Lykoi Larceny Read online

  “Can I use your bathroom to clean up?” When the reception nodded and pointed to the door, Marjorie gave a sigh of relief. The paper towels for drying hands weren’t the best at cleaning dried blood off skin, but they did a good enough job for her stomach to stop complaining.

  “Nothing wrong with him,” Walter announced as Marjorie came back into the waiting room. “Come on through.”

  “Why was he bleeding, then?”

  “Oh, it’s blood, but it doesn’t belong to this little fellow.” The vet chuckled as the kitten launched himself across the table and into Marjorie’s lap. “Looks like you’re someone’s new favourite.”

  “So, he isn’t hurt at all?”

  “With his scant fur covering, he shouldn’t be outside, so he might be cold. From now on, he needs to be strictly an indoor cat. But as for physical harm, I couldn’t find even a cut or scratch. Just as well, too. That’s one expensive kitty.”

  “This one?” Marjorie gave it a side-eye, trying to work out the breed. The kitten had sparse fur but not bare enough to be a Sphynx or a Devon Rex. His big grey eyes studied her as closely as she studied him, appearing close to human.

  “He’s a Lykoi and I know exactly where he belongs.” Walter fiddled with an old Filo-fax until giving a cry of triumph. “No wonder he ended up at your house. His owner only lives a couple of blocks away.”

  Now it was Walter’s turn to get Marjorie’s side-eye. In Hanmer, a block could mean anything from a half dozen houses to an acre. “Who is it?”

  “Well, now. The privacy act forbids me from saying anything…” The vet tapped the address card against his chin. “But if you just guessed somebody who might be good with money…”

  “You mean Martin Thorpe? The accountant?” Marjorie almost said my accountant, but it hadn’t been true for the past three months. Not since Martin announced he was downsizing his business prior to retirement and gave her somebody else’s number. The new man was perfectly adequate but an unwelcome change all the same.

  “I’ll get my receptionist to call him. Do you want to wait with Shadow until Martin comes?”

  Remembering her ride home had departed, Marjorie nodded. “That’ll be good.”

  A few minutes later, Walter returned with a pensive expression on his face. “No answer.”

  “You can keep him in overnight if you need to, can’t you?”

  “It’s not ideal for a kitten this young since there’ll be nobody to check on him till morning.” Walter leant over to pet Shadow under the chin. “And we’re about to close.”

  “What if I take him? I can pop around to Martin’s to see why he’s not answering his phone and keep him supervised overnight if I need to.”

  “That’d be great.” Walter gave a satisfied nod. “And we’ll keep trying his number until we close up for the night.”

  “Did you hear that, boy?” Marjorie lifted the kitten into the air, prompting some startled paddling from big paws. “You’re coming with me.”

  As Marjorie walked into the waiting room, she fumbled her phone out of her pocket. Although she’d juggled kittens for years, it hadn’t made her dextrous. She sat in a chair near the door and thumbed in Braden’s number.

  Straight to voicemail. Great.

  With a sigh, Marjorie eyed the distance from the vet’s office to the community centre near the centre of the village. If she kept a firm handle on Shadow, the walk wouldn’t take her more than a few minutes.

  And if Braden wasn’t there?

  Well, with a centre full of volunteers, Marjorie was certain someone else would be happy to lend a hand. If worse came to worst, an hour’s uphill climb to the café would probably do her legs and heart some good.

  “Let’s get outside and cadge a lift, what do you say?” she whispered to Shadow who seemed remarkably docile considering the day he’d had so far.

  Allie saw her approaching the community centre and strode outside, shaking her head. “Braden’s gone if that’s who you’re after. He said there was an urgent zombie horde he needed to dispatch.”

  Marjorie laughed as the older woman pulled her mouth down at the corners. “It sounds like important work.”

  “Sounds like something he should have outgrown by now.”

  “I don’t suppose anyone else could give me a lift up the hill?”

  “I can take you.”

