Ralph swung the camera right at Ulla. She smiled and looked down at Annie Reilly with an almost beatific look. “This charmer’s name is Annie,” she said. “And she’s not the only kitty looking for a forever home here in Deer Park.” The camera swung toward Rocco and Bubba, who were now fighting over possession of a catnip banana.
“These adorable kitties and more like them are one reason why Ulla Townsend chose to have her kickoff signing here,” said Candy. “If any of you watching live in the Deer Park area, you should check out the residents of Friendly Paws. We’ll have more details at the end of the program.”
“Great. That’s a wrap,” Wendy called out. She walked over to me. “Can you get me the particulars on your shelter and the names of the cats who were up for adoption today? I’ll have Candy do a voice-over later.”
Ken turned to Ulla. “Okay, Ulla, time to meet your public. Believe me, they are anxiously awaiting you.”
“I’m sure they are.” She frowned. “Let’s get this over with, shall we? We’ve got a trip to L.A. to finalize right after this too.”
Ken laid his hand on Ulla’s arm. “You go on,” he urged her. “I’ve some … matters to attend to first.”
Ulla’s gaze settled on Ken, then wandered to Candy, then back to Ken. “Oh, by all means attend to your matters,” she said, in a tone that dripped with venom. “By the way, I meant what I told you last night.” She made a slicing motion across her throat with her hand. “See that Glow deal is locked up, or you’ll soon have plenty of time on your hands to take care of matters. Our contract is up for renewal in two weeks, remember?”
“How could I forget?” Ken managed a tired smile at Ulla, then turned and walked off. Ulla turned her back, so she was unaware of the venomous look Candy shot in her direction before following Ken. Ulla started to put the necklace back on, then gave a cry. “Oh darn. The clasp broke.” She looked around and spied the tote bag. She walked over, opened the bag, and threw the necklace inside. Then she tossed it carelessly into the storage area near the spot where we’d stacked the pet carriers. “I’ll have someone repair it later,” she said. “Right now, it’s showtime.” With a smile that I thought was directed more at the cat than anyone else, Ulla swept from the room.
“You can’t make this stuff up.”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Wendy. I’d forgotten she was still here. “Ulla argues and threatens Ken one day, and the next they’re all smiles,” Wendy continued. “She and Candy are like Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. Nice for the camera, but don’t turn your back. And it won’t be long before we get to do this all over again. Rumor has it, Ulla’s got a second book in the works. And that she had to change some names and label it fiction to avoid potential lawsuits.”
* * *
Wendy made her way into the main part of the bookstore, and I turned to make my way back to the pop-up area. As I stepped into the adjoining hallway, I noticed the back door was slightly ajar. I walked over to close it, and as I grasped the handle, I gave a quick glance at the parking lot in back. I saw two figures in the shadows. There was something intimate about their body language, and as they moved out of the shadows and into the light I recognized the taller figure instantly. Ken Colgate. I craned my neck, trying to discern the identity of the shorter figure—Savannah, no doubt. But as she moved into the light, I saw it was Ulla. Ulla reached up, touched Ken’s cheek, then pulled him down for a hard kiss on the lips. Well, well, I thought. It looked as if they were kissing and making up—literally—after their earlier argument. They remained locked in the embrace another few seconds, and then the two of them turned and walked around the side of the building. I started to close the door, when I saw another shadow detach itself from a dark alcove and walk swiftly in the other direction. Even though the figure was several feet away, I recognized the drab gray skirt and pea coat.
Cathy Colgate. Ken’s wife.
Chapter Six
By the time Ulla sat down to sign books at twelve-thirty, the crowd had grown to epic proportions. I was glad that Tara had taken my advice and contacted the police department for extra “muscle.” Two plainclothes officers were stationed at the front door to monitor the influx. Ulla sat at the small table in front of the counter, Wendy at her side. There were two large piles of books on the table, and as the people approached, Wendy asked each of them how they would like their book signed, then wrote the information on a small card and passed it to Ulla. I caught sight of Ken Colgate, standing off to one side, arms folded across his chest. His wife stood next to him, close enough so that their shoulders touched. Not exactly an intimate gesture, but one I imagined was close enough for them. Savannah lingered near the door, her gaze alternating between Ulla and Ken Colgate. I didn’t see any sign of Candy Carmichael, but I imagined she was around somewhere. No doubt Ken had advised her to steer clear of the signing area. After all, it was Ulla’s event, and I doubted the woman would appreciate anyone being there who’d steal any of her limelight.
