The Realm of the Shadows (Tropical Breeze Cozy Mystery Book 2) (19 page)

Charlie’s crew finished up and by the middle of the next week, I had Cadbury House to myself and began moving animals into the cabins and the barn.

But first, I went back to my old house to re-acquaint myself with Shiloh. We hadn’t been together for long when the business had started at Cadbury House, and I was looking forward to reuniting with her. Before I’d decided to keep her for myself, she’d been my therapy dog at the shelter, since we’d found we couldn’t adopt her out. She had a lot of behavior problems. Still, she was sweet, and I could go to her and tell her my troubles.

When I came in, Angie was just giving Shiloh breakfast, and I didn’t get between the dog and her food. In fact, she didn’t make much of a fuss over me beyond a look of recognition and a wag of the tail.

“Has she been a good girl?” I asked, as Angie set a mug of coffee on the table for me and sat down.

“The best! We love it here, and we get along just fine. Look, Taylor, I’ve been wanting to ask you. The sale of the house fell through, right?”

“Right. But I have to keep it on the market, Angie. I need the money.”

“I know, I know. But until you sell, would you mind . . . I’d pay you rent. I’ve got some money saved, and I’m going to put my trailer up for sale and look for an apartment in town. But it’s so convenient, living here and working at the shelter, and I love how quiet it is out here. Shiloh and me . . . we just . . . fit. I’ll take good care of her,” she went on quickly, and before she could go on I started laughing.

“You want my house
and
my dog?”

“Oh, Taylor, don’t put it like that! That’s not what I mean.”

“I know.” I stopped and looked at her, thinking sometimes things really do work out for the best. “Okay. Yes to both, but I still need to sell my house. And are you going to find an apartment where they’ll take a dog like Shiloh? You know she’s a nipper, and too excitable. And she barks. A lot.”

“But I can bring her to the shelter with me when I work, right? And there are a few apartment buildings in Tropical Breeze that let you have a pet. I’ve got my name on a waiting list at three of them, and one of them is bound to open up soon.”

“All right. Is that okay with you, Shiloh?”

The dog had finished her breakfast and came to the table wagging her tail. Her affectionate eyes were looking at me, but she went to sit by Angie.

“That’s okay, girl,” I said. “For somebody like me, who’s always running around, it would probably be better to have a cat.”

“Alone at last,” Michael said, lifting his wineglass.

We were sitting in the great room with the house quiet and night coming down around the windows, making us feel all alone in our cozy little world. Myrtle had gone up to her room for the night, Ed had gone home days before, there were no TV people running around, and even the lady in the loft was gone.

“I wanted to let you know that Bud and Wesley are turning themselves in tomorrow,” Michael told me soberly.

“I’m sorry. I know they committed a crime, but it still has to hurt. They were your friends.”

He nodded silently.

“And you? What if they start flinging accusations at you?”

“They’ve already been interviewed by the State’s Attorney’s office. They aren’t implicating me.”

I exhaled and laid my head back on the sofa. “Thank God.”

He put his arm behind me and massaged my neck. Then he said, “Well, will you look at that. You didn’t tell me the cat came back.”

It was Basket. After the confrontation in the keeper’s house, she had disappeared, and I hadn’t been surprised. She’d done that before. I hadn’t expected to see her again, but there she was, walking into the great room from the direction of Vesta’s old bedroom. She looked at us blandly and got up on the sofa, forcing her way in between us. Michael had to move aside for her.

“Where did she come from?” Michael asked.

“Myrtle must have let her in and not told us.”

Actually, I doubted it, but it would do for an explanation. The cat appeared and disappeared when it suited her. The only mystery to me was why she was here now that the murderer was locked up. I didn’t need her protection anymore.

And then a thought suddenly struck me, and I asked, “Michael, did you buy any of Vesta’s stuff at Girlfriend’s when we got that donation?”

“Didn’t everybody? I got a little paperweight that looks like King Tut’s golden mask. I keep it on my desk back in town.”

I was getting a vague idea about what the cat’s presence might mean. Everybody in Tropical Breeze had some of Vesta’s things now. We were all connected . . . .

My coalescing thoughts were interrupted when the cat made a move, turning her head sharply to stare at me. I was almost afraid to touch her. In the time she’d lived with me, she had never acted like a housecat. But Michael, who didn’t know her real identity, stroked her gently and crooned at her. She turned to gaze at him loftily, but permitted it.

“I think she might just be starting to like me,” he said. Then he angled his head and looked at her critically. “You know, she’s really too queenly for a name like Basket. But she probably knows her name by now, so we probably shouldn’t change it. Oh! How about this? Let’s call her Bastet, after the ancient Egyptian cat goddess. It sounds the same, and it suits her better. What do you think, girl? Do you want us to call you Bastet?”

The cat gazed at him coolly, put her head down and closed her eyes.

“She’s not easy to get to know,” I said, touching her gingerly.

“You’re not afraid of her, are you? You’ve handled thousands of cats.”

“Never one like her.”

“Oh? That must be why you adopted her.”

“I’m not sure I did.”

“Oh, yes,” he said, laughing. “You told me before. She adopted you.”

He had no idea how right he was.

The End