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 every 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.”

“You’re kidding,” my mother said. “Is he?”

“Of course not! Jeez, Mom. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am on your side! But I had to ask.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a stupid question,” I grumbled. But how did I know that, really? JJ had been a stray living in the local cemetery when I found him sitting near my grandma’s grave after her funeral this past summer. He followed me home one day, and I’d known from that moment that we were meant for each other. He’d found me during a huge transition period in my life, and it was no accident. If this mystery lady was a regular visitor, maybe she had adopted a cat or brought a cat over with her for her vacation and he got lost.

But no matter where JJ had come from before we’d met, there was no doubt that the two of us had adopted each other that day. And this woman wasn’t going to convince me otherwise.

“Well, what happened?” my mother demanded.

“Grandpa threw her out.”

She disguised her laugh with a cough. “I don’t doubt it. So what are you going to do?”

“Hope she gets on the next ferry and leaves me alone,” I said with a sigh. “Lucas and I have a date tonight and I’m not even in the mood to go anymore.”

“Oh, honey. You shouldn’t worry,” my mother said. “Grandpa wouldn’t let anything happen to JJ.”

“I know. It was just unsettling.” I tried to shake it off and tucked the phone between my ear and my shoulder while I perused my collection of scarves. It wasn’t even Thanksgiving yet, but winter had hit Daybreak. Plus, there was the threat of this nor’easter coming our way over the next few days. Not necessarily snow, although there could be some of that, but high winds, rain, and overall nastiness. The type of weather that canceled ferries and left us stranded over here. These were the days when I wondered what had ever possessed me to leave California.

“I can imagine. What’s Val up to?”

I grinned. “She has her hands full with Ava-Rose Buxton, which I hear you’re responsible for?”

“Oy,” my mother said. “I thought I was doing her a favor. I guess it’s not going well?”

“I think Val’s having a blast,” I said honestly. “She looked happy today even when she was rolling her eyes about going to a meeting to discuss linens. Hey, by the way. Do you know who Jason Holt is?”

“Of course,” she said immediately. “He’s one of my favorite authors. I’ve been reading all his books. It’s so helpful to read well-written books while I’m writing my own. Why?”

Now I felt even guiltier for my cluelessness. “Well, he’s actually here. On the island. He’s been working here in the cafe lately.”

“What?” my mother screeched. “And you’re just getting around to telling me this? I need to come talk to him! Do you think he’ll give me some tips? I have to pick out an outfit!”

I bit back a giggle. My mother was one of a kind. “Honestly, I didn’t recognize him until Val told me,” I confessed. “And he’s been pretty wrapped up in whatever he’s working on. But he’s coming back tomorrow. He paid for the week. I’ll see if he seems open to fan conversations and I’ll call you. Okay?”

“I’m not just a fan,” she said indignantly. “I’m a fellow writer looking for a conversation about craft. I’m coming either way. You know I can work my charms on anyone. Oh, I’m so excited! I can’t believe Jason Holt is here! At my daughter’s cafe! I’m telling all my friends.”

I cringed, sorry I’d mentioned it at all. If Holt wanted a fan club, he would’ve made his presence known. The last thing I needed was a parade of people disrupting his work, prompting him to give me a bad review or something.

“Mom, don’t tell your friends. He seems really private. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? I have to get in the shower.”

“Fine. But I’m definitely coming,” she said. “Now don’t worry about JJ. Grandpa will take care of it. Promise?”

I promised and hung up. But it was easier said than done. I knew logically that this woman couldn’t get to JJ, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was still something to worry about. I just couldn’t put my finger on what.