Nozy Cat 1

by Lyn Key

  We felines see things from a different point of view than you humans do.

  “Nozy Cat is right because some good mojo will come our way,” Peggy Sue said.

  Hope smiled at them. “Thanks for the pep talk. I’ll pull out of my blues and find the grit to stick it out with you.”

  Look there ahead of us at some good mojo that has just come our way. Cammie pulled into the mini-mart gas station. It’s the perfect setup. Peggy Sue can talk to her about Hugo’s murder while she’s pumping our gas.

  Chapter 18

  Habib’s Mini-Mart Gas Station was one of the nicer ones found on the bypass. The young lady clerk glued to her smart phone also kept a wary eye on the surveillance camera monitors set up behind the counter. Her edgy glances taken out the glass front suggested she might be a newbie on the night job. Hope wondered if the fearful clerk had her girlfriend or husband on the line for getting moral support.

  Peggy Sue and Cammie met by the nearest self-service island, one car parked behind the other. She made a mock grimace as she picked up her heavy denim drawstring handbag to dig out her credit card and use it to pay at the gas pump.

  “I’ve got everything but the kitchen sink in my handbag,” Cammie said. “You never know what you might need while you’re away from home.”

  “My handbag is the same way,” Peggy Sue said. “One rainy day I’m going to empty it out and go through all the items for discarding.”

  They began refueling at the gas pumps and went on chatting while they waited for their gas tanks to fill up. Hope sat in the front seat petting Nozy Cat while they kept an eye out the windshield on the proceedings.

  “What are you ladies doing out tonight?” Cammie asked. “Are you working the late shift like I am, or just night owls driving around to take in the local scene?”

  Peggy Sue chuckled before she fibbed. “Well, Hope got one of her yens for a cup of joe better than our home brew coffee, so we’re hunting for a good place. Do you have any favorites to recommend?”

  “The new Cordelia’s Expresso satisfies my java cravings. They charge a little more, but it’s well worth the money I spend on the pour.”

  “Cordelia’s Expresso will be our next destination. When we visited you, didn’t you tell us something about new denim jeans with minor flaws the plant sells at a steep discount?”

  Cammie smiled with a nod. “Not only that but it’s how I buy all my denim jeans now. You should see my walk-in closet. I’ve packed the shelves to the gills with the neatest ones. Are you looking for some dressy summer jeans?”

  “They’re our daily outfit working at the bookshop. Do you have anything stylish that comes in my plus size?”

  “We make everything the popular clothes brands offer. What are you after?”

  “Do you have any denim jeans in colors besides the standard blue?” Peggy Sue asked.

  “Our colored denims include all the bold shades. So, if you’re dying to upgrade your wardrobe by purchasing a pair of cranberry red or grape purple jeans, I’m the lady you should see.”

  “I was thinking more conservatively with heather gray or olive green since I’m not a spring chicken anymore, and I don’t like to dress up and pretend like I am.”

  “We’ve also got those colors but don’t be afraid of trying the bright shades. If you have the time, swing on by the plant later on, and I’ll be glad to show you the exciting hues I have in mind.”

  “Thanks, Cammie. I’ll talk to Hope about it. Give me your smart phone number.”

  “We get lousy reception inside the plant, but I’ll be taking my work breaks outside in the parking lot.”

  “We’ll hook up with you then. Thanks again.”

  “No worries. Is Hope still getting over her attack of nerves from finding Hugo dead in your bookshop?”

  “She’s over it probably as much as you are from the shock of hearing about it.”

  “Shock is an understatement. I like to have fainted when Sergeant Trogg told me the news. I hope he catches whoever did it for Mrs. Spangler’s sake.”

  “She deserves to see the police arrest and punish her son’s killer.”

  “Even though Hugo broke up with me, I have a lot of respect for Mrs. Spangler.”

  “I would’ve been ticked off if Hugo had given me the heave-ho like he did you. It was a shabby way to treat you after all the thick and thin you’d been through with him.”

  “Yeah, I was pretty angry at him, but I’m over it now.”

  “Did you get a voodoo doll and stick pins into it?” Peggy Sue laughed. “I did that with one of my no-account old boyfriends who shall remain nameless when I was in high school.”

