Purrs and Peril

by Jinty James

  Lauren glanced around. Most of the tables were occupied, a low buzz of conversation filling the room.

  “I’ll have to ask Zoe to cover for me.”

  He nodded. And waited.

  Lauren’s mind raced as she entered through the swinging doors into the kitchen. Zoe was doing the dishes, pink rubber gloves on her hands.

  Ed was crimping the pastry edges on a pie. Right now, Lauren’s nerves were too jangly for her mouth to water at the thought of Ed’s cherry pie.

  “Zoe,” she hissed, not wanting to disturb her pastry chef.

  Ed didn’t look up, intent on perfection. Lauren knew from experience that once he was in the zone it was difficult to attract his attention.

  “Has he gone?” Zoe looked up from the sink, a soap bubble on her cheek.

  “No.” Lauren wrinkled her nose. “He wants to talk somewhere quieter.” She hesitated to say the word “private.” “Can you cover the counter for me?”

  “Sure.” Zoe peeled off the rubber gloves and strode toward her. “Sorry I ran away like that, but there’s just something about him that makes me wonder if I’ve committed a crime I’m not aware of and he’s going to arrest me.”

  “I know what you mean,” Lauren murmured, wishing she didn’t. How could she be attracted to him? Maybe she should follow her cousin’s example and explore online dating instead. Even if it hadn’t worked out for Zoe – so far.

  “Where are you taking him?” Zoe asked curiously.

  “The hallway. If I don’t reappear in ten minutes—”

  “I’ll save you.” Zoe grinned. “Well, Annie and I will.”

  “Good.” Lauren felt a little better.

  Once Zoe stood behind the counter, Lauren gestured to the detective to follow her to the other side of the store. Parallel to the kitchen was a tiny hallway, and an unobtrusive door – with a cat flap.

  “We can talk in here.” Lauren unlocked the door.

  Mitch followed her inside the narrow passageway. Lauren noticed he left the door open.

  “Where does that lead?” He motioned to the yellow door at the other end of the small hall. It, too, had a cat flap.

  “To my cottage,” Lauren replied. “Annie can go home whenever she needs a break.”

  “That’s clever.”

  “Thanks.” Lauren caught herself smiling, and told herself to stop. “What did you want to talk about?”

  “What do you know about Mrs. Finch?”

  “She’s a sweet old lady,” Lauren answered. “I think she’s lived here all her life.”

  “Have you?”

  “No. I moved here a few months ago, when I inherited the café and the cottage.”

  “What about Zoe?”

  “She moved here not long after I did,” Lauren answered. “We’re cousins.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “But why are you asking about Mrs. Finch? I don’t think she could hurt a spider.”

  “We’ve got the autopsy report back. The victim died of belladonna poisoning.”

  Lauren blinked, casting her mind back to college classes. “Isn’t belladonna also called deadly nightshade?”

  “Yes.” He gave her a hooded glance. “Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

  “No.”

  A pause.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure.” Lauren straightened her shoulders. “Do you think I’m a suspect because I happen to know another name for belladonna? I’m sure a lot of people know that fact as well. Are they all suspects?”

  “What else do you know about Mrs. Finch?” he asked.

  “She lives alone.” Should Lauren tell him the elderly lady could be a bit forgetful at times? Would that help or harm? “I haven’t known her very long. She used to come to the café when my grandmother ran it.”

  “Your grandmother—” he raised an eyebrow, then noticed the expression on Lauren’s face. “You inherited from her?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sorry.” He sounded sincere.

  “Thanks.”

  “The reason we searched Mrs. Finch’s house is we need to discover who had access to belladonna. Her garden is overgrown at the rear, and we took a lot of samples. We’re also checking the victim’s neighbor on the other side of his house, if that makes you feel any better.”

  Lauren racked her brain. Who else lived next to Steve? Unfortunately, she came up blank. Obviously not someone who was a regular customer. Perhaps they worked fulltime, or commuted to Sacramento.

  “Have you found anything?” she asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.

  “Not yet,” he replied. “Everything needs to be logged and sent to the lab. But, the victim – Steve – ingested the poisoning the night before he was discovered – or so the medical examiner says.

