The Extortion Cat-astrophe: A Beatrice Young Cozy Cat Mystery (Beatrice Young Cozy Cat Mysteries Book 2)

by Alannah Rogers

  The sheriff thanked him and they mounted the stairway to the aforementioned unit. The woman who opened the door, a talkative lady with brassy blonde hair, invited them in immediately.

  “Boy, do I have an axe to grind with Leah Moore,” she said as she ushered them to sit on her faded floral couches. “That woman used to be my best friend in high school. We did everything together. But she turned out bad.”

  “How so?” the sheriff asked, sinking far into the cushions. The cats sniffed around the apartment relentlessly.

  “She used to borrow money from me she’d never pay back. Said her ex-husband was tight fisted as anything, never gave her money to spend on their kid. I never liked him. And look what happened—in jail! I saw that coming.”

  “So Leah had money problems?” Beatrice asked.

  “Sure did. She worked part-time at the dollar store downtown but she didn’t make a lot. Tony was dealing drugs, of course. He always had new toys – nice cars, flashy clothes, hunting and fishing trips with his buddies. Leah had to count every penny to pay the bills, buy food, and take care of all the other necessities. He sure was tight-fisted. No wonder she left him. I guess once he was put in the slammer she figured it was safe to come back.”

  The sheriff folded his hands. “Has she been in touch with his mother or brother, Rick?”

  Ada shrugged and lit a cigarette, her long, fake peach nails highlighted against coarse hands. “Not sure. Don’t think so. She had just as big a beef with them. From what I heard, Tony was giving them money instead of her. I doubt they’d be in touch.”

  “Ma’am, this is really important. Leah is under suspicion for extortion and property damage. Do you have any idea where I can find her?”

  “With her new boyfriend, of course.” Ada blew out a perfect ring of smoke. “He’s got a camp just out of town on Williams Road. Number 145, if I remember correctly. You go there, be careful. That boyfriend of hers is a real mean snake and they have pit bulls. Three of them.”

  17

  Williams Road was a go-nowhere county road that snaked through dense spruce amid the mountains. The few higgledy-piggledy houses along it were trailers or tiny cabins.

  Beatrice had never driven along this road, though she promised herself she would again—if she survived the day. The twist and turns revealed expansive views of crimson sugar maples and deep blue streams filled with whitecaps from the many rapids.

  Not that she had a lot of time to look at the view. Without the help of the cat carrier, Lucky was an emotional mess. He kept yowling and pulling at his leash, probably aware of the great heights they were ascending. Hamish eventually got so frustrated that he swatted him right in the face, which set the black cat cowering on Beatrice’s lap.

  “Now what I want to know is, if Leah Moore making money off of Nate, what’s she doing living all the way out here in some shack?” Beatrice said.

  They turned off at number 145, with the deputy behind them as back up. After a couple of minutes crawling along the rutted dirt road they got their answer.

  “Oh,” the sheriff said as they parked in front of a structure that used to be a trailer and had been lavishly expanded with various extensions and outbuildings. “Well, at least you can see now where your money’s been going, Nate.”

  Nathan didn’t look pleased. His face was pinched and worried. Just then the sound of barking erupted as three pit bulls ran out of the forest, gnashing their teeth and salivating, fury in their eyes.

  “Anyone have a plan to deal with this?” Matthew asked.

  Hamish immediately threw himself at the window and began to claw at it wildly while hissing as if his life depended on it. He then looked pointedly over his shoulder at Lucky, who was still huddled on Beatrice’s lap. The black cat got up reluctantly, positioned himself at the window, and began hissing, his tail inflated to twice its normal size.

  The pit bulls drew back from the car, uncertainty in their eyes. Unexpectedly, the sheriff got out of the car, large umbrella in hand, and the deputy followed him.

  Hamish threw himself out of the car before Beatrice could snatch him. He went right up into the dogs’ faces, puffed himself up like a blowfish, and began hissing and growling in a way that made him sound more like a little bear than a cat. He swatted the nose of the middle pit bull, drawing blood.

