The Counterfeiter-Catching Cat: A Beatrice Young Cozy Cat Mystery (Beatrice Young Cozy Cat Mysteries Book 1) (10 page)

She looked down at Hamish and Lucky. “I need some help here,” she said to them. “Anything you can search out?”

They immediately took off in different directions and began sniffing the ground like dogs following a scent. Beatrice watched them go. It almost seemed like they were working together as a team.
This
was a new development. She hoped the peace between them would last.

Many long minutes stretched by, then half an hour, as the two cats searched for clues. Beatrice looked about best she could but she eventually gave up and sat on a flat stone by the shore, skipping stones across the lake. There was a chilly wind but the sun was still warm.

She was about to pack up and admit defeat when she heard an insistent meowing. Hamish trotted towards her, head held high. Lucky darted out of the woods and joined him. Beatrice immediately got to her feet. The big Maine Coon cat doubled back and headed towards the woods once more.

At first, Beatrice wasn’t sure what Hamish was up to. They were far from where Jordan had been found. Yet, after a couple of minutes, they came upon a fallen log. Hamish began insistently scratching at the dirt inside it. He had already uncovered something that looked blue.

Beatrice patted his silky head, pulled on the spare pair of gloves from her purse, and began pulling out the dirt too. She quickly uncovered a filthy T-shirt, splattered with what looked like a bloodstain. It had clearly been hidden there. Nor did it look to be Jordan’s size. He was a slighter guy and this shirt was an XXL.

Just the size a big man like Cameron might wear.

18

It was Sunday morning when Beatrice got the call. Sunday and Monday were her days off from the café. She had just settled in on the couch with the paper and a piping hot cup of Earl Gray tea, the cats curled up on either side of her, when her cell began to buzz on the side table next to her. She snatched it and answered eagerly.

“Bee, lab report came in,” the sheriff said. “It’s as we suspected. It’s Cameron’s shirt. Jordan’s blood. It places Cameron at the scene of the crime.”

Beatrice exhaled with relief. “You’ve still got him in custody?”

“Yep, we’ve had him ever since you brought in the shirt. His lawyer’s here now. We’re going to be transporting him to the city and arranging for a court date.”

“And Amy?”

“She’ll be tried at a local court for counterfeiting. We don’t have any evidence that she was a collaborator in the murder.”

“Has Cameron said anything at all?”

The sheriff sighed. “He refuses to confess. But we managed to coax it out of the barman that Cameron definitely wasn’t at his bar that night. And one of his neighbors reported him returning late to his house. Crime scene investigators found his tire tracks in a different parking lot leading to the lake. Far as I can tell, Cameron must have been in wait for Jordan near the bar. I can’t tell yet whether he intended to kill him. Whatever happened, things must have escalated, Cameron abducted Jordan, took him to the lake, and tried to make his death look like a suicide.”

Beatrice nodded. “It’s a sad business but I’m glad you’ve got a good case against Cameron.”

“We do, thanks to you.”

She snorted. “It sounds like you’re thanking me. That can’t be right.”

The sheriff cleared his throat. “I’m not
not
thanking you. Let’s put it that way.”

“I’ll take that, faint praise as it is. Have a good day, Jacob. Call me if you need anything.”

After she hung up, Beatrice texted Matthew what she had just learned. She had made him buy a smartphone so that they could send proper messages. Matthew was much less technology-inclined than her. He preferred paper books to eBooks, phone calls to Skyping, and movie theatres to Netflix.

Beatrice waited impatiently as Matthew typed a response. He was all thumbs and even a simple text took him forever to write out.

Finally, the response came through:
Congrats Nancy Drew! Can I take you out to lunch later so we can celebrate?

That’s Miss Marple to you
, she texted back quickly.
And I’d love to have lunch. Pick me up at noon?

It had been so long since Beatrice had had a proper day off. Usually she was making financial reports for the café, emailing suppliers, working on new promotions, or updating the website on both Sunday
and
Monday.

Matthew was the one who always made sure she had a proper break. Since he worked Mondays, Sunday was usually the day when he would drop by and forcibly remove Beatrice from her laptop.

