“Sounds like a treat.”
Regina’s voice was so tried that Marjorie was shot through with guilt. The woman was only here because of her. Why hadn’t she done the decent thing and waited until Monday when her friend was back on duty?
“Because there’s a murderer on the loose,” Marjorie whispered as she walked into the chilly night air.
Back home, the plate of leftover baking that had been the temptation to bring Regina out served as Marjorie’s supper. She heated a scone and a muffin in the microwave and ignored the extra padding folding up at her waistline as she sat down to eat.
“Come and join me,” she told the hovering kittens, patting the seats to either side. “Tonight would be a great time for company.”
In fact, if she hadn’t been so lazy, a call to Esme wouldn’t go astray. Not to chat over what she’d been doing today but just a general natter and a proper thank you for covering her absence in the cafe that morning.
Sometime during that line of thought, Marjorie must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew, the downstairs door was kicked open.
She jumped to her feet, heart pounding. Kittens tumbled off the sofa, some stalking to the head of the staircase, others arching their backs with their fur standing on end.
Over the thumping pulse in her eardrums, Marjorie struggled to hear. Even her tiptoed steps to the head of the stairs were muffled by the rush of blood.
You’re overreacting. The door must have blown open in the wind.
Except the night outside was still.
Call the police.
A much better idea. Marjorie felt in her pocket but found it empty. She must have put the phone into her purse but where had she left that?
She closed her eyes. She’d picked up the plate of scones and muffins, leaving her purse on the table in their place.
Downstairs.
Whoever had just broken in could reach it, but she couldn’t. Marjorie had to write that course of action off.
Hide under the bed.
A great idea. Just the kind of idea her three-year-old self would have dreamed up. What could possibly go wrong?
Pushing the thought from her head, Marjorie tried to come up with another plan. She could go out the window, the same route her intruder had taken the other night. She could go downstairs, armed with an empty plate and a herd of terrified cats. She could stay still and let whatever happened wash over her while she took no action at all.
Her stomach might slip out the window, but her hips wouldn’t stand a snowball’s chance. Marjorie picked up her empty plate, deciding that as a missile aimed at someone’s head, it wouldn’t do too badly.
“Are you up there, Ms Hardaway?” a female voice called out before breaking into giggles. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”
Candace. The same woman she’d just told the police committed cold-blooded murder.
“What do you want?” Marjorie yelled out, grateful her voice sounded strong even as her arms and legs trembled. “I’ve called the police and they’re on their way.”
“Really.” A smashing noise came from the stairwell and Marjorie rushed over. Her precious cell phone was being crushed under Candace’s heel. “Unless you’ve got a landline stashed away somewhere, I doubt it.”
She could have had one. The line had been offered to her when she first moved in. But Marjorie hadn’t wanted to pay for the monthly charges when she made most of her calls through her mobile.
Why hadn’t she had the foresight to think of a day someone would break in and threaten her life? She might die because of a measly fifty dollars a month.
“It’s too late,” Marjorie shouted. “Whatever you think you’re doing, it’s too late to stop anything from happening. I’ve already told the police everything. They know you put cyanide in the sugar bowl. They know you tried to frame Leah.”
“You’ve been a very busy woman, haven’t you? When I met you, I never took you for the sort to stick her nose into other people’s business.”
“Leah Parish is a friend of mine. You shouldn’t have tried to pin the murder on her, then I would’ve left well enough alone.”
“A friend of yours. Like Esme’s a friend of yours. Like Braden. Tell me, Mar-jo-rie, is there anyone in this township who isn’t a friend?”
“You.”
The curt response earned a chuckle, but Marjorie saw the doubt in the younger woman’s eyes.
“Whatever you had planned, it won’t get you out of trouble. You can kiss any money from Angelica’s estate goodbye. They don’t pay out inheritances to murderers.”
“I didn’t need an inheritance, sweetie. All I needed was my aunt’s signature on a real estate deal, so I didn’t have to refund the generous finder’s fee.” She sighed. “All those boring Sunday afternoon visits and what did it amount to? Aunt Angelica couldn’t even follow through on the one thing I asked her to do.”
“How much?” Marjorie stood at the top of the staircase, hands planted on her hips. “How much was Angelica’s life worth?”
“Not enough,” Candace spat. She moved high enough up the steps for Marjorie to see her expression in the light from the lounge. The young woman’s face twisted with rage and despair. “It’s never been enough.”
“Why didn’t you just ask your husband for the money? You’re not hard up. Why did it matter so much to you?”
“My husband.” Candace laughed in a shrill tone, sounding insane. “He might sound devoted but he’s still shagging his business partner whenever the mood takes him. I’ve seen the application for divorce in his briefcase.” She waved her arms to either side. “He’s about to trade me in for a younger model and I don’t get a red cent in a divorce because of our prenup. Well, if he can be that ruthless, so can I.”
Candace moved up another step. Now there were only two remaining until she came face to face with Marjorie. There was a weapon in her hand. Something glinted in the low light.
Stall her for goodness sake!
“Did Angelica find out about the finder’s fee? Is that why she thought Shaun Hayes would murder her?”