  “And,” he added, “it seems he drank some coffee with the belladonna.”

  “Coffee?” She furrowed her brow. “Why would you ...”

  “It could be suicide.” He looked at his notebook. “You said he drank a lot of coffee.”

  “You seriously don’t think he killed himself?” Lauren’s eyes widened.

  “We’re not ruling anything out at this stage. And please keep what I told you just now to yourself.” His lips tightened. “I shouldn’t have told you as much as I have.”

  “But—”

  “It’s not as if it’s an obvious murder, where he was hit on the head with a blunt object,” he said brusquely. “He was poisoned. And now I have to find out if he killed himself, or if someone else did.”

  CHAPTER 4

  After the detective left, Lauren barely noticed when Zoe told her in a disgruntled voice that Ms. Tobin hadn’t left a tip – again.

  Surely Steve wouldn’t kill himself – would he? She didn’t want to worry Zoe and Annie by voicing her thoughts, so she tried to concentrate on a new cupcake menu for the following week when she had a few minutes downtime between customers.

  She didn’t even enjoy Ed’s cherry pie at supper as much as she usually did. Zoe had taken Mrs. Finch a slice, and had refused payment, saying she’d pay for it herself.

  “Lauren?” Zoe waved a hand in front of her face. “Are you okay?”

  “Just woolgathering – sorry.” Lauren noticed Annie looking at her in concern as she sat at the table with them.

  They were in Lauren’s cottage, in the small dining alcove adjacent to the kitchen. Supper had consisted of the leftover paninis from the cafe, and the famous cherry pie.

  “I’ll cover the cost of Mrs. Finch’s slice from the petty cash.” She smiled at her cousin. “We might need to check on her a little more often with the investigation going on.”

  “Definitely.” Zoe nodded. “Let’s hope the police don’t bother her again – and that they don’t find anything incriminating.”

  “Brrt!” Annie agreed.

  “I think we should talk about something else,” Zoe declared after a moment. “Like my date tomorrow.”

  “Another one?” Lauren stared at her cousin.

  “I know last week’s date was disappointing,” Zoe said, “but I decided to give it another try. We’re meeting for lunch at Gary’s Burger Diner tomorrow – that’s okay, isn’t it? I told him I could be there from twelve ‘til one. That way if he’s a dud, then I don’t have to stay long. And I’ll be back for the second half of the lunch-time rush which is the busiest time.”

  “Oh, Zoe.” Lauren bit her lip at the thought of handling all the customers herself.

  “I shouldn’t have. Sorry.” Zoe patted her arm, suddenly looking contrite. “I’ll email him and cancel. I just thought Wednesday lunch at the café wouldn’t be as busy as Thursday and Friday.”

  “You’re right, it shouldn’t be,” Lauren told her. “But Ed’s not working tomorrow so I’ll be the only one on duty for a while.”

  “Oh, shoot, I forgot!” Zoe clapped a hand to her temple. “I’ll definitely cancel and ask to reschedule. In fact, I’ll do it
right now.” She whipped out her phone from her pocket and tapped away.

  “All done.” She showed Lauren the screen. An icon appeared.

  “I think you’ve got a reply already.”

  “I have?” Zoe peered at the screen. “He says it’s no problem and we can reschedule.”

  “What about tomorrow night?” Lauren suggested, feeling a little guilty at scuppering Zoe’s plans, but feeling relieved she wouldn’t be holding the lunchtime fort on her own.

  A few seconds later ...

  “He said yes.” Zoe sounded happy. “And his photo’s not bad either. Want to see?”

  “Okay.” Lauren took the phone from her cousin. A guy who looked to be in his late twenties peered out from beneath a baseball cap. His features looked even and attractive.

  “I hope his photo wasn’t taken twenty years ago,” Zoe muttered as she shoved the phone back in her pocket.

  “At least you’ve got Rudy the rottweiler as an excuse now,” Lauren reminded her.

  “Maybe I should go on a date with Rudy,” Zoe joked.

  THE NEXT MORNING, PASTOR Mike stood at the Please Wait to be Seated sign.

  “Brrt.” Annie scampered to the balding man’s side. Lauren knew she liked the preacher.

