Free Copycat Killing: A Magical Cats Mystery by Sofie Kelly Page B

especially now that he was dead.
    “I need to put these in Maggie’s studio,” I said, picking up the brown paper and bubble wrap again.
    Ruby had been staring off into space, but she looked at me when I spoke. “Yeah, okay,” she said. “There’s something I need to check out on the computer, anyway.” She indicated her own open studio door. “Tell Maggie I’m here if she needs anything.”
    “I will,” I said.
    Mags had put the two boxes on her big worktable in the center of the room. She was just taking the last figure from a carved, wooden chess set out of the smaller of the two cartons.
    I set the paper and bubble wrap on the end of the table.
    “Thanks,” she said. “I’ll just go get the other couple of boxes.”
    While Maggie went downstairs I put some water in her kettle and plugged it in. I waffled for a moment between the box of peppermint tea bags and the canister of dark chocolate cocoa mix. The chocolate won.
    “Are you making tea?” Maggie asked when she came back in with the last three cartons.
    “I was going to make hot chocolate,” I said. “But I can make tea if that’s what you’d like.”
    She set the boxes on the table and rolled her head slowly from one side to the other. “No. I want chocolate,” she said. “Lots and lots of chocolate.” She stopped in mid-neck roll. “Look in there, on the bottom at the back.” She pointed to the old pie safe where she kept the mugs and the tea and the electric kettle. “I think I have some marshmallows.”
    The marshmallows were in a little snap-top plastic container. I could smell vanilla when I popped the lid. “Hey, did you buy these at the market?” I asked.
    She had one arm behind her head, stretching, pulling down gently with her other hand. Maggie was very flexible. “Dina made them,” she said.
    “Dina?” I said. The water was boiling. I filled both cups. “The Jam Lady?”
    “Uh huh.”
    I’d been a little homesick and a lot heartsick when I’d arrived in Mayville Heights just over a year ago. I’d eaten a lot of toast smothered in The Jam Lady’s strawberry rhubarb preserves in those first few lonely weeks. And a fair number of brownies too. If it weren’t for all the walking I’d have ended up looking like the Pillsbury Doughboy. And I probably wouldn’t have Hercules and Owen either.
    Maggie emptied the boxes and when the water boiledI made the hot chocolate and added marshmallows to both cups. I gave one to Maggie. She took a long sip and then smiled at me over the mug. “Ummm, that’s good. Thank you.”
    I took a drink from my own cup. The mix of dark chocolate and vanilla tasted as good as it smelled.
    Maggie pulled her hand over her hair again. “I can’t believe Jaeger’s dead,” she said, her expression troubled.
    “It’s not your fault.”
    “I know,” she said, but there was something in her voice that told me she wasn’t completely convinced. I looked at her, without saying anything else, until she lifted her head and met my gaze.
    “What?”
    “Jaeger’s not dead because he wanted to bring in a corporate sponsor for the co-op and you didn’t. It’s not your fault he was in the basement. It’s not your fault the stairs were wet.”
    “I know. I do. I just keep thinking if we hadn’t had the meeting today maybe he wouldn’t have gone back down to the basement.”
    “Then you would have had it another day. And Jaeger could still have been down in the basement this morning. Or this afternoon, or next Tuesday.”
    I leaned against the worktable to take the weight off my ankle “It was an accident, Mags. An awful, stupid accident.”
    “Why are you always so sensible and logical?” she said, the beginnings of a smile pulling at her mouth.
    I took another drink of my hot chocolate. “Probably because my mom and dad are masters of drama.” I set the cup down. “Right before I came here my father broke his ankle. Can you guess what he was doing?”
    “Probably not taking out the