“My aunt discovered it on the same day Leah Parish yelled at her.” Candace’s lip curled. “If only that silly beekeeper had left well enough alone, everything would’ve been fine.”
“Fine? What? Until the next time you needed money?” Marjorie’s body was still shaking but from outrage now, rather than fear. “Angelica wasn’t a cash machine that had gone wonky. She was a living breathing human being!”
Candace lunged at her and Marjorie sidestepped, letting the woman crash into the balustrade. “And now you’re threatening me just because I told the police what I knew? You’re despicable.”
The younger woman lunged again but Monkey Business stepped forward, neatly tripping her and sending her plunging down the stairs. Her body spun over and over, tumbling halfway down.
Candace’s head struck the wall with a solid thump, halting her fall.
“Good kitty,” Marjorie called out as she scrambled down the staircase after Candace. She stepped over the prone body, then continued down and out the front door, screaming for help.
“Esme! There’s a murderer in the café!”
Outside lights went on in the neighbouring property and Marjorie breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Jerry’s silhouette in the doorway.
“Call the police,” she yelled. “The woman’s crazy.”
When she was safely inside Esme’s house, Marjorie stared back at the dark windows of the café. “Candace fell downstairs,” she whispered. “Better call the ambulance as well.”
“The police are on their way,” Jerry said, grabbing a torch from the hall closet. “I’m going over there to see what’s happening.”
“No, you’re not,” both women said in unison, clutching hold of his arms to stop him leaving.
“Wait until the police arrive and confirm it’s safe,” Marjorie said. “I’ve got enough to worry about with my kittens still over there. We don’t need
you adding to the confusion.”
“But…” Jerry waved the torch. “Being manly and all that.”
“If you want to be the big man, stay here and protect us,” Esme said, snuggling in under his arm. “Although from the sound of it, Marjorie’s already sorted out the danger.”
“Not me,” Marjorie said, watching the flashing lights of two police cars pull into her driveway. “That was all down to Monkey Business. He’s a fearless wee cat.”
Chapter Thirteen
Esme walked into the café, and Marjorie almost laughed as her friend did a double take. She’d been deep in conversation with Shaun Hayes but waved the masseuse over to their table.
“Sorry to intrude,” Esme said, coming closer and sitting down beside them. “But I thought you’d want to know what happened in court today.”
“Is that Candace’s sentencing?” Shaun asked, his face impassive.
“Just the pre-sentencing hearing,” Esme said, rolling her eyes. “Since she pled guilty, I thought everything would be in and out and done but the court dates seem to go on forever.”
“What happened?” Marjorie prompted, more interested in the scurrilous details than a condemnation of the country’s justice system.
“Her lawyer trotted out a score of character witnesses and Leah Parish made an impact statement.”
Marjorie sat up straight, surprised. “I thought only victims could do that?”
“Her lawyer made a persuasive case that she was a victim. Considering Candace set her up to take the blame for the crime, she had a good point.”
“Wonderful. I hope Leah gave her what-for.”
“It was very emotional and very persuasive. If the judge didn’t know beforehand he was dealing with a deviant psychopath, he does now.”
“Hello,” Braden said, sneaking in before Marjorie even knew he was at the door. “I guess you’re getting a run-down on the action today?”
“Yep.” Marjorie gave him an awkward half-hug, restrained by the chairs. “If I’d known Leah would speak, I’d have been there.”
“All I can say is that I’m glad I’m out of all dealings with Candace,” Shaun said, shuddering. “Considering how much time and energy I spent working on the plans for a development that never should’ve got started.”
“You’re not going through with it?” Esme pulled her mouth down in surprise. “I thought now the property’s passed to Connor, you’d be back on board.”
“Candace lied on every report I ordered regarding the venture.” Shaun tugged on his earlobe, blinking rapidly. “She had her finger in so many different pies, trying to ensure the entire thing went ahead.”
“Just to get a finder’s fee,” Marjorie finished up. “It’s disgusting what money can make some people do.”
“Only if they’re disgusting people, to begin with,” Shaun said, a small furrow in his brow. “It’s not as though it changed her moral fibre.”
“Besides, if you want to get down to brass tacks, it was lack of money that turned Candace into a monster,” Braden said. “If she hadn’t made a string of bad investments and changed her initial inheritance to dust, she wouldn’t have become so ruthless.”
“It’s ironic she insisted on the prenup when she married Connor,” Esme said, her expression oddly satisfied. “She started off terrified he’d get his hands on all her money and ended up desperate to get hold of his.”
“No chance of that now.” Marjorie had heard a few things from Evie that made her glad she didn’t have to rely on the retired lawyer’s discretion to keep her secrets. “The paperwork to begin the divorce has already gone through.”
“Anyway,” Esme said, sitting back and staring from Shaun to Marjorie and back again. “What were you two talking about before I interrupted? You were as thick as thieves when I first came in.”
Marjorie nodded for Shaun to continue the explanation while she excused herself to deal with a customer. They’d almost hashed out the agreement to expand the kitten café. With the building work going ahead on the section next door, she and Shaun would make a killing by transforming the small eatery into a larger restaurant.
