The Missing Cash Mystery

by Doris Hay

  The people in the room are different ages, different sizes, different colours. Some look fancy, some don’t look fancy at all. One guy looks like he hasn’t slept in a week.

  “What is this?” I ask Zorro.

  “Shh, keep it down.”

  The window is open, but there’s a screen in the way so we can’t get in. That’s okay. If we stay out here, we probably won’t get noticed. Not if we keep quiet and stay still.

  When the meeting gets started, all the people sit in a circle. They say a prayer, so I guess it is church after all. Someone reads a passage from the bible, I guess. I’ve never read the bible, but I didn’t know it was about drugs. And I always thought it was written in old-timey language, but maybe this is a newer bible.

  After the reading, the people in the circle take turns talking. They all talk about doing drugs. Actually, they all talk about not doing drugs. That’s why they’re here: to support each other. They all want to do drugs, but they also don’t want to do drugs.

  This is very confusing.

  Amber starts to talk, and this is where I perk up and pay attention. If I’m ever going to solve the mystery of who stole the money from Gemma and Ed’s safe, I’ll need to know if Amber was in on it. Or if she has any pertinent information.

  She tells the group she’s missed them all while she was away on vacation. Someone asks how it went, and she says, “Good and bad, I guess. It sucks to stay at an all-inclusive resort when you can’t drink, but Tommy was a saint. He said he wouldn’t drink so I wouldn’t be tempted, and he didn’t the whole time we were away.”

  The group agreed that was nice of him. Very supportive boyfriend.

  “Boyfriend, yeah,” Amber says, looking down at her paper cup. “Here’s the thing: when we were down in St. Lucia, he asked me to marry him.”

  Everyone in the room gasped and some people cheered and offered congratulations.

  “Don’t get ahead of yourselves. I said no.”

  The gasps faded. Some turned to sighs. One person said, “Oh, that’s too bad.”

  “I love him and all, and it’s not like I want to be with anyone else, it’s just that…” Amber sighed and paused for a long time because telling the group, “It’s Tommy’s parents. They’ve always thought the worst of me. They think I see him as a meal ticket, and I don’t!”

  “That’s why you said no when he popped the question?” asked the nice lady Amber had hugged earlier.

  Amber nodded. “I know how hurt he was, and still is. It wasn’t easy to say no, but I gave him a no with a caveat: I said I won’t marry him until he’s self-sufficient. Like, I have a job. He doesn’t. I don’t want him moving in with me and sponging off me the way he sponges off his parents, you know? If he can go out and get a job, that’s a step in the right direction. If he can move out of his parents’ house, even better.”

  The group takes this news very well. They congratulate her and call her a strong woman. I can tell that they’re proud of her decision.

  “Wow,” Zorro says. “That’s big news.”

  True, but it isn’t news that seems relevant to the safe break-in. Maybe if the break-in happened after the proposal, but not before.

  Except Zorro asks a question that gets me thinking: “I wonder where Tommy got the ring.”

  “The ring! Of course! Engagement rings cost a lot of money. What’s it supposed to be, three months’ salary?”

  “And where do you get that kind of cash,” he asks, “if you don’t have a job?”

  In the church basement, someone else is talking about their troubles. The only matter I can concentrate on is the safe break-in.

  “Here’s an idea,” I say to Zorro. “Maybe the money wasn’t the only thing that was stolen.”

  Zorro tilts his head, looks from the meeting to me. “What are you getting at, squirt?”

  “I’m just thinking that if Tommy had the combination for the cash safe, why wouldn’t he have the combination for the jewellery safe too? Maybe, while he was stealing the money, he got his hands on the ring. Maybe it was an heirloom. Maybe it belonged to Tommy’s grandmother, something like that.”

  “And he knew his mother would never hand it over—not so he could put it on Amber’s finger.”

  “Exactly!” I cry. “Gemma hates Amber. She’d never allow an heirloom to fall into that girl’s possession.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Zorro says, being ultra-reasonable as usual. “Don’t you think we’re getting ahead of ourselves? We don’t know for sure there was a ring involved.”

