Read Online The Whole Cat and Caboodle: Second Chance Cat Mystery by Sofie Ryan - Free Book Online Page A

and me there were probably a dozen refurbishing projects in various stages of completion and maybe eight or nine more waiting to be worked on.
    “She has a good eye for color.”
    I had been thinking the same thing. “Okay,” I said, rubbing my left shoulder with the other hand. “I trust your judgment.” I squinted at the chest of drawers, trying to picture it in some other—any other—color. Green, maybe.
    Mac frowned at me. “Everything okay?”
    I blew out a breath. “I’m not sure. One of the women didn’t show up for the workshop. Madeline—Maddie—she’s a friend of Gram’s. I’ve known her since I was a little girl.” I stretched my left arm up over my head trying to work out the stiffness. “Charlotte and I went to check on her.”
    “Was she okay?”
    “She was. But her gentleman friend wasn’t. He was . . . uh . . . dead.”
    “Dead?” Mac said. His brown eyes narrowed with concern. “What happened?”
    “I’m not sure.” I headed for the door and he followed. “The police came, and after that I took Maddie and Charlotte over to Charlotte’s house. That’s what took me so long.”
    We swung the wide doors shut and I made sure they were both closed tightly and locked securely. “Do you remember that older man who came in the other day with the silver tea set?” I asked Mac.
    “White hair, mustache, nice suit. I remember,” he said, bending down to snag a plastic grocery bag that was blowing across the pavement. “Wait a minute. It was him?”
    I nodded. “Arthur Fenety. Which reminds me, the police will be by to get that tea set. It’s in my office.”
    Mac shook out the bag and dropped it in the recycling bin by the back door of the shop. “So, how did the workshop go?”
    “Good,” I said. “Except Avery brought Elvis with her.”
    “Why?”
    “She says he’s good advertising for the shop.”
    He smiled. “What was her plan? Put a little signboard on him and have him walk up and down the sidewalk?”
    “Don’t say that out loud,” I said. “It’s just the thing Avery would be apt to try.”
    Elvis was back at the boxes propping open the door, trying diligently to work one paw under a flap of cardboard on the top of the box.
    “Don’t do that,” Mac said.
    Elvis immediately pulled his paw back and sat down on his haunches.
    “I’ll start bringing things in from the truck,” Mac said, heading for the front door.
    “I’ll be right there,” I said. I looked down at Elvis, who had come to sit by my feet. “So, him you listen to?”
    He looked up at me and blinked, all green-eyed innocence.
    Rose was showing a customer the little teacup gardens—tiny, hardy Haworthia or chives, planted in odd china cups with saucers. I inclined my head in her direction. “Go help Rose,” I said. To my surprise Elvis headed purposefully across the floor in her direction. Sometimes I got the feeling that cat was messing with me.
    Mac and I unloaded the truck and put everything back in the storage room. Rose sold four teacup gardens and I helped her wrap them while Elvis entertained the customer. By the time we had finished it was five minutes past store closing time. Rose walked around tidying up the displays while I ran the vacuum over the floor and Mac swept the storage room.
    “If you talk to Jess tonight tell her those boxes of clothes are ready, please,” Mac said, pulling on his denim jacket.
    “I will,” I said.
    Jess was my closest friend in North Harbor—closest friend of my age, anyway. I’d known her casually when we were teenagers, but we’d gotten close after we became roommates in college. She had a great sense of funky style, and with a sewing machine and a pair of scissors she could make over just about any piece of clothing. Everything she restyled ended up in a little used and vintage clothing shop on the waterfront. She’d also started making one-of-a-kind quilts from recycled fabric. I’d had two of them in the shop and they’d sold within a