If she was to be built out, at least it would be by a business she co-owned.
“A date scone with butter and a cup of Oolong tea,” a young woman ordered at the counter.
When Marjorie rang up the bill on the till, she had to clear her throat to get the lady’s attention. The customer’s gaze was fixed on Monkey Business who was getting into trouble and overacting his way out of it as usual.
“I’ll bring your drink over to the table when it’s ready,” Marjorie said, handing over a tag number. She watched as the woman bumped into a chair, her eyes still entranced by the chocolate Persian’s antics.
Love at first sight. It was a familiar situation and one Marjorie rejoiced in. Usually.
As she brewed the tea, placing the leaves and water in a clear pot for the client to enjoy its subtle golden hue, she felt a pang of discomfort instead. Monkey Business might have saved her life when he tripped Candace. If the woman had continued the pursuit unharmed, Marjorie didn’t know what would have happened.
But the café was to rehouse homeless kittens. If she got into the habit of keeping each one, it would be a very different business. A crazy cat lady business.
“You know,” Esme said, wandering up to the counter. “That Shaun bloke doesn’t seem too bad when you talk to him, one on one.”
Marjorie agreed wholeheartedly. “Once he saw what harm the proposed development would do to the businesses in the area, he put an instant stop to it. I’m surprised Angelica felt so threatened by him.”
“It might be a different matter if you were keeping him from millions of dollars of revenue,” Esme said, turning to look at the man in question. “Otherwise, it’s just the effect Candace had when she was pulling his strings.”
“And we don’t know what the full recording said,” Marjorie reminded her. “We got the big juicy bits straight off the SD card but there was more on there that Braden couldn’t extract.”
“I can’t imagine she’d accuse two people of murdering her.”
“No. Neither can I. But at least Angelica set us down the trail to her real killer.” Marjorie tilted her head to one side. “The silly thing was, if Candace had come in here and asked for Sweet Callie’s collar, I would’ve given it to her without a second thought. If she didn’t have the cut to tie her to the break-in, her role in the murder would’ve gone straight over my head.”
Esme snorted. “It probably didn’t occur to the woman that something could be so easy. When you’re a master criminal, you automatically think of criminal solutions to solve your problems.”
“Hardly a master criminal.” Marjorie gave an amused snort. “Candace got caught for the first thing she did.”
As Esme pushed away from the counter, she winked. “We don’t know it was the first.”
“Here you go,” Marjorie said, setting the teapot on her customer’s table. “If there’s anything else you need, just holler.”
“With the kittens,” the woman said in a halting voice. “Are all of them eligible for adoption?”
The automatic yes didn’t come to Marjorie’s lips. When the front door banged open again, she almost breathed a sigh of relief.
“Most of them,” she babbled before rushing over to throw her arms around the new arrival. “Leah. I’m so glad to see you. Are you okay after talking in court?”
“Just a bit shaky.” The beekeeper held her trembling hand out, offering proof. “But I’m glad I told the court what effect Candace had on me. The prosecutors might ditch the obstruction of justice charge since she’s pled guilty to murder, but I still wanted the chance to explain.”
“I’m glad they let you.” Marjorie stepped back and scanned the woman from head to toe. “You don’t look like someone who was framed for murder and held in a jail cell for two nights.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“Whatever you want is on th
e house,” Marjorie announced. “And you can have a table to yourself or join in with that loud mob over there.” She jerked her head towards the table where Braden had just delivered the punchline to a joke.
“Actually, I won’t stop long,” Leah said. “But I wanted to say hello to someone in particular.”
“Ah,” Marjorie said with a raised eyebrow. “Would that someone be small and furry and coloured like your honey labels?”
“She would.” Leah gave an anxious gaze around the room. “Unless she’s already moved on.”
“Come with me.” Marjorie wiped her hands on her apron and moved over the staircase. The large dent where Candace had come to rest had been plastered and re-papered but still looked obvious to her knowing eyes.
She walked past it and went into the lounge. “I’ve never been able to settle her properly in the café. Sweet Callie just gets into fights or takes it out on the furniture.”
Marjorie gave Leah an assessing gaze. “It might take a while for her to calm down with anyone. With all she’s seen in her short life, it won’t be easy.”
“I’m not looking for easy,” Leah said, lifting the small calico kitten out of her pen. “I’m seeking something rewarding.”
As she cuddled the kitten to her chest, Marjorie couldn’t help but compare the reaction from what she usually received from the tiny cat. At first glance, it seemed Leah and Sweet Callie were destined to be together.
“In that case, let’s get started on the paperwork.” Marjorie clapped her hands and headed downstairs, just in time to see all her other friends leaving.
“I’ll call you tonight,” Braden said with a wave. “Just in case you plan on staying up past six.”
While Leah sat at a table, balancing her calico kitten and a form, the young lady with the oolong tea beckoned Marjorie over. “You said only some of the kittens were available for adoption?”
Marjorie stared at the calico snuggling up to Leah and thought of the many nights when Monkey Business had done the same with her. If she was being a professional businesswoman, the answer would be all kittens were equal and all of them were up for adoption.
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