  She turned, surprised to see Jon hovering, wiping his hands on a dirty rag. If he wanted to get them clean, he should have chosen more wisely. To her eyes, the young man had just wiped more grease onto his skin than had been wiped off.

  “That’d be lovely,” she said, then hesitated, glancing towards Allie. “Are you allowed to drive the van?”

  “If his licence is valid, and he’s providing a useful service, he can.”

  Jon had already nodded and muttered, “Yes,” by the time Allie finished.

  “Swing by Felix and Dotty’s place on the way back,” she instructed as he jumped into the driver’s seat. “Check to see if any further presents have been dropped off.”

  The young man gave a wave as he accelerated out of the car park. “I didn’t get nothing for Christmas when I was young. Don’t see why everybody should be expected to reach into their pockets now.”

  “They do it because it makes them feel good, and it’s fun to pick out presents for children,” Marjorie answered, uncertain if he’d even been addressing the complaint to her. “And I’m sorry if you missed out as a child, but it doesn’t mean these youngsters should.”

  “Yeah, alright. I don’t need a lecture.” Jon shook his head, the greasy brown locks flying. “S’bad enough I have to work from sunup to sundown.”

  “Doesn’t it make you feel great?” she asked, genuinely interested. “The work you do at the community centre is important. It impacts on everyone in town.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” was the sullen reply, though Jon’s chest puffed out a little with pride.

  “I’m at the top of this road,” Marjorie instructed. “Just past the building site.”

  “I know where you live.” The words made her feel a little uneasy but soon Jon followed up with a gruff, “Everyone in this town knows everything about everybody.”

  “They sure do. It can be a blessing as often as it’s a curse.”

  He dropped her outside, giving a short wave as he turned the van around and headed for Felix’s house. Marjorie cuddled Shadow to her chest as she pulled out her keys and headed inside.

  The welcome she received was excited enough to tell her she’d missed normal feeding time. Monkey Business loudly explained exactly how late along with an extensive rundown on how it had affected every single one of them.

  At least, Marjorie presumed that’s what his constant yowling signified since it went on until she finished filling up their bowls and his mouth became otherwise engaged.

  “Now, fill up your tummy, then we’ll head home and see if your owner’s about.” Marjorie rubbed the back of her neck and yawned as she waited for Shadow to finish eating. If Martin was home, he was about to get a piece of her mind.

  Bad enough to let a full-grown cat loose on the neighbourhood. Letting a kitten out of his eyesight for so long was far worse.

  Of course, she should get his side of the story first. With a rueful smile, Marjorie recalled Houdini, a kitten she’d fostered for a time. He’d loved nothing more than slipping out while she wasn’t looking, as though her home was a full-time escape room challenge.

  “But if he doesn’t have a good excuse, he’d better settle in for a long lecture.”

  Shadow soon polished off the contents of his bowl, leaving her wondering how long it’d been since he’d last eaten. As soon as his hunger was satisfied, the kitten clung close to her heels, pressing against her ankles and nudging the back of her legs when she walked.

  “You’ll trip me if you’re not careful,” Marjorie exclaimed, lifting Shadow up and cuddling him since it seemed safer. Monkey protested the arrangement immediately, turning his ba
ck and sticking his nose in the air as though in a huff.

  “Home time. When the Persian says you’ve outstayed your welcome, I have to listen.” Marjorie popped the Lykoi into a carrier and set off on foot for the short walk to Martin’s house.

  “Knock, knock,” she called out, accompanying the words with the action. “Anybody home?”

  After the second try, she walked around the side of the house, pushing past a stubborn branch to reach the side gate. With another call going unanswered, Marjorie walked into the back of the property and came to a halt.

  Martin Thorpe’s body lay on the concrete, a ladder tipped on its side nearby.

  Chapter Three

  Marjorie put the pet carrier down, facing away from Martin, and dialled emergency. She didn’t need to check the body for signs of life. The one snapshot her eyes took of the scene was enough to convince her he was dead.

  “Ambulance,” she said to the dispatcher, then immediately second-guessed herself. “Or the police. A man’s died.”

