Trouble's Wedding Caper: Book 8 of Cat Detective Familiar Legacy mystery series

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Trouble's Wedding Caper: Book 8 of Cat Detective Familiar Legacy mystery series Page 6

by Jen Talty


  Or tossed it in the garbage as to not be reminded of him ever again.

  Palmetto nodded. “Antique cuff links and a broach. According to Holly, the broach was a gift from Danny’s mother and the cuff links she was holding hostage until he paid her back the money she lost on the deposit of the reception hall.” Palmetto raked a hand across the top of his buzzed head. “I know you were first on the scene, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d like the Sheriff’s Office to take lead on this case and send a man over to question Danny. We have some other concerns with him regarding an organized crime ring we’re working on.”

  Ethan nodded in agreement. “You’ve got more resources than we do. Just let me know what the Jupiter Police Department can do to help.” There had been a time when Ethan would have balked over jurisdiction but considering how Palmetto was willing to bring the receipt into evidence based on a cat’s reaction, it seemed like the right thing to do.

  “Do you mind interviewing all the witnesses here?” Palmetto asked.

  “Not at all,” Ethan said, glancing over at Annabel, Trouble now in her arms.

  “Guess you can start with the pretty lady and her cat.” Palmetto laughed. “I’m really interested in what the cat has to say.”

  “Trouble already gave his statement when he showed me that receipt.”

  Chapter Four

  I’m glad Annabel brought me to the office with her. She’s probably safe enough, but with a break-in happening almost outside her door, I feel it my duty to keep a close eye on her. A lot has been going on today, actually. The argument between the man in the dark sedan at the storage facility probably has nothing to do with anything, but still…

  It didn’t go unnoticed by me that one of Annabel’s neighbors wore the same kind of hat as the man giving the young boy a hard time at the storage facility. Being a few stories below the sixth floor, it was difficult to assess the similarities and/or differences in size between Annabel’s neighbor, Vernon, and the irate customer, but it is possible they are the same man. And here he is, lounging about on the landing when the neighbor just below him has had her condo burgled. I don’t believe in coincidences.

  I will have to keep my eye on Vernon, and I will have to sneak out and do some checking on why he’d want to break into a neighbor’s home.

  It doesn’t make sense.

  But crime often doesn’t happen in neat little packages, otherwise anyone could be a detective and trust me, it takes a special kind of tenacity and talent that only a select few possess.

  And most don’t have anywhere near the skill level that I have.

  I stand next to my human’s chair, blinking up at her as she sets up the cat bed under the desk in a quaint office space on the first floor of the Groves Building in Wind Harbor. I rather enjoy the pictures of the million-dollar listings lining the walls of the realtor’s workspace. It would be grand, after a good nap, to wake up to the lovely greens and blues of the ocean depicted in those images.

  If I can’t have the warm sunshine on my back when I curl up on the windowsill in Annabel’s condo, then this is about as good a second option as one could ask for.

  “I think you’ll be comfortable there,” she says.

  Annabel has gone barmy.

  Being under a wood box with someone’s feet, no matter how pretty her latest pedicure shows off her bronzed skin, is no place for a posh feline such as myself.

  For a smart woman, Annabel has yet to understand that a cat of my caliber does not rest under anyone’s desk.

  Without making a grandstand of it, I eloquently leap to the top of her desk and lounge on the corner, letting my tail swing down the side. If Annabel looks closely, she’ll notice my warm smile.

  “My boss isn’t going to like you hanging out there.” She picks me up and sets me on the pink bed. Even if the color is growing on me, no one, not even sweet Annabel, puts Trouble in a corner.

  I meow twice, letting her know that this is unacceptable as I surge onto the tabletop, find my spot, and settle in for a nice nap.

  Annabel waves her finger at me. “Only until my boss—”

  Ding. Ding.

  The bell over the front door jingles as an attractive male waltzes through. He’s wearing a pair of jeans, a white dress shirt, and a cocky smile. He winks at Annabel.

  If I were a human, I’d roll my eyes, but I’m not human, and the shirt looks all too familiar. This man is about the same height and size as the man at Public Storage, but his swagger is different. This man has a tad more confidence, with a dollop of false bravado. Dear me, I do believe I’m seeing danger at every turn. It must be due to the lack of a proper nap.

  “Good afternoon, Annabel. Who is your furry friend?” He picks up the mail on the edge of his desk and opens an envelope.

  “I’m so sorry, Craig. I won’t bring Trouble again.”

  “Your cat’s name is Trouble?” the male human asks with an amused grin as he scratches my back with a bit more gusto than necessary. I much prefer the tender touch of a female’s fingers, but who am I to complain about a relaxing massage?

  I roll to the side, giving him better access while I rest my head on my paws, staring at a picture of an infinity pool to be had on the Loxahatchee River.

  “I’m cat-sitting for a friend, and normally I’d leave him at home, but we had a break-in at my condo building, which is why I was late.”

  “Yes, you mentioned the break-in on the phone. And no worries on the cat. I’ve got two at home myself.” Craig sits on the edge of the desk, tossing the contents of the mail on the opposite corner. The way the corners of his mouth tip upward annoys me. I have razor-sharp instincts, and I’m the best at what I do because I trust them, and this bloke needs to bugger off.

