Chapter 3

I pointed to the photo of Lady Sapphire taped to the counter as I handed over a General Delivery package to my umpteenth customer of the day. "This cat is missing. Have you seen her?"

"Oh no! That's Elvira Scarborough's cat, Lady. She must be so upset!" Mrs. Fukagawa, an octogenarian and honorary member of the Red Hat Society, wore her scarlet sun hat today. She adjusted the reading specs dangling from a beaded chain that she'd slid on to inspect both the photo and her package. "What happened to her?"

"Mrs. Scarborough thinks she was stolen. She disappeared from the fenced garden," I said.

"Well, that's strange. Lady's the fourth missing cat I've heard about lately."

My stomach already had a knot in it. Though Mrs. Fukagawa was the first to know Mrs. Scarborough and her cat personally, she wasn't the first to tell me about the rash of missing felines in our area.

My mind flew once more to Tiki. I'd sneaked in a text to Aunt Fae to see if my missing pet had shown back up at home. She had not. "Were the cats you heard about stolen, or did they run away?"

"A bit of both." Mrs. Fukagawa drew her package closer. "Is there anything else for me?"

A line was forming behind Mrs. Fukagawa; customers were eager to get their packages. I pretended she was asking if she could help with the investigation and not about more mail. "As a matter of fact, there is." I grabbed a pen and lined tablet and thrust them at Mrs. Fukagawa. "Anything you can remember about the missing pets might help us find Lady. Maybe there's a reason why so many cats are gone at once." I sweetened the request by grabbing one of the buckeyes in its little ruffled cup off the platter and plunking it down on top of the lined tablet. "A little thank-you gift for your help."

Mrs. Fukagawa grinned. She was missing a side molar but somehow it made her smile, bracketed in soft velvety wrinkles, even more charming. "Why, thank you. I'll step aside and work on that."

She took the tablet and the treat, and my next customer stepped into her place. I pointed to Lady's photo after I fetched the woman's mail. "Have you seen this missing cat?"

And thus it went for several more customers.

Eventually Mrs. Fukagawa elbowed her way up to the front of the line. She slid the tablet, now covered in crabbed writing, over to me. "Another of those tasty peanut butter goodies, please."

"Happy to oblige." I passed her the buckeye. "I hope you put your number on there in case I need to follow up with anything."

"I sure did." She tapped the pad. "Let me know how it goes."

By lunchtime I was frazzled and, judging by the slight shine on Pua's perfect little nose, so was she—but I took my break first. I planned to check in with Mr. K and review Mrs. Fukagawa's notes. "See you at one p.m.," I told her. "I'll be out in the shack."

Pua nodded, already engaged with the next customer—and as I glanced into the sorting area, I was pleased to see the mountain of packages was shrinking.

The shack behind the post office was assigned housing for the postmaster. That was my main job, so the space was still available to me to use. After Aunt Fae and I moved to the unoccupied model home in New Ohia, I had checked with my boss Mr. Hanoi in Kahului if it would be okay to use it as an office from which to operate our side business instead of living in the humble quarters. He was agreeable.

I glanced around the perimeter of the shack with affection.

Keone and I had transplanted the coconut palm that had taken root in the gutter to a more appropriate spot beside the building, and the baby tree had already thrown out a new frond in gratitude. The ginger on one side was healthy and the hibiscus bush beside the little porch was blooming, its red blossoms bright against the green foliage.

"A new kind of Christmas red and green," I murmured, snapping a picture with my phone. I was collecting Maui images to send to my friends and former Secret Service colleagues in a holiday e-card along with a general update about my status as a full-time resident of Ohia.

I'd put a lot into my career with the Secret Service; never anticipating the turn my life would take when I ended up on temporary assignment as postmaster in Ohia after a handsy Congressman I'd rejected had disrupted my plans with his vendetta.

So far, I didn't regret the difficult decision to trade the drafty halls of politics in Washington, DC for a simpler life across the street from a beach on Maui.

I grabbed the broom leaning in a corner of the porch and gave the simple structure a brisk sweep, including the large coral stone beach rock that made up the front step.

I couldn't sweep it without remembering the initial "gift" Tiki had brought me the first day I moved in—the withered hand of the woman who'd had the postmaster job before me. That investigation had led to the next, and the next—and now I happily used the broom to whisk any dust and cobwebs off the simple plaque Mr. K had attached to the door that read K K Investigations.

Done with my domestic duties, I unlocked the entry and flipped on the light. We'd made some improvements to the space: Mr. K had rewired the dangling string lights to actual switches, and we'd worked together to cut a small window in the wall facing the front porch, so now a breeze from the direction of Ohia Bay could blow through the shack and out the window that faced into the jungle at the rear. I opened the window, sliding the glass aside but keeping the screen in place, and also unlatched and propped open the back window; the place smelled a little musty, which happened quickly here in the tropics.

I glanced at the kitchenette area that lined one wall. The interior appeared bug-free, and over our months sharing the space I'd come to have a fondness for the critters that called it home.

"Hello, Tweedledum. Tweedledee." The two geckos stuck to the wall, one with a stumpy tail from Tiki's attempt to eat it, pumped their bodies up and down in greeting. "And Miss Prissy." I was less fond of the large brown cane spider perched in the corner but had accepted her bug-catching prowess along with that of the geckos as part of island living. "I see you guys got those flies that came in when I opened the door last time. Thanks."

I grabbed a dishtowel and wiped down the old Formica table. Keone and I had added office chairs on either side of it and put in a satellite-enabled router that hooked into New Ohia's system; that white device sat on the table like a squat Internet deity, waiting to connect me to the outside world.