  With the assurance both were on their way, the pleasant-voiced responder asked a series of questions, few of which Marjorie could answer. While concentrating on what the address was and whether any of the doors and windows were unlocked, the time passed and soon a police vehicle pulled into the driveway.

  “Getting into trouble again?” Sergeant Matthewson asked in a resigned tone. “Could you show me what you’ve found?”

  “He’s around there,” Marjorie said, pointing. After having moved through the gate to the front of the house, she had no intention of returning to the horrible scene. One glimpse was enough to ruin her Christmas spirit.

  “Don’t go anywhere,” the sergeant said before disappearing behind the house. Soon Marjorie heard the crackle of his radio, but she couldn’t make out any words. Within a minute, another police car arrived, and two uniformed officers walked around the back. Not long after that, a van pulled up and Dr Every—the town pathologist—joined the growing throng.

  “Martin in trouble, is he?” a man called out from the footpath. He appeared to be in his fifties, white-haired, dressed as though ready for the golf course, and with his arms folded and a stern expression on his face.

  “I probably shouldn’t talk about it.” Marjorie shifted her weight from one foot to the other, then bent over to check on Shadow who stared out at her with calm resignation. “Are you a friend?”

  “Used to be.” The man sniffed. “Now Martin and I are just neighbours since he’s too good to deal with my business.”

  “I wouldn’t feel bad,” Marjorie said, although it appeared the man was already in deep on that score. “Martin severed my business arrangement as well.”

  “Really?” For the first time, the man looked her full in the face. “I’m Nigel Blythe,” he said, sticking out his hand. “You own the kitten café down the road, don’t you?”

  “That’s me. Marjorie Hardaway.” She shuffled a step closer to him, preferring the company of a virtual stranger to waiting alone. “I’m afraid Martin’s had an accident.”

  Nigel scanned the property and the police car before returning his eyes to her face. “Fatal?”

  She nodded, unable to trust her voice.

  “You found him?”

  She nodded again.

  “Sorry about that. It must’ve been a horrid shock.” He rubbed at the side of his face where his eyebrow was twitching. “And my apologies if I sounded harsh before. I liked Martin until a few months ago. Since then, it seems like we do nothing but argue.”

  “About him not handling your accounts any longer?”

  Nigel snorted, then put a hand up to cover his nose and mouth, perhaps realising the sound was inappropriate in the circumstances. “No, that wasn’t it. I couldn’t care less about the numbers, it was just the way he told me, you know? And then his spouting went wonky and sent a constant stream of water into my back yard. Every time I tried to talk to him in a rational tone, it ended up a shouting match.”

  “Seems everyone in town is on edge, lately.”

  “You can say that again.” Nigel put his hands on his hips and surveyed the street. Another neighbour was out, collecting his mail from the letterbox, and they exchanged a nod before the man walked back indoors. “His ex will be happy at the news.”

  Marjorie’s eyes widened. She didn’t hold any candles for her ex-husband either, but she wouldn’t be happy to find out he’d died. “Was their relationship that bad?”

  “Only with the division of property. Their settlement’s been held up in court, time and time again because she reckons Martin’s hiding money. She even got one of those forensic accountants in to look over everything.”

  “I suppose it takes an accountant to know an accountant.”

  “Yeah.” Nigel ran a hand over his face, shaking his head as though to wake himself. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this, should I? My mother would turn over in her grave to think I’d grown into a gossip.”

  “Not to worry.” Marjorie put a hand on his arm for a second. “It’s just the shock talking and I’m not about to tell anyone.”

  “Good. Thank you.” He glanced back at his own driveway. “I should get back since I left my tea cooking on the stove. Did you want to come over to mine if you’re waiting for the police?”

  “I’m fine here.” Marjorie jerked her head in the café's direction. “And I can always head down the road if this takes too long.”

  He waved goodbye and shuffled back inside, stopping at the doorway for one last glance at the scene. When he’d gone, Marjorie shivered and lifted the cat carrier up to talk to Shadow at face level. “When this is over, you can sit with me in front of the television until it’s bedtime.”

