by C Farren
“I’ve missed you too my candies,” said Maureen, trying to give each of them a stroke on the head. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
Wren sat down in her chair, watching Maureen fussing over her cats. She didn’t care how she was alive, she just cared that her friend was unhurt. Maybe her hair would take a while to grow again, and it looked as though her eyebrows had been melted, but Maureen probably didn’t care about such things anyway.
“Does everyone think I’m dead?” Maureen asked.
“Pretty much,” said Wren.
“I think you’d be the only one who missed me.”
Brock was still hanging around, watching them with interest. He had a weird smug look on his face that Wren didn’t like.
“Why do you have an angel?” Maureen blurted out.
Wren looked at Brock, and then back at Maureen. “Now I get it. He flitted you out.”
“It was very disconcerting. I passed out when he brought me here, and when I woke up hours later he tried to convince me I’d dreamed the whole thing, but I’m not an idiot. I see things. I saw his wings. I felt myself transported here. He must’ve healed me as well because there was an explosion and I felt my hair on fire. Nobody would escape something like that without a single bruise or burn.”
Brock shrugged and said, “I healed you a bit. I got you out of there before things got really bad.”
Wren stroked Casper as he leaped onto her lap. He was still staring at Darcy the white cat, his eyes wider than they’d ever been. Casper was on the verge of an attack.
Suddenly it all makes sense.
“I think Darcy is the father of Gracie’s babies,” said Wren.
Maureen shrugged. “Perhaps.”
“We’re both going to be grandmothers!”
Maureen grinned. She tickled Darcy under the chin and laughed.
“What do you remember?” Wren asked.
Uncertain, Maureen said, “I fell asleep on the roof. I woke up to the smell of smoke. I saw the fire and I tried to call down but nobody could hear me.”
“Pilar did insist on playing music so loud,” Wren complained.
“And then there was a rumble, like the ground beneath me was alive, and fire seemed to explode everywhere.” Maureen hugged Darcy close to her chest. The cat leaned into her, giving her all the warmth and comfort he could. “Then Brock appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. The fire smoldered behind him, and I could see his wings spread out and his halo glowing. He pulled me into his arms and then we were here and I passed out.” She shivered and gave Darcy a kiss on his head. “They knew I was here. They just knew. They started turning up about an hour ago until all my babies were here.”
“One of your babies is a gigolo,” said Casper.
Darcy glowered at Casper before saying, “Grey cat and I are adults. We can do what we wish.”
“I will claw your eyes out.”
Maureen laughed and kissed Darcy again. “Isn’t it cute when they argue like this?”
Both cats hissed at each other, but stayed where they were. Casper’s fur stiffened under her hands. He was angry, ready to attack at any moment. If the tension didn’t break then there was going to be a fight.
“Can all the male cats in here talk?” Wren asked.
“This house smells like pee!” one of the cats announced.
“That’s because I piddled in the corner,” said another cheekily.
Maureen blushed. “I’ll clean that up later.”
So much for not wanting more cats in the house.
MAUREEN FELL ASLEEP on the sofa, her blanket of cats keeping her warm. Wren left her to it. She needed a shower before she had to head into work. She still stank like smoke and her hair was a chaotic mess.
“Are you going to chastise me for saving her?” Brock asked as she headed up the stairs.
She stopped and turned to him. “You did the right thing.”
He appeared indecisive for a moment before he said, “Can I tell you a secret?”
Curious, she sat down on the stairs.
He continued. “I was sitting at home, watching Lucifer on Netflix, when I heard Maureen call for help. It was the strangest feeling. I knew I had to go to her.” He had this amazed look on his face, like he’d been witness to something extraordinary. “I’ve never experienced anything like it before. I saved her!”
Wren was a little confused. “You’re not a trainee like Fiona. You’ve been an angel for a while. Are you telling me that Maureen is the first person that you’ve saved?”
He nodded. “It felt really good. Maybe this was my purpose in being here. Maybe you were just a red herring after all.”
“I thought your purpose was to find out who wanted to kill Maureen?”
“That’ll come in time. I can feel good knowing I saved a life, right?” He smiled and walked away.
Just as Wren was about to get in the shower, she received a phone-call from her mother. She considered not answering it. The last thing she needed was a hysterical Dot blubbering down the phone at her.
“What happened?” Dot cried. “Are you okay?”
Wren smiled. Over the next half an hour she received concerned calls from Uncle Camden, Reba, and then finally Benedict. He was the only one she really wanted to talk to.
“I’m coming right over,” he announced. “I’ll even put up with Brock.”
“I’m about to get in the shower,” she told him. “I stink.”
“I could join you.”
It was a tempting offer, but she wanted their first time together to be something more romantic than an awkward quickie in the shower.
“Come see me in the Metropolitan later,” she said, turning on the hot water. The warmth and the steam invigorated her. “We can talk then.”
“I hope your angel is looking after you,” he said.
“I’m sure he has a wonderful breakfast waiting for me.”
He did have a wonderful breakfast waiting for her, which was a bit of a surprise. There was scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, English muffins, pancakes, and waffles. None of them were burned. In fact, they all looked practically perfect in every way. It was a veritable buffet of sumptuous food.
