The Tell Tail Heart Read online

  She scratched his ears, then plucked at his scruff. “He seems dehydrated,” she remarked, pointing at the slow return of his fur back to its rightful place. “If the fur doesn’t snap back right away, that’s what that means.”

  I nodded, trying to keep a pleasant smile on my face. Years of rescue work had taught me when a cat was dehydrated, and who was this woman anyway? “Yes, he has an appointment this week with the vet. He’s new to the cafe, and had his checkup when he was first rescued, but he hasn’t been feeling himself the past day or so. Would you like a tour?” I asked, before she could offer any more opinions.

  “That would be lovely.”

  I motioned for her to follow me into the cafe area. “We’re doing some remodeling, which will be much more conducive to the setup I want.…” I trailed off when I realized the woman wasn’t behind me anymore. She’d stopped in her tracks, staring at the writer sitting at his table. Apparently she wasn’t as clueless as me, and had recognized him.

  And for the first time all day, Jason Holt seemed to realize someone was paying attention to him. His gaze drifted up from the computer and met the woman’s. Their eyes locked, and something passed through the room that didn’t give me the warm fuzzies.

  The woman broke eye contact first and turned back to me with a smile that looked forced—and a bit manic, making the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth stand out even more. I couldn’t figure out if she was older than I’d originally thought or younger than the wrinkles made her look. “So where are the rest of the cats?” she asked brightly.

  “Oh, they’re around,” I said. “They have a bunch of places where they like to hang out. There’s a couple in the tree over there, and there’s one up in the window perch.” I pointed, but the woman was once again not paying attention. I followed her gaze to where JJ had just sauntered into the room, fresh off his afternoon nap. He sat, looked up at her, and squeaked—his signature sound, part of what made him so famous and adored in island circles. “Hey, bud.” I reached down to scoop him up and give him a kiss. I grinned at the woman over his head. “This is JJ.”

  Her eyes widened. “The cat from the paper. The mascot. That’s really him?”

  Smiling, I nodded. “It’s him. He’s—”

  “My cat,” the woman said, staring at him.

  I could feel the smile fade right off my face. “Excuse me?”

  She looked at me, tears suddenly springing into her eyes. “My cat. That’s my cat. My goodness, I never thought I’d see him again!”

  Chapter 3

  I took a step back from the woman’s reaching hands, clutching JJ protectively closer to my chest. He squeaked his disapproval of my manhandling. “I’m sorry—this isn’t one of the cafe cats. This is my cat.”

  The woman frowned, her gaze fixed on JJ, taking in his rusty orange color, the ear that was slightly bent from some ear mites that hadn’t been treated when he’d been a stray living in the graveyard, and his giant paws. “That’s Pumpkin,” she insisted. “I’d know him anywhere. When I saw his picture, I thought it could be him, and I had to come see for myself. He had a little … ah! There you go,” she said triumphantly, peering around my body to point at his nose. “He had that little discolored spot on his nose. It’s been there since he was a kitten. He’s got such a distinctive face anyway. Those cheeks.” She reached for them and I pulled away. “Oh, my, I can’t believe I’ve found him!” She looked like she might cry again.

  I felt dizzy, and a little bit like I might vomit. But I stood my ground and—I hoped—kept my expression as cool as the fresh cucumbers Ethan had brought home for his special farmer’s salad earlier. “Ma’am,” I said firmly. “I’m sure your missing cat probably bears a strong resemblance to my JJ, but I can assure you, this is my cat.” I peered at her, trying to place her face. “Are you a Daybreak resident?”

  She flushed. “No. But I come here every year. And I had…” she trailed off.

  “You had what?” I asked.

  The door to the cafe slammed, making me jump. When I looked up, no one was there, but the table where Jason Holt had been camped out was empty. Apparently he’d bolted at the first sign of drama. I wondered about that: Weren’t writers usually interested in any and all drama? You never knew what could make for a good scene in a book.

