Spies and Butterflies, Evelyn Chambers Cozy Mysteries: Book 7

Sample Chapter

CHAPTER ONE

The February afternoon sky hung gray and heavy over Brookton as Evelyn Chambers pushed open the glass door of the veterinary clinic. The overcast sky promised more winter weather, and the chilly air bit at her face as she stepped onto the pavement. She buttoned her wool coat, then adjusted her grip on Butterscotch’s carrier, thankful that the blind orange marmalade cat had remained quiet during their visit.

As Evelyn held the door, the clinic’s warm air escaped in a puff of heated breath. Roger Reed, a former vet himself and Evelyn’s beau, emerged with considerably more difficulty. His lanky frame managed two carriers, a large one containing Midnight, Evelyn’s black cat, and the smaller one holding Lucky and Chance, her gray tabbies, who had both lost legs in separate accidents but found comfort in each other’s company. The collar of Roger’s blue button-down shirt crumpled where it had caught against his scarf as he maneuvered through the doorway, his gray hair blowing with a cold breeze.

“Easy there, Midnight,” Roger murmured as the cat let out a loud yowl that echoed across the parking lot.

A woman walking a chubby mutt turned at the sound, and both she and her dog paused to stare. Midnight responded with a sharp hiss that made the dog jump backward and strain against its leash.

Roger tried to soothe the agitated cat through the carrier door. “It’s okay, boy. We’re going home.”

Midnight’s response was another angry wail followed by what sounded suspiciously like feline cursing.

Roger smiled at the woman. “He’s practicing for his opera debut. He has terrible stage fright, though.”

Midnight let out a particularly long meow that started low and rose to an indignant screech. The woman’s startled expression softened into a knowing smile.

“My Baxter here barks at the trash collectors every Tuesday morning, then spends the rest of the day protesting their schedule,” she said. “I think he’s lobbying for afternoon pickup.”

Evelyn laughed as the woman went inside the clinic. Then she fumbled with her key fob and unlocked her white Lexus. “Why don’t we put Midnight with Butterscotch in my car? He seems especially irritated today.”

“Good thinking,” Roger agreed, his breath like tiny clouds. “Maybe Butterscotch’s calm energy will help settle him down.”

They opened both back doors of her car and carefully positioned the carriers so the cats could see each other. Butterscotch offered a soft, questioning meow, while Midnight continued his vocal complaints about the entire veterinary experience.

“I’ll follow you with Lucky and Chance,” Roger said, nodding toward his silver Mercedes. “See you at your place.”

“Thank you,” Evelyn replied.

She slid into the Lexus, fired up the engine, and immediately turned up the heat. “I’ll get the car warmed as fast as I can,” she told the felines.

She glanced over her shoulder. Both cats were scrunched into tiny balls. They despised the cold, and she couldn’t blame them. The older she got, the less she enjoyed Virginia winters. Which had made her recent trip to the Caribbean pleasant, even if the circumstances had been . . . unusual. The memory of that warm sun made today’s ashen sky seem even more oppressive. As she pulled out of the parking lot, Butterscotch started into occasional soft meows, but Midnight maintained a steady stream of grumbling commentary that made her smile despite the noise.

Evelyn drove down the street and glanced in the rearview mirror. Roger’s Mercedes was behind her at a respectable distance. Her thoughts wandered as she drove through downtown Brookton. She usually scheduled individual vet visits for each cat to avoid exactly the kind of chaos she’d just experienced. However, Roger had suggested getting their yearly checkups all finished in one trip, and while she couldn’t disagree with the logic, it hadn’t been easy. She was grateful for his help managing all four cats, and the visit had gone well. All her felines were healthy. Midnight had provided the day’s drama by knocking over a jar of treats during his examination, sending the veterinary technician scrambling across the floor to collect scattered kibble while Evelyn apologized profusely. Meanwhile, Butterscotch had sat calmly through her entire exam, her blindness making no difference in her composed demeanor. Lucky and Chance had pressed against each other throughout their visit, their bond as strong as ever despite—or perhaps because of—their shared experiences with adversity.

As she steered the streets toward home, Evelyn’s mind wandered to how much her life had changed in the last few weeks. The trip to St. Thomas, in the U.S. Virgin Islands, had altered everything between her and Roger. They were officially a couple now, something that still filled her with warmth and wonder. At seventy-two, she hadn’t expected to find love again. But Roger’s presence in her life felt as natural now as the rhythm of seasons, as right as the purr of a well-loved cat. Their relationship had deepened from friendship into something that made even ordinary days, and ones with vet visits, feel special because they shared them.

Evelyn smiled at the memory of telling Roger about her part-time work with intelligence services. The revelation had come after a harrowing rescue on the west side of St. Thomas, and his reaction still surprised her. Instead of shock or disbelief, he’d been humorous, and had simply said he’d wondered about her, and all her short notice travel, and the times it seemed she’d been holding things back, like there had been conversations happening beneath their conversations. Their relationship had only grown stronger with her secret in the open. There hadn’t been another mission since St. Thomas, but there would be no need now for fake stories about her travel plans or hiding what had really transpired on her previous trips.

Midnight let out another dramatic meow from his carrier, as if sensing her wandering thoughts. “Yes, yes, we’re almost home,” she assured him and smiled at his apparent ability to read her mind. She sometimes wondered if Midnight would make a better spy than she did. He certainly had the stealth and cunning for it. At least when he chose to be quiet.