  “There must have been, if he asked her to marry him.”

  “Well, we don’t know that it was from the jewellery safe.”

  “True…”

  “If all that cash was stolen, Gemma would have gone through her jewellery to make sure none of that had been taken.”

  “You’re right about that.”

  “Did Gemma ever mention a ring going missing?”

  Sighing, I gaze through the window screen. “No, she never mentioned any jewellery going missing.”

  Indoors, the meeting seems to be wrapping up. They’re saying another prayer.

  “Come on,” Zorro insists. “Let’s get out of here before somebody notices us.”

  Before he even finishes his sentence, he’s already leapt to the top of the window well. His back claws scratch the metal when he sticks his landing, and the noise is so loud I freeze.

  “Hurry up,” he said. “Jump!”

  “I don’t know if I can make it,” I admit. He might as well be asking me to scale a twenty-storey building.

  That’s when I hear a voice behind me saying, “Hey, look at that! There’s a cat in the window.”

  “Isn’t she cute?” someone else replies.

  “I wonder how she got down there.”

  “She must be trapped.”

  Zorro cries, “Jump, Ginger, jump! You’ll never make it if you don’t try.”

  Shaking my head, I say, “I’ll never make it, Zorro.”

  “Well, I’m not leaving without you!”

  My heart hammers as the window screen slides open behind me.

  “They’re gonna get you!” Zorro howls. “You gotta jump! Just do it!”

  “I can’t,” I tell him. “It’s too high. You need to run home now, or they’ll catch you too.”

  “No, Ginger! I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Just go!” I squeal. “Go tell Butterball what’s happened. He’ll have a plan.”

  While I’m focused on Zorro, I feel a hand wrap around me.

  This is it. They’ve got me. I’m a goner!

  Chapter 10

  Without thinking, I dig my claws into its big fingers and chomp down with my teeth. The person grabbing me lets go and I hear a man scream. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but when I whip around I see an older gentleman cradling his hand, sucking blood from his finger.

  “Kitten has claws,” he says.

  And then a familiar voice speaks up: “I know that cat.”

  It’s Amber.

  Amber approaches the window with a kind smile on her face. “That’s my neighbour’s kitten. Oopsie’s always yapping at her. I wonder how such a tiny kitty made it all the way here.”

  I glance upward, but Zorro is gone. He must have taken my advice and headed home to tell Butterball. Thank goodness! I’d be humiliated if he saw how easy it was for Amber to reach through the opening in the window screen and grab me with one hand.

  This time, I don’t fight back.

  “It’s okay, little kitty cat. Do you know me? I’m your neighbour. I’ll take you straight home. I bet your mommy is worried about you!”

  Her voice is warm as honey. When she starts petting my head with just one finger, I purr and purr. I wish I could tell Zorro I’m in safe hands. I don’t want him to worry about me.

  Some of the other people from the meeting want to pet me, too. I let the ones I like and slash the ones I don’t. They get the picture.

  The old lady Amber wa
s talking to before the meeting comes over. Amber likes her, so I do too. Most of the room has cleared out by now, but Amber tells the woman, “I know we planned to go for a little walk, but I’m gonna have to get this kitty back home.”

  “Can’t you bring it on our walk?” the lady asks. “We can make a leash out of string.”

  This walk sounds very exciting to me, but Amber says, “No, she’s only a kitten. I should really get her straight home.”

  The lady looks disappointed, but she says, “I’ll see if Georgina’s got time for a stroll.”

  I try telling Amber I don’t want to go straight home, but of course she doesn’t understand me. Sometimes I really do wish I could communicate with the humans.

  When we leave the church together, I get to see the world from a very different perspective. I’m up high, in Amber’s hands. I can see the grasses I leapt through with Zorro on the way here, but Amber’s cutting across the parking lot.

  Without even realizing it, I start squirming. I can’t help myself. I want to play in the grass! It’s so thick and lush and natury!