  Jeez, Maddie. You have other things to focus on besides his plotting. I refocused on my current problem, who still stared at my cat like she might snatch him out of my arms and run for the next ferry. “Listen. I’m really sorry you lost your cat. But JJ is off the table. I have another orange cat you might be interested in—”

  But before I could point out Sebastian, she cut me off. “I’m sure your other cat is lovely, but this is my cat.” She crossed her arms and fixed a steely stare on me. A challenge.

  The cafe door banged open again, and Lucas stuck his head in, a grin spreading over his adorable face when he saw me. “Hey, Mads!” Then he must’ve seen the look on my face, because his smile faded. He stepped in, pulling his wool hat off his tangled dark hair, and closed the door behind him just as Grandpa emerged from the basement, also walking right into the thick of the tension.

  The woman and I were both frozen in place, neither of us willing to look away. I was afraid to take my eyes off her; I had convinced myself that if I did for even a second she might grab JJ and run.

  Grandpa and Lucas both looked at me questioningly. “What’s going on?” Lucas asked finally. He made it sound like a greeting, but I knew he meant it in the truer sense of the phrase.

  I looked helplessly from him to Grandpa, who could sniff out tension like a bloodhound. He took in the situation with one blink. I watched his bushy white eyebrows pull together, a sure sign that he was concerned, then his face rearranged to a blank, yet pleasant, expression. Cop face. I’d grown up with it, and even though he was retired, he hadn’t lost his touch.

  Grandpa came over, smiling easily at my nemesis, and slid an arm around my shoulders. “Hello. Leo Mancini. Maddie’s grandfather. And former police chief of Daybreak Harbor,” he added, for effect. “We run the cafe. Is there something we can help with?”

  His strategic introduction seemed to throw her. Grandpa was still an imposing fellow, even in the silly cat cafe outfits he insisted on wearing when he was “on duty,” usually shirts with cats doing yoga or the like. His thick head of white hair and bushy white eyebrows gave some people the false impression that he was “just an old guy,” but as soon as he opened his mouth they realized their mistake.

  She faltered for a moment, then recovered. “This woman—er, your granddaughter—has my cat,” she said. “I’ve identified him by a mark on his nose. He was lost as a kitten. And she’s arguing with me!”

  “Which cat?” Lucas asked, at the same time Grandpa said, “This cat?” and put his other hand protectively on JJ’s head. JJ squeaked at him.

  “Yes. That cat.”

  “I’m afraid you must be mistaken,” Grandpa said. “This is my granddaughter’s cat. They adopted each other quite some time ago. I’m sorry you lost your cat, though,” he added, taking her by the arm and leading her to the door. “We’ll definitely keep an eye out. We’re closing now, but thanks very much for stopping by.”

  “But,” she protested, trying to dig her heels in, “I just paid for an hour!”

  I took her fifteen dollars out of my pocket with shaking hands and thrust it at her. She took it, her fingers grazing mine. I flinched at her touch. Her hand was cold and dry and sandpapery.

  Grandpa propelled her to the door, which Lucas promptly opened. She barely had time to pick up her coat from where she’d dropped it, but on her way through the door she reached out and caught the doorjamb.

  “You can’t just throw me out! I’ll go to the police myself. I’m sure being a former police chief doesn’t hold as much weight,” she added, looking Grandpa up and down.

  “Oh, I’m not throwing you out,” Grandpa said smoothly. “You would definitely know the difference. And the police
department is right down the street. Across from the ferry. You can tell them I sent you. Thank you for stopping by.” He closed the door firmly behind her, paused a moment, then locked it. “There,” he said, nodding in satisfaction. “I doubt she’ll be back. And even if she is, she’s old and skinny.” He winked at me. “We can take her.”

  I smiled halfheartedly, recognizing his attempts to lighten the situation, but the encounter had left me shaken.

  Lucas, who had watched the whole exchange in disbelief, came over to me and JJ. “Are you okay?” he asked. “What the heck was that about?”

  “I’m okay.” I bent down and let JJ jump out of my arms. When I stood up, I realized my hands shook.