  “Two more wedding invitations. Is everyone getting married and why do they invite their realtor? I barely know these people.”

  “They want a gift,” my human says.

  Ah, that’s telling. Our Annabel is obviously still bitter about her own thwarted wedding plans.

  “Probably. I’ve got an offer on the Brickpoint house. Damn thing has been a thorn in my side for months.”

  “That’s great. Was the offer good enough that the owner is going to take it?”

  “I think I can talk him into it.” He leans in and if I’m not mistaken, which I never am, he’s peering down her shirt.

  I do the ungentlemanly thing and roll to my back, taking his hand in my paws, and nibble on his fingers as if I’m being playful. I’m sure Annabel doesn’t appreciate being gawked at.

  I should draw blood, but I tether my emotions.

  Ding. Ding.

  I release his hand and perch myself closer to my human, rubbing my head against her hand.

  “May we help you?” Craig asks the man standing in the doorway wearing a delivery outfit of some kind. It’s not the brown of UPS nor the standard blue of the US Postal service, but more of a light gray with green trim.

  Definitely your standard parcel service.

  “Are you Craig Morris?” the man asks.

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve been served.” The man hands Craig a large envelope, then quickly turns away, making the bell ding a few more times.

  “Served?” Annabel asks.

  “It’s nothing.” Craig pulls back the metal tabs and peers inside. His eyes grow wide and that arouses my interest, but he closes it quickly. “Can you drop off the escrow papers for the Cannon sale at the bank for me?”

  “Now?”

  “Yes.” He sets a folder on the desk, dangerously close to the perfect spot where I rest my head. “And go ahead and take the rest of the day off. Use the time to study for your realtor’s test.”

  It appears I’ll be knocked up before my nap even begins!

  The last thing Ethan wanted to do was see Quinn the week of her wedding, but he had a few questions about the stolen engagement ring. If the sheriff’s department thought thieves were specifically targeting jewelry, she might actually have been tel
ling him the truth. He’d been surprised she agreed to see him, considering he’d called her a liar and a tramp the last time they’d spoken.

  He shot her a text, letting her know he’d parked in the front area of the gated community. He didn’t want to go up to her house, and he sure as hell didn’t want to see what’s-his-name.

  Leaning against his patrol car, arms folded across his chest, he stared down the street, waiting.

  This was Quinn’s dream neighborhood with its posh homes that he couldn’t afford. Even when they pooled their income together, they couldn’t afford a patio home in this development since the cheapest listing was over a million. And if he could afford a home of that caliber, it wouldn’t be in this neck of the woods. No. He’d want a place on the Intracoastal or the ocean, and it wouldn’t be a condo either. Not that he didn’t love where he lived. It was great for a bachelor, but if and when he did settle down, he didn’t want it to be in a place where outdoing your neighbors was a way of life.

  But what’s-his-name seemed to have unlimited funds and a taste for the outrageous. The landscaping alone probably cost five months of his salary.

  Ethan had grown up in the Bluffs, which wasn’t anything to sneeze at, but far from the congested wealth of this community.

  A white BMW convertible with the top down made its way through the intersection. Quinn’s shoulder-length, brown hair blew about her face. Large sunglasses covered her big, brown eyes. She waved before rolling her fancy, brand-new car next to his vehicle. She was finally getting everything she wanted.

  He honestly hoped that included the love of a good man.

  He’d never have believed that he’d feel that way, but looking at her now, all he had was compassion for another human being. A great weight lifted from his shoulders, easing the tension he’d been carrying around in his neck.

  It was good to move on.

  “You could have come to the house,” she said as her high heels clicked against the pavement. She pushed her designer glasses onto her head, pulling back her thick hair. She had expensive taste, and money had been the topic of many arguments in their relationship. She didn’t seem to understand that he would have a salary cap in his job and that he wasn’t going to up and quit for corporate. He thought she’d accepted that, but looking back over their relationship, all she had done was try to change his mind. “Brett thinks meeting like this is silly,” she said.

  “I don’t have a lot of time, and I wanted to speak to you alone.” He kept his demeanor casual. “Did you bring the report?”

  “Couldn’t you have looked it up yourself?” She handed him a folder.

  He nodded. “I wanted to ask you a few things about what was going on before and after the ring was stolen.”

  “Why? Because you think I’m still making it up and cheating the insurance company? If you recall, I offered to give you the money. I’ll write you a check right now for what they settled on for the ring.”

  He glanced at the rock on her finger. It had to be four times the size of the one he’d broken his bank account for.

  “You already got the money?” Well, one thing he knew for sure was that Quinn was terrified of breaking most laws. The first time he’d pulled her over, which is how they’d met, she’d been shaking so badly, he thought for sure she was guilty of something.

  So no way would she commit insurance fraud.

  “Five grand. I feel bad keeping the money. I still can’t believe you spent that—”

  “How about we split it?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I was going to mail it to you, hoping you’d take it. The check is in that folder.”

  Who was he to argue?

