Chapter 17
17
CARSON
I never talk about Trent. It’s one thing I’ve never been able to work through or get past, so it’s best left alone. But somehow, May manages to dig just deep enough to expose the wound. She may be intuitive when it comes to animals, but she has a good sense for people, too. Or perhaps it’s just me. Sometimes when she looks at me, I feel like she’s reading me like the page of a book. It’s both terrifying and refreshing. To be seen, truly seen.
“Jersey doesn’t look like I thought it would,” she says lightly, clearly changing the subject. Like I said, she notices too much, like my reaction to her questions about my old neighborhood.
I silently thank her. I’m not ready for that conversation. Not yet. Not when it’s still raw, even all these years later. “What did you think it would look like?”
“I saw these old rerun episodes of a show about living in New Jersey. They were all really tan people and lived on a beach and had the brightest, whitest teeth I’ve ever seen. And they were always working out and partying.” She wrinkles her nose at the industrial surroundings–shipping containers and train lines.
My nerves fade, and a smile pulls at my lips. “You mean Jersey Shore ?”
“Yes!” She nods. “That was what it was called.”
“Yeah, we’re not in that part of Jersey.”
“Oh. That makes sense, I guess. I just thought it was sort of the vibe around here.”
“The gym, tan, and laundry is definitely a vibe for all of Jersey, but mostly for college kids or twenty-somethings who have a lot of growing up to do.”
She shrugs. “They seemed to have fun. Lots of drama.”
“You like shows with drama?”
“Oh, yes.” She turns to me. “I like to see how people react. It helps me figure them out.”
“I was just thinking that you seem to have me figured out completely. No stone left unturned.”
“Really?” She smiles big, her cheeks going pink.
“Yep. Maybe I was a cat in my last life.”
“You definitely have some tortitude when people don’t do what you think they should.”
“Tortitude?” I shake my head.
“Tortie cats are like an even spicier version of Mousey–”
I blow out a harsh breath. “Spicier than her? I don’t believe it.”
She nods earnestly. “Oh yes, they get really pissy if you don’t do things their way. Very exacting, and my heavens, the mouths on them. They’ve said some things that I’ve had to google, and then I wiped my search history from sheer mortification.”
“So I’m like a tortie?” I ask.
“Yes. But you’re also like a Maine Coon,” she says thoughtfully as I turn into the pet store parking lot.
“The gigantic ones you told me about?” I tease.
“Yep. They’re sort of like cat hardware with dog software. Very intelligent, loyal, sort of a nanny cat–they take care of everyone. Nosy, strong, and strong-willed, too.”
“Now that sounds more like me.”
She giggles. “But they have cattitude, too. So don’t think you’re off the spicy hook.”
“Any other breeds I need to know about?” I ask.
“All of them. We can have daily lessons.”
I lean toward her, my lips grazing hers. “You teach the daytime lessons. I’ll instruct at night.”
Her eyes widen, and I kiss her, tasting her again, knowing I can’t get enough. Her tongue strokes against mine, and she turns her head so I can go deeper. She grips my shirt, hanging on to me as I lean into her more, taking up her space, filling her senses with how delicious we are like this.
When I finally let her come up for air, her eyes have that sexy dazed look.
“Professional,” she murmurs. “We’re professionals.”
“Absolutely.” I cup her cheek, running my thumb along her soft skin. “You can stay here. I’ll just go in and–”
“No, I’m coming.” She glances at the plate glass windows of the pet store, a cage full of kittens right up front. There’s a giant poster of a puppy in a Santa hat advertising a sale.
“You sure?”
She nods, blinking away the desire. “This is my job. I have to help find Fitzy. I can’t very well do that while sitting in the car.”
“All right.” I get out and go around to her side, helping her up. “But if you start feeling uncomfortable, tell me. I’ll get you out of there. Deal?”
She takes my hand, her palm suddenly clammy. “Deal.”
I hate her discomfort, but I respect her insistence on following through.
“Let’s go.” She steps forward. “I’ll do the talking.”
We enter the shop, the air pleasantly scented with cedar as some puppies yip at each other and roll around in a carpeted crate by the cash register.
“Welcome in,” an older lady calls from the middle aisle where she’s arranging some dog toys in a bin.
“Hi,” May chirps, her voice tight. “We, um, we heard there was a car–well, not a car,” she amends. “We heard there was a license plate… from a car.” She gestures over her shoulder with her thumb. “And we, we wanted–you know–we wanted to know if–”
“I’m sorry.” The lady walks toward us and fidgets with her ear. “My aid went to sleep, but it’s cooking now. What were you saying?”