  That was not the sort of patron I was expecting in my cafe. And what was she talking about, anyway? She didn’t even live on the island, she’d said so herself. How could JJ be hers? She had to be lying. Or crazy. Or both. “And I have no idea. She said he was hers. But he’s not.” I looked up at him, my eyes filling with tears. “He can’t be.” JJ was my little rock. He’d already seen me through some really hard times, and our bond, though short, was super strong.

  “Of course he’s not.” Lucas wrapped me in a hug. I held on, closing my eyes and breathing in his scent. He smelled like outside, and a little bit like a fireplace. It was nice to have someone to lean on, I realized. I’d been missing that for a long time. I mean, I had Ethan, who was my closest friend next to Becky, but it wasn’t the same. I tilted my head and looked up at him, brushing a tear away. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me too.” He hugged me tighter.

  Grandpa cleared his throat from behind me. “Madalyn. Do you know who that woman was?”

  I let go of Lucas and turned to him. “No. Am I supposed to?”

  “I’m curious whether you’ve seen her around,” Grandpa said.

  “I don’t think so. Not lately, anyway. But then, I’ve been back all of six months, so I’m sure I haven’t seen all the seasonal people. She said she didn’t live here. Have you seen her around?”

  Grandpa didn’t answer that. “Stay cautious. There’s always the possibility she may try to get back in here,” he said instead. “I doubt she’ll push her luck, but you should be vigilant. You never know what people are capable of.” He started toward the kitchen, then stopped and picked up a black Moleskin notebook from the floor, where it had fallen halfway under one of the tables. “Yours?”

  As I was still distracted by the crazy woman and Grandpa’s words of caution, it took me a second to focus. I had to really look, because I used Moleskin notebooks all the time—they were my favorites. But this was the notebook Jason Holt had been scribbling in. I shook my head. “No. The guy in here working—a famous author, by the way—left abruptly when she came in. It must be his. The lost and found basket is over there.” I waved at the corner of the cafe near my sign-in book. “He’ll be back tomorrow. He paid for the week.”

  “A famous author, eh?” Grandpa looked impressed. “You’re already attracting some clientele.” He tossed the notebook into the basket on top of the pile of miscellany—a lone glove, a phone charger, a barrette, a key on a plain ring. Then he turned back to me. “Don’t worry, Doll,” he said, using his nickname for me from when I was a kid. “JJ is yours. Everyone knows that.”

  I tried to let his words make me feel better, but they didn’t. Everyone knew JJ and I belonged together—everyone except for this crazy woman, it seemed, and who knew what she was capable of?

  Chapter 4

  After Grandpa disappeared back down to the basement, Lucas turned back to me. “Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t really look it.”

  It was sweet, the way he looked at me with such concern. And I could totally get lost in those sexy blue eyes. Lucas really was hot, with his a little too long, thick dark hair and perfect cheekbones. In this case, he was also right: I didn’t feel okay. My stomach was swirling with anxiety. But I put my brave face on and nodded. “I’ll be fine. As long as she doesn’t come back. I can’t believe that just happened. Why would she claim JJ belongs to her?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, running a gentle hand down my hair. “But we’ll get to the bottom of it. Or your grandpa will, for sure.”

  I hoped so. Grandpa, who had not gone gently into retirement, had set up shop as a “private investigator” when he wasn’t manning the cat cafe and scooping litter. He loved any reason to stay involved in solving crimes, however small, around the island. And since he knew everyone, it wasn’t a stretch for him to be busy a lot. Sometimes he worked on serious things, like tailing a cheating spouse, and other times he was charged with finding stolen bicycles. He loved every minute of it. I had no doubt he’d take my case if I needed him to. And Grandpa always made sure justice prevailed.

  “You’re right,” I said, feeling a little better. “I’m being silly. This was just some nutty woman. She’ll be gone on the next ferry.”

  He nodded. “That’s the spirit. Do you still feel like going out?”

