Thanksgiving in Cherry Hills Read online

  Sylvia glanced up from her phone. “Okay.”

  Kat scooped up the turkey, much to Matty and Tom’s dismay. “Can I get you something to drink while I’m in the kitchen?” she asked Sylvia.

  Sylvia shook her head. “I don’t think my stomach can handle anything after what happened outside.”

  Kat nodded her understanding. She had never been mugged herself, but she could imagine the terror such an experience would elicit. It was enough to make her teeth chatter.

  Or, she considered, her eyes veering toward the open windows, maybe that was the effect of letting all this cold air in.

  She was grateful to note the kitchen no longer smelled of smoke. Unfortunately, the pumpkin mixture had dried while she and Andrew were outside. It would be ten times harder to clean up now.

  Tom careened into the kitchen after her, skidding to a stop next to his food dish. Matty followed more slowly. The tortoiseshell planted herself beside the refrigerator, presumably so she could intervene if Kat happened to lose her grip on the treasure in her hands.

  Kat opened the freezer and stuffed the turkey inside. “This isn’t for you,” she told the felines.

  Tom’s hopeful expression didn’t waver. Matty curled her tail around her paws, peering at Kat with her adorable green eyes. Kat couldn’t blame the animals for their persistence. Those looks they were giving her worked to get them what they wanted more often than not.

  Kat shut the windows before rejoining her guests. She sat down next to Andrew on the couch opposite Sylvia.

  Sylvia was still fiddling with her cell phone. “I should call CHATS and let them know what happened.”

  “Good idea,” Andrew said. “I need to get your contact information too.”

  “Sure.” Sylvia rattled off her address and phone number.

  With his hopes of wheedling Kat into giving him human food dashed, Tom trotted out of the kitchen. He jumped onto the sofa next to Sylvia and peered at her phone as if to ask what she could possibly be looking at that might be more important than giving him some attention. Unlike Matty, who tended to be more reserved around strangers, Tom was willing to accept belly rubs from anyone who wanted to give them out.

  “Why, hello there.” Sylvia let the phone fall to her side as she reached for the feline.

  “That’s Tom,” Kat told her. “He’s an attention hog.”

  Sylvia ran her fingers along the top of Tom’s head, looking animated for the first time since Andrew and Kat had come to her aid. “He’s very striking. His markings are so cute, and I love this white patch on his chest.”

  Kat sat up a little straighter, unable to prevent the burst of pride she felt even though she’d had nothing to do with Tom’s beauty.

  She flushed when she caught Andrew eyeing her, the corners of his lips twitching in amusement.

  Kat turned away from him. “So, Sylvia, what is CHATS going to do for Thanksgiving now that their food has been stolen?”

  Sylvia stiffened at the reminder of the attack. “I imagine they’ll send me back to the store with more petty cash.”

  Kat frowned. “Are you sure you’re up for that? After what happened?”

  “I don’t figure I can avoid the store forever.”

  Kat couldn’t argue there. Still, she hoped the CHATS staff would have some sympathy and send someone else in Sylvia’s stead.

  “Who knew you were going shopping today?” Andrew asked.

  Sylvia looked over at him. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m trying to ascertain whether anybody currently staying at CHATS knew you would be at the Food Mart this morning. It’s possible whoever mugged you followed you from there.”

  “Oh.” Sylvia’s hand went limp on Tom’s back. “I don’t think anybody at CHATS would do that.”

  “You can’t be too sure. Any transitional place is bound to have its share of people who aren’t above breaking the law. Some of the residents could be pretty desperate.”

  Tom nudged Sylvia’s fingers with his nose. She dutifully started petting him again, but her mind didn’t appear to be on the task. Andrew’s suggestion seemed to have jarred her.

  Kat couldn’t help pondering over his theory herself. “Are you saying you think somebody saw her leaving CHATS with the grocery money, waited until she was inside the store, then tampered with her car battery?” she asked Andrew.

  “Anything’s possible. The mugger could also have been casing the Food Mart in search of somebody vulnerable to target. Sylvia, unfortunately, could have been the first person he saw who fit the bill.”