“Have you been burning the breakfast on purpose just to annoy me?” she asked Brock, sitting by the kitchen table. She picked up a waffle and took a bite. It was buttery, with just a hint of maple syrup. “This is wonderful!”
“I made it,” said Maureen. There was a cat on her lap, Darcy as usual. She was feeding him tiny slithers of bacon. “It was the least I could do.”
“You’ve been through enough,” said Wren. “You should be taking it easy.”
“Your waffle iron was still in its box, unused.”
Wren shrugged. “I couldn’t be bothered.”
“You look really tired. I thought you were going to wash your hair and have a shower?”
Wren smiled, savoring Maureen’s rudeness. She’d gladly put up with it for the rest of her life if it meant her friend was safe.
Brock sat down and started buttering some toast. One of Maureen’s cats jumped on his lap and looked up at him with wide, adoring eyes. He patted it gently and it started to lick his fingers.
“Yummy butter,” the cut purred.
They continued to eat their sumptuous breakfast, not talking, just savoring the food. Eventually they were joined by more cats, all of whom wouldn’t take no for an answer regarding whether they could jump on the table or not. After a while Wren got fed up of trying to move talking felines off of her plate and left them to it. She didn’t know how Maureen coped with so many.
“What are you going to do now?” Wren asked Maureen.
“I don’t know,” Maureen admitted. “I don’t have a home and someone is still trying to kill me.”
“You can stay here as long as you like.” Wren grimaced as one of the cats started coughing up a hairball on her pristine kitchen table. “As for whomever is trying to kill you... we firmly believe it’s Rosa, your boss’s mistre
ss. The police are looking for her now.”
One of Maureen’s cats started licking out of the butter bowl. She’d have to throw that out later.
She really lets her cats do anything.
“Why would Rosa want to kill me?” Maureen asked.
“You tell me,” said Wren. “You used to know her.”
Maureen looked at her like she was crazy. “I have a very good memory. I would’ve recognized her if I’d known her. I don’t know her.”
“There was a picture of you and Rosa as children at her apartment. You were about ten or so, and you standing outside the opera house in London.”
Maureen smiled and nodded her head. “That was a good time.”
She started pouring some maple syrup onto some pancakes. Wren and Brock waited for an answer, but Maureen was content to keep on ignoring them.
“Well?” Wren asked. “Are you going to elaborate?”
“I used to be a ballet dancer,” Maureen revealed. “I travelled all around the world with my company for years. But I still don’t remember Rosa.” She seemed to be in deep thought for a while as she chewed on a pancake. “I did have a best friend called Rosalind, but I haven’t seen her in years. When I quit ballet soon after the London trip she refused to speak to me again.” She shrugged, pretending it didn’t matter, but Wren knew Maureen. She was still hurt by it. “Rosalind can’t be Rosa. They have different color eyes and hair and facial features. It’s impossible.”
“Mr. Barr told us that Rosa had extensive plastic surgery,” said Brock. “I think Rosalind is Rosa, and she only dated Barr so she could spy on you.”
Maureen ignored them and continued eating. There was something she wasn’t saying about her and Rosa. If Maureen didn’t want to say something, she wouldn’t. This was going to be a very difficult conversation.
“Anyway, I need to get dressed,” said Wren, standing. She’d work on Maureen later when she had the time. “Another busy day at the coffee shop awaits.”
She needed to keep an eye on Maureen. There was no way she was going to allow her to stay at home. She’d drive Brock nuts and he’d end up flitting away and leaving her to her doom.
She suddenly had a sneaky idea. It might not work, but it could be the only thing that might make Rosa come out of hiding. She’d need the sheriff to work with her to make sure it all went according to plan.
Sheriff Fisher was there within twenty minutes. He berated her for not telling them that Maureen was alive but he understood. Now all Wren had to do was inform him of her risky plan.
“What if we don’t tell anyone that Maureen is alive?” Wren suggested. “What if we tell everyone that she’s dead?”
Maureen shrugged and said, “I don’t mind.”
“You want to flush out Rosa?” said the sheriff.
“She might turn up to the funeral,” said Wren. “If she hates Maureen that much I’m positive she’ll come, just to see for herself. It’s worth the risk.”
“It’s up to Maureen,” said the sheriff. “It means staying inside here and letting the world think she’s dead for the foreseeable future.”
Wren looked at her friend. She didn’t appear to be having any emotional trouble with this decision, but with Maureen it was hard to tell. She normally didn’t show much emotion.
“I want Rosa caught,” Maureen stated. “It might help us find Keegan.”
“If he’s still alive,” said Brock. They all glared at him until he said, “Sorry.”
Maureen stroked Darcy, purring contentedly on her lap like Blofeld’s cat. It was time to organize a funeral.
Chapter 18
Despite Maureen’s apparent death, Wren still had to go into work. She figured it would be a good test to gauge if people believed her grief was genuine or not. She didn’t like the idea of getting sympathy from her friends but for the plan to work people had to truly believe Maureen was dead.
“Are you okay, Wrenny?” Uncle Camden asked. He was out walking his dog, a giant Saint Bernard called Cathy.
