1 Odds and Ends (9 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Something or someone woke Margot again, and she groaned pushing herself to a sitting position. She listened, but heard nothing. “Odds?”

She peered into the darkness of the room but didn’t see Odds’ eyes reflecting back at her. This was just like him, to wake her and then run off the hide. Perhaps he was beneath the bed. Well, he could stay there because she didn’t think she could get up again if she got down to the floor.

Margot threw the covers back and pushed her feet into her slippers. She took a step and then froze. The floor above her creaked. She swallowed. This time, instead of the apartment next door, it was the third floor. No one lived up there. Should she call Peter now or wait to be sure?

In the living room, she paused again. “Odds, where are you?”

She strained to hear an answering meow but got nothing. Where had that darn cat gotten to? He couldn’t have gotten out of the apartment because she had locked the door.

“Hmm, I guess even if I didn’t lock the door, he couldn’t get out.”

She shook her head at her silliness. Now she was sounding like Nancy with the ridiculous theories. Of course, she might have forgotten to let him into the apartment, which would be terrible. He might be out there cold and afraid.

Thinking such thoughts stirred Margot to action. She rushed to the closet to get an item from it that she had purchased from the dollar store. The bat might be plastic, but it was less flexible than the top of the plunger. Most of all Odds wouldn’t make fun of her when she grabbed it for protection. Unless he thought the bright blue color was funny.

Margot checked the peephole and found the space around her door empty, so she let herself out into the hall. “Odds, are you out here?” she whispered.

She called him while traversing the hall then stood at the top of the stairs. She considered checking the first floor where he was most likely to be, maybe even inside Nancy’s apartment. Then she recalled the creak on the ceiling. Odds was too light to make such a noise. Someone was up there, and her apartment was right beneath Coley’s.

Margot gripped the bat in one hand and placed the other on the railing. Perhaps Nancy was right, and the killer had returned to the scene of the crime. Never mind that the crime had happened in the basement. She stopped, scared to on.

The intruder could be Jimmy. He might not have given up his plan to sell dollar store items and had decided to use Coley’s apartment. Margot recalled the scent and reminded herself not to accept any goods for sale from Jimmy.

Margot made her way up the stairs and stopped again to peek through the railing along the hall. Coley’s door wasn’t open, but the empty apartment door was. She frowned in confusion and inched the rest of the way up. A floorboard squeaked under her feet, and she froze, heart in her throat. Nothing moved.

She crept down the hall. By now she panted and wondered if the intruder already knew she was coming. Her underarms were moist as well as the back of her neck. The bat felt slippery in her hand. She had visions of swinging it and the thing flying and landing harmlessly across the room.

Margot reached the doorway, but her legs wobbled to take the step that would lead her farther into the apartment. She moved back instead. The bat wavered in her hand, and her arm ached.

No, be brave, Margot. You’re on your own now.
“O-Odds?” she called.

A hand dropped onto shoulder, and she screamed. The bat flew into the air and came down behind her. A yelp of pain brought her up short, and Margot spun around. Jimmy stood there rubbing his head and frowning at her.

“So it was you!”

“No, it wasn’t,” he grumbled. “What are we talking about?”

“You,” she said primly, “hiding more loot.”

He frowned. “What do you know about the word
loot
, Margot? But for your information, I wasn’t hiding anything. I wasn’t even up here until I heard you
shooshing
along.”

“Shooshing? I do not shoosh!”

He imitated the sound her slippers made over the hardwood floors. Heat rose in her cheeks. All the time, she had thought she was being quiet, but she was wrong. Some detective she made.

“I was looking for the intruder.” Even to her own ears, she sounded like a senile old fool.

“What intruder?”

Margot felt less and less like telling him what she thought she heard. Then she remembered the apartment behind her. “The door is open. See?”

He frowned. “You didn’t leave it open?”

“I haven’t been in there yet.”

“Wait here,” he grumbled. “If I have to run, I don’t want to trip over you.”

“Such a nice young man,” she snapped.

He ignored her quip and walked into the apartment. Two minutes later, he was back and closed the door behind him. “Empty.”

“Are you sure?” Margot started for the door.

