by Lori Herter
THE CAT cOLLECTOR
A Cozy Mystery Series
By
Lori Herter
Copyright 2019 by Lori Herter
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations in articles or reviews—without the permission in writing from its publisher, Lori Herter.
All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. I am not associated with any product or vendor in this book.
This is a work of fiction. All situations, characters and concepts are the sole invention of the author or are used fictitiously.
Published in the United States of America.
An earlier version of the opening novella in this volume, “The Coffee Caper,” was previously published by Lori Herter under the title “A Murder Brewing” in an anthology titled “Murder, Mystery & Mayhem” compiled and published by Orange County Fictionaires in 2017.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Many thanks to Licensed Veterinary Technician Lisa Gregory for her expertise in veterinary work, and for reading my novellas to make sure my descriptions of pet clinic procedures are correct.
Cover Art by: SelfPubBookCovers.com/ RLSather
TABLE OF CONTENTS
THE COFFEE CAPER
Chapter 1: A Clerical Error
Chapter 2: Amaretto Ambrosia
Chapter 3: Holy Hell
Chapter 4: Losing Objectivity
Chapter 5: The Bride’s Room
Chapter 6: The Cabinet above the Kitchen Counter
THE WINGED WITNESS
Chapter 1: “Shut up, Hal!”
Chapter 2: Bingo
Chapter 3: What Could Possibly Go Wrong?
Chapter 4: A Happy Reunion
Chapter 5: The Cut N Snip Salon
Chapter 6: Eleanor
Chapter 7: Somebody at the Door
Chapter 8: Life Won’t Be the Same
THE CLAIRVOYANT CAT
Chapter 1: A Few Years Earlier
Chapter 2: Present Day
Chapter 3: A Murderer Loose
Chapter 4: A Whole Other Ball Game
Chapter 5: The Funeral
Chapter 6: All in a Day’s Work
Chapter 7: A Pair of Men’s Shoes
Chapter 8: Wrigley’s Psychic Advice
Chapter 9: Dinner at The Old Mill
NOVELLA I
THE COFFEE CAPER
By Lori Herter
CHAPTER one
A Clerical Error
Claudia Bailey did her best to tune out the noise level at the Bumblebee Café, bustling as usual at noontime. Located in a western suburb of Chicago, the historic eatery, built of brick with big windowpanes, faced the First Presbyterian Church across the street. Both buildings were vibrant remnants of the early 1900’s. She glanced out the window at the white stucco church with its bell tower, beautifully set off by a few large oak trees in full autumn colors, and a green lawn. Quaint and picturesque, First Presbyterian made a popular wedding venue. Claudia and her husband had been married there. And eleven years later his funeral service had been held there.
Sitting in one of Bumblebee’s vintage wooden booths, casually dressed in pants and a sweater, Claudia was feeling disheartened and confused. “Wish our sweet old Pastor Collins hadn’t retired,” she told her friend Amy Kopecky. “Glen McGrath is so different. He says one thing, does another. His sermons are simplistic. He and his wife seem contemptuous of our church’s customs. Even the pancake breakfast!”
Their blue jean-clad young waitress brought the ice teas they ordered. Claudia and Amy had walked over to the restaurant for lunch after spending their Saturday morning setting up and decorating tables for the church’s annual pancake breakfast in Fellowship Hall the next morning, a church tradition so old no one remembered anymore why it was held.
“I wonder if McGrath and his wife will even come,” Amy said, pushing her medium-length curly red hair out of her face.
“What did the Pastor Nominating Committee see in him?” Claudia wondered aloud with puzzled annoyance. She glanced around the crowded restaurant, hoping no other church members had come in. Lowering her voice, she added, “Of the bunch of resumes they considered, McGrath’s was the best they could find?”
“I think they made a clerical error,” Amy darkly quipped, her hoop earrings dangling as she spoke. “Mostly due to Sue Ember’s influence, from what I hear.”
