Page 63 of Building What's Meant to Be

We cross the street and climb the stairs to my office.

“You’ll meet Aggie who owns the bookstore soon. Suffice it to say, she’s a character.”

“I was just thinking that I should start reading more.”

“You came to the right place.”

Upstairs, I slowly open the door and a pair of eyes shine then disappear when I flip on the light.

After closing the door behind us, I click my tongue and crouch. Twinky struts out from under my desk.

Tinsley looks around at the desk and bookshelves then gasps when she hones in on my office buddy. “You did steal the cat!”

“I rescued her. Stoll stole the cat. Scouts honor.” I lift my three fingers in a salute.

“Why would the mayor of your town do that?” Tinsley pets Twinky who purrs.

“Collateral. A trade.”

“For what?”

“Not what. Who. His wife. Sibling. Cousin.” I wince. Maybe. It only occurred to me as a possibility when I learned he met with the Kravens. It has to.

“Gatlin Stoll stole a cat to trade to get a relative back?”

“It’s a theory.”

“Why would he need to do that? Why would someone kidnap his wife, sibling, or cousin?”

“Still trying to figure that out,” I say, but wonder if it has to do with the Kravens.

Tinsley narrows her gaze. “I’ve gathered that the mayor doesn’t have many fans in Butterbury, but is that a reason to steal the cat that he stole?”

I shift from foot to foot, trying to figure out on the fly how much to tell Tinsley, considering the guys now know about my role in the case. As they say, the cat is out of the bag. “It’s complicated.”

“Are you some kind of small-town vigilante?”

“Only after hours.”

She checks the clock on the wall as Twinky rubs her leg.

“It’s almost eight pm. Does this count as after-hours?”

“Depends on the day.”

“Are you speaking in riddles?”

“No, but this case is one. What do you say, Twinky? Are you going to tell us your side of the story?” I catch myself, worried Tinsley heard me slip by using the wordcase. I clear my throat, reminding myself that I can’t get sloppy.

Tinsley pets the cat. “Aren’t you Miss Fancy Pretty Kitty—” She leans forward and squints, examining something. “Wait. You say her name is Twinky, but that isn’t what is embroidered on her collar.”

“That’s what Stoll called her.”

Tinsley loosens the clasp and holds it up to show me.

I just see sparkly thread at first, but then letters take shape.

Tinsley points. “Look, it saysCindythen there’s a red gem. Next is saysClawfollowed by a white gem. Last it saysFordwith a pink gem.”

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