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“I definitely need a mocha – or something,” Zoe announced when they arrived at the cottage.
“Brrt?” Annie ran to greet them when they entered through the kitchen.
“How is Mrs. Snuggle?” Lauren asked, not wanting to have to tell her fur baby about Gavin.
“Brrp.” Annie gave a little pout.
“Oh, no.” Zoe looked downcast. “You can tell her we brought some more food for her.”
“And you have plenty in our own pantry,” Lauren assured the silver-gray tabby.
“Brrt.” Good. She trotted to the living room, then returned a minute later.
“I’m definitely making a mocha.” Lauren didn’t care if it was after six – or even seven – and the caffeine might keep her awake.
“With lots of chocolate powder.” Zoe grinned for a second, then her face fell.
“Brrt?” Annie jumped onto a kitchen chair and looked at them inquiringly.
Lauren explained what had happened, glossing over the gruesome bits. There were some things Annie did not need to know.
“So maybe we shouldn’t tell Mrs. Snuggle in detail,” Zoe added afterward. “She mightn’t be used to these sorts of things happening, the way we are.”
“Unfortunately,” Lauren said with feeling.
By now, she’d made the coffees, and the three of them sat at the table.
“I wonder what Gavin was doing there,” Zoe mused after taking a sip. “Mmm. Good.”
“Didn’t Virginia say he might stop by the scrapbooking?”
“Martha wasn’t there. Huh. I wonder why not?”
“I guess you’re going to ask her when you see her next.”
“You bet.” Zoe nodded so vigorously, her brunette pixie bangs bounced against her forehead.
“Brrt!” Me too!
“Who could have done it?” Lauren let the warmth of her mocha fill her up – as much as a hot beverage could. She shivered as the scene flashed through her mind.
“Brrp.” Annie nudged her arm.
Lauren slowly stroked her, the velvety soft fur soothing against her fingertips. It was as if Annie could read her mind.
“Someone who didn’t like him,” Zoe replied. “But he was only here for less than a week and only part-time.”
“Didn’t he say he had his own parish in Zeke’s Ridge?”
“That’s right.” Zoe snapped her fingers. “Maybe someone from there followed him and BAM!”
Lauren shuddered, and looked pointedly at Annie.
“Sorry,” Zoe said. She took a big sip. “Maybe we should have our cupcakes now.”
“Good idea.” Lauren opened the cardboard box. “But perhaps I should check on Mrs. Snuggle first.”
“Okay. I’ll make sure to leave you some.” Zoe winked, but it didn’t have her usual jauntiness.
Mrs. Snuggle reposed once more on the pink sofa, her gaze fixed to the television screen. This time she watched a show about artists painting landscapes.
“That looks interesting,” Lauren told her.
Mrs. Snuggle grumbled something she didn’t quite catch.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Lauren sat on the sofa, making sure there was plenty of space between them. She knew by now that the Persian didn’t like feeling crowded by them. “We picked up more of your favorite food from the parsonage, but an incident had occurred in the parking lot.”
Mrs. Snuggle’s ears flickered.
“Father Mike’s okay,” Lauren assured her. “He’s still in Miami at his church conference, and he’s coming back in two days. This incident happened to someone else. The police are going to handle it all. I just thought I should mention it to you, in case you hear us talking about it and wonder what’s going on.” She thought Zoe would be satisfied with her lack of detail.
Due to Mrs. Snuggle’s non-response, Lauren felt a little silly. But she didn’t want the cat to worry, and she definitely didn’t want her to think something had happened to Father Mike.
Returning to the kitchen, she sat back down at the table. Her eyes widened when she saw half the cupcakes had vanished.
“Lemon meringue therapy,” Zoe mumbled, a speck of fluffy white meringue on her lip.
The image reminded her of Molly the other day, enjoying the same treat, and Lauren smiled.
After fortifying herself with a cupcake, she felt a little better. When her phone rang, she was quick to answer it in case it was Mitch. It was.
He gave her a brief update, and told her he was going to be working late that night but would stop by the café the next day. She ended the call, a little dazed.
“What?” Zoe prompted.
“It seems that Gavin’s car was used to run him over.”