Crafts, Cat Burglars, and Murder

by Stacey Alabaster

  “Oh, poor cat,” I said.

  Natalie nodded and got her toolbox out. The first thing she decided to attack me with was a long grey nail file with a texture like industrial strength sandpaper.

  Natalie raised her eyebrows as she got to work. “Do you get regular manicures, George?”

  “Er, this is my first one in a while, I have to admit.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said with a cheerful grin. “My products can handle anything.”

  “You keep saying your products?” I said, taking a little interest.

  Natalie smiled proudly. “Yes. I have my very own brand that I am planning to launch! I mean, I don’t quite have FDA approval, but I still sell some of them locally, down at some of the local shops and markets, and they do really well! All natural products of course, all locally sourced and made.”

  I was impressed. “Well, it’s good to see such an enterprising young woman. I’m more than pleased for you to test your products out on me,” I said with a smile, while she finished up the filing part of the process and moved onto the bottom coat of varnish.

  “This is just a clear coat to create a solid base,” Natalie explained as she picked up a small jar of clear liquid and shook it. “It will help the next layer go on smoothly and prevent the color from chipping or fading.”

  “So I heard about the tragedy that took place a few more doors down, earlier this week,” I said, tutting and shaking my head as Natalie carefully applied the gloss. “That young musician died. Did you know him at all?”

  She laughed bitterly, kind of the same laugh that Mr. Key had given when I’d mentioned Andrew. I supposed he had really made himself unpopular amongst his neighbors during the course of his short life. “Of course I knew Andrew. It was a little hard to live on the same street and not notice him.”

  “Yes, I hear he had that effect on people.”

  Natalie had finished the clear, bottom coat and told me to sit and wait for it to dry. “In the meantime, you can pick the color you’d like,” she said, opening up her box. Like a concertina, there were about four levels of color to choose from, starting from the demurer cream-colored varnishes and finishing with shades in garish colors like bright blue, with glitter throughout.

  I looked through the array of colored nail polish and settled on a bright red. “Perfect!” Natalie exclaimed. “Bright colors really suit you, I can tell,” she said, nodding towards my bright bracelets as she got her tools ready.

  She started to apply the blood red varnish while I tried to ask for more information about Andrew. “Were Andrew and you friends?” asked. “This must be a hard time for you, losing a neighbor like that.”

  “Oh, Andrew and I were not on very good terms at all,” Natalie said. “He stole Banana from me!”

  I pretended to be in shock, like this was the very first I was hearing of this scandal. “My goodness! How did that happen?” I asked.

  Natalie shook her head, looking furious as she recounted the story. “It was about a year ago. I was calling and calling Banana to come back into the house for his supper, as he always came in for his food at seven o’clock on the dot. But this night, no matter how loud I called his name or how many times I tapped on his tin of cat food, he just didn’t come home!”

  “Oh, dear. Then what did you do?”

  “I thought he was just hiding, or maybe he’d got a bad fright and ran away, so I left the back door open for the night and just went to sleep, hoping he would come back overnight. But the next day, he still wasn’t here.”

  She looked incredibly distressed as she thought back to this terrible night. Or at least, I’d assumed it must have been a terrible night for her. I know that when Casper went missing, I was frantic, almost sick with distress.

  “I hung up fliers all over the neighborhood,” Natalie continued. “But, I thought, what’s the point? You know. Because everyone in the area knew Banana was my cat, and he had a collar and tag on with my contact details. So if someone had him, why hadn’t they already returned him to me?”

  I had a feeling I already knew the answer, but I had to pretend I was hearing all this for the first time. Not that Dylan had, exactly, given me the clearest account of events in his drunken state.

  “For days, I walked up and down the street with his tin of food, calling out his name. I left his food out every night, hoping he might come back. But after a week, there was still no sight of him and his food had remained untouched.”

