“Yes, yes. You’re right.” She checked her watch. “It’s time to take our positions. Good luck. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
“Given that you literally ripped Belle-Blue’s clothes last night…”
“No need to be cheeky, dear.” My grandmother pinched my cheek, then exited the kitchen.
I entered the dusty passage in the wall, shifting the secret door so it remained open just a crack. Enough for me to keep eyes on the cat carrier and the fake Cocoa Puff. The authentic version was safely locked up in my room upstairs, with water, food, and a cracked window.
He’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.
Time passed, and I held my watch up to the sliver of light every now and again. A half an hour gone, then an hour, but I didn’t move. This had to work. It had to.
Another fifteen minutes passed, the distant chatter from the adoption event leaking through to the kitchen as more and more people arrived to look at the kittens and enjoy Lauren’s raspberry cupcakes.
Maybe it was time to give it up. If no one came, then—
The kitchen door, the one that led to the yard, opened, and I stiffened up.
Footfalls came next, and a man appeared in the center of the kitchen. He looked left and right, and I had to block the gasp that threatened to escape my lips.
The catnapper was tall and willowy, bald as an egg, with a hooked nose. Archie! Stephanie Shone’s boyfriend was the catnapper! He grabbed the cat carrier with the fake Cocoa and took off, the kitchen door slamming shut behind him.
I released the breath I’d been holding.
Of course! He worked at the theater, and he’d been there, at the crime scene, on the night of the murder. And… wait—that night, when he’d been muttering about revenge, hadn’t there been a cat there? Yeah, it had knocked a lid off one of the trash cans.
My heart thrummed in my chest.
But why? What did the cats have to do with the murder? It had to be because of Stephanie and her inheritance, right?
I crashed out of the secret passageway, squeezing between the fridge and counter and shimmying for all I was worth. Man, I really had to cut back on the cupcakes.
My phone was already in my hand. I sent a text to Gamma, then opened the tracking app we’d installed on my phone.
Archie’s red blip appeared on the top-down map of Gossip. He was headed into town.
“I’m here,” Gamma said, skidding into the kitchen on kitten heels. “Who was it?”
“Archie Groten.”
“Of course! The daughter’s boyfriend. We should’ve seen it coming.”
“But the cats. The murder. How do they correlate?” I asked.
“No time to worry about that now,” Gamma replied. “We’ve got to go after him. Catch him in the act. This is our chance to get Sunlight back, Charlotte.”
29
“He’s heading out of town,” I said, phone up so I could track the red blip easily. “Take a right here.”
“The cinema.” Gamma cruised down the road, occasionally glancing over at the phone, her jaw set and her gaze determined. “It’s got to be the cinema. That’s why he got a job there, Charlotte. He wanted to use it as a cover for whatever’s going on with the cats.”
“You think Vaughan saw what he was doing, and he got rid of him?” I asked.
“Exactly.”
“But the darts? Where would he have gotten a dart gun or a blowgun or whatever it’s called?”
“We’re going to find out.”
We hit the dirt road that led to the fields where Mr. Shone and Bridget had set up their drive-in theater, and tension streaked down my spine. I was constantly stiff. I wanted those cats back, and I wanted the actual murderer behind bars.
Safety in Gossip was paramount. No distractions. More time to concentrate on finding my ex and eliminating the threat he presented.
And more time to deal with the weirdness with Smulder.
“All right, we’re nearing the…”
“What?” Gamma asked. “What’s going on?”
“You need to take a right up ahead. He’s not going to the drive-in theater. He’s…” I pinched and released my fingers on the screen to zoom out. “He’s heading for the trailer park.”
“The trailer park?” Gamma frowned. “What? Why? That’s odd.”
“I have no idea.”
We fell silent and Gamma took the corner slowly, driving toward the entrance to the trailer park. The gates were open, and the gravel path wandered between trailers, some cream, some rusted, some flashy with full gardens out front.
