Софи Келли - Cat Trick

Eric laughed and gestured to my half-empty plate. “Would you like anything else?”

I shook my head. “No, thank you.” I took another bite of the sandwich while Eric started a new pot of coffee.

“Are you still going to do the food tasting?” I asked.

“We are,” he said. He turned to look at me over one shoulder. “If Liam and his group can pull this together, it could be good for the town. And I know it sounds awful, but it’ll be a lot less of a hassle without Glazer.”

I reached for my cup. “Do you think it was just the small-town boy trying to show off his big-city polish?”

“It’s possible. Not such a good idea, if you ask me, considering he might have been leaving the big city.”

“What do you mean?”

Eric stopped to wash his hands and then came back over to the counter. “Friend of mine has a restaurant in Chicago. I called him when we knew this pitch to Legacy was a go. He said there was some talk going around that Glazer’s partners wanted him out of the company. Nothing specific, mostly just talk.”

Before I could ask if he knew why, Claire came back with an order for the three men—town workers—who had just come in.

Eric headed for the kitchen. “Have a good day, Kathleen,” he said. “And remember, Susan’s bringing lunch. Let me know what you think of the soup.”

Claire took my empty plate and I pulled out my wallet to pay for breakfast.

“Kathleen, are you going to be seeing Maggie anytime soon?” she asked.

“Tomorrow night at tai chi class,” I said. “Why?”

“Her boyfriend left his travel mug here last week. I thought he’d be back in, but I haven’t seen him. Or Maggie.”

“You mean Liam?”

She nodded, reached under the counter and brought up a sleek, shiny stainless-steel mug with a comma-shaped handle and rubber grip strips. “He probably forgot where he left it. He was pretty angry after everything. He didn’t even finish his meal.”

I frowned. “What do you mean, ‘after everything’?”

“He was here, at that table.” She pointed to the front window. “Next thing I know, he’s outside on the sidewalk having some kind of heated conversation with Mike Glazer. He was right in the guy’s face. When he came back inside, he just tossed some money on the table, grabbed his jacket and left.” She shrugged. “I think he just forgot that he’d asked me to fill his mug, and I couldn’t catch him. We’re usually not that busy on a Wednesday, but we were that night.”

“You’re probably right,” I said. “I can give it to Maggie.”

Claire smiled. “Hang on a sec and I’ll get you a bag.” She moved over to the cash register, where the take-out bags were stacked on a shelf. “Do you want a take-out cup to go?” she asked, gesturing at the coffee with her elbow.

“Umm . . . yes, thank you.”

She put the travel mug in a bag, got me a large cup of coffee to go and brought both over to me. I paid for breakfast, wished Claire a good day and headed out.

I’d left the truck at the library, but I didn’t mind the walk. The sun was shining for now, although my wrist still insisted it was going to rain later.

I let myself into the building and relocked the door, leaving the alarm off. After flipping on the downstairs lights, I headed up to my office. It was still early. I put my things on the desk and hung up my jacket. Then I tucked Liam’s mug in my briefcase so I’d remember to give it to Maggie.

As I picked up my cup again, I thought about what Claire had said about Liam’s argument with Mike Glazer. Mike had clearly pushed Liam’s buttons somehow if Liam had left without finishing his meal or getting his coffee. He worked part-time tending bar at Harry’s Hat, so he was used to dealing with people who were behaving badly; he didn’t lose his cool that easily. I couldn’t catch him, Claire had said. Then I remembered the rest of the sentence: We’re usually not that busy on a Wednesday, but we were that night.

I leaned back against the edge of the desk. Wednesday night was the night Mike Glazer had been killed. And he’d had an argument with Liam.

No. That didn’t mean Liam had killed him. It wasn’t a cause-and-effect thing. Liam wasn’t the only person who’d had words with Mike. He wasn’t the only person who didn’t like the man. Mary had threatened to drop-kick Mike between a couple of lampposts and I didn’t think she’d killed him.

Plus Liam was the one who’d come up with the idea of pitching a tour built around Mayville Heights to Legacy Tours in the first place. Why would he kill Mike? It didn’t make any sense. For all Liam knew, if Mike was dead, that would be the end of any deal with Legacy.

I looked at my watch. Mary and Abigail would be arriving anytime now and so would our new co-op student and her teacher. I took one last long drink from my cup and headed downstairs.

Harry Taylor—Junior, not Senior—came into the library just after eleven o’clock with Elizabeth.

“I have a couple of books your dad requested,” I said, walking over to meet them by the circulation desk. I smiled at Elizabeth. “Hi.”

She smiled back and Harry nodded. “Mary called. That’s what we came to get.” He took a library card out of his shirt pocket and handed it over to Abigail, who was working checkout; then he turned back to me. “There’re a couple of things I wanted to ask you.”

“Go ahead,” I said.

“Do you mind if I start cleaning out those flower beds at the front tomorrow and getting them ready to get the bulbs in?”

“That’s fine with me,” I said. “Do what works best for you, but don’t forget it’s story time tomorrow. You might end up with some little helpers.”

Harry smiled. “I don’t mind.” He glanced at Elizabeth. “The other thing is, I was wondering if Elizabeth and one of her friends could come meet your cats sometime. They’re thinking about helping out at Wisteria Hill.”

I was guessing the “friend” was Wren Magnusson and this was Harry’s way of giving me a chance to talk to her.

“Absolutely.” I turned to Elizabeth. “Owen and Hercules came from Wisteria Hill. The only thing you have to remember is that they don’t like to be touched by pretty much anyone but me. But they do like company.”

“Did one of them really go and get Harry when someone broke into your house?” She shot her big brother a skeptical look.

I nodded, my hand automatically going to rub my left wrist. That encounter just over a year ago was when it had been broken. “Hercules,” I said. “Harry was mowing the lawn at my backyard neighbor’s house. Hercules got in front of the lawn mower and made so much noise, Harry came to see what was going on.”

“I figured either something had happened to Kathleen, or Timmy was stuck in the well and the cat fancied himself to be Lassie,” Harry said dryly. Abigail handed him the two books and he thanked her.

Elizabeth smiled and made a face at her brother before shifting her gaze back to me. “Is after supper tonight too soon?”

“No, it’s not,” I said. We settled on a time and I gave her directions. “Tell your dad the other book he wanted should be here next week,” I told Harry.

“I will,” he said. His eyes darted sideways to Elizabeth for a moment. “Thank you.”

I spent most of the morning teaching our new student intern—whose name was Mia—how the computerized card catalogue worked. Like most teenagers, she had good computer skills and she picked it up easily. She was well spoken and well read, conservatively dressed in a black skirt and long-sleeved white blouse. After working with her for a couple of hours, I felt Mia was going to fit in just fine, although her neon blue hair was probably going to get more than a second glance. I sent her to shelve books with Mary and walked over to the circulation desk.