“And that’s not all,” Kat said, eyes twinkling. “Petra also made a very large donation to the shelter in Jonesy’s name—very large. She said she plans to make a similar one each year, so now our budget can justify hiring a publicity director full time.” Her smile widened. “All you have to do is work your tail off to validate your position.”
“Oh my gosh,” I said blissfully. “I can do that.”
“Of course you can.” Kat reached out and patted my hand. “Just do me a favor, and promise me you will never put yourself in danger like that again.”
“Well, that should be easy.” I grinned at her. “I have no intention of finding any more dead bodies or chasing down any more murderers—at least not in the foreseeable future.”
Kat frowned. “What about the unforeseeable future?”
Thankfully, the doorbell rang just then. Kat made an exasperated noise and then got up to answer, returning a few seconds later with Will in tow. He held a bouquet of carnations and pansies—my favorite flowers—in his hand. He set it down on the coffee table and offered me a lopsided grin.
“Hey there, Sherlock. How are you feeling today?”
“Better. I’m sorry I was such a wuss and fainted.”
“Under the circumstances, I think we can forgive you,” he said with a chuckle. “Oh, and by the way, congrats. Kat tells me your job is permanent now.”
I shifted on the couch. “What happened to Natalie? Leila’s account doesn’t say much other than that the criminals were arrested.”
“We got her leaving Charley Potts’s house. She knocked the poor girl out and was going to take off in her pickup. She was going to cheat her out of everything too. We found the cashier’s check made out to Charlotte Potts in her bag.” He shook his head. “Of course she’s placing the blame on Murphy, and Murphy insists it was all Natalie’s idea. No honor among thieves with those two,” he chuckled.
“Yeah, well, the one I feel sorry for is Charley Potts. She’s rather an innocent victim.”
“Well, on some level she must have known that what she was doing was wrong. But we figure if we offer her immunity on a forgery charge in exchange for her testimony against those two, justice will have been served.”
“Thank goodness.” I leaned back against the pillows. “So did they explain why and how they did it?”
“Yep.” Will leaned back in the chair and laced his fingers behind his neck. “As you know, Natalie and Littleton were an item back in the day, but their love affair had run its course, and now their friendship was tenuous at best. Not the case with Natalie and Colin Murphy. Natalie recommended Colin to Bridge, half because she had a crush on him and half because she thought his knowledge of art might pay off one day.
“Natalie happened to go to the Chatsworth Studios one day looking for some artwork to sell in her shop, and she came across a sculpture that she was certain was a Kahn. She was shocked when the Martins told her that Aamira Lee had done it and immediately set about tracking the woman down. Once she did, she noticed that Charley wasn’t very well educated, so it was a simple matter for her to convince the girl to make what she called ‘commissioned copies.’ She showed her different photographs of Kahn pieces, and Charley duplicated them, right down to the signature. Once she had Charley nailed down, she went to Colin with her scheme. Colin was more than willing to go along with it, because he was having difficulties with Bridge. He saw his chance to make a break, make enough money to get a fresh start. They planned to sell as many sculptures and paperweights as they could at sky-high prices, take the money, and flee the country.”
“But Littleton found out about it,” I said. “The Ronnies said he was at their studio and saw the sculpture of the Indian woman—the same one that his gallery was touting as an exclusive.”
Will nodded. “That was the part Colin and Natalie hadn’t counted on. It didn’t take long for him to put two and two together, especially once he saw that paperweight. He’d remembered seeing the exact same one in Natalie’s office, so now he knew the two of ’em were in on it together. He was furious—he confronted Colin, told him that he would not have his gallery’s reputation ruined, and told him to get out. Natalie met him at the food court and tried to reason with him, but he was having none of it.”
“Ah, so it was Natalie Leila saw, not Grace.” I nodded. “I get that. They have similar builds, and their hair is the same color. At a distance, you could mistake one for the other, and Natalie does have a coral sweater similar to Grace’s.”
“Littleton gave Natalie thirty days to give up her lease and get out of Deer Park, or he was pressing charges. In the meantime, Colin had gotten nervous and searched Bridge’s office. He’d mentioned to Colin that he’d planned to leave him the gallery in his will, so when Colin saw the appointment calendar with his lawyer’s name on it, he figured out what Littleton planned to do. Colin panicked and called Natalie, who hit upon the plan to inject him with the poison. Years ago, she’d been a nurse’s aide. She made the plane reservation for Colin so that he’d have an airtight alibi, and she was pretty sure no one would suspect her—after all, she was about the only shopkeeper who didn’t have an issue with Littleton.”