Once their book was signed, some of the people ambled either out of the store or else back to the café area for one of Dayna’s complimentary treats. I waited on the sidelines, ready to escort anyone who showed an interest in the kitties over to our pop-up play area. Not too many people ventured my way, however, and at last Ulla rose from her seat and clapped her hands at the throng still clustered around her table.
“Listen, folks. Part of the reason for my signing here tonight was to help the Deer Park shelter find homes for these dear, sweet, homeless kitties. I do hope some of you will at least look at them. If you yourself aren’t interested, perhaps you might know someone who is.”
No sooner were the words out of her mouth than a half a dozen people started making their way toward me. For the next hour, we were all kept busy with a steady stream of people inquiring about our adoptees. Inez Morton, one of the library volunteers, put in an adoption form for Princess Fuzzypants, declaring she was the spitting image of a cat she’d had when she was ten. “I want to bring her to work with me. I saw three mice in the basement just this past week. I just don’t know how Rita can stand to work down there all the time.” Inez gave a small shudder. “Plus her red fur reminds me of my Aunt Eunice,” she added as she handed me a deposit check. “Aunt Eunice had flaming red hair, like Lucille Ball. And it was natural!”
A half hour later, three of the cats had gold stars on their cages, indicating an application for adoption had been filled out. I finished taking an application from Cyndy Moseby, one of the waitresses at Rosie’s diner. The girl left with a big smile on her face, and I went over and put a gold star on a grey and white striped tabby’s cage.
“Yeah, Bubba!” Viola grinned at me. “So Cyndy took a shine to him, eh?”
“I had a feeling they’d be perfect for each other,” I said. “They both crave affection.”
“Wonderful,” Viola said, and then she let out a sigh. “Too bad we can’t say the same for our gal Annie.” I had to agree. Annie, while not shy around shiny things, was shy around people. She found a deserted corner and made that her home. While it lessened our headaches, it wasn’t a quality especially conducive to getting adopted. I had the feeling the shelter might be Annie’s home for quite a while yet.
There was a light lull in the prospective adoptions around two o’clock so I decided to see how the line for the signing was progressing. There were still a good number of people waiting. I craned my neck, trying to see if I could spy anyone I knew in the crowd. Diane Ryan had mentioned she might stop by, but so far I hadn’t seen any sign of her. As I started to turn away, Wendy stood up and said to the crowd, “Ulla’s going to take a short break, and then she’ll be back to sign your books. In the meantime, please help yourselves to coffee and pastries, and feel free to check out the residents of the Friendly Paws Shelter.”
Ulla got up, stretched, and walked off toward the rear entrance, Wendy at her heels. I turned back toward the café section to see how the others were making out. One glance was all I nee
ded to see that they were totally slammed. Dayna caught my eye and made a frantic “come here” gesture. I hurried over to the counter without hesitation. “What happened?” I asked.
“Louise was fighting a migraine all morning, and it took its toll on her,” she said through gritted teeth. “She offered to stay, but I told her to go on home. We were doing okay, just Donna and me—and then the floodgates opened.”
“Ulla’s on a break,” I said. “But I’d be glad to pitch in and help you get this line down.”
“Would you?” Dayna flashed me a grateful look. “Darlin’, if you can do that, I’ll give you free lattes for a week.”
I tossed her a wink. “You’re on.” I knotted Louise’s discarded apron around my waist. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I used to help Dad out when he got slammed too. I’ll bet we get this down to half the size in less than twenty minutes.”
“Okay then, Speedy,” chuckled Donna. “I’ll take the coffee orders, you deliver them. Dayna’s on pastry. Got it?”
I made a mock salute. “Yes ma’am.”
