Roxie suggested, “We could do a daytime and an evening group. I know I’d rather do evenings. I need my mornings in the office.”

“But you show houses in the evenings.”

“I show houses any chance I get. This way I could do one or the other.” She glanced at her watch. “Speaking of which, I have an appointment in an hour. Good thing we are on the homeward stretch.”

MJ frowned. “What about that couple you showed the house to a few doors down from me?”

“If the counteroffer is accepted, it’s a go. You’ll like them as neighbors.” Roxie swirled the ice in her latte. “Let’s get moving. You got any ginger cookies, my friend?”

“I do, Gary started early this morning. One lady last night ordered three dozen to be picked up on her noon break.”

Both women nodded. “That’s great.”

“Yup, and a couple others asked if they could meet here for lunch and bring their knitting along. Can you beat that? That back room might get to be real popular. A couple of writers are back there now. One said my whole-wheat cinnamon rolls are the best she ever tasted.”

“Well, that’s only because they are.” Roxie pushed back her chair.

“Grab a doggy treat as you go.”

“Yup. We’re going to make Annie’s Fountain City Cafe the most favorite coffee spot in Fond du Lac.”

“I hope the house sale you set up goes through.” Anne waved them out.

“From her mouth to God’s ear.” Roxie leaned over to pat Sir Charles’s shoulders and unhook his leash. “Come on, boy, we gotta hurry.”

“Let me know how it goes,” MJ called after her. Now, what to attack next?

Chapter Five

Amalia’s nose told her she was at the animal shelter even if she hadn’t seen the sign. She didn’t really mind mild animal odors, but this was too much. She entered and crossed to a shabby desk, bringing Ima’s cat carrier. “The daughter of Ima Goldson, recently deceased, brought you her mother Ima’s cat. I would like to adopt him.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes, I do, that’s why I came.”

The receptionist stood up. “Come, please,” and led the way through two sets of doors to the cage area. She waved her arm at a battery of small cages. “We have some beautiful cats here in need of adoption. Many of them are kittens. Sweet, lively kittens. What color would you be interested in?”

“Gray. I want a very old, fixed, gray Maine coon cat with a black smudge on his nose. A ragged left ear would be perfect.”

The woman studied her. “That cat bites, and it is very old. It is mean, really not a good fit for anyone who likes cats.”

Amalia kept her annoyance hidden. Probably. “That’s quite all right. I don’t like cats.”

“You’ll have to pay for shots and registration.”

“The cat is up to date with all his vaccinations. Here. Ima’s daughter gave me his medical history booklet signed by his vet.”