The Extortion Cat-astrophe: A Beatrice Young Cozy Cat Mystery (Beatrice Young Cozy Cat Mysteries Book 2) (6 page)

Nathan retired almost immediately, exhausted from his overwhelming day. That left Matthew and Beatrice. She made a pot of chocolate chai tea and lit candles by the window seat alcove. A brisk wind whistled through the cracks in the windows and whipped through the brittle leaves on the trees outside, sending them cascading through the moonlit sky.

The two of them curled up on opposite sides of the cushy seat, mugs clasped in their hands. Matthew’s feet were bare and she tucked a blanket over his toes to stop him from getting a chill. Hamish and Lucky curled up between them, purring.

“Aren’t you nervous?” Matthew asked. “Whoever keyed Nate’s car will figure out pretty quickly that he’s probably with you or me.”

Beatrice shrugged. “Well, it’s about time I got some use out of my home alarm system. People who know me are too afraid of Hamish and Lucky. There’s an urban legend floating around that they’re some kind of crazy, ninja cats.”

“Baseball bat still in the same spot?”

“Which one? You know I have five.”

Matthew chuckled. “Okay then. You know what, Bee? Our friendship is proving pretty dangerous for me. Why do I keep finding myself running from guns and crazed extortionists now?”

“Price of being buddies with me. Just be happy that we’re not married. Now that would incur a heavy tax. Heavier than running from murderers, I’d bet.”

He snorted, stretched his legs out, and groaned with pleasure. “I wouldn’t mind being married again.”

Beatrice blinked. “What? To whom?”

“I don’t know. A woman, I guess. I’ve never gone the other way.”

She kicked him gently. “C’mon Matt, don’t kid around. Don’t you think you’re a little, uh,
old
to get married.”

He glared at her. “I thought we weren’t supposed to use the ‘O’ word.”

“Sorry. Sorry.”

He leaned back and stared absently out the window. “I dunno. Don’t you ever get tired of being alone?”

“Alone? I have you. You have me. We both have the cats. What else could we possibly need?”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “We both know it’s not the same as being married to someone. Having that one person you spend your life with. Or in our case, whatever life we have left.”

“But you’re not allowed to be married. Who would be my best friend?” She felt a sudden, unfamiliar stab of pain in her gut.

“It’s just an idea, Bee. I have to convince some lady first. That might take a while.”

Silence fell over them and the wind continued to sigh and moan outside. Hamish began to snore softly and Matthew followed soon after. Beatrice was so preoccupied with the idea of Matthew having brunch and taking road trips with someone else that she didn’t move either. Then sleep overtook her and that was that.

What followed were a couple of peaceful hours of dreamless sleep. That is, until Beatrice was startled awake by frantic meowing and kneading on her chest. She spat out a mouthful of hair as Hamish relentlessly butted her head with his.

“Hammy! Geez! What the heck…”

Lucky sprang up on Matthew and tried to crawl up into his hair. He woke up wheezing and sneezing. That’s when Beatrice heard a window rattling near the front of the house. Someone was trying to get in.

“Positions!” Beatrice hissed.

They both sprang up and grabbed different baseball bats.

“Why isn’t the alarm sounding?” Matthew whispered.

She shrugged helplessly and grabbed the house phone out of its charger. Dialing 911, she cradled the phone in the crook of her neck as she waited for the call to come through.

“It’s going to take forever for the cops to get out here at this hour,” Matthew said.

“Guess I’ll be practicing my swing then,” Beatrice replied. When the operator finally answered, Beatrice swiftly gave her the details. Then there was a crash at the window and she let the phone drop as she, Matthew, and the cats ran towards the sound.

What greeted them was a mound of shattered glass in the front hall. It didn’t look like anyone had come in. Which made sense, because the next thing they heard was another window shattering farther down.

“They’re just trying to scare us,” Beatrice whispered. “Well, I’m scared—of the
bill
I’m going to get for these darn windows. Blast it!”

Hamish suddenly leapt through the broken window and disappeared into the night. There was silence, the sound of more breaking glass, and then a high-pitched scream followed by yowling and intense hissing.”

“Raccoon!” yelled a distinctly female voice. Lucky leapt out the window too and disappeared into the blackness.

