First Among Equals

by Katherine Hayton

  “You could have a ready-made mascot, right here,” Marjorie said before hustling off to break up an ownership battle between Marmalade and Monkey Business. “Honestly, you two. There’re a dozen copies of the same toy sitting on the sofa bench. Do you really need to fight over this one?”

  Both kittens stared at her in surprise, Monkey Business hitting the dramatic notes of jerking back, widening his eyes, and opening his mouth as though gasping.

  “Don’t play the innocent with me, little man.” Marjorie scooped him into her arms and placed him up on the window seat where he promptly became entranced with the birds hopping through the garden. “I know when you’ve got mischief on your mind.”

  “Isn’t that always?” Leah said with a giggle. “And don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to, putting this one in my arms.”

  She tried to hand the calico kitten back, but Marjorie danced out of reach. “Don’t blame the facilitator.”

  “You’re a cute one alright, but I’m not in a position to take on a pet at the moment.” Leah set Sweet Callie down on the floor. The kitten turned and nuzzled against her leg. “It’s just not possible, sweetheart.”

  “If you took her out with you on delivery runs, I bet she’d be a hit with your clients.”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  Marjorie backed up a step, hands in the air. “There aren’t any sides here. I’m just saying.” As she watched Leah staring down at the kitten, she bit her lip, then plunged ahead with the question she was dying to have answered. “It’s not because of who owned her beforehand, is it? Because I don’t think any bad habits had time to rub off.”

  Leah’s face turned to thunder. “Who’s been telling tales about me?”

  “I’d just heard on the grapevine—”

  “Right. And did this grapevine tell you the whole story or just the salacious parts of it?”

  Marjorie bustled behind the counter on the pretext of examining her order again but welcoming the added layer of protection. “I probably just got the highlights,” she admitted.

  “I had a fight with Angelica. Fine.” Leah put her hands on her hips and stared down at the ground. “It was ugly and I’m incredibly embarrassed about it now.”

  “I heard you were still dressed in your full beekeeping regalia.”

  Leah jerked her head up, then burst into laughter, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I was. I came straight from my hives and didn’t bother to change, I was that wild.”

  “What happened in the fields?”

  The beekeeper shook her head, her lips pressed into a firm line. “I saw the signs announcing a new development happening right next door to my bees. Can you imagine the noise?”

  “Angelica’s developing the paddocks down there?” Marjorie shook her head, forgetting for a moment the woman in question was dead. “Into what?”

  “A subdivision for new housing and—get this—a mall.”

  Marjorie wrinkled her nose. “I thought they’d died out in the nineties. Who could be silly enough to think our tiny township could keep a mall afloat?”

  “The same guy who plastered a sold sticker over your neighbouring section,” Leah said with a jerk of her head in that direction. “Shaun Hayes.”

  Just the sound of his name set Marjorie’s teeth on edge. “That lummox. Who does he think he’s building all these grand designs for? It’s hard enough to keep the businesses in town going as it is. We don’t need another retail area to compete.”

  “Especially since I heard the shop he’s building next door to you is another café.”

  Marjorie’s head swam at the words. She’d known something was being built there and that her view was at stake. Those facts alone were enough to have her concerned at the solvency of her business. The people might come for the kittens, but they also stayed longer because of the picturesque scene of the township below them. To find out now that her view was being built out by a rival business…

  “He’s out to ruin me.”

  “I’m sorry.” Leah slung an arm around Marjorie’s waist to steady her. “I thought you knew.”

  “I should have.” With a stamp of her foot, Marjorie straightened up her backbone. “I’ve put my head in the sand long enough. There must be something I can do to stop him.”

  “Unless you know a lawyer who can work for cheap, I doubt it.” Leah gave a sympathetic smile. “But if you find somebody, toss them my name as well. My bees might survive a building site next door for a few months, even a year, but with a flurry of new neighbours and a constant stream of traffic…” She shook her head. “They’ll move on to new hives.”

  “No wonder you tore strips off her in public,” Marjorie said, giving Leah a supportive nod. “I hope it made you feel better.”

  “It made me feel terrible, actually.” Leah chewed on her bottom lip. “I went back later to apologise and gave her a pottle of my best honey as a present. She didn’t seem convinced by either gesture.”

  “At least you set things right before…”

  Leah gave a huff of agreement, saving Marjorie from having to complete the sentence. Then she shook herself and beamed out a bright smile. “Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time, and yours.” She bent over to give Sweet Callie a quick stroke on the top of her head. “I guess I’ll see you in a fortnight.”

  “Keep me in the loop about the development,” Marjorie said as she walked the beekeeper to the door. Sweet Callie trotted along behind them, giving Leah’s ankle a nudge as she opened up the inner door. “Looks like you’ve got a fan.”

  “More likely, she’s making sure I leave.” Leah let the first door close and twiddled her fingers in goodbye at the calico kitten.

  Marjorie thought the truth was something quite different as the kitten pressed up against the glass while Leah opened the outside door. “Don’t worry, Callie. She’ll be back again in a few weeks. Since she seems half in love with you now, just exert your charms again and you’ll win her over.”

