Purrs and Peril

by Jinty James

  “I could hear the magnolia tapping on my bedroom window last night. That wind was fierce.” Zoe shivered. “I was glad I wasn’t living alone.”

  “I nearly knocked on your door last night, asking if you’d like some hot chocolate – and company. But I didn’t want you to think I was a baby.” Lauren smiled ruefully.

  Zoe grinned. “Let’s make a pact that if one of us is scared about anything, we’ll tell the other right away.”

  “Deal.” The cousins high-fived each other.

  “Did the wind bother Annie?” Zoe asked as she put a cupcake on a white china plate.

  “No. She was fast asleep on my bed. I told myself if my cat wasn’t scared of the weather, then I shouldn’t be, either.”

  Lauren took the tray over to Mrs. Finch, interrupting her conversation with Annie. She was telling the feline about her trip to the grocery store yesterday.

  “I hope you enjoy this, Mrs. Finch.” Lauren placed the cupcake and teapot in front of her. “Would you like me to pour?”

  “If you would, dear. My hands aren’t as steady as they used to be.”

  Lauren poured the tea and added the milk, knowing the old lady enjoyed a dash. She made sure not to fill the cup up to the top, so if Mrs. Finch’s hand was unsteady, she wouldn’t spill the hot liquid on herself – hopefully.

  “Call me if you’d like anything else,” Lauren glanced at the Norwegian Forest Cat. “Or send Annie to get me.”

  “Brrt,” Annie replied importantly.

  “I will, dear.” Mrs. Finch smiled. Lauren noticed her pink lipstick was a little smudged. “I must say, you’ve done a wonderful job here. I used to come all the time when your dear grandmother was alive, you know. And it’s just as good—” she glanced at Annie “—if not better now.”

  “Thank you,” Lauren replied, glad that one of her favorite customers was happy with the café’s new incarnation.

  Lauren noticed a customer waiting at the counter and hurried over to serve him. Zoe must be in the kitchen, doing the dishes. They had a dishwasher, but sometimes it was quicker to wash the crockery as and when needed during the day.

  “I’m going.” Ed pushed open the swinging door. Big and burly, he had monster rolling pins for arms, full of muscle.

  “Thanks, Ed.” Lauren smiled.

  “I won’t be in tomorrow,” he warned. “Dental appointment.”

  “I know. I’ll make extra cupcakes.”

  “Good,” he grunted, and returned to the kitchen.

  “The dishes are up to date,” Zoe declared a few minutes later as she emerged from the kitchen. “And Ed’s gone home.”

  “I know.” Lauren nodded.

  “Do you think I could leave a couple of minutes early today?” Zoe checked her watch.

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks.”

  Lauren hesitated. “Are you going to tell me why?” She wasn’t nosy, just curious, she told herself. Besides, her cousin usually told her everything about her life – even if sometimes it was a little bit TMI.

  “I’ve got a date!” Zoe looked like she wanted to jump up and down.

  “Another one?” Lauren inwardly groaned.

  “That’s why I didn’t tell you.” Zoe bit her lip. “But I’ve got a good feeling about this one, I swear.”

  “That’s what you said last time,” Lauren reminded her. “And he left you stuck in a Japanese restaurant in Sacramento, with the bill.”

  “I know.” Zoe looked downcast for a moment. “Which is why—” her naturally sunny personality re-emerged “—we’re meeting at a local restaurant this time. And, I’m going to ask the server for separate checks from the start. So if he does try to stick me with the bill, it won’t work!”

  “Who is he?” Lauren asked. Her cousin had been internet dating for a few months now, bemoaning the lack of eligible men in Gold Leaf Valley – unless you wanted a boyfriend over the age of forty. Lauren continually reminded her that wasn’t quite true.

  “He’s five foot ten, so a little taller than me,” Zoe replied. “And he has a job!”

  “That’s encouraging,” Lauren said, wondering if her generation should be so easily pleased.

  “And he lives in Marysville but he said he likes Gold Leaf Valley, so it’s no problem to meet me here for dinner.”

