The Cat Collector Read online

  Jasmine and Knickerbocker had been keenly observing from the floor. As if of one mind, they jumped onto the table and began eating out of the bowls as Wrigley, apparently full, leapt off the table.

  “Well, everybody’s predicting now.” Annoyed, Claudia looked at her watch. “Shouldn’t we be leaving for the restaurant?”

  Steve’s eyes grew keen with renewed energy. “You bet. Let’s go.” He looked at her in a meaningful way—a meaning only he understood.

  What on earth is going on with him? Claudia grabbed her handbag and followed him out. What happened to the sensible, down-to-earth detective I thought I knew?

  CHAPTER nine

  Dinner at The Old Mill

  The Old Mill was bustling, as usual, on a Saturday evening. To Claudia’s surprise, they were shown to a table by the window that looked onto the garden and the stream on which the century-old, wooden mill wheel turned. The historic mill had been refurbished and turned into a restaurant in the 1970’s, and had prospered in its new form ever since.

  Claudia looked out at the grassy stream where Mallard ducks floated by. She felt calmed from her earlier displeasure at Steve asking Wrigley for a prediction on whether they should marry, and his odd reaction when Wrigley chose no. Maybe Steve meant the whole thing in fun. Except somehow she didn’t think it was funny. That’s over. Time to enjoy dinner.

  “I never expected to get such a prize table,” she said. “I didn’t ask for anything special when I made the reservation.”

  Steve didn’t seem surprised. “Guess we lucked out.” He opened his menu. “How about some champagne?”

  “Really?” Claudia lifted her shoulders. “Okay. We didn’t celebrate the other cases we solved this much.”

  “Time to start a new tradition.”

  “You mean I’ll keep getting involved in murder cases?” Claudia said. “I hope not.”

  Their smiling, bald-headed waiter appeared and Steve ordered two glasses of champagne. They perused the menu and discussed the options.

  “I’d like to order duck,” Claudia said. “But after seeing those darling ducks floating along in the stream outside, I can’t. Even though that’s what I feed Wrigley—duck and green pea cat food. Now I feel guilty.”

  Steve chuckled. “You’re adorable. They have some vegetarian dishes.”

  When their waiter reappeared with two glasses of champagne, they ordered the Moroccan Stew made of chickpeas and vegetables.

  Steve raised his glass. “To us. We’re a great team.”

  She grinned and clinked glasses.

  After they’d both taken a sip, Steve said, “You know, I still think Wrigley was on the right track about marriage. A lot of young people nowadays think marriage is an antiquated idea.”

  Claudia slumped in her seat. “This again?”

  “I think we should make some determination as to where we’re headed,” Steve said, matter-of-factly.

  “Aren’t we doing fine as we are?”

  “Exactly.” Steve sounded quite sure of himself. “Half of marriages end in divorce. A marriage license is just a piece of paper, after all.”

  Claudia found herself taking umbrage. “Well, that’s a dumb old argument. I thought a police detective would have more respect for the law. A license is a legal document, isn’t it? It makes a relationship lawful, so if you were in a hospital, I’d be able to visit you.”

  Steve shrugged. “But we’re both healthy.”

  “Peter died in a hospital. If I wasn’t married to him, I wouldn’t have been allowed to be with him at the end.”

  Steve nodded in a serious way. “You have a point there. Any other arguments to make?”

  “Married people get tax breaks.”

  “That’s not a very romantic reason,” Steve said.

  “This whole conversation isn’t very romantic,” Claudia replied. “We’re supposed to be celebrating, not arguing. Can’t we talk about something else?”

  “Okay.” He leaned back in his chair. “What should we talk about?”

  “What happened when you booked Stanislaus?”

  “He gave us a full confession. Bawled his eyes out. I believe he really didn’t intend to kill Mrs. Worthington. He’d left a basement window unlocked when he was cleaning. It’s at the side of the house. The security system was off.”

  “Is that how he got in when he tried to steal Wrigley?”

  “Yup. And he snuck in the same way today, shortly before we got there. He was in the living room when he heard us unlocking the door, so he ducked behind the screen. And luckily you saw him.” Steve raised his glass to her.