May lets out a long, flustered breath.
“We’re investigating a missing persons case and have discovered someone stole the license plates from a car in front of this store. Do you have any footage of the incident we could see?”
May squeezes my hand. “Thank you,” she whispers.
“Oh, those were my plates.” The woman frowns. “Stole ‘em clean off my Mercedes just a few days ago.”
May wanders off to the kitten cage.
“Sorry to hear that, ma’am. I was hoping we could get a look at your camera footage.”
She pulls a pair of glasses from her front apron pocket and puts them on as she looks up at the camera pointing toward the register. Her nametag says Frankie. “Those? They’re just for show. Haven’t worked in a decade, maybe longer.”
Shit .
“How do you know?” May says from somewhere behind the shelves.
The woman looks that way, cocking her head toward the sound of May’s voice. “Is she talking to me?” Frankie asks.
“No, she’s–”
“But that doesn’t mean the same person did the–oh! Thank you. I love this shirt too… No, you’re adorable… No, you are!”
Frankie gives me a strange look. “Your friend okay?”
“She’s great.” I try to give her a disarming smile.
She doesn’t return it.
“Did anything unusual happen that day?” I ask while May giggles sweetly.
“Other than some hooligan stealing my plates? No.” She turns to go back to stocking the bin, then pauses. “I take that back. A lady came in here. She was wearing some sort of crazy getup, like she was going dancing at Studio 54 right after she got done buying kitty litter. Had a hat the size of a flying saucer. Now that was strange.”
“And she bought kitty litter?”
“Yeah, and a few other things.”
“Do you have her credit card information?”
“Another strange thing–she paid cash in big bills and told me to keep the change. The change was about fifty dollars.” She shakes her head.
“She didn’t have a pet with her?”
“No. Not that I saw. Unless she was hiding it under the hat.” She shrugs.
The shop door opens with the tinkle of a bell. “Hey, Frankie, got any more of that special diet cat food from last time?” A man strides in, then stops when he sees me, his eyes going wide. “Oh, sorry, didn’t know you were busy.”
“I was just leaving.” I give Frankie a nod. “Thanks for your help.”
“Anytime. Hope you find what you’re looking for.” She looks past me. “Gene. Yep, got another shipment just yesterday. Come on, I’ll show you.”
I head to the front of the store where I find May kneeling down and petting a large gray and white striped cat with a bobbed tail.
“I know. He’s big, right?” May smiles up at me. “Carson, this is Mama Kitty, Mama Kitty, this is Carson.”
“Hi, Mama Kitty.” Yep, May’s got me saying hello to cats now.
“Any info from Frankie?” she asks.
“A little. Still not much to go on, but I’m going to pull some more strings to find out about her one odd customer that day.”
“The woman in the hat?” May asks.
I may have doubted her at the very start when I first met her at Mrs. Farrol’s house, but that doubt was already wiped away. If it hadn’t been, the fact that May knows about the woman in the hat despite the fact she was too far away to hear Frankie tell me about it might have done the trick.
“That’s the one.”
She stands, her eyes shining. “She’s behind it. I just know it.”
“How?”
“The smell.” She taps the side of her nose. “Mama Kitty noticed a strong smell, like some sort of fancy perfume, on the woman. Said it lingered for hours afterwards.”
“You think it’s the same odd scent Mousey mentioned?” I ask.
“I think so. I think she might be the key to solving this.”
She waves goodbye to the cat and all the kittens. “Lovely meeting you all.”
I open the front door and lead her out. “You seemed to handle that okay.”
“Oh, Frankie treats them great. It’s not one of those bad pet stores at all.” She smiles. “They’re happy. Mama Kitty is a stray, and Frankie took her in, helped her have the kittens, and had her spayed and treated. It really is a good shop, as far as shops go.”
“I’m glad it didn’t bother you.” I open her car door.
“Where to now?” she asks.
“Lunch. I’ll check in with Squirrel, see what leads he’s turned up. If she was dressed that loudly, I think we have a good chance of catching her on someone’s cameras.”
“And then we’ll be even closer to finding Fitzy and closing this case.”
“You got it.” I close her car door, then realize what she said. When we find Fitzy, the case is over. When we find the cat, May will return to her life, and I’m supposed to return to mine. The thought doesn’t sit well.
I suppose I’ll just have to convince May that Fitzy isn’t the end for us. Fitzy is only the beginning.