  “Good. What time are you meeting him?”

  “Seven. But I want to have a shower and decide what to wear. And then walk over to the steakhouse.”

  “I’ll drive you,” Lauren offered. Zoe didn’t own a car. She hadn’t needed one in San Francisco. “In fact, why don’t you borrow my car again? That way you’ll be able to come home whenever you like.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course. I want you to be safe.” Lauren didn’t have any plans for the evening apart from watching something on Netflix with Annie. “Do you want me to call you at 7.30 and see how you’re doing? I could be your emergency phone call.”

  “I want to be totally optimistic and say that won’t be necessary but after the Japanese restaurant incident, I think it’s a good idea.” Zoe sighed. “I know you think I’m wasting my time dating like this, but I would like to get married one day – whenever that will be.”

  “I know. So do I.” Lauren couldn’t help wondering what was wrong with meeting a potential love interest the old-fashioned way – in person first. But she had to admit, however reluctantly, that that wasn’t working out for her at the moment – and hadn’t for a while.

  “Hey, if tonight is a success, maybe he’s got a brother or a friend you could meet – like a blind date!” Zoe laughed. “Just like dating last century!”

  “I’m not ready for orthopedic shoes yet – I’m only twenty-six!” Lauren protested. She was one year older than Zoe.

  “That’s what you say,” her cousin teased.

  “Brrp!” Annie trotted to the counter.

  “Is Mrs. Finch okay?” Lauren asked.

  “Brrt.” Annie seemed to nod her head.

  “Maybe she’s ready to pay,” Zoe suggested.

  “I’ll go check.” Lauren walked over to the secluded table, Annie by her side.

  “It was lovely, Lauren.” Mrs. Finch pulled her tan wallet out of her handbag, her hand trembling. “Here you go.” She pressed the money into Lauren’s hand, along with the bill. “Buy a little something for Annie.”

  “Thank you. I will.” Lauren smiled. “Would you like Zoe to walk you home? It’s no bother.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Mrs. Finch managed to stand without much trouble. “It’s not far to my house.”

  “If you’re sure?”

  “Annie could escort me through to the door.”

  “Brrp.” Annie walked slowly toward the entrance, looking over her shoulder as if checking Mrs. Finch followed.

  Lauren watched the two of them make their way to the front door.

  “Mrs. Finch looks like she’ll be okay,” Zoe observed.

  “I hope so,” Lauren replied, wondering if Annie was intuitive enough to tell her if she thought Mrs. Finch wasn’t up to walking home by herself. Probably.

  “If you don’t need me, I’m going to get ready for my date.” Zoe’s eyes sparkled. “Don’t wait up!”

  CHAPTER 2

  Zoe gulped down her latte the next morning. They were due to open the café in a few minutes. Annie sat opposite, looking bright-eyed and interested, her long whiskers shining in the sunlight.

  “It was a disaster,” Zoe moaned. “He didn’t look like his photo – at all. That picture must have been taken when he was twenty or something. His profile said he was thirty-seven—” she raised a hand “—I know, a bit old but I thought, hey, he’s under forty. Nuh-uh.” She shook her head.

  “Oh.” Lauren’s heart went out to her cousin. She hadn’t heard anything about Zoe’s date last night, not even when her cousin had returned home at nine o’clock. She’d muttered, “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow,” and escaped to her bedroom.

  “He must have
been forty-five – maybe older!” Zoe sounded outraged.

  “But when I called at 7.30 you sounded okay,” Lauren said.

  “I know. He was a few minutes late, and yes, I was totally disappointed with his appearance, but I thought, Lauren would say to give him a chance. Maybe he isn’t as old as he looks. And he did seem to be five foot ten, so his profile wasn’t a complete lie.”

  “So what happened?” Lauren leaned forward. So did Annie.

  “We asked for separate checks, so that bit was okay,” Zoe continued. “But I think he’s a cheapskate. He actually suggested we go back to my place for dessert to save money!”

  “He didn’t!”

