Susannah stirred her cup of tea. She and Phillip sat outside Dottie’s Café, where a warm breeze played at Susannah’s hair. She smiled. Spring was her favorite season, mostly because of the promise of summer ahead. So many plans were made in April, plans abounding in fun and sunshine. Then May arrived, next June, after it July, and none of the plans came to fruition. Thinking more on the subject, Susannah decided that summer almost depressed her for that very reason. Yes, spring was best because of the things it promised. However, this spring season was just as depressing.
“You haven’t touched your food,” Phillip said, pointing at Susannah’s full plate with his fork.
Susannah sighed. “I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind, I suppose.”
“The thefts, sandbag, dead cat, or Maria’s accusations?”
At Phillip’s unpleasant list of recent opera incidents, Susannah’s fingers twitched. Her spoon slid out of her hand and clattered in her cup, tea spilling out on the table. Other diners glared at the couple. Susannah blushed at the several pairs of eyes staring at her and Phillip. When the spectators looked away, Susannah leaned closer to Phillip and whispered, “Of course all those things are bothering me. Why are they happening?”
“They’re coincidences, Susannah,” Phillip said. He waved his fork in the air. “Cats die. Items get stolen. People become sick.”
“And sandbags cut their own ropes?”
Phillip jabbed a large piece of lettuce, his lips forming a hard line under his mustache. “That one, I’ll admit, is beyond me.”
“Not to mention my cat. She never runs away from my apartment. And to find her at the opera house?” Susannah shivered despite the sun warming her skin. “I can’t figure it out.”
“Cats are strange creatures. That of all things would be the least of my concerns,” Phillip said, waving his fork in the air again, resulting in the lettuce flying off the prongs and onto the sidewalk. Phillip stared at the piece of lettuce as though it had been his whole meal on the ground.
Susannah grinned. “That’s what you deserve for telling me the last thing I should worry about is my cat.”
Phillip laughed. “I suppose you’re right.”
“You can add attempted murder to your list,” a snarky voice snapped.
Startled, Phillip and Susannah looked at where the voice had come from. Propped on her elbows against the iron fence separating Dottie’s Café from the sidewalk, Maria stood, staring down her dainty nose at the couple, a hat propped on the side of her head. Long brown strands of her hair drifted in the breeze and settled on Susannah’s salad.
“Miss Kingston, what are you talking about?” Phillip asked, sounding exasperated rather than concerned.
“Attempted murder!” Maria hissed. “My murder! I found suspicious residue in my drinking glasses at my apartment. Someone is trying to kill me!” Maria straightened herself, her eyes wide and her nostrils flaring.
“I’m sure you’re imagining things,” Phillip said, staring at Susannah to gauge her reaction.
“Besides, what does that have to do with the opera?” Susannah asked, using two fingers to pluck Maria’s stray hair out of her food.
“Perhaps a chorus girl is trying to kill me so she can be the new prima donna!” Maria growled, glaring at Susannah.
“I’d never!” Susannah exclaimed.
“You’re being ridiculous, Maria,” Phillip said, standing, his chair scraping the sidewalk. Maria blinked. The diners returned their gazes to the three people arguing at the fence. “First you suggest someone from the opera is trying to murder you. Then you accuse Susannah of being the culprit. Tell me, have any of us been to your home? The answer to that is a simple no. Many of us don’t even know where you live. And to think your friends and acquaintances, your coworkers, would devise such a heinous scheme! I assure you, there are easier ways of obtaining roles in the Shelley Opera House, or any theater for that matter, than killing a prima donna. Please leave us to enjoy what’s left of our lunch!” Phillip sat down, waving Maria away with his hand. He glared at the diners, and once more they averted their gazes.
Maria’s gaze darted from Phillip to Susannah, then back again. Cursing under her breath, Maria stomped away, her heels clicking an angry rhythm against the sidewalk.
Susannah watched Maria for a few seconds, then turned to face Phillip. “She’s extremely anxious. She’s hated me since I started singing at the opera house.”
“She’s silly, that’s what she is. And neurotic. Who thinks a chorus girl would have the means or desire to kill a prima donna?” Phillip resumed poking at his salad, this time searching for stray brown hairs.
“Maria would.” Susannah smiled, although it didn’t reach her eyes. “Except what you said isn’t true.”
Phillip raised an eyebrow, stopping his search for a moment.
“Maria doesn’t have friends at the Shelley Opera House.”
Phillip and Susannah giggled.
“Oh, we’re wicked!” Susannah said, leaning back in her chair. She picked up her spoon and resumed stirring her tea. “Really, we shouldn’t laugh.”
“We either laugh or cry, and I do not intend to weep. Besides, Maria is dreaming things up. She has an overactive imagination,” Phillip said after they both calmed down. “And I’m sure we are getting upset over nothing. There’s nothing strange happening at the theater; it’s simply accidents and coincidences. A streak of bad luck.”
“The ballet girls believe in some ghost cat,” Susannah said without considering her words. She stopped stirring her tea. She hadn’t planned on telling Phillip about the Phantom Cat, but given the circumstances, she felt obligated in some strange way to mention it.
Phillip leaned back, giving Susannah a quizzical look. “A ghost cat?”
Susannah shrugged. “They claim they’ve seen it on the rafters and in dark corners. When a small item goes missing, they blame the Phantom Cat. It’s silly, I guess.”
Phillip stared at Susannah’s trembling arms. “You don’t seem to think it’s just a silly little ghost story,” he commented.
Covering her arms with her hands, Susannah sighed. “I don’t know what to think. Something strange is going on, but whether it’s a ghost cat or a person intent on causing harm, I don’t know.”
“I’m sure a ghost cat is not to blame.” Phillip grabbed Susannah’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Why don’t we stop this talk of ghosts and such? It’s too nice a day to spend fretting over gruesome things not in our control.”
Susannah nodded. “Okay.”
She ate her salad and drank her tea, feeling much better with Phillip sitting across from her.