by Lilly Graves
If he was short-staffed last night, I’m sure he’s definitely short-staffed now. I’ve got a plan to get on his good side and sneakily get some information out of him. Just in case, I’ll set my compact on record. It’s a long shot, but you never know.
I pull my shoulders back and take in a deep breath before opening the heavy glass door. The scent of coffee beans floods my senses in a good way. Hey, I might hate black coffee, but the smell of its beans is definitely not bad at all.
My Aunt Nova is in line, talking with Sandra from Marney’s. I get in line a couple people behind them.
“Remember when we were on the MCU Cheer Squad?” I hear my Aunt Nova say amidst the sound of whirring machines. “Those were the days, huh?”
Sandra chuckles. “Those young college days are a blur. Some things I’d like to forget. Like the cattiness.”
“Oh, definitely. I was guilty of that myself, having been cheer captain. I was always in the middle of gossip.”
“You mean you’re done with gossip now that you’re all grown up?” Sandra challenges with a playful arch of her brow.
“Hey, I am a grown woman, sophisticated in every way. I don’t give in to rumors and gossip.”
“Then you wouldn’t want to know some juicy stuff I just found out?”
Aunt Nova leans in with a smile spreading her red lips. “All right, you’ve tempted me. What is it?”
Right now, I so wish I had my cat ears. Hearing with these human ears can be the pits. Especially in a noisy cafe, machines whirring, people chattering, music playing from the speakers. Yeah, I admit it—I’m a fool for juicy gossip myself. I’ll blame that whole curiosity and cats thing. Sandra puts a hand up to her mouth to emphasize the secrecy between them.
After Sandra whispers a bit, a sparkle shining in her eyes, she pulls back awaiting Nova’s response.
“He’s not.”
“He is.” Sandra nods.
“He couldn’t.”
“He could.”
Looking flabbergasted, Nova wipes some platinum curls off her forehead. “How did you find out?”
“I ran into him, perfectly by accident. He looks the same as ever. No, even more hunky. His biceps have tripled in size, and his hair! Remember that head of hair he had? It’s even more gorgeous now. It goes down to here.” she gestures past her shoulders.
“So, he’s out now. After all these years?”
I can’t help but think of Sylvester Moon. They must be talking about him. But Aunt Nova already knew this juicy bit of gossip. I had told her Julian was trying to arrest me over releasing him from the facility. Maybe she is simply acting surprised, so it sounds like the first time she’s heard such news. She wouldn’t want me to get into more trouble, become part of the gossip.
Or maybe they’re talking about something else altogether.
I glance over both shoulders, realizing I haven’t been watching out for Julian very carefully. That’s when I spot him entering the cafe. Our eyes don’t meet, and I wouldn’t dare give another second for that to happen. I dash out of line, through a meandering crowd awaiting their order, and nearly dive into the back kitchen.
Nobody is back here. It’s too busy out front to be dealing with the sink overflowing with cups and saucers. The back door is blocked with boxes. I need out of here. I wave and shoot some blue magic at the boxes and instantly they triple in size.
“What is with my magic these days?” If I’m not shrinking things, I’m growing them way too big. I just want to get out of here.
Spotting a work cap and matching brown apron, I yank them down and put them on. This is the next best idea. More than anything, I’m hoping the attire camouflages me. If I can’t run out of here, then I’ll try and blend in.
I go over to the sink of dishes. I have never done this before. I know enough about soap and its bubbles to turn over the bottle of liquid and squeeze. Then I turn the water on hot and watch as it slowly rises.
My heart is pounding. I hate how I have to run and hide from Julian, lest I’ll get arrested. I still can’t believe that he would cuff me! Doesn’t he understand why I did what I did?
Never mind. I snap some yellow gloves over my hands in wait. Julian will come in, order, wait in line for several minutes, and then be out. I’ll bide my time.
But then I hear a sudden voice from behind, startling me. “Who are you?”
