Framed in Cherry Hills (Cozy Cat Caper Mystery Book 2) Read online

  Imogene’s face darkened. “Why does she have to wait until Monday?”

  “The courts reopen then.”

  Imogene squeezed her lips together. She didn’t look happy about the prospect of Willow spending all weekend in a cell.

  Kat turned toward Dan, remembering that he hadn’t yet answered her question. “Dan, has Willow ever been known to do drugs?”

  He shook his head. “Willow wouldn’t know a bag of cocaine from a bag of flour. Somebody planted that stuff there to frame her, I know it.”

  “Are you sure whoever put the cocaine there meant for her to get caught with it?” Kat asked.

  Imogene scowled. “Of course. Why else would those drugs have been there?”

  “Somebody could have hidden it there intending to recover it later,” Kat proposed. Although the glove compartment struck her as an unlikely hiding spot, she couldn’t completely rule out the possibility. People had been known to do sillier things when under the influence of drugs.

  Like give up their daughters, Kat thought before shaking the notion away.

  “No,” Dan said. “That bag fell right out of the glove box when Willow opened it, is what she told me. Whoever put it there wanted it to be found.”

  Kat considered that. “Maybe they thought they had pushed it back far enough, but it shifted positions while she was driving.”

  Dan scoffed. “Have you ever driven in a car with Willow?”

  “No, today was supposed to be the first time we met.”

  “Well, she drives like a squirrel is going to jump in front of her car at any minute,” Dan said. “She refuses to go a mile over the speed limit, and prefers coasting to a stop whenever possible.”

  “It’s been raining pretty hard,” Kat reminded him. “If she had to slam on the brakes because her car skidded out of control, that bag could have gotten knocked around.”

  Although, she had to silently admit, Dan certainly hadn’t painted the picture of a woman who enjoyed living on the edge, whether it be from defying traffic laws or using drugs.

  Imogene started moving around the room again. “This is like something out of a nightmare.”

  “Well, if you say she didn’t do it, we’ll get to the bottom of it,” Kat assured her.

  A flicker of anger flashed in Imogene’s eyes. “I’m not just saying she didn’t do it, She. Didn’t. Do. It.”

  Kat didn’t reply, unable to think of any words to calm Imogene down. Maybe she simply had to release all of her pent-up anger before she could be placated.

  Besides, something else was nagging at her. “Dan, you said Willow was pulled over because her taillights were out?” Kat asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “As in taillights, plural?”

  “That’s what she told me,” Dan confirmed. “But she was crying so I may have misunderstood.”

  Imogene clucked her tongue. “The poor thing must be in shock.”

  “What are the odds of both of her taillights burning out at the same time?” Kat mused aloud. Although she could write off the drugs as another instance of people never really knowing one another, she couldn’t dismiss the two nonfunctioning taillights as easily. That wasn’t a matter of familiarity, just probability.

  Imogene stopped pacing. “You think that’s significant?”

  Kat shrugged. “If what you’re saying is true and somebody put those drugs there—”

  “Of course what I’m saying is true!”

  “—it’s possible they also disabled her taillights to ensure she would be pulled over and caught with those drugs in her car,” Kat concluded.

  Imogene snapped her fingers. “We’ll have to ask her if she noticed anything about her lights. When the despicable scumbag who did this broke them, he would have left glass shattered somewhere, right?”

  “Or plastic,” Kat concurred. “But that might be too obvious. If they didn’t want Willow to notice the taillights before the cops pulled her over, they might have just unscrewed the bulbs.”

  “How do you do that?” Imogene asked, looking intrigued.

  “I have no idea,” Kat admitted. “But if you can replace a taillight, there has to be a way to disable one without leaving broken plastic behind.”

  Imogene’s head bobbed, her nodding growing in momentum until Kat thought she would pull a neck muscle. “Yes, yes.”

  Kat drummed her fingers against the couch. “The question is, who would have done such a thing?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Thankfully, Imogene calmed down enough to stop by Kat’s apartment after their visit with Dan Wu. As an added bonus, the storm had started to move on, making the drive back considerably more pleasant.

