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Paige pulled the Jeep in behind Scott’s beat-up old car and got out. She stood in her brother’s driveway for a second, wondering how she was going to sneak Casper into the house. Sarah claimed to be allergic to cats and would freak out if she saw him. Luckily, Paige was the type who liked to carry large purses in which she could keep anything and everything she might need throughout the day. Her handbag was more than big enough for the small white cat to fit into.
Cats don’t particularly like being stuffed into purses, and Casper was no exception. Luckily, he was a good-natured kitty who didn’t try to claw or bite Paige when she lowered him down on top of her wallet—he simply yowled a lot and gave her a scandalized look. He seemed to think it was highly undignified to be placed into and carried around in a woman’s handbag.
“Casper, be quiet! If you want to come into the nice house and have a cozy place to sleep tonight, you have to be silent so Sarah doesn’t hear you. Otherwise, she’ll kick you out, and you’ll have to catch a mouse for dinner.”
Casper cocked his head while he listened to Paige, and he seemed to understand her. He also appeared not to think too highly of eating a raw rodent for supper, because he lay down in the bottom of her purse and quieted himself. He did give her one last critical glare before she zipped the handbag up halfway.
Paige slid through the front door as quietly as possible and hightailed it up the stairs and into the bedroom she’d slept in the night before. She closed the door behind her and promptly let Casper out. “See?” she whispered. “I told you it wouldn’t be a big deal. Now, you should probably sleep under the bed, just in case Sarah comes in with some laundry or something.”
Casper’s expression, though not human, was clearly understandable. He did not intend to reduce himself to hiding under the bed like a common stray.
“You know, she may not even be allergic. She might just want to keep cats out of her house. I hope so,” Paige said softly as she dug a T-shirt out of her suitcase. She dropped to her hands and knees, moved the bed’s comforter aside, and arranged the shirt into the shape of a cat bed. “There! See? Super cozy.” She patted the shirt. The difficult cat just stared at her.
Paige sighed. “Listen,” she whispered in a firmer tone. “You’re a cat. Sarah doesn’t want you here. You need to hide if you want to stay.”
Casper yawned, and she thought he was going to ignore her, but then he stood up, straightened himself out to stand as tall as possible, and held his head high as he sauntered forward. He climbed onto the shirt, turned in a circle twice, and lay down.
“Good kitty.” Paige patted the soft white head and let the comforter fall down to hide him.
Her eyes fell on her suitcase as she crossed the tiny room to the upright dresser. She pulled open one of the drawers and found it empty. A quick check showed her there was nothing in the entire dresser. She tapped out a little drumbeat with her fingers on top of the dark piece of furniture and sucked in her bottom lip. After she thought for a moment, she closed the drawer firmly and turned her back to it.
She didn’t need to unpack. Italy was still there as was the chance she could go back and finish her novel. Okay, it was a tiny chance, but Paige wanted to hold on to it. To make it work, she’d have to sell the bookstore quickly, get the money, and head to Portofino. It was a long shot—even she knew that—but it was still possible.
And if the worst should happen and she had to stay in Comfort Cove, it wouldn’t be in her brother’s house. She loved Scott and Sarah and appreciated their generosity, but she needed her own space. And a refrigerator that had milk, cheese, and bacon in it. And chocolate. Dark, rich chocolate.
So, she wouldn’t unpack. That would save her time when she was ready to leave.
She snorted at herself. How much quicker could she possibly exit this house just because she didn’t have to grab a few outfits and some socks and underwear back out of a drawer? She was being absurd and stubborn, and she knew it. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She didn’t care. It wasn’t time to give up on Italy and everything it represented to her, and even though keeping all her stuff in the suitcase was largely symbolic, it made her feel a little better in the moment.
“Paige? Dinner’s ready!” Scott’s voice floated up the stairs.
“Be right down.” As she approached the door to the hallway, she turned back and spoke softly into the room. “I’ll work on figuring out a litter box for you.”
She ran down the stairs and inhaled the delicious scent of roasted chicken. For a moment, she let herself believe something crazy had happened—maybe a lightning bolt struck Sarah’s head or something—and her sister-in-law might have made real, scrumptious food for dinner.
But when she got to the dining room table, she knew immediately that wasn’t the case. You might be able to make tofu smell like chicken, but you couldn’t make it look right. A squishy, wobbly brown blob sat on a platter in the middle of the table. A big bowl of salad and a couple other serving trays filled with vegetables sat around it. The table was set for three, and a bottle of wine was open and airing.
“Sit wherever you want, Paige,” Sarah said, a bright smile on her face. “Would you like some water?”
“Yes, please.” As much as she was dreading having to eat the main dish, Paige could see that her sister-in-law had worked hard on the meal. Sarah was really a sweetheart and deserved grateful diners. Besides, Paige loved salad, so she figured she’d take a small portion of “chicken” and a big bowl of greens.
Sarah brought the water back into the dining room. She sneezed and grabbed a tissue from a box on a side table. She sneezed again and picked the whole box up and dropped it next to her place setting.
The three of them sat down, loaded their plates, and began eating.
