The same went for the food. Even though the impromptu little gathering I’d thrown together had only a small, select guest list, I’d decided not to skimp.
“Definitely cause for a celebration,” Nick agreed. “And nothing says ‘party’ like ice cream. In fact, I’ve got enough here for an entire summer camp.” He began unpacking the three brown-paper shopping bags he’d just lugged in from the car. “Five—count ’em, five—flavors of Ben & Jerry’s. And nuts, sprinkles, chocolate syrup...”
Okay, so Nick and I hadn’t really lost our taste for sweets, despite learning that at least one well-regarded pastry chef had his hand in a lot more than pastry dough. And indulging in build-it-yourself ice cream sundaes seemed like the ideal theme for a Saturday afternoon get-together.
“Are we too early?” Betty called gaily, peeking through my open front door. She was wearing a strapless red satin party dress that hugged every curve and carrying a big white bakery box. Winston was right behind her, decked out in a yellow-and-white polka-dot bow tie that made him look extremely spiffy.
“You’re right on time,” I told them as Max and Lou skidded across the room to welcome them officially, falling over each other like clowns.
“I suppose that explains why the guest of honor is right behind us,” Winston commented, patting Lou on the head even though the Dalmatian suddenly seemed much more interested in sniffing whatever was in Betty’s bakery box than in cementing friendships.
“Suzanne?” I called.
“Jessie!” Suzanne exclaimed. She charged inside and immediately threw her arms around me. From the way she collapsed against me, I couldn’t tell if she was hugging me or just needed a way to keep from falling over.
“How can I begin to thank you?” she cried breathlessly once she finally let go. “There’s so much I want to say to you! First of all—”
And then she burst into tears.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I assured her, grinning and squeezing her shoulders. “I feel the exact same way.”
Betty glanced around. “Where’s that boyfriend of yours? Marcus, isn’t that his name?”
Kicking myself for forgetting to brief Betty, I glanced at Suzanne nervously. Much to my relief, she made a face.
“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” she said cheerfully, smiling through her tears. “That’s what my mom used to say, and she was right.” More to herself than to us, she added, “The same goes for Robert, too. I am so over him.”
“Here’s another old saying,” Betty added. Her long, dangling earrings, strings of tiny red stones so brilliant they had to be rubies, swayed from side to side. “Men are like streetcars. If you miss one, there’ll be another one coming along soon.” She frowned. “Oh, dear. I suppose they don’t have streetcars anymore, do they?”
Leaning over, Nick said softly, “So good old Marcus really meant it when he dumped Suzanne at the lowest point in her life. He didn’t even give her the satisfaction of dumping him after she realized what a jerk he was.” Frowning, he added, “I guess what they say is true: When the going gets tough, the wimps take off.”
“I’m sure it was really hard on Suzanne at first,” I replied, “especially given his timing. But at least she finally saw him for what he is.”
“She definitely deserves better,” Nick agreed. “And she’ll find better.”
“How about finding the best,” I said, only half-teasing, “the way I did?”
“Dr. Popper?” I heard someone call through all the babble.
“Virginia!” I cried, pleased to see that she’d made it. And standing beside her—actually half-hidden behind her—was Maggie Rose. “Come in! You too, Maggie Rose. Thank you both so much for coming.”
“You have a cat,” Maggie Rose announced. She pointed at Cat, who had crept into the room to see what all the commotion was but was crouched underneath a chair, choosing to spectate rather than participate.
“I have two,” I informed her. “I have a feeling you’re really going to enjoy playing with the other one. She’s only a kitten. And she’s just about your size.”
At the moment, however, the little girl was too busy fighting off an affectionate Westie and a love-starved Dalmatian, both of them acting like it had been days, not mere seconds, since Winston had given them both a professional-caliber neck-scratching. It wasn’t long before their persistence became too much for her, forcing her to give in to their demands. Fortunately, she giggled all the way through.
I turned to Suzanne. “I’m really pleased to introduce these two people. They’re the ones you should be thanking. Suzanne, this is Virginia and this is Maggie Rose.”