  After they sipped champagne, Steve asked how things were going at the cat clinic. Claudia told him they’d had an increase of new clients since they’d been in the news as the place Wrigley was taken.

  Their plates of Moroccan Stew were brought and they ate in silence for a while, which made Claudia nervous. Steve seemed to be preoccupied in his own thoughts. They ordered desserts, apple pie ala mode for him and key lime pie for her. While they were waiting, Steve leaned forward.

  “I’ve been thinking, another reason not to marry is we won’t have to hassle about which house we’ll live in, yours or mine. Staying single allows us to remain independent, something you seem to enjoy.”

  Claudia sighed. “I suppose,” she agreed in a dreary tone.

  “Don’t you like being independent? I keep getting that impression.”

  “It has its perks. But having someone to come home to is nice.”

  “Being single, you’re free to make your own decisions,” he argued.

  “Two heads are better than one,” she retorted. Why am I coming up with that old saw?

  “But not everyone is suited being a cop’s spouse. We work long hours sometimes.”

  She shifted in her seat and looked at him in a troubled way. “I think I’ve adjusted pretty well to your work.”

  “You worry about me a lot,” he pointed out.

  “Yes, but I’ve seen how well-trained you are. You know how to handle yourself. You have good people as back-up. And you’re right, Briarwood is a pretty safe town. I guess I shouldn’t worry so much.”

  “Okay. All right.” He nodded with finality. “You’ve convinced me.” He started searching his jacket pocket. “Therefore . . . .”

  Pulling out a small box, he set it on the white tablecloth.

  Claudia stared at the rounded, velvet-covered object. “What’s . . . that?”

  Steve opened the box and all at once she found herself staring dumbfounded at a solitaire diamond ring, luminous and sparkling in the restaurant’s ceiling lights. She clasped her hands to her face as tears started in her eyes. Laughing and crying at the same time, she said, “Why were you arguing against . . . ? You tricked me!”

  “I hoped a little reverse psychology might help me plead my case,” he admitted. “Wrigley made me think of it. You know I fell in love with you the first time I met you, when you were wearing that outfit with cartoon cats all over it. I didn’t think I’d ever love again. But suddenly, there you were.”

  She blotted away tears with her napkin. Then she noticed that people at the tables nearby were watching them with eager interest.

  “Everyone’s waiting for your answer,” Steve said. “Time to make a decision.”

  Claudia drew in a deep breath before speaking. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding your hints. To tell you the truth, even though I do love you, the idea of marriage unsettles me. Even scares me a little. I’ve adjusted so well to being single, I’m not sure I can re-adjust to sharing my life with someone again.” She gazed into his troubled eyes. A new tear slid down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away. “But I don’t want to take the risk of losing you, so . . . yes, Steve, I’ll marry you.”

  His face broke into a huge smile. “We’ll figure out our future together.” He took the ring from the box and held out his hand. She obligingly placed her left hand in his, feeling breathless at the life-altering step she was taking. A
s he slipped the ring on her finger, people at nearby tables applauded.

  Claudia gazed at the ring gleaming on her hand. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured. And she found herself growing calm, now that she’d finally made a decision. She looked into Steve’s adoring eyes. “We do make a good team. Hope you won’t mind living with three cats.”

  “Wrigley’s already my buddy. He gave me the clue to how to persuade you.”

  Their waiter brought their desserts just then. “I see congratulations are in order,” he said, eyeing her ring. “I’ll be right back.” In a few minutes he returned with two new glasses of champagne. “On the house.”

  Steve raised his glass. “To my charming cat collector and wife-to-be.”

  “To the longsuffering detective who never gave up on me.”

  They clinked glasses and took a sip. Claudia hesitated digging into her key lime pie, still feeling choked up with emotion.

  “Claudia!”

  She turned to find Amy approaching their table. “Hi, Amy.”

  “I didn’t know you were here,” Amy said with enthusiasm. “Steve, how are you?”

  “Great,” he replied.

  “We sat on the other side of the restaurant,” Amy explained. “Larry’s getting the car. Word went from table to table that some guy proposed to his girlfriend here. So, you know me, I had to snoop around a little to see.”

