Gifts and Thefts: Mae Martin Mysteries, #7.5

By Amber Foxx

Six Short Mae Martin Mysteries

Could a gift cat be a mystery in disguise?

Gifts and Thefts picks up where Shadow Family left off with six connected short stories, beginning with the anonymous gift of a cat and ending with an elephant in the room. Faced with decisions about using her psychic gift, Mae Martin wants to help her friends and colleagues, but uncovering the truth has consequences—for her and for people she cares about. The answers to simple questions have complicated results, and solving one mystery opens the door to a bigger one.

The Mae Martin Series

No murder, just mystery. Every life hides a secret, and love is the deepest mystery of all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amber Foxx
• Release date: Mar 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393453765

Amber Foxx

Amber Foxx, author of the award-winning Mae Martin Psychic Mystery Series, has worked professionally in theater, dance, fitness, yoga and academia. She has lived in both the Southeast and the Southwest, and calls New Mexico home.

Book preview

Rodeo Regrets

Jamie’s doorbell rang.

Bloody hell.

He and Mae were halfway up the stairs. Halfway undressed. They’d barely been able to keep their hands off each other when she drove him home from the airport, and she’d peeled her sundress off as soon as he closed the door to his duplex.

Jamie ran down to the living room and grabbed Mae’s dress, tossing it to her and missing. Who is it? The dress slithered back down the steps toward him.

Us, who else? Will Baca hollered back. We’re early.

No fucking kidding, mate.

Mae dashed up the stairs in her underwear, and the bedroom door clicked shut.

I should be in there with her. It’s been a month, a whole month ...

Come in. Jamie looked for his shirt. He had no idea where it had landed. I’m not exactly ready for you, though. Did he sound grouchy? He meant to. Early was not cool. His pet sitters were supposed to bring his animals home in an hour. An hour in which a lot could have happened.

Letitia, a shapely woman of East Indian ancestry and West Indian origins, came in with a parrot travel carrier in each hand, followed by her boyfriend Will, a small, wiry Apache man ten years her junior. He carried, strangely, two cat carriers. Jamie only had one cat.

Not looking at Jamie, Letitia set the parrots down near Mae’s unmistakable size eleven sandals lying on the shoe mat by the door. I’ll get their cages from the truck. No smile, no how-was-your-trip chat. None of her customary playful good cheer.

As soon as she was outside again, Jamie asked Will, She all right? Seems stiff, y’know? Not herself. You have a fight? For many reasons, he didn’t want to see his pet sitters’ relationship in trouble. After a shaky past, they’d settled down and had some success working as a team. Jamie’s animals were sensitive and needed a safe and healthy environment when he went on tour. And Mae was invested in the couple’s success as well. Her work as a healer had made Will’s turnaround possible.

Jamie moved his birds toward their play area, but didn’t let them out, much as he wanted to. There was too much going on, including the presence of a strange cat, not yet explained. Over the objections of his bad hip, Jamie sat on the floor and greeted his parrots through the stainless-steel mesh of their carriers.

Yeah, we’re fighting, Will said. I’ll tell you when we can talk alone. How was your trip? He crouched to open Gasser’s crate. The cat uttered his questioning mer? but allowed Will to handle him. He was the only person other than Jamie who could. Gasser’s trust in Will puzzled Jamie, but animals had their own ways of judging people. Will was a former rodeo bull rider, an occupation Jamie found appalling, but he couldn’t deny Will was good with animals. The couple had horses, goats, and cockatoos at their home on the outskirts of Santa Fe. You a genius at healing animals now? Will asked.

Nah, but I’m better at it.

Good. I’m not one of those people who think it’s silly, like you’re too chicken to heal people. Classic Will Baca—turning a compliment into an insult. He gave Gasser a little pat as if sending a horse off at a trot, and the fat orange cat padded over to Jamie. Will said, I need you to heal my new cat.

Letitia came back, putting Placido’s medium-sized cage inside the door, then giving the men an impatient look. Jamie had his arms full with Gasser, clasping his pet in a hug that provoked a warble and a fart from the cat. Will rushed to follow his girlfriend outside, and in a moment, they brought Bouquet’s large cage in.