We worked steadily for the next ten minutes, and the line did start to rapidly dwindle down as satisfied customers walked off with their coffee and pastry. When the line was down to about ten people, Donna passed me her pad. “I’ve got to hit the ladies’ room,” she whispered. “Can you handle it for a few minutes?”
I puffed out my chest. “Is the sky blue? Next,” I called out, pad poised to take the order. Next turned out to be a handsome man in a light blue suit. His dark hair was cut in a becoming fashion, and behind his wire-rimmed glasses two blue eyes held a slight twinkle as he turned to me. “I’ll have a mocha latte, hold the whipped cream,” he said. He flashed me a wide smile, showing off perfect teeth and cute dimples bracketing his smile.
I smiled right back. “One mocha latte coming right up.”
As I turned toward the cappuccino machine, I glanced over at the pop-up area. Everything seemed to be under control there. My gaze wandered briefly to the hall beyond, and I saw Ulla standing there. Her hands were on her hips, and she appeared to be talking earnestly to someone who stood just out of my range of vision. Whoever it was, though, must have upset her, because her face contorted into a snarl, and her hands curled into fists. I frowned and craned my neck, trying to see just who it was who’d produced this sort of reaction from the shopping channel host, but all I could see was just the teeniest flash of red in the darkened alcove.
“Hey,” I heard Dayna say. “Are you getting that guy’s latte or what?”
“Sorry,” I murmured. I dragged my gaze away from the scene in the hallway and finished making the drink. I put a plastic top on the cup and quickly carried it back to the counter, where I noticed, much to my relief, that there was only one other person in line now besides my customer. I set the latte down on the counter, maybe a bit too forcefully. The top (which I confess, I’d not placed on too tightly) popped off, and hot liquid spilled out and across the counter. The man jerked his hand away in time to avoid a nasty burn, but not quick enough to save his suit. I gasped as he lifted his arm and I caught sight of a very dark mocha stain marring the pale blue of the sleeve.
“Oh my God,” I cried. “I am so sorry!” I reached beneath the counter, grabbed a rag, and started sopping up the dark liquid.
The man, for his part, didn’t seem all that upset. He’d grabbed some napkins from the dispenser on the counter and was wiping his sleeve. “Hey, things happen. It was an accident.”
“An accident caused by my clumsiness,” I said ruefully. “I am so sorry. Your suit—I hope it’s not ruined.”
He plucked at the sleeve of his jacket. “No worries,” he said calmly. “This is an old jacket anyway.”
I frowned. The jacket looked new to me. I had a feeling the man was just being polite. “Regardless, please allow me to pay to have it dry-cleaned for you.”
He waved his hand. “Not necessary. Tell you what, though. I could use another latte.”
“Of course.” Feeling slightly embarrassed, I quickly whipped up the latte, this time making certain the lid was on nice and tight. Then I selected one of Dayna’s blond brownies and shoved that in a paper bag. I went back to the counter and handed the cup and bag to the gentleman.
“Here you go,” I said. “With an extra treat for good measure.”
He took the bag and cup and smiled that killer smile again. “Totally not necessary … but thanks.”
“Wait!” I shouted as he turned to go. I grabbed one of Dayna’s cards from the counter, scribbled the shelter phone number and my first name on the back, and handed it to him. “Just in case you change your mind about having that jacket dry-cleaned,” I said.
He looked at the card, then at me. “Syd? That’s a girl’s name?”
I chuckled. I was used to that reaction when someone learned my name. “My parents thought I’d be a boy, and my mother promised her brother she’d name me after him, so … it’s Sydney. With a Y.”
He touched two fingers to his forehead in a salute. “Okay, Sydney with a Y. Maybe I’ll see you again.”
With one last dazzling smile, he turned and vanished back into the main part of the store. Behind me I heard Dayna chuckle.
“That’s not the way to meet men, Sydney. They’re supposed to spill stuff on you, and then take you out to dinner to make up for it.”
“Thanks for the tip.” I chuckled as I took off my apron and tossed it on the counter. “I guess now I know why I don’t meet more men. I’m too clumsy.”
