The Extortion Cat-astrophe: A Beatrice Young Cozy Cat Mystery (Beatrice Young Cozy Cat Mysteries Book 2) Read Free Page A

Matthew sat on the couch next to her and grabbed his favorite: the long chocolate-filled cookies.
    Nathan settled into a reclining chair and rubbed his hands together nervously. “What I tell you doesn’t leave this room,” he said. “Matt, do you remember about ten years ago when I was caught in a snowstorm outside of town? I was coming back from a trip to Plymouth in January and my car battery conked out a few miles from Ashbrook. It was a near white out and cold as anything. I had no heat, my cell battery was dead, and no one was on the road.”
    Matthew was nodding. “Yeah I remember that. Didn’t some random guy save you?”
    “Yep. Tony Parsons came along out of the blue and drove me back to my place. I didn’t really know him at the time. He lived in the next town, was kind of a sketchy guy. Pot dealer. Scrawny fellow. But there he came, out of that snowstorm, and saved my life.”
    Nathan took a deep breath. “This was after my wife left me, after the kids had moved out. I didn’t have a lot of people to call, even if my phone was working. So I felt really grateful towards this guy. A down-and-out guy with a heart of gold, or at least that’s how I saw it. Looking back, I was a real target.”
    Matthew and Beatrice exchanged glances. “But this guy didn’t just accept your thanks and disappear, did he?” Beatrice asked. “That’s what you were trying to tell me earlier today?”
    Nathan nodded. “That’s right. A couple of days later I asked him if I could do anything for him, anything at all. He said he was behind on his rent so I offered to give him the cash. I was happy to do it.”
    He sighed. “Over the next while he kept making small asks—money for his phone bill or rent or something for his kid. I didn’t mind. I figured I was helping a guy who really needed it. After all, I had more money than I could spend. Why shouldn’t I do something for the man who saved my life?”
    Matthew leaned back in the sofa and folded his hands. His eyebrows knit together, a sure sign he was distressed. “How long did this go on?”
    “Well, a few years.” Nathan ran a hand through his thinning gray hair. “Until the asks got higher and higher. Eventually he was asking for more than I could give. I tried to cut him off. That’s when he turned. Called me on the phone screaming abuse, keyed my car, even sent someone to smash my windows in the middle of the night.”
    “And you didn’t call the cops?” Beatrice asked.
    Nathan shook his head sadly. “No. I … felt like such a fool. That I hadn’t caught on all those years to how he was using me. That I kept giving him cash for no good reason.”
    He shrugged. “I just decided that I didn’t want to involve anyone else in my problems. I had gotten myself into this mess and I was going to handle it on my own. So I gave him the money he wanted. And he went away for a while. But of course he came back again and again…”
    Nathan buried his head in his hands and exhaled deeply.
    “Nate, you never even thought to tell me about it?” Matthew asked. “All those times we went out for beers—you never said anything. I could have helped you.”
    “I just … I didn’t want to create problems for anyone else. I thought it was all my fault.”
    “Listen Nate, I’m glad at least that you told us now,” Beatrice cut in, leaning forward. “We need to find this Tony Parsons and stop this now .”
    Nathan chuckled darkly. “Well, I wish it was that easy, Bee. But, you see, Tony Parsons is in jail. He’s not my problem, it’s whoever’s taken over for him that I’m worried about.”

5
    Beatrice and Matthew were at a lost for words. For a few moments, the only sound in the room came from an ancient clock, ticking on the wall, and the faint hum of electronics.
    “Wait, wait,” Matthew broke in. “Did you send him to jail?”
    “No, I wish. About a year ago he stopped asking for money. I thought maybe he’d moved on. Then I read in the paper that he