  “Yep.” Zoe nodded. “There’s no way I’m going to invite a first date back to my – your – place. Not these days. Not even in Gold Leaf Valley. So I told him, sure. But I should call my roommate and ask her if she can put Rudy, her Rottweiler, out on the porch. Because Rudy’s used to being inside the house at night to protect us. You should have seen him pale.” Zoe laughed.

  Lauren joined in with a giggle.

  “Then he looked at his watch and said never mind, he had to get up for work early, anyway. He called the server over, paid his check and left.”

  “I haven’t heard you use that excuse before. I think you should use it all the time from now on.”

  “You bet I will!” Zoe blew back a lock of hair that brushed her face. Her pixie cut was short, apart from a few strands that substituted for bangs covering her forehead.

  “Was that when you came home?” Lauren asked.

  “Nope. I had dessert first. And you know what? It was definitely worth the money. Chocolate mousse cake that melted in my mouth.”

  “ISN’T IT TERRIBLE?” A harried mother with a bursting to the brim shopping bag collapsed at the table Annie led her to. She spoke to her companion, who looked like an avid exerciser in her shorts and tank top.

  “I know.” The exerciser tutted. “And he was so young!”

  “What are they talking about?” Lauren murmured to Zoe, as she slid the last batch of blueberry muffins into the glass case. She’d had to bake extra that morning because Ed wasn’t working today.

  “I don’t know.” Zoe frowned.

  The café had only been open for fifteen minutes, but it was busier than usual. And those customers weren’t the first to talk about something terrible happening.

  “Do you know, Annie?” Lauren bent down to the silver tabby.

  “Brrt.” Annie sounded sad.

  “Oh, she does know.” Zoe clapped a hand to her mouth. “It’s not Mrs. Finch, is it?”

  “They said he,” Lauren whispered.

  “Oh – that’s right. Phew.” Zoe looked at her cousin in dismay. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do.” Lauren’s stomach sank. If only Annie could tell them who everyone was talking about!

  “But how on earth did it happen?” A middle-aged couple walked past the counter, so engrossed in their conversation that they didn’t notice that Annie hadn’t greeted them at the Please Wait to be Seated sign. “Steve looked pretty healthy.”

  “Steve!” Lauren’s eyes widened.

  “Oh no!” Zoe looked shocked. “Not Steve. He was in here yesterday and seemed okay.”

  “He did look tired, though,” Lauren said. “And I think he was worried about something.”

  “Maybe I should go to his house and check,” Zoe suggested. “Maybe they’re talking about another Steve. And he lives next to Mrs. Finch, so it will only take me a minute to run over there.”

  Before Lauren could say, “Good idea,” the door to the coffee shop opened.

  She turned her head, noticing that the background hum of shocked conversation had halted.

  “Brrt?” Annie queried as she gazed at the entrance.

  A tall man in his early thirties with short dark hair – cut a little too short, as if he didn’t want to waste time with recurring trips to the barber – filled the doorway. He wore charcoal gray slacks and a white button-down shirt.

  He was lean but muscular, as if he worked out regularly, and his presence seemed to command the room for a long moment.

  Then the soft hum of conversation resumed, Lauren’s customers returning to the business of perusing the menus at their tables, or taking a sip of their coffee or tea.

  Lauren watched him stride to the counter. Her stomach fluttered – something it hadn’t done in a while.

  “Who is he?” Zoe whispered in her ear.

  Lauren shook her head, mesmerized at his approach. He seemed so sure of himself.

  “I’m looking for Annie.” His voice was deep and masculine.

  “Brrt?”

  Lauren blinked, Annie’s enquiry breaking the spell.

  “I’m looking for Annie,” he repeated, louder this time, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown. He had a straight nose and a mouth that didn’t look as if it smiled enough. His serious dark brown eyes confirmed that impression. The whole package added up to one good looking guy, though.

  Lauren cleared her throat. “This is Annie.” She pointed to the Norwegian Forest Cat, then realized he probably couldn’t see the tabby behind the counter. “Annie,” she called softly, walking out from around the counter. Annie followed.