Dayna grinned. “I don’t think Mr. Blue Suit there minded you being clumsy at all. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if he looks you up and asks you out.”
“Oh, Dayna, really,” I said. “He was just being kind, is all.”
“Humph. I saw the way he looked at you, girl, and you mark my words. If he doesn’t make a move to get in touch with you or ask you out within the next forty-eight hours, I’ll give you a free sweet and coffee for a week.”
“You’re on,” I said. “Make sure you have plenty of that Southern Jumbo Java on hand. And a good supply of those Dabby Doughs, because this is one bet I’m sure to win.”
“Humph,” Dayna grumbled again. “We’ll just see, won’t we?”
* * *
Donna returned and I left the café area in their capable hands. As I walked into the cat play area, I stole a quick glance toward the hallway. Ulla and her mysterious stranger had been replaced by a glaring Savannah and a flustered-looking Tara.
“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have a locked area,” Savannah said petulantly. “I’ve chased four fans out of here already who looked like they were going to make off with Ulla’s tote bag.”
“I explained that to Mr. Colgate. We didn’t have enough room to have designated spaces for the shelter and Ms. Townsend. Unfortunately, everyone must share, and it made more sense for the area to be open, in case the shelter people needed to get something. Besides, even you have to admit there’s a lot of activity back here from Ulla’s camera crew.”
“In bigger stores that’s never a problem,” Savannah said with a sniff. “I’d certainly advise Ulla against a return visit here.”
The two women moved off, still arguing. I felt a bit sorry for Tara, but at the same time I felt confident she could hold her own against Savannah. I started for Kat’s table, and as I approached, she looked over and mouthed “more applications” at me. I gave her a brisk wave and turned in the direction of the storage area. As I entered, I saw Ulla standing uncertainly off to one side. She looked a bit flustered, so I walked over to her and touched her gently on the shoulder. “Ms. Townsend? Are you all right?”
She whirled, and I saw a red flush creeping up one side of her neck. She saw me staring and raised one hand self-consciously to rub at the spot. “Oh. Yes. I just came here to put on some more lip gloss.” I glanced down and saw that she held the tube in her other hand. As she stood there, still looking dazed, I walked over and touched her arm. “Ms. Tow
nsend, are you all right?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes, yes. Fine, thank you.” She walked over to where the flowered tote lay and snatched it up. She dropped the tube of gloss inside and then casually tossed the bag aside. It landed on its side right next to some of the Friendly Paws rubber bins. Ulla didn’t bother to retrieve it, just turned and walked out without a backward glance in my direction. I shook my head, then walked over to the stack of boxes and opened the top one. Fortunately, that was the one the adoption applications were stuffed into. I grabbed a handful and made my way back to the pop-up. Kat eyed me as I entered.
“What took so long?” she asked.
“Nothing really. Ulla was in the storage area. She didn’t appear to be feeling too well.” I glanced at my watch. “Maybe it’s a good thing there’s only a half hour to go.”
“I hope she’s able to finish.” Kat inclined her head toward the cat area. “We were pretty busy for a while, but it’s seemed to slow down. Nearly all the cats we brought have applications for adoption, though, so that’s a good thing.”
I clapped my hands. “Yay! Maybe we’ll have a hundred percent success rate.”
Kat shook her head. “That won’t happen, not unless Ulla decides to adopt Annie Reilly and Sylvie. They’re the last two.”
I glanced up. A man and a woman stood uncertainly in the doorway. “Well, who knows,” I said. “Maybe they’ll want two cats.” I detached myself from Kat and walked toward the newcomers. “Welcome. Are you interested in adoption?”
“Yes, we are.” The man held out his hand. “I’m Jay Johnston and this is my wife, Susan. We’ve just relocated here from Boston and our eighteen-year-old tabby passed away a few weeks ago.”
“I wasn’t sure if I wanted another one after her,” said Susan Johnston, “but Jay here convinced me that we should have a pet. We read about this event in the paper so … here we are.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” I said with a broad smile. “We have two kitties in need of a forever home here right now. If neither of them appeals to you, we have more at the shelter.”
Death by a Whisker Page 6