“I’m really happy to meet you, Maggie Rose,” Suzanne said, crouching down so she was at eye level with her. “One of the reasons is that I understand you really like animals.”
Maggie Rose nodded earnestly. “I have a new cat. His name is Beau.”
“You’re so lucky. Cats are such great pets. But there’s definitely something to be said for dogs, don’t you think?”
Maggie Rose nodded wisely, meanwhile hugging Max, who, for a change, was acting like the teddy bear he so closely resembled.
“Tell you what,” Suzanne offered. “How about coming to my animal hospital sometime to play with some of the animals we’re taking care of while their owners are away on trips? Sometimes we have ferrets, guinea pigs... even cute little potbelly pigs.”
“Can I pet them?” Maggie Rose asked seriously, wanting to make sure she fully understood the deal before making a commitment. “ All of them?”
“I’m sure there’s nothing they’d like more.”
Suzanne stood and turned to face Virginia. “I wish there was some way I could thank you, too.”
“Aw-w-w.” Virginia waved her hand in the air dismissively. “I’ve already gotten all the reward I need. There’s something to be said for making sure the bad guys get caught every once in a while.”
“My feelings exactly,” I said firmly.
I grabbed a spoon. If there was ever a time to splurge, this was it. After all, this was what I called a happy ending.
About the Author
CYNTHIA BAXTER is a native of Long Island, New York. She currently resides on the North Shore, where she is at work on the next Reigning Cats & Dogs mystery, Right From the Gecko, which Bantam will publish in 2007. Visit her on the web at www.cynthia baxter.com.
Dear Reader,
Hawaii is one of my absolute favorite places, which is why I decided to send Jessie there in her next Reigning Cats & Dogs mystery, RIGHT FROM THE GECKO. While attending a veterinary conference on Maui, Jessie discovers there’s trouble in paradise, and she soon becomes embroiled in investigating a murder—only this time, she’s amidst graceful palm trees, dramatic waterfalls, and forbidding volcanic boulders.
But Hawaii also has special significance in Jessie’s life because that’s where Nick once “popped the question”—and she ran away faster than a gecko. Thanks to the pounding surf and breathtaking sunsets, Nick turns romantic once again...and Jessie can’t help wondering if he’s going to try one more time.
So find yourself a stretch of beach—or at least a hammock—and enjoy taking an adventurous Hawaiian vacation with Jessie and Nick!
Best wishes,
Read on for an exclusive sneak peek at
Cynthia Baxter’s
new Reigning Cats & Dogs mystery,
RIGHT FROM THE GECKO,
coming from Bantam Books in 2007.
RIGHT FROM THE GECKO
A Reigning Cats & Dogs Mystery
by Cynthia Baxter
On sale in 2007
Governor Wickham,” one of the reporters called out, “Nan Higginson from the Honolulu Star-Bulletin. Have you made a decision yet about whether you’ll run for re-election in November?”
Flashing perfect teeth that were an orthodontist’s dream, he answered, “Let’s just say it’s not out of the question.”
The entire room trembled from the whistle
s and cheers that followed.
“Governor, what will your platform be if you do decide to run?” a woman clutching a KITV microphone asked.
The tall, silver-haired politician frowned for a moment as if he were giving her question careful consideration. And then, his eyes shining merrily, he replied, “That I’ll continue doing the same good work for the people of Hawaii that I’ve been doing all along!”
This guy must spend hours practicing in front of a mirror, I thought, shaking my head.
I’d suddenly had enough of politics. Shopping for aloha shirts was beginning to sound much more appealing. In fact, I’d just turned away from the action, intending to slink out of the ballroom to find Nick, when I noticed a tiny young woman with large blue eyes and short, spiky light brown hair that gave her a pixie-ish look. I would have thought she was a teenager who’d wandered into the wrong part of the hotel if it hadn’t been for the small tape recorder in her hand. I watched her make her way toward the governor with a fierce determination that reminded me of my terrier, Max. Especially when she planted herself directly in front of him.