  We were supposed to go for an early dinner—my favorite Thai place was one of the few restaurants on the island that stayed open year-round—and then to see a movie. A classic date night. Despite my confident words, I kind of wanted to stay home and keep an eye on my cat. Or stash him somewhere that woman would never find him. I wondered if I should take him to Becky’s, or Katrina’s. My old friend and former babysitter, Katrina Denning, ran the island’s animal shelter. It was the only place rescuing animals, since the non-profit rescue that used to be on the island had closed up shop a year and a half ago. She’d been a huge proponent of the cafe, mostly because it would help her rescue more animals. She supplied me with the cafe cats, which allowed her to free up more cages. And the cats seemed to find their new homes pretty quickly once they got to the cafe—it had to be that whole comfort level of being in an actual house versus a shelter with dogs barking and ugly metal cages.

  But I was being silly. Grandpa, Ethan, and Val would be around—if not all three, at least one of them—and JJ would be fine. No one would be crazy enough to break into the former police chief’s house. Would they?

  They might be. I knew cat people. We were all a little crazy. Heck, my volunteer Adele Barrows was a terrific example. She lived and breathed for the cats she helped around the island, and she’d fight to the death for any one of them. She’d worked with the former rescue, and also for Katrina. I mostly felt her efforts were noble, but she did get a little carried away sometimes.

  I knew nothing about my mystery visitor—once again, I’d failed to ask for a name—and that stressed me out even more. Grandpa always seemed overly confident in matters like this, which I appreciated, but despite his words, I still felt unsettled.

  But I couldn’t barricade myself in the house with the cat. I took a deep breath. “Of course,” I said. “I just need a few minutes to get ready.”

  “Take your time,” he said. “And really, Mads, we don’t have to go out if you don’t feel like it. As long as I get to hang with you, it’s cool.”

  My heart melted, just a bit. The best part was, I knew he meant it. But I also knew he’d had his heart set on seeing this Avengers movie and I didn’t want him to be disappointed. “I know, sweetie. I’m good. Seriously. Let’s go out. It’ll do me good to get out of here for a bit.”

  * * *

  Lucas insisted on taking care of my typical cafe cleanup while I went up to shower and get ready—which meant scooping litter boxes, cleaning up spilled food and water, freshening blankets, clearing and cleaning tables. Although the only table that had been in use was Jason Holt’s, so aside from the plate and coffee mug, that was a quick job.

  I was grateful for the help. Adele, my volunteer, wasn’t here today, and I felt like I needed a few minutes to regroup a bit. I also wanted to talk to my mom. I was one of those lucky women who actually liked their mothers, and the feeling was mutual, as far as I knew. I was glad to be living in close proximity to her again. We’d talked almost eve
ry day when I lived out west, but that was nothing compared to being able to drive the short distance to the next town and physically see her.

  I located JJ and brought him upstairs with me, depositing him on my pillow, where he promptly curled up into a ball. I surveyed him.

  “That lady doesn’t know what she’s talking about, right?” I asked him.

  He regarded me seriously, not blinking.

  “I mean, regardless of where you came from, you’re supposed to be mine. We’re supposed to be each other’s. You wouldn’t want to go live with her, right?”

  He squeaked, then put his head down, covering his face with his tail. Within seconds he fell fast asleep.

  I took that as a no, closed my bedroom door, and called my mother while I perused my closet for something to wear.

  She answered on the first ring. I could tell by the sound of her voice that she was in the middle of some project or another. Sophie James was nothing if not creative. Since I was a kid, she’d done everything from working as a flower designer to selling handmade jewelry, clothing, blankets, and other creations as an Etsy shop owner. Her latest endeavor was writing a mystery. I wondered if she knew Jason Holt had been on the island. Another reason to feel guilty that I hadn’t realized he had been the random working guy in my café, since I’m sure she would’ve loved to come over and meet him. Although he hadn’t seemed very interested in conversation.

  “The strangest thing happened today,” I said by way of greeting.

  “Good strange or bad strange?” she asked.

  “Bad.”

  “Uh-oh. Do tell.” She’d put her pen down—I could tell by her voice. Although she might be interested only because she thought what I had to tell her could make for a good plot in her book. See what I meant about writers wanting drama?

  “This woman came into the cafe today, and when she saw JJ she started insisting he was her cat. She wasn’t giving it up.”