  Beatrice grasped Matthew’s arm. “I have to get him! Hammy’s going to get killed out there.”

  As Hamish stalked the retreating dogs, Matthew chuckled. “I don’t think so. That big Maine Coon has the situation firmly under control.”

  Once the dogs were out of the way, the sheriff and deputy marched towards the main door. They never made it all the way, though—gunshots rang through the air. The two men flattened themselves on the ground and motioned for the rest of them to do the same. Matthew leapt into the back and pulled Beatrice down onto the seat. Nathan trembled on the floor.

  “Not another gunfight,” Matthew grumbled. “I thought I’d seen my last one.”

  “I’m sorry,” Beatrice whispered. “I really should get back into investigating lost cats and dogs again, shouldn’t I?”

  “I’m the one who should be sorry,” Nathan said, his voice shaking. “I got you all into this mess.”

  “I’ll put it this way—buy us a round the next time we’re at Johnny’s Place and I’ll call it even, okay?” Matthew replied, trying to put his friend as ease.

  More gunfire rang through the air. Beatrice peeked up hesitantly. The sheriff was flattened behind one of Leah’s cars along with the deputy. They fired back sporadically but it was hard to pinpoint the source of the shots.

  “We can’t just stay here,” Beatrice said. “They need us.”

  Nathan looked at them both for a moment and then pulled a handgun out of his bag. His two friends stared at him in shock.

  “Years living in fear makes a man desperate,” he said, shrugging. “I wasn’t sure a baseball bat would cut the mustard anymore.”

  “Do you know how to use it?” Matthew asked.

  Nathan looked at the gun for a moment. “Sort of. I guess now’s the time to try it out.”

  He crept out of the car, then turned around and asked in a low shaky voice: “What do I do?”

  “Go around the back,” Beatrice said. “That’s what they do in the movies. Surprise them.”

  He considered that. “Do you think your cat will come with me?”

  “Hammy is not a bodyguard,” Beatrice snapped back. But Nathan was already gone and from what she could see, Hamish was trotting after him. Even worse, Lucky had leapt out after Nathan. Beatrice felt like her heart was going to fall into her stomach.

  “Matt, I can’t watch this,” she said, covering her eyes. “I am such a bad cat mom right now.”

  Matthew drew his arm around her. “It’s okay, Bee. Those cats are too smart to get themselves in any trouble. Just hold on a moment.”

  Well, it was a long moment. Gunshots rang out and Beatrice peeked up to see Sheriff Roy kicking down the front door. There were sounds of high-pitched yowling, swearing, a woman screaming, and then, perhaps worst of all, deafening silence.

  Beatrice couldn’t take the suspense any longer. She flung open the door and ran helter-skelter towards the house. What she saw inside shocked her. Several of the windows in the dim kitchen had bullet holes, the table and chairs were all knocked over, and what appeared to be Leah and a tattooed man were sitting on the floor.

  Nathan was standing next to them, feet planted apart, with the gun pointed squarely at the pair. For once he hadn’t broken out into a sweat. Hamish and Lucky stood on either side of him looking fierce.

  As soon as Leah spotted Beatrice she started swearing a blue streak, shaking her finger at her and threatening everything from death to bankruptcy to kidnapping and skinning her cats. Beatrice merely crossed her arms and stared down at her.

  “Quit your cussing,” she cut in. “You have nothing to say to me and everything to say to my friend Nate here. We know you�
�ve been extorting him!”

  “Well why not?” yelled the infuriated woman, her pale face in sharp contrast to her purple-black hair. “He has plenty of money to go around. For years Tony squeezed him and never gave a drop to me. My son and I couldn’t even buy toothpaste we were so poor. That man is just giving us what we’re owed.”

  “Except that it’s illegal to intimidate and threaten people. And then destroy their property if they don’t go along with your wishes,” the sheriff said. “From what I’ve heard, Nate was more than generous with your Tony. The man works hard for his money and you have no right to pinch him. Now you’re coming with us, Leah, and you too, other guy.”

  “Name’s Ron and I got nothing to do with all this,” he blustered, standing up.