“Governor Wickham, Marnie Burton, Maui Dispatch . Do you feel that the arrival of a big bio-tech firm on an island that most people consider paradise is a major step in the wrong direction?”
I noticed that the governor’s smile faltered for the first time since I’d entered the room. But only for a moment. He turned away, suddenly absorbed in waving to the people in back.
As he and his entourage strode by, the aide on his left, the one with the red hair, passed right in front of the reporter who’d asked the troublesome question. As he did, I noticed a sudden movement. Before I had a chance to figure out what was happening, I saw the reporter lose her balance. The tape recorder flew out of her hand, and she cried out as she fell backward toward a huge potted plant.
“Oh, no!” I cried as I watched the back of her head hit the sharp edge of the metal pot. The necklace she was wearing broke from the impact, sending dozens of beads flying into the air like fireworks.
Instinctively I rushed over to help. “Are you all right?” I demanded.
She let out a moan. “Ooh! My head!” As she started to stand, she muttered, “That jerk!”
“Don’t move,” I instructed. “I’ll get security.”
“Jeez, no! Don’t do that!”
“Then maybe I can help. Here, let me take a look.” Gently I moved the young woman’s hand away from her head. She flinched as I touched a large bruise that was quickly swelling to the size of a small snowball.
“You’ve got yourself quite a bump,” I informed her.
I glanced around, expecting someone else to come forward to help. No one did. In fact, the rest of the crowd was already streaming toward the double doors and out of the ballroom.
“You’ve got to get some ice on that.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine. Really. I should follow him—” As she tried to stand up, she swayed uncertainly.
“I don’t think so,” I replied, grabbing her under the arms. “You might have a concussion. I’ll find someone to take you to the hospital.”
“No way! I’ll get stuck in the emergency room for hours, and I’ve got to write my article. It’s not every day I get a chance to do a big story like this.”
“In that case, why don’t you come up to my room so we can put some ice on that bump? At least you can lie down for a few minutes.”
“That’s really nice of you,” Marnie replied. “I guess I probably should. But just for, like, five minutes.”
As we crossed the lobby, I spotted Nick in the gift shop. After setting Marnie down on a bamboo couch, I scurried over. Not only did he have three Hawaiian shirts draped across his arm, their tags fluttering like butterflies, but he’d moved on to the display of macadamia nuts.
“Cinnamon macadamia nuts,” he greeted me. “Does that sound like something we could get addicted to?”
“Definitely,” I replied. “But right now I’ve got a bit of a disaster to deal with. A reporter I just met—her name is Marnie Burton—tripped and got bonked on the head. I’m going to bring her up to our room and get her some ice.”
“Whoa. Anything I can do?”
“Thanks, but I can handle it.”
“In that case, I’ll be up soon.”
Ten minutes later, Marnie Burton was stretched across the king-sized bed in my hotel room with her shoes off and a plastic bag of ice resting on her forehead. I was about to suggest the hospital one more time when she mumbled, “I’ve got to get out of here. Mr. C is counting on me.”
“‘Mr. C?’”
“Mr. Cantwell, my editor. He’s counting on me to get this story in by tonight. Especially since Tim—he’s the photographer—was covering another story this afternoon so he couldn’t be here.” Sounding apologetic, she added, “The Maui Dispatch is kind of a small newspaper. Number two to the Maui News.”
“Sounds like a great place to learn the business, though,” I offered encouragingly, even though I basically had no idea what I was talking about.
But from the grateful look on Marnie’s face, I realized that, somehow, I’d gotten it right. “That’s exactly what I thought!” Peering out at me from under the ice pack, she said, “You’re being so kind. Who are you, anyway, my guardian angel?”
“Sorry. Guess I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Jessica Popper. I’m here for the veterinary conference.”
