Cat of the Century (12 page)

After Aileen left, Aunt Tally said sotto voce to Inez, “All this hugging. I think every student hugged me. I’m not one for intemperate embrace, but I was glad to hug that child. I so hope the killer is found before I die!”

The alumnae board, waiting to say their good-byes, stepped forward after Aileen had walked away.

Liz overheard the last part of the conversation, as had Flo.

“You know.” Liz began to wail.

“Know what?” Aunt Tally was puzzled.

“About Mariah.”

Flo said sharply, “Liz, shut up.”

“What’s going on?” Aunt Tally was more than curious. She knew something was being kept from her.

At that moment Inez would have gladly killed Liz. The thought was occurring to Jahnae, as well.

Smoothly, Inez told her dear friend, “Blossom, one of our board members appears to be in trouble. We don’t know any more than that.”

“She’s dead! I know she’s dead.” Liz, being a somewhat inebriated twit, made it worse.

“For Christ’s sake, Tim. Get her out of here,” Flo commanded Liz’s husband.

He did as he was told, but Liz did not go quietly. She’d snuck in a third drink, which was all too apparent to her husband.

“You all are trying to shut me up!”

“That’s right.” Tim moved her faster and faster to the door.

He didn’t stop for her coat but hauled her out in the high wind and snow, all but dragging her to the rental car.

“My coat.”

“I’ll get it later.” He slammed the door and hoped the cheap piece of metal would start.

Nothing like a rental car to make one appreciate a good vehicle.

Back in the building, Aunt Tally squared off at the alumnae board. “Is she dead?”

Andrea replied honestly, “We don’t know, but she’s missing, and it’s not like Mariah to miss a board meeting or your party.”

“Why would Mariah … Well, let me put it this way: Who would wish her harm?”

Flo, to her credit, said, “Apart from me, I can’t think of anyone.”

Inez noticed the lines of students moving out and whispered to Harry, “Will you fetch our coats?”

“Of course.” Harry left with Little Mim, who wanted to pick up her mother’s and her own.

Back at the group, Aunt Tally thanked the alumnae board for their efforts and made them feel better. “I know you all didn’t want to disturb me. I’m sure Mariah’s vanishing was a strain on everyone. Thank you for considering my feelings on my special day.”

Flo nodded. “Sooner or later we’ll get to the bottom of this. You have a special present from the board. It’s waiting for you at Rose Hill.”

This certainly lifted Aunt Tally’s spirits. “I can’t wait.”

She bid everyone good-bye, then she, Big Mim, Little Mim, Inez, and Harry donned their coats. Jahnae walked them to the door. A driver with a school vehicle waited for them. He first ferried Aunt Tally to the passenger seat. Although they were only a short distance from the door, the winds almost blew the tiny old lady away.

O
nce back at Fairchild Alumni House, the humans were greeted by the animals. Everyone sat in the living room as the lights flickered.

“If the power goes, no heat. No hot anything. The stove is electric,” Big Mim announced.

“This won’t be the first time William Woods has lost power. Let me rummage around. I bet there’s a propane heater somewhere.” Harry got up, with Mrs. Murphy, Tucker, and Pewter right behind her.

She checked the kitchen closets. Then she went into the basement. Sure enough, there was a propane heater, and it was full.

She brought it upstairs and placed it in the living room. “Just in case.”

“Better look for candles or flashlights,”
Mrs. Murphy suggested.

Although Harry didn’t understand what her cat was saying, she began searching for those very items. If you live in the country, you tend to think ahead. She found candles on the shelves of the broom closet and one flashlight. She brought these back to the living room.

“Detective work.” Little Mim reached for a candle.

Inez and Tally had been discussing Mariah’s no-show.

Aunt Tally turned a sharp eye on Inez. “What do you think?”

“Something has happened to her.”

“Like foul play,” Little Mim whispered.

