“Her name was Luciana Torres. And the reason I can’t ask her about you is that she’s dead.”

  He slapped the phone down on the counter beside the business card.

  “So now that we’ve settled that, I want to know why you were the last person she called right before some lowlife ran her down and left her to die on the street.”

  Ruby opened her eyes wide, as shocked as if he’d smacked her with the phone. Luciana Torres was his aunt? And then another realization struck her.

  “Are—Are you saying Luciana was the one who left me a voicemail the other night?”

  She stared from him to the pink cell phone as the pieces began falling into place. She recalled the garbled phone message she’d listened to as she left Palm Beach, remembered how she’d dismissed it as being from an intoxicated bridal shower guest. But, instead, the caller had been Luciana. And now the question was, why had she called … and, perhaps as importantly, why had she seemed so out of it?

  As for the Tony Stark wannabe, he had to be the same nephew that the housekeeper had mentioned lived in the area. Ruby glanced at the embroidery on his shirt. Gold Crown Pawn, it read, with a cute logo of a crown atop three golden balls. Beneath it was the name Luis. Luciana hadn’t mentioned that her nephew worked at a pawn shop, not that it had any bearing on the situation.

  No doubt the police had turned over to him all the belongings of hers they’d recovered at the accident site … phone included. Obviously, the phone’s “recents” list was how he’d connected Luciana to the Botanica. And while his attitude could use some adjustment, she could understand his need to track his relative’s last moves.

  “Look, Luis,” she began, giving the name her best Spanish accent and emphasizing its second syllable. “I’m terribly sorry about your aunt. I only met her once, but I really liked her. As for why she called me—”

  “It’s LEW-is,” he broke in, giving the name the typical American pronunciation, accent on the first syllable. “And I’m not here for condolences. I want to know what sort of scam you were running on her.”

  “Scam? What in the heck are you talking about?” Conciliatory feelings vanishing, Ruby met his mistrustful scowl with a glare of her own. “Your aunt came in of her own free will and paid for a Tarot card reading. I gave her the reading, she thanked me, and then she left. The end.”

  “So why did she call you right before she was killed?”

  “I—I don’t know.” Ruby hesitated. Should she mention the real reason Luciana had come to the Botanica for a reading? But already she could hear Rosa’s voice in her mind emphasizing a major rule of reading Tarot cards … that what was said between reader and client was sacrosanct.

  Just like a priest or a counselor, she would intone. You cannot breach that confidence.

  Rosa hadn’t indicated if that vow of silence extended beyond the grave. But for now, she’d make that assumption. Besides, the hit-and-run was a random accident and certainly had no connection to the Givens family.

  “Look, Lew-is,” she repeated, “when Luciana called that night, I was in the middle of doing readings at a bridal shower on Palm Beach, so she went to voicemail. When I played the message on the way home, I figured the voice had to be one of the women from the party. I honestly didn’t know your aunt was the one who called me until you said so.”

  “Yeah, so what was the message?”

  “I haven’t deleted it yet. I can play it for you, if you want.”

  Though would he want to hear it? The brief message was undeniably unsettling, the more so because it held what might have been Luciana’s final words. Not something to spring on someone who was unprepared.

  But, obviously, he was steeled for it. At his sharp nod, she pulled the phone from her pocket and pulled up her voicemail history. Putting the phone on speaker, she pressed the “play” arrow.

  “Ruby … I need … ”

  The message cut off, and Ruby suppressed a shudder. Knowing now who it was, she could recognize the woman’s soft, accent-tinged voice, distorted as it sounded. She’d assumed before that the signal had simply dropped, ending the call. But hearing it again, it occurred to her that maybe Luciana had been distracted making the call … and maybe that had been the moment she’d stepped into the truck’s path.

  She glanced up at Luis. The scowl was gone, replaced by a shuttered expression that told her he was thinking the same thing … and that he didn’t want to be thinking it.

