Gone, Kitty, Gone Page 2

  “I had thought of asking one of the FOCA kids,” I told Perry. Becky and Chris, two members of the group I knew pretty well, were recent college grads. I tended to think of them as “kids,” even though I had only about seven years on them.

  “There you go. I’m sure they’d be glad to help, since the demo was their idea. They’ve got experience with animals and they’re already volunteers.” With another dazzling grin, Perry added, “That’s what I admire about you, Cassie—you’re a problem-solver!”

  I thanked him, while reflecting that the trait tended to get me into situations dangerously out of my depth.

  While we walked back into my shop, Perry said, “So, if you’re ready to commit, I just need you to sign a paper for me.”

  My shields went up. “Well, maybe I should wait until I ask—”

  He pulled a document, folded three ways, from his jacket pocket. “Don’t worry, this doesn’t lock you into anything. It’s just a volunteer waiver. The Bradburne’s lawyer is insisting that I get one from everybody who’s going to take part, and I figure there’s no time like the present.”

  We joined Sarah at the sales counter, where I was able to flatten out the document and scan it. She glanced sideways at me, as if wondering what I was committing to, but the waiver looked simple and straightforward. In fact, I’d signed something similar in the past when I’d helped the county Humane Society raid a backwoods cattery. That had been a challenging experience, but I strongly doubted that I would run into as many hazards while grooming strays in the comfort of my own van. True, some of the rescued cats might scratch or bite, but that was always an occupational hazard. It wouldn’t provoke me to sue the convention center, FOCA, or Perry himself.

  I signed the document and handed it back to him. Without even checking to see whether I’d written Jaki Natal instead of my own name, Perry folded it again, slipped it into his jacket pocket, and thanked me.

  “Before I go, one last thing,” he said. “Are there any other animal professionals in town who you think might be interested in participating? PetMart, from out on the highway, is already taking a couple of vendor tables. But I think our visitors will be most interested in local experts, like you, giving talks or demonstrations.”

  Again I caught a look from Sarah, plus a hint of a smile. We’d worked together so closely for the past year that by now she practically could read my mind.

  “There’s the Chadwick Veterinary Clinic,” I said. “It’s on Hamburg Road, just a few blocks from here. They’re always pretty busy, so I can’t promise they’d be able to make time, but . . .”

  “Sounds great. Anyone in particular I should talk to?”

  “Dr. Mark Coccia.”

  Something tipped him off, maybe the fact that Sarah’s smile grew a little wider. With a twinkle in his eye, Perry asked me, “Can I drop your name?”

  “It might help.”

  He tapped the information into his cell phone, then gave me a parting wink. “Thanks, Cassie. You’ve been great to give me so much of your time. When more of the details get worked out, I’ll be back in touch, okay?”

  “Great,” I said.

  Once Perry had split, taking his distinctive blend of charm and efficiency with him, Sarah could quiz me more directly. “I just knew you were going to sic him on Mark. Think he’ll be jealous?”

  The idea appealed to me a little, but I dismissed it. “Oh, please. For someone of Italian descent, Mark is very level-headed about such things. More often, I’m the one steaming over the women who flirt with him.”

  “But this guy looks like a movie star, and he sure seemed to be laying the sugar on you.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Yeah, but nobody gets a tan like that naturally in the northeast in April. And those teeth are just too white.”

  My assistant laughed. “Girl, you’re funny. Glad to know, though, that you won’t be throwing Mark over for Mr. Slick.” She picked up and scanned the business card Perry had left behind. “New in Town, huh?”

  “See, he’s an event promoter. I’m sure he gives that feelgood routine to everyone he deals with, all day long.” I feigned a bruised ego. “You’ll notice that he got what he wanted—my signature on that waiver—and then he split.”

  “Just like a man, right?”

  “You said it, lady, I didn’t.”

  Sarah left for the playroom again. When I’d decided to rehab the van, she’d joked that taking my business mobile might get me into even more trouble.

  Just a kind of motherly concern on her part, of course. No reason for that to be the case . . . was there?