“Which in itself should have raised a red flag,” I remarked. “And it’s true—who would ever have suspected Natalie? She’s so innocent looking.”
“Yeah, like Lucretia Borgia. She snuck up behind him and jabbed him in the neck, then pushed him inside and slammed the door . . . She knew the dose she’d given him would act quickly and he’d be unable to get out and call for help. Colin had told her where the diary was, but when she went to get it, she found out that Littleton had moved it. She found it, though, and left only minutes before you and Kat came in.”
“Thank God we missed her.” I suppressed a shudder. “Well . . . all’s well that ends well, I guess.” I cocked my head at him. “One thing puzzles me. I know you said you got my message, but how did you know my exact location?”
His lips curved upward. “You still had your phone on, and you’ve got GPS on it.”
“I owe Leila for that. She suggested I get it.”
Will’s hand folded over mine. “You were lucky, though, Syd.”
“How so?”
“Ow-owrr.”
Toby made a flying leap from the floor onto my lap. I petted him and grinned at Will. “Luck in feline form. It was really quite a sight, Toby dropping right down on Murphy like that. If he hadn’t . . .”
Will reached out to stroke the cat’s head as well. “If he hadn’t . . . well, let’s not think about that.”
“You’re right. I should be thinking of something much more pleasant, like our next cat café event.” I shot him a teasing glance. “Are you interested? Cats make wonderful companions, and they’re great low-maintenance pets for working people.”
“I’ll think about it. In the meantime . . .” He leaned in a little closer. “There’s a little matter we need to resolve.”
I widened my eyes. “There is?”
“Yep. Kat’s officially off the hook for Littleton’s murder. You do remember what you promised me if I got her off, right?”
“I remember. Technically, though, you didn’t get Kat off. I did.”
“We can debate that point over a dinner at Ferrulli’s,” he said softly. “With a nice merlot thrown in for good measure.”
I lowered my lashes. “I think that could be arranged. When exactly would you want to do this?”
He moved in closer to me, so close I could smell the tangy scent of his aftershave. “I think as soon as possible. I don’t trust you, Syd McCall. Now I’ll never admit this—and especially not to Hank—but truth be told, you’re not a half bad sleuth.”
I goggled at him. “What? You’re actually complimenting me? I’m flattered.”
“You should be. Besides, if we wait much longer to go out and start getting reacquainted, you’ll undoubtedly get yourself tangled up in another murder—and I’ll have to rescue you again. So—what do you
say? I’m off tonight. I can pick you up at six. Literally. I can carry you to my car.”
“Not necessary,” I laughed. “I have a cane that Kat got me.”
“Perfect.” A brief silence stretched between us. “And?” he finally prompted.
I made the sign of the cross over my chest. “I’ll make the same promise to you that I did to Kat. No more investigating.”
He eyed me. “You forget, I know all your tricks. You’ve got the toes on your good foot crossed, haven’t you?”
“Have not.” As I said the words, Toby let out a loud merow.
Will started to laugh. “Even that cat knows you’re lying.”
I shot Toby a look. “Squealer!” I turned back to Will and held up both hands. “Fine. I promise—no more sleuthing, at least not until my ankle’s healed. Satisfied?”
“I guess I’ll have to be—for now,” he murmured. For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me, but he straightened, rose, and cleared his throat. “Until later, then.”
“Until later.”
After Will had let himself out, I lay back against the couch cushions. Toby jumped up onto my lap and lay looking at me, his green eyes wide. I stroked his head and sighed.
“I’m not sure where things might go with Will,” I told the cat. “But one thing I do know. If—or when—he tries to kiss me, I’m going to let him. And . . . I might even kiss him back. What do you say to that?”
Toby looked at me for a long moment, then laid his head down on my lap and started to purr.
I chuckled and rubbed the top of his head. “I thought you might agree.”
Acknowledgments
Thanks as always to my wonderful agent, Josh Getzler, who puts up with my e-mails and whining on a consistent basis! Thanks also to his lovely assistant, Danielle Burby, who gave me the idea for a story featuring a cat café at BEA two years ago! I would also like to thank my editor at Crooked Lane, Matt Martz, for his inspiration to center the series around a shelter, and also the editorial staff at Crooked Lane! They are amazing!
I want to thank all the writers who have appeared on ROCCO’s blog for their friendship and support, and a special thanks to Liz Taranda at the Clifton Animal Shelter!
I would also like to thank all of my loyal readers who have followed my Nick and Nora series, and I hope that you enjoy this one! I wouldn’t be here without you!
And a special PS to my buddy Cathy Collette: hardcover! Woo-hoo!
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