Софи Райан - The Whole Cat Аnd Caboodle

“Keep your paws off my pancakes,” I warned. He made a huffy sound and dropped his head over his own food.

“Isn’t this breaking about a dozen health department rules, having him in here?” I asked Sam, cutting part of a pancake with my fork.

He was getting himself a cup of coffee. “Oh, probably,” he said, adding sugar to his cup. “But I wash those booths down every day, and I can promise you a cat eating breakfast isn’t the most unsanitary thing that’s happened in here.”

I held up a hand. “I’m eating. I don’t want to know.”

Sam laughed as he sat down opposite me. “Okay, girl. Let me see those pictures.” He held out his hand and I slid my phone across the table to him.

Sam scrolled through the photos of the Rickenbacker while I ate.

“I’m tempted,” he said, rubbing his bearded chin with one hand. “What are you asking?”

I named a price.

He reached for his coffee. “I didn’t ask you what the seller wanted. I asked for your price.”

I set my fork down and picked up my own mug. “You’re family, Sam.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, Sarah. This is business. Your business.”

I picked up a section of grapefruit with two fingers and ate it. “So, does that mean you’re going to charge me for these pancakes?”

“That’s not the same thing and you know it,” he said.

Elvis had stopped eating and was watching us, almost as if he could follow the conversation.

I reached for my fork again. “How many instruments have you checked out for me in the past four months?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. Half a dozen, maybe.”

“Eight,” I said. “You haven’t charged me a cent. And it’s not like I’ve even make you a thank-you cake or a plate of cookies.”

“And I’m very grateful for that,” he said with a smile.

I made a face at him. “So don’t give me a hard time about the price.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, you’re not going to argue with me, or okay, you want the guitar?” I said.

Sam held up both hands. “Okay, you win, and okay, yes, I want the guitar.”

I grinned at him across the table. “Good. It’s beautiful and I wanted somebody to have it who would play it more than a few times a year. The man who owned it didn’t think he played well enough to get it out very often so it spent most of the time in a closet.”

Sam shook his head. “That’s criminal.” He took one last look at the guitar and then pushed the phone back across the table to me. “A great instrument like that is meant to be played and enjoyed.”

“You’re just going to have to play it a lot to make up for that,” I said. I wondered if Sam was thinking about my father’s guitar that hadn’t been out of my closet in more than a year. If he was, he didn’t give any sign of that on his face.

Sam leaned against the back of the booth. “So, how did you come to find that Fenety man’s body?” he said.

“I drove Charlotte over to Maddie’s house.”

Elvis had finished eating. He climbed over my lap, jumped down and went around to the other side of the booth, settling himself next to Sam.

“Had you seen him around town?” I asked, starting in on my second pancake.

“A few times.” He tented his fingers over the top of his cup. “And Fenety and Maddie Hamilton were in here for lunch a couple of days ago.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“What is it?” I asked.

Sam shook his head. “There was just something about the guy that I didn’t like. He was just a little too perfect, if you know what I mean.” He leaned forward, both elbows on the table. “I saw the paper this morning. Do you think she knew?”

“That Fenety was a polygamist?” I said. “She didn’t say anything. And it’s kind of hard to imagine they’d be having a cozy little brunch for two at Maddie’s house if she’d found out he was just scamming her.”

“That’s true,” Sam said.

I swallowed the last bite of pancake and checked my watch, snagging a chunk of apple from the bowl at the same time. “I have to get to the shop,” I said. Elvis’s head came up when I said shop . He shook himself and jumped down to the floor. I stood up, as well.

Sam got to his feet and hugged me. He smelled like coffee and Old Spice aftershave. There was something very comforting about that combination.

“Thanks for breakfast,” I said.

“Anytime,” he said. “Thank you for the guitar. It’ll probably be tomorrow before I can come get it. There’s another fall-foliage tour scheduled for a late lunch here this afternoon.”

Elvis was already headed for the door. He settled on the passenger’s side of the front seat as I pulled out of my parking spot, and looked out the side window as though checking for oncoming cars. I wondered how he’d liked the new—well, new to me—SUV that I was planning on trading the truck for. He seemed to like driving around in the truck, which fit with the theory that he’d used to belong to the guy in the camper van.

I stopped at Legacy Place to pick up the tables the ladies had dipped the day before. I wrapped them carefully in the tarps I’d brought with me and set them in the back of the truck. Mac was already at the shop when we got there. He helped me carry the tables inside and I helped him carry a long farm-style table out and set it on a drop cloth.

“Are you sure you want to strip off the old paint?” I said, standing back to look at the table. It was painted olive green.

“I am,” Mac said. “I’m almost positive it’s oak. There’s some beautiful wood underneath all those layers of paint.”

“I hope you’re right,” I said.

Elvis had been circling the table and now he stopped and meowed loudly at me.

I laughed. “Okay, so you’ve convinced him.”

“Good to know you have my back, Elvis,” Mac said to the cat.

Rose was heading toward us. “I’m going to open things up,” I said. “Rose can handle the shop and—”

Elvis meowed again.

“Excuse me,” I said. “Rose and Elvis can handle the store, and I’m going to work on an offer for the pieces I want from the Harrington place.”

Mac was already rolling up his sleeves. “I think we could do something with that sleigh bed.”

“Me too,” I said. “And I think I’ll make an offer on those quilts we saw.”

“Good idea,” Mac said. “They always sell.”

I nodded in agreement. “Oh, and Sam’s buying the new guitar, the Rickenbacker. I’ll take it up to my office. And Jess is going to try to come get those boxes this afternoon.”

He nodded. “All right.” He was eyeing the table and I knew his attention was already there.

I walked over to meet Rose and took the quilted bag she was carrying.

“Good morning,” I said. “How’s Maddie?”

“She’s still upset, although she’s trying to hide it. She stayed the night with Charlotte.” She looked up at me. “How long do you think it will take to settle all of this?”

“A few days, at least. They’ll be an autopsy to figure out just how Arthur Fenety died.” I didn’t say that once the police knew what the man had died from, things might just get a lot more complicated.

The quilted tote bag was a lot heavier than it looked. “Rose, what do you have in here?” I asked as we walked over to the back entrance, Elvis leading the way.

“Tea bags,” she said. “And a cherry coffee cake.” She smiled. “And coffee, of course, because I know Mac isn’t that crazy about tea. Oh yes, and some cloth napkins. I really don’t like using so many paper ones. And my fertility-goddess statue.”

I had been just about to unlock the door. I paused, keys in one hand. “Excuse me?” I said. “A what?”