“Okay. But I want to see my cat first. Where is he?”
“He’s in the bathroom in the tub. Seems to be hiding out in there.”
“Probably scared out of his mind.”
“Might be,” the sheriff said. “Or whoever broke in might have put him in there for safe keeping.”
Charlotte huffed out a breath. “If you expect me to thank the burglars for their consideration, you’re wrong.”
Walker came up alongside Charlotte, but said nothing. Which she appreciated. She wasn’t in the mood to be disagreed with.
The sheriff glanced at him, then back at Charlotte. “We’ll head toward your cat then. See if maybe you can put him in a carrier or something, get him somewhere he’ll be out of harm’s way. Unless your landlord can get this lock fixed today, you’re going to need to find another place to stay for a day or two.”
Charlotte mulled that over. “I don’t really have anywhere else to go. All of my friends have family in town for the Festival. Except for Sarah, who’s allergic to cats, and Melody, who has a Great Dane. Not sure Edgar Allan is in any frame of mind to room with a dog the size of a donkey.”
The sheriff made a face. “I’d say get a hotel room, but the town’s booked up with tourists in for the Festival, too.”
Walker put his hand on Charlotte’s arm. “You and Edgar Allan can stay with me. I have the top-floor apartment at the Marlboro House. It’s not much bigger than this place, but it has two bedrooms. Only one bath, but…” He shrugged. “I’m not a slob. And Edgar Allan will be safe there.”
Charlotte frowned as she gave that some thought. She hardly knew Walker. But then, she had kissed him. Twice. Three times if you counted the quick goodbye kiss. And he knew she was a witch. Plus, he was a shifter, and although he was a visitor, there did seem to be a sort of family feeling among the supernaturals in town, which meant they were all inclined to help one another in times of need.
Maybe that’s all Walker was doing. Extending a hand, the way family did. Although, if she was being truthful with herself, what she felt toward Walker was anything but sisterly affection. She wouldn’t tell him that, and she refused to fall for someone who was only going to leave town and break her heart, but she liked him. More than she should. Maybe it was stress from the break-in. Was stress-induced infatuation a thing?
He looked at the sheriff. “I could probably replace the lock.”
Charlotte frowned. “I don’t want to stay here tonight. Not after this.”
He stuck his hands in his jacket pocket. “Then maybe there’s someone else you could bunk with for a day or two?”
“No,” Charlotte said. “I’ll take you up on your offer. If you really don’t mind Edgar Allan staying with you.”
Walker shook his head. “I don’t. Not at all.”
“Then thank you. It’s very kind of you.” And if he got out of hand, she’d zap him with an energy bolt. That was the first thing Lola had taught her and the one spell she could successfully cast every time.
“Good.” The sheriff put her gloved hand on the doorknob. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get this walk-through over with so we know what we’re dealing with here. Walker, why don’t you come with us and help with the cat?”
Walker nodded. “I can take him down to the truck.”
The sheriff shot him a look. “Charlotte’s prints we don’t mind, but you don’t touch anything.”
“My prints are already going to be in the apartment. I was here for dinner, remember?”
“Oh, right. We’d better take yours so we can rule them out. Okay, in we go.” Sheriff Bull led them into the apartment. Two deputies were inside already. One was dusting for prints, the other was taking photos. The place was trashed.
Charlotte swallowed as she stopped at the edge of her living room. From here, she could see most of her small apartment. The kitchen cabinets were open, as was the cabinet on the TV stand. Books were pulled off the shelves, and in her bedroom, clothes from her dresser had been flung onto the bed. Her gut knotted up and her eyes went hot with the threat of tears.
Walker put his arm around her. “As soon as we’re able, I’ll help you straighten everything up.”
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“I know that’s a small comfort looking at all this now, but the sheriff will figure out who did this.” He gave her a little squeeze, then lowered his voice. “And we already know they didn’t get what they came for.”
“Right.” She glanced at the sheriff. “I’ll need to move a few things so I can put a bag together. Clothes and stuff like that. Supplies for Edgar Allan.”
Sheriff Bull looked up from her conversation with one of the deputies. “Right, right. Try to disturb things as little as possible.”
Charlotte nodded. “Okay. And I’ll let you know if anything’s missing, but right now, I’m going to get my stuff together.”
The deputy gave her a sympathetic glance. “Sorry about all this, Charlotte.”
“Thanks.” She went into the bedroom. Walker followed. The room was just as much of a mess as the rest of the house. “Wow. Did they have to go through everything?”
The dresser drawers that hadn’t been emptied were open and looked like they’d been stirred up. Bras and underwear spilled out of the top drawer like a lacy pastel wave. She grimaced. She wanted to shove them back in, but that would be moving stuff.
“You okay?”
“Yes. No.” She groaned. “I don’t think I can wear underwear that a stranger has fondled. Maybe not even after it’s been washed.”
“I…uh…” He looked away, his skin slightly flushed. Apparently discussing her underwear was more than the big, bad leopard shifter could handle.
It made her smile a little.
He took a few steps toward the closet, which looked like a bomb had gone off inside. “Do you have a suitcase I can get for you?”