“He’s stopped further in,” I said. “We should park and walk.”
Gamma pulled into an open patch near the gate and we exited the Mini, walking side-by-side, alternating between scanning the surroundings and checking the blip on our tracking app. The marker stopped nearby, and we rounded a corner on the path in time to see Archie stepping away from the front of a trailer.
It was one that had a fully fledged yard, with a pink flamingo lawn ornament, two gnomes, faded and chipped, and an old dryer rusting away near the front door. The cat carrier sat in front of the steps.
Archie shrugged, then turned and came down the path toward us, bringing his cellphone out of his pocket. He texted away, oblivious.
“He’s just leaving it there?” I asked.
“For someone else.” Gamma looked around, but there was no one else around. The trailers nearest us were shut tight, their curtains drawn. She withdrew a gun from the waistband of her high-waisted jeans. “Ready?”
“Born ready, Georgina.”
“As someone who changed your diapers, I can confirm this is true. You were always ready to cause trouble.”
“Really? We’re going to discuss this now?”
“Hush.” We retreated into the shadows of a nearby trailer.
Archie hummed as he walked past. His phone rang, and he answered it, stopping just ahead of us on the path. “Yeah, hi,” he said. “Just dropped it off at the trailer. She’s not home.”
She? Who’s he talking about? Stephanie? No, she stays at the—
“Babe, stop yelling,” Archie said. “I’m just doing this to support us.” A pause and Archie shook his head. “Your inheritance won’t support us forever. We need a viable means of income and the cats… no. No! Just stop it. Stephanie, you’ve got to chill.”
Gamma gave me the signal, and we moved. She placed the cold barrel of the gun against the back of his neck. So he’d feel it. I removed the phone from his hand and hit the red phone icon on the screen.
Archie squeaked, but didn’t make a break for it. He put his hands up, eyes darting back and forth, then settling as he caught sight of me.
“Don’t move, Mr. Groten,” I said. “Assuming you want your head to stay attached to your neck.”
“What do you want?” he hissed through gritted teeth.
“Answers.”
“And kittens,” Gamma said.
30
“Who do you think you are? The cops?” Archie grunted. “I don’t have to answer your questions. This is a free country.”
“And that’s the cat carrier you took from our kitchen,” Gamma replied, circling so Archie could see the gun in her hand. “We’ve been watching you for some time, Archie. How do you think we knew where to find you? So why don’t you drop the act and comply?”
“Or what? What are you going to do?” He raised a thin eyebrow at us.
“Charlotte.”
I removed the pair of cuffs we’d brought along from Gamma’s back pocket, then pulled Archie’s hands down and behind his back. I snapped the cuffs on his wrists. “I believe they call this a citizen’s arrest,” I said. “If you’ll kindly come with us.”
“I’m not going any—”
Gamma pressed the gun against his forehead, giving Archie the sharp look that had put the fear of God into many a hardened killer over the years. “You’ll do as you’re told.”
Archie couldn’t straighten under
my grandmother’s stare.
I grabbed him by the arm and Gamma put the gun away in case one of the trailer park’s residents looked out a window. We frog-marched Archie to the car and put him in the back before getting in ourselves.
“All right, Mr. Groten, now that we have your full attention,” Gamma said. “Why don’t you tell us why you’ve been stealing cats?”
“I’ve done nothing. I—”
“You realize,” I said, “that we’ve caught you red-handed. And that there’s more on the line than just an arrest for theft. We know you were involved in Mr. Shone’s murder.”
“W-what? No, I wasn’t!”
“Right, then how do you explain your presence at the drive-in theater on the night of the crime. And that Mr. Shone smelled of cat urine? And that you and Stephanie were discussing what you’ll do with her inheritance so soon after his death?”
“No, no, no,” Archie said. “This is all wrong. Whatever you think I did, it wasn’t that. I wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
“Just cats, then.”