Claudia had to agree. “Sue was on the PNC. And she’s had a high profile around church for a long time. Years. I used to like her well enough, even though she’s so conservative, her dad having been a fundamentalist minister and all. But lately, she’s gotten a little full of herself.”
“And she’s been wearing eye-makeup and lipstick. She always looked so plain. What’s up with that?” Amy asked. “Hasn’t she always said she met the love of her life in high school, but he died? Never met anyone she could love as much, and that’s why she’s a forty-something spinster. Is she having a mid-life crisis?”
“I have no idea,” Claudia said. “I had a wonderful husband. When he passed away, I decided I’d never remarry. But the last year or two, I’ve begun to think if I met a nice guy, maybe I could fall in love again. I’m pushing forty. Is that a sign of a mid-life crisis?”
Amy perked up. “So you’re looking to date?”
Claudia smiled and adjusted the tortoiseshell barrette that held back her long blond hair at the nape of her neck. “I’m open to the idea. Not desperately looking. No need for you and Larry to try to play matchmaker.”
“Larry’s got some single co-workers at his CPA firm . . . .”
“Never mind,” Claudia said with an indulgent sigh. She knew Amy, like the good friend she was, only wanted Claudia to be happy. “Let’s get back to McGrath. He’s so hard to figure out. I don’t know who he is. When the Adult Ed committee met two weeks ago, he sat there silently, like he couldn’t make up his mind if he was annoyed or bored. I even caught him rolling his eyes. He’s been here over six months. You’d think he’d be more in sync with us by now.”
“The Adult Ed committee is probably way too progressive for him,” Amy said. “Aren’t you putting on that discussion program between a Christian minister, a Rabbi and an Imam?”
Claudia nodded. “A Trialogue. The retired minister who organizes it named it that. They’re booked up months in advance. We finally were able to pencil them in on the church calendar for the second Saturday in January.” She paused. “Now that I think of it, it’s when we were discussing it that McGrath rolled his eyes.”
“Well,” Amy jested in a sarcastic tone, “he wouldn’t want any non-Christian darkening our door. I bet he’d even frown on a Catholic priest.”
Claudia shook her head with dismay. “Sadly, we’re in an era where people are afraid of others who follow a different faith. A lot of members like Sue are quite drawn to McGrath. He’s become more openly conservative than when he first came. Like he has a hidden agenda. Feeding their fears. It’s unsettling.”
Amy leaned across the table. “Larry told me something even more unsettling. Keep this to yourself.”
“Sure,” Claudia said.
“Remember when McGrath was voted in? He signed a contract to receive a certain salary. Soon after, he talked to my husband and indignantly complained that the salary he’d agreed to wasn’t enough for him to live on. He said the church owed him an adequate income. Larry was taken aback, but he chairs the Finance Committee and discussed it with them. They all have financial backgrounds and managed to find ways to legally dip into memorial funds and give McGrath the s
alary he wanted. He got a big raise, and he’d only just started.”
Claudia leaned back, dumbfounded. “Why didn’t they sue him for breach of contract or something?”
Amy shrugged. “McGrath was the PNC’s choice, so they felt he should be given a chance. They met with him privately and went over his finances. Turned out he came to us already carrying a big credit card debt. So Larry asked him, ‘Why did you agree to our offer if you knew it wouldn’t be enough?’ McGrath said he felt a sacred call to our church and trusted God would lead him and us in the way to resolve his money problems.”
“So God was his co-conspirator in keeping his debt secret?” Claudia commented in a dry tone as she turned to glance around the restaurant again.
Amy spread her hands. “Unbelievable, isn’t it? Larry has tried to give him some financial counseling, but McGrath seems to resent being schooled about his personal—”
“We better cool it,” Claudia interrupted. “Sue Ember just walked in.”
Amy turned to look. “Oh, no. Do we have to invite her to sit with us?”