  I nodded. “The same thing happened when my dog Casper went missing,” I said, feeling a little sad to recount the time she had been gone. I empathized with Natalie’s story. I couldn’t believe that Andrew was evil enough to steal someone’s pet and keep it from them for over a week! “I left the food out hoping and praying she would come back on her own, but she didn’t.”

  Natalie’s eyes went wide. “And what happened to your dog? Did you find her?”

  I nodded a little uncertainly. “Well, in the end, I had to be a little more proactive. Go and find her myself. Someone had taken her.”

  Natalie now realized how much the two of us actually had in common when it came to stolen pets.

  “My goodness!” She placed her hand to her chest, over her heart. “It wasn’t Andrew Combs who took your pet, was it? Because that is the person who took mine!”

  I shook my head. “No. Someone entirely different. But, did I hear you right, just now? Did Andrew really steal your cat? I can’t believe he would do something like that!”

  Natalie nodded gravely. “He had Banana locked up in his house for days. All that time he had heard me calling out for him, all that time he had seen the fliers I’d put up. And he’d kept Banana hidden away.”

  “But you got Banana back, in the end.”

  Natalie nodded and placed the varnish back down, now that she had finished. She told me to hold my fingers outstretched for a few minutes so that the polish could dry without smudging. “One day, I knocked on his door again, must have been the second or third time I’d been there, asking again, if he had seen any sight of Banana. But this time, Banana must have been let out of his cage, because he came running straight up to me.”

  “Oh my goodness. So, he really stole your cat. But why?”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea. Maybe he was just an egomaniac. Maybe he was a psychopath. Maybe he just got off of on stealing his neighbors’ pets. Who knows. All I know is that I was furious with him. I scooped poor Banana up into my arms and took him straight home, calling the cops on Andrew along the way.”

  “And what happened? Was he charged?” I couldn’t believe the police in this town would just do nothing about animal endangerment. If so, Ryan must to have been on the case.

  Natalie shook her head and scoffed. “No! He claimed that he was just looking after a neighbor’s cat that had run away, that he had been doing the right thing. And he had been feeding Banana and giving him water, so what could the cops do?”

  I nodded gravely. “I suppose there was no real way to prove that Andrew actually stole the cat.”

  “He did, though!” Natalie cried, like I was questioning her story. “Banana had a collar on, with my name and number! How could he possibly claim that he’d just been innocently looking after Banana?”

  “Oh. Don’t worry. I believe you. I know that Andrew was a cat thief. I saw it with my own two eyes. Stealing from the shelter.”

  Natalie packed the rest of her tools up in silence. I just sat there with my fingers splayed, wondering how much longer the varnish would take to dry.

  “So where is Banana right now?” I said, looking around for him. I hadn’t seen any sign of a cat while I’d been inside her house. “I’d love to meet the little man, after hearing so much about him.”

  “Oh, I don’t have him anymore,” Natalie said, waving her hand. “I gave him away to the shelter.”

  …Huh?

  I wasn’t quite sure what to say after that piece of information. In fact, I was dumbfounded. Why on earth would
Natalie go to so much trouble to get back a cat that she didn’t even want in the first place?

  “There! All done,” Natalie said, beaming as she sat back to admire her handiwork. “Are you happy with the color, George?”

  The color was fire-truck red and she was right, it did suit me. And it matched the jewelry I had on, handmade by yours truly. She’d also done a very neat and professional job. But I was sitting there feeling very uneasy indeed.

  “It’s great,” I said, trying to buy a little more time. I needed to ask more questions. “Erm,” I said, leaning forward to check out the varnish. “I was just wondering if it needed another top coat, for protecting? I’m an arts and crafter, you see, so I’m always using my hands. And I have a habit of ruining manicures.”

  “Nope,” Natalie said, shaking her head with confidence. “That varnish is the highest quality. You could be a bricklayer and you wouldn’t chip it before it wears off.”

  “Oh, it’s just that…”

  There was a knock on the door. “Oh, my next customer!” Natalie said, jumping up. “I’ll see you in a few weeks for a freshen up, George! It was lovey to meet you!”