I whip around and clutch the sink behind me. Hal is standing there. Suddenly he looks more than a foot taller than I ever remember him. He’s somewhere around six and a half feet tall, already, so you get the gist of what I’m saying. It’s like a beefy basketball player suddenly entered the kitchen, with a mop of red hair.
“Me?” I squeak. Get it together, cat! Er, woman! Whatever you are! I clear my throat. “I just got hired today by…” I swirl my hand in thought. I don’t know the name of the woman who helped me at the register last night with the croissan’wich. Speaking of which, I am suddenly hungry on top of being freaked-out scared. My stomach gurgles.
“...By Jennifer,” he finishes for me.
“Uh, yes!” I point up, perking. “She got my application and told me to come on in tonight. You guys had your hands full.”
“That’s right.” His brow softens as his eyes cast to the dirty dishes and then the delivery and back. “We do have our hands full.”
I stare at him, feeling some of the blood come back to my face in relief. My crazy, sudden plan worked. I can’t believe it.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to it.”
“Thank you, um, boss!” I don’t know why, but I gave him an Army salute and clicked my heels.
After giving me a funny look, he accepts the gesture and walks out, back to the front.
I take a few moments to breathe. Next thing I know I feel hot water seep against the back of my pants. “Oh no!” It’s spilling over. I turn it off and sigh.
Most people get lessons from their parents on how to do chores. I’m getting thrown right into it without anything.
I busily get to work. What’s so hard about it anyway? I just have to make sure that the dishes have no crumbs, no spots, nothing on them, and then put them into the dishwasher for the final showdown. I’m soon feeling like a pro, beaming at a row of plates all lined up pretty. Seeing a spot on one of them, I pluck it back out, lick the back of my gloved hand, tasting the yellow rubber with a cringe, and then wipe at the offender till it disappears with a squeak.
Perfect.
At the end of the night, when the cafe closes, I’ll talk to Hal. I’ll get a confession out of him somehow. In the last murder mystery, I had used a homemade truth serum. That hadn’t ended up going according to plan, as the suspect said that sent him straight to the hospital.
Every once in a while, Hal comes to the kitchen to get more dishes and restock supplies. He seems happy with progress, along the way. Since I refuse to take a break (where would I go?), he brings me some food to snack on throughout my shift: yogurt with granola, a bagel with cream cheese, a breakfast sandwich, some fruit….
The hours go by, and the back kitchen looks sparkling from top to bottom. After the boxes fiasco, I never once used my magic, either. And people think cats are lazy. Hmmph.
When it rolls around to ten pm, the chattering of customers starts dying down and my heart begins racing again. My mind has been whirring all night. So, a truth serum is out of the question. What about hypnosis? Unbeknownst to their owners, cats can sometimes hypnotize people. It’s not like we just go around doing it, though. Well, for the most part. Just enough to become masters over our own homes. I’ve had a strong hunch that Sir Sebastian Meow-Meow has used this power over Nova quite often. Why else would she allow a cat to eat at the table?
When Jennifer waltzes into the kitchen at closing, I decide right then to seize control of the situation. Intensely staring at her with my jewel-blue eyes, I’m ready to hypnotize the unsuspecting barista, and hope that I can actually pull it off.
Chapter 17
&nb
sp; I step to the barista, meeting her in the middle of the tile floor of the small space. “Hi, Jennifer. I’m Chloe. You hired me.”
“I hired you?” Her brow scrunches.
“You hired me.” I focus harder. “You hired me.”
She’s speechless for a long moment, staring back at me.
Maybe it’s working.
I lift my hands and spread my fingers, focusing more. “Yes, I turned in my resume yesterday when I ordered the egg croissan’wich. You took a look at it and told me you needed the help right away. You asked if I was available the next day. Remember?” I wiggle my new spindly appendages like slow jazz hands, and a pale blue glow starts to emanate.
“What the heck are you talking about?” She shakes her head and her eyes un-focus. “Why are you doing that weird hand thing?”
