Walter glanced around the shop. “I don’t see anything else here that will work. Now that I’ve seen that one, I know what I want.” He nodded and headed to the door. “I’ll get another one in the city.”
Vanessa let him leave without saying good-bye. After he turned the corner out of sight, she chuckled to herself and patted her cat. “Good girl, Flossy. You showed him.”
She went to the back of the shop to get the broom. She smiled at Henry and Aurora still curled up together. Henry could cure any ill. Flossy went back to her post among the vases. AngelPie mewed down from her shelf.
“But Walter’s not a Mafioso,” Vanessa remarked. “Then again, neither was Alfred. Maybe Penny only used the word Mafioso in a figurative sense.”
Flossy sat down and licked her back. Vanessa swept up the mess.
“What I mean is,” she explained, “maybe she meant this bride’s brother was a Mafioso in the sense that he demands everybody do things his own way. Demanding—you know what I mean.”
AngelPie hopped off her shelf and mewed up at Vanessa.
“Yes, I know it’s lunchtime,” Vanessa told her. “Just let me finish cleaning up here and then we’ll eat.”
She dumped the broken glass into the trashcan and started serving cat food.
“Here’s what I don’t understand,” she went on. “If Penny was complaining about Walter interfering with his sister’s wedding, then what connects her to Alfred? We keep assuming she was complaining about Alfred, and that’s what gave her a motive to kill him.”
Teddy rubbed against her leg.
“Oh, I know making a pest of yourself at someone else’s wedding doesn’t constitute a motive for murder,” she remarked. “But stranger things have happened. Maybe she had some other reason to hate him.”
Chapter 7
Vanessa locked up the shop and hurried down the street toward the bank. She made the usual evening deposit and started to head home. When she got to the bottom of the front steps of the bank, she slowed down when a familiar figure approached out of the foggy dusk.
Pete Wheeler greeted her. “Good evening, Vanessa. How are you?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “I’m just fine, Detective—I mean, Pete. How are you this evening?”
“I’m just fine.” he replied. “Do you mind if I walk you home?”
“Not at all.” They started down the street side by side. “How’s the investigation going?”
Pete made a face. “Not very good. I’m afraid there’s just not much evidence to connect any of the suspects to Alfred Botchweather. Either everyone in this town kept their noses clean, or somebody’s lying to me.”
Vanessa hummed in answer but didn’t look at him.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Have you found out anything? Have you had any opportunity to talk to the suspects about the case?”
Vanessa stopped in front of the Opportunity Shop with her keys in her hand. “This is my place.”
He frowned. “Is something wrong, Vanessa?”
She waved her hands. “It’s been a long day. Don’t you have a home to go to?”
Pete stiffened. “Are you trying to tell me something, Vanessa?”
Vanessa sighed. “Listen, Pete. I really appreciate you taking me into your confidence about this case. I’m really flattered that you want my help. But maybe we should keep things professional between us. After all, I’m one of your suspects.”
He brightened up. “Oh, I think I know a murder suspect when I see one. I think I can safely rule you out for the Botchweather murder.”
Vanessa’s shoulders sagged. “If you want to talk to me about this case, why don’t you come inside?”
His face broke into a glorious smile. “I’d love to. I thought you’d never ask.”
“Don’t sound so thrilled,” she shot back. “Just be prepared for wall-to-wall cats.”
“That’s all right with me,” he replied. “I like cats.”
She slid her key into the lock. “That’s what everybody says.”
She led him up the back stairs and into her apartment. The cats called out to her the moment she opened the door. She pushed them out of the way with her foot to make room for Pete to enter.
“You see what I mean?” she asked.
Pete laughed. “You said they were wall-to-wall.”
She put her handbag on the hall table and hung her keys on the hook. Then she took off her scarf and coat and hung them up as well.
“Just wait a minute. I’ll light the fire and then we can settle down and talk.”
Pete took the chair by the fire. He smiled at Henry and Aurora curled up in their place by the hearth. He put out his hand to pet them. Henry raised his head and locked his eyes on Pete. Aurora stared at him, but she didn’t hiss.
Vanessa caught him by the wrist. “I wouldn’t, if I were you.”
Pete retreated to his chair. “Why not?”
“I just got Aurora today,” Vanessa replied. “She was abandoned by the side of the road, and she still doesn’t trust people.”
“Which one is Aurora?” he asked.
Vanessa smiled. “Sorry. I forget sometimes that other people don’t know my cats as well as I do. Aurora is the kitten. The spotted tom is Henry. He’s the one that sleeps in the book section in the Shop. He’s nursing Aurora back to health.”
“What’s wrong with her?” he asked. “She looks happy enough to me.”
“She’s extremely dehydrated and malnourished,” Vanessa told him. “ This morning, she ate her first meal in I don’t know how long. That’s why she looks happy. That, and Henry’s with her. Henry always knows what’s good for everybody.”
“Maybe he can help me solve this case,” Pete suggested.
Vanessa put a log on the fire and sat back in her own chair. Cats immediately swarmed into her lap and shortly after, eight cats rested on top of her thighs and in the pockets at her sides. Ambrosia and AngelPie took a chance with Pete and got into his lap. He stroked and scratched them, and they purred and rubbed him back. He smiled down at them.
