“Did you hear that, Shadow?” Marjorie turned and nearly tripped over the closely following kitten. “You might be the first of your breed in the country!”
“Oh, don’t say it like that,” Esme complained. “It makes him sound so lonely.”
Marjorie chuckled. “I said breed, not species. If he was the only cat in the entire country, then you could get teary over it.”
“Martin must’ve been keen on them to go to so much trouble.” Esme squinted at the screen then jumped as the phone broadcast a loud advertisement. “From what I can see, the kittens don’t come cheap and there’d be an airfare and clearance from MAF on top of that.”
Marjorie couldn’t imagine the Ministry for Agriculture and Fisheries would be too concerned over a new breed of cat, but her friend was right about the trouble. Even if it was a rubber stamp approval, it still had to be applied for. There’d also be quarantine and health regulations.
“I don’t understand why people can’t just pop down to their local animal shelter,” she muttered.
“Or their local kitten café,” Esme said with a laugh. “People are so weird.” She eyed the kitten and picked Shadow off the floor when Marjorie next walked by the table. After giving him a thorough examination, she shook her head. “I don’t understand the attraction myself. He’s moulting down to bare skin.”
“But look at that face!” Marjorie chucked the kitten under the chin and wrinkled her nose as Shadow closed his grey eyes in ecstasy.
“And now his tail’s wagging.” Esme picked her phone up again. “No wonder they call him a werewolf cat. This one seems to think he’s a dog.”
“In that case, he’d be the perfect pet for a couple with one dog and one cat person. Think of the arguments he’d spare them.”
It was the end of her part of the conversation for a while as a couple near the window drew her attention to a pair of black kittens. They’d arrived in the café the month before and Marjorie had nicknamed them Toil and Trouble.
They loved nothing more than pushing items off the edge of mantels or tables. In the couple’s short visit, they’d knocked a napkin, a fork, and a spoon off the place settings, the latter ending up in the woman’s purse.
“It’s how we know the earth isn’t flat,” Marjorie said as she cleared up the items and replaced the cutlery. “If it were, kittens would’ve pushed everything off it by now.”
The well-worn joke landed weakly. The spoon had been used to add jam onto the tops of the couple’s scones and made everything inside the purse sticky.
“Either behave for the rest of the morning,” Marjorie scolded as she herded the kittens to the other side of the café, “or you’ll be locked in kitten jail upstairs.”
The threat sailed over the pair’s heads as they immediately conspired to topple a feather toy off the nearest windowsill. As it landed softly on the carpet below, the two stared in adoration at the sight.
“I hope they go to the same home,” Esme remarked as Marjorie came back to her table. “They make quite the pair.”
“They do.” Marjorie sat and wagged her finger at the two kittens. “It’s always nice to see kittens making friends. They turned up two days apart from two different rescues, yet they might as well be siblings.”
“I wonder if the breeder in Australia knows about a potential home for your new arrival,” Esme said, continuing to scroll through the feed. “If there’ve been other local enquiries, it might be a simple placement. Especially if it saves someone the expensive price tag.”
“I need to wait until the police notify Martin’s next of kin.” Marjorie felt a paw on the top of her foot and peered over to see Monkey Business with a grim expression on his face. She pulled him into her lap and made a fuss of him. “But the sooner I can rehouse Shadow, the better. It’s the first time this one’s got possessive.”
“How’s the Christmas party coming along?” Esme asked, turning her phone face-down on the table. “I heard they’re expecting a decent turn-out this year.”
“I’ve worked out a baking list and since I’ll be shut the day before, there shouldn’t be any problems. It’ll just be like my normal morning.”
“Let me know if you need a hand with anything.” When Marjorie gave her an inquiring glance, Esme shrugged. “I feel bad I can’t contribute anything to the party. When I suggested giving out vouchers for a massage, Allie’s hair stood on end.”
The image made Marjorie giggle until the bell over the door rang, heralding a new arrival. When she rejoined her friend, Esme was watching a video of kittens. “It’s research,” she protested when Marjorie rolled her eyes. “Look, they’re Lykois. They could be Shadow’s brothers and sisters, or cousins.”
However, the next time Marjorie broke free of her customers, Esme’s face was grimmer. “The online news finally has an article about Martin,” she said, turning the screen around. “It says he was found by a neighbour.”
“I suppose I’m close enough to count as that.” Marjorie sat and skimmed the short article, then pushed the phone back towards her friend. “It doesn’t look like there’s anything new to add.”
“They’re probably waiting for the reports to come back,” Esme said. “There’ll be the autopsy report and maybe a toxicology report if they think he might’ve been under the influence.”
When Marjorie raised her eyebrows, Esme shrugged. “What? I watch true crime programs on TV. It’s just standard procedure.”
“Well, please keep it to yourself. Seeing the real thing has already spun me for a loop.”
“You poor thing.” Esme leapt to her feet and enveloped Marjorie in a hug. “I’m not trying to be insensitive. If your squeamish stomach needs my big mouth to stay quiet, I’ll keep it zipped.”
Marjorie disentangled herself with a smile. “You can talk all you like as long as you stick to pleasant subjects. Kittens and string, for example.” She jerked her head towards the corner where Toil and Trouble had discovered the delights of yarn.