I had also brought my lunch, a glass storage container of Aunt Fae's delicious corn chowder with a side of homemade bread. I threw the chowder in the microwave and sat down in my office chair, taking out my phone. I tried video call and was rewarded by the sight of Keone's very white smile. "Hey, Mr. K. Can you talk?"

"Sure, Kitty Kat. I'm at Kahului Airport between flights." I'd hoped that would be the case; in response to his moniker (he'd taken to calling me what my dear friend Artie from the Ohia General Store had dubbed me), I loved the way the nickname rolled off his tongue with a Polynesian lilt. "How's the Lady Sapphire hunt going at your end?"

I dug the piece of lined paper out of my pocket and squinted at Mrs. Fukagawa's chicken scratch. "Pretty concerning, actually. I verified that Lady Sapphire was stolen, in her owner's opinion, due to being in a closed garden she couldn't get out of when she disappeared. She's also been gone a week with no sightings, which isn't great. And she was preggers and due to have valuable pedigreed kittens at Christmas."

"Maybe she was stolen so her babies could be sold. The plot thickens. "

"Yes, it does. Especially since there have been a bunch of missing loose cats in our area. Several customers verified it. I got one of the customers to write down all she knew, but her handwriting is hard to read."

I set the phone in a prop-up holder so we could see each other, and I smoothed the paper out on the table, squinting at it. "Mrs. Fukagawa knows of five missing cats from the Hana and Ohia area. They were all indoor-outdoor felines. She says here some might have been taken from yards and some were loose and never came home."

My gaze fell to the folded beach towel under the table where Tiki hung out when I was here. I couldn't bear to tell Keone that Tiki might be missing too. She'd probably turn up by dinnertime, so it wasn't worth mentioning. "What did you find out at your end?"

He cleared his throat. "Are you sitting down?"

Well, dang. This did not bode well. "Keone, that sounds ominous."

I glanced over at the Murphy bed I'd slept on for my first months on Maui. Strapped securely to the wall, it promised a nap if I ever needed one. My three critter "pets" were happily hunting bugs on the wall in the kitchen, and through the back window I watched the large, glossy, waving leaves of a noni tree whose many health benefits my Hawaiian friend Josie had taught me about. Whatever news Keone had, I could handle it. "Tell me."

"Well, cats are disappearing here in Kahului too. Once I started showing the flyer and asking around, I heard about feral cats near the airport just up and disappearing. About twenty cats total so far. Most of a colony."

That gave me a bit of a chill. "You have feral cat colonies in that part of the island?"

"Yeah. You're new here so maybe you're not aware, but Maui has a feral cat overpopulation problem. They have no natural predators in Hawaii, and getting cats fixed is too expensive for a lot of people. Over time we've ended up with thousands on all the islands, but Maui especially."

"Yikes," I said.

"And the native bird and monk seal biologists—you know we have bird species and a seal species not found anywhere else in the world—they say the cats prey on the endangered birds and carry toxoplasmosis that kills the female monk seals. They are not fans. That pits them against the Cat People."

"Cat people?" I stared thoughtfully at Tiki's empty towel bed. "I'm a cat person, I guess. Because I love my cat."

"That's not the same. There are . . . Cat People." His voice lowered to a hushed, spooky tone, making me smile. "My mom's one of them. These folks are passionate. They hate to see any cat put down for any reason. Cat People feed the wild cat colonies and pay for them to be spayed, neutered, and have vet care. One of the women who works with me in the baggage department is a Cat Person. She's part of caring for the airport cat colony, and she's the one that told me that the twenty or so from her group have disappeared."

Alertness rippled down my spine and I sat up straighter. "Who, or what, could remove that many cats all at once? And where would they go?"

"Nobody knows. Folks are upset and think they must have come to harm."

"Maybe they were trapped and taken somewhere to be rehomed," I said.

"On Maui?" He snorted. "We're an island, and a small one at that. The very definition of a feral cat is that it's wild and hard to find a home for. These animals aren't socialized. Like Tiki was when you first moved into the shack with her. Not everyone has your patience to win over a shy furry beast."

"Tiki was never shy."

"But most of them are, and are afraid of people."

I'd discovered Tiki the first day I moved into the shack as postmaster; she'd already been inside and had no intention of leaving. And Tiki had, indeed, been a difficult roommate who'd drawn blood on more than one occasion. I'd never been called patient before, but in Tiki's case I guess I'd made an exception because we'd eventually found our groove.

Now it hurt to imagine life without her, and I hoped I wouldn't have to.

The microwave dinged, and I jumped, startled. "Okay. Well, there's a lot going on here, but we don't know if any of it is connected to our actual case. I'm going out to visit the scene of the crime, Elvira Scarborough's house, after work at four p.m. When will you be off? Maybe we can meet up in Hana."

"Yeah, I'd love an evening surf." Keone rolled his big shoulders in the tight white polyester uniform Pacific Wings packed him into. I loved the way he looked in it—yeah, I objectified my man, and he assured me that was okay. "My last flight of the day lands at five so I should be out of Hana Airport by five thirty—but there won't be much time to get in the water before it's dark now that it's December. Let's plan to go in at Koki Beach and we can eat at a food truck after." He smiled. Dang it, the guy had a cute dimple. "Can't wait to see you."

"Yup. Sounds like a plan."

"Love you," he said.

"Back atcha," I replied, and hit a button to end the call.

Saying the L word was still hard; I was vulnerable every time I admitted my feelings and so I found ways to avoid articulating them. I hoped he didn't notice.

I still had time to eat my corn chowder and dunk the bread in it, and I stared thoughtfully into space as I did so.

Who was making cats disappear on Maui? And why? What was happening to them?

That last question made the hairs rise on the back of my neck.