  Sylvia bobbed her head. “That must have been what happened.”

  Kat wondered if Sylvia actually thought the second scenario was more likely or if she simply didn’t want to dwell on the possibility that someone had been following her ever since she’d left CHATS. After all, that would suggest she knew the mugger.

  “Nothing about the person who attacked you seemed familiar?” Kat asked.

  Sylvia shook her head. “He wore a ski mask.”

  “But did his build or the way he walked remind you of anybody at CHATS?”

  “No.”

  Sylvia shifted on the couch, forcing Tom to adjust himself. He didn’t seem to mind the disturbance. He merely settled a little more heavily against Sylvia’s leg.

  “Did he speak to you?” Kat asked.

  “No. Well, except to tell me to give him the groceries. I didn’t recognize his voice.”

  Matty finally trotted out of the kitchen. Familiar with how inquisitive the tortoiseshell could be, Kat presumed she had spent this whole time working on a way to get into the freezer without relying on one of the humans.

  Matty joined Kat on the couch, settling in the corner and sticking one hind leg straight up in the air to lick it. Kat thought she spied a drop of pumpkin pie filling stuck to Matty’s paw pad, but the buzzer connected to the building’s main door sounded before she could take a closer look.

  Sylvia vaulted off of the sofa, leaving a startled Tom in her wake. “That must be my brother.”

  Kat stood up to buzz in her visitor. She opened the front door while she waited, and less than a minute later the elevator dinged. A tall man with Sylvia’s same dark skin tone walked into view. He gave Kat a tentative smile when he reached her unit.

  “Is this where Sylvia is?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Kat smiled back at him. “You must be her brother.”

  He reached out his hand. “Armando.”

  “Kat Harper.” Kat shook his hand, then moved aside so he could enter. “Sylvia’s inside.”

  But before Armando could pass over the threshold, Sylvia appeared.

  “You ready to go?” Armando asked her.

  “Yes.” She faced Kat. “Thank you. You and Detective Milhone have both been very generous.”

  “No problem. We’re glad you weren’t hurt.”

  Armando was already making his way back to the elevator, evidently unwilling to engage in any more small talk. Kat thought his behavior was a bit odd, considering that his sister had just been mugged. Or maybe the sight of her had reassured him that she was okay and now he was itching to get back home.

  Sylvia hurried after him, giving Kat a little wave as she departed.

  Kat lifted her hand in return. She was so preoccupied by Armando’s quick departure that she didn’t remember the turkey still in her freezer until after he and Sylvia had already disappeared.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “She was mugged?” Jessie Polanski said, her mouth gaping open. “On Thanksgiving Eve?”

  Kat sagged against the counter. A knot had been growing in the center of her chest ever since she and Andrew had come to Sylvia’s rescue. “Sad, isn’t it?”

  Jessie tucked a stray lock of brunette hair back into the bun affixed to the back of her head. “This will certainly put a damper on her Thanksgiving.”

  “The food was for the homeless shelter too. Sylvia says they can buy more, but it’s heartbreaking to think somebody might st
eal from those who are so unfortunate.”

  “I was already bummed about today being your last day, and now this.” Jessie sighed as she peered at Kat. “I’m going to miss you working for me.”

  The ache in Kat’s chest grew more pronounced. “I’ll miss working for you too.”

  Jessie started straightening some things around the register. “You’ve gotta be excited though, too, right? I mean, you’re finally going to get to put that programming degree of yours to work.”

  “I am excited.” Kat thought she might be more scared than excited, but she didn’t mention that part. “I have to say, when I first moved back to Cherry Hills, I didn’t think it would take four months to find a job in my field.”

  A whisper of a smile flitted across Jessie’s lips. “I always knew it was a matter of time. You’re too smart to be working here forever.”

  “It was really nice of you to let me waitress in the interim.”

  Jessie flicked her wrist. “You were the one doing me the favor. I needed good help, and you fit the bill.”