She made herself stop smiling and answered him. “Get Edgar Allan’s carrier for me first. It’s on the top shelf of the closet, far right. Or it was.”
“I see it.” He took it down while she went into the bathroom and peeked behind the shower curtain. Edgar Allan hissed then started forward to butt his head against her hand. “I know, baby, it’s been a rough day, huh? I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Because if he hadn’t been okay, if he’d been hurt…suddenly, the tears came. She scooped his big, warm body into her arms and leaned against the bathroom counter, burying her face in his orange fluff.
“Hey,” Walker said softly. “You’re okay, and he’s okay, and that’s what matters, right?”
She sniffed and nodded, picking her head up. “Yes. But it’s the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me. What if Edgar Allan had been hurt? What if I’d been home?”
“But he wasn’t and you weren’t.” Walker brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “And I’m very glad for that because then I would have to hunt them down and make them pay. Which I’m probably going to do anyway.”
She smiled a little. “You haven’t known me long enough to avenge me.”
“I was talking about if they’d hurt my boy, Edgar Allan. Being that we’re practically related and all.”
The cat picked his head up and chirped at Walker, making Charlotte laugh. “Edgar Allan, you silly thing.” She scratched him under the chin. “I can’t imagine how freaked out he was.”
“Poor guy. I put the carrier on the bed. Let’s get him in there, then I can take him down to the truck while you pack a bag.”
“Perfect.” She carried Edgar Allan out and tucked him into the carrier, which he went into without a fuss, further proof that the poor animal had had enough of his current situation. “I’ll get another bag together with his food and a bowl and he’ll need a litter box and—”
“Charlotte,” Walker said. “I can do that. You get yourself sorted. I’ll take care of all the cat stuff.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m positive. Also, I’d like to remind you
that I live at the Marlboro House. It’s ten minutes away. In the same town. If we forget something, we’ll come back for it or buy it.”
“Okay, right. Thanks.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I really do appreciate this.”
“Happy to do it.” He picked up the carrier. “All right, Edgar Allan. I know I’m not your mother, but she’ll be along shortly, I promise.”
She watched him go as he took her cat down to his truck. Today was a horrible day, but it wasn’t all bad. Not with Walker around.
* * *
Walker put the carrier and a grocery bag of cat food he’d gathered in the kitchen onto the front seat. He locked the truck, then jogged back upstairs for the rest of the cat’s things. Namely the jug of litter and the box it went in. Those could go in the bed of the truck.
The apartment door was open and Charlotte was standing in the small foyer, a large duffel bag slung over her shoulder, talking to the sheriff. “Nothing missing that I could see.”
“You’re sure?” the sheriff asked.
“As best I could tell, yes.”
Walker stepped next to Charlotte. “I just need to grab the rest of Edgar Allan’s stuff and we’re ready to go.”
She looked at him. “Thanks.” She glanced at the sheriff again. “You’ll let me know if you find out anything?”
The sheriff nodded. “I have your number.”
Walker tipped his head toward the door as he spoke to Charlotte. “Go ahead to the truck if you want. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She headed out.
He grabbed the litter and the litter box, then went down to the truck and put them in the bed. Charlotte was in the passenger’s seat with the carrier on her lap. Her bag was at her feet. He got in, closed the door, and started the truck to get the heat going again. It wasn’t freezing yet, but there was a chill in the air. “If you didn’t find anything missing, that confirms whoever broke in was after the book.”
“Right.”
“You have more questions, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I do.”
“You want to ask them now?”
“Yes.”
“Go ahead.” He’d answer as truthfully as he could. She deserved that.
“What’s this organization you work for?”
“The Fraternal Order of Light. FOL for short.”
“And they hired you because you’re a leopard shifter?”
“They didn’t exactly hire me. When I was an infant, I was left on the doorstep of one of their agents. He adopted me, raised me as his own. Going to work for the FOL just seemed like the thing to do.”
“Is it only men then? Fraternal seems very…manly.”
“It was originally. But not these days.”
“This man who adopted you, was he a shifter too?”
“No, he was human. But he did his best to teach me about who I really am.”
“Are there other supernaturals that work for the FOL?”
“Yes. A lot, actually.”
“And you just sensed that I was a witch?”
“The FOL knew there was a witch working at the library. We just didn’t know who until I figured out it was you. But I do have a pretty good magical radar.”
She looked at him as she hugged the carrier closer. “What kind of training did the FOL put you through?”
That was not going to be an easy question to answer honestly, and lying to her, with everything else going on, felt like a step in the wrong direction. Telling her the truth could send her running, and she was going to need his protection.
He made himself smile and did his best to answer factually, if not completely. “All kinds. Fighting techniques, tracking, weapons, magic, languages, runes, history. You name it, they taught it.”
It seemed to satisfy her, but he was still happy to change the subject. “Do you want to go by the library before we head to my place? Maybe pick up the book?”
“That’s probably not a bad idea. Millie won’t like that I’m leaving again but she’s just going to have to sit tight until I get back from setting Edgar Allan up at your place.”
“You could stay at the library if you wanted. I can always take your stuff to the apartment. Including Edgar Allan. But I’m sure he’d feel better if you were there to get him settled in.”