  Sergeant Matthewson emerged from the house not long after. “Sorry about the wait. I’ll just grab a few details, then you can be on your way. What are you doing at Mr Thorpe’s residence?”

  “Returning his pet.” Marjorie held Shadow out as evidence. “I found this little one near the café earlier and the vet said he belonged to Martin. I mean, Mr Thorpe.” She paused for a second, biting her bottom lip. “When I found the kitten, he was covered in blood.”

  The sergeant bent over and stared in through the bars of the carrier. Shadow gave him one glance before closing his eyes and falling back to sleep. “Are you able to keep the cat until we establish if a friend or relative wants to take ownership?”

  Marjorie nodded. “It’s what I was planning to do if Martin wasn’t home.” She blanched as the scene popped into her head and rubbed her forehead until it disappeared again. “Did he fall?”

  “Looks that way, although we won’t know anything for sure until the pathologist is through with his investigation. Dr Every doesn’t like to give anything away.” He cleared his throat and glanced at the open notebook in his hand. “What time did you get here?”

  “Six thirty or thereabouts. I usually feed the kittens at five but got caught up with this new arrival so was late. Once that was done, I walked straight here.”

  “Can you describe what you did once you got here?”

  “Knocked on the front door twice and called out. When Martin didn’t answer I went around the side and…” She trailed off.

  “The gate wasn’t locked?”

  “No. I just pushed it open.”

  Sergeant Matthewson’s brows drew together, and he frowned at his pad. “It’s okay if you did something more to get around the back. Nobody’s interested in prosecuting you for breaking and entering. We just want to get all the details straight.”

  Marjorie had no idea what he was talking about. “I didn’t break in.” She pointed to the side path as though it would help with the sergeant’s understanding. “The gate wasn’t locked. I pushed a few branches out of the way and walked around the side, into the back garden.”

  “Okay.” Matthewson snapped his notebook shut and tucked it away. “You haven’t seen anyone else about, have you?”

  “A neighbour was out here a few minute
s ago. Nigel.”

  The sergeant jerked his head left, then right, and Marjorie nodded at the second gesture. “Right, then. We’ll let you get back with what you were doing.” He twiddled his fingers at Shadow who still appeared to be sleeping. “And we’ll see if we can find someone who wants the cat.”

  Marjorie walked home in a daze, thrusting unwelcome thoughts out of her head all the way. The moment she walked into her lounge she turned the television on, grateful for the stranger’s faces and voices that drowned out the unwelcome visions in her head.

  She let Shadow out of the carrier and he promptly glued himself to her heels again, providing the reason for his name. Although she didn’t feel much like eating, Marjorie prepared a pot of tea, gulping down a few cups with generous helpings of milk and sugar until she felt more like herself.

  Monkey Business strolled into the room and jumped onto the sofa. Judging from the expression on the chocolate Persian’s face, he was appalled to find a kitten already seated in Marjorie’s lap.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, tickling Monkey behind his ears, just the way he liked. “It’s just for this evening. This fellow’s had a big shock and I don’t think he wants to be alone.”

  The Persian gave a huff of annoyance but settled beside her, giving Shadow an occasional foul glance. When she regretfully turned off the television, feeling the earlier images crowd back into her head, Marjorie was amused to see Monkey give the Lykoi a bop on the nose when he tried to follow too closely.

  “Yes. You are the number one cat around here,” she assured him, picking him up for a cuddle and burying her nose into his long fur. “There’s no doubt about that. But cut our new guest a bit of slack, eh?”

  Monkey Business rolled his eyes but allowed Shadow to press against her while Marjorie brushed her teeth. She popped the two of them into the kitten pen for sleeping and gave a smile when Monkey pulled the Lykoi close and encircled him while they dozed.

  Chapter Four

  “It says here, the breed is a naturally occurring mutation but has only become established in the last few years,” Esme read aloud from her phone screen. “There’s a breeder in Australia but nothing in New Zealand so far.”