  “But, I, um…” Shoot.

  I was already being shoved out the door to make room for the next lady. Oh. It was my new friend, Caroline, whom I had met only a few weeks earlier, coming through the door with her red hair and a wide grin. Caroline is the lady who owns the other craft supplies shop in town, the one I’d almost let take the blame for the cat adoption day when Tom had accosted me about it. Luckily, I’d owned up or this would have been a very awkward meeting.

  But instead, I left, happy in the knowledge that I could call Caroline later on that afternoon and get the inside scoop from her. She was always up for a glass of wine and a gossip.

  Only this time, we wouldn’t be talking about men, or new hairdos, or celebrity news.

  We would be talking about the murder of Andrew Combs.

  Chapter 9

  It was evening and I dropped the kitchen knife I was gripping to reply to the text I’d just received, asking me if I tomorrow would be a good time to meet.

  “More than great! See you tomorrow for lunch!” I texted Caroline back, looking forward to the meeting very much. Not just because I enjoyed Caroline’s company and her wicked sense of humor, but also because I had a feeling she would know more about Natalie and this mysterious vanishing cat of hers.

  But I still had to get through the evening in front of me, before I worried about the next day.

  It looked like my own life had finally caught up with me. I had nowhere else to be that Friday night—the shelter was closed to volunteers, there was no more stock-taking to be done at the shop, and Ryan was working all night down at the station.

  So it was just me, Adam, and the two dogs.

  I decided to play nice. Make a salad for us two humans. Adam would appreciate that. Anyway, I felt more protected with a knife in my hands.

  He came up behind me and didn’t say anything, but I could feel the silent tension between us even with my back turned to him.

  “Is cucumber okay with you?” I knew Adam could be a little bit fussy about any food that wasn’t cheese sandwiches.

  “Are we ever going to talk about what happened, George?”

  “What, precisely, are you talking about?”

  I knew very well, of course. He was talking about the fact that he’d professed his love for me. I was still hoping that if I ignored it, it might just go away. I mean, you couldn’t very well stay in love with a woman who ignored you, could you?

  But apparently Adam could.

  “I came back for you,” he said quietly, taking a beer from the fridge. I heard it open with a fizz. “And it hurts that you won’t even acknowledge that, George.”

  But I could tell something else was bothering him. Maybe something more specific. He’d been in a bad mood ever since I’d come home from the blind book date and hadn’t even glanced at the book I’d left for him on the coffee table, even though it was a spy thriller, his favorite kind. (Not really to my specific tastes.)

  “I’ve just been out of the house a lot because I’ve had a lot going on,” I said, keeping my tone reasonable while I chopped the cucumber into even slices. “I’m running a business, a cat adoption service on the side, and I’m trying to figure out who killed Andrew Combs.”

  I could see Adam out of the corner of my eye, staring at me blankly. “Can’t the police do that?” There was something very strange about the way he said ‘police,’ like he was skeptical of the fact that was even what they were called, like he was calling them by the wrong name.

  I turned back to my chopping board.

  “I know why you’ve really been avoiding me,” Adam said, cracking open another beer.

  I turned to him with the knife still in my hand, pointed towards him. “Oh really? Please enlighten me.”

  “Fine then. I saw you the other night. Kissing that police officer. Ryan.”

  Oh…shoot.

  I didn’t know what to say. I just stood there with the knife in my hand, staring at him limply.

  “It’s okay,” Adam said, his head hanging as he turned and walked away with the beer in his hand. “I’ll grab a motel for the rest of my stay.”

  What I really wanted to ask was how long that was going to be, but he was in a foul mood like a dark cloud had settled over him.

  He already had his bags packed and ready to go.

  “How are you going to afford a motel, Adam?” I asked him right as he was leaving. I was still carrying the knife. Somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to drop it.

  Adam was already stomping down the path into the dark of night.

