Depawsit Slip (Vanessa Abbot Cat Protection League Cozy Mystery Series Book 1) (8 page)

A handful of cats left their food dishes and disappeared into other parts of the apartment. Some curled up on the living room chairs, and some jumped out through the cat door in the kitchen window into the vacant lot behind the building. Henry turned around and walked back towards Vanessa’s feet.

She opened another can of cat food and emptied it into a dish for him. She set it down in a different corner of the kitchen, away from all the other cats. Then she collected the leftover dishes and started to clean them.

“I agree with you,” she remarked. “I don’t really believe Walter was a Mafioso on the side, either. It doesn’t fit with his role as a doctor. Besides, we’ve known him for years. We would have known if he had any criminal dealings. Look at Alfred. Everybody knew about him. Walter couldn’t keep it a secret if he had been doing that sort of thing. Just think of him operating a gambling den out of the back room of his clinic.” She laughed out loud and shook her head.

“It’s time to head down to the shop,” she exclaimed. “Are you coming, Flossy? Where’s AngelPie?” She stuck her head around the corner into the bedroom. “Come on, Teddy. We’re leaving now. It’s time to go to work.”

He trotted out of the bedroom and fell at her feet with Flossy and AngelPie. Henry finished eating and followed behind them. Vanessa locked up the apartment, descended the stairs, and unlocked the Opportunity Shop. She hung out the
 
Open
 
sign and turned on the lights. She rubbed her hands together. “It’s cold this morning. Winter’s coming on. I think I’ll light the heater.”

AngelPie jumped up onto her shelf, and Flossy tiptoed through her glass vases to her post. Teddy stationed himself on the front counter while Vanessa unlocked the cash register and turned it on. Then she switched on an electric heater behind the counter and rubbed her hands together again. Henry busied himself by taking an inventory of his romances.

Vanessa put her sign out on the sidewalk outside of the shop. The door rattled and the bells clanged when she came back in. “I feel a frost in the air. It’s time to put the down comforter on the bed.”

She sat down in her chair behind the counter. Flossy and AngelPie sat down in their usual places. Henry wasn’t finished searching for exactly the right book to sit on. He stepped on one book after the other, testing them with his toes and thinking about which one to lay on. Only the very trashiest romance would do. He especially liked the ones with half-naked people groping each other on the covers.

Vanessa set the last cat food can in the sink and dried her hands on a towel. She turned back toward the shop when the door bells jangled. Her cheeks turned pink and she smiled when she saw Pete Wheeler enter the Shop.

“What did you find out?” she asked.

“I looked into Alan Braithwaite,” he told her. “Now that guy has a criminal record as long as my arm.”

Vanessa’s eyes widened. “What kind of criminal record?”

Pete counted on his fingers. “Shop-lifting, auto theft, bank fraud, embezzlement. You name it. He’s done it. I’m surprised I didn’t know about him before.”

“Is there anything to connect him with Alfred Botchweather?” Vanessa asked.

“I didn’t find anything,” he replied. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t there. I’ll keep digging. As soon as we make a connection between them, we can start putting together a case against Penny. There is one other thing that I have to look into, though.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“There is a connection between him and Ollie Fleetwood,” he replied. “It might not be anything related to the murder, but I’ll chase it down anyway. We could be barking up the wrong tree.”

“What’s the connection?” she asked.

“During one of Alan’s failed car heists,” he told her, “he was caught in one of Ollie Fleetwood’s plumbing vans. All the pipe wrenches and toilet snakes and everything else were still in the back.”

Vanessa snickered. “Did he steal the van?”

“Ollie never reported the van stolen,” Pete replied, “either before or after Alan was caught. We can only assume he loaned the van to Alan.”

“He may have done that without knowing Alan was going to attempt a car heist,” Vanessa pointed out.

Pete snorted. “I hope not. If he knew, he would be guilty of conspiracy and he could be sent up for the same sentence.”

“If the police never pressed charges against Ollie,” Vanessa considered, “I guess they never made that connection.”