Claudia sighed. “I’m afraid so. She’s my neighbor—lives a block away. And she brings her cat to the clinic. Our office manager wouldn’t like me alienating a client.” Claudia worked as a veterinary technician at the Briarwood Cat Clinic.
Hiding her reluctance, Claudia smiled as she waved at Sue and motioned her to come to their table.
Her tall, full figure covered by a loose chambray tunic over black polyester pants, Sue looked awkward as she walked up to their table. “Hi,” she said, sounding a trifle uneasy as she smoothed her thick brunette hair, cut in a precise Dutch boy style. Her dark eyebrows were curiously uneven, with one brow arched higher than the other, matching the slightly unbalanced contours of her face. “Could’ve figured I’d find you here. I just finished putting the flowers on the tables in Fellowship Hall.”
“You did a nice job,” Amy said affably. “I saw you in the church kitchen arranging all those vases.”
“Thank you.” Sue took an arch tone. “Even Jo Louise McGrath managed to compliment me on them.”
“The pastor’s wife stopped by?” Claudia said with surprise. “Come and sit with us. We ordered sandwiches, but they aren’t here yet.”
“Oh, she stopped by—for five whole minutes,” Sue said with a sniff as she sat down in the booth next to Amy, who obligingly moved over. “Jo Louise—what a snooty name, huh? Those hawkish eyes. She’s been getting more involved, trying to bring our activities up to her standards. She’s only three feet tall, but she still manages to look down her nose at everybody.”
Claudia and Amy laughed.
“I think she’s at least five foot two,” Claudia said. “Sounds like you don’t cotton to her.”
“Do you like her?” Sue countered.
Claudia tilted her head. “Not exactly, but she does seem to try to be the perfect pastor’s wife.”
“OMG, it’s like she’s from central casting!” Sue exclaimed. “She’s got him wrapped around her perfectly polished little finger.”
“Tell us how you really feel,” Amy joked, her green eyes sparkling.
“I will! He has to take her out to dinner at The Old Mill every week. You know what an overpriced restaurant that is. Probably so she can show off the expensive clothes she buys.”
“I’ve heard he has financial problems,” Amy ventured. “Jo Louise does have a nice wardrobe. You think his wife’s a spendthrift?”
“I’m sure of it,” Sue declared.
“But you still like Reverend McGrath, right?” Claudia asked, trying to understand Sue’s point of view. “You always speak up for him if he gets criticized.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Sue said. “He’s the best thing that ever happened to our church. The Lord is definitely working through him. He’ll get us on the right path.”
“I didn’t know our church was on the wrong path,” Amy muttered.
“It’s just too bad he was dazzled by a pretty face,” Sue went on, “and married someone who only thinks of herself.”
“But you just said it’s like she’s from central casting. The perfect minister’s wife,” Claudia reminded her.
“Yeah, but it’s all an act,” Sue insisted. “All her gracious empathy. She’s a big phony. She’s said some pretty snippy things to me. A real two-face.”
The waitress came by with the sandwiches Claudia and Amy had ordered. “Sorry, it took so long,” she said as she set the plates on the table. “We’re pretty busy.” She looked at Sue. “What can I get you? Ice tea? Coffee?”
Sue made a face. “Ugh, I hate coffee. Diet cola and a tuna on rye, please.”
“Coming right up.” The waitress hurried off.
Amy chewed a French fry, her eyes crinkling impishly as she glanced at the woman next to her. “Speaking of coffee, Sue, my husband says that our Reverend McGrath bought a pricey new espresso machine for his office, along with a posh Aubusson rug. And he used the Wedding Committee’s money to pay for them. The ladies on that committee need to buy a new white carpet for the center aisle, and discovered their budget was depleted. You know anything about that? Did Jo Louise insist he buy those items?”
Sue squared her shoulders and her expression toughened. “No. He wants to have a cozy environment when he counsels couples about to be married. He’s thoughtful about things like that.”
“But he didn’t get church approval,” Amy said. “The Finance Committee didn’t know about it anymore than the Wedding Committee.”
