Chapter 18
18
MAY
I moan when I bite into the pasta. Carson sends me a heated look, making me realize the sounds I’m making while I eat. I can’t help it. Who knew Jersey would have the best Italian food I’ve ever eaten in my life? I wipe my mouth, making sure there is no sauce on my face. There’s simply no way to be sexy and eat pasta.
“Don’t you think it’s odd no one has reached out to Mrs. Farrol for a ransom or something?” I ask.
“They still could.”
“True.” Why steal a cat? I mean, of course, they are adorable, but there are cats everywhere. The only reason to take Fitzy would be for money. Not asking for a ransom can only mean one thing. The–
“It has to be personal,” I blurt out. “It’s not the money. Whoever took him is all dressed up and wearing expensive perfume.” They have money. It might not be as much as Mrs. Farrol, not sure anyone has that kind of money, but they have some. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
He smiles indulgently despite my interruption. "I've been thinking about that too."
I snap my fingers, happy to hear that our thought process is on the same track. “So we need to dig into Mrs. Farrol’s past. Find all her enemies. See who might have it out for her and what their reasons are.”
“We can do that while Squirrel works on tracing the drycleaning van and whoever took the plates. I have him digging into the footage around the pet store. The street lights are equipped with cameras. One of them should have a decent shot.”
“I don’t think whoever did this will be easy to miss.” Not based on the description the shop owner gave to Carson.
“I’m sure I’ll have the footage soon.” Carson takes a bite of his steak. He then slices off another piece and offers it to me. I lean forward and open my mouth. It might be okay if we need to wait for information. I don’t want this to end.
It’s not that I don’t want to find Fitzy, because that is obviously the goal here, but I know once we do, all of this will be over. Carson pretty much confirmed that earlier when I mentioned closing the case. His response wasn’t what I had hoped for.
“What kind of enemy could someone like Mrs. Farrol have?” Can the old woman really get up to that much trouble? "I don't believe she is scuttling around town stealing the men of other women."
“Are you sure about that? I mean, you saw that room with the paintings of–” He stops himself, wrinkling his nose slightly, and puts down his knife and fork as if he’s lost his appetite.
“I mean, she’s confident,” I admit. "But I don't see Mrs. Farrol as someone who would chase after anyone."
“Don’t forget we’re dealing with people with a lot of money and likely too much free time on their hands. Mrs. Farrol could have bought something out from under them at an auction or shared gossip. Wealthy people get offended by things we couldn’t imagine hurting regular people’s feelings.”
“Maybe she talked shit about someone’s dog,” I add. "People always carry them around in their purses. I bet Mrs. Farrol would have a few choice words about that.”
Carson chuckles. “There could be a lot of possibilities. Some slight she’s overlooked or never noticed in the first place.”
I nod in agreement. “Where would we even start on something like that? We’ve interviewed most of her staff members and haven’t really come up with anything.”
“We need to look closer at her personal relationships and social circles.”
“The country club!” I shout excitedly. A few people turn toward me, curious about the commotion. “Sorry.” I sink into my seat and apologize.
“Ignore them. I mean, this is Jersey; they should be used to loud, expressive people.” Carson offers me another bite of his food, not embarrassed by my outburst in the slightest. He doesn’t seem to care. It’s kind of badass, actually. He doesn’t give a crap what others might think of him. He really does have cat energy.
"That is, if she belongs to one." I think it’s required if you’re rich. I’m sure it's in the fancy rich people rule book.
“Let’s see.” He pulls out his phone. "When she contacted me, I had some information pulled on her."
“Thinking ahead.”
“Kind of. I wanted to make sure she was legit before I did anything.”
“Oh,” I scrunch my nose. “I did not do that.” I press my hands to my cheeks, feeling them flush. To be honest, it never even occurred to me. “I just jumped on a plane that was sent for me.” Any humor or playfulness we had going drops away. Carson’s expression turns dark. I once again sink down into my chair. "Her TikToks looked legit?" I say, trying to defend myself, but it sounds more like a question.
"You need to be more careful, May." He shakes his head. "Something could have happened to you."
"You're right." I push my food around my plate. "Virgins do sell for a high price." I try to make light of it. "Or in romance books they do."
"May." Carson's tone is filled with warning.
"I’m just kitten around," I joke, attempting again to steer the conversation into lighter territory. “I’ll be more careful going forward.”
“You don’t have to worry as much now that I’m around.” I want to ask if he means that in a temporary kind of way or in a forever kind of way, but I don’t. I reach out and put my hand on his shoulder. He relaxes under my touch, so I start to stroke his arm.
“Thank you.”
His gaze drops to my hand. “Are you petting me?”
“Purr-haps.” I keep doing it. “Would you like me to stop?”
“You can stroke me anytime you like, May.”
“Carson,” I whisper, that heat returning to my cheeks again.
“There actually is a country club.” He pushes his phone toward me.
“That place is fancy.” I swipe through the pictures of the place. “Are we going in undercover?” I get way too excited at this idea. “I’ll be Catarina Chanel but my friends call me CC. We just got engaged and we’re looking for a place to get meow-rried.” Carson chuckles, but he’s not saying no. “Who would you be?”
“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” He leans over toward me. I tilt my head back. “The paw-sibilities are endless.”
Gah! I don’t wait for him to kiss me. I lean up, pressing my mouth to his. Carson is turning out to be too purr-fect to be true.