They could hear sounds of tussling, muffled swearing, and then footsteps crunching down the gravel driveway just as a siren began its wail from afar. Nathan appeared downstairs in a plaid housecoat, bug-eyed. Beatrice rushed to the front door and shoved it open.

The porch light was already on but there was nothing to be seen, it was so dark beyond the small pool of brightness. Hamish and Lucky came trotting up, looking pleased as punch.

“
Good
guard cats,” Beatrice cooed. “And people think they need a dog? Fiddlesticks.”

Lucky strolled up to her and deposited a few strands of long hair he had clenched in his teeth. Beatrice delicately picked them up and examined them close to one of the porch lights. The hair was a distinct purplish-black color.

“It was a woman!” She looked over at Matthew. “The sheriff is sure going to be interested in this.”

14

The next few days went by in a blur. Beatrice was busy filing insurance claims and getting a contractor to come out and replace her windows, not to mention running the café. There were plenty of people in town for the upcoming Fall Fair and they crowded the Cozy Cat Café from morning to night.

That meant that she had to leave it up to the sheriff to investigate the source of the long purple hair. Meanwhile, Matthew and Nathan were bunking with the sheriff in his modest bungalow while Beatrice slept on Zoe’s couch with the cats. She lived in a secure low-rise apartment building and Beatrice figured that with Hamish by her side she would be A-OK.

Saturday was a whirl as Beatrice baked up the final version of the pie-cake extravaganza for the fair. It wasn’t the most difficult recipe to make; it just involved a lot of steps and plenty of assembly. The cats were kept well away from the proceedings that time, though they watched intently from behind the cat gate.

Sunday morning saw Beatrice up early and transporting her creation to the Ashbrook Fall Fair. The fair was held in the old exhibition grounds just outside of town. There were a series of lofty warehouse-like spaces amid the fields used for horse jumping and cattle pulls. A dense spruce forest sat behind.

Abigail was already in the judging area when Beatrice showed up. She was chatting with George, her ex-husband and a judge, at her spot at the very front. A large, dark mesh cloth covered her entry. Abigail waved as Beatrice came in.

“You’re down there,” she said, pointing way down the line of tables.

Beatrice muttered something inappropriate and carried her entry over to where her placard sat. A few other contestants milled around, chatting while holding paper cups of coffee. The space smelled faintly of sweet hay.

She put down her heavy cake, sighed, and looked around for Matthew. She hadn’t seen him much in the last few days. He had been working and had only popped into the café briefly here and there to check up on her. She found herself missing him.

At least she had the cats for company. They milled around eagerly, wearing special red bandanas for the occasion. The two had reached such a level of fame in Ashbrook that everyone who saw them wanted to pat them or take a photo. Beatrice was just waiting for the day when there would be a cat competition at the Fall Fair.
That
she was sure to win.

Zoe was the first friend she spotted. The café was closed for the day so that they could all enjoy the fair. Zoe wore her usual uniform of Converse sneakers, skinny jeans, and hoodie. Her long dark bangs almost covered her eyes. She rushed up and hugged Beatrice.

“No matter what happens you’ll always be the winner in my heart,” she said, smiling broadly.

Beatrice was touched. “That’s the spirit. Who says we can’t learn from the young?”

Zoe punched her playfully. “So you’re the only one watching the cats? How are you going to keep them from feasting on everything in this room?”

“They know they have to be on their best behavior—on the pain of death. Anyone who breaks the cat code of conduct is going to kitty jail, i.e. the basement, for life.”

Zoe looked over her shoulder. “Well, I gotta go for now. Hunter’s here.”

Beatrice gave her the evil eye. “Oh boy. Alright, have fun.”

She set up the cake properly and walked about, assessing the other entries. There were beautiful apple-ginger-crumb pies and strawberry rhubarb layer cakes and delicate tarts arranged with artful arrays of glazed fruit. Abigail’s dessert was a triple chocolate layer cake with meticulously arranged whipped cream and shaved chocolate curls on top. It was as gorgeous as Beatrice imagined it was delicious. It was a safe bet, but effective.

“Chocolate on chocolate on chocolate,” she mumbled to herself. “I should have just done
that
.”

“Bee!” she heard and turned. Matthew strode through the crowd, Nathan hot on his heels. Her ex was dressed nattily in dark slacks, a navy denim collared shirt, and a knit cardigan. Smiling broadly, he swept her up in a big hug.