Jamie finally spied his shirt, snagged on the parrots’ favorite perch, a large natural tree branch. He kissed his cat between the ears, then put him down and rose to put on his shirt and collect Mae’s dress. Will snickered.

You should have called first. Jamie muttered. I said to come at six-thirty for a reason, y’know.

Letitia exclaimed, "But someone sent Will a cat. No contact information, no explanation."

Old girlfriend? Jamie teased.

This isn’t Tex. I’ve seen his picture, Letitia snapped. Montana Chino kept him. Are there other old girlfriends? Because that’s what I’ve been thinking.

I was kidding. See, there’s this thing in one of Tony Hillermans’s books where Jim Chee sends his cat to his ex-girlfriend. He thinks it’s basically a white person’s cat, not an Indian cat, y’know? So, I pictured the reverse, white lady sending Will what she thinks is an Indian cat. Sorry. My mind jumps around.

Will stared at him so intensely, Jamie wondered if his joke had hit on the truth.

Mae can find out where the cat came from, Letitia said.

Um, yeah, maybe, but, like—is this an emergency? If it wasn’t, the request was presumptuous.

Mae appeared at the head of the stairs in a pair of Jamie’s cotton drawstring pants and one of his old T-shirts. To him, she still looked sexy, the way his clothes clung to the curves of her strong, athletic figure, but the outfit made it clear their passionate reunion was on hold for now. Hey, I hear y’all talking about me.

Letitia said, I need a psychic.

Mae jogged downstairs, collected her dress, and went back up. She was still in Jamie’s clothes when she came back down, and she’d added his white cowboy hat over her carrot-red hair. Want to take a walk and talk about it.? I had a three-hour drive from T or C, and I could stand to move around some.

Letitia’s brows drew together, but she said nothing and followed Mae out.

Hope that helps. Jamie released his birds—Placido, a green Eclectus, and Bouquet, a hyacinth macaw—from their travel carriers and put them on the tree-branch perch.

Women talking to each other? Will helped him moved the two bird cages onto their stands. That usually makes things worse.

Nah, talking’s always good. Jamie rubbed the green parrot’s neck. Ma-a-ate. You love to talk. How ya feelin’?

Good. Placido’s voice was small and sweet. How ya feelin’?

Pissed off. Buggered. Don’t learn those words. Good, mate, I’m good.

The spare cat mewed like a lost, scared kitten, and Gasser hissed, his back arched and his tail fuzzy.

Will hoisted the carrier. We need to separate her and Gasser. They’re stressing each other out. Let’s take her in another room and you can heal her, okay? She’s had a major transition.

You know her story, then?

Will looked down at the crate. I just want her to be happy, and I want Tish to like her.

Not exactly an answer. She may not like her if she doesn’t know where she came from.

She’ll like her less if she does.

––––––––

Jamie grabbed some old copies of The Reporter from the recycling bin in the kitchen, in case the stressed-out cat expressed her anxiety by pissing, and he and Will went upstairs to the guest room. Jamie closed the door.

You look good, Baldy. Will said, as if it surprised him. Not like Cancer Man anymore. Once again, Will made a compliment sound like an insult.

Thanks, I guess. Jamie’s new hair was a darker and duller blond than the scant hair that had somehow survived chemo, and when he’d cut it all short to match in length, the effect was like a badly faded cheetah print, and still a striking contrast with his dark skin. He’d halfway hoped his new hair would be dark, but he remained that rare adult who retained the light hair of Aboriginal children. Except for the cheetah fuzz, though, he didn’t look bad. Did a lot of yoga while I was in Darwin studying with the pet healer. Sort of getting back in shape. Then I did some Warlpiri music and dance when I went to Yuendumu and Nyirripi to see relatives. Good for my body and soul, y’know?

Will held up a hand. I want to hear about the pet healer.

She teaches energy work. Healing trauma, neuroses. I got to practice on all sorts of animals, even a llama. Hard to describe what I did, though. Getting more sensitive to their problems and how to help.