  “That’s a cat.” His gaze narrowed.

  “This is Annie,” Zoe chimed in.

  He raked his hand through his hair. “This is the Norwegian Forest Café, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.” Lauren nodded.

  “Then why would someone tell me to talk to Annie? Is there a person called Annie working here?”

  “No,” Lauren replied.

  “And why is there a cat on the premises?” He frowned again. “Isn’t that a health code violation?”

  “This is a certified cat café,” Zoe told him. “Although Annie is the only cat here. She seats the customers.”

  “Okay.” He looked like he was humoring them.

  “Who are you?” Lauren’s curiosity won out over the butterflies in her stomach.

  “Sorry.” A tiny stain of crimson hit his cheekbones. “I’m Detective Mitch Denman. I’m investigating the death of Steve Quigan.”

  “So it was Steve.” Zoe grabbed the edge of the counter.

  “What do you know about the matter?” His gaze zeroed in on Zoe.

  “We couldn’t help overhearing our customers,” Lauren said quickly. “They’ve been talking about an incident since we opened this morning.”

  “We heard the name Steve and I was just about to go over to his house to make sure he was all right, when you showed up.” Zoe stood straighter and let go of the counter.

  “What happened to him?” Lauren asked. “He seemed okay yesterday.”

  “He was here?” This time his gaze landed on her, making her cheeks heat.

  “Yes,” she replied. “He ordered a large latte to go.”

  He pulled out a small notebook and made a notation. “What time was that?”

  “Around 10.30, I think.”

  “Did he order any food?”

  “No.” Lauren shook her head.

  “What else can you tell me about him?”

  “He drank a lot of coffee, and he was worried about something,” Lauren said slowly, thinking back over her conversation with Steve, trying not to be distracted by the detective standing so close to her. “I think it was work related.”

  “I’ve been told he was an accountant,” the detective said.

  “That’s right,” Zoe replied. She scrutinized him, furrowing her brow. “Are you new to town? I don’t remember seeing you before.”

  “Yeah, I’m new,” he replied in a clipped tone.

  “I think Steve was working on a job for the Episcopal church,” Lauren said.

  “Brrt!” Annie agreed.

  “What did he do after you made his coffee?” he asked Lauren.

  “He walked out of the café. I assumed he was heading home,” she replied in a puzzled voice.

  “Who f
ound him?” Zoe asked.

  “Pastor Mike.” He checked his notebook. “He runs the Episcopal church.”

  “That’s right,” Lauren murmured.

  “Apparently the vic—” he noticed their faces and rephrased “—Steve didn’t turn up to an early meeting with the pastor that morning, and didn’t answer the phone. So Pastor Mike drove over to the house, and saw him through the glass insert in the front door. He was lying in the hallway.”

  “Oh no.” Lauren worried her lip.

  “How did he die?” Zoe asked.

  “We won’t know for sure until the report comes back,” he told them. “Did he say anything else to you while he was here yesterday?” His intent gaze honed in on Lauren. “Was he having a dispute with someone, or problems in his personal life?”

  “He was divorced,” Lauren said. “But as far as I know he wasn’t having problems with anyone – apart from this work thing he was worried about.”

  “Thanks.” He made a notation. “That’s all I need for now, but I might be back later. When do you close?”

  “At five.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Lauren noticed Annie trotting to the entrance, where Hans, a dapper old man stood.

  “Hello, Annie.” His voice held a trace of a German accent. “Where should I sit today, hmm?”

  Annie led the way to a small table near the counter, and hopped up on the chair next to his, as if reading the menu with him.

  “Huh,” the detective muttered. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

  CHAPTER 3

  “I’ve been thinking,” Zoe said later that day. They’d finally gotten a minute to chat, after being slammed with customers all day.

  “What’s that?” Lauren looked up from the blueberry muffin she was plating.

  “Why did that detective ask us all those questions?”

  “Because it was his job?” Lauren had avoided thinking about him – Detective Denman – Mitch – all day – or at least had tried to.