Mission Inn-possible 04 - Raspberry Revenge

by Rosie A. Point

  “The silver fox,” I said. “What? He was handsome. Your type.”

  Gamma rolled her eyes. “Don’t talk to me about men.” My grandmother had recently dated the local veterinarian, but they hadn’t hit it off as she’d expected. Turned out, he was a bit of a bore when he wasn’t being heroic and saving animal lives.

  “I think—”

  Gamma’s cellphone buzzed in her pocket and she whipped it out. “This is She-Wolf.”

  I choked on air. She-wolf?

  “Hmm. Yes? Oh, really? Right, thank you, Lioness.”

  Lioness?

  “I’ll take that into account. Keep well. Bye-bye now.” Gamma hung up and stowed her phone.

  “When did you join the animal kingdom?” I asked.

  “Humans are part of the animal kingdom, Charlotte. Really, you should know this. Didn’t you take biology in high school?”

  “There’s no need to be mean. What was all that about? She-wolf and lioness?”

  “I’ve started a little group of friends,” she said. “They keep an ear to the ground for news. And yes, we have codenames because it’s fun. They enjoy it.”

  “And you do to.”

  “Anyway.” Gamma pursed her lips at my teasing. “I’ve just received information that Bridget Myers is in hospital. She was attacked at the theater grounds—not with a blow dart. She was hit over the back of the head.”

  “Just like with Jordan,” I hissed.

  “And Lioness tells me that there’s a strong scent of cat urine at the grounds,” Gamma said. “She went to check it out herself.”

  “Is Lioness a chef, per chance?”

  “No, dear. I wouldn’t involve Lauren in something like this. That would be irresponsible.” Gamma tapped the mascara tube on the desk, then tossed it aside. “I think we she should go to Belle-Blue’s cattery. The new man in the picture, the smell of cat urine, and her obsession with accusing us of being thieves add up to something… sinister. The pieces don’t fit together, but it’s the best lead we’ve got.”

  Gamma was right. Our other suspects either stayed at the inn or had just been attacked by the murderer.

  “What do you say, Charlotte? Suit up?”

  I shifted Cocoa Puff off my lap and stood up. “Suit up,” I agreed.

  Anything was better than sitting around worrying about Sunlight and the other kittens.

  24

  “We’ll take the SUV this time,” Gamma said. “We don’t want Belle-Blue spotting the Mini outside her cattery. She’ll use it as ammunition.”

  “Roger that.” I slipped on my black leather jacket over the black tank top I’d chosen from Gamma’s armor rack. The tank top was crafted from a carbon fiber that was strong yet flexible. It wouldn’t protect from a gunshot, but a knife or any sharp object wouldn’t puncture it. State-of-the art, thanks to Gamma’s many contacts outside of the NSIB.

  “We’re going to have to gain entry to the cattery. We do have cause to believe that she’s up to something.”

  “Yeah, we do. She’s acted suspiciously and the cat urine… maybe it’s not enough.”

  “Reconnaissance then,” Gamma said. “We’ll do a recon tonight and if we find anything suspicious, we’ll break-in and find our evidence. Once we have that, it’s bye-bye, Belle-Blue.” Strangely, Gamma didn’t seem that happy about it.

  I held the suspicion that my grandmother needed the challenge of a mortal enemy like Jessie to keep her on her toes. If the woman had somehow involved herself in a murder… well, that would change the status quo. Would Gossip be the same again.

  “Reconnaissance,” I agreed. “Probably for the best that we don’t endanger ourselves or the investigation right away.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Better yet, we might spot strange movement. If we can capture footage of one of Belle-Blue’s associate, or her herself, moving in and out of the place with cats that don’t belong to her…”

  “We’ll have what we need to take her down, at least for the cat theft.” Gamma sat down on the puffy stool in front of her metallic desk in the secret armory. She swiped a hand over it and a screen lit up. “I’m just going to check that the SUV is in order. Fuel levels and so on. We’ll find it parked outside the gates once we’re ready.”