“Okay,” I huff, dropping them. “You didn’t hire me, but I saw how busy you were tonight, and so I threw myself into the kitchen to help. When Hal asked what I was doing, I told him you hired me. He had no problem with it at all. In fact, I think I helped save the day back here.” I point to the dishwasher with pride. “That’s the truth. Can we keep my secret?”
“Um, no, I am not a liar. I am not going to lie for you.”
“Technically, you’re not doing any of the lying. It’s all me. So, no problem then, right?”
“Yes, there is a problem. I need to go tell Hal right away that some imposter is back here, pretending to work for us.”
Oh great, is this what people so lovingly call a Karen? Have I come full-blown head-to-head with one? “You’re going to tattle on me for cleaning the dishes, because you didn’t technically hire me. Is that right?” I cross my arms and lean back on a hip with attitude.
“I-uh-there’s something fishy about this. Just wait here while I go get him.”
“On his birthday! You’re going to tell him that someone invaded his kitchen and cleaned it up, pretending to be an employee, like that’s a negative thing. You’re threatening to ruin the cheer of his birthday?”
“It’s his birthday?”
“Of course it is. Sheesh, as a longer-term employee, you’d think you’d know that and not me—someone who just came today! You’ll ruin his night with something he doesn’t need to worry about. If you do go to him, I’m going to just quit then. You can work tomorrow shorthanded.” I start untying my apron as a threat. “And Hal will be doubly upset.”
She puts up a hand. “Okay, okay. It’s our little secret.”
On her way back out, I hear a chipper, “Happy birthday, boss!”
Hal comes into the kitchen the next moment, looking confused over the remark, but shakes it off. “You did a good job tonight.”
“Thank you.”
Since hypnotizing didn’t seem to work, I’ll just have to do things the old-fashioned way. Clever conversation. “It was a busy day, after what had just happened last night. You know what I mean?” I point with my thumb back toward Marney’s.
Before Hal answers, I whip around to put away a dish, so that my back is turned to him. Then I slide the new magical compact out of my pocket. Opening it, I quietly command, “Start recording.”
“What did you say?”
The compact lights up and I slide it into the large bib pouch in my apron. Turning back around, I answer, “Oh, nothing. But, yeah, I was saying I didn’t expect things to be so hopping after the murder last night.”
“The only thing about business that’s predictable is that it’s unpredictable.”
Trying to sound like a confidant, simply wondering about the case, I ask, “Did you know the victim? Did you ever hear of her before?”
“Maggie Twitchell. She was a nut running a nuthouse. The stories I’ve heard about Shady Pines could make a big man like me shake in his boots.”
“Have you ever been there?”
He hesitates. “No, just stories.”
“I’ve seen the place. It’s pretty creepy.” I stare at him, hoping to have him divulge more, but he’s blank. And it gets awkward.
I try a bit of reverse psychology. “I don’t mean to take time on the clock babbling. It’s just that I haven’t really had a chance to talk to someone about it. Maggie may have been rough around the edges, but she’s a real dear.”
“A dear?” he scoffed.
“Oh, yes. I heard she made cookies for orphans, and sewed blankets for babies, she helped widows and the homeless. She did so many acts of service, she was really like a modern-day Mother Theresa, God rest her soul.”
If Hal’s the killer, the sweet talk should be driving him nuts right about now. Red creeps up his neck and flush his face, proving I’ve hit a nerve.
“Did I say something wrong?” I go on without waiting a beat. “You know, the mayor is thinking of holding a candlelight vigil for her at The Harvest Moon Festival. I hear that he’s also planning on revealing a grand statue of her beside the bell tower, wherein she’s cradling a baby. Oh, and there will also be children carved lovingly in tow, grasping at her beloved nurses’ uniform.”
“That’s B.S.!” Like a gavel, he slams a hand on a nearby counter, rattling the cupboards of plates above it. “That woman was Satan incarnate. I should know! I was married to her daughter years ago.”
Ooooh, the mother-in-law angle. It’s all coming together. The vision that made him scream at Marney’s.
I peek in the pouch of my apron. The compact is still recording, since I didn’t command it to stop. I want to smile at my cleverness, but I can’t break character.