“I didn’t hurt any cats either.” Archie shifted onto the edge of the seat, rolling his shoulders. “You’ve got to believe me, I didn’t have anything to do with the murder. Just the cats.”
“Start talking,” I said. “About the cats.” I tacked that on the end because Archie’s eyes had gone hazy with confusion.
“Well, it all started a few months ago when my auntie Barb was forced to sell her land,” Archie said.
Barb from the concession stand at the theater. He was super rude to her in front of the movie-goers. “What’s that got to do with the cats?”
“I’m getting there,” he said. “She sold her land to Mr. Shone and that Myers lady and moved us out here to the trailer park. She couldn’t afford to keep me here, what with the pay at the theater being so low, so she came up with an idea. She had a contact in the town over who was selling cats to little kids, and she said that all I had to do was get the cats to her and she’d pay me a commission fee for each one. Wasn’t much, but it helped us keep the lights on, and me to take Stephanie out on dates and stuff.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said. “You catnapped these pets to sell to other people.”
“Yeah.” Archie shrugged. “It wasn’t honest work, but it was something.”
“Wait a second, Archie,” Gamma said. “Why would you need to do that? Surely, Barb had enough money after selling her land and moving out here. That land was highly valued.”
“Yeah, well, that was supposed to be what happened. We were going to move out of town and everything, but then… well, she got swindled out of her money.” Archie slumped.
Wait a second. Barb told me she’d kicked Archie out. They’re still living together?
“Swindled how?” Gamma asked.
“She didn’t get her money for selling the land,” Archie said.
“What? How? Surely, the funds would’ve been held in escrow and—”
“Nope. No, nothing like that. My auntie had a verbal agreement with that Mr. Shone, and they shook on it and everything. But when she handed over the deed, he didn’t give her the money. She said that he told her it would be in her bank account by the end of the day, but it never arrived. That was months ago,” Archie said. “She’s been trying to get the money out of him ever since, but he kept acting like he had no idea what she was talking about.”
“So, what she decided she was going to work at the theater?” I asked. “Why would she do that? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I got her the job. Bridget hired me, and I got my auntie the job so she’d have some money. Mr. Shone didn’t know about it until after it had happened, and by then, well, he tried to fire her, but Bridget told him he couldn’t do that on opening night.”
“And after he’d died, there’d have been no reason to fire her,” I breathed. “Archie, you’re sure about this? All of this? Your aunt never got the money she was owed?”
“No, never. That’s why she started this whole cat business.” Archie swallowed, the bravado from earlier finally gone. “Look, I’m not going to get in trouble for this, am I? I was just trying to make a quick buck.”
“By stealing,” Gamma said, gruffly.
“Look, it’s not up to us what happens to you.” I met Gamma’s gaze and jerked my head toward the trailer park. “And nothing’s going to happen right now.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Because we’ve got something to do,” I said. “Something real important.”
“You stay here.” Gamma pointed at Archie. “You try to get out of those cuffs, and I’ll know about it.”
He slouched against the back seat. Gamma and I got out of the car and started off down the road.
“How will you know if he tries to get out of the cuffs?” I asked.
“I won’t,” Gamma replied. “But he wouldn’t dare to try it now. Not after that look I gave him.”
31
“Careful,” I said. “She might be in there.”
The cat carrier was where Archie had left it—right across from the abandoned dryer on the front lawn—and Barb’s trailer door was shut tight.
“She’s not in there,” Gamma said. “He knocked, remember?”
“Right. Yeah.” I took a couple breaths. “What do you think?”
“That dryers shouldn’t be lawn ornaments.”
“About Barb. The money. Mr. Shone. The cats and the urine,” I said.
“I’m on the same page as you.” Gamma waved a hand. “But now is hardly the time to obsess over that, Charlotte. We’ve got to get inside. She’s got the cats in there.”
“Unless she’s already sold them.” Gosh, that would be a nightmare. I’d do anything to track down Sunlight and make sure he was OK.
