The Tail of the Secret Identity: A Beatrice Young Cozy Cat Mystery (Beatrice Young Cozy Cat Mysteries Book 3) by Alannah Rogers Page A

all-you-can-eat discount cookie buffet where all I had to do was go to the dollar store, buy some cheap cookies, and dump them into a trough.”
    Beatrice laughed and poured out the last of the coffee into a big mug. “You’re cranky today.”
    “Today?” Zoe took the steaming mug and buried her face in it. “Oh. Yum. Coffee.”
    She sighed. “Hunter and I had a fight last night. I want him to move into my apartment but he says it’s too expensive. He wants us to find another place but we went to look and the places he can afford are dumps, Bee. I like my apartment. I don’t want to move.”
    She stared despondently into the mug. Beatrice fought against her first instinct, which was to tell her pastry chef to dump this new boyfriend. However, she had promised to try to like him, for Zoe’s sake.
    “See if Hunter wants to pay less than half for your apartment. You’re already used to paying for all of it. And you make more than he does, so think of it as paying rent proportional to what you earn.”
    Zoe brightened. “That’s an amazing idea. A compromise! That’s exactly what I was looking for.”
    “Relationships are about compromise. Which is exactly why I’m not in one.” Beatrice stole the cup from Zoe and took a sip. “I already have two demanding cats, that’s all I can handle.”
    As if on cue, a frantic mewing came from outside, followed by a yowling Beatrice hadn’t heard before.
    “Oh my God, Mike ran over my cats,” she said, shoved the cup back in Zoe’s hands, and sprinted towards the door.

2
    But what greeted Beatrice wasn’t epic travesty. It was something quite different.
    There was another cat, one she had never seen before, sitting outside the café door, grooming itself.
    Now, there were quite a few cats that made the rounds in Ashbrook. They all knew that the café was the territory of Hamish and Lucky and accordingly, they stayed away.
    However, this cat clearly was unaware of this silent contract.
    She—and it looked like she was a she —was a pretty thing. She looked Himalayan to Beatrice’s eyes, given her tan and cream markings and ice blue eyes. Yet despite her apparent pedigree, she looked worse for the wear. Her coat was matted and her eyes looked crusted.
    Hamish and Lucky stood yowling in front of the door, tails raised, whiskers aquiver, in a way that was distinctly unlike them. Alternatively, they pressed themselves up against the glass as if they could forcibly push themselves through.
    The girl cat continued to lick her paw and clean her face impassively as if such frenzied attention was a regular event for her.
    Beatrice pushed past Hamish and Lucky and went out, scooping up the new cat. Yes, definitely a girl. She was soft, though had dreads that could have rivaled Bob Marley’s, and her eyes were full of gunk. She allowed Beatrice to pick her up and carry her into the café, as if she was used to having strangers pick her up. The two other cats bounded alongside like a herd of antelope.
    Depositing her in the back office on the sofa, Beatrice fished out her cat kit from the closet and then placed a call to the local vet—Violet, a trusted ally.
    “Violet? Hi. Now it’s not exactly that I have a new cat, because I said I wasn’t getting any more cats. But I just found this beauty on the street and I think she has a bit of an eye infection. Yes, I’m at the café. Can you stop by? Now that’s a dear. Okay thanks Vi. See you soon.”
    Zoe followed her into the office. “Oh my goodness, she’s gorgeous,” she said. “What a beautiful kitty.”
    “She’ll be even prettier after I de-Bob Marley her. Look at this coat!” Beatrice put an old towel under the cat, fished out her shears and began deftly chopping away at the mats. The cat blinked her eyes repeatedly, making Beatrice feel that she was protesting against this unasked-for haircut.
    “I’m sorry, dear,” Beatrice cooed. “But you’ll be ever so much more comfortable after I clip you.” She