Death and Daisies by Amanda Flower

Author:Amanda Flower
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crooked Lane Books

Chapter Nineteen

“It’s like he was born to ride,” Isla said from the front seat of my Astra. Ivanhoe had his back paws braced on her lap, and his two front paws were pressed up against the dashboard. After my unforgivable mistake of not feeding the cat the moment I awoke this morning, I had decided to try—try being the operative word—to make it up to the cat by taking him to work that day.

I glanced over at the cat from my spot on the driver’s side of the car. There was a slight smile on his round face. “Maybe he likes riding in cars. I really don’t know how often his old owner would take him out and about.”

Isla pet the cat on the back, and he didn’t react to her caress. He continued staring hard out the window. “You might want to promote him to shop security,” she said. “He is quite a vigilant cat.”

“I noticed,” I said. “I hope I won’t need shop security in the future.”

“You can never be too careful,” she said seriously.

I raised my eyebrows. It wasn’t often that Isla sounded so serious. “Are you worried about it?”

“Of course I’m worried. A man has died, and I know that you plan to poke your nose in the case. You shouldn’t, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. The chief inspector would agree with me.”

“I know he would.” I parked the car in the lot just on the other side of the troll bridge as I always did. “The minister is dead. I’m not worried about anyone else wanting to break inside my shop.”

“If you say so,” my sister muttered.

Isla opted to carry the cat to the shop. He rested against her shoulder as I fitted my key into the lock and opened the front door. She set him on the floor, and the feline began inspecting the showroom.

“I think he likes it here,” Isla said, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder.

“Looks like it.” I smiled and adjusted the cat’s bed, a tote bag of Ivanhoe’s food and toys, and my shoulder bag in my arms. I knew he would not be happy if he didn’t have his favorite bed to sleep in. It had been a present to him from Alastair Croft, his previous owner, whom he’d loved. Sometimes I thought he only tolerated me and really loved the old owner.

My smile widened as I watched Ivanhoe move around the room. I had always wanted to have a shop cat, but back in Tennessee, that had never been an option. The landlord of my old building there hadn’t allowed it. However, things were different in Scotland, and I could make my own rules because I’d bought the flower shop’s building outright, which meant Ivanhoe was being promoted to shop cat. Although I would take him home to Duncreigan every night. I didn’t think the cat would do well if left alone very long. He was a very social animal.

Ivanhoe pressed his flat Scottish Fold face into the flowers that were at his height.

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