To mark the occasion, Beatrice put on her red plaid shirtdress (she was usually much more comfortable in jeans) and tall flat brown boots with comfy insoles. She brushed out her long gray hair and added a touch of make-up. The effect in the mirror was nice but it still made Beatrice glad that she wasn’t dating. She had never liked the feeling that she was supposed to be selling herself, which in her mind meant wearing pink and smiling as little as possible so her wrinkles wouldn’t show (as much).

The cats both sat in her bedroom watching this makeover process with fascination.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” she asked them. All she got in return was their usual innocent gaze.

Matthew pulled into her driveway right at noon. He was always punctual, a quality she admired, especially since she was the type to always be ten minutes late. She and the cats trotted out onto the gravel driveway and got into his truck.

Matthew whistled long and low when she got into the passenger seat. “Are you wearing a
dress
? Are my eyes deceiving me?”

She scowled at him. “No, you don’t have cataracts yet, you old fool. I thought I’d make myself look decent for a change. Don’t go thinking it’s for
your
benefit.”

He shook his head. “No ma’am. So how do you feel about lunch at the Pine Lodge?”

“Couldn’t sound better,” she said as they set off. Beatrice noticed that he looked dressed up too—he’d swapped his ranger’s uniform for navy pants, a white collared shirt, and a navy fisherman’s sweater.

They drove out of town towards the park, but before they reached the gates they took a driveway that wound upwards through the forest. The dirt road was full of rusty pine needles. Tall blue spruces with their densely-packed needles crowded the side of the road and plunged the car into shade. Beatrice wound down the window a crack so she could take a deep whiff of the gummy, piney scent she loved so much.

The car mounted the hill and finally stopped in a gravel parking lot. Nearby a massive wooden lodge perched on a high ridge that looked over the park beyond. True to its name, hardy white pines encircled the lodge. A groundskeeper was raking up long feathery needles that had fallen to the forest floor.

Matthew knew Beatrice loved the lodge. It was a little expensive but the gorgeous setting and view, plus the scrumptious food featuring local New Hampshire ingredients, made it her favorite place for a treat.

Unfortunately, they didn’t allow cats into the dining room. Beatrice had had various heated arguments with the lodge’s manager. In the end, they had managed to hammer out an arrangement where the cats could sit out on a sheltered part of the deck and be served a specially prepared lunch.

As a waiter took the cats to their usual spot, Beatrice and Matthew were directed to a table for two with breathtaking views of the forest beyond. It was a veritable patchwork quilt of color, though the bright green of the spruces and pines dominated this part of the woods.

Far below a marine-blue ribbon of river ran over a series of rapids and boulders, turning the water white in places where it churned towards its destination. The huge sky that sat upon this breathtaking scene was a light blue gray and covered in low clouds.

Beatrice peeked out to the deck to see the cats happily munching away at their food bowls. Their special cushions were next to them, perfect for post-meal napping. The manager had turned out to be quite the cat fancier.

Satisfied that the cats were well-taken care of, she turned her attention to the menu. She chose the lake trout and Matthew a steak. Matthew ordered her favorite bottle of red wine, much to her delight.

Beatrice settled back in her comfortable wooden chair and surveyed the scene around her. The lofty wooden lodge had a massive stone fireplace at one end, heavy wrought-iron chandeliers, and huge rough wooden beams supporting the roof. The floor was polished wood and the chairs were upholstered in red plaid. Photos of wildlife from the park dotted the walls. It wasn’t New York fancy, but it was
her
kind of fancy.

The wine came and a waiter poured it out. Matthew raised his glass. “To our crime fighting team,” he said, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners

She raised her glass. “Oh we’re a team now, are we? Does that include Hamish and Lucky?”

He touched his glass to hers. “I guess we couldn’t have done it without them.”

Beatrice looked outside to see both cats staring at them as if to say:
of course you couldn’t have done it without us
.

She took a sip of wine and sighed as the rich Californian red slid down her throat. Perfection. “So are you finally warming to cats?” she asked Matthew teasingly. “Can the impossible be true?”

Matthew had always been a dog person. His most recent, Lady, a German Shepherd, had passed away a year ago and he still didn’t have the heart to adopt a new pet.

He smiled. “I’m getting there. They’re clever, I’ll give them that. Now if only they weren’t so standoffish.”