“I guess not.” Pete surveyed the shop. He spotted Henry in his box of books and ran his hand along the cat’s back.

Henry lifted his head with his eyes half open and purred. He arched his back across the spines of the books and pushed his body into Pete’s hand.

Vanessa smiled to herself.

“You have some really nice cats,” Pete remarked. “I’m starting to understand how you could live very happily with them without getting lonely.”

“And do you also see,” she asked, “how odd it would be if one of them attacked somebody?”

He nodded. “Maybe they know something we don’t know.”

The doorbells jangled, and they both turned to see who it was.

“Well, speak of the devil,” Pete remarked.

Ollie glanced back and forth between him and Vanessa. “Are you two planning my demise?”

“Not at all,” Vanessa told him. “Pete was just telling me about how Alan Braithwaite was caught in one of your plumbing vans during a failed car heist.”

Ollie raised his eyebrows. “Pete?”

Vanessa blushed. “I mean Detective Wheeler.”

Ollie grinned. “That’s okay. I should have known you would look into everybody’s records. What the record probably doesn’t tell you is that Alan was working for me at the time. He was on his way between jobs when he tried to boost that car. That’s why he was in my van.”

Pete nodded. “That’s what I thought. I had a feeling there would be a logical explanation for it. I think I know who killed Alfred Botchweather and why.”

“Really?” Ollie asked.

 “Who?”

The doorbells rang again, and Walter strolled into the shop. “What’s going on? Are you having a convention or something?”

“Good morning, Walter,” Vanessa replied. “How did the lunch go?”

“It hasn’t happened yet,” he told her. “It’s not until next Sunday. That’s why I’m here.”

“Oh?” she asked. “Why?”

“I thought about what you said before,” he told her. “I went to town and searched all the department stores for another cut crystal cake stand.”

“Didn’t you find one?” she asked. “I thought they’d be a dime a dozen.”

“They are,” he replied. “And they’re cheaper than yours, too. It didn’t make any sense to me. I didn’t think I would find anything cheaper than secondhand, but I did.”

“So did you buy one?” she asked.

He turned his head to the side. “No. That’s what made me start thinking. You were right. That cake stand idea of mine made no sense. I want something I can put down on the ground, and it won’t get knocked over. And then, when your cat broke the cake stand, that made me think even more. I want something that I won’t care about getting broken. There will be young kids running around that park. If they step on the plate and break it, I don’t want to worry about it. That platter you showed me will be perfect.”

Vanessa beamed at him. “I’m so glad you think so, Walter.” She collected the platter from the shelf and brought it to the counter.

Just then, Penny walked in the door. She looked around at the assembled group and headed off toward the children’s toys. Pete and Vanessa exchanged a meaningful glance.

“Would you like me to gift wrap it for you, Walter?” Vanessa asked.

“No,” he replied. “I want it out so I can put my cake on it.”

“Of course.” Vanessa chuckled. “How silly of me.”

“That’s all right,” Walter replied. “Just a bag, please, if you have one.”

“Sure.” She pulled an old flowery gift bag out from under the counter and slid the platter into it. “Here you go.”

“How much?” he asked.

“Fifty cents,” she replied.

He frowned. Then he shook his head and started digging into his pocket. Penny came toward the counter with a jigsaw puzzle box in her hand. She frowned at Walter.

“I’m sure Penny will be delighted with your choice,” Vanessa remarked. “Look at the cake platter Walter bought for the bride’s lunch.”

Walter’s head shot up. “Penny? What’s Penny got to do with this?”

“She’s your sister’s wedding planner, isn’t she?” Vanessa replied. “Don’t you want to show her your platter?”

Walter furrowed his eyebrows. “Penny’s not my sister’s wedding planner.”

Vanessa gasped. “She’s not?”

“No,” Walter replied. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Vanessa glanced at Pete. “Then you’re not the Mafioso.”

“What Mafioso?” Walter asked.

Vanessa shook her head. “Never mind. It must be Alfred.”