  “Hi Annie,” he greeted the cat, a touch of sorrow on his face.

  Whenever he visited the café, Lauren felt vaguely guilty that she didn’t go to church more often.

  “How’s everything?” she asked as he approached the counter, Annie by his side.

  “I can’t believe Steve’s dead.” He shook his head.

  “I know.”

  “He was auditing the church books,” Pastor Mike continued. “He does it every year for us – free, even though I keep – kept – asking him to send us a bill, but he always said that was his way of giving something back to the church.”

  “Like a new coat of paint?” Zoe joined in the conversation. “Oops – sorry.” Regret flitted across her countenance.

  “You’re right,” the pastor admitted. “The church does need repainting. But it’s a big job, and right now there doesn’t seem to be enough money in the fund to cover it.”

  “Maybe you could have a working bee,” Lauren suggested. “Everyone could pitch in. I could help on my day off.”

  “Me too,” Zoe added. “It could be really fun.”

  “That’s an idea,” the pastor said thoughtfully. “I was waiting until Steve had gone through the books to work out what to do about money for the repainting but now ...” he tailed off.

  “Have the police released the work he’d done so far?” Lauren asked.

  “No,” Pastor Mike replied. “The accounting will just have to wait a bit longer. It waited last year too – Steve was due to go over the books a year ago, but got the flu, and somehow, we never got around to asking him to look at them until now. Pamela’s been so busy with all her duties – I thought I’d take the burden off her and hire Steve myself this year.”

  “Pamela’s the church secretary, isn’t she?” Lauren queried.

  “Yes, part-time,” Pastor Mike replied. “We’re lucky to have her.” He sighed. “But now I’ll need to speak to Steve’s family and see if they’d like to hold the service here in Gold Leaf Valley.”

  “I thought he lived alone,” Zoe said.

  “He does. But he has an ex-wife in San Diego, and parents in Florida.”

  “Oh,” Lauren and Zoe murmured.

  After a few minutes of conversation, the pastor left with his regular cappuccino and a chocolate cupcake.

  “I don’t know if I’d like Pamela working for me,” Zoe said, giving an affected shiver.

  “I know what you mean,” Lauren replied. “But she’s probably very efficient in the church office and keeps everything organized.”

  “As long as she doesn’t ever try to organize me,” Zoe muttered.

  Lauren knew Zoe disliked waiting on the older woman, but Lauren actually preferred waiting on Pamela to Ms. Tobin.

  Hans entered the café, causing Annie to trot importantly toward the door to greet him.

  “Can you help me find something, Annie?” He bent down toward the cat.

  “Brrp?” she asked.

  “My reading glasses – ach, I think I left them here.”

  Annie led him toward the counter.

  “Did you say you were looking for your glasses?” Zoe asked him.

  “Yes, I think I must have left them here on Friday.”

  “I didn’t notice anything when I closed up last week,” Lauren said. “Or since then.”

  “You haven’t been trying to read without them all weekend?” Zoe asked. “You could have come over to the cottage to ask us if the café was closed.”

  “You are very kind.” Hans smiled at them. “I only discovered this morning that they are missing when I went to the grocery store and needed them to read a label on a jar. You see, I have two pairs – one at home, and one in my coat pocket.” He patted his brown wool jacket. “But my glasses are not in here today. And I stayed at home on the weekend.”

  “So you must have left them somewhere on Friday,” Lauren surmised.

  “Ja. And your café is the last place I visited.” He bent down stiffly to the silver tabby. “Annie, we read the menu together, yes? I had my glasses on then. Do you know where they are now?”

  “Brrt.” Annie seemed to answer in the affirmative. She nudged Hans’ hand, then scampered to her pink bed on the corner shelf. Jumping into her bed, she turned and nosed around the fleece-lined base, then patted something with her paw.

  Lauren hurried over to the Norwegian Forest Cat.

  “What have you got there?” Under Annie’s paw was a black spectacle case.

  Lauren picked it up. “Are these yours, Hans?” She returned to the counter, Annie by her side.

  “Brrt!” the silver tabby said proudly.

  “Yes, they are mine,” Hans replied, opening the case and perching the glasses onto his nose. “Thank you, Annie.”

