Later that afternoon…
“Ready to go?” I asked, checking that Waffle’s lead was firmly secured to his spangly collar. Waffle loved going for walks. It was one of his many quirks, apart from the bunny mysteries and deductive reasoning.
Waffle wiggled his nose at me, hopped over and nibbled on the side of my flip flop.
“Careful,” I said. “That’s not good for bunnies.” I led him toward the picket gate.
My plan was to head over to the intersection between Fifth and Bundine Boulevard and hopefully catch up with this Roxanne Maas woman. I wasn’t familiar with her. It was a small town, but I was still getting accustomed to names and faces, my attempts unaided by the lack of business in the Starlight Cafe.
On the way, I put a call in to the local foster lady and told her about Fluffles the cat. I’d been by another time to check on the cat and give her some attention, but just a half an hour ago, a police car had arrived at Angela’s home. Likely, they had a warrant to search the place.
“I’ve already heard from Deputy Barker about poor Fluffles,” Miss May said, her tone sweet. “They’ve asked me to come collect her this evening. Apparently, poor Angela didn’t have any living relatives to care for her, and goodness knows, that boyfriend isn’t interested in helping the poor cat.”
“He’s not?” I asked, pausing so that Waffle could rest in the shade of a tree on the sidewalk. I unscrewed the cap of a water bottle, got out his water bowl from my purse and delivered some aqua into it for him.
“Who, Peter?” Miss May asked. “No, he’s a terrible human being.”
I raised an eyebrow. I hadn’t known Miss May longer than a few months, but she’d never said a bad word about anyone in that time. To hear her call Peter a terrible human being had to mean he’d done something to leave a lasting impression.
“Why do you say that, Miss May?”
“Doesn’t care for animals,” she said. “And Angela told me that he liked to chase Fluffles around the house and tease the poor cat. She called because she was thinking of giving Fluffles up for adoption again. Can you believe that? Giving up an animal for the sake of a relationship. I’ll tell you, her and Peter were made of the same sour material. Grapes or rot or whatever else you want to call it. Terrible people. Just terrible.”
“Are you all right, Miss May?” I watched Waffle drink water at his leisure. He was a decadent bunny. Enjoyed the high life. Perhaps too spoiled. But how could I say no to a fluffy face like that?
“Perfectly fine, dear,” she said. “Now, I must run. I have to get everything prepared for when I pick up Fluffles later.”
“Bye!” I hung up and slipped my phone into my purse. “That’s interesting,” I said to Waffle. “So, if Peter hated Fluffles so much, why was he at Angela’s house trying to get in the other day. Was that just an excuse?”
My gut said yes. Mr. Hannigan was up to something. A thought to be stored for later dissection.
“Had enough?” I asked Waffle.
I packed away his drinking bowl and off we went. There were plenty of shady spots to stop, and Waffle stayed on the grass.
A five minute walk later brought us to an intersection in the suburbs. The same one where Roxanne Maas supposedly peddled her jewelry.
Except she wasn’t here.
“What a bust,” I muttered, looking around at the houses. They were small, but bigger than mine. This was the area of Star Lake populated by cheaper homes. “We’ll find her one way or another. Gran probably knows something. Or Sue.”
I turned to head back down the sidewalk, but Waffle didn’t budge. “Have you had enough walking? All right. Come here.” I lifted Waffle into my arms, stroked his fluffy head, and walked him back the way we’d come.
The prospect of an empty evening ahead didn’t sit well with me. I’d be out of my mind worrying about the case, pacing. A quick text sent to my grandmother remedied that. She demanded I come over for supper.
A good thing too because the mediocre TV dinners in my freezer cost money, and I was barely making enough money to keep the lights on.
I circled the block, enjoying the stroll, then headed back toward the house.
A man stepped onto the sidewalk in front of me, heading in my direction, and my heart did a little flip.
It was the tall, tan handsome guy from the other day. The one I’d nearly knocked over.
“Hi,” he said, as we drew closer. “That’s a cute bunny.”
“Thanks,” I replied, offering him a small smile. “His name is Waffle.”
“Waffle. As cute as his owner.”
He’s flirting with me. Is he flirting with me? That silly smile remained on my lips, but no words came from between them. What was the appropriate response to what he’d said? ‘Thank you, I’ve put special attention into grooming my fur lately?’
“Name’s Luca,” he said, and stuck out his hand. “And you are?”
I was keenly aware of how moist my palms had grown from holding Waffle. “Sorry,” I croaked. “I can’t shake. Might drop him. Haha. I’d better go.” Why are you so awkward?
I’d never been great with men. It was so much easier to focus on a career than it was to navigate the perils of an adult relationship. My best example of a healthy relationship had been between my mother and father. Before she’d abandoned us both.
I made off down the sidewalk, not daring to glance back.
“I didn’t catch your name,” Luca called.
“Oh, uh, it’s Trinity.” For all I knew, he could be the murderer. Better to give a fake name. Yeah, that was definitely the best option.
“I’ll see you around, Trinity.”
I didn’t answer, but hurried around the corner and back to the house, my pulse thrumming like a beaten drum.