Penny looked back and forth between them. “What are you talking about? What’s all this talk about a Mafioso?”

Pete moved closer to Penny. His hand moved up closer to his pocket.

“You said you had a bride whose brother was a Mafioso,” Vanessa reminded her. “You said this brother demanded you do everything his way. You could only have been talking about Alfred.”

“I was not,” Penny shot back. “I never worked with Alfred Botchweather in my life, not as a wedding planner or as anything else. I don’t think I ever exchanged two words with the man while he was alive.”

“But you must have had some other reason to kill him,” Vanessa pointed out.

“I didn’t kill him,” Penny replied.

“Oh, come on, Penny,” Vanessa returned. “You don’t have to lie about it anymore. You’re the only one of the four of us who had any motive to kill him.”

“And what do you say that motive was?” Penny asked. “If he wasn’t this demanding Mafioso you mentioned, why do you think I killed him?”

“To pay him back for ruining your brother,” Vanessa replied. “Your brother Alan Braithwaite must have gotten into trouble with Alfred, and you killed him in revenge. You don’t have to explain it to me. I wish I could have killed him in revenge for what he did to my son Tom.”

Penny’s mouth dropped open. “I just told you, Vanessa. I didn’t kill Alfred. And my brother Alan never got into trouble with Alfred Botchweather.”

“But,” Vanessa exclaimed, “He explained to Ollie that he should do everything possible to avoid getting into debt with Alfred. He said Alfred would inflate the debt until he couldn’t pay it back. How could he know that if he hadn’t run in with Alfred himself?”

“My brother Alan,” Penny told her, “never ran in with Alfred. He knew all about those crooked loan sharks from his unfortunate dealings with another unscrupulous back-room viper, and you don’t have to look very far to find him, either.”

Vanessa’s eyes flew open. “Who was that?”

Penny threw her jigsaw puzzle down on the counter and raised her hand in front of her like the Ghost of Christmas yet to come. She pointed her accusing finger across the room. “He’s standing right there. The nefarious criminal, the blood-thirsty, cut-throat heathen who ruined my brother’s life and destroyed my family is standing right over there. It’s that pillar of society, his lordship Doctor Walter Connelly.”

Everyone whirled around to face Walter. “You!” Vanessa gasped.

Pete Wheeler stuck his hand in his pocket. The bright metal of handcuffs gleamed in his hand. He made a grab for Walter’s arm, but the doctor moved first. With a frightful feral snarl, he launched himself across the room toward the door. He planted his hand flat against Detective Wheeler’s chest and shoved him out of the way. He barreled headfirst into Ollie and sent him flying.

Ollie staggered backwards and pitched over on his back across the glassware table. Flossy sprang into the air amid an explosion of shattering glass. She leapt clear of the table and landed on top of a lamp behind the counter. Her weight set the lamp teetering. Flossy dug her claws into the lampshade and tried to steady it, but that only made it rock even more. It teetered first one way, then the other, before it crashed to the floor next to the remains of the glassware table.

Ollie floundered among the broken glass, but Walter never stopped on his path toward the door. He got halfway there when a shadow caught Vanessa’s eye. She dragged her eyes away from the chaos in front of her and glanced toward AngelPie’s shelf.

But the flash of lightning moving toward the scene of action wasn’t AngelPie at all. A speckled projectile slithered between the fake flowers and the casserole dishes and flew toward the door. The moment Walter put his hand on the doorknob, Henry sailed through the air and plastered himself across Walter’s face.

Henry’s claws bit into Walter’s scalp and skin. The cat scratched, clawed and scrambled to stay fixed to Walter’s face, and he tore great angry red streaks in Walter’s neck, forehead and cheeks.

Walter couldn’t see anything with the cat attached to his face. He fought to free himself from Henry’s attack, but Henry held on for dear life. Walter hooked his hands between Henry’s stomach and his face and tried to pry him off, but the harder he pried, the deeper Henry’s claws sank into his skin.