“He’s our pastor,” Sue declared indignantly. “Our shepherd sent by the Lord. Why should he have to get approval?”
“Because that’s the way the Presbyterian Church does things,” Amy argued. “He’s not following rules.”
Oh, boy. Claudia nervously scratched her nose. Change the subject. “You have a new haircut, Sue. Looks great.”
Sue seemed disconcerted by the sudden shift, but her stern brown eyes softened as she seemed to take Claudia’s hint. “Thanks,” she said. “Got a new hairdresser. She showed me how to do make-up, too.”
“I’ve noticed,” Claudia said. “You look very nice. More polished and sophisticated. Looks like you’ve lost some weight, too.”
Sue smiled with pride. “Thirteen pounds. Working to whittle off more. When I was young, I was a size ten. Aiming for that again.”
Apparently following Claudia’s lead, Amy took on a friendly tone. “While I’m thinking of it, Sue, I have a crystal pitcher to donate for the Silent Auction. You’re collecting items for that, aren’t you? When is it?”
“The Silent Auction is set for the second Saturday in January. I’ll start taking items after New Year’s.”
Claudia looked up from eating her turkey sandwich with alarm. “That can’t be right. The Trialogue is set for that evening. I watched Verna put it on the church calendar myself, months ago.” Verna was the church’s longtime secretary.
“That date was empty when I saw the calendar,” Sue said blithely. “I penciled in the Silent Auction myself.”
“But . . . how can that be?” Claudia said, aghast. “How could what Verna wrote have disappeared?”
“Beats me,” Sue said.
“On Monday, go to the church office and ask Verna. She’ll know,” Amy told Claudia.
“You bet I will!”
Sue chuckled. “Good luck.”
Claudia wanted to ask Sue what she meant by her snarky “good luck,” but the waitress arrived with Sue’s cola and sandwich. The disruption caused Claudia to think better of starting another conversational minefield.
Instead she asked Sue, “How’s your cat?”
“Knickerbocker’s been okay. Peeing in the litter pan more than usual though. Maybe because he’s getting old?”
As Claudia came up with reasons why a cat might pee more, she noticed Amy looking up at the ceiling, obviously stifling her impatience. She felt bad that Amy was getting irritated, all because Claudia felt she had to invite Sue to join them. B
ut by this point, Claudia knew discussing a cat’s litter pan habits was a lot safer than church talk.
CHAPTER two
Amaretto Ambrosia
On Monday, Claudia left the cat clinic to take her lunch break. She drove to the church, parked, and walked into the office to the left of the sanctuary. The office was not large, with a reception desk, a small conference room, another room that contained the Xerox machine and other equipment, and four small offices, the largest one belonging to the pastor.
Destiny Gorski, the twenty-year-old receptionist who sported a fuchsia streak in her short black hair, looked up and smiled. “Hi Claudia. How are you?”
“Fine, thanks. Is Verna here?”
“Verna’s at lunch.” Destiny blinked her thickly mascaraed lashes. “Can I help?”
Disappointed, Claudia asked, “May I have a look at the big calendar? I thought I had a Saturday reserved for the Trialogue.”
“Sure, let’s go look.” Destiny tugged down her tight mini-skirt as she rose from her seat behind the counter.
They walked into the conference room, where on a small desk in one corner the official church calendar was kept. Destiny paged through it to the date Claudia gave her. They both peered at the lines allotted to the second Saturday in January.
“It says, ‘Silent Auction.’” Destiny glanced at Claudia. “It does look like something was erased underneath.”
At that moment, the pastor’s door opened, bringing forth a whiff of coffee. Claudia straightened her back when she saw Glen McGrath stroll out. Middling tall, thinning brown hair, forty-something, with a face that was neither homely nor handsome, he was curiously non-descript. He glanced at Claudia, his face blandly impenetrable.
“Going to lunch,” he told Destiny. “Hello, Claudia.” He barely nodded.