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  She rested her hands on her hips, glancing around. “So, what do you want to ask me?”

  “When you told me the story, I didn’t pay much attention.”

  “I know. You kept tossing insults at me.”

  “I think I had every right to be angry, but I don’t want to rehash all that. I just want to know what happened,” he said.

  “Why do you care all of a sudden?” she asked with the same indignation she’d displayed the day he confronted her. For a few minutes, she made it seem like he’d been the one who was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

  “I had an odd call today where an engagement ring was stolen, and while I think it was the ex who did the crime in this instance, I couldn’t help but think about the ring I bought you.”

  “Well, it’s pretty simple. I was at Forever Weddings—”

  “As in Dawn, the planner my sister used?” he asked, taking his sunglasses off and tucking them into his top pocket. “The ring was stolen two weeks after we broke up. Why the hell were you there? We never even came close to setting a date.”

  She let out a sigh of exasperation. “To plan my wedding with Brett.”

  “Shit,” Ethan muttered. “You really did move on quickly.”

  “Look, I’d been planning on breaking up with you for months.”

  “Why’d you say yes when I proposed then?” Since they’d split, they had never discussed much of anything. He didn’t think they had much to talk about.

  He was dead wrong. If he was being honest, it wasn’t just the break-in at Annabel’s that stirred all this up again. No. It had been brewing for months. He needed a few answers.

  Thinking back to that moment in time, he realized he’d proposed out of fear. They had been drifting apart. Always constantly fighting and their sex life had come to a screeching halt. He’d invested so much time and energy into the relationship that he felt like all they needed was a push to the next level, and things would go back to how it was when they first met.

  “You proposed to me in front of your entire family. I would have been a bitch to say no.”

  He laughed. His sister told him afterward that he’d been stupid and had Chip done that, she would have flat out said no just because it would have put way too much pressure on her.

  Quinn narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. The old saying if looks could kill squelched the chuckle in his throat.

  “I’m sorry, but you do realize they don’t think very highly of you because you said yes when you were sleeping with someone else.”

  “My mother wasn’t too thrilled with me either. It doesn’t make a difference now, but I called it off with Brett when we got engaged. I thought maybe all I needed was a commitment from you, but when he showed up at your sister’s wedding, I knew I was in love with him, not you.”

  “We’ve both moved on. It’s all water under the bridge.” Deep in the inner workings of his heart, that statement couldn’t have been more true.

  “I never meant to hurt you,” she said. “I did once love you very much.”

  He needed to get out of the past and into the present situation. “Tell me about when the ring was stolen.”

  “Not much to tell. I went into Dawn’s office to discuss details and when I came out about an hour later, my car had been broken into. I had the ring in a box of stuff that I meant to return to you. All of it gone.”

  Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. “What else was in the box?”

  “Some of your books, pictures. That kind of stuff. I think I had the ring box on top, but I don’t remember.”

  “Anything else stolen?”

  She nodded. “I had my Beats on the floor along with my Kindle.”

  “All in plain view? How many times have I told you that—”

  “I don’t need a lecture from my ex-boyfriend, thank you very much. And for the record, I learned my lesson.”

  “I guess that’s one good thing then, but can you tell me what happened before you went to Dawn’s office. Was there anyone in the parking lot? What about other cars? Anything?” Ethan pulled up a mental picture of what the parking lot looked like at Dawn’s building. It was a two-story building at the end of a strip mall and a relatively busy parking lot. “Where did you park?”

  “I went right
from my parents’ house to Dawn’s. Nothing unusual happened on the way there, and I parked at the end of the row up against the building.”

  “Anyone in her office?”

  “Just the photographer that shot Rosie’s wedding.” She tapped her temple with the side of her sunglasses. “Actually, he was on the way out. We talked for a few minutes. He asked how I was doing and said he was sorry to hear you and I had broken up.”

  Ethan tried not to laugh, considering the photographer had offered to capture her cheating moment so he could use it to hurt her, but he couldn’t help it.

  She cocked her head. “I don’t see what’s so funny?”

  He cleared his throat. That night, he honestly thought she’d been screwing Devin, until the headlights of his Uber showed off her and Brett’s silhouette. “Do you think the photographer could have stolen the ring?”

  “Who? Peter?” Quinn waved her hand in a dismissive fashion. “No. Besides, I watched him get in his car and leave.”

  “Why did you take the time to watch him?”

  “I wasn’t purposefully watching him. I was hitting my key fob, to make sure my car was locked. His SUV was parked right next to mine.”

  “Has there been any follow-up on the robbery?”

  “Not that I know of. I mean, there was no surveillance camera, though there is now. Probably just a couple of kids. I think you’d call it a crime of opportunity.”

  “That I would. Thanks for this.” He held up the folder. “And I wish you all the best. Really, I do.”

  “That means a lot to me. I heard Annabel moved back to town. Have you seen her?”

  Not that it was any of Quinn’s business, but he wanted her to know that he wasn’t pinning over her. “We’re going on a date tonight.”

  Quinn smiled. “That’s good. Real good. I better get back.” She opened the driver’s door, glancing over her shoulder. “Be safe out there.”

  “I always am.”

 

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