“Listen, Pete,” Vanessa said at last. “I really would like to talk to you about this case, but the truth is, that I’m not all that innocent when it comes to Alfred.”
His head shot up. “What do you mean?”
Vanessa blushed. “I lied to you at the bank. I had some unpleasant dealings with Alfred Botchweather. I wish I’d never seen his face, but I’m afraid I have as much of a motive to kill him as anybody else.”
Pete clucked his tongue and shook his head. “You better tell me everything.”
“That’s why I invited you up here,” she replied. “I told you my son Tom knew Alfred at school.”
“Yeah,” he prompted.
Vanessa took a deep breath. “Well, my son made the mistake of borrowing money from Alfred. Money he couldn’t pay back. He got into serious trouble and had to leave town.”
Pete’s eyes blazed in the firelight. “What do you mean by serious trouble?”
“I don’t know what you’ve got in that file of yours downtown,” she went on, “but I suppose I could be the first person to tell you this about Alfred. When Tom didn’t pay his debt, Alfred sent some heavies around to our house. They threatened Tom—and me.”
“Did you tell the police?” Pete asked.
“Oh, wait. Don’t answer that. If you had, there would be a record of it, and there isn’t. So you didn’t tell the police.
What did you do?”
“I paid him off,” Vanessa replied. “I dipped into the Cat Protection League bank account, and it took me almost five years to pay the money back. But I did it, and I sent Tom to live in Montreal where he wouldn’t have anything more to do with Alfred.”
Pete nodded. “Thanks for telling me. I won’t tell you that you should have told me at the bank, but it doesn’t matter. Even if you told me before, I would still think you’re innocent.”
Vanessa’s eyes popped open. “You would?”
/> “Sure,” he replied. “I know an innocent person when I meet one.”
“Do you know a guilty person when you meet one, too?” she asked.
He laughed. “I wish. If I did, I would know who to look at for this murder.”
“Do you have any clues at all?” she asked.
Pete shook his head and gazed down at Ambrosia. “What about you?”
Vanessa shrugged. “All of your suspects have come and talked to me since I saw you last. I had a feeling they would. People need someone to talk to, even if it’s just to say they didn’t kill Alfred. All three of them have just as much of a motive to kill him as I do—all except....” Vanessa stopped.
“What?” he asked. “All except who?”
Vanessa’s mind raced through the events of the previous few days. Then she shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Something about this doesn’t make sense.”
“Talk to me,” he urged. “Tell me what’s on your mind. Anything you can tell me will help.”
“Do you remember what you just said about Henry helping you solve this case?” Vanessa asked. “Well, you aren’t far off. You might not believe it, but these cats know things people can never know.
This afternoon, Walter came into the shop. He was looking for a cake stand for a wedding lunch he’s giving. He started going through the glassware, and Flossy was sitting there, just like she usually does. He smiled and reached out to pet her. I don’t know what got into her, but she hissed at him and scratched at him. She ripped open his hand.”
Pete’s eyes widened again. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“The thing is,” Vanessa explained, “Flossy’s always the most sedate, friendly cat in the world. She never scratched anyone in her life.”
“So what does that have to do with a murder case?” he asked.
“If I didn’t know better,” she replied, “I would think Flossy suspected Walter of the murder. Cats can sense when a person isn’t good or nice, or when they’re pretending to be something different than what they really are.”
“So,” he concluded, “you think—or Flossy thinks—that Walter is the murderer.”
“But he has the least reason to do it,” Vanessa went on. “The other two have much more motive to kill Alfred. At least, I know about their motives. I don’t know about Walter having any motive.”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one,” Pete replied.
“Tell me what the other two had against him.”
“Penny came here, to my apartment, as soon as you finished interviewing her at the bank,” Vanessa told him. “She started telling me about a wedding she was doing. She’s a wedding planner, you know.”
“I know,” he replied.
“Well, she started telling me about all the nightmare weddings she has to deal with,” Vanessa went on. “It was really funny. Then she started telling me about this Mafioso who was the bride’s brother. He insisted everything be done his way, and no one could do anything without his approval.”
Pete nodded. “I see. So you think Botchweather was the Mafioso.”
“That’s what I thought at first,” Vanessa explained. “I mean, who else could she be talking about? But then Walter came in looking for his cake stand. He wanted it because he was giving a lunch for his sister, who was getting married. He started complaining about no one taking his suggestions and the wedding planner messing things up.”
“So you think Walter is the Mafioso,” Pete added.
“I just don’t know anymore,” Vanessa replied. “I’m confused. If Walter is the Mafioso, then Penny has no reason to kill Alfred. But Walter isn’t a Mafioso. He doesn’t have any criminal dealings.”
Pete knit his brows. “All right. I see what you’re saying. So tell me about the plumber, that Fleetwood character.”
