Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
“That’s the one.”
She stands, her eyes shining. “She’s behind it. I just know it.”
“How?”
“The smell.” She taps the side of her nose. “Mama Kitty noticed a strong smell, like some sort of fancy perfume, on the woman. Said it lingered for hours afterwards.”
“You think it’s the same odd scent Mousey mentioned?” I ask.
“I think so. I think she might be the key to solving this.”
She waves goodbye to the cat and all the kittens. “Lovely meeting you all.”
I open the front door and lead her out. “You seemed to handle that okay.”
“Oh, Frankie treats them great. It’s not one of those bad pet stores at all.” She smiles. “They’re happy. Mama Kitty is a stray, and Frankie took her in, helped her have the kittens, and had her spayed and treated. It really is a good shop, as far as shops go.”
“I’m glad it didn’t bother you.” I open her car door.
“Where to now?” she asks.
“Lunch. I’ll check in with Squirrel, see what leads he’s turned up. If she was dressed that loudly, I think we have a good chance of catching her on someone’s cameras.”
“And then we’ll be even closer to finding Fitzy and closing this case.”
“You got it.” I close her car door, then realize what she said. When we find Fitzy, the case is over. When we find the cat, May will return to her life, and I’m supposed to return to mine. The thought doesn’t sit well.
I suppose I’ll just have to convince May that Fitzy isn’t the end for us. Fitzy is only the beginning.
18
MAY
Imoan when I bite into the pasta. Carson sends me a heated look, making me realize the sounds I’m making while I eat. I can’t help it. Who knew Jersey would have the best Italian food I’ve ever eaten in my life? I wipe my mouth, making sure there is no sauce on my face. There’s simply no way to be sexy and eat pasta.
“Don’t you think it’s odd no one has reached out to Mrs. Farrol for a ransom or something?” I ask.
“They still could.”
“True.” Why steal a cat? I mean, of course, they are adorable, but there are cats everywhere. The only reason to take Fitzy would be for money. Not asking for a ransom can only mean one thing. The–
“It has to be personal,” I blurt out. “It’s not the money. Whoever took him is all dressed up and wearing expensive perfume.” They have money. It might not be as much as Mrs. Farrol, not sure anyone has that kind of money, but they have some. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
He smiles indulgently despite my interruption. "I've been thinking about that too."
I snap my fingers, happy to hear that our thought process is on the same track. “So we need to dig into Mrs. Farrol’s past. Find all her enemies. See who might have it out for her and what their reasons are.”
“We can do that while Squirrel works on tracing the drycleaning van and whoever took the plates. I have him digging into the footage around the pet store. The street lights are equipped with cameras. One of them should have a decent shot.”
“I don’t think whoever did this will be easy to miss.” Not based on the description the shop owner gave to Carson.
“I’m sure I’ll have the footage soon.” Carson takes a bite of his steak. He then slices off another piece and offers it to me. I lean forward and open my mouth. It might be okay if we need to wait for information. I don’t want this to end.
It’s not that I don’t want to find Fitzy, because that is obviously the goal here, but I know once we do, all of this will be over. Carson pretty much confirmed that earlier when I mentioned closing the case. His response wasn’t what I had hoped for.
“What kind of enemy could someone like Mrs. Farrol have?” Can the old woman really get up to that much trouble? "I don't believe she is scuttling around town stealing the men of other women."
“Are you sure about that? I mean, you saw that room with the paintings of–” He stops himself, wrinkling his nose slightly, and puts down his knife and fork as if he’s lost his appetite.
“I mean, she’s confident,” I admit. "But I don't see Mrs. Farrol as someone who would chase after anyone."
“Don’t forget we’re dealing with people with a lot of money and likely too much free time on their hands. Mrs. Farrol could have bought something out from under them at an auction or shared gossip. Wealthy people get offended by things we couldn’t imagine hurting regular people’s feelings.”
“Maybe she talked shit about someone’s dog,” I add. "People always carry them around in their purses. I bet Mrs. Farrol would have a few choice words about that.”