  “Don’t worry about it, George. I got a job.”

  A job?

  Ah great. So he was planning to setup in town after all. A person who’s only planning on staying for days, or even weeks, doesn’t go and get themselves a job.

  And just where exactly had he gotten this job, anyway?

  Caroline’s manicure looked fabulous. She was slightly braver than I had been, and had chosen a youthful lavender color which looked contrasted with her dyed red hair.

  “Natalie really is talented,” I said, admiring my own nails while I picked up my fork and spoon, in anticipation for my bowl of pasta to arrive. “She was right about the quality—not a single chip so far, and it’s not like I haven’t been using my hands.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t used her before. She’s pretty much the only beautician in town,” Caroline said over her glass of rosé.

  I dug into my plate of pasta. It was a delicious creamy dish with white sauce and bacon. “I usually just paint my own nails,” I said with a shrug.

  Caroline looked at me with a little bit of amusement on her lips. “So what were you doing at Natalie’s yesterday then?” she asked, setting her glass down. She folded her hands on the table and waited for my answer. “I have been eagerly waiting to find out the answer.”

  “Hmm, just thought I’d try something a bit different,” I said, wondering if Caroline would fall for that.

  But Caroline was a clever lady and I could tell she wasn’t buying it. She totally had my number. It didn’t help that we’d met each other because I’d been investigating the death of her sister.

  Caroline wasn’t going to make it easy for me. She was going to make me come out and admit what I was doing at Natalie’s house.

  “It’s just that Natalie’s neighborhood has been quite an interesting place this week,” Caroline mused. “I hear there was a dead body found, just a few doors down from Natalie’s house.”

  I lowered my voice a little. “Okay, okay, you got me. I was there to snoop for info about Andrew Combs’s murder.”

  Caroline glanced around before she leaned in closer. I knew she wouldn’t judge me. She just wanted the dirt. She raised her eyebrows. “And did you find anything.”

  I shook my head. “But something was really strange with Natalie’s story
about her missing cat.” I couldn’t figure out why she was so worried about getting her cat back if she was just going to give it away.

  I started to explain, assuming that Caroline wouldn’t have a clue what I was talking about, but she seemed to know exactly. “Ah, that little grey cat,” she said, swirling her rosé around in her glass. “Yeah, he was a sweet cat, but naughty. Always having accidents on the carpet while Natalie was trying to work. I don’t think she ever housetrained him properly. Or he just wanted attention.”

  “Oh, so you were familiar with Banana, then?”

  Caroline nodded. “I go to get my nails done at Natalie’s every other week, and the week in between, I get my hair done there. She is the one who turned my hair from blonde to red.”

  A funny fact about Caroline and I is that we look remarkably similar, or at least, we used to, before she made the big change to red hair.

  “Hmm, Natalie did say that red was my color…” I mused, but I laughed when I saw the look cross Caroline’s face. She’d made me swear not to copy her. We needed a way to tell us apart. “I’m just kidding. I’m gonna stay my natural blonde. At least until the grey gets too much for me to handle. Then I might have to turn to an unnatural shade of blonde.”

  Especially with this younger man I am dating, I thought. I wasn’t quite ready to confide in Caroline about the kiss yet. I felt like it might jinx it or something. I wasn’t even quite sure it had really happened—I hadn’t heard from Ryan since.

  Besides, Adam already knew and he was furious about it. Who knew how other people might react.

  “Everything all right?” Caroline asked. She was looking at me in concern.

  I let out a massive sigh. It was all just too much drama to deal with. Life would be so much easier if there were no men in my life at all. I could give them all up, and just go down the shelter and adopt every last cat they had available. There’d be no cats left for vigilantes like Andrew Combs to steal then.

  Maybe having a house with a dozen cats wouldn’t be so bad. I’d kind of liked it at the craft store, not being able to walk around without tripping over a feline. Of course, Jasper and Casper would put up a bit of a fuss. In Jasper’s case, more than a bit of a fuss.