  Chapter 2

  The jackhammering resumed around one-thirty and continued off and on all afternoon. Not only did it rattle the few clients who came in off the street, but it seemed to keep our half-dozen boarders on edge all day. A couple meowed for relief whenever Sarah or I passed their cages, and others huddled with paws tucked in, eyes shut and ears cocked backward in silent misery. I knew their ears were more sensitive than ours and could only imagine how the irregular rat-tat-tats must be unnerving them. I tried to soundproof their condos as much as possible with whatever spare bath towels and fleece throws I could find.

  Sarah and I tried listening to my boom box radio to counteract the noise outside, with limited success. Her taste ran more to R&B and oldies, while I liked newer rock and pop. Trouble was, the afternoon programming on the local rock station included commentary and occasional celebrity interviews by Marty Blatt. Our homegrown shock jock seemed determined to outdo Howard Stern back in his younger and more offensive days.

  The two of us did smile over a couple of his wisecracks, against our wills. But with Sarah being black and both of us being female, it didn’t take us long to lose patience with his mockery of women, various ethnic and minority groups, “bleeding-heart liberals,” “deadbeats on welfare,” and so forth.

  “Okay, enough.” I reached for the keypad on my radio. “Jazz station?”

  “Please!” Sarah said.

  The quieter music didn’t drown out the jackhammers as effectively. But at least with this compromise, Sarah and I could groom our animals and even scoop out litter pans in relative peace.

  She left at five, grateful, I’m sure, to head for her home, which was two towns away and well out of the work zone.

  I could at least escape to my apartment above the shop. There, my own three cats greeted me with complaints about the din, though they calmed down once they got their supper. A quick chicken stir-fry dinner and a glass of wine also helped to calm my nerves, and by seven o’clock the intrepid road crew finally quit for the day. Unfortunately, I knew they’d be waking me up the following morning, exactly twelve hours later.

  The official memo that I’d gotten about the project noted that it could take weeks just to complete the work on our block. I consoled myself by figuring that this early phase, breaking up the sidewalk and pavement, should be the most annoying part.

  After dinner I called my mother, who lived about forty-five minutes away in slightly more urban Morristown. She sounded thrilled to hear that I’d be taking part in the expo, since she planned to go in support of her new boyfriend, Harry. “Ooo, what fun, Cassie! We’ll be all together, then. Just like a . . .”

  When she caught herself, wisely, I took the opportunity to jump in. “Please, Mom, don’t put it that way. Okay?”

  I figured she’d been about to say like a family, and as yet I couldn’t handle that image. For one thing, my father had only been dead three years; I still missed him terribly, and I knew my mom did, too. For another, if she was going to replace him, I thought she could have found a better candidate than Harry Bock. The rather fussy architect had made a bad first impression on me six months ago. After he’d boarded his Sphynx cat at my shop for a week, she’d come down with a rash; Harry had accused me of somehow causing this condition and threatened to sue me over it.

  Once the cat’s skin had cleared up and I’d been proven blameless, at least Harry had apologized. H
is having met and hit it off with my mother in the meantime also changed his feelings toward me, I’m sure. But while I didn’t exactly hold a grudge, I also didn’t trust him not to go off half-cocked one day on some other issue.

  Mom, on the other hand, thought Harry and I should be great friends because we both liked cats.

  “I only meant that it will be a shared experience, dear,” she said. “Of course, Harry will be busy showing Looli, and you may be somewhere else doing your demos, but I’m sure we can check in with each other from time to time.”

  “We should be able to,” I agreed. “I have no idea how big this new convention center is or where they’ll want me to park my van. I’ve only seen the place from outside.”

  “Well, the event’s still a couple weeks away. You ought to pop over there and take a look around.” She paused, cogitating. “I know—why don’t the three of us have lunch some day at the hotel? We can catch up, and both you and Harry can have a look at the spaces where everything’s going to take place.”