  With so much delicious honey on hand, Marjorie decided a tray of crumpets was needed. With one ear listening out for any arrivals, she scooted upstairs and began to whip up a batch, which would be ready for serving by the eleven o’clock rush.

  It was bad timing for the baking. The early morning customers postponed by the weather or her closed sign began turning up as soon as flour went in the bowl. Between running upstairs to keep adding ingredients and rushing downstairs when the front bell tinkled, Marjorie thought she’d probably done a week’s worth of workouts in one day.

  Still, the smell of the crumpets fresh out of the oven was her reward. Along with a ‘test’ smothered in butter and honey, just to ensure she hadn’t forgotten anything important in her hurry.

  Nope. They tasted as good as they smelled.

  The late-morning traffic arrived on time and continued unabated until two o’clock. When Marjorie had first opened the café, the flow of customers was so concentrated it surprised her. She’d abandoned the original ambition of opening later in the day and not closing until early evening. Now, she shut up shop by three in the afternoon and only spent three hours of her opening time working hard.

  Of course, there were also the hours of preparation in the morning, not to mention keeping the kittens on an even keel so they could interact with the clientele and both come away entertained.

  She’d given up hope of seeing the Armisteads that day when the couple burst through the front doors. Teal led her husband at a quick stride, her cheeks flushed from excitement.

  “We passed all the requirements,” the woman announced, placing the notification down on the counter with a flourish. “I thought the man who came around would never stop poking and prodding but he finished up and said we had the most suitable dwelling for a kitten he’d ever seen.”

  Marjorie smiled, keeping it to herself that Bobby Haggerty told the same thing to everyone who passed the rather minimal test. “I’m glad to hear it. Nimble’s been looking forward to seeing you again.
I’ll just fetch him.”

  But as she turned towards the play area, she saw Gregory Armistead had beaten her to it. He held the tabby up to his chest with such contentment on his face, Marjorie felt tears welling.

  “I’m so glad he found a good home,” Marjorie said when she was sure her voice was under control. “Do you need a carrier for the car?”

  “Already sorted,” Teal said with a wrinkle of her nose. “Not to mention, a variety of foods to test out what he likes and dozens of toys to keep him occupied at home.” She leaned over the counter, lowering her voice. “I have a bet running that all the expensive equipment we’ve bought will be overlooked in favour of the boxes it came in.”

  “There’s nothing a cat likes so much as a cardboard box,” Marjorie agreed.

  Marmalade came running up to her, wanting to stick his nose into what was happening, as usual. When he saw Nimble being taken through the first set of doors, his expression changed to one of alarm.

  As though Sweet Callie had been waiting, watching for a chance at escape, she trotted out through the first set of doors, hugging the ground between Teal’s ankles.

  Marjorie hit the counter lock for the entrance and waved at the pair. “Sorry to trap you like this, but I’ll just need to keep this one inside.” She scooped up the kitten and got a growl in response.

  “Isn’t that Angelica’s cat?” Teal asked in surprise. “On my volunteer days, I work with her niece Candace at the community centre. She said they’d looked everywhere for the kitten but nobody could find it. Did it come here from the pound?”

  “No,” Marjorie said, a bit flummoxed. What Teal said was so different to what Regina told her, she wasn’t sure how much to reveal. On the other hand, she didn’t need word getting around town she was a cat thief! “The police brought the kitten in here and asked me to look after her.”

  At the word police, Teal’s mouth pulled down and she backed up a step. She frowned at Sweet Callie, then rejoined her husband, waiting to be released.

  Marmalade head-butted Marjorie’s heels and she picked him up while pressing the button to unlock the outer door. Once the Armisteads were through, Marjorie carried the ginger Maine Coon kitten to the window and waved his paw in goodbye as Nimble made the acquaintance of a pet carrier in the back seat.

  As she watched the tabby tried to dart out of Gregory’s grip, Marjorie was tempted to offer them help. Then, with a sleight of hand she envied, Nimble was in the carrier and the car door closed. Another few seconds and the couple drove away.

  Marjorie might have stood at the window, peering after them for a while longer, if the phone hadn’t rung. She hurried back to the counter, letting Marmalade down into a pile of wool being unravelled by Sweet Callie, and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Hey, there. It’s Braden here.” The line went silent for a second, then the voice prompted, “From the other night at Esme and Jerry’s? I must see you again.”

  Chapter Six

  “I remember you,” Marjorie said with a small frown. “Why must you see me?”

  “Well, it was lovely meeting you and I thought we hit it off okay and I know you said you weren’t looking for a partner and were happy with your cats and—”

  “Would you like to go out to dinner?” Marjorie asked, smiling at the thought that if she didn’t intervene, he might talk himself into circles for a good while longer. “There’s a lovely new bistro opened up on Main Street, just past the main pool complex that I’ve been wanting to try.”

  “Oh, yes. The Cabana Banana or something. That sounds really good.”

  “How about you pick me up at six?”

  There was another moment of silence. Marjorie didn’t know if it was shock or astonishment or just Braden taking a second to think.

  “Is that okay?” she ventured when the pause lasted long enough to be concerning.

  “Yes. That’s great. That’s wonderful. It’s just very early.”