“Yep, me too.”
“Millie ought to give you the rest of the day off. Having your place broken into is stressful. To say the least.”
“It’s okay, I don’t mind going back to work. The activity will help keep my mind off the break in. And the only other librarian is part time and today’s one of his days off.”
“Okay, if you’re sure.”
She slanted her eyes at him. “It’s very nice of you to let me stay with you, and I really appreciate it, but I think I should say up front that there better not be any funny business. Not that I think that’s why you offered. I just think I should say it. Also, since you know I’m a witch, it’s worth telling you that I’m adept at conjuring bolts of magical electricity at will. I’ve been told they could stop a charging elephant, so a leopard should be no problem.”
He smirked. “No funny business intended, I swear. But good to know about the magical electricity all the same.”
A few minutes later, he pulled into the library parking lot. “I’ll stay here with Edgar Allan. That way I can keep the heat on for him.”
“Good.” She hopped out, then stood there with the door ajar. “I won’t be long. I’m just going to grab my tote bag, tell Millie I’ll be back as soon as possible, then we can go to your place. Or should I drive my own car over there? Then you don’t have to drive me back.”
“I’m happy to drive you back. It’s one less thing for you to worry about right now.”
“Okay.” She smiled a little. “Thanks.”
She shut the door and went inside. He turned on the radio, finding something soft. Music was supposed to be soothing for animals and humans alike, and her cat was putting out some seriously unhappy vibes. Walker peered into the carrier. “You okay in there, buddy? I know it sucks, but you’ll be out of there soon enough.”
The cat’s gold gaze locked onto Walker, and he meowed.
Walker shook his head. “I wish you could tell me who broke in.” He sighed. He could get a sense of the animal’s mood, what he liked and didn’t, but actual communication wasn’t possible. Cats, after all, couldn’t talk. “Listen, I promise I’m not going to hurt your mother. I like her. And I can tell she’s one of the good guys. I wasn’t sure at first, but I have to trust my gut. So you have nothing to worry about there, okay?”
Another meow answered him.
Walker leaned over and stuck his fingers through the front grate of the carrier so he could scratch the cat’s cheek. “Just do me a favor? If you hate my apartment, don’t leave any presents in my shoes or anywhere else in the morning, cool? I’m just renting. It’s not like I had a lot of say in the place.”
Charlotte came out of the library, eyes wide in panic. Her steps were short and clipped, like she was on the verge of running.
Walker got out of the truck to meet her. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, refusing to speak until she was closer. She was pale, her grip tight on the straps of the tote bag slung over her shoulder. “The book is gone.”
Chapter Eleven
Charlotte crouched to let Edgar Allan out of his carrier and into Walker’s small living room. “There you go, baby.”
The cat stuck his head out, sniffed a few times, then cautiously walked forward to explore.
His food and water were already arranged on a tea towel in the narrow galley kitchen, and the litter box had been squeezed into the bathroom between the toilet and the vanity. Edgar Allan would find it. Cats were smart and he was no exception.
She straightened and repeated what she’d said in the car, because it was still settling in. “The book being gone is bad. Really bad.”
“I agree.” Walk
er rubbed a hand over his face. “We have to figure out who was in the library while we were gone.”
“That’s easy.” She watched Edgar Allan for a second longer. He jumped onto the couch, the only furniture in the living room besides a coffee table and the stand holding the television, turned around once and settled down. “Besides you, me, and Millie, there was Judge Turnbury – he comes in every morning to read the papers. And Deputy November, since Sheriff Bull sent him over. There were also a few other regulars there when I went in. So, no one who looked shady or like a criminal.”
“What about people who might have come and gone while you weren’t there?”
“I can ask Millie. I guarantee she’ll know. No one escapes her scrutiny.”
“Unless she’s the one who stole the book.”
Charlotte frowned. “Do you think that’s possible? I mean, why would she? She thinks it’s garbage, for one thing. She tossed it out after it showed up in the book return box. I only have it now because I went into the bin after it.”
“Maybe for that reason alone. Maybe she’s mad you got it out of the trash after she threw it away. She could have chucked it in the bin again.”
“But she wouldn’t have known it was in my tote bag.”
His brows lifted. “Unless she regularly snoops through your stuff.”
A soft growl escaped Charlotte before she could stop herself. “That would be so like her. Nosy woman. But I can check the garbage when I get back to the library. I’ll see if I can tell who else was in while I was gone, too.”
“Do you have security cameras? Maybe you could look through this morning’s footage.”
She laughed. “Security cameras in the library of Everlasting?”
“Yeah, forget I asked.”
She glanced at Edgar Allan, who was now snoozing. “I guess there’s nothing else for me to do here. I should get back. Millie’s already in a mood about me being gone. The longer I’m away, the worse it’ll get.”
He swung his keys around his finger. “Are you still up to dinner tonight at Chickadee’s when you get off?”
She rolled her lips in for a moment like she was thinking. “Could we maybe order in a pizza instead? It’s Friday and with the tourists in town, the diner will be mobbed. I’d rather just stay in and crash after…everything.”
Witchful Thinking: A Cozy Paranormal Mystery Page 8