He shrugged and began walking down the hall. “Search for yourself. I’ll bet Nancy left it open. You probably already know how much she steals. Coley wasn’t dead in his grave before she was scoping out his stuff and taking things.”

“Don’t say that.” Margot followed him, but she found it hard to keep up with his long stride. She had to stumble along at a faster clip than she was used to. “Nancy’s a—”

“Klepto,” he interrupted. “I bet she’s got tons of Coley’s stuff at her place. Well, I’m turning in. Stop wandering around making me nervous. This isn’t some ritzy neighborhood or wherever you came from, and the neighbors aren’t as nice as you think they are. Stay inside until everybody’s awake. Good night.”

“How did you know I—” she began, but Jimmy jogged down the steps and disappeared along the second floor hall. She took her time descending the stairs and returned to her apartment.

Margot shut her door and locked it. She put the bat away and then searched the apartment. Odds was nowhere to be found.

“Well, he wasn’t mine anyway.” Unaccountably sad, she removed her slippers and climbed into bed. Sleep was a long time coming.

Chapter Seventeen

Margot woke impatient to get the day started, and she climbed hurriedly out of bed. Only after she had prepared food for Odds on a saucer—because he refused to eat in the cat dish she had purchased him—she recalled he hadn’t been home all night. Where could that silly cat be?

She walked down to Nancy’s apartment to check with her, but when her friend could provide no insight, Margot returned to her own place. Scouring the newspaper alone, she found an odd job she might be interested in. If Odds were there, he would tell her whether it was a good one or not.

“No, he’s just as ignorant of this as I am, and all he does it get me into trouble.”

Maybe she should interview for the job without him. Everything might turn out better. Margot noted the phone number and made the call. A few minutes later, she had an interview.

After a shower, she dressed and ate breakfast to keep her strength up. Then she left the apartment. All the while as she walked downstairs and out of the building to make the trek to the bus stop, she listened for Odds and kept looking over her shoulder for him. A couple hours later, Margot returned home tired but hopeful she would get a call soon.

Wearily she stepped into her apartment building, and there sat Odds in the middle of the hall watching her. “Where have you been, you naughty cat?” she demanded.

His tail swished, and he licked a paw.

“Not talking now?”

“Was I ever, or was it all in your head?”

She grumbled, “I have half a mind to disown you.”

Meow.
Wide-eyed.

“Well? Are you going to tell me where you were?”

He stood and sauntered over to Nancy’s door. Margot frowned. “Did Nancy steal you too?”

At her words, Nancy’s door opened, and Nancy hurried into the hall. A wide grin spread over her face. “Margot, I thought I heard you. Who were you talking to?”

“The cat.” Margot saw no reason to hide it at the moment. She was very peeved.

“Oh you found him. Good.” She scooted over to Margot and grabbed her arm. “Guess what, dear. He’s here!”

“Who’s there?” Margot rounded her eyes, probably like the foolish cat.

“Mr. Mercer.” Nancy squealed in delight. “I finally convinced him to come to lunch. I told you I shouldn’t give up hope. I always get my man, even at my age.”

“But she never keeps him.”

Margot’s lips twitched. “That’s good, Nancy. I’m glad for you. If you’ll excuse me.”

“Oh, no, you have to come in and have a bite to eat.”

“But—”

“I insist.” She held up a finger. “Plus you have to tell me where you found Odds. I bet he’s been up to all kinds of adventures us older gals never get to enjoy.”

“I had lots of adventure this morning on the crowded bus, being jostled and pressed against by a man with an unwashed body. I was offered a seat two blocks before my stop…”

Nancy would hear none of her excuses and all but dragged Margot into her apartment. “Look, Mr. Mercer. I found Margot. Now the three of us can have a nice visit together. Here let me bring you a plate, Margot.”

Margot moved to a seat at the dining room table and dropped into it. “Good afternoon, Mercer. How are you today?”

She looked into the gentleman’s face and caught a tightening of his lips before they relaxed. Did he want to be alone with Nancy, and she was intruding? Then he smiled.

“I’m well. Thanks for asking, Margot. I thought I would come down and make amends with Nancy. After all, we do have a nice little community here, and I wouldn’t want to ruin it with a sour attitude.”

