Read Online Final Catcall: A Magical Cats Mystery by Sofie Kelly - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sofie Kelly
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dislike him after all.”
Hugh left for an early supper about half an hour later. I made sure that he knew what time we closed and I crossed my fingers that the wi-fi would be working at the theater in the morning.
Andrew came in about six thirty, just as I was going to warm up some chicken soup in the staff room. There was a day’s worth of stubble on his face, but he was one of those men who look good with a bit of scruff. “Hey, Kathleen,” he said, “you think I could borrow your truck for half an hour? I have to move a piece of staging. Oren’s gone somewhere with his truck and I have no idea where Abigail is. She’s not answering her cell.”
“Sure,” I said. “Where are you taking it?”
“The marina.” He looked around. “It’s that way, right?” he asked, pointing upriver.
“No. That way,” I said, indicating a hundred and eighty degrees in the opposite direction.
He sighed loudly. “Explain to me the difference between Main Street and Old Main Street. I can’t keep the two of them straight. I take it Old Main Street is the original street and Main Street is some kind of extension.”
I shook my head. “Nope. Main Street is the original.”
He frowned. “That makes no sense.”
“It does when you know the history of the names. Old Main Street used to be Olde Street, with an E at the end. It was the main route from the lumber camps to where the marina is now. Over time it turned into Old Main Street.”
“Okay, so how do I get there?”
“Just turn left and go straight until you see the sign for the marina.” I pulled my keys out of my pocket. “No, wait a minute,” I said. “You can’t do that. There was a water main break right in front of the hotel. The street’s dug up. You’ll have to go around.”
He groaned. “Kathleen, please don’t make me drive around town in circles.”
I held up a hand. “Hang on. Let me see if Mary can stay a little longer and I’ll just come with you.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I can’t believe how easy it is to get turned around in such a small place.”
Mary was happy to stay later. I grabbed my sweater and purse and Andrew and I went out to the truck.
“I’ll drive,” he said, holding out his hand for the keys. “You can direct me.”
“Or, since I know where we’re going, I can just drive.” I made a shooing motion and reached around him to unlock the driver’s-side door.
We drove back to the Stratton and I helped Andrew get the extra section of staging into the back of the truck. Luckily it wasn’t that heavy. We drove across town to the marina, managing to avoid most of the detoured traffic.
“Where are you putting this thing?” I asked as I turned into the marina driveway.
“Right down there at the far end of the parking lot.” Andrew pointed to a grassy space just beyond the pavement. “Just by those stairs. You can’t see them, but the other pieces are already there.”
I backed the truck up to the edge of the grass so we didn’t have far to carry the load. The view over the river was beautiful as the sun sank in the evening sky. Three sailboats bobbed in the water, their masts bathed in amber light.
I knew that Burtis Chapman and two of his sons would be at the marina the next morning with the crane to lift the boats out of the water. Abigail had persuaded Burtis to do the job a week early so it wouldn’t interfere with any of the festival performances.
Andrew came to stand beside me. “It is a pretty spot. I’ll give you that,” he said.
“What? No speech about the sunsets over Boston Harbor?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nope. But they are pretty spectacular.”
I poked him in the ribs with my elbow, but he just laughed.
“Where do they go?” he asked, pointing at the stairs.
“They’ll take you up to the first lookout.”
“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s climb up and watch the sunset.”
I shook my head. “I have to get back to the library.”
“Don’t be a stick in the mud,
Hugh left for an early supper about half an hour later. I made sure that he knew what time we closed and I crossed my fingers that the wi-fi would be working at the theater in the morning.
Andrew came in about six thirty, just as I was going to warm up some chicken soup in the staff room. There was a day’s worth of stubble on his face, but he was one of those men who look good with a bit of scruff. “Hey, Kathleen,” he said, “you think I could borrow your truck for half an hour? I have to move a piece of staging. Oren’s gone somewhere with his truck and I have no idea where Abigail is. She’s not answering her cell.”
“Sure,” I said. “Where are you taking it?”
“The marina.” He looked around. “It’s that way, right?” he asked, pointing upriver.
“No. That way,” I said, indicating a hundred and eighty degrees in the opposite direction.
He sighed loudly. “Explain to me the difference between Main Street and Old Main Street. I can’t keep the two of them straight. I take it Old Main Street is the original street and Main Street is some kind of extension.”
I shook my head. “Nope. Main Street is the original.”
He frowned. “That makes no sense.”
“It does when you know the history of the names. Old Main Street used to be Olde Street, with an E at the end. It was the main route from the lumber camps to where the marina is now. Over time it turned into Old Main Street.”
“Okay, so how do I get there?”
“Just turn left and go straight until you see the sign for the marina.” I pulled my keys out of my pocket. “No, wait a minute,” I said. “You can’t do that. There was a water main break right in front of the hotel. The street’s dug up. You’ll have to go around.”
He groaned. “Kathleen, please don’t make me drive around town in circles.”
I held up a hand. “Hang on. Let me see if Mary can stay a little longer and I’ll just come with you.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I can’t believe how easy it is to get turned around in such a small place.”
Mary was happy to stay later. I grabbed my sweater and purse and Andrew and I went out to the truck.
“I’ll drive,” he said, holding out his hand for the keys. “You can direct me.”
“Or, since I know where we’re going, I can just drive.” I made a shooing motion and reached around him to unlock the driver’s-side door.
We drove back to the Stratton and I helped Andrew get the extra section of staging into the back of the truck. Luckily it wasn’t that heavy. We drove across town to the marina, managing to avoid most of the detoured traffic.
“Where are you putting this thing?” I asked as I turned into the marina driveway.
“Right down there at the far end of the parking lot.” Andrew pointed to a grassy space just beyond the pavement. “Just by those stairs. You can’t see them, but the other pieces are already there.”
I backed the truck up to the edge of the grass so we didn’t have far to carry the load. The view over the river was beautiful as the sun sank in the evening sky. Three sailboats bobbed in the water, their masts bathed in amber light.
I knew that Burtis Chapman and two of his sons would be at the marina the next morning with the crane to lift the boats out of the water. Abigail had persuaded Burtis to do the job a week early so it wouldn’t interfere with any of the festival performances.
Andrew came to stand beside me. “It is a pretty spot. I’ll give you that,” he said.
“What? No speech about the sunsets over Boston Harbor?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nope. But they are pretty spectacular.”
I poked him in the ribs with my elbow, but he just laughed.
“Where do they go?” he asked, pointing at the stairs.
“They’ll take you up to the first lookout.”
“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s climb up and watch the sunset.”
I shook my head. “I have to get back to the library.”
“Don’t be a stick in the mud,
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