  A wave of compassion washed over her, and she blinked back sympathetic tears. Whatever opinion he might have about Tarot and the Botanica, it appeared that his love for his aunt was genuine. Why else was he trying to retrace her final movements?

  “Do you want to hear the recording again?” she asked.

  He shook his head, frowning. “No. But do me a favor. Don’t delete it yet, okay?”

  She hesitated once more. The idea of having someone’s last words permanently recorded on her cell phone voicemail was disturbing at best. But she’d oblige and keep the message for a while.

  At her nod, he went on. “Is it just me, or did Aunt Lu sound drunk or something?”

  “Definitely something. Do you have any idea what she was doing out on the street on foot?”

  “That’s the problem. She should have been at school—she was taking night classes—but I talked to her instructor. He said she skipped class that night.” His frown deepened. “Either way, she shouldn’t even have been walking at all. According to the cops, they interviewed her boss—whatshisname, that Givens guy—and he said she’d sprained her ankle pretty bad earlier that night. Supposedly, Jo—er, Givens’s girlfriend drove her to one of those doc-in-the-box places to get it looked at.”

  “You mean she took Luciana to an emergency clinic?” Ruby clarified.

  Luis nodded. “Yeah, whatever. The girlfriend claimed that my aunt didn’t want anyone to wait with her, so the girlfriend just dropped her off and then left. Problem is, the clinic doesn’t have any record of Aunt Lu checking in.”

  Now it was Ruby’s turn to frown. None of this had been in the online accounts of the incident.

  “This clinic,” she asked, “do you have any idea how far is it from where your aunt … from where the accident happened?”

  “It’s six, maybe seven blocks away. A pretty good haul for someone with a busted-up ankle to walk.”

  “That could explain why she sounded like she did. If she was in that much pain, it was probably hard for her to think straight, let alone talk. Maybe she was calling me for a ride or something? Though it would make more sense if she called you.”

  “Yeah, well, there’s more. A witness said they saw someone matching her description near the accident site about fifteen minutes earlier. They said she was staggering around, like she was drunk. My aunt maybe took a glass of wine on a holiday, but as far as I know she never got plastered a day in her life.”

  Which was maybe why she was embarrassed to call her nephew? “Look, I really am sorry about Luciana. But I’m not sure there’s anything more I can do. And I really need to get back to work … ”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  He retrieved the phone and business card, allowing himself the faintest of smiles. The movie star resemblance was even more apparent now, Ruby thought, pretending the sudden rush of heat that swept her was the A/C acting up again. Too bad the guy had attitude issues, because he was, to put it bluntly, a hunk.

  As if reading her mind on the attitude part, he added, “Look, I appreciate your help, and I’m sorry if I came on like a jerk at first. I believe you that you weren’t scamming her. It’s just that this whole thing has been a pretty big shock, and—what the hell? You—You stole my cat!”

  “I what?”

  She turned in the direction he was pointing. At some point while she and Luis had been talking, Brandon and Ophelia had wandered into the shop. Without Ruby noticing, the pair had jumped onto the end of the counter nearest the hallway door where they now lounged, Brandon’s stubby tail dangling off the edge. At the sound of the man’s voice, the cat’s ears flicked.

  “That’s him, with half a tail. He went missing a few days ago,” Luis exclaimed. To the cat, he added, “C’mon, I’m taking you back where you belong.”

  He’d started toward where the cats sprawled when a soft but business-like growl stopped him short. Ruby looked over the counter to see that Zuki had made her quiet way around and now stood between the man and the cats.

  Luis glanced from the pit bull to Ruby. “Seriously, you’re going to sic your dog on me?”

  “I’m not siccing her on anyone,” Ruby mildly replied. “She did that on her own. She must think you’re a threat, and that’s why she’s trying to keep you away from the cats.”

  “I don’t know about the other one, but the cat with the short tail is mine. He’s been living with me for a month. I rescued him off the streets, and I want him back.”

  Ruby suppressed a snort. “If he’s your cat, what’s his name?”

  “His name?” The innocuous question seemingly took him aback. “Uh, Blackie. Yeah, it’s Blackie.”

