| |
“Craft club tonight,” Zoe announced the next morning when they finished readying the café.
“Mm,” Lauren agreed, sipping a large latte.
The play date last night had gone on longer than she’d expected, resulting in her feeling tired this morning.
She didn’t think she was the only one. Although Annie had thoroughly enjoyed herself last night, right now she was snoozing in her pink cat basket.
She’d asked her if she wanted to have a day off and stay home, but her fur baby had insisted on coming to work.
“I had so much fun talking to Annie and Mrs. Snuggle about my movie,” Zoe continued. “Wait until I tell Mrs. Finch all about it tonight!”
“I’m sure she’d love to hear about it.” Lauren frowned. “Mrs. Finch hasn’t been in since Tuesday.”
“That’s right.” Zoe looked worried. “With all the customers and our sleuthing, I hadn’t realized. I’ll call her right now.”
“Good idea.”
Zoe phoned their friend, who answered. After a short conversation, she ended the call.
“Mrs. Finch says she’s fine. She had a doctor’s appointment this week which ran later than expected.”
“I hope it wasn’t anything serious.”
“No, she said it was routine. But it tired her out a bit so she decided to stay home yesterday, and she said she’s looking forward to seeing us tonight.”
“Let’s take her a cupcake.” Lauren rose from the stool and placed a blueberry cream in a cardboard box. “There.”
“Awesome.” Zoe beamed. “Hey, do you think we should tell Brooke about last night? Seeing Jeff at the pawnshop?”
“I’m sure he’ll tell her himself,” Lauren replied. “I don’t think we should interfere like that.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Zoe scrunched her nose. “I guess you’re right. So, when are we going to check out the rest of the pawnshops?”
“I have no idea,” Lauren replied truthfully. “Not today or tomorrow.”
“What about Sunday?” Zoe’s eyes lit up.
“Mitch and I are going to church.”
“True.” Zoe sighed. “Ooh – what about Monday?”
“Hopefully by then Detective Castern will have done his job and checked out the rest of the pawnshops on his – or should I say your – list.”
“But if he hasn’t?”
Lauren hesitated. “I suppose.”
“Yay!” Zoe grinned at her. “You’re the best.”
Checking her watch, she realized it was time to open the café. A constant stream of customers kept all three of them busy for most of the morning.
Just before the lunch rush, Mitch strode in.
“Hi.” He leaned across the counter and kissed her.
“Hi,” she managed, smiling at him. She didn’t care who saw them.
“I’m still waiting on the cell tower records to check Christina’s alibi,” he said. “But Castern has visited a couple more pawnshops this morning. No luck.”
“I’m glad he’s working on it.”
“Me too,” he replied wryly.
She made him a latte and boxed up a super vanilla and blueberry cream for him.
“It’s craft club tonight,” she reminded him.
“No problem. Chris isn’t working this evening, so I thought the two of us could grab something to eat.”
“That works perfectly.” She smiled.
“And tomorrow night is chili at his place.”
“I think Annie’s looking forward to it.” She glanced at her fur baby, who led a customer to a table in the back.
Mitch picked up his treats and left, giving her a warm, tender smile. Her heart fluttered as she watched him depart. She was so lucky to have him in her life.
“Hey, Zoe, when are you going to Hollywood?” Martha barreled into the café.
Annie ran to greet her, effortlessly leaping onto the seat of the walker.
“Brrt!”
“Are you going with her, cutie-pie?” Martha winked at the silver-gray tabby.
“What are you talking about?” Zoe hurried over to their friend.
“I heard all about your screenplay at Brooke’s salon.” Martha patted her curly gray hair.
“I’ve just started working on it,” Zoe admitted.
“It’s those princess movies, right?” Martha pointed at her.
“Yes.”
“I love those! I can just see you, tapping away at a big typewriter, clack, clack, clack, gotta fix this page, gotta fix that page—”
“I’m going to write it on Chris’s laptop.”
“Even better.” Martha waved a hand in the air, nearly hitting Zoe. “You don’t have to fix mistakes on those things, do you?”
“Not like the old days,” Lauren agreed, an image of a black manual typewriter flashing before her. She’d seen one in an old movie they’d watched a while ago. The secretary’s typing speed in the film had been impressive.
“I wonder how much they’ll pay you for it.” Martha had a dreamy look on her face. “Tons and tons, I bet. Then you really will be rich and famous!”
“I hope so.” Zoe giggled, then sobered. “But I have to write it first. And some people online say it takes forever to finish a script.”
“But you’re not them.” Martha tsked. “You’re Zoe Crenshaw!”
“True.” Zoe brightened.
“What can we get you today?” Lauren asked.
“I’ll have my marshmallow latte and hmm, let’s see. What goodies do you have?”
Lauren ran through the offerings, including lavender cupcakes, and Ed’s cherry pinwheels.
“Ooh, I’ll have a pinwheel.” Martha pushed her walker according to Annie’s directions, her brrts and brrps guiding them to a small table in the middle of the room.
“I wonder how many people know about my screenplay?” Zoe mused.
“Don’t worry.” Lauren patted her shoulder. “You know I’ll support you all the way.”