  “Perfect.”

  “I’ve crafted an underground bunker in the parking area. The space that always has the sign ‘no parking’ is the one above the SUV. I hit this button,” Gamma said proudly, gesturing to her touchpad table, “and it rises from underneath. Ingenious design. My contact, Renfroe, created the design and sourced the labor. They worked under the cover of dark. If you ever need anything built, I’ll give him your number.”

  “Thanks,” I said, though I doubted I’d ever need a secret underground bunker for a car. Then again, never say never.

  “Ready?” Gamma asked.

  I tucked a pistol into a holster underneath my jacket, just in case. “Ready.”

  Gamma hit the button, then switched off the screen and checked her reflection in one of the shimmery display cases that held mannequins for her armor. “I really need to invest in some mirrors down here.”

  We hit the lights, opened the door to the basement and walked through, right into Smulder.

  My heart dropped like a sack of stones. “W-what—”

  “Brian,” Gamma said, and even she sounded shaken. “What on earth are you doing down here at this time of night?”

  “I just knew you two were going to do something irresponsible like this,” Smulder said. “The minute I heard about the cats. You’ve been walking on eggshells around me for the past two weeks, Charlotte.”

  I was at a loss for words. Carefully, I reached back and shut the door to the armory.

  “There’s no use hiding what’s in there from me,” Smulder snapped, and it was the first time I’d seen him genuinely angry in ages. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out? You two are always gossiping about cases, going out on little missions that you shouldn’t, wearing all black and carrying weapons.”

  Gamma folded her arms. “There’s no need to take that tone with us, Brian.”

  He stepped forward and jerked my jacket open. “A pistol.” He gritted his teeth. “This isn’t part of your cover, Charlotte. Let me guess, the weaponry behind that door isn’t legal, is it? If it was, you’d have told me about it.”

  This was bad.

  “Look, we can talk about this later,” I said. “We’ve got to go.”

  “Now? You’re not going anywhere. Charlie, I’m going to have to report this to Special Agent in Charge Grant. I can’t let this slide.”

  “Oh dear,” Gamma said. “Oh dear. Well, you have nothing to report. Apart from the fact that we enjoy going for late night drives dressed all in black.”

  “I can knock that door down right now.”

  “I wouldn’t do that. You’ll get hurt.”

  “And why’s that, Georgina?” Smulder asked.

  “Because, uh, well, I’ve put some contingency plans in place should anyone try to force their way through.”

  “What’s behind the door?”

  Gamma’s lips drew into a thin line. “I don’t have time for this. I understand you’re tasked with doing what you must do, Brian, but I will not stand around here and wait for the hammer to drop.” And she walked past him, shaking her head.

  “Charlie,” Smulder said.

  “She’s right. You do what you have to do, Brian, but I’ve got to go.” And if we came back to Gamma’s armory emptied, so be it. They surely wouldn’t arrest her, and if they tried, I’d do everything in my power to sweep her away.

  “I need to think about this,” Brian said, softly. “I won’t do anything yet, but I have to… Special Agent in Charge Grant…”

  “Like I said, do what you have to do.” I followed my grandmother out of the basement and into the evening air, directing my focus onto the task ahead, rather than the trouble we’d just left behind.

  25

  Hours had
passed since we’d arrived at the cattery—a double story brick home on the other side of Gossip with a sign out front that read ‘Jessie’s Cattery’ in bold orange letters. Paw prints festooned the signs, and the front yard was neatly kept. The house reminded me of a witch’s hideout, all helter-skelter, with windows that might’ve been eyes on the top floor, and steppingstones running up to the front steps.

  In the dark, the effect was more obvious, and every now and again, I’d glance up at the top windows and expect to see a ghost, ghoul or just Belle-Blue herself staring down at us from behind the lace curtains.

  But there was nothing. No strange movements or arrivals in the dead of the night.

  We parked across the street from the house, which was at the start of a dirt road that led into the surrounding fields. It was the perfect place to commit a crime.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  Gamma shifted for the first time in over an hour. She checked her phone discreetly. “4:45am.”

