Twenty-Nine

I shot up the stairs and listened for voices. It was quiet, though, and I didn’t hear a peep. Doors were open to most of the bedrooms. But the door to the last one on the east side of the house was ajar. I peeked inside.

Oma sat in a chair by the bed. Rose was stretched out with her eyes closed. When Oma saw me, she signaled not to make any noise.

I entered the room. Rose didn’t look any worse for her interrogation. But she was clearly wiped out.

I drifted over to the window that looked out toward Mae’s property. A cat sat in the upstairs window. It must have been the small room she had spoken of. The cat stood on his hind legs and scratched against the window as if he wanted to get out.

My eyes narrowed for a better look. That ruddy fur looked an awful lot like Hershey’s. In fact, the more I studied the cat, the more I thought it was Hershey! It was definitely a Somali.

Moving as quietly as I could, I left the room and hurried down the stairs and into the conservatory, where Holmes kept the judge company. Trixie jumped to her feet as though she knew something was up.

“I think Mae Swinesbury has a cat that belongs to one of our guests,” I blurted.

“How can you tell?” asked the judge. “She has so many.”

“It’s a Somali. They’re quite distinctive, with long fur and fluffy tails. I’m going over there.”

The judge and Holmes stayed put, but Trixie and Twinkletoes accompanied me to Mae’s house. I knocked on the front door.

Mae opened the door a crack. “You’re back.”

“I noticed a cat in your upstairs window. It looks just like one that went missing. He belongs to a guest at the inn. I’m sure you must have seen the texts I sent out about Hershey.”

“Mmm. I may have seen a text. But I haven’t seen the cat. Sorry.”

Mae began to close the door. I stuck the toe of my shoe in the crack to stop her. “Are you certain? Maybe I could have a look?”

“Really, Holly. I’m busy right now. I don’t have the cat.”

“Why don’t you step outside and I’ll point him out to you?”

“That’s not necessary. All the cats in my house belong to me.”

At that precise moment, Twinkletoes dashed over my foot and squeezed into Mae’s house.

“Twinkletoes!” I cried.

Trixie didn’t help the situation by barking.

“Now you’ve done it,” Mae grumbled. “Let me shut this door so I can fetch Twinkletoes.”

“I don’t think so. Why are you so eager to close the door?”

“So my cats don’t get out!”

“Then I’ll have to come in.”

“No!” Mae appeared a little taken aback by my response. “It’s a mess. I don’t want anyone seeing it this way.”

“I won’t look.”

“Then you’ll fall over things. No. I’m sorry, I just don’t like people in my house.”

“Twinkletoes!” I called. “Twinkie!”

Half a dozen cats ran to my foot and mewed. None of them were Twinkletoes or Hershey.

“What’s going on here?”

I heard footsteps on the porch behind me.

“Hi, Trixie,” a male voice said.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Dave.

“Now look what you’ve done,” Mae hissed. “The law is here!”

“Twinkletoes is in Mae’s house, and I think she might also have Hershey, the cat who went missing.”

“I see. Hiya, Mae.” Dave smiled at her sweetly.

“Hi, honey. If she would let me close the door, I would get her cat for her.”

Dave gazed down at my foot. “Why don’t you let us in to help you? You know how elusive cats can be. Twinkletoes might not let you catch her.”

“No. She can go home when she wants to. Maybe Twinkletoes would rather be here with me. I didn’t drag her inside. She left Holly and came in of her own free will.”

“Mae,” said Dave kindly, “I’m not going to fight with you over this. We all know Twinkletoes belongs to Holly. Now open the door.”

I felt the door squeeze against my foot. “She’s trying to close it,” I muttered to Dave through gritted teeth.

“Mae Swinesbury, you open that door right now,” Dave ordered in a stern tone.

“Holly!” I recognized Holmes’s voice. “Is everything okay?” He jogged over and up onto Mae’s porch.

I explained the situation to him.

“Mae,” said Dave, “this is utterly ridiculous. Now open the door so Holly can get her cat.”

She backed away and let the three of us in. Trixie managed to squeeze in underfoot without being noticed.

“Could I offer you boys some iced tea?” asked Mae.

I had a feeling they were too stunned to answer. I had never seen so many cats in my life. To Mae’s credit, the house wasn’t a mess at all. But cats of every color lounged happily on cat trees, sofas, and tables.

“Um, Mae? Just how many cats do you have?” asked Dave.

Trixie romped up the stairs, and I followed her quickly in the hope that she could smell her buddy Twinkletoes.

Trixie trotted into the room at the top of the stairs, where I thought I had seen Hershey. Sure enough, Twinkletoes and Hershey sat together on a bed, looking at us.