“I know.” Zoe smiled. “That’s what Chris said the other night, too.”
“I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll write it.”
“Me neither. I can’t let Annie and Mrs. Snuggle down!”
***
THAT AFTERNOON, BROOKE walked into the café during a lull. She wore dark jeans, a black sweater, and a red cardigan, with gem-like red buttons.
“Hi, guys.” She glanced around the space, but the four of them were the only ones there.
“Brrt?” Annie trotted up to them.
“Hi,” Lauren greeted her.
“I need to apologize.” Brooke looked guilty. “I’m afraid I let it slip the other day about Zoe’s screenplay. I was cutting a customer’s hair, and as soon as I realized, I asked her not to say anything but ... I think the news is out.”
“No worries,” Zoe assured her. “Some of our friends have been mentioning it to me, too. The good news is I’ve started work on the script.”
“That’s wonderful!” Brooke looked relieved.
“Can I get you something?” Lauren gestured to the espresso machine.
“A mocha would be great. Thanks.”
“Do you have time to sit?” Zoe asked.
“For a few minutes.” Brooke smiled.
Annie chose a four-seater near the counter, and Lauren brought the mocha over.
“Jeff told me last night he met you in a pawnshop.” Brooke admired the peacock design on the micro foam before taking a sip.
“We thought we’d try to find your jewels,” Zoe replied.
“Detective Castern hadn’t checked out all the pawnshops in Sacramento,” Lauren added, “but he’s visited some more today.”
“Jeff said he hadn’t had any luck at that store, but he ended up buying an old radio.”
Lauren and Zoe looked at each other.
“Men.” Zoe giggled.
Lauren caught Brooke’s eye, and they laughed too.
Annie peered at each of them from her seat at the table, wondering what was so funny.
“You’ll know one day, Annie, if you have a boyfriend,” Zoe told her.
Lauren stroked her fur baby. “She can’t have kittens.”
“But she could still have a friend who’s a boy,” Zoe mused. “Like Toby.”
The golden Siberian Forest Cat was a show cat Annie had met a while ago. Now, her ears pricked up at the mention of his name.
“Would you like to have a play date with Toby soon?” Lauren asked.
“Brrt!” Yes!
They talked about their plans for the weekend: Brooke and Jeff were getting a new sofa delivered, and then the subject turned to Brooke’s missing jewelry.
“What does your grandmother’s ring look like?” Zoe asked.
“Is it very similar to Christina’s?” Lauren remembered how Brooke had thought that Christina had been wearing the missing ring when she’d visited her at the hair salon after Uncle Francis’s death.
“Yes, it is,” Brooke replied, “but the setting is a little different. Grandmother’s ring had two diamonds on each side of the sapphire and Christina’s had three.”
“And the fake ruby rings we saw last night looked just like that,” Zoe remembered. “A big red stone and three small diamonds either side.”
“The pawnshop clerk assured us the ruby rings were fake,” Lauren said, noticing Brooke’s eyes widen. “How old is your grandmother’s ring?”
“Yeah, is it from the nineteen-fifties? That’s what the clerk said about the design for the fake ruby rings.”
“I don’t really know,” Brooke admitted. “My grandfather gave the ring and necklace to her a long time ago, and then died a few years later. That’s another reason why they were so precious to her – and to me. She never remarried. I know Grandmother was born in nineteen-thirty-three and married Grandfather when she was in her twenties, so—”
“So her ring could have been made in the nineteen-fifties,” Zoe breathed.
“You’re right.” Brooke stared at them.
“I wonder when Christina’s sapphire and diamond ring was made,” Lauren pondered. “From the nineteen-fifties as well, or perhaps a little later?”
“Does that mean Christina’s ring is secondhand?” Zoe asked. “Because there’s no way Christina was married back then. Is there?”
“Of course not.” Brooke chuckled. “Christina is in her fifties now. She’s younger than Uncle Francis. She wouldn’t have been born until sometime in the sixties, I think.”
Brooke glanced at her watch and jumped up. “Sorry, but I’ve got to dash. My client will be wondering where I am.”
They waved goodbye to her. Annie started nosing around the corners of the room, sniffing here and there. She ended up near the counter and tapped her paw on the wooden floorboards.
“Brrt!”
“What is it?” Lauren bent down on the customer side of the counter. When Annie removed her paw, a small, shining red object gleamed up at her.
“Ooh, what have you got?” Zoe crowded behind her.
“It looks like a button.” Lauren straightened, turning the item this way and that in the overhead lights.
Zoe snapped her fingers. “Brooke’s red cardigan. It had buttons like this.”
“Good find, Annie,” Lauren praised.
“Brrt.” Thank you.
“It’s Annie’s lost and found all over again! We should call Brooke and let her know.” Zoe pulled out her phone, but her message went to voicemail.
“What about trying the salon?” Lauren suggested.
Zoe nodded, and dialed a different number. The same result.
“Maybe she’s doing a complicated hair coloring technique,” Lauren mused.
“Or is busy shampooing someone,” Zoe agreed, “or perming their hair.”
“We can try again later.”
“Definitely.”
“Brrt!”