  “Hey thanks!” Leah said, scowling at him. “Cut me loose when it suits you, huh?”

  “The minute you started firing shots at us you involved yourself in this situation,” Sheriff Roy said, putting first the man, then Leah, in cuffs. “Off we go. You’ve got a date with lock-up.”

  18

  “I’m so glad to finally be home,” Beatrice said, as she turned on the lights in the living room. The rustic chandeliers illuminated the cavernous space cozily.

  “I’m glad to be back in your home,” Nathan said behind her.

  “Nate, you’re staying here until we get a proper security system installed on your house. Just in case any of Leah’s sisters, parents, children, or casual acquaintances get the idea to go shaking you down for cash.”

  Nathan grinned. “Okay by me. You’ve got a nice place here.”

  “She’s always got a full fridge, too,” Matthew said from the kitchen. “You two hungry? I could whip us up a little something.”

  Beatrice collapsed on the couch and put her feet up on the rustic wood coffee table. “Heavens yes. I’m starving.”

  Which is how the three of them ended up devouring grilled cheese sandwiches at the breakfast bar. The cats chowed down beside them and then promptly disappeared. They looked completely tuckered out.

  “I want to thank you guys so much for everything you did for me,” Nathan said after wiping ketchup off his lips. “There are no better friends out there.”

  Beatrice grimaced. “I don’t know, Nate. I feel like I just made everything worse.”

  He shook his head vigorously. “No way. You guys took my problem seriously, got me the help I needed, and stood by me one hundred percent. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

  “Tell me: why are we not clinking glasses to celebrate?” Matthew said. “This seems like the right moment for alcohol.”

  Beatrice took a bottle of Beaujolais out of storage and poured it into three wine glasses. “To friendship!” she said, sneaking a little look at Matthew out of the corner of her eye.

  He smiled back at her warmly. “To friendship.”

  They toasted one another, consumed the rest of the sandwiches, and drank enough wine to send them all into a near coma. Nathan headed up to bed first. Beatrice found the two cats both on the window seat off the living room, eyeing each other as if considering a ceasefire.

  She kissed and patted them both soundly, relieved that they were both in one piece. “Don’t you ever do something so crazy again!” she told both of them. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

  Matthew sat down on the window seat, flushed from the wine. “Bee, those cats know how to take care of themselves. Don’t you worry.”

  She sighed and sat across from him, the cats between their legs. “Worrying is my favorite hobby after sleuthing,” she joked. “What would I do without it?”

  Matthew chuckled. “By the way, I wanted to thank you for helping out Nate. I mean, he’s always been closer to me but you went out of your way to help him. I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

  Beatrice looked him up and down. “Who is this Matthew? This nice Matthew?”

  “This is wine Matthew,” he replied, laughing. “Wine Matthew says thank you.”

  “I should get you drunk more often.”

  “Be my guest. But seriously Bee, you really put yourself on the line for him.”

  Beatrice shrugged and studied her hands. Compliments always made her feel weird. “Matt, a friend of yours is a friend of mine. I’d like to think you’d do the same for Zoe, for example.”

  “I just hope she doesn’t get mixed up with gun-toting extortionists.”

  “No chance of that. It’s only her loser boyfriend we have to worry about.”

  Matthew snorted, stretched his legs, and groaned contentedly. “You ever think of dating again, Bee?” he asked, looking directly into her eyes.

  “Um.” This was not the question she was expecting. “No. Not really. I mean, I don’t feel I have anything lacking in my life. So why would I?”

  Hamish stuck up his head. The fur was rumpled at his ruff and his golden eyes blinked at her sleepily. “Maw!” he declared forcefully.

  Beatrice laughed. “Plus I don’t think the Hammy and Lucky are ready to share me. Are you, Ham?” She reached over to stroke his silky head and he began to purr contentedly.

  Yet as Beatrice lay in the dark later, alone in her cushy Queen size bed, she began to wonder if there was something wrong with her. Should she want to date? Was she afraid of something? But as she had told Matthew, she didn’t feel incomplete.

