get going,” the Sopranos wannabe suggested.

  I sent him an exaggerated salute and turned away. Val tried not to giggle. He watched to make sure we all went back to the SUV and even then, lingered on the dock in front of the boat. Guess he didn’t want us to try to come back.

  “What’d he say?” Adele asked, louder than necessary. She hadn’t ventured forward with us, not wanting to look interested, but she was always looking for a fight.

  “Nothing. Come on,” I said, putting my arm around her shoulder and turning her back to the truck.

  “What was that about?” Grandpa asked. He hadn’t even bothered to get out of the passenger seat where he was doing something on this phone. Probably trying to get the story about the yacht from his police contacts. JJ wasn’t impr
essed either. He sat on Grandpa’s lap, more interested in watching the water than seeing the boat.

  “Some uptight lackey protecting his paycheck. I have things to do anyway. Let’s go home.” It wasn’t like we didn’t have our fair share of rich and famous people who came to the island in the summer. We didn’t need to know who this one was.

  “You’re not as impressed as I am,” Damian said, a little pouty. I took pity on him. Guys from Ohio probably didn’t see a lot of fancy yachts.

  “I’m not,” I admitted. “I mean, it’s cool to look at, but I don’t need the ’tude.”

  “True. Let’s go. I’ll take you home. Thanks for humoring me.”

  I climbed back into the third row of seats, leaving the middle for Adele and Val. As we drove back toward our house, my mind started to wander. I needed to put some makeup on, do one last sweep of the cat area to make sure everything was in place, and probably a bunch of other things I was forgetting right now. I was jolted out of my thoughts as Damian slammed on the brakes right before we got to our driveway. “What do you suppose is going on there?” he asked, pointing ahead.

  I stuck my head out the window. There were two cars blocking the street, stopped on either side. I recognized one of them as Mish’s Lexus. And she was engaged in some kind of shouting match with the driver of the other car—a BMW X5 with rental plates.

  “No idea,” I said. “But that’s Mish. I thought she left a while ago?”

  “She did,” Adele said, sitting forward in her seat. “But looks like she didn’t get far. Who the heck is she yelling at?”

  Damian leaned on the horn. Mish didn’t even glance at us. Still focused on whoever was in the other car, she leaned out of her driver’s-side window and flipped Damian off without even looking at him. Then she said something else to the other driver, gunned the car, and took off down the street.

  “Wow,” Damian said. “She seems mad.”

  Grandpa shook his head. “People can’t control their tempers.”

  “Probably a road-rage incident,” I said. “Mish has the same, er, driving habits as me.” Which meant aggressive and with little patience.

  “That’s why it’s good I’m your grandfather,” Grandpa said dryly. “I can fix all your tickets.”

  Damian waited for the other car to move, since it was on our side of the road. Finally it did, with a squeal of its fancy tires. But instead of taking off down the street, the car pulled a U-turn (referred to as “bangin’ a u-ey” in Bostonian) and parked haphazardly on the curb in front of our house.

  I frowned. Why was the person Mish yelling at coming to our house? To register a complaint or something? Was it about the café? I hoped not. That was the last thing I needed.

  Damian pulled into the driveway. I willed everyone to hurry up—I had to wait for Val and Adele to get out before I could fold over the seat and climb out of the back. Damian glanced back at me. “Who is that?”

  “I have no idea,” I said.

  Val climbed out and moved her seat for me. I hopped out of the car as the BMW’s driver’s-side door opened.

  A woman stepped out and beamed at us. She wore a red tank jumpsuit with five-inch snake-print stilettos—Jimmy Choo, by the looks of them—and her strawberry blond hair looked like it had been blown dry at a salon just prior to her arrival. It hung in long, relaxed waves over her shoulders. Silver earrings peeked out from behind it, catching the sun and sending off glints of light. I immediately recognized her from the photos I’d seen online and from her Instagram account.

  She continued to smile at us, sparkling white teeth shining out of an oversized mouth that somehow still worked with the rest of her features. “Hi there. I’m looking for Maddie James,” she said, walking over. “I’m Jillian Allen.”

  Chapter 4

  Crap, was my first thought as Val, Adele, and Grandpa all turned to look at me. It was only 2:35! She was almost a half hour early. I hadn’t even put my makeup on yet. But I had to make the best of it.

  My second thought was, Why was one of my volunteers shouting at our guest? It was not the best way to make an impression. I’d have to talk to Mish. She probably had no idea who she’d been yelling at. Residents got cranky with tourists all the time, especially on the roads.

  And my final thought was, I love her outfit! I stepped forward and pasted a huge smile on my face. “Jillian! Welcome. I’m Maddie James. This is my grandfather, Leo.” I raised my eyebrows at Grandpa, who jumped into action.

  “Ms. Allen. Leo Mancini. A pleasure,” he said, offering his hand.

  “Grandpa Leo is one of the co-owners of the café,” I added. “You’ll meet my other business partner, Ethan Birdsong, later.”