  “Right.” Not bothering this time to hide her skepticism, she said, “Why don’t you call ‘Blackie’ and see if he’ll come to you? Maybe then I’ll believe he’s your cat.”

  “Fine. Come here, Blackie. Good boy. Blackie?”

  Ruby folded her arms and waited. The cat gave Luis a quizzical look but remained where he sat. Obviously, Brandon wasn’t buying the man’s story either.

  Smirking a little, she said, “It might help if you call him by his real name … which I happen to know, because he’s the brother of my cat, Ophelia. If you’d had his chip scanned, you would have known it, too. Blackie? Please.”

  “Hey, don’t make fun of my cat’s name. And if he’s really your cat, why don’t you try calling him and see if he’ll come to you?”

  “Fine, let’s give it a try. Brandon, come here. Come on!”

  For an unsettling moment, she was afraid the cat was going to ignore her, too. And then, to her relief, Brandon rose from where he lay on the counter and quickly slinked over to her.

  Told ya, was Ruby’s reflexive thought as she stroked the cat’s sleek fur. Aloud, she merely said, “I guess that settles that.”

  “Not so fast. Look, I have pictures.”

  He whipped out his own cell phone this time—which did not have a pink rhinestoned case—and began swiping through photos. “Here he is eating. And here he is, sleeping on the hood of my truck. And here’s one in the shop where he’s riding on one of those robot vacuums someone pawned.”

  One at a time, he showed the pictures to Ruby, who felt her triumph slowly slipping away. No mistaking the cat in the photo for any feline but Brandon. In addition to his trademark bobbed tail, he had the same couple of white whiskers mixed in with the black, just as Brandon did. The fact that Luis was a relative of Luciana’s might have had some bearing as to why the cat had gravitated to him while on the run.

  “Believe me now?” Luis demanded, stowing away his phone again.

  Ruby slowly nodded. “I—I don’t have a choice. But, look, while Brandon—okay, Blackie—has apparently been staying at your place, he ran away and ended up here with his sister. It’s like he knew to come here. According to the animal shelter, these two have been together since birth, except for when they got separated when someone took them from their old home and dumped them on the street. How can you break them up again?”

  “Easy. Come here, gato.”

  To Ruby’s shock, Brandon wriggled out from under her hands as she was petting him and butted his furry head against Luis’s arm.

  Ophelia stared in shock from her spot safely out of anyone’s reach. “Brandon, what are you doing?” she yowled. “Why did you go to the PAWN human?”

  “He called me,” her brother replied. “I told you, Gato is his name for me.”

  “And I told you that name means ‘cat’ in Spanish,” Zuki reminded him from her position on the floor, where she was still keeping an eye on Luis.

  Brandon flicked his whiskers. “But that’s what he calls me. And it would have been rude to ignore him.”

  “Who cares about rude?” Ophelia yowled. “Did you hear? He wants to take you away from us.”

  Brandon shot her a steady look. “I don’t want to leave. But didn’t you hear what he said? He’s related to Luciana. And I think he might know something about what happened to her. I’m going to go with him and play detective, just like in those shows on that screen on the wall that the old woman used to watch. I’m going to look for clues.”

  Before Ophelia could reply—things had not gone well when they tried that detective cat thing with Luciana!—Luis abruptly scooped Brandon up in his arms.

  “Thanks for looking after Blackie for me,” he told Ruby, “but I’d better take him home now.” Glancing down at Zuki, he added, “Can you call your dog off?”

  “Fine,” Ruby muttered, nervously adjusting her glasses. “Zuki, back off. Let the man pass.”

  “Don’t do it, Zuki!” Ophelia meowed.

  The pit bull took a step back, glancing from Ruby to Brandon and back to Ruby again. To Ophelia, she said, “I—I have to listen to my human. She said to let Luis go, so I have to do it.”

  “It’s okay, Zuki. I’ll be fine. Do what Ruby tells you,” Brandon meowed back.