“You’re so right,” she said. Poor Nancy was jumping to conclusions again. “You’ll have to make it clear to her that you…uh…she…”

Mercer waited for her to finish her sentence, but faced with voicing Nancy’s hopes to the man in question, she hesitated. He might not have realized her intentions.

“Never mind,” she finished dismally.

A noise caught Margot’s attention, and she turned. Odds was on the mantel again toeing through the clutter. He batted at a picture frame, and Margot shrieked.

“Get down, Odds!”

She darted from her chair just as Nancy stepped from the kitchen holding a covered pot between two mitten-covered hands. Margot crashed into her, and Nancy and Margot both uttered a pained
oof
. The pot swung dangerously toward Mercer, and he leaped to his feet, reaching out to stop it.

“That was close,” Margot said in relief. “I’m sor—”

A crash, and Margot recalled the darn cat. The picture lay on the floor, the glass shattered. Odds stood poised with his paw on another piece, ready to tip it over. He stared at Margot. She looked at him.

“Don’t you dare! You’ve done enough damage.”

Over went the small trophy, and Margot gave a cry as she ran to the mantel. When she drew up to it, she snatched the cat down and dropped him on his feet on the floor. Then she bent down to the picture and turned it over. Well at least the photo wasn’t damaged. She wondered miserably how much a frame would cost.

Odds sat beside her, unrepentant. Margot noticed the little trophy. At least it looked cheap, but the base had almost come off of it, and the gluing had been a shoddy job. She flipped the thing upside down and tried to wiggle it back into place. A name had been carved into the wooden base. Strange, she thought. Weren’t winners’ names usually engraved to a plate in gold and placed on the front?

Robert William Mercer Cunningham
, she read and froze.

“You’ve figured it out, haven’t you, Margot?” Mercer said.

She swallowed and pulled herself to her feet while still clutching the trophy. When she turned around, she found Mercer, glasses removed, holding onto Nancy’s arm with one hand and a gun in the other.

“You killed Coley,” she said.

“Bingo.” He grinned.

Nancy clutched her hands together, tears in her eyes. “You’re not blind at all, are you, Mr. Mercer?”

“No, I’m not.” He glared at her. “And because of your thieving ways, I had to spend three months in this hole pretending to be.”

Nancy’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

Margot held up the trophy. “I think he means this, Nancy.” Her voice shook only a little, she was glad to note. “His real name is Robert William Mercer Cunningham.”

“Cunningham,” Nancy repeated. “Isn’t that the owner’s name?”

“Exactly.” Margot puzzled over the whys.

Mercer waved the gun at Margot, and she had a sudden urge to use the facilities. “If you’ll hand that trophy to me, everything will be fine.”

She turned the trophy this way and that in her hand. “I don’t understand what’s so important about this trophy. It looks cheap. Even the base looks like it’s been re-glued, and badly at that.”

As she spoke the piece broke completely off, and for the first time she was able to see into it. A small item had been hidden inside. When she looked up, Mercer was straining to see while he remained where he stood.

Margot pinched the item out of the trophy base and held it up. “Is this what you were looking for?”

“Finally! Give it to me quickly. I don’t want to have to kill you.”

Nancy moaned. She sagged against Mercer, and he struggled with her weight. Margot’s hands began to shake. The trophy and the item slipped from her fingers to the carpet. She dropped to her knees to get them and found that Odds had disappeared again. Looking around, she spotted him under the table. His ears were flat against his head, his back hunched, and his tail had fluffed out twice its normal size.

“Don’t hurt Nancy,” Margot said.

“Oh, Margot,” Nancy sniffed. “Thank you for thinking of me first.”

Mercer’s jaw twitched. “I won’t hurt her if you give me the flash drive.”

Margot straightened, calling up courage from her toes. “I wasn’t talking about
you
hurting Nancy.”

“Then what—”

A silver ball flashed through the air and landed on Mercer’s wrist. Claws dug in, and Mercer howled. The gun swung wide. Margot dove for the floor with every muscle and joint crying out. Nancy screamed, and something
thumped
. The door burst open, and Margot heard the welcome command of “freeze” from Peter, and she sagged in relief.