I picked both of them up. Thankfully, Twinkletoes was amazingly light. Neither of them squirmed when I carried them down the stairs. Holmes reached out for Hershey and took him into his arms.

“No, no, no.” Mae shook her head and waggled her forefinger. “You can have Twinkletoes, but you don’t get to come into my house and help yourself to my cats.”

“Mae, I’m pretty sure this is Hershey.”

“No, he isn’t.”

“What’s his name, then?” I prodded.

She hesitated, just long enough for it to be obvious she had to make up a name and fast. “Harvey.”

“Mae,” said Dave, like he was a disappointed parent speaking to a child.

“He’s wearing a collar,” said Holmes, picking up a tag. “It says Hershey.”

Dave frowned. “Isn’t that white Persian one Rita Jones’s cat?”

“The one that went missing a year ago!” I exclaimed. “And that Siamese, that’s Judy Nelson’s cat.”

“Oy,” said Dave. “You’re a cat seducer, Mae.”

Holmes and I looked at him.

“This is becoming a problem all over the place. People assume they can keep cats that wander into their homes. Meanwhile, the true owners are out of their minds with worry and they have no idea that the cat is living next door or down the block. It’s a big problem in England. We haven’t seen much of it in Wagtail yet, but it can be difficult to detect. Mae has clearly been seducing cats for over a year.”

“I have not. They all came here on their own. It’s not like I stole them from anyone. It was voluntary on their part. They want to live with me.”

“Take those two,” Dave said to Holmes and me. “I’ll call Rita and Judy and do a check of all the cats reported missing over the last couple of years.”

As we walked out the door, I heard Mae saying, “You can’t take my cats away from me.”

Dave replied with a curt, “You took them from their rightful owners. Now you have to give them back. It’s theft, Mae. Plain and simple.”

I drove the golf cart back to the inn while Holmes hung on to Hershey. “Poor guy,” he said. “She shut him in her house, and he couldn’t get away.”

“Do you think she does that because she’s lonely?” I asked.

“Maybe she’s lonely because she has fifteen hundred cats in her house.”

I laughed even though there might have been some truth to that.

When we walked into the inn, the WAG Ladies happened to be gathered in the main lobby. Joanne shrieked at the sight of Hershey and swept him into her arms. I could hear him purring.

She thanked Holmes and me over and over before she whisked him to their room to spend some time with him.

“Have you had lunch?” I asked Holmes.

“Not a bite since breakfast. I’m starved.”

“Follow me.” It was late for lunch, but being part owner of an inn had its perks. I peeked into the commercial kitchen. “Any leftovers for Holmes and me?”

“You caught me just in time. How about burgers with a big basket of home fries?” asked our cook.

“Perfect!” I grabbed tall glasses and filled them with ice cubes and traditional freshly brewed tea.

The terrace was empty, so we selected a table with a large umbrella and settled in. Trixie roamed around, and Twinkletoes curled up in a chair. A few minutes later, the cook’s assistant arrived with a huge tray.

“Coleslaw on the side, trout for Twinkletoes, and where’s Trixie?”

At the sound of her name, she came running. He set a bowl in front of her. “Here you go, sweetheart, a burger and green beans!”

We thanked him and reached for the fries at the same time. They were still warm.

“What’s the problem with the judge?” asked Holmes. “I thought it was just my family that has issues with him.”

“The judge!” I gasped and reached for my phone.

“It’s okay, Oma and my mom are there with them. My dad is still bristling about Rose being involved with the judge. It might take some time for them to get over that hurdle. I guess you can’t erase thirty years of animosity and blame in one day.”

“I’m glad your mom is there. I don’t have the same issues with the judge as your family. But it occurred to me that he could very easily have set up all those weird occurrences himself. What if there isn’t anyone listening to their conversations? It would have been so easy for him to open the window on the sly. To buy a box of oatmeal and leave it on the counter. To order the wrong color of roses intentionally. He could have actually sent those emails to Aunt Birdie, Rose, and Dovie.”

“But why? What would possess him to do that?”

“Maybe he just wanted attention. Rose and Dovie were there a lot. Maybe he wanted excitement. Or to have them fussing over him.”

“Why would he poison them? That’s not so harmless.”

“I don’t know. But one other thing has been bothering me. Dovie allegedly let Fritz out when the gate was open, and he ran off. But he didn’t seem to want to run away when we brought him home. And while Trixie and Twinkletoes jumped up and went to Mae’s house with me, Fritz was content to stay home with the judge.”

“Absolutely true. Not a sign of him wanting to abscond,” said Holmes in between bites.

“Which makes me wonder if he was really missing.”