  “Well, you certainly don’t look like you need my help today.” Kat surveyed the empty restaurant. “Think anybody will show up?”

  “Oh, yeah. The lunch rush hasn’t started yet, but when it does you’ll be begging to start that office job of yours early.”

  “Really? People aren’t at home cooking with their families?”

  “Are you kidding?” Jessie snorted. “They’re going to be cooking with their families all day tomorrow. The last thing they want to do is prolong the Thanksgiving agony another day.”

  Kat didn’t reply, surprised by Jessie’s take on things. Years of being shuttled from home to home had made her envious of those who had the privilege of spending the holidays with their own families. Somehow, she’d never considered that other people might not be as enamored with the idea as her.

  Jessie rested her back against the edge of the counter. “What about your mom? Is she coming up for Thanksgiving?”

  Kat shook her head, her heart sinking into her stomach. “I invited her to Imogene’s, but she couldn’t get the time off. She says she’ll definitely be here for Christmas though.”

  Jessie’s face lit up. “Well, there you go. That will be better anyway. Then you’ll have more time to get to know each other, just the two of you. From what I’ve heard, Imogene’s will be a zoo.”

  Kat held her tongue. She wasn’t sure if spending time alone with her mother was preferable to having a crowd around. She had been a child the last time they’d seen each other. Kat was thirty-two now, and who knew if they would get along as adults. At least at Imogene’s there would be other people around to help defuse tensions if it turned out they didn’t have so much in common after all.

  “Hey,” Jessie said, jerking Kat’s thoughts back to the present, “you know what I should do?”

  “What’s that?”

  “I should donate some food to CHATS. Since the restaurant is closed tomorrow, I don’t want too much stuff sitting around here anyway.”

  “I can drive it over there after my shift ends,” Kat volunteered.

  Jessie grinned. “Great. That will save me a trip later.”

  It would also give Kat a chance to check out the facility. If Sylvia’s mugger had followed her from the homeless shelter, he might be staying there. Perhaps she could ask around to see if anyone had noticed someone trailing Sylvia when she’d left the premises earlier that morning.

  The bell hanging from the front door chimed, and an older man ambled in. George’s sparse tufts of gray hair appeared to be even more windblown than normal, making him look a little like a mad scientist.

  “Hey, George,” Jessie called out.

  “Jess.” George shuffled up to the counter. “What’re you women cookin’ up today?”

  “Plans, George,” Jessie replied, flashing him a mischievous grin. “That and food.”

  “Well, I came here for the latter.” George plopped onto a stool. “Got anythin’ besides turkey?”

  Jessie made a face. “Of course. Who wants to eat turkey on the day before Thanksgiving?”

  “Got that right,” George concurred with a sharp nod.

  “Specials are up there.” Jessie pointed to a chalkboard pinned to the wall. “While you’re deciding, I’ll bring you a cup of my squash medley soup.”

  “Squash?” George scrunched up his nose.

  “Trust me, you’ll like it.” Jessie filled a glass with iced tea. “And it’s on the house.”

  George folded his arms on the counter. “Well, I’ll give it a shot, but no guarantees.”

  Jessie stuck a lemon wedge on the rim of the iced tea glass and set it in front of him. “Kat, before the rush starts, you can box up a few pies to take to CHATS,” she said over her shoulder.

  Kat took a step toward the pie case. “Okay.”

  George rotated toward Kat as Jessie ducked into the kitchen. “You’re bringin’ Jessie’s pies over to CHATS? The homeless joint?”

  Kat nodded. “Jessie’s donating some food to them for Thanksgiving.”

  “Well, that’s mighty nice of ya,” George said, exposing two rows of yellowed teeth as he smiled. “I know they’ve been havin’ some financial difficulties lately.”

  “They have?” Jessie said, popping out of the kitchen with a bowl of soup in her hands.

  George lifted one shoulder. “I didn’t talk to anybody official, mind you. I’m just tellin’ ya what I’ve heard ’round town.”

  Jessie set the soup in front of him. “Who did you hear it from?”