  “Really? I heard you and Travis were high school sweethearts.”

  “Travis Roswell wasn’t my first love. I’d been wronged and hurt before I knew him.”

  “Aren’t some men truly pigs?” Cammie laughed.

  Peggy Sue also laughed.

  “I’d love nothing better than to stay and talk with you some more. But I have to get to my job.”

  “You have a nice evening, Cammie. We have to pick ourselves up and carry on after life knocks us down like it did to you.”

  “No truer words have ever been spoken. But guess what?” Cammie had a broad smile as her voice sounded excited. “I already have a date for Saturday night. I’m sick and tired of doing the bar scene, so I went to an online dating site where I met him, and we’ve shared a few laughs over the phone.”

  “Do I know him?”

  “His name is Bill Slade from Rixeyville. He doesn’t drink or smoke. Better yet, check this part out: he’s never been married and pays no child support.”

  Peggy Sue nodded. “Bill sounds like a plum catch.”

  “I hope so. He makes good money as a plumber. We’re going line dancing at Tuckers Steak House and Saloon. After that, we’ll just have to wait and see what happens next.”

  “Then I say the best of luck to you and Bill,” Peggy Sue said.

  “Thanks,” Cammie said.

  After Cammie left them with a friendly horn toot, Peggy Sue finished her job at the gas pump and climbed into the car seat next to Hope and Nozy Cat.

  “Cammie had a lot on her mind,” Hope said.

  Peggy Sue put aside her handbag and cleaned off her hands with a disposable wet towelette. “She sure loves to gab when she gets wound up.”

  “Is she still angry over Hugo breaking up with her?” Hope asked.

  “Cammie is excited about a big date she has Saturday night to go line dancing with a fellow named Bill Slade from Rixeyville,” Peggy Sue replied. “Does she strike you as a woman who nursed a grudge against her ex-boyfriend and then killed him?”

  “I’m reluctant to admit it doesn’t,” Hope replied. “She might be lying about her Saturday night date.”

  “If she is telling me a story, then I have to credit her with a vivid imagination,” Peggy Sue said. “I believe her.”

  “Then what does your gut tell you? Is she guilty or innocent of Hugo’s murder?” Hope asked.

  “I just don’t know enough to make that call,” Peggy Sue replied.

  So, we don’t know anymore than we did before Peggy Sue spoke to Cammie at the gas pumps.

  “Did you expect she’d come clean, break down sobbing, and confess she’s Hugo’s killer for our benefit?” Hope asked.

  You have to admit it would’ve made our work a lot easier tonight.

  “Where did she go from here?” Hope asked.

  “She’s off to work her late shift at the denim jeans plant,” Peggy Sue replied. “She invited us to stop by it sometime. Can you use any new denim jeans?”

  “I can always make space for adding a new pair of jeans. How much is the discount her employer offers on the rejects?” Hope asked.

  “She didn’t say but she acted like it was at least fifty percent off the retail price,” Peggy Sue replied. “What’s next for us? Go home?”

  “I prefer to keep pushing ahead as far as we can go tonight,”
Hope said. “Tomorrow I want to put in a full day working at the bookshop. Time is money, and our time away from the bookshop is losing the money we need to earn.”

  “Then we’ll have to make a coffee pitstop before we do anything else,” Peggy Sue said. “I need the caffeine jolt to stay awake. I’m talking about the strong stuff served in a big mug and not in a dainty china cup sipped with the pinkie finger extended in the air.”

  “Will the potent brew served at the new Cordelia’s Expresso work?” Hope asked.

  Peggy Sue nodded once. “Cammie also recommended it to us.”

  Nozy Cat gave a low whistle of amazement, not an easy gesture for a cat to make. You’d better go easy on drinking the espresso coffee, or you’ll be so wired you won’t be able to sleep for three nights.

  “It might conceivably take us that long to wind up solving this case at the rate we’re going,” Hope said. After they arrived at Cordelia’s Expresso, Michael Bublé sang out again. “That’s Stace. She’s supposed to be in bed fast asleep since she’s got school tomorrow, so I’ll take this call.”

  “Where are you right now, Mom?” Stacey asked.