  Even though I didn’t find Bock to be the most stimulating company, I had to admit this wasn’t a bad idea. The guy had designed a few municipal buildings and libraries in our part of the state, so he might have some helpful insights on how the convention center functioned.

  “Harry’s been to the restaurant at the Bradburne, and he says their lunch buffet is wonderful,” Mom prodded me further. “Our treat, of course.”

  She’d said the magic words, and I laughed. “Okay, you’ve sold me. How about next Thursday? That’ll be the day before the expo opens. We don’t have any customer appointments, so Sarah can handle the shop alone for a couple of hours.”

  While we were talking, I got a call from Mark. As soon as I got off with Mom, I called him back, hoping he wasn’t mad that I’d sent Perry Newton to see him at the clinic.

  He did razz me about it and sounded doubtful about participating in the expo. “It’s okay for you, Cassie, to do grooming demonstrations. But I’d feel weird, as a vet, taking a booth to promote our business. Wouldn’t that be kind of crass? And our clinic already has more patients than we can handle.”

  I considered his point. “Don’t think of it as a business promotion, Mark, think of it as a community service. You can give talks on cat-related health issues. I’m sure there’s a lot of information you can share with people that’s routine to you, but that the average pet owner wouldn’t know.”

  “Hmm. I guess that’s true. . . .”

  I could imagine Mark as an excellent spokesman for the clinic. Not only was he smart and articulate, he was no slouch in the looks department, either, his dark hair and light olive skin contrasting nicely with electric-blue eyes. His active job kept him pretty trim, and he went for morning jogs when he had time. In short, he had almost as much going for him as Perry, without the showbiz overkill. “And you close the clinic early on Saturday, so you could do it that afternoon without missing any work.”

  “Or even if I want to do it in the morning, too, Maggie can probably cover for me.” Mark referred to his older, even more experienced partner at the clinic, Dr. Margaret Reed. “But would people be interested in just a dry lecture? Especially at something as glammed-up as this expo?”

  “Maybe you could do a demonstration of some kind, too, with live cats.”

  He laughed. “Oh, nothing could possibly go wrong with that idea. Too bad I don’t have any cats of my own. Want to lend me one of yours?”

  Lounging on my slipcovered living room sofa, in the apartment above my shop, I glanced around. Sleek, black Cole sat on the deep windowsill that faced the street, amidst potted plants, and gazed out at the twilight. Very strong-willed, he would definitely freak if put on display before a crowd of strangers. Tango, the orange tabby who dozed in my lap, also could be unpredictable. Normally pretty sweet, he hated being groomed so much that he’d scared the heck out of Sarah during her tryout for the assistant’s job. Both cats were rescues of one kind or another, so who knew what kind of bad experiences they’d had before I’d gotten them?

  My calico, Matisse, perched serenely now on the arm of the sofa, only became more quiet and passive when she was frightened. She probably would be the best candidate.

  “Maybe, if you’re serious,” I said. “But only in a safety harness.”

  He sounded as if he was coming around. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to risk losing one of them in the crowd. I wonder what the setup will be at the convention center. I’ve never even been inside that Bradburne complex.”

  “Neither have I, but I understand it’s massive.”

  “That’s what Maggie said. She and her husband attended a wedding there and got a chance to roam around. She said the hotel and the convention center are linked, but they’re separate wings. I gather the cat show is going to be spread through several of the hotel conference rooms, and the expo will be in the convention wing.”

  I’ll probably be somewhere out in the parking lot, I thought, feeling a bit deflated.

  “This guy Perry said they’re expecting thousands,” Mark went on. “They’re even trying to get Jaki Natal for a guest appearance.”

  “Incredible, right?” So much for Perry’s warning that I should keep that news under my hat. He probably was telling everybody that he was trying to recruit her for the expo, so we’d all want to bask in the star’s reflected glow. “Should be a lot of excitement, for our neck of the woods.”

  “Sounds that way.” Mark’s tone sobered. “He said she’s concerned about the safety of the venue, which I can kind of understand.”