She turned onto her street and passed a black Chevrolet Tahoe parked at the corner. A quick check in her rearview mirror confirmed Roger’s Mercedes following behind her, and she pulled into her garage with a sense of relief. The familiar space welcomed her after the stress of managing four anxious cats at the vet.

Roger parked in her driveway and gathered Lucky and Chance’s carrier, then joined her in the garage. As the big door hummed to a close, shutting out the winter air, she collected Butterscotch.

“Let me get Midnight,” Roger offered as he opened the back door of the Lexus and pulled out the carrier with the still-protesting Midnight.

Evelyn unlocked the kitchen door, and Roger followed her inside, both of them glad to set down the carriers. After their adventure, the kitchen greeted them with its particular blend of order and comfort, all polished surfaces and lived-in corners, the cat food bowls lined up neatly on a mat adding to the sense of home. The new water fountain Roger had bought the previous week bubbled softly, a sound that never failed to soothe both cats and humans. Evelyn bent down and put a hand on the latch of Butterscotch’s carrier, prepared for the careful choreography of releasing four cats who had endured enough excitement for one day.

“Her first?” Evelyn suggested.

“Good strategy,” Roger agreed. “Get the easy one out of the way.”

She opened the carrier door. The blind marmalade walked out with dignity and paused only to get her bearings before she headed directly toward the water fountain. Her spatial memory of the kitchen remained perfect, and she crossed to the bubbling water without hesitation.

“Now Lucky and Chance,” Roger said as he crouched down and unlatched their carrier door.

The two tabbies immediately dashed out together, raced past the island, and disappeared from the kitchen as if the carriers might magically reclaim them. Their synchronized escape amused Evelyn. The two felines moved like a single unit despite their individual disabilities.

“And finally, the drama king,” Evelyn said.

She reached over to Midnight’s carrier, and once the door was open, the black cat stalked out with exaggerated indignation and sat down. He began to wash himself with the kind of focus that suggested he was erasing all memory of the veterinary experience.

“He’s pretending he wasn’t scared,” Evelyn observed as she watched Midnight’s performance.

“Very convincing,” Roger replied with a chuckle. “I almost believe he enjoyed the whole thing.”

“Midnight could teach the agency colleagues a thing or two about maintaining cover under pressure,” Evelyn said.

Roger cocked an eyebrow. “Agency colleagues.”

“They do like their play on words.”

Roger pointed to the black cat. “Notice how he’s strategically put himself where he can monitor all exits while appearing completely unconcerned.”

“Is that what he’s doing? I thought he was just being his usual dramatic self.” Evelyn studied Midnight. He paused mid-lick to give her an imperious stare, as if acknowledging her assessment of his tactical prowess. “I guess that’s his genius.”

Roger laughed as she took off her coat, and he handed her his. She hung them in the hall closet while Roger took the empty carriers to the basement for storage, his footsteps echoing briefly on the wooden steps as he went up and down the stairs. When he rejoined her in the kitchen, Evelyn was getting glasses from the cabinet. In the breakfast nook, Lucky and Chance had returned and were already engaged in a favorite pastime, taking turns ambushing each other from behind chair legs, their three-legged pounces more enthusiastic than graceful. Evelyn filled both glasses with filtered water from the refrigerator. As she did so, she had a brief thought of the simple pleasure of Roger and her cats being safe and healthy, but there was something else there. The past few weeks had been, today notwithstanding, relatively quiet. Would there be another mission? Part of her hoped so, even as another part relished this newfound domestic peace.

“You know,” Roger said, accepting the glass she handed him, “a year ago I would never have imagined spending my retirement years helping a spy wrangle four cats to the vet.”

“Part-time spy,” she corrected. “And I believe the technical term is ‘cat herding,’ which is actually harder than most of my assignments have been.”

“Speaking of which,” Roger said, his tone casual but his eyes curious, “how is the . . . consulting business these days?”

“Quiet,” she replied, appreciating his discretion even in her own kitchen. “And don’t worry, if something comes up, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Well, when it does, I’ll be here.” Roger reached out to squeeze her hand. “For cat-sitting or whatever else you need.”

“It was fun having you on the last trip.”

“I enjoyed it too.”

His support made her heart swell. After decades of marriage to Henry, where even he had kept secrets about his agency work from her, it felt liberating to share everything with Roger. She could finally be her whole self—retired nurse, cat lover, and occasional intelligence asset all wrapped into one.

She had just raised her glass to her lips when the doorbell rang. The sound sent all four cats scattering in different directions. Lucky and Chance vanished toward the laundry room, and Butterscotch retreated to the safety of a cushioned cat bed in the corner, while Midnight raced into the living room and leaped onto the back of the sofa where he could observe any potential threats while maintaining his dignity.

“I’m not expecting anyone,” Evelyn said as she set down her untouched glass of water.

“Maybe Margaret,” Roger said. Margaret Tuttle was Evelyn’s longtime neighbor and friend.

“She does have a habit of dropping by unexpectedly,” Evelyn called out as she headed to the front hallway. “She’s such a dear, if not a tad quirky.”

“That’s an understatement.”

Evelyn approached the front door and peered through the peephole. Then her stomach dropped as she recognized the figure standing on her porch.

I haven’t gotten anything done in two days because I can’t put this book down. I’ve read all of the books in order up until this last one. Trying to decide wheather to start the next book or empty the dishwasher! ~Reader review