  “Buddy of mine who was there for a stint. Said he overheard a couple of the office women chatterin’ about holdin’ another fundraiser before Christmas.”

  Jessie propped her hip against the counter. “I would have doubled my contribution there last month if I had known they needed money that badly.”

  George jutted his chin toward the pie case. “You gonna let ’em have all those?”

  “Just the uncut ones that don’t sell before Kat’s shift is over.”

  “Well, save me a slice of pecan before you start givin’ all of it away.” George patted his tummy. “I can’t leave here without gettin’ a piece of that in my belly.”

  “Will do. I’ve made enough pecan pie this week to feed you and the rest of Cherry Hills too.”

  Kat straightened, hope germinating in her chest. “Hey, Jessie. You didn’t happen to make any vegan tofu pumpkin pies during your baking spree, did you?”

  “No. Why, is that what you’re taking to Imogene’s?”

  “Yeah, except the one I was working on this morning didn’t turn out so well.”

  “Your next one will be better,” Jessie said. “Baking, like anything else, takes practice.”

  Kat hoped it didn’t take too much practice. Thinking of the mess she’d left in her kitchen, she had a steep learning curve ahead of her if she intended to have a presentable dessert ready in time for supper tomorrow.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Cherry Hills Assistance and Transitional Shelter was impossible to miss. In addition to the sign near the street, Thanksgiving images had been painted on all the windows. The sun had already started setting by the time Kat pulled up to the building, but she could still see the decorations clearly. Turkeys in pilgrim hats vied for space alongside overflowing harvest baskets and clusters of pumpkins. As Kat got out of her car, she couldn’t help but admire the painter’s talent.

  She popped open her trunk and was immediately assaulted by the mouth-watering aromas of oven-roasted turkey, buttery mashed potatoes, and redolent fruit pies. Jessie had given her enough food to feed an army. The restaurant owner had insisted she was only donating the leftovers she would be forced to throw out otherwise, but Kat knew better. She had spied her boss working double-time in the kitchen to ensure there were enough ‘leftovers’ to feed anyone in Cherry Hills who might not have anywhere else to go tomorrow. Jessie was that way, always willing to help those less fortunate than she w
as.

  Kat was definitely going to miss working for her.

  She only dared to pick up two large foil-covered pans at once. Not only were they surprisingly heavy, but a fresh snowfall had dusted the sidewalk. She didn’t want to have too much food in her hands if she ended up slipping and falling.

  A gray-haired woman was stepping out of the building when Kat reached the entrance.

  “That for us?” she asked, holding the door open.

  “Yup.” Kat stepped inside. “Jessie of Jessie’s Diner sent it over for Thanksgiving.”

  “Any way I can get a taste now?”

  “That’s going to be up to the CHATS staff.”

  The woman lifted one shoulder, as if she hadn’t really expected Kat to oblige. Then she continued on her way.

  Kat followed the sound of voices and laughter, which led her to a cafeteria located at the end of a short hallway. Five people occupied the dining area. Two were involved in a spirited game of backgammon while the other three chatted nearby. Spying a bookcase full of board games and card decks, Kat gathered that the cafeteria served as a social meeting place in between meals.

  Moving farther into the room afforded her a view of the kitchen. Spread out on the other side of a long, metal counter, the kitchen looked to be almost as spacious as the dining area. A young man who couldn’t be older than twenty attended to a large pot on the stove. A woman in her fifties chopped vegetables beside him, her short, brown curls bunched up under a hairnet. Figuring they were likely staff, Kat stepped closer.

  “Excuse me,” she said.

  The young man stopped stirring to look over at her. “Yeah?”

  Kat slid the trays onto the counter. “These are from Jessie’s Diner. The owner wanted to send over some food for Thanksgiving tomorrow.”

  The woman set down the knife in her hand. “Jessie Polanski sent this?”

  Kat nodded. “When I told her what had happened to Sylvia Garcia, she wanted to help.”

  “Oh, Jessie is so sweet.” The woman frowned. “But how did you know about Sylvia?”

  “The mugging occurred outside my apartment building,” Kat explained.