  “How did you carry them to your bed?” Lauren asked the cat. Surely her cat’s jaws weren’t big enough to carry the glass case.

  “Brrp,” Annie replied coyly.

  “I don’t think she’s telling.” Zoe laughed.

  “Thank you, Liebchen.” Hans stroked the cat.

  “She must have spotted them and put them in a safe place,” Lauren said.

  “Annie’s lost and found.” Hans beamed at the tabby.

  “Brrt!”

  WEDNESDAY’S LUNCH RUSH was busier than usual, and Lauren was glad Zoe had rescheduled her date for that evening. After Annie had returned Hans’ spectacles, they’d been slammed with customers.

  A few patrons expressed disappointment that Ed hadn’t created any pastry magic that day, although they seemed satisfied with Lauren’s cupcakes, or her chocolate swirl coffeecake with streusel topping.

  “Phew!” Zoe murmured once Lauren had locked up and turned the Open sign to Closed at five past five. “Today was amazing!”

  “Do you think I should ask Ed if he’d like to work an extra day?” Lauren asked as she helped Zoe with the last of the dishes.

  “Can you afford to?” her cousin asked.

  “Yes.” She’d been going over the sums in her head whenever she’d had a few seconds to herself that afternoon. “I don’t want our customers to be dissatisfied.”

  “But the people I served said your cupcakes were awesome,” Zoe encouraged her.

  “Really?”

  “Yes.” Zoe grinned. “But if Ed wants to work on Wednesdays, that would be good, too. Less dishes for me.”

  “Oh, you.” Lauren flicked a soap bubble at her. Although Ed’s domain was pastry making, he also helped with general kitchen duties when he had spare time.

  “Is there anything else to do?” Zoe turned serious as she drained the sink, a watery gurgle filling the air. “I’d like to get ready for my date soon.”

  “Of course.” Lauren shooed her toward the cottage.
“Go.”

  “Can you call me at 7.30 again?” Zoe asked. “Just in case he’s not what I’m expecting.”

  “No problem. Do you want to take my car?”

  Zoe started to shake her head, then hesitated. “Maybe I should.”

  CHAPTER 5

  At 7.30 p.m. that evening, Lauren phoned Zoe.

  “I wonder how her date is going,” she said to Annie. They sat on the blue sofa in the living room, the TV muted.

  “Brrp,” the silver tabby replied.

  Lauren wasn’t sure if that meant Annie actually knew with feline intuition that things were okay, or if the cat was wondering as well.

  Zoe picked up immediately.

  “Are you all right?” Lauren asked. “How’s it going?”

  “What’s that, Mom?” Zoe spoke. “Rudy’s sulking and needs me to come home right away? Okay. I’ll leave now.” She hung up.

  “What was that was about?” Lauren stared at Annie. “I hope she’s okay.”

  “Brrt.” Annie seemed to nod.

  Lauren didn’t have to wait long to find out. She heard her car stop outside, and then the slam of the front door. Zoe appeared in the doorway of the living room, spots of pink flaming her cheeks.

  “Are you okay?” Lauren rose.

  “I’m fine.” Zoe flopped dramatically in the matching armchair opposite the couch. “Thank goodness you called me.”

  “Brrt?” Annie asked. She sat on the sofa, her ears pricked, waiting to hear more.

  “He was eighteen!” Zoe placed her palm over her eyes.

  Lauren’s mouth parted but all she could manage was a feeble, “What?”

  “I know,” Zoe moaned. “That’s it! No more online dating. I mean it this time.”

  “What happened? He didn’t look eighteen in the photo you showed me.”

  “It was his brother’s,” Zoe replied miserably. “Apparently his brother doesn’t know he stole it. And get this – he said he was going to ditch school to meet me on our lunch date. I don’t want to contribute to the delinquency of am eighteen-year-old.” She jumped up and paced the room. “But you and good old Rudy saved the day. He asked who Rudy was and I told him he was a huge rottweiler with slavering jaws who was upset because I hadn’t taken him on the date. I left my share of the bill – we’d just received appetizers and I was counting the minutes until you called so I could leave with some kind of dignity. And,” Zoe continued, “he said he was into older women!”