“Congrats! Sorry we’re late,” Matthew said. “Someone punctured my tires. And Nate’s tires. And the sheriff’s tires. In short, there were a lot of deflated tires this morning. We ended up taking a cab. What a disaster.”

Beatrice looked up at him with a worried expression. “I’m so sorry, Matt. The sheriff hasn’t made any discoveries, huh?”

Matthew shook his head. “He’s been hunting for our purple-haired friend but there are no matches so far. I just hope they catch her so that I can go home. Mindy, the sheriff’s wife, is stuffing us with so many eggs and bacon I feel like my arteries are going to explode. I shouldn’t complain. They’re great. But I do miss my own bed.”

Beatrice hugged Nathan too. He looked red-eyed and exhausted. She guessed he hadn’t been sleeping well. Her heart went out to him.

“The judging’s not for another hour or so, want to walk around a bit and get something to eat?”

Matthew clutched his stomach and groaned. “Just coffee for me.”

15

They left the cake in the care of another contestant and they went over to the food area, the cats trotting alongside. There were the typical offerings including a lobster boil, roasted corn, and funnel cakes.

Since it was still early, Beatrice decided on a little stand that made breakfast sandwiches with local eggs and rosemary scones. They sat at a picnic table together, Beatrice chowing down as the others sipped piping-hot coffee.

Matthew was talking about a new Junior Rangers program he was starting. It would help kids learn more about the park and its services. Beatrice was distracted because Lucky was circling around the table aimlessly, meowing and looking upset. Hamish watched him closely without expression.

Suddenly Lucky took off like a shot across the lawn, headed in the direction of a woman with an adolescent girl. Beatrice looked eagerly at the woman’s head but she had bright blonde hair, not purple. That is, until Lucky leapt onto a nearby picnic table and took a flying leap at her. Beatrice gasped audibly and grabbed Matthew’s arm.

“He’s gone nuts!” she said. “I shouldn’t have been giving him so much catnip lately!”

Except that Lucky landed on the woman’s shoulder, put his claws into the blonde hair, and then dragged it off as he leapt to the ground. Clenching the wig in his mouth, he dashed back towards Beatrice as if bringing her a freshly killed mouse.

There was a moment of silence as everyone tried to figure out what had just happened. The woman clutched her head in disbelief—a head full of purple-black hair.

Beatrice’s voice cut through the quiet: “Stop her! She’s the one who broke into my house.”

The woman wasted no time in elbowing her daughter out of the way and then taking off like a shot. Unfortunately, she was right on the edge of the food area and, therefore, able to duck through the tents and disappear. The deputy, who just happened to be enjoying a corn dog with his family nearby, leapt up and went into hot pursuit.

Beatrice looked at Matthew, open-mouthed. Unexpectedly, he was smiling. “What are you so happy about?”

He held up his smartphone. “And you said I would never learn to use this thing. Took a photo of her, with zoom.” He clicked over to the photo. “Well, it’s really fuzzy. I never said it would be a
good
photo.”

Beatrice took the wig from Lucky. It was surprisingly light. “Well, if that doesn’t help, hopefully we can get some DNA from this thing. Good kitty,” she said emphatically to the black cat rubbing her legs.

He blinked his big green eyes and began to purr loudly. Hamish stared at him like he had never seen Lucky do something like that before. Which he hadn’t, not really.

“He learned from the best,” Beatrice said to the big Maine Coon. “You should be proud—
you
taught him.” She checked her watch. “Oh my goodness! The judging for the baking competition is right now.”

Beatrice Young wasn’t much of a runner. She much preferred long walks. But that day she performed a sprint like never before. With Nathan and Matthew hot on her heels, she wove in and out of the crowds as she made her way towards the judging area.

That’s when she spotted a woman she had never seen before standing on the stage, shaking the judges’ hands. Beatrice halted, open-mouthed.

“Congrats to Alicia Jones for her lemon cream cake,” said the judge at the microphone. “Simple and perfect—the lemon flavor really shines through.”

“Simple?” Beatrice muttered. “No one told me the recipe was supposed to be
simple
.”

“And now for second place … it goes to Beatrice Young, owner of the Cozy Cat Café, for her inventive creation, The Double Layer Pie-Cake.”