Page 34 of Hell's Kitten

“About what?” Leah snaps.

“Hygiene, of course,” Mrs. Durham says with a chuckle, flicking her fingers to encompass the room. “Is this an eatery or a petting zoo? It’s very concerning.”

“As we said before,” Leah counters hotly, “we have all the correct licensing and pass regular inspections.”

Mrs. Durham sniffs and looks back at me. “I’m sure that’s all fine, but Mr. Humphrey is here nonetheless to take photographs, food samples, and copies of your records. Then the board of inspectors will decide.”

“On what?” I ask.

Fear is bubbling inside me, but it’s being overshadowed by anger. Let this woman just try and come for me. My establishment is spotless, but more importantly, it’s essential for hundreds of cats getting adopted all over the local area.

“Whether it’s safe for you to keep serving customers,” Mrs. Durham says, fluttering her eyelashes. “We have to make sure everything’s above board. There are children here, after all.” She turns and beams at the first little girl she lays her eyes on. “We don’t want you getting sick, now do we, dear?”

The child’s lip wobbles. There’s a gray cat currently sitting at the table with her and her parents. The girl throws her arms around the unsuspecting feline and hugs him to her chest. “Don’t hurt Mr. Truffles!” she cries before bursting into tears.

Mrs. Durham blinks and steps back in shock.

“There’s nothing wrong with Toe Beans,” a young man in a Panthers letter jacket says. He’s sitting with a pretty girl who nods emphatically as he crosses his arms and glares at the blonde woman. “What are you causing trouble for?”

“I have to agree,” another man from the line says with a posh English accent. “This is highly unnecessary.” I recognize him because he’s one of those environmental types who always bring their own reusable cup in. I wish more people did that. In fact, I even knock off a quarter for those that do to try and encourage it.

Mrs. Durham is still smiling, but her lips are pinched as she turns back to us. “Well. Let’s get on with it, shall we? I assume we are free to go wherever we need to, Mr. Decker.”

I grunt at her. “Office is locked.”

“Perhaps you can find the keys so we can access it, then. Hmm?”

I grunt again. Fine. But if I’m letting them in to snoop over my files, I’m watching every single thing they do.

“Goodness me, look at the time,” the dark-haired woman says, rising to her feet like a specter.

I’d forgotten she was watching. Mrs. Durham ignores her, but Leah’s head immediately snaps back to look at her, biting her lip like she’s nervous. I’m not sure what that’s about, but I’m more interested as the pale woman flips a very small doll between her spindly fingers, deftly dropping it into Mrs. Durham’s open purse without the other woman noticing.

Before I can be sure I saw what I really saw, the mysterious woman looks at me again. “When you need me, come find me. I’ll be waiting.” Her gaze shifts to Leah, who squirms at her attention. “Blessed be.”

She sweeps outside into the sunshine like a storm cloud carried on a zephyr.

Mrs. Durham huffs, all pretenses of her smile gone. “Right, well, if everyone is quite done, I think we should begin our work. Mr. Humphrey?”

“Certainly, madame,” he says sleazily.

I don’t relish them poking about my beloved café, but there doesn’t seem to be much I can do to stop them. Sheriff Chancey throws her hands up as the other two move to the back of the café. “It’s out of my hands,” she hisses, clearly mad as a snake. “I think it’s best just to let them get on with it.”

“What the hell is going on?” Leah demands in a low voice as the café starts to return to normal. People talk among themselves. My other staff begin serving waiting customers. The little girl lets go of Mr. Truffles, and he immediately runs to go hide atop one of the cat trees.

Chancey shakes her head and leans on the counter. “I don’t know but I also don’t think it’s anything good. We had reports that stolen cars were being moved through Horowitz’s garage and that the Butterflies nail salon was employing illegal immigrants. It all turned out to be horseshit, but…”

“But all those businesses are run by members of the Cardinals,” I say, my heart dropping. “Or at least employ them. First O’Toole’s, now this?”

Chancey sighs, giving me a pitying look. “You heard there were rumors that Mayor Durham was being investigated for embezzlement, right?”

Leah and I share a glance. “No,” I say.

“Exactly,” Chancey replies. “No one has. Because he’s gone on this rampage to clean up a town with very little crime in an attempt to distract everyone from what’s really going on and keep their attention away from his opponent, Mr. Sanchez. He’s giving voters a villain who he can conveniently defeat in the run up to the election.”

“My family?” I ask.

“A violent biker gang,” she counters. “People don’t care about the truth. They’re happy to lean into old stereotypes, especially when respectable ladies start getting hysterical about children’s safety. I tell you—they’ll be coming for the school’s Dungeons & Dragons club next.”

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