  “Peggy Sue and I just pulled into Cordelia’s Expresso for getting her coffee fix,” Hope replied.

  “Isn’t their coffee on the strong side?” Stacey asked.

  “She’ll be sure to consume it in moderation. Why aren’t you in bed, young lady?”

  “How can I get any sleep? I’m sitting up worried out of my mind about you.”

  “We’re going to be fine. Check to make sure the doors are deadbolted, and the windows are latched. Then go straight to bed and quit your fretting. I’ll be home in a jiff. Love you. Bye for now.”

  “Stace is justifiably worried about you,” Peggy Sue said.

  “Please don’t start in with me,” Hope said. “I’m already on enough of a mother’s guilt trip as it is.”

  “Let’s get some coffee,” Peggy Sue said.

  Hope liked the relaxing, inviting atmosphere found at Cordelia’s Expresso from the first step she took through the door. It earned bonus points for admitting pets. A breezy jazz tune (Hope didn’t recognize the saxophonist) enlivened the cozy space filled with the intoxicating, rich scent of roasted coffee beans. The décor featuring birch paneled walls, antique furniture, and white mug cups fit her idea of how a coffeehouse should appear.

  Peggy Sue ordered a double shot of espresso served with a twist of lemon on the side while Hope selected a bottle of sparkling mineral water. Nozy Cat requested a double latté but got Hope’s scowl as her warning for him to cool it. The smiling but not chatty barista charged reasonable prices for her efficient service. They tipped her accordingly and relaxed in the comfortable wire-back chairs for taking their five-minute break.

  Peggy Sue wiped her lips off on a napkin. “Ah, their coffee really does hit the right spot.”

  Hope used her smart phone and took advantage of the free WiFi. “Bill Slade does indeed live in Rixeyville,” she said. “He’s also a plumber, I see.”

  “So, Cammie didn’t just make up her Saturday night date,” Peggy Sue said.

  Hope nodded as she petted Nozy Cat. “I’m not sure with all the excitement going on that I turned out the bookshop’s lights, and the electricity to run them all night isn’t free.”

  Chapter 19

  They traveled next to the well-illuminated bookshop. Everything looked as they’d left it. Hope still wasn’t happy and said they should dust and straighten up the books since they were there anyway. Peggy Sue put her foot down and said nothing except a four-alarm blaze should further detain them. Nozy Cat, playing the peacemaker, cut in.

  We’re supposed to be following the trail of the killer tonight. As much as I love Hope’s idea to hang out at the bookshop, I fear it’s not going to help us achieve our first goal.

  “You’re right,” Hope said.

  “We shelved a reference book on murder and poisons in the mystery section,” Peggy Sue said. “I recently borrowed it, took it home, and read it from cover to cover.”

  “While educational, it’s not my first choice for light bedtime reading with a glass of milk and a saucer of chocolate chip cookies,” Hope said.

  “I learned everything I ever wanted to know about murder and poisons,” Peggy Sue said. “Then I marked up the book an extra dollar, positive we could nab that much for it.”

  “Yesterday I sold it at your full asking price to a sweet old church lady,” Hope said.

  “That’s an odd book selection for a sweet old church lady to make,” Peggy Sue said. “Is she married, by chance?”

  “She politely informed me she’s a widow thrice over,” Hope replied.

  “Might the reference book on murder and poisons she bought offer us an insight into why?” Peggy Sue asked.

  “Our policy is the Brontë Bookshop only sells the books,” Hope replied. “What our customers choose to do with them is their personal business. We’re not responsible once they walk out the door with their reading treasures in hand.”

  Nozy Cat the nearest to the glass front door observed a new development.

  You may not believe this, but Sergeant Trogg just pulled up on Main Street. He’s gotten out and is heading straight this way.

  Peggy Sue groaned. “Oh, no.”

  “Right when you figure things can’t possibly get any worse, something like this comes up, and they do,” Hope said. “He must’ve been passing by on Main Street and spotted us with the lights turned on in here.”

  “Can you tell if he’s taken out his Miranda card and handcuffs?” Peggy Sue asked.