  To Ophelia, he said, “Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

  “A plan?” She gave her tail an angry snap while Zuki backed out of the aisle. “For kibble’s sake, what are you talking about?”

  “Trust me. Give me two days, so Luis doesn’t get suspicious. You and Zuki can come back for me the day after tomorrow, at midnight. Meet me outside of PAWN and I’ll come back with you. And maybe I’ll even have evidences for Ruby to give to the police.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am. And there’s something I didn’t tell you,” he called over Luis’s shoulder as he and the human headed toward the front door. “Remember what Philomena said? Look at the picture painted on his arm.”

  While Ophelia leaped off the counter and hurried after them, Brandon rubbed his head against the human’s shirtsleeve, as if simply snuggling up to him. But she saw that the gesture actually pushed up the shirt’s fabric, which had been partially hiding what the humans called a tattoo.

  At first glance, Ophelia couldn’t quite tell what the picture on his arm was, since Brandon’s ears were partially in the way. Then he moved his head to one side, and she saw it … a brightly inked picture of a sharp-toothed, grinning rat.

  Eighteen

  “Where is he? Where’s Brandon?” Ophelia hissed. “It’s midnight, and we’re here, just like he said.”

  She and Zuki were crouched in the shadows behind PAWN, in the open room where the Luis human parked his picking up truck. The truck was there, but the front of it was warm—warm enough for a feline to sleep on—and it was making little tinking noises. Which meant, she knew, that even though the truck was parked, it had been driving not that long ago.

  Had Brandon gone driving in it, and been lost somewhere?

  The bright red letters in the front window were still lit, along with the three golden balls, but there was a smaller sign with blue letters that read CLOSED. Ophelia knew that word meant all the humans were supposed to be gone. Unless Luis lived over the shop, just like Ruby lived over the Botanica.

  She shuddered a little as she thought of Luis … the human with the rat painted on his arm. He had been loud and angry when he first came into the Botanica, but she didn’t think he was a bad human. Not like the son.

  That was, not until she’d seen the picture on his arm.

  It had been a frightening moment, indeed. Here, Philomena the koi had warned them about a human rat, and yet Brandon had volunteered to go off with him! She’d been so stunned at his decision that, before she could demand more answers, he and Luis had been out the Botanica door.

  And it had been all Zuki could do to make her wait like Brandon had wanted, instead of rushing around like one of the roosters and going after him. Ruby had been distraught, too, muttering to her and Zuki about making a mistake and even calling her friend JoJo to ask what she thought.

  But the two days that Brandon demanded for his plan had finally passed. Once Ruby had gone to sleep, Ophelia and Zuki had sneaked out of the courtyard like last time. With no interference from any street dogs, they’d come to PAWN on schedule, only to find no sign of her brother.

  Now the pit bull raised her blocky head and began sniffing, then flicked her ears about.

  “The Luis human was here a little while ago,” she confirmed. “Brandon was, too, but it’s been a while. Maybe a few hours? But I hear something in the building moving around that sounds more feline than human.

  Sure enough, a moment later, Ophelia heard the faintest whisper of paws on concrete coming from the other side of the truck. Almost immediately, she glimpsed green eyes glowing in the shadows right before a sleek black feline with a stubby tail popped out of the darkness.

  “Brandon!” she softly yowled as she rushed over to her brother. Making figure eights around him and butting her head against his, she asked, “Are you all right? Did the rat human do anything to you?”

  “I’m fine,” Brandon purred. “Luis didn’t do anything bad to me. But I did lots of investigating, just like on television. Come on, I’ll tell you about it.”

  The trio settled in a spot near the open room’s main entrance, but far back enough so they couldn’t be seen. After making sure that no humans were lurking about, Brandon told them about his adventures.

  “I found a clever way to listen to what Luis says to his friends,” Brandon began. “He thinks its funny when I sit on that flat round thing that drives around the floor sucking up dirt—”

  “A robot vacuum,” Zuki helpfully supplied. “I saw that on television.”

 

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