  Amber tightens her grip on my little body. “No, no, kitty-cat. I don’t want you getting hurt. Right there’s a main road, and there’s lots of big cars driving on it. Very dangerous for a tiny kitten.”

  I know I should stop squirming, but I can’t help myself. Even though I like Amber, it’s not comfortable to be held for this long. I want to play in the grass.

  When I see a butterfly fluttering from one clover to the next, I really start to squirm.

  Amber just holds on tighter.

  “It’s okay, kitty. We’ll get you home in no time flat.”

  She hurries along the driveway, then onto the sidewalk. Past the flower shop, past the fruit market.

  When we arrive at the diner, Amber stops dead in her tracks.

  “No,” she says. “It can’t be.”

  We swivel so we’re facing the plate glass window. Amber gets really close, peering in. Even I know this is rude, and I’ve never been to a restaurant in all my life.

  “I don’t believe this,” Amber mutters.

  The elderly couple sitting at the table by the window glares at Amber, but it takes a moment before she notices them. When she does, she backs up bashfully and says, “Oops, sorry,” though I doubt they can hear her.

  She takes a couple steps toward the diner entrance, and then holds me so close to her face I could bite her nose if I really wanted to.

  “I know I promised to take you straight home, kitty, but I’ve got a really important thing I need to do right now. So…” She sighs heavily. “I’m sorry to do this, but I’m going to put you in my purse, okay? Don’t worry, it’s a big purse. I just need to you stay very, very still and quiet because kitty-cats aren’t allowed where we’re going. Deal?”

  Normally I wouldn’t be enthused about spending time in someone’s purse, but Amber’s right—hers is quite large. Anyway, I’m curious about what’s got her so amped up.

  She unzips her purse. It’s not leather, like Doris’s. I like to chew on leather. It’s delicious. This one is just some kind of fabric material, I don’t know what. Not very interesting.

  Amber flattens her wallet, which smells like plastic, and sits me on top of it. “I’ll be as fast as I can,” she assures me. “Remember, shhh!”

  When she zips her purse closed, I admit, I’m very scared. But I remind myself I’m on a mission. When I get home, I want to be able to tell Zorro how brave I was when I got put in a purse.

  Anyway, the purse doesn’t zip all the way closed. There are gaps on either side of the zipper where sunlight shines in.

  Amber pushes open the diner door and bells ring overhead. All I can see is up as we rush to the back of the restaurant. Then we’re moving down. Amber’s sitting. Her purse is in her lap. She says, “Penelope!”

  Penelope? Tommy’s sister Penelope? The one who lives in Arizona and didn’t come home for Easter? What is she doing here?

  “Oh, hey, Amber…”

  Sounds like she’s talking with her mouth full. I hear her take a drink of something and swallow it down.

  “What on earth are you doing here?” Amber asks.

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m eating the world’s best fries and grilled cheese sandwich at my favourite diner.”

  Flatly, Amber says, “You flew all the way home from Arizona for a grilled cheese sandwich?”

  “And fries.”

  If I look up through one of the gaps beside the zipper, I can just make out Amber’s face. Mostly her chin, but still. It doesn’t look like a chin that believes what Penelope is saying.

  “This is ridiculous,” Amber replies. “Tell me what you’re really doing back in town.”

  “I swear to you, I came back for grilled cheese.”

  “Give me a break, Penelope. How long have we known each other? Since we were, what, seven? You can’t lie to me.”

  “And you can’t keep a secret,” Penelope shoots back. “That’s why I didn’t tell you I was back home.”

  I can feel Amber sitting up a little straighter. The action pulls up on her purse, knocking me off balance. She says, “Who do you think I’m going to tell?”

  “My mom, for starters.”

  “Your mom doesn’t know?”

  “You can’t tell her,” Penelope growls.

  “What? This is crazy! Why are you here? How long have you been in town? How long are you staying?”