“He’s got the same story as my boy Tom,” Vanessa replied. “He made the mistake of placing some bets with Alfred, and when the time came to pay, he didn’t have the money. He was going to ask Alfred for an extension, but....” Vanessa jumped up in her chair. Tapioca caught hold of her pant legs with his claws to stabilize himself, and she winced in pain. “Oh, goodness! I just remembered. How silly of me.”
“What?” Pete asked.
“Ollie told me the whole story,” she told him. “He was going to ask Alfred for an extension, but he met up with someone else who advised him against it. The person he met was Alan Braithwaite. Alan told him he should do everything he could to avoid getting more into debt with Alfred than he already was. He told Ollie that Alfred would compound the debt until it was so big Ollie would never be able to pay it off.”
Pete shrugged. “Same old story.”
“That’s not the whole story, though,” Vanessa told him. “Alan Braithwaite is Penny’s brother. She was married, and Cartwright is her married name. Ollie says that Alan must have had some dealings with Alfred himself. That’s how he knows what sort of businessman Alfred was.”
“So you think Penny killed Alfred out of revenge for something he did to her brother,” Pete concluded.
Vanessa raised her hands. “I’m just telling you what I heard. I’m not saying anybody did anything to anybody else.”
Pete nodded. “I appreciate you telling me all this. And I really appreciate you telling me about your own dealings with Alfred. I knew you were an honest person.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” she murmured.
“Never mind,” he replied. “Now let’s talk about something else.”
“Like what?” she asked.
“Let’s talk about you and me,” he told her.
“You and me?” she repeated. “Is there a you and me?”
He leaned forward in his chair, and Ambrosia grumbled to herself. Pete took Vanessa’s hand from the arm of her chair and rolled her fingers in his hand. “I’d like there to be a you and me.”
Vanessa blushed. “I’m old enough to be your mother.”
He snorted. “How old are you? You can’t be older than I am.”
Vanessa tugged at her hand, but he held onto her. “A lady never tells her age.”
“Not even a cat lady?” he asked.
She laughed. “All right. I’m forty-eight.”
“I’m forty-nine,” he told her.
Vanessa lowered her eyes. Was she really batting her eyelashes at this man like a blushing schoolgirl? Was her heart really pounding with excitement at the thought that something could happen between them? And what could happen between them after all these years of living alone with her cats? They would never forgive her for betraying them.
“Listen, Pete,” she began.
“Don’t say anything.” He caressed her hand. “It’s all right.”
“No, I have to say it,” she replied. “You’re a police officer, and you’re investigating a murder that I’m involved in. Let’s agree to keep things platonic between us, at least until the case is resolved.”
He let go of her hand and leaned back. “All right. If it will make you more comfortable, we can agree to that. I just want you to understand how I feel about you. I want something more between us than just platonic friendship. You deserve better than to live here alone with a bunch of cats.”
Vanessa bristled. “What’s wrong with living with cats?”
He looked around. If he could only hear their thoughts the way she did. “Don’t you get lonely sometimes?”
“Lonely? Never,” she replied. “I have all the company I need.”
He frowned. “Then I guess you don’t really need me.”
“I don’t need you,” she replied. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want your company.”
“Do you want my company?” he asked.
“I always enjoy the time we spend together,” she told him. “Let’s leave it at that.”
“I enjoy the time I spend with you, too,” he replied. “I haven’t felt that way about anybody in a long, long time. That’s why I don’t want to let it go.”
> “You don’t have to let it go,” she told him. “Just keep things the way they are right now. Don’t try to change it.”
“All right.” He stood up.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I thought you wanted me to leave,” he replied.
“No way!” she exclaimed “Sit down. We’re only just getting started.”
Pete smiled and sat down again. “All right. Where were we?”
Chapter 8
Vanessa rolled over in bed, but she made sure not to disturb the cats. AngelPie peeped on her pillow, and Foxle squirmed under the blankets down near her feet.
“Another day, my lovelies. Time to get up.”
She snuck out of bed and took a shower. When she came out of the bathroom with a towel around her head, she found the cats waiting for her. They cried for breakfast.
“I’m coming,” she told them. “Just wait until I get dressed.”
They didn’t wait. They screamed and crowded around her, sitting on her feet so she could hardly walk. She didn’t have the heart to push them away. She waded through them to her closet and got dressed.
She spotted Teddy in the mirror while she ran a brush through her hair. “You don’t have to worry. I would never give you up for anything, not even that nice detective.”
She put on her sweater and went to the kitchen. AngelPie jumped up on the counter to watch her open the cans.
“You know better than to get on the counter, AngelPie,” she scolded.
The cat didn’t move, and Vanessa put down her can opener. She hooked her hand under AngelPie’s stomach and set her on her feet on the floor.
“Stay down, now. Don’t make me tell you again. You know the rules. You don’t see anyone else doing that.”
She fed the cats in the kitchen. Then she took another dish of food to Aurora in her nest by the fire. The kitten crawled out of the blankets and came toward her.
“That’s a good girl,” Vanessa murmured. “I knew you’d be all right. Yes, you’re right. He’s a very nice man, and he seems to like cats. That’s what I like about him.”
Depawsit Slip (Vanessa Abbot Cat Protection League Cozy Mystery Series Book 1) Page 5