  Beatrice’s motto had always been: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

  And that’s exactly how she felt about her life.

  19

  The scent of maple-pumpkin pie filled the air the following morning at the Cozy Cat Café. Customers came in through the old wooden door—noses lifted, eyes bright—as they followed the delicious smell to its source.

  Beatrice was busy reorganizing the paperback books that lined the exposed brick walls. People continually thwarted her attempts at alphabetization but she didn’t really mind. She found it calming to reorder her beloved mysteries, romances, and historical fiction—her favorite genres.

  In fact, she was enjoying every minute of her day so far, from paying supplier invoices to updating the café’s Facebook page and Twitter stream to sweeping the rough, wide floor planks. While she enjoyed solving her mysteries, it was a relief to be able to completely focus on the café again.

  The cats seemed content too. Hamish was busy stalking the premises and receiving pats and compliments from all the patrons. Lucky was chasing beams of sunshine that flickered over the floor. All of the craziness of the previous day seemed completely lost on them.

  Yet, something kept niggling at her. The sheriff. She still felt uneasy at the idea that he was angry with her. Beatrice had never minded conflict overmuch but she didn’t like unfinished business.

  She went into the kitchen to seek out Zoe. The gangly girl was in her chef whites with her dark hair tied up under a hairnet, operating the industrial mixer they used for dough. She dumped Pyrex measuring cups filled with dark chocolate chunks and dried cherries into metal basin and let the mixer do its magic. It was for their tried and true cookie recipe.

  “Hey, it’s the town hero,” Zoe joked. “Everyone’s talking about how you took down some bad-ass ninja woman with your bare hands yesterday.”

  “What?” Beatrice wrapped her long white knit cardigan closer around her. “How can anyone possibly know?”

  Zoe pointed with a floury hand towards the newspaper sitting on a corner table. Beatrice snatched it up and put on her reading glasses. The front-page headline read: Extortionist Nabbed By Local Sleuth Lady and Cats.

  “Sleuth lady?” she sputtered. “Who wrote this piece of trash? Oh, Brent. That little muckraker. I can’t even imagine who his source was.”

  She tossed the paper down. “You know what? I’m not even that mad about being in the paper. What worries me is how Jake will react.”

  Zoe began transferring batter onto a greased tray with a spoon. “The sheriff? He’s still mad at you?”

  “Not sure. He was happy enough to make the arr
est yesterday. Still, I think he’s feeling betrayed. I kept the case from him on purpose. That’s a big breach of trust.” Beatrice twisted a long piece gray of hair absently around her finger. “I should go see him.”

  Zoe nodded. “Definitely. And you know what? Bring him a lot of food. I know he’s a sucker for your cooking.”

  “You got it. Say, what’s up with Hunter?”

  The slight pastry chef’s shoulders hunched forward protectively. “Okay, promise you won’t get mad?”

  “Oh no, what happened?”

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “He’s moving in to my place. It’s just a trial run. I like him, Bee. And I’m tired of being alone. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. But you know, I really hope it does.”

  Her boss took a deep breath. “I have to work on being happy for you, don’t I?”

  “You have to at least try or I’m not going to let you take that entire pumpkin-maple pie to the sheriff. And then he’ll never forgive you.”

  Beatrice put up her hands. “Point taken.”

  “And don’t bring the cats either. You know how he gets about those cats.”

  Less than half an hour later she strode into Sheriff Roy’s dingy office, bags balanced in both hands. The sheriff was pecking at his computer, his expression angry—as it usually was whenever he tackled anything involving technology. He turned in her direction as she came in but his expression didn’t become any less severe.

  “Yes?” he said curtly.

  “Lunch delivery.” She took containers out of her bags and the heavenly smell of butter, cream, and maple filled the room.

  The sheriff began to sniff so hard that his moustache twitched. “That isn’t fish chowder, is it?”

  “In a bread bowl. Made this morning with the finest cream, potatoes, onions, and cod. And a maple-pumpkin pie for you and the missus to enjoy with dinner tonight.”

  The sheriff opened the container with the chowder and began to dig in eagerly.