“The AVMA, right? I noticed the sign in the lobby. I’m Marnie Burton from the Maui Dispatch—” She stopped herself. “Sorry. Habit. That’s what happens when you’re working your butt off, trying to live out your lifelong dream of becoming a reporter. Although at the moment, I’m wondering if I should have followed my mother’s advice and stayed in Ellensburg, Washington, and become a nursery school teacher instead. But when I found the job on Monster-dot-com, I figured what the heck.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Two years.”
“And how do your parents back in Ellensburg feel about that?”
She made a face. “Not exactly supportive. In fact, they haven’t talked to me since I left. Not even a birthday card.”
“You must feel awful about that.”
She shrugged. “I’m still hoping they come around, once they find out what a success I’ve become.” Grinning, she added, “That is, once I actually manage to become a success. In the meantime, at least I’ve got my boyfriend, Ace, to keep me from getting too lonely.”
“Ace? Are you serious?” I hadn’t meant to sound stuffy, but somehow the words just popped out sounding that way.
Fortunately, she laughed. “I get the same reaction from everybody. It’s not as if he’s some card shark or something. Actually, he has his own business. Body work.”
An expression of alarm suddenly crossed her face. “What time is it?”
I glanced at my watch. “Almost six.”
“Oh, no! Ace is gonna kill me!” Quickly she added, “Not that he’s not absolutely crazy about me, but he’s got a bit of a temper. I’m supposed to meet him later, after I do this other really important thing...He said he has something really important to talk to me about tonight.” With an impish grin, she said, “I think I can guess what it might be.”
If this boyfriend of yours pops the question, I thought, I hope you handle it a lot better than I did.
She stood up, then grimaced, as if she’d been hit with an unexpected jolt of pain. She reached up and gingerly touched the top of her head. “Ugh, my head feels like a volcano that’s about to erupt.”
“Can I get you anything?” I asked anxiously.
“I’ve got some Advil in my bag—if you don’t mind going through all my stuff. It’s in a little cosmetics bag with flowers on it.”
I looked at her black canvas bag and grimaced. It was so big that finding anything in there was guaranteed to be a challenge. But I rummaged through it until I found the small flowered bag, hidden beneath her tape recorder, cell phone, pens, ma
ke-up, notebooks, manila file folders, Band-aids, and chewing gum wrappers.
“Thanks.” Dutifully she downed the two Advil I retrieved for her, gulping down the entire glass of water. “Boy, I can’t believe that idiot John Irwin actually decked me. Jeez, what a creep! You’d think a governor’s aide would be a little more civilized!”
“I’m sure it was an accident,” I assured her.
Marnie’s blue eyes widened. “I’m not.”
I tried to hide my confusion. “Surely you don’t think someone from the governor’s office would do something like that on purpose!”
“Are you kidding? One of the first lessons I learned in the newspaper business is that things are rarely what they seem,” she insisted. “Especially on Hawaii.”
As if she’d suddenly remembered something, she raised her hand to her throat. “Oh, great.”
“What’s wrong?”
“My favorite necklace. It’s gone!”
“I saw it break when you fell. Beads went flying everywhere.”
“They weren’t beads. The necklace was made of little shells, dyed these really cool colors. A native woman who lives out in the middle of nowhere makes them. They sell them in Lahaina, at one of the jewelry shops that specializes in the work of local artists. That necklace was one of the first things I bought myself when I got here. Darn!”
“I noticed you wearing it,” I commented, sharing her regret. “It was really pretty.”
“It matched these earrings—see?” She pointed at the cluster of tiny shells, dyed pastel colors, bobbing below her earlobes. “Oh, well. Maybe I can get her to make me another one. Whenever I get the money, that is.”
She began rummaging through her bag, pulling out one thing after another before finally retrieving her tape recorder, not much larger than the palm of her hand. “I hope this stupid thing fared better. I’ve been having enough trouble with it lately without dropping it on the ground. I finally figured out that I have to check it each time—”
The sound of her own voice interrupted her. “...Feel that the arrival of a big bio-tech firm on an island that most people consider paradise is a major step in the wrong direction?”
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