  Jillian enthusiastically clasped his hand between hers and shook it hard. “I am honored. Truly. This is an incredible place you have here. With an amazing mission.”

  “Thank you,” Grandpa said modestly. “We enjoy doing it. And it’s all Maddie’s doing. And this is my other granddaughter Val, and our shelter manager, Adele.”

  “Lovely to meet you all,” Jillian said. Her smile was so wide I was afraid her face was going to crack. “And Jo will be just as delighted if she ever gets off the phone. Jo!” she shouted at the car.

  I turned to see the passenger door open and a tiny Asian woman stepped out. In contrast to Jillian, she wore simple leggings and a tunic, and flat sandals. Giant sunglasses covered her eyes, and her bangs brushed the top of the glasses.

  “Hi,” she said, unsmiling. “I’m Jo.”

  “Jo Sabatini. My second-in-command,” Jillian broke in, coming over to clasp Jo’s arm. “She couldn’t wait to see the place either.”

  “Well. We’re delighted you’re here,” Val said.

  “Delighted,” Adele echoed, although she sounded anything but.

  Jillian smiled at her, then her gaze fell on JJ, still in Adele’s arms, and she gasped. “And—oh, my goodness—is that JJ?” She stepped forward, smooshing his face between her hands. He let out an unhappy squeak. “I’ve been dying to meet this little orange face! My day is truly made.” She gave him a kiss on the top of his head.

  Adele took a step away, moving JJ just out of reach. I poked her in the side.

  “Well, let’s get you inside. Right this way,” Grandpa said heartily, bounding up the porch stairs with his keys in his hand.

  Adele muttered something under her breath.

  “If you don’t have anything nice to say,” I said in a low voice, then marched past her, turning to look behind me. Damian still hovered half in and half out of the driveway, blocking traffic, intent on what was going on. I frowned at him and inclined my head in a Go! signal. He gave me another pouty face, then backed out of the driveway and sped up the street. I hurried up the stairs after Grandpa and Jillian, Val and Adele on my heels.

  “Thank you for this tour,” Jillian was exclaiming to Grandpa, also trying to look over her shoulder at me and not fall in her giant heels. “I’m a bit early, I confess, but I was so excited to get here I just couldn’t help it. If you need a few minutes…”

  Grandpa pushed the door open and held it for us.

  “No, sorry, we had to run a quick errand,” I said. “It’s all good. Right this way.” Without thinking, we’d let them in on the residence side of the house, which would prevent them from getting the full experience of walking into the café through the shop. Too late now. “Have a seat,” I said, motioning toward the couch. “I’ll be right with you.”

  Grandpa took that as his cue and sat down next to Jillian, engaging her in some kind of conversation about the weather and the island. Jo sat on the chair across from them and pulled out her phone. I hurried upstairs, checking my face in the bathroom mirror. I dabbed on some under-eye concealer and freshened up my eyeliner. It would have to do.

  I turned to leave the bathroom and almost bumped into Val. “Why was Mish yelling at her?” she asked in a low voice.

  “I have no idea. Maybe it was a traffic thing, like Grandpa said. I just
hope she didn’t connect the dots that Mish works here. Are you coming back down?”

  “Yeah, in one second. I want to change. Adele is checking to make sure there’s no mess in the café,” she added.

  I smiled. “Of course she is. See you downstairs.”

  “I’m going to go help Ethan in the café. He’s got a lot going on out there. You’re gonna be impressed.”

  “I always am.” I took the steps two at a time, skidding to a stop at the bottom. Grandpa and Jillian were laughing together on the couch. Grandpa really had a knack with people. It was why he’d been so good at his job. Aside from being a great detective, he also really could relate to other humans.

  “Sorry about that,” I said, joining them in the living area. “Are you ready to see the café?”

  She clapped her hands. She certainly seemed exuberant about everything. “Ready? I can’t wait! Right, Jo?”

  “Coming,” Jo said, standing.

  Jillian jumped to her feet. “Are you coming, Leo?”

  Her flirty tone made me glance at Grandpa, who reddened. “Right behind you,” he said.

  I led her down the hallway to the French doors separating the cat area from our living space. As I paused to open the door, I felt her breath on my neck, she was so close to me. She wasn’t kidding about being excited about the cat café.

  “So, I saw you were having … words with someone outside. Did something happen?” I asked casually as I pushed the door open. I was a second late to glance over my shoulder, so I missed her expression.

  “Ah, you saw the conversation I was having when you pulled up.” Jillian smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry about that. I hadn’t expected to see Mish here. I’m afraid she isn’t all that fond of me right now.”

  My mouth dropped. I’d expected her to say, I accidentally cut that woman off when I was trying to find the house and she got upset, or something along those lines. I hadn’t expected her to know Mish.

  “Wait. How do you know—” I began, but she squealed with excitement and pushed past me into the café.

 

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