  My night vision detects no visible Miranda card or handcuffs, so I don’t think he’s stopped to make any arrests. Just the same, let’s watch our step.

  Sergeant Trogg opened the door and waltzed into the Brontë Bookshop. The trademark scent of his peppermint lozenge was pungent. Nozy Cat, sneezing, retreated down the countertop to put some distance between him and the source of the smell. If Sergeant Trogg noticed, he didn’t say anything.

  “Who do I find here while I’m out making my night patrol?” he asked.

  “You discovered us working in our place of business,” Hope replied. “That’s hardly a big surprise.”

  “The hour is late to work at the bookshop,” Sergeant Trogg said. “Do the town insomniacs drop by for buying a copy of War and Peace or Moby Dick from you?”

  What if they do? Are we breaking a law, or is this late night police harassment?

  “Did you stop by to see us for a specific reason or just to give us a hard time?” Hope asked.

  “I thought you’d be interested in hearing the preliminary autopsy results on Hugo Spangler’s cause of death,” Sergeant Trogg replied.

  He was fatally poisoned. We already developed that information about the case on our own.

  “The killer poisoned Hugo,” Sergeant Trogg said. “Does it surprise you to hear that fact?”

  “We sussed it out earlier tonight,” Hope replied. “Which poison did his killer decide to use?”

  “If you’re such brainy private eyes, you should’ve figured out that part, too,” Sergeant Trogg replied.

  “Thanks for thinking to give us the update,” Hope said. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be getting back to our jobs.”

  “Foul play took place.” He used his gnarly finger to tap the side of his beaky nose. “The nose always knows, and it never lets me down. We veteran cops have the instinct to sniff out who’s guilty of committing murder.”

  “Has your trusty nose picked up the scent of our having broken a law?” Hope asked.

  “Not yet,” Sergeant Trogg replied. “I’m sticking with my blackmail theory for supplying you with the motive to murder Hugo.”

  “It’d be nothing short of stupid for us to bump off Hugo, stow his dead body inside our bookshop, and then contact you about it,” Hope said.

  “Dumb crooks do even dumber things to incriminate themselves all the time,” Sergeant Trogg said.
<
br />   “Give us a little more credit,” Hope said. “We’re hardly that dumb.”

  “Maybe you lured Hugo here to poison him, say, with the offer of a cup of coffee,” Sergeant Trogg said. “It was after hours, and you wanted him to do an odd job for you. Then you didn’t have the time to move his dead body before you had to open up the bookshop. Maybe you gambled on the chance you wouldn’t look as suspicious if you reported discovering his dead body to the police.”

  “Your maybe this and maybe that don’t make it true,” Hope said.

  Nozy Cat had the chutzpah to yawn in front of Sergeant Trogg who narrowed his eyes on him.

  “Your blue-eyed cat still gives me the heebie jeebies,” Sergeant Trogg said. “I’ve alerted Animal Control to keep an eye out for him. If he runs away from you, let’s just leave it I’ll have one less problem.”

  “Nozy Cat is an ordinary, run-of-the-mill tomcat,” Hope said, managing to keep a straight face. “He never leaves the bookshop or my house.”

  Ask him if he worked the night patrol two nights ago when the killer got Hugo Spangler.

  “Were you on duty two nights ago when the murder occurred?” Hope asked.

  “What if I was on duty then?” Sergeant Trogg asked. “I can’t be everywhere at the same time to keep Sweet Springs safe.”

  Ask him how many times he goes by the bookshop while on his night patrol.

  “How often do you drive past the bookshop while making your nocturnal police rounds?” Hope asked.

  “Nothing I observed on Main Street aroused my suspicion on the night Hugo was murdered,” Sergeant Trogg replied.

  “Have you got any other business with us?” Hope asked.

  “I’ll be back with more of my questions,” Sergeant Trogg replied.

  He exited the bookshop and left to protect and serve the fair citizenry of Sweet Springs.

  Sergeant Trogg is not one of my favorite people.

  “To be fair, I have to begrudgingly give him credit for being so persistent,” Hope said. “Perhaps I misjudged him, and he’s not so bad if you can learn to get along with his crusty personality.”

  “I’d love to agree with you about that,” Peggy Sue said.