The tofu was horrible, defying its pleasant odor, and Paige ate her whole serving at once to get rid of it while she shared the news about Aunt Nora’s will with Sarah. “I went to the bookstore after I left her house. I was going to start working on going through things and cleaning up, but I got spooked by a noise in the attic.” Paige grinned. “I’m such a dork. It was probably a squirrel or something, but I took off like a monster was chasing me.”
She expected her brother to tease her, but instead, he shot an unreadable look at his wife, who returned it. Paige thought they both seemed concerned. Did they think there was something sinister about the noise she’d heard? “What?” Her head swiveled from Scott to Sarah and back.
Sarah sneezed and then busied herself with the tissue.
“Nothing,” Scott assured her.
Paige wasn’t sure she really believed him but knew there was no way to get him to elaborate if he didn’t want to. Her brother was tailor-made for detective work—he had a great poker face and his tongue never got away from him.
He changed the subject quickly and efficiently. “How does the Jeep handle?”
Paige raised one eyebrow to let him know she was aware he wasn’t telling her something. She finished chewing her bite of tofu and swallowed before she answered. “Great. I wish I had some kind of mountain to climb with it. It’s definitely a little overkill for around here.”
“They sell impounded cars at the police department. I can look around and see what we have right now if you want. It won’t be affordable to keep driving the rental for very long.” He took a big bite of salad and munched away.
She looked up at her brother without moving her head and didn’t answer him right away. She didn’t want to think about buying a car. She wanted to turn the rental in and go back to her house in Italy to finish her book. Still, he was kind of right about how much it would cost to keep the Jeep indefinitely. She could buy an impound for cheap and then have Scott sell it for her when she left. Finally, she nodded. “Okay, yeah. Take a look for me and see if they have anything reasonably priced. Thanks.”
Her mind shifted immediately to living arrangements. Maybe she should think about renting a room somewhere too. She didn’t want to put Scott and Sarah out.
She glanced at her sister-in-law. Sarah wasn’t eating. In fact, she looked miserable. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she held a tissue to her nose, which had turned into a running spout.
Sarah sneezed three times. “Ach!” she said. “What is wrong with me? I haven’t felt like this since . . .” Understanding seemed to dawn in her face and she pierced Paige with a hard stare. “Since I visited my friend Cate and her three cats. Did you get cat dander on you at the bookshop?”
Paige stuffed some broccoli into her mouth to stall for time. She opened her eyes wide and gazed at her sister-in-law, who sneezed and wheezed back at her. Okay, Sarah really was allergic to cats. That much was obvious. Paige swallowed, took a sip of water, and then fessed up quietly. “Actually, I brought Casper home.” At Sarah’s enraged face, Paige hurried to explain more. “The loud noise in the attic spooked me, and I didn’t want to leave him there for the monster to eat or something.” She lowered her eyes and mumbled, “I’m sorry. I’ll take him back to the shop first thing in the morning. And I’ll vacuum the guest room up well.”
“Ugh. I’m going to bed. Honey, will you clean up the dishes?” Scott nodded, and Sarah pushed her chair back, grabbed the box of tissues, and shuffled out of the room.
“You know,” Paige began, but her brother lifted his hand to silence her. He pointed toward the ceiling and then his own ear. Did he want her to listen? What was wrong? She stayed silent, straining to figure out what she should be hearing. The only sounds came from upstairs, where Sarah moved around. Then Paige heard a faint creaking noise. That must be her sister-in-law climbing into bed.
Scott nodded once, stood up, and crept across the dining room to a big china cabinet. He opened it and reached to the top shelf and into a large metal bowl. When he drew his hand out, it held a paper bag that said Just Baked, which he carried back to the table. He carefully opened it and pulled two large chocolate chip cookies out. He handed Paige one. “I don’t have any milk. It’s too hard to hide it. But I do have these.” He smiled broadly and then bit into his cookie, closing his eyes.
Paige giggled and bit into her own cookie. It tasted like heaven. They munched away in silence for a time before Scott asked, “So what are you going to do with the bookstore?”
She frowned and dug in the paper bag for another cookie. She stuffed some in her mouth and spoke around it. “I don’t know. I didn’t plan on being in Comfort Cove for very long, but it’s not acting like it wants to let me go. Again.”
“Maybe things will get clearer in the next couple days. We have Aunt Nora’s memorial service to think about, and that should distract you.”
Paige’s phone buzzed, and she pulled it out, glanced at it, and then rolled her eyes. It was Marco texting her again. He’d been doing it a few times a day. She mostly didn’t respond but gave one curt reply daily so he’d know she was alive and wouldn’t call the authorities or something.
Fast on the heels of Paige’s phone making a noise, Scott’s began to ring. He grabbed it off a holder on his belt and answered. He listened for a second and then said, “Oh, hello, Dr. Rubin.” He was silent for another minute, and Paige watched his brow furrow deeper as he listened. He thanked the doctor and ended the call. “That was the doctor from the hospital the other night,” he said. “They found a strange substance in Aunt Nora’s body. A drug.” He winced as the words left his mouth. “He said she could have purposely taken it or gotten it by accident.”
Paige could tell that wasn’t all. He might have a good poker face, but he was still her brother, and she knew the twitch in his jaw meant he was upset. “Or?” she prodded.
“Or it could have been murder.”