  “Are you OK?” I bent and retrieved a cannister of coffee we’d prepared before leaving and poured myself a cup.

  “I will be.”

  “Worried about Brian?”

  “No, I’m worried that we won’t find anything here. We should’ve waited until morning. Belle-Blue’s lazy as a sloth on a slow day. There’s no way she’ll be up and conducting illicit business at this hour.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “But we couldn’t do nothing.”

  “If only there had been fingerprints.”

  I nodded and took a sip of coffee. I offered my grandma the flask, but she waved it away.

  “Regardless, Charlotte, we’ll find who took the cats and who murdered Vaughan.”

  “You still don’t think Jordan had anything to do with it? You have to agree that his appearance at the inn was mighty coincidental.”

  “We’ve been over this,” Gamma said, not snappily. “I know you’re mistrustful of him, but we must examine the clues we have in front of us. The cat urine, Bridget in trouble, the strange—”

  “Man!” I nearly dropped my coffee. “There, look!”

  The silver fox of a man appeared at the end of the street under a lamplight. We watched him approach in the SUV’s rearview mirror. He stopped a few feet from the house and frowned at our ride before shaking his head and striding up to the front gate of the house.

  He didn’t have anything with him, but wore a long black coat and a pair of black loafers. I could almost smell the Italian leather from here.

  “What do you think?” I whispered.

  “Doesn’t look like the type who needs to steal cats to make a living,” Gamma replied, just as quietly. “The man could be a model.”

  “Told you he was cute.”

  “That’s not cute, dear, that’s manly.”

  “All right, all right, but that’s not what we’re here for, Gamma. As much as I’d love to set you up on another date,” I said.

  Gamma clicked her tongue. “With the way your love life is going, I’m not sure I’d let you.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Hush. Something’s happening.”

  The front door of the witch house had opened, and the porch light was now on. Jessie Belle-Blue stepped out to meet the silver fox—we’d have to make that an official codename at some point—bearing a cat carrier.

  “Ah-ha!” Gamma hissed. “I knew she was up to something.”

  The silver fox took the cat carrier from her, nodding. They exchanged a few words, and Belle-Blue leaned against the doorjamb, fluttering her eyelashes at him. Her oversized robe might as well have been another pashmina, especially since it was checked too.

  Finally, they parted, and the silver fox walked off with the cat carrier, back down the road whence he’d come.

  “Follow him?”

  Gamma waited for Belle-Blue to close her front door before starting the engine and doing a U-turn. She drove down the street, slowly, and paused at the corner. We looked both ways and spotted the silver fox. He was halfway down the road, walking past quaint brick homes, the carrier firmly in his grip.

  “No car,” Gamma said.

  “He wasn’t planning on making a quick getaway. What does that mean?”

  “There’s only one way to find out.”

  We kept well behind him and drove by when he entered a house on the right side of the street. After circling back, Gamma parked the SUV. We got out and sneaked toward the house in question—a single story with a single light on in one of the front windows.

  A quick hop over the fence later and we were in the front yard. A bed of flowers sat underneath the single lit window, so Gamma and I paused, crouched over and checking for any sign of silent watchers from the houses opposite.

  All was quiet.

  Gamma gestured to the window, and I stepped to one side of it, dodging flowers. The bed was dry, thankfully—no footprints left behind if we were careful to clean up after ourselves. Or we didn’t have to leave in a rush.

  My grandmother took a position on the other side of the window. We peered inside at the same moment, careful not to make a sound.

  The window afforded us a view of a living room with worn leather sofas, a TV on one wall, and a scratched walnut coffee table. Our mark, silver fox, entered the room with the cat carrier and set it down on the carpeted floor.

  The moment of truth.

  He bent and opened the front. A kitten emerged, black and white patches all over its fur, and meowed at the man.

  This has to be it. Jessie’s the one who’s been stealing the cats.

  Anger flooded through my body.