I hope she’s not traumatized. Will sat on the futon and opened the carrier to tenderly extract a long-haired white cat with one brown ear and one black ear. She stood on her hind legs and put her front paws on Will’s chest, looking into his eyes while he petted her.

She knows you, Jamie said.

Yeah. Will let out a long sigh. Her name is Ears. I’ve known her since she was a kitten. Since I was nineteen. Not quite my first rodeo, but close.

Why didn’t you tell Letitia? Mae and I have better things to do than a psychic investigation when you actually know the answer and healing a cat who seems pretty happy to see you.

She still may need healing. Last I knew she belonged to Peaches, lady that ran a motel in Currituck, North Carolina. The rodeo people like to stay there during Bulls ’n Barbecue ’cause she serves a good breakfast. Her husband works on a fishing boat, and he’s gone a lot that time of year, so I’d sleep at her place, and Ears got real attached to me. This year, I just didn’t show up. I think some of the other guys on the circuit must have told Peaches I’d quit.

And she sent you the cat. All right. Strange ending, but seems like a kind of an affectionate goodbye, y’know?

Will petted Ears as she sustained her standing position. Or it could mean she’s sick and had to get Ears a new home. Or she’s mad at me and being passive-aggressive. Or she actually misses me. I’d hate that. Any of it.

Just call her, mate. Find out what’s up. And thank her.

And stir things up again? I don’t think I should talk to her.

What—you fight with her, too? Hurt her feelings? What?

Will turned Ears over in his arms and rubbed her belly. She stared, not purring. C’mon, Ears, you used to like this. Will scratched her under her chin. She flipped over and dropped to the floor to hide behind his legs. This isn’t good.

Made her too vulnerable. She loves you, but she doesn’t feel safe. Jamie bent down and tried to peer under the futon. The only part of the cat he could see was her fluffy white tail, switching back and forth. As long as she didn’t piss on the floor, she would be okay there for a while. What happened with Peaches?

Will sighed, sinking into a slump. Last time I was in Currituck, Peaches said we should go to the beach and watch the wild horses. It was raining, and I was going to leave that day. I had a long drive, and the Cherokee rodeo was the next day. But she said we needed to do something special. I said it was too much like a date, that we weren’t romantic and it would spoil things if we were. Told her, ‘If you need to do something special, do it for yourself. Not with me.’

And she didn’t throw you out?

"We were still in bed. Ears was still sleeping on my pillow. Peaches got mad and said I just came to see her cat, and I said I was into her pussy, too. That didn’t help. She stomped off into the shower, and I thought, I’ll show her. I took Ears."

"You stole her cat?"

Almost. I felt guilty, though. So, I brought Ears back, but I just left her in the office. I didn’t go to Peaches’ apartment and apologize. Then, this year rolled around, and I wasn’t on the circuit anymore. And she sent me the cat.

And that’s why you don’t want to talk to her? So you don’t have to apologize?

I don’t know if she wants me to. She shipped Ears to my old address. No letter, nothing came with her. I got an e-mail from some company about a live animal delivery, but I didn’t read it. I figured it was spam, or something about goat rentals, and Tish handles those. So I was blown away when Reno brought Ears up to the house today. Will had formerly lived in the Airstream on Letitia’s property. The current tenant of the trailer was an artist from Mescalero, Will’s home reservation. Tish asked what the hell was going on, and I said I didn’t know, and just hurried up bringing you your animals.

"You lied to her? Mate, you’re letting me down. I thought you were a new man."

I’m trying to be. I don’t want to mess up with her. She put up with so much shit from me for so long, and she’s feeling kind of insecure ’cause she just turned forty. Not that I care. Peaches is older than that. But anyway, I pretended I’d gotten a mystery gift, and told her you should heal the cat before we let her out. Because if I unpacked Ears, and she was all cuddly with me, it’d be obvious she was a cat I’d slept with.

Not covering for you, mate. Jamie’s first gig as a certified companion animal healer was not going to be a stunt to help Will lie. What’s the name of the motel?

The Mustang. Why?

Jamie went