  Matty and Tom got along surprisingly well their first evening together. Imogene had warned that the introduction might take days, but when neither cat displayed any signs of hostility she could see no point in keeping them separated.

  The two cats had acted rather cautious at first, checking each other out from a safe distance. Imogene waited until she saw them both resting comfortably in the living room before she decided they should be okay. Long after Imogene had left, Kat spied them grooming each other. The licking frenzy had transitioned into a wrestling match minutes later, which Kat kept thinking might turn violent, but the duo merely seemed to enjoy chasing each other around, hiding behind furniture, and pouncing when their opponent wasn’t looking. They hadn’t engaged in any outright acts of aggression, so she had let them be.

  Still, Kat couldn’t banish her fears that the animals were secretly waiting for her to leave them alone so they could tear into each other without interference. When she got out of bed the next morning, the first thing she did was verify they were both okay.

  Matty was in her favorite corner of the couch, looking just as content as ever. Tom was lying by the front door, but when he spotted her he stood up and sauntered in her direction, meowing the whole way.

  Kat bent down to rub him between his ears. “How are you doing this morning, boy?”

  Tom responded by meowing louder.

  Matty glanced at them. The look on her face suggested she couldn’t believe Tom was stooping so low as to make idle chitchat with a human.

  Once Tom received his fill of attention, Kat headed to the kitchen. She’d learned that Matty felt strongly about receiving breakfast on time and would begin her own meowing storm if she wasn’t fed on schedule.

  After setting up two bowls on opposite ends of the kitchen so there would be no inclination to fight over the food, Kat checked the time, curious whether Imogene had received any updates concerning Willow. Thinking about the woman sitting in a jail cell, she couldn’t stop her mind from inevitably drifting to her mother.

  Although Kat knew her mother had been a junkie, her knowledge ended there. She didn’t know if she had ever served time or if she even had a record. She couldn’t remember ever meeting her mother, yet she must have when she was very young.

  Kat wondered if anyone had ever tried to help her mother out of her own situation, as Imogene had pledged to help Willow. Imogene’s outrage on her friend’s behalf touched a piece of Kat’s heart, and she couldn’t help but admire the woman’s fierce loyalty to her friend. If it wasn’t for Imogene’s conviction that Willow was innocent, Kat probably could have let her arrest go and moved on. As it was, Imogene’s belief that Willow had been framed haunted Kat throughout the day.

  She remained preoccupied by thoughts of Willow the rest of Sunday and into her waitressing shift at Jessie’s Diner Monday afternoon. When the lunch rush ended, the lull in business gave her mind more time to wander, and she found herself remembering Dan’s pleading gaze when Imogene had suggested that Kat help them build Willow’s defense. If she didn’t do something, she knew the guilt would overwhelm her.

  “Katherine Harper?”

  Hearing her name jerked Kat back to the present. She turned to the woman beckoning her. Although the brunette was quite pretty, her beauty was marred by the angry set of her mou
th and the way her brows knitted together. Even her hair—a tangle of wild curls jumping around her face—looked angry.

  “I’m sorry,” Kat said, mustering up a smile. “Do I know you?”

  The woman tilted her nose up. “You should. We went to Cherry Hills High together.”

  Kat searched for something familiar about her but drew a blank. That didn’t really surprise her. Despite the relatively small class sizes at Cherry Hills High, she hadn’t made many friends there and hadn’t kept in touch with those she had. “I’m afraid I’ve blocked out those memories,” she said, forcing a laugh.

  The woman didn’t look amused. “I’m Victoria Jones. Although, it’s Easton now.”

  Something clicked in Kat’s brain, sending an icy coolness spreading throughout her chest. “Vicky Jones?”

  The woman flinched, and Kat had to wonder if she’d said something wrong. “Yes, but I prefer Victoria.”

  Kat’s stomach clenched. She had never liked Vicky Jones. She could still remember the condescending stares that Vicky and her clique of popular girls frequently aimed at those they deemed beneath them. Thankfully, Kat had been a freshman when Vicky was a senior, and she’d only had to endure those uncomfortable looks for one year.

