Софи Келли - Cat Trick

Owen’s golden eyes were fixed expectantly on me. “Stay out of trouble, and stay off the furniture,” I told him sternly, shaking a finger for emphasis, “and come when I call you.” I got a low murp for an answer, which might have meant he would. Or might have meant he wouldn’t.

Marcus and I sat at the table for maybe another half an hour, talking about our respective jobs and what was going on around town. It reminded me of the first time we’d sat across a table from each other. I’d discovered the body of conductor Gregor Easton at the Stratton Theater the summer before this past one. Marcus was the investigating officer on the case. We’d gotten off on the wrong foot when he raised the possibility that maybe I’d been at the theater to meet the conductor—who was older than my father—for a romantic rendezvous. I’d taken offense at what he’d been suggesting, and he’d taken offense at what he saw as me poking around in his case.

Gregor Easton’s murder wasn’t the first case of Marcus’s that we’d butted heads on, but in the past few months we’d been trying not to do that. It helped that there hadn’t been a major crime in Mayville Heights in a while.

I stretched my arms up over my head. I’d been stuck behind my desk at the library all day. “I should collect Owen and head home,” I said.

“Have supper with me,” Marcus said. Conversations with him sometimes veered off in unexpected directions. “We could go down to Eric’s Place—that is, if you don’t have plans.”

“I don’t,” I said. “But I have to take Owen home first, assuming he hasn’t decided he’s going to live with you now.” I got to my feet and called the cat. After a minute, he sauntered back into the kitchen. His fur was rumpled and there was a dust ball stuck to his tail. I picked him up and he licked the side of my face, clearly pleased with the way his visit had turned out.

“Thank Marcus for his hospitality,” I said. Owen meowed his appreciation.

Marcus nodded at the cat. “You’re welcome.” To me he said, “I’ll follow you.”

I grabbed my purse from the back of my chair and carried Owen out. I didn’t completely trust him to stay where I could see him, so to speak.

Once we were headed along the road toward home, I glanced over at him on the passenger seat. He was looking out the windshield.

“So did you have a good time?”

“Merow,” he said. His gaze flicked to me and then he went back to staring straight ahead.

“Think of this little visit like it was two visits,” I said darkly. “A first one and a last one.” I didn’t get so much as a whisker twitch for the rest of the ride.

I pulled into the driveway at home, and when I turned off the truck, Owen climbed onto my lap, put a paw on my shoulder and rubbed the side of his face against my cheek. “You’re in big trouble,” I warned, trying to sound mad but not really getting there. “Being cute is not going to save you.”

He licked my chin.

“That would be a whole lot more adorable if you didn’t have fish breath,” I told him.

I carried Owen inside and left him in the kitchen. Hercules was nowhere to be seen. I ran upstairs, undid my ponytail, and ran a brush through my hair. I was still growing out my hair—with help from Rebecca, who used to be a hairdresser. I had layers with side-swept bangs, but I could finally pull it back off my face when I wanted to.

Owen was sitting by the refrigerator when I came down. “Nice try,” I said. “You’ve already eaten. More than once.” I made sure I could see him as I closed and locked the door behind me.

Marcus was waiting in the driveway. I climbed into the passenger side of his SUV.

“Is Owen okay?” he asked as he backed onto the street.

“Are you kidding?” I said. “He had sardines in hot sauce, a hunk of mozzarella cheese, and he got to poke his furry little nose into who knows what at your house. It was just about the perfect cat outing.” I shifted sideways in my seat a little so I could watch him drive.

We started down Mountain Road, and Marcus glanced over at me. “So have you decided what you’re going to do?” he said.

I didn’t have to ask, “About what?” I knew he meant had I decided if I was going to accept the offer Everett Henderson had made to me on behalf of the library board and stay in Mayville Heights, or go back to Boston when my contract expired in about six months. I had until the end of the month to give the board my answer. I fiddled with the strap of my purse to buy a little time. “I’m not sure,” I said finally.

His eyes stayed focused on the road ahead.

“I didn’t think I’d miss my family so much.” I cleared my throat. “One of the reasons I came here was to get some breathing room.”

Marcus nodded without speaking.

“My mother and father, and Sara and Ethan, they sometimes tend to suck all the air out of the room.”

My parents were both actors. My sister, Sara, was an aspiring filmmaker. Her twin, Ethan, was a musician. They were all dramatic people. I’d always been the practical, responsible one in the family. Moving to Mayville Heights to supervise the refurbishment of the library had been the first impulsive thing I’d done in my life.

“When I went back to Boston to see everyone last month . . .” I let the end of the sentence trail away.

“It made the decision more complicated,” Marcus finished.

“It did.”

It had felt so good to be in the middle of my crazy, infuriating family again; to watch my mother and father rehearse, to see Ethan and his band play to an enthusiastic crowd in a little club in downtown Boston, and to play assistant to Sara as she worked out the details for a music video she was shooting for the group. But I couldn’t imagine saying good-bye to Maggie and Roma and Rebecca. And Marcus. I couldn’t see Owen and Hercules living in an apartment in Boston. But I couldn’t leave them behind, either.

Marcus came to a stop at the bottom of the hill and waited for a couple of cars to go by. “I’d miss you,” he said lightly, looking over at me as he made a right turn toward the diner.

“Really?” I said, giving him my Mr.-Spock-from- Star-Trek raised eyebrow.

He nodded. “Who would bring me coffee when I’m working on a case?”

“And who would you tell to stay out of your case?”

“That too,” he said, scanning the street for somewhere to park.

A red pickup pulled out of a spot in front of the bookstore, and Marcus expertly backed into the space. He turned to me as he pulled the key out of the ignition. “You should do what makes you happy,” he said. “But I really would miss you.”

I didn’t know what to say. Marcus was already getting out of the SUV, so I did the same.

Eric’s Place was about half-full, mostly of people I recognized, but a few tourists, too. Claire, my favorite waitress, showed us to a table by the window. Eric raised a hand in hello from behind the counter. His wife, Susan, worked at the library with me. They had twin boys, almost five, with genius level IQs. Susan’s stories about their latest schemes always made me laugh. She claimed they were either going to become criminal masterminds or the first president/vice president twins.

Claire’s eyes flicked over to Marcus as she handed me a menu, and she gave me a knowing smile. I knew that the two of us having dinner together would be all over town in no time. The Mayville Heights gossip grapevine could spread information faster than a fiber-optic Internet connection.

After we’d both ordered and Claire had headed back to the kitchen, I leaned sideways to look out the window.

“You won’t be able to see the tents from here, but we can walk down after we eat,” Marcus said.