Page 17 of Autumn at the Cat Cafe

He nodded his thanks and headed to the counter. When he set down the basket and pulled out his wallet, he saw a small sign on the wall behind the register that said Established in 1899.

“Ready to check out?” The clerk moved to the cash register.

Leo nodded, looking at the clerk’s name tag. Sherman. “This store has been around a long time,” he said.

Sherman nodded. “Oh yeah. My great-great-great, uh, great-grandpa was the first proprietor. That might be too many greats. I can never keep track. What we sell here has changed, but the building is mostly the same as it was back then.”

Leo looked around again. He was so focused on his shopping that he hadn’t paid much attention to his surroundings. But now that he was seeing them, he got the sense of being back in time—wood-planked walls, old pictures and other antique memorabilia and signs hanging up. The counter was vintage, or at least a replica. The whole mood in the store was unhurried. Or maybe that was his own feeling, now that he wasn’t in a rush anymore. It was all a contrast to the modern, teeming shopping districts he was used to.

Sherman rang up Leo’s items and handed the plastic bags to him. “Thank you, sir.”

“Call me Leo.” The friendliness was catching. He’d have to curb that. He wasn’t here to make friends.

“Have a good day, Leo.”

“You too.”

He walked back to the apartment and past Pawsitive Vibes again. Three cats, different from the first two, were lounging in the window. From his quick glance he saw customers sitting at tables with coffee mugs in front of them, but no sign of Via. The Pawsitive Vibes sign above the café was vibrant pink, teal, and yellow, with the bottom of a cat’s paw prominently displayed on one side and a coffee cup on the other. Very clever. Very Via.

Then he turned to Second Chapter. The facade was old and weathered, like the shop inside and the apartment upstairs. There were a few autumn decorations—a rustic wreath on the door, fake leafy garland across the top of the window, and three pumpkins on the ground by the entrance. Nice, but the dusty window and dark interior was a stark contrast to Via’s bright and shiny business. The amount of work ahead of him was daunting. Even without the stipulations, he would have had to get the shop and apartmentsale ready. Although he would have just paid someone to do that. Now it was literally his responsibility.

But he never backed down from a challenge. He thrived on them. Forget 80 percent. He was going to score 100 on that quiz. And once Second Chapter was legally his, he would sell the building and be done with Pecan Corner. Despite the friendliness and the autumn appeal, he already felt like the proverbial fish out of water. He didn’t belong here... and he couldn’t wait to leave.

Leo went to Earl’s apartment, opened the door, and walked inside. His second time seeing the place wasn’t as shocking as the first when he had left Via’s apartment earlier this morning. But it was as overwhelming as Second Chapter. Both places were cluttered and in disarray, and a layer of dust coated everything, as if nothing had been touched since Earl’s death in January. How did the man live like this, much less run a business?

Carrying the bags of groceries, Leo wound his way through the cluttered living room to a small kitchen. He could see the apartment layout was the mirror image of Via’s. A world of difference in decor and disarrangement, however. He carefully opened the fridge, dreading that he’d find a science experiment or seven in there. Surprisingly, it was empty and clean. He started putting everything away when he heard the sound of a telephone ringing.

He stilled as it rang again. It didn’t sound like a cell phone, but if it was, there was no way he could find it in the chaos. Then he saw the landline on top of a stack of old phone books on an old two-drawer end table. Should he answer it? He didn’t see an answering machine, and he had no idea if his uncle had email. On the fourth ring he picked up the yellowed phone handle from its cradle. “Hello?”

“Hey, Earl. Perry Percival here. Been a while since we talked. How ya’ been?”

“Sorry,” Leo said. “I’m not Earl.”

“You sound just like him.”

He sounded like a seventy-three-year-old man? Yikes. “I’m his nephew. Way younger nephew,” he couldn’t resist adding.

“Oh, my bad. Now that you’re talking, I can tell you’re not him. Mind leaving him a message for me?”

Leo knew he shouldn’t judge one of Earl’s friends after only exchanging a few words, but the man’s fast speech and annoying cadence made him sound like an overly familiar car salesman. “He passed away in January.”

“He did? That’s a shocker. Who’s running Second Chapter?”

“I am.”

“Fantastic.”

What kind of friend was this? “Mr.—”

“Percival. Perry Percival. Are ya interested in selling the store? Because I’m ready to buy.”

Leo almost dropped the phone. A buyer just falling into his lap? “I’m listening,” he said, trying to hide his eagerness. He didn’t care who Perry Percival was as long as the offer was right.

But it wasn’t. It was so wrong it was outrageous. Leo’s answer was simple. “No.”

“No?” Perry had the nerve to sound shocked.

“Just what I said. No.”