  Still, that was ages ago, Kat reminded herself. And high school didn’t always bring out the best in people. Maybe Vicky had changed.

  “It’s been a long time,” Kat said, hoping she sounded suitably amiable. “How have you been?”

  “I’ve been well,” Vicky said, although her voice was flat as though she didn’t really mean it. She set one hand on the man beside her. “This is my husband, Sam.”

  Sam smiled up at Kat. “Howdy.”

  Vicky gestured across the table to a tall, lanky teenager hunched over in his seat. “And this is my son, Josh.”

  Josh didn’t acknowledge the introduction. Kat could hear the music pouring out of the earbuds shoved in his ears.

  Vicky’s face darkened. She reached over and yanked one of the earbuds out. “Josh, let’s be present, shall we?”

  Josh didn’t look pleased, but he dutifully removed the earbuds, mashed the wires into a ball, and shoved them into his jeans pocket before slumping against the seat.

  “Say hello to Ms. Harper,” Vicky commanded.

  “Hi, Ms. Harper,” Josh mumbled, not even looking at Kat.

  “Hi.” Kat glanced around the restaurant, wishing there were more customers around. She would relish any opportunity to escape from this table and the surrounding tension. Apparently, the Vicky Jones she’d known in high school hadn’t matured at all. She’d only become Victoria Easton the Shrew.

  Vicky’s lip curled. “I heard you’ve joined that elitist little group, Furry Beasts?”

  “It’s Furry Friends,” Kat corrected, ignoring Vicky’s snide tone. “And yes, I started volunteering there just recently.”

  Vicky leaned back and folded her arms across her chest. “They cut Sam off, you know.”

  Kat cocked her head. “Cut him off?”

  Sam turned toward Vicky. “Do we need to talk about this now?”

  Vicky glared at him. “Yes, we need to talk about it. What that Chinese woman did to you was completely uncalled for.”

  Kat’s heart skipped a beat. “You mean Willow Wu?”

  Vicky nodded tightly.

  “What did Willow do?” Kat asked, no longer itching to escape as her curiosity got the better of her.

  “She told Sam she was going to find herself a big-city caterer from Wenatchee,” Vicky spat. “Like Sam isn’t good enough to cater her little dog party.”

  “I told you the decision was mutual.” Sam faced Kat before reiterating, less sharply, “The decision was mutual.”

  Vicky snorted. “Mutual my foot. You wouldn’t have turned down that job. That would have been a good chunk of change in our pockets.”

  “It was a charity event, Victoria.” Sam sounded weary, as if he’d already had this exact same conversation many times before. “I barely cover costs when I charge my charity rate.”

  “Well, I’ve told you before to reconsider that,” Vicky snapped. “You work just as hard. Why not charge just as much?”

  Josh turned his head down before reaching over and grabbing the salt shaker. He studied it as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world.

  Vicky squinted at him. “Josh, you aren’t planning on eating with those dirty hands, are you?”

  “Mom.” Josh stretched out the word as he dropped the salt shaker like a hot potato and tucked his hands into his long-sleeved shirt.

  Vicky extended her arm over the empty booth behind them, aiming one perfect fingernail toward the restrooms in back. “You need to march yourself into that bathroom and clean your nails this instant. They’re filthy.”

  “Victoria,” Sam said with a sigh.

  Vicky ignored him and faced Kat. “He works with his hands.” She subjected Kat to a disdainful once-over, then added, “Like you.”

  Kat gathered that Vicky didn’t approve of any job that required the use of one’s hands. But she let the insult pass, choosing instead to fish her order pad out of her apron pocket. “So, what can I get you to eat?”

  “I’ll take the chicken potpie and an iced tea,” Sam piped up, seeming just as anxious as Kat to change the subject.

  “I’ll need a moment to find something decent on this menu,” Vicky said, easing out of the booth. “In the meantime, you can bring me a mineral water.” She aimed her narrow-eyed glare at Josh. “Josh, follow me.”