  So could I, sort of. Chadwick and its surroundings didn’t often host such an extravaganza, and although I’d lived in town just over a year, I couldn’t remember any past appearance by a major celebrity. “Well, if the convention center is so huge and complex, they must have their own security staff for events like this.”

  “But I wonder if they’ve ever had an event like this. The place is pretty new, and this isn’t your usual business conference or trade convention. Think about it, Cassie. In the one space, you’ll have people bringing valuable animals to the cat show. In the other, you’ll have vendors hawking their wares and people like us giving talks and demonstrations.”

  “And don’t forget the celebrity cats!” I joked, telling him about the live appearances by pets who had scores of followers online.

  “Okay, all that is crazy enough. But if you add a mob of Jaki Natal fans, who may not even care about the cat stuff, but only want to see her . . . I’m not surprised that she wants extra precautions in place. Crowds do riot sometimes when they can’t get tickets to a show. Crazy fans even jump onstage and try to grab singers while they’re performing.”

  “But those things happen at big concert venues,” I pointed out, “and there are always plenty of security guards to control the crowd.”

  “Exactly my point. The Bradburne isn’t set up like an arena or a stadium, so it’s going to be hard to police it like one. And if she’s staying at the hotel, they’ll also have to keep fans away from her room, probably her whole floor.” I heard a pause as he mulled this issue for a second. “I guess if the job gets to be too much for the hotel’s usual security staff, they could always ask for backup from the Chadwick cops.”

  I sniffed. “That will thrill our police chief.” I knew Chief Doug Hardy didn’t have enough manpower, either, for such serious crowd control.

  Mark caught himself. “Guess I shouldn’t be such a wet blanket. I’m sure they’ll have it figured out by the time the expo opens, at least enough to satisfy Ms. Natal. If they don’t, I imagine she just won’t come.”

  A few minutes later, after we’d hung up, I remembered Perry’s excitement when he’d told me about the proposed guest star. If Jaki backed out of the expo now, it would not only dash his hopes but possibly undermine his big publicity campaign.

  He would have promised her anything, I suspected, to get her to appear. I just hoped he hadn’t promised more than he could deliver.

 
Chapter 3

  At work the next morning, I retreated to the grooming studio of my shop to call Becky at Friends of Chadwick Animals and ask if she’d be willing to serve as my assistant for the expo.

  “I’d love to,” she said. “I have to admit, though I’ve had a lot of basic experience in handling cats, I don’t know too much about grooming them. I might need some extra training on that score.”

  Since I take Saturday afternoons off, she and I made plans to meet at the shelter that day. I would bring the van over at one, and Becky could practice working on some of the adoptable cats.

  At least the road work stopped over the weekend, and so far, the driveway leading to my rear parking lot remained accessible. The façade of my cream-and-gray, two-story building, with the name of my business stenciled in purple across the front window, remained somewhat blockaded by orange cones and net fencing around the trench where the sidewalk used to be. I resigned myself to the idea that not many new customers would be dropping by anyhow until the water line project was completed.

  Still, on Saturday I was able to nose the van out past these obstacles and drive it the half mile to FOCA’s facility at the north end of Center Street, Chadwick’s main drag. The nonprofit, no-kill facility had taken over a low, rambling, yellow stucco building that formerly housed a luncheonette. It could accommodate up to a dozen dogs and two dozen cats at a time, in separate wings, and usually had more animals placed in foster homes around the area. All generally were strays—former pets who’d gotten lost or been surrendered by their owners—as opposed to ferals, which are born wild and are hard to domesticate.

  I checked in briefly with Terry Elkins, the fiftyish woman who ran the shelter. I’d heard that she came from a business background and had spent a decade volunteering with animal groups before starting FOCA. Her thick, shagged hair needed a trim and her work outfit consisted of a button-front shirt worn loose over stretch pants, with practical running shoes. She greeted me with a big smile, and we talked a little about FOCA’s involvement with the expo. Soon she had to get back to her incessantly ringing phone, but not before she pointed me in the direction of Becky.