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
He pulled her into a hug and said he’d be there for her. Wren felt like garbage.
The next person she met was Wanda on Main Street. She’d popped out to buy some more flour for her scones.
“Maureen really was a great woman,” said Wanda.
“I know,” said Wren.
She pulled her into a hug and said she’d be there for her. Wren felt like garbage.
By the time Wren reached the Metropolitan, she wanted to go back home. She wasn’t sure she could keep up the charade any longer. How was she supposed to carry on for days, maybe a week? How could she attend Maureen’s funeral?
This is for Maureen and Keegan. You have to do this.
She unlocked the coffee shop door and headed inside. She was about to lock the door behind her when she noticed Ginger heading her way. She didn’t look too good. Her eyes had bags under them and her hair was a mess.
“Can we talk?” Ginger asked as she opened the door.
Wren sighed. “Fine. Come in.”
She came in and looked about the place in wonder. That was always a person’s reaction when they viewed the inside of the Metropolitan for the first time. It resembled the inside of a spaceship as imagined by B-movie directors in the 1950s, all silver and shiny.
“I couldn’t stay at that place they have us staying a moment longer,” Ginger complained, scratching her arm anxiously. “And I didn’t feel like going to work. I just had to go for a walk to clear my head.”
“What did you want to talk about?” Wren asked. “Talk while I work. I’ve got lots of stuff to do.”
Ginger leaned against the counter as Wren started turning on all the machines.
“The fire might be all my fault,” Ginger blurted out.
“What makes you think that?” Wren asked. “The police haven’t said anything. It could be an accident for all we know.”
“When I went to check out Maureen on the roof I noticed something odd,” said Ginger. She fidgeted a bit before continuing. “I saw that Maureen’s door was half open. If you know Maureen like I do, then she wouldn’t leave her door open. I think someone was in there.”
Ginger was right. Maureen was a stickler for security and having everything in its place.
“Did you check things out?” Wren asked.
Ginger shook her head. “I didn’t. I wish I had. Maybe then Maureen might not be...”
“Maybe Maureen left the door open this one time. We don’t know. We might never know what happened.”
“I think I ought to tell the police this.”
Wren agreed, and Ginger left for the police station.
Was someone in her apartment? Was that where the fire started?
Ginger had a lucky escape. If she’d gone into the apartment, then Rosa might have killed her.
The door opened and Aarna and Reo entered. They were both chatting happily, excited and bubbly as usual. They obviously didn’t know about Maureen. She hated to burst their bubble but they needed to know.
“Did you not hear about Maureen?” Wren asked them. It was easy to act sad. She just thought about Keegan.
“What happened?” Reo asked.
“Did one of her cats die?” Aarna asked. “Oh no. She loves her cats.”
She told them that Maureen was dead. Both of them burst into tears.
“I was staying at Aarna’s because we were at The Good, The Bad, and the Fabulous all night and we were drunk and...” Reo was becoming very emotional, and Wren felt such a cow. “Oh no...”
“Poor Maureen,” said Aarna.
Wren went and hugged them both, crying again herself. Her emotions over the past few days just poured out.
Aarna wiped her eyes with a Kleenex. “We have to stop this. Maureen wouldn’t want us being this silly. She’d think we were mad.”
“Who’s looking after her little kitties?” Reo asked.
“I have them for now,” Wren told him. “But I can�
��t keep them forever. There’s just too many of them.”
Wren returned to work, pushing herself into her activities to keep her mind off things. Aarna dithered, occasionally crying, dropping things. Reo got on with it, though he was still a little shell-shocked.
When Lenny arrived with boxes of baked goods he asked to speak to her alone in the office. She wasn’t sure what it was about but he looked serious. His worrying over Keegan was going to give him an ulcer.
I have some need to talk.
“Sheriff Fisher told me everything,” Lenny announced once the office door was closed. “It’s kind of a mad plan but I think it’ll work.”
“I thought we were trying to keep this under wraps,” Wren complained. She was nibbling on some type of coconut macaroon that Lenny had made this morning. “Yummy. This is delicious.”
“I was experimenting with coconut,” said Lenny. “Never mind that. How far along are we with Maureen’s funeral? We need to have it as soon as possible.”
“The sheriff said he’d get back to me,” Wren answered. “There’s a lot to organize at such short notice.”
He sat down and put his head in his hands.
“I went into work this morning,” he said. “But I was so preoccupied that Reba sent me home. I’m not sure what I’d do if anything happened to Keegan, but it’s starting to look like he may be dead. Rosa thinks she’s won, that she’s killed Maureen. Even if she was keeping him alive before she has no reason to now.”
“Think positive thoughts.”
“How is that working for you?”
She sighed and said, “I’ll tell you later.”
AT LUNCH TIME WREN headed back home to check on things. Gracie was tentatively leaving her nest to get something to eat. The other cats allowed her to pass, knowing she was delicate. Casper was her bodyguard, hissing at Darcy every time he tried to come near her.
Wren smiled and tickled Casper’s head. “You’re really protecting her, but I don’t think Darcy means any harm.”
“He is a foul cat,” Casper spat. “I despise him.”