  Josh seemed to spill out of his seat before trudging after his mother, who marched in the direction of the bathrooms. The sound of Vicky’s pencil-thin heels striking against the hard floor echoed like gunfire throughout the nearly empty restaurant.

  Kat turned to go, but Sam grabbed her wrist before she could escape.

  “I’m sorry about her,” he said, releasing Kat’s arm.

  “Oh.” She hesitated to say anything, not wanting to give any indication that she’d picked up on Vicky’s rudeness even if it was so obvious that nobody could miss it.

  “She’s been rather . . . difficult this summer, ever since Josh has taken to moping around the house,” Sam went on. “His attitude has taken a toll on Victoria as well.”

  Kat managed a smile. “It’s okay.”

  The sour look on Sam’s face seemed to indicate he didn’t think it was okay, but Kat gave him credit for not bad-mouthing his foul-tempered wife behind her back.

  “Did something happen this summer?” Kat asked.

  “Nothing life-threatening. Josh got cut from next year’s football team at Cherry Hills High. Ever since then he’s been moody, to say the least. He’s fifteen, when every setback feels like the end of the world. His attitude has really worn on Victoria.”

  “Naturally they’re both disappointed,” Kat said, trying to be generous. “But maybe he can try out for another sport.”

  “He’s ineligible for any sport.” A shadow crossed over Sam’s face. “He was cut because he didn’t keep his grades up. When he failed one of his classes last year, that was the last straw.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yes, well.” Sam pursed his lips a moment, then said, “Anyway, I hope Victoria’s tirade doesn’t give you a bad impression of me or my business. Easton’s Eats has no hard feelings toward Furry Friends Foster Families, and if circumstances change in the future we’d be delighted to reconsider a partnership.”

  “Why did Willow opt to go with another caterer?” Kat asked, interested to learn more about the woman she still had yet to meet.

  “Why we decided I wouldn’t be the best fit for 4F’s needs,” Sam amended.

  “Right.” Kat detected a sharpness to Sam’s tone, and she wondered if he was unusually sensitive to comments that might cast Easton’s Eats in a negative light. She figured most of his business resulted from word of mouth, and doubted Vicky was much help in that regard.

  “There were a couple reasons. First, the he
adcount for the benefit dinner is starting to exceed my means. I told Willow if attendance stayed under seventy folks I would have no problems managing, but my understanding is you’re expecting more people than that already and you’re still selling tickets for another two weeks.”

  Kat nodded as if she were in the know. Really, she had no idea how many people had already secured seats.

  “The other big deciding factor was that I’ve never catered an all-vegan dinner before,” Sam continued. “I make a mean chicken cacciatore, but cabbage rolls?” He shrugged. “I don’t have much experience with rabbit food.”

  Kat studied him, trying to pick up whether he harbored any resentment toward Willow or 4F for the strict meal requirements. If he was mad enough to plant that bag of cocaine in Willow’s car before she left his company on Saturday, Kat couldn’t tell by looking at him.

  The click of stiletto heels approaching caused Kat to stiffen. Vicky materialized with hands on hips.

  “Where’s Josh?” she demanded.

  “Still in the bathroom, I presume,” Sam said.

  Vicky turned on her heel and stormed back the way she’d come.

  Kat cleared her throat. “Well, I should go get your drinks.”

  Sam offered her a weak smile. “Thank you.”

  Kat scurried away, eager to duck behind the safety of the counter before Victoria Easton returned.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Kat was pleased to see Andrew Milhone strolling into Jessie’s Diner about an hour after the Eastons departed. Sam had left her a big tip on his way out the door, and she felt a bit sad for him, figuring he was offering it as compensation for Vicky’s snotty attitude. She had to wonder how anyone could stay married to someone so unpleasant.

  Andrew smiled when he spotted her. “Hey.”

  “Hi.” Kat’s heart skipped a beat when a chunk of his sandy hair flopped over his forehead. She and Andrew had grown up together but lost touch after high school. Since their reunion a couple weeks ago, she’d often wondered how she’d lived fifteen years without him in her life.

  Andrew slipped into a booth and gestured toward the man who had come in with him. “Kat, this is Raoul.”