“Should I get them out of the tangle before they hurt themselves?”
“Maybe let them play a bit longer. It might teach them a valuable lesson.”
Esme put Shadow onto the floor and gave his behind a push. “Make friends while you have a captive audience.”
The kitten took a few hesitant steps, then turned around and ran for Marjorie’s feet instead.
“Honestly! One of these days I’ll trip over you and then I’ll be dead and how will you like that? Hm?”
It wasn’t until she got behind the counter, Marjorie realised Shadow might already have experience in that department. The kitten had attached to her firmly, and she was a virtual stranger. What must it have been like for Martin?
“Don’t even think it,” Esme said, snapping her fingers. “If I’m not allowed to say things that’ll activate your squeamish gene, you’re not allowed to think thoughts that do it, either.”
The café had almost emptied for the day when Barney Baxter walked inside, looking uncomfortable. “Glad to see you got home okay,” he said with forced cheer, taking a stool near the counter. “I just wondered what happened with the kitten.”
Marjorie picked up Shadow and plonked him in front of the builder. “He’s been fine, and I’d love if you could keep him entertained for a minute.”
“You’re with the building crew?” Esme asked, seating herself next to him without waiting for an invitation. “I thought you’d be finishing up today.”
“Nah.” Barney shook his head, then laughed as Shadow copied the movements. “Looks like I’ve got Ugly Kitten as a mimic.”
“Don’t call him that,” Marjorie said, flicking a teatowel his way. “Just because he doesn’t have as much fur as the other kittens, doesn’t make him ugly.”
Barney held his hands up in surrender. “Whatever you say.” As Marjorie clicked her tongue, he turned his attention back to Esme. “The pour is taking longer than we expected but we’ll be out of your hair next week.”
“That’s g
ood. I guess you’ve all got families back home expecting you for Christmas?”
The man went still, then winked at Marjorie. “Seems like your friend is angling for information as to my marital status. Do you want to tell her I’m happily married with one kid in primary school and another on the way?”
“I’m sure you’re capable of telling her that yourself and I can assure you, no one’s ‘angling’ for your marital status. We’re both taken in that regard already.”
“Ah-huh.” While Esme looked appalled, Barney had a good laugh at her expense. “Don’t worry, I was just joking.”
Marjorie planted her hands on her hips. “I’m more worried that your schedule of works seems to have been a joke. How much is the delay going to add to my bill?”
Actually, Shaun Hayes was the one financing the building works while Marjorie would share in the eatery he put into the new development, but the builder didn’t need to know that.
Not that hiding it made any difference.
“Don’t look at me for costs. All that business goes through the lead contractor, so I wouldn’t have a clue. I’m just hoping we don’t have another time overrun. If I miss Christmas, my wife won’t be keen on me coming home at all.”
Esme’s face said she had the perfect retort for that statement, but Marjorie was pleased she held her tongue.
“What were you after?” Marjorie asked since Barney hadn’t ordered anything or even picked up a menu.
“Just checking in on the kitten and you.” He slapped his palms on the counter, playing a short riff. “But if you needed me to take care of any leftovers for free”—he tipped a wink at Marjorie—“then I wouldn’t say no.”
“The leftovers are going to the city mission.” Marjorie tipped her head to one side as she studied Barney’s reaction. “If that changes your request.”
The builder’s face scrunched up as he weighed the pros and cons. “They’d lose out if I paid for a muffin now, though, wouldn’t they?” he finally said. “So whether I actually pay makes no difference.”
“It does to me.” Marjorie pointed at the Lykoi sniffing the counter near Barney’s elbow. “His food doesn’t come free.”
Barney pulled his wallet out of his jeans pocket with an awkwardness that suggested he didn’t perform the gesture often. “Go on, then. Bad enough the kitten’s ugly, I don’t want it to starve as well.”
He handed across a few gold coins and pointed to the last double chocolate muffin in the display case. Marjorie didn’t bother to tell him the cat he was so intent on insulting was worth about two thousand times the cost of his snack. “Pleasure doing business with you, Barney.”
She shooed him out of the café just in time to jump as a cup shattered on the floor. When Marjorie turned around, she saw two black kittens feigning sleep, curled around each other in a yin-yang symbol on the floor.
“You’d better adopt out that pair, sharpish,” Esme said with a grin, waving goodbye from the doorway. “Otherwise, you’ll have to put your prices up and no one in town will ever forgive you for doing that!”
Chapter Five
“We forgot to ask about allergies, didn’t we?” Marjorie said to Monkey Business an hour later as she sat to work out the Christmas baking schedule. Although she’d told Esme she had the situation in hand, the roster wasn’t confirmed down to the last minute, the way she preferred. And now she’d discovered what could be a nasty bungle.
The café was easy to operate when it came to allergies. If a customer was allergic to any regular ingredients, they were out of luck.
As a happy coincidence, the clients who were keen on kittens with their coffee were also largely unafflicted by food allergies. Over the five years she’d been in business, Marjorie could count the number of abstentions for that reason on the fingers of one hand.
