Софи Келли - A Night's Tail

“What is it?” I asked. I thought Patricia had gone over every detail. What could have gone wrong?

“Our chef tried the cookie recipes that Patricia dropped off. The lemon crinkle top ones are fine but he thinks the almond shortbread are too crumbly when the recipe is changed to make so many at once. And it’s just not practical to make them in small batches. For what it’s worth, I agree with him.”

I put the magazine I’d been reading back in its protective sleeve. “How can I help?”

“Before I tell Patricia, I need a third opinion. I know she doesn’t like last-minute changes and I’m hoping there’s strength in numbers.”

“I can come down and try a cookie right now if that helps.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Melanie asked. I could hear voices in the background, which told me she was still at the St. James.

“You’re offering me cookies,” I said. “I don’t mind.”

I told her I’d be there in a few minutes and ended the call. I put all the issues of Burtis’s magazines back in their storage container and made sure the lid was secure. I opened the closet door partway. Hercules in turn opened one eye and yawned.

“I have to go down to the hotel for a few minutes. I won’t be long. Ethan will be back . . .” I had no idea when Ethan would be back. “At some point,” I finished.

Hercules yawned again.

There was no sign of Owen in the hallway, the living room or the kitchen. He was probably in his lair in the basement, plotting something like the mustache-twirling villain in an old black-and-white movie. Or maybe he was chewing on a catnip chicken. I knew I was guilty of attributing human motivations to much of Hercules’s and Owen’s behaviors, when sometimes they were just being regular cats.

When I arrived at the St. James I checked at the front desk and the staff member working there told me that Melanie was in her office and I should head down. The lobby was busy with guests coming and going from their rooms and people heading to the restaurant and the lounge. I felt something brush against my leg, stepped to the left and almost bumped into two men pulling their suitcases, heads bent over their phones. I turned down the hall toward Melanie’s office and the crush of people was gone, which meant there was only one explanation when once again I felt something brush against my leg.

I stopped and looked around. There was no sign of a certain devious furball, no indication that there was a cat in the hallway at all, but I knew he was there. Owen had stowed away in the truck. He was getting a lot better at it, I thought. In the past he would have given himself away, made a sound, knocked something over. I would have realized he was beside me on the seat, silent and invisible. He must have been in the kitchen when I left, walking out beside me.

“Owen, show yourself,” I hissed. Of course he didn’t.

I leaned forward and swept my arm all around in front of me a few inches above floor level, hoping I’d touch him even as I knew he was sitting just beyond my grasp, likely amused by my effort.

An older woman I took to be a visitor at the hotel came down the hallway, frowning when she saw me.

“Arm went to sleep,” I said, smiling a little maniacally. I noticed she stayed close to the wall as she passed me. Maybe I should have told her I was an orchestra conductor doing my daily exercises instead.

“You’re never going to have another sardine or a sardine cracker in your life if I don’t see you right now,” I said. It was an empty threat and the little tabby cat knew that.

We were approaching Melanie’s office. Just then she stepped out into the hallway, smiling when she caught sight of me. “Hi, Kathleen,” she said. “That was fast.”

“Well, you know, cookies,” I said.

Behind her Owen appeared, only for a few seconds, just long enough for me to see him walk into the office.

Melanie reached behind her and pulled the office door closed. She put her keys, which were on a bright blue lanyard, around her neck. “The chef’s waiting for us in the kitchen,” she said.

The cookies were delicious and very pretty—heart-shaped with one side dipped in white chocolate—but they were also very crumbly.

“You’re right,” I said. I had crumbs on my fingers and the front of my sweater. “They’re too messy for the library.” And for Patricia with all those quilts around, I added silently. “Can you give me until morning before you call Patricia?” I asked Melanie. “I may have an idea to offer her that will work better.”

She brushed a couple of stray crumbs from her violet-colored blouse. “Gladly.” Her phone pinged then. She read what was on the screen and sighed. “I’m sorry, Kathleen,” she said. “It seems we have a couple of disgruntled guests in one of our luxury suites.”

I still had half a cookie in my hand. “Go take care of it. I can find my way back to the lobby.”

She thanked me again for coming. I told her I’d talk to her sometime after lunch, and she left.

I thanked the chef for his help, retraced our steps all the way to the lobby, then waited a moment until both staff members at the front desk were busy with customers and headed down the corridor that led to Melanie’s office. I had a furry trespasser to pick up. I walked like I belonged and no one stopped me.

When I tried to open Melanie’s office door it was locked. It must have locked when she closed it. Now what was I going to do? I jiggled the handle and from inside heard an answering meow. I had to get Owen out before Melanie came back or someone caught me lurking there.

She hadn’t set the touchpad lock when we’d gone to try the cookies so all I had to do was get the actual door lock open. I looked at the six-panel wooden door and realized the lockset was like the one on the door to the tai chi studio. I remembered what Milo had done to show Maggie how inadequate the lock was on the studio door. Would that trick work here? I didn’t have a better option.

I fished my library card out of my wallet and slipped it into the crack between the door and the frame. It took two tries but I got the latch open.

I slipped inside, using the flashlight app on my phone so I could see what I was doing. I found Owen perched on the leather chair in the corner.

I glared at him. “What are you doing?”

He blinked at me and his nose twitched.

I had no idea why he’d wanted to get inside Melanie’s office other than he knew I didn’t want him there. I brushed at the gray-and-red blanket, hoping he hadn’t gotten any cat hair on it.

There really was nothing that should have caught his attention: the old desk, the photo of the Riverwalk, one of the calendars that he and Hercules had posed for, the tiny plaque with the words “Valor, Truth, Honor.” Just typical things you’d find in most offices. I reached for the cat and heard a noise outside in the corridor. We were caught. Well, I was caught. Owen could just disappear again.

I closed my eyes for a moment. When Melanie opened the door I’d simply tell her that I came back to leave her a note and got stuck in her office. It was embarrassing, but not the end of the world.

Then I heard the beep of the digital lock and realized that Melanie wasn’t coming in. She was just locking the door.

I bolted across the small space. “Hello? Hello?” I called out, banging on the door with the flat of my hand. “Melanie! Hello?”

Nothing.

She was gone. She hadn’t heard me. Now what? I pounded on the door again. “Hello? Is anyone out there?”

No one came.

I made my way back to the chair and sat down. Okay, I’d just call Melanie instead, tell her my leaving a note story and get her to come let me out. Slightly more embarrassing but not by much.