“Hamish and Lucky are as loyal to me as any dog could ever be,” Beatrice said. “And you know that’s the truth.”

Matthew inclined his head slightly, as if conceding the point to her.

The lake trout and steak arrived, still sizzling. Beatrice tucked in with gusto. Just then, she heard a familiar smack of sneakers on the floor.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here,” whispered a voice. Beatrice looked up to see Zoe towering over her. She was wearing her usual Converse shoes, but this time they were paired with a gray dress and tights. Her hair hung in her face, as usual.

“I can’t believe
you’re
here,” Beatrice replied, putting down her fork. “I didn’t think the Lodge was your style.”

“It’s
not
,” Zoe scoffed. She looked furtively through her bangs at a corner of the room. “I’m on a date.”

Matthew and Beatrice immediately began rubbernecking the gentleman in question. Zoe’s eyes flew open wide. “No, no! Don’t
look
at him! Ugh. He just saw you looking.”

Beatrice smiled. “I didn’t know you were dating someone.”

“I’m
not
. This guy has been asking me out at the café and so I was like, okay why not? I dunno. The steak is really good but he is, like,
so
boring. All he talks about is how he’s going to be a ranger some day.”

Matthew stifled a laugh. “That’s Greg, he works in administration at the park. I didn’t think he was your type…”

“He’s
not
.” Zoe sighed. “I just thought I should be dating and he seemed like a nice guy. What have I got myself into? You guys have to save me.”

Beatrice and Matthew exchanged amused glances. The ins and outs of young romantic love seemed alien to Beatrice. Still, Zoe’s exploits amused her. And clearly, Greg was not her type.

“I’ll call you in five minutes,” Beatrice said soothingly, “and pretend like I’m the sheriff and there’s been a break-in at the café. How does that sound?”

Zoe exhaled dramatically. “Perfect. I’ve never been so excited to hear about a crime.”

She returned to her seat and Beatrice returned to attacking her lake trout with the full force of her hunger. She looked up to realize Matthew was smiling at her.

“She sure is something,” he commented.

“She keeps me young. She’s like the daughter I never had. But don’t ever tell her that. She’d freak out.”

“I kind of wish I’d had a daughter,” Matthew mused. ”I love my boys but I always wanted a girl, too. Maybe we would have had one if Marjorie hadn’t passed away so suddenly.” He stopped suddenly, looking lost.

Beatrice reached across the table and put her hand over his. Matthew and Marjorie had had an affectionate marriage, even if they weren’t star-crossed lovers. They had respected each other, which Beatrice figured was what really made a marriage work, not desperate, passionate love. She knew he still missed Marjorie, missed being married. He had dated in the years since her passing but no one seemed good enough for him.

“I can share Zoe with you,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Though she makes for a bit of a complicated daughter.”

Matthew’s lips curved into a smile. “Aren’t you generous. Though I have a feeling that Zoe isn’t one much for parental authority.”

“You’re right there.” Beatrice polished off the last of her lake trout and patted her lips with her napkin. Delicious. Matthew finished his steak and suggested they order the lodge’s famous blueberry cobbler with homemade vanilla ice cream. He didn’t have to ask Beatrice twice.

As they happily spooned their way through the fresh biscuit, juicy blueberries, and ice cream, Matthew looked up at her, his eyes serious.

“Do you know what all the businesses are going to do about the fake bills? It’s going to cause quite the stir once the sheriff announces what Jordan and Amy were really up to.”

Beatrice sighed. “I think the Business Association is going to have to call a meeting. Everyone’s going to have to comb through their cash registers very carefully. It’s definitely going to cause trouble for the businesses. Jordan didn’t think that part through—how he’d hurt people.”

Matthew nodded. “At least we’re in fall colors season. Plenty of tourists coming through.”

“That’s what’ll save us,” Beatrice agreed. “If it was the dead of winter we’d be in a real fix.” She paused as she took another spoonful of ice cream. “It’s such a shame. Three young people with futures ahead of them. Now one is dead and the other two in jail. I don’t get it.”

“What’s to get? It’s the usual stuff: greed for money, love gone wrong. Cameron really seemed to care for Amy but his jealousy got the best of him. He tried to do right by her but everything went sideways. It’s a shame but it’s all over now.”