  Penelope sighs from across the table. When she starts talking, she’s got food in her mouth again. “Look, if I tell you, you have to promise you won’t say a word to anyone. I mean it. Not even my brother.”

  “Fine, I won’t tell,” Amber says, but I don’t believe her.

  I’m glad Penelope does, though, because I’m very curious to hear why she’s home.

  “The real reason I came home was… for the grilled cheese.”

  Amber growls. “Oh, give me a break!”

  “No, I’m serious,” Penelope says. “I know that sounds ridiculous, but when I was in Arizona, I was just so far away from everything that was familiar to me. Can you understand that, at least?”

  With a sigh, Amber cautiously says, “I guess.”

  “I missed this sandwich. I missed these fries. I missed this street. I missed this city. I just missed… I just missed home. Arizona wasn’t home.”

  Amber’s expression softens. I can only just make it out, but I know she’s starting to believe her old friend. “So you moved back without telling your family? I don’t get that. And, wait, where are you living? Holy Crow, did you get a job?”

  Penelope lets out a cackle so forceful it brings on a cough. She needs another drink of her water, or whatever she’s got going. I can’t see from here.

  “Of course I didn’t get a job,” Penelope says. “Who would hire me? I rented a house on the other side of town.”

  “Well, how are you paying for that?” Amber squeaks.

  Sigh. “Look, you really can’t tell my mom any of this, but…” Another sigh. “You know the house in Arizona? The one I’m supposed to be living in?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I decided to sublet it.”

  “What!?”

  “It was too big for just one person. I rented it out. Nice gay couple. Two point five kids. I’m milking them dry.”

  “I can see you’re real torn up about that,” Amber says.

  I can practically feel Penelope shrugging. “Rented me a nice little homestead, got plenty of cash for food and stuff. Life is good.”

  “But your parents own that house. Shouldn’t the rent money go to them, not to you?”

  “What am I, a lawyer? Anyway, I never liked living alone. Gave me the heebie-jeebies, being in that big house at night.”

  “But you’re okay in the new place alone at night?”

  “Oh, I’m not living alone. You remember Victor we went to school with?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He was lookin
g for a place to live.”

  “So you’re living with Victor?”

  “Not like that,” Penelope says. “He’s married now.”

  “So it’s you, Victor, and his…”

  “Wife.”

  Amber makes a noise that sounds like disbelief.

  “What?” Penelope asks. “I told you, I don’t like living alone! I like to have people around me.”

  “Are Victor and his wife paying rent?”

  “We…” Penelope sounds a little embarrassed when she says, “They contribute to the household.”

  Amber jostles her purse in a way that suggests she’s forgotten I’m inside it. “So let me get this straight: you’re renting out the house your parents own to pay for this place in town, which you’re also renting out to Victor and his wife?”

  “Yeah,” Penelope says simply.

  “Gotta love these rich kids,” Amber grumbles.

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing.”

  Someone approaches the table to ask if Amber wants anything to eat. Must be the waitress. I wish I could see her. I’ve seen diner waitresses on TV shows, and they’re always either pretty young women or older ones with a lot of what Doris would call “character” in their faces.

  Amber doesn’t order anything, but Penelope asks the waitress to bring a slice of coconut cream pie.

  “Aren’t you afraid of running into your mom or dad?” Amber asks once the waitress is gone. “We’re right around the corner from their house.”

  “Oh, they’d never come in here. As soon as they had money, they turned their backs on places like this.”

  “Your mom, yeah, but not your dad. He comes here all the time.”

  “But Mom doesn’t,” Penelope says. After a long moment, she adds, “Well, that’s why I sit by the back. I’m sort of hidden.”

  If she was so well-hidden, Amber wouldn’t have spotted her through the plate glass window. I wish Zorro was here so I could share these thoughts with someone. As it is, I can’t even meow without getting caught.

  “You couldn’t pay me to spent time with my mom,” Penelope continues. “She was enough of a basketcase before the break-in. I don’t even want to know what she’s like these days.”