  The silver fox straightened and turned toward the window, and I ducked out of sight.

  Gamma beckoned, and we stole across the yard and back to the SUV.

  “It’s got to be her,” I said. The minute the doors were closed, and the engine started. “She’s behind it all. What are we going to do about this? We can’t report her yet.”

  “No.” Gamma went quiet, her gaze fixed on the road.

  “Georgina.”

  “Yes, Charlotte, I’m thinking,” she said.

  “Thinking what?” She was disappointed that Jessie was involved somehow—or that was how it looks.

  “We need the evidence that there’s something going on here. Just seeing her associate take a cat from the cattery doesn’t tell us anything. We need proof. Receipts, as the young people nowadays call it.”

  “They do?”

  “Oh Charlotte, you need to get out more,” Gamma said.

  “Yeah, I’ve been trying not to do that, what with the killer spy on my tail and all.”

  Gamma gave a dry chuckle. At least her sense of humor was still intact, even if Belle-Blue’s behavior had disappointed her. “We’ll come back tomorrow night. Earlier this time.”

  “But what if she’s home?”

  “I’ll make it so she isn’t,” Gamma said.

  “How? With help from this Lioness contact of yours?”

  “You just leave that to me.” Gamma’s jaw was set. “If Belle-Blue is involved in the catnapping or the murder, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  26

  The following morning…

  I knocked once on the greenhouse door then entered, nerves creeping up my throat and scratching in my belly.

  Smulder wore his soil-smeared overalls and a pair of thick gloves. He bent over the tomato vines, a watering can in one hand, and a frown wrinkling his forehead. He looked up, catching me with his liquid brown gaze, then shook his head and broke eye contact.

  “I need time to think,” he said.

  “You had all night to think.”

  “What am I supposed to do with you?” he asked. “We’ve already broken all the rules here, Charlotte. I went out on a limb for you, tried to protect you from Grant’s anger, and the first thing you do is…”

  “What? Try to protect my family? Myself? You?”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “What else do y
ou think I’m doing all of this for? Fun?” All right, so maybe a part of me enjoyed the thrill of our small-town investigations, but it was mostly about keeping everyone safe. The inn, too. “If you’d told me I’d fall in love with this place when I’d arrived months ago, I would’ve laughed in your face. Possibly incapacitated you and taken you to a doctor to get your head checked, but now…”

  “And you think letting Georgina have a collection of… you think that’s helping keep them all safe? What if someone stumbles upon it? What if she loses control or takes matters into her own hands with one of these investigations of yours?”

  “Are you out of your mind?” I asked. “You realize you’re talking about Georgina, right?” The implication hung in there—the most decorated spy in the NSIB. And he was suggesting, what, that she was senile?

  “She’s past her prime,” Smulder said. “You can’t predict that—”

  “How dare you!” I marched up to him and pointed a finger under his nose. “How dare you speak about her like that? She’s better than both of us combined. And she’s got more to lose than both of us. The inn, her friends, her life, the cats. She’s already lost the cats, and I will not let my presence here be the reason she suffers.”

  “Charlie, relax. I wasn’t trying to make out like she’s—” He cut off because that was exactly what he’d been making out.

  “I don’t care what you think about her,” I said. “You can’t report this to Grant.” I paused. “You haven’t, have you?”

  “Not yet,” he said. “I’ve been warring with it all night. I want to do the right thing.”

  “You always do the right thing, Smulder. To the letter of the law. But sometimes the right thing isn’t about following the rules. It’s about looking after the people you care about. Making sure that you have the tools to protect them when it everything is on the line. That’s what Georgina’s stash is about. Don’t you get that?”

  He fell silent.

  I folded my arms, trying not to let fear and doubt get to me. There was already so much on the line, and I needed him on my side.

  Except you never allow him to be on your side. You always keep him at arms’ length.

  The thought stuck, and I turned my head away from him. We hadn’t been on a date since the petting zoo, and we hardly spoke unless it was in passing or at one of our meetings with Special Agent in Charge Grant.