  “I have to get up at the crack of dawn to bake for the café.”

  He chuckled. “I thought the great thing about being self-employed was setting your own hours, that’s why I don’t get up until noon.”

  Marjorie gasped. “But then you’ve missed the best part of the day.”

  “Says who?”

  “Me for one.”

  “Well, we can fight it out over dinner. Or, as I’d call it, an after-lunch snack.”

  She gave a giggle. “Just as long as you get me home to bed by eight at night, I don’t mind what you call it.”

  “Eight? In the afternoon?”

  Marjorie hung up a minute later, flushed at the thought of an upcoming date. Although she’d gone to great lengths to assure Esme of her independence and enjoyment of the single life, having a meal with a nice man would be a treat.

  Speaking of the devil, Esme poked her head through the doors a half-hour later. “My client cancelled and left me with an hour free till my next appointment. Could I score a scone and a cup of tea?”

  “You can and more besides,” Marjorie said, seating her friend near the window so she could monitor the path up to the massage rooms. Only one other table was occupied, so she joined her when the drink and snack were ready.

  “What’ve you got there?” Esme said, her eyes lighting up as Marjorie set down one of the last crumpets left from the morning. Before she had time to answer, the other customer went to the counter to pay, so it took another minute before she sat down again.

  “Leah’s honey was so delicious looking this morning, I needed something to show it off. Want one?” Before Esme could answer, Marjorie split the treat in two and put half on her friend’s plate.

  When she sat back a few minutes later, a smile on her face and hands patting her belly, Esme shot her a knowing look. “Did you ask about the argument?”

  Marjorie flushed at the thought she was that transparent. “It was just a squabble. About some housing and mall development that’s going up next door to her land. Leah’s scared her bees will get sick of the hustle-bustle and fly away to some other keeper’s hive.”

  Esme pulled her mouth down at the corners. “Really?”

  There was something odd about her tone, and Marjorie gave her arm a push. “What is it?”

  “If that’s true, Leah convinced the old lady to change her mind with one shouting match. According to Candace, the deal was all ready to go through when Angelica changed her mind and pulled out. Apparently, the developer’s furious.”

  “It’s a pity the person who sold the section in front of me isn’t so easily dissuaded,” Marjorie said with a sigh. “Shaun Hayes owns that lock, stock, and smoking barrel. Leah even told me he’s planning on building a café.”

  Esme’s eyes darted away to stare into the corner and Marjorie realised her friend already knew that information. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to upset you any further,” Esme said with a guilty grimace. “But on the bright side, Jerry thinks you might have a chance at stopping him if you talk to the council. They can withdraw consent.”

  Marjorie was about to protest that she didn’t have the time or money to handle that kind of thing when she snapped her mouth shut. Angelica’s neighbour had mentioned she could call on her for a favour. That was one beauty of a small town—the residents could count on each other for help.

  “I might try that,” she said, pulling out a notebook to jot down a reminder. Mental notes were as reliable as writing in condensation on the window. “I’m amazed Leah had such an effect. She certainly didn’t realise the deal had fallen through.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if Angelica felt guilty about the effects but was too uptight to let Leah know she’d changed her mind. I didn’t have too many dealings with her, but enough to understand she kept her cards close to her chest.”

  “I should ring Leah and let her know the good news,” Marjorie said, making another scribble in her terrible handwriting. “It must be dreadful to have the prospect of losing your liv
elihood hanging over your head.”

  Her mouth twisted as she realised the description fit her own situation to a T.

  Esme’s eyes widened. “Wouldn’t it be awful if she were the one who stabbed Angelica to death, not realising all the time the problem had been sorted?”

  Marjorie sat back in her chair, blinking rapidly. Even the thought of her lovely beekeeper friend being involved made her heart race and her stomach feel jumpy. “I’m sure she had nothing to do with it.”

  “Oh, of course not. It was just a thought.”

  Something else concerned her about the suggestion but it took Marjorie a few minutes to grasp what. “Who told you Angelica was stabbed?”

  Esme leaned forward with an eager expression. “It’s all over town but I think it was Connor who told Jerry and me. Can you imagine? Such a terrible thing to happen.”

  “It is horrible.” Marjorie rubbed her belly as it began to ping and twang with resentment at everything she was being asked to imagine. “I hope the police lock up whoever did it and throw away the key.”

  “For sure. No matter how annoying Angelica might have been, nobody deserves to go out like that.” Esme leaned back in her chair, tilting the legs up and balancing by grabbing hold of the table. “A little birdie told me something about you and Braden,” she said, smiling like the cat that ate the cream.

  Marjorie rolled her eyes. “Not that you have a vested interest, since you didn’t set us up! But yes, we’re going out for dinner tonight. Or afternoon tea as I think Braden described it.”

  “I’m so glad.” Esme let her chair fall back down with a thump and clapped her hands. “If you hit it off, then we can go out on double dates together.”

  “And if we don’t, you and I can go out for dinner and leave Braden and Jerry back at home.”

  Marjorie peered out the window and tried to ignore the kittens pacing the room behind her. They’d picked up on her nerves but if she paid too much attention to them now, it would just amplify her anxiety.