“Don’t say that, dear. Now, let’s go.” Gamma tottered up the stairs and removed an item from her pocket. I couldn’t make out what it was, but there was a dull click, and the trailer’s door swung inward. It was dark inside, and the overwhelming scent of cat urine drifted toward us.
I waved a hand in front of my nose. “Guess we know where the urine came from.”
“Let’s go,” Gamma whispered.
We sneaked up the stairs into the horrific scent and the gloom. The kitchen was small, and the living room was filled with cages and carriers.
“Flashlight, quick,” Gamma said.
I got my phone out and switched on the flashlight app. Kitties blinked at us from the carriers, one of them meowed, and it set the others off. The cacophony of meows sent a thrill down my spine.
“Quick,” I said. “We’ve got to get them out of here.”
“I’m calling the cops,” Gamma whispered. “You look for evidence that Barb did more than just take the cats.”
“On it.” I navigated my way through the cat carriers and litter trays, breathing through my mouth to avoid the cat urine smell. The kitties meowed and batted at their cat carrier doors, and it broke my heart. These poor animals. They had food and water and a place to sleep, but this was outrageous.
Barb would pay for what she’d done.
But the murder… we had to find something that showed she’d attacked Vaughan. If what Archie had told us was to be believed, there wouldn’t be any paperwork proving that Barb had ‘sold’ her fields to Mr. Shone.
“Can’t see a darn thing,” I muttered, moving my flashlight over the carriers. I squeezed between a teetering tower over them, anger bubbling up inside me all over again, and tugged the curtains open. The windows were dusty as heck, but enough light filtered through that I could finally make out the rest of the inside of the trailer.
Behind the wall of cat carriers was a door that led to what had to be the bedroom, and then there was a folding door to the right of it that led into a bathroom. It was closed. I squeezed back into the main aisle and picked around the overflowing litter trays.
A familiar meoowww came from a small, pink carrier to my left. I paused and bent, spying the inside.
“Sunlight!” I fumbled the latch open on the carrier and fished my favorite kitten out from within, tears welling in my eyes. “Oh my word, you’re OK. Sunlight, you’re OK.” I buried my hair in his ginger fur, enjoying the purrs I got in return. I stroked my kitten’s ears and head and held him close.
I’d never been this relieved. Sunlight was fine. Apart from the terrible living conditions.
I held him to my chest and moved toward the bedroom door.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered to Sunlight, “we’re going to free the rest of your friends and arrest the horrible people who did this to you guys.”
He meowed and butted his head against the underside of my chin.
I opened the bedroom door and stepped inside. The bed was an unmade pile of sheets, and the smell in here was just as bad, but there were no cat carriers here. The curtains were drawn too, the gloom incomplete thanks to the light from the living area.
Shapes stood out on the wall. A strange looking knife. A machete. A blow dart gun.
“Shoot,” I whispered. “This is it, Sunlight. We’ve got her!”
The bathroom door squeaked open, and the glow of triumph faded. I tensed, holding Sunlight to my chest, and rotated.
Barb, with her poker-straight gray hair, stood in the doorway to the bedroom, a shotgun in her hands. She aimed it at my chest. “You just couldn’t butt out, could you?” she asked.
I opened my mouth to diffuse the situation, but what could I say? Just like we’d caught Archie and Barb red-handed, she’d done the same to us. No, not us. Just me.
Come on, Gamma, where are you.
“Look,” I said, “you don’t have to do this.”
“I think I do, dear,” she replied. “That good-for-nothing Archie brought you here, didn’t he? I told that boy to be more careful, but he didn’t listen. Shoot, this is all his fault. He may as well be holding this gun.”
“Seriously, don’t shoot. You’ll draw attention from the other trailers, somebody will call the police, and you’ll get in trouble, anyway.”
Raspberry Revenge: A Mission Inn-possible Cozy Mystery Book 4 Page 12