  Claudia began laughing and held up her left hand, wiggling her fingers to make the solitaire sparkle.

  “Oh, my gosh, it’s you?!” Amy glanced back and forth at the two of them. “Way to go, Steve! You broke down her defenses. I’ve been rooting for you.”

  Steve stood and gave Amy a hug. “Thanks. I needed all the support I could get.”

  As Steve sat down again, Amy looked at Claudia, eyes aglow. “What fun it’ll be to plan your wedding!”

  As usual, Amy was moving too fast for Claudia’s comfort, but she rose and gave Amy a warm embrace. “I’m sure I’ll need some help.”

  “Well, gotta go,” Amy said, as Claudia took her seat again. “Congratulations, you guys!”

  When Amy was out of earshot, Claudia gazed at Steve with a happy sort of exasperation. “Heaven knows what kind of wedding we’re in for.”

  Steve reached across the table, took her hands in his and said, “Any style of wedding is fine with me, as long as you’re my bride and I’m your groom.”

  “Amen to that.”

  AUTHOR’S NOTE: I try to cook a vegetarian meal once a week. I mentioned this dish in my story because it’s a favorite of mine. Here’s the recipe for the “Moroccan Stew” Claudia and Steve ordered at The Old Mill.

  Moroccan Potato, Carrot, and Chickpea Stew

  Serves 4; 30 minutes or fewer

  2 Tbs. olive oil

  1 large russet potato (12 oz.) cut into ¾ inch cubes

  8 oz. peeled baby carrots (1 ¾ cups)

  2 Large shallots, diced (1 cup) (onion works well, too)

  ½ tsp. salt

  ½ tsp. ground black pepper

  1 15.5 oz. can low-sodium chickpeas, drained with liquid reserved, divided

  1/3 cup dark raisins

  1 ¼ tsp. ground cumin

  ½ tsp. pumpkin pie spice

  2 Tbs. lemon juice

  4 oz. fresh spinach leaves (2 cups)

  Heat oil in large skillet over medium-high heat. Add potato, carrots, shallots, salt and pepper; sauté 3 minutes.

  Add chickpea liquid, raisins, cumin, and pumpkin pie spice. Toss to blend, and bring to a simmer.

  Cover; simmer over medium-low heat 8 minutes. Mix in 1 cup chickpeas. Cover and simmer 2 to 4 minutes more, or until potato and carrots are just tender.

  Place remaining chickpeas on a plate and mash coarsely with a fork.

  Mix crushed chickpeas and lemon juice into stew.

  Mound spinach on top. Toss gently 1 to 2 minutes, or until spinach is reduced in volume, adding more water, salt and pepper if desired.

  Per 1 cup serving: 343 cal; 11 g protein; 8 g total fat (1 g sat fat); 60 g carb; 0 mg chol; 381 mg sodium; 8 g fiber; 15 g sugars (from Vegetarian Times Magazine)

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Lori Herter grew up in the suburbs of Chicago, graduated from the University of Illinois, Chicago Campus, and worked for several years at the Chicago Association of Commerce & Industry. She married her husband, Jerry, a CPA, and they moved to Southern California a few decades ago. They still live there and have been “mom and dad” to a number of cats over the years. Currently, they are down to one cat, Jazzy, a Himalayan who does not appreciate other felines in the household.

  Lori and Jerry have traveled extensively in the U.S., Canada, Europe, New Zealand and Australia, and Tahiti. Lori’s favorite destination of all is Ireland. A pet sitter whom Jazzy likes almost as much as us takes care of her while we are away.

  Lori has written romance novels published by Dell Candlelight Romances, Silhouette, and Harlequin. Some of these books are currently available as ebooks on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. She also wrote a four-book romantic vampire series, one of the first of the genre, published by Berkley with the titles OBSESSION, POSSESSION, CONFESSION, and ETERNITY. Her vampire novella “Cimarron Spirit” is included in the New York Times best-selling anthology, EDGE OF DARKNESS published by Berkley. Two individually published sequels by Lori, CIMARRON SECRETS and CIMARRON SEDUCTRESS, are available on Amazon.

  Lori’s website is www.loriherter.com