The Tail of the Secret Identity: A Beatrice Young Cozy Cat Mystery (Beatrice Young Cozy Cat Mysteries Book 3) by Alannah Rogers Page B
Authors: Alannah Rogers
Tags: mystery novels, cozy mysteries, Cozy Mystery Series, cat mystery, cozy cat mystery books, cozy mysteries women sleuths, mystery series books, cozy cat mysteries, cozy mysteries new releases
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looked at Zoe. “What should we call her? It feels strange to have a cat without a name. It’d be like addressing someone as ‘hey you’ all day long. Doesn’t seem polite.”
Zoe wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “I think Petunia’s a pretty name.”
Beatrice stared at her. “Petunia? What kind of old lady name is that?”
“Coming from a person named Beatrice…”
She sniffed. “I was named after Beatrix Potter. Well, my parents got the spelling wrong but their hearts were in the right place.”
Zoe’s eyes unexpectedly filled. “Petunia was the name of my kitten when I was 10. My mom said she went to a cat farm in the country but I’m pretty sure something bad happened to her…”
Beatrice swallowed. “Okay, okay, Petunia it is.”
Lucky leapt onto the sofa where Petunia lay and sat on the edge of the cushion, his round green eyes fixed on the pretty, purring cat.
Then there was a flash and Hamish jumped up next to him, knocking the much smaller cat off the sofa. Lucky landed on the floor with a thump—on his feet, but looking quite ruffled. He shook out his coat and stared bitterly up at Hamish.
Meanwhile, the large Maine Coon gazed at Petunia with an intensity that would have disconcerted any other cat, or human for that matter. But the newly-shorn Himalayan was oblivious to his attentions, as if she was perfectly used to being looked at.
An impending scuffle was thwarted when the front door bell rang, followed by the sound of familiar voices. It was the post-yoga crew, including the mayor’s wife Nancy and her best friends Joan and Janice. They came almost every morning after class.
“I completely forgot they’d be here.” Beatrice gathered up the clumps of fur and put them into the garbage. She threw Petunia an apologetic look. “Sorry sweetie, I’ve got to go, but you rest here until Dr. Violet comes with some nice eye drops for you.”
Petunia settled down on her towel and tucked her paws under her, blinking sleepily.
“Hamish. Lucky. Let’s give Petunia some privacy.”
The two cats sat riveted where they were, as if the female cat had turned them to stone. Beatrice sighed. “Men,” she muttered. “It’s like you’ve never seen a girl kitty before.” She scooped them up, one under each arm, and deposited them outside the office after closing the door. The promptly both sat pressed against it as if that might let them dissolve through and end up on the other side.
Beatrice sighed and ran back into the café.
3
The tourists had cleared out and there were only a few other customers remaining. Beatrice paused a moment at the cash to catch her breath. She looked out over her pride and joy with happiness. Even the worst day was a good day at the Cozy Cat Café.
She had spent the past thirty years shaping the place exactly as she wanted. Clusters of velvet antique chairs sat against the almost floor-to-ceiling windows and against the exposed brick walls. The walls themselves were lined with Beatrice’s personal collection of tattered mystery and romance paperbacks.
The showstopper was the long glass display case that flanked the far wall. White chocolate cranberry cookies nestled against gooey pecan buns, Nutella brownies, and towering fluffy carrot cakes garnished with coconut shavings. Old cheese graters, now converted into pendant lamps, cast a warm glow. The air was filled with the silky-sweet scent of cooking chocolate.
The yoga set was crowded around their favorite spot—a long, pine farmer’s table—wearing various iterations of skin-tight gray and black spandex and neon sneakers.
“Yoo-hoo!” said Nancy, waving a bejeweled hand. “Can we get some coffee please?”
Beatrice held back the desire to pour the coffee right over her head. Wasn’t it her luck that she’d be stuck with the mean girls from her high school forever ? She grabbed a square out of the display case and ambled over.
“What can I get you ladies? We just made some really
Zoe wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “I think Petunia’s a pretty name.”
Beatrice stared at her. “Petunia? What kind of old lady name is that?”
“Coming from a person named Beatrice…”
She sniffed. “I was named after Beatrix Potter. Well, my parents got the spelling wrong but their hearts were in the right place.”
Zoe’s eyes unexpectedly filled. “Petunia was the name of my kitten when I was 10. My mom said she went to a cat farm in the country but I’m pretty sure something bad happened to her…”
Beatrice swallowed. “Okay, okay, Petunia it is.”
Lucky leapt onto the sofa where Petunia lay and sat on the edge of the cushion, his round green eyes fixed on the pretty, purring cat.
Then there was a flash and Hamish jumped up next to him, knocking the much smaller cat off the sofa. Lucky landed on the floor with a thump—on his feet, but looking quite ruffled. He shook out his coat and stared bitterly up at Hamish.
Meanwhile, the large Maine Coon gazed at Petunia with an intensity that would have disconcerted any other cat, or human for that matter. But the newly-shorn Himalayan was oblivious to his attentions, as if she was perfectly used to being looked at.
An impending scuffle was thwarted when the front door bell rang, followed by the sound of familiar voices. It was the post-yoga crew, including the mayor’s wife Nancy and her best friends Joan and Janice. They came almost every morning after class.
“I completely forgot they’d be here.” Beatrice gathered up the clumps of fur and put them into the garbage. She threw Petunia an apologetic look. “Sorry sweetie, I’ve got to go, but you rest here until Dr. Violet comes with some nice eye drops for you.”
Petunia settled down on her towel and tucked her paws under her, blinking sleepily.
“Hamish. Lucky. Let’s give Petunia some privacy.”
The two cats sat riveted where they were, as if the female cat had turned them to stone. Beatrice sighed. “Men,” she muttered. “It’s like you’ve never seen a girl kitty before.” She scooped them up, one under each arm, and deposited them outside the office after closing the door. The promptly both sat pressed against it as if that might let them dissolve through and end up on the other side.
Beatrice sighed and ran back into the café.
3
The tourists had cleared out and there were only a few other customers remaining. Beatrice paused a moment at the cash to catch her breath. She looked out over her pride and joy with happiness. Even the worst day was a good day at the Cozy Cat Café.
She had spent the past thirty years shaping the place exactly as she wanted. Clusters of velvet antique chairs sat against the almost floor-to-ceiling windows and against the exposed brick walls. The walls themselves were lined with Beatrice’s personal collection of tattered mystery and romance paperbacks.
The showstopper was the long glass display case that flanked the far wall. White chocolate cranberry cookies nestled against gooey pecan buns, Nutella brownies, and towering fluffy carrot cakes garnished with coconut shavings. Old cheese graters, now converted into pendant lamps, cast a warm glow. The air was filled with the silky-sweet scent of cooking chocolate.
The yoga set was crowded around their favorite spot—a long, pine farmer’s table—wearing various iterations of skin-tight gray and black spandex and neon sneakers.
“Yoo-hoo!” said Nancy, waving a bejeweled hand. “Can we get some coffee please?”
Beatrice held back the desire to pour the coffee right over her head. Wasn’t it her luck that she’d be stuck with the mean girls from her high school forever ? She grabbed a square out of the display case and ambled over.
“What can I get you ladies? We just made some really
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