“I didn’t know that, wow! So, she isn’t a sweety-pie little ol’ lady, after all?”
“No, the complete opposite of everything you just listed. Complete!” He slices the air with a large arm in anger.
“If that's so, it almost sounds like someone had a very good reason to kill her, then.”
“Yes, I am positive they did!”
I can hardly believe I’m getting this recorded.
“I mean, by what little bit you’ve told me here, I wouldn’t blame you if you offed the old hag yourself.”
Hal freezes, shifting his eyes and returning them to me. “No, I wouldn’t do that. Trust me, if I ever wanted to, I could have years ago, when she became the wicked ol’ Mommy Dearest by marriage into the family.”
Rats! He’s not going to say he would’ve been able to do it, even hypothetically. “So, there was no reason that you’d ever actually want to follow through with it yourself, even though she was Satan incarnate.”
“She never physically attacked me or my wife. Maybe she knew better. Maybe she feared me. If she had tried laying a finger on us, then maybe, maybe I would hurt her to the point of no return.”
He sounds like he’s being completely up front. I can’t expect a murderer to just blurt that they did it, either, though. Thousands of criminals claim innocence, even when behind bars for life. I wish I had something more than just his word to disprove my theory that he’s the killer.
“I saw what the killer did to her, and not by choice,” he goes on, wagging a finger. “I decided to finally try one of Marney’s moon pies for once and, let me tell you, I regretted it right away. The vision was an awful, gory mess. It made a big man like me scream and then faint. I can’t stand the sight of a needle, not even a drop of blood. So, you can imagine!”
A popping, fizzing sound steals our attention. I look to my left, where the dishwasher is, and I can’t help but notice the thousands of bubbles that start pouring out of the cleaning contraption.
“Oh no,” I blurt.
“How much soap did you put in that thing?”
“Maybe just like four cups.”
“Four cups? Are you crazy?!”
Then an eruption of a bubbling waterfall pours onto the floor. We’re right away a few inches deep in it. Hal tries turning it off, by pushing the Power button, but it disobeys. Not tapping, punching or kicking while slipping around on the floor, helps.
I try pushing the Power button myself to no avail, and
then feel my feet slip out from under me. I reach for the counter to catch myself, whacking it with my fingers and falling flat on my butt.
Hal finally grabs a wooden spoon from a drawer and points it at the fitful machine. He blurts some Latin and the dishwasher makes a loud belching sound, releasing a cloud of steam. But at least it stops.
“Looks like I’ve tamed the beast. But you know what this means, right?” He looks down at me, below his bushy eyebrows.
“You don’t have to say it.” I stand and pull my apron off. “I’ll let myself out.”
“Is that blood?” he points.
I look at my hand that had barely caught the sharp edge of the counter for a split second. A little blood is dripping down from my middle finger onto my palm.
A loud, wet THUD makes me jump. There, on the floor is Halacious, unconscious.
Chapter 18
After writing a quick “I’m sorry” note and stuffing it into Hal’s apron, I beat it out of there. I’ve done enough meddling and caused enough trouble in the back of The Coven’s Cup. I’m not going to jinx things further by trying to clean up the mess some more.
What can I do now? I thought I was this close to solving the case and having the evidence stored in my compact. I touch the back of my black jeans. It’s still there, safely in my pocket.
Wildes Road is lit up by strands of glowing bulbs, going from one antique lamp post to the next. The clouds that congregated overhead while I was at work release some light sprinkling of rain, some landing on my bare cheeks. I could really use my fur right now. It is the weirdest sensation. Let’s not forget my butt is wet from my little slip-and-slide accident.
Where do I go now? I stop beside the toy store and look around. The street is becoming bare. Pedestrians tend to disappear around this time, after ten p.m. It makes sense. All of the shops are closed.
My rear-end starts vibrating, startling me. It’s akin to the magical buzzing that takes place when I’m about to shift. Is my tail going to suddenly spring out? How embarrassing, I look over my shoulder, wishing that I could will the sensation away.