But a community event was a different story. The youngsters attending had the right to eat without fear the food would hurt them. It was one thing to have a mouthful spat out because of taste preferences, quite another if it was harmful. Even if not to the point of life-threatening anaphylaxis.
“I must write these ideas down when I have them,” she told the chocolate Persian who appeared perturbed by the conversation. “Even if it’s the middle of the night.”
Although Shadow tried to cling to her, prompting Monkey Business to do the same, Marjorie thought this task was one she could better handle alone. “Why don’t you think about what you want for Christmas and I’ll be back before you know it?”
The kittens wouldn’t know the significance of the date, but Marjorie had stocked up with a few treats throughout the year as money allowed. They were stashed in the top cupboard beside her bed, far away from prying kitty eyes.
It was hard to buy gifts when she had no idea from one day to the next who would be in her care by the time the day arrived. Luckily, her wealth of experience lent her some knowledge of universally approved feline staples.
Santa would deliver ten stockings on Christmas morning, even if she had to stay up all night to do it.
“There’s one child who can’t abide peanuts,” Allie said in response to Marjorie’s question a few minutes later. “But I can’t think if that’s because she’s allergic or if she just doesn’t like the taste.”
“Won’t there be records somewhere?”
“I’m sure Oranga Tamariki has records on all that stuff.” Allie gave a short laugh. “Let me give you a number to call. I’d offer but conversations with government departments just aren’t my thing.”
“They’re not mine either but better safe than sorry.”
As she dialled the number, Marjorie moved closer to the entrance. Just as she received an out-of-office reply, Jon strode through on a mission to somewhere, and nearly bowled her over.
“Sorry,” she said, disconnecting the call while he mumbled something under his breath. “You’re working late.”
“What are you doing here?” Allie called out. “I told you to head on home after setting up the tree.”
“Just checking there wasn’t anything else that needs fixing.” The young man sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “You said the decorations would take a long time. Should I get started on them?”
“Tomorrow,” Allie said, steering Jon back outside. “And we’ll need another coat of paint on the wall before you start tree decorating.”
“He’s been hanging around outside again,” Jon said. “The man who graffitied the wall. I don’t see why the police didn’t make him paint it over.”
“Because he’s about four months away from a conviction and sentencing,” Allie said, suppressing a smile. “As you well know, given your experience of the court system.” She turned to head inside, rolling her eyes at Marjorie, then spun around with her finger-wagging. “And don’t you talk to him, neither. You give him any encouragement and he’ll just be at it again.”
Jon shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. “I’m not about to make work for myself. There’s enough to go around as it is.” He sloped off, casting a scowl at a middle-aged man who stood on the edge of the car park.
“He doesn’t seem like any trouble,” Marjorie observed.
“Who? Jon?”
“No.” Marjorie pointed to the sad figure standing outside. “The graffiti artist.”
“I’m sure he’s all smiles and sunshine until something doesn’t go his way.” Allie slammed the door shut. “I’ve got a good mind to call the police to move him on.”
Marjorie sidled up to the nearest window and peeked outside. “Looks like he’s got the message.” The man was striding away, shoulders slumped in dejection.
“It’s ridiculous. We’re hosting a party not holding his son ransom.” Allie ran a hand through her short hair, puffing air out of her mouth. “Perhaps I should call the police, anyway. Given the damage he already did to the centre, I would’ve thought they’d issue an order to keep him far away.”
“Maybe they did.” Marjorie dialled the non-
urgent station number. “Regina? I’m down at the community centre and a man who caused damage earlier is hanging around outside. We’re checking to see if there’s something we can do.”
PC Regina Ashcroft’s response had Marjorie holding the phone away from her ear to protect it from damage. She winked at Allie. “I take it he’s not meant to come near here, then?”
After a short discussion, Marjorie hung up the phone. “The police trespassed him from the centre when they released him, so he’s not meant to come within one hundred metres of the place. Regina said if you see him again, don’t hesitate to call.”
“Well, that’s good to know.” Allie moved nearer the window. “It doesn’t explain why Jon’s still hanging about.” She tapped on the glass, but the young man didn’t appear to hear her. “First, he doesn’t want to come here at all, now I can’t get him to leave.”
“What’s his home life like? Everyone seems to be stressed about Christmas this year, have you noticed? Perhaps he’s avoiding going home.” Marjorie put her hand on the doorknob. “I’ll engage him in conversation on my way out. That should send him scurrying.”
But Jon headed away before she could catch up to him. While fumbling to unlock her car door, a woman cleared her throat behind her and Marjorie turned, squinting. “Can I help you?”
The lady was around Marjorie’s age but could have been older considering the aura of wealth that surrounded her. Money usually lent people confidence as well, but that gift appeared to have bypassed her altogether.
She wrung her hands together, a diamond engagement ring that could have paid for Marjorie’s house and café sparkling in the early evening light. “I have a load of Christmas gifts in my car for the party,” she said in a high, thin voice. “Do you know where I should take them?”
“It’s just through that door there,” Marjorie said pointing. When the woman followed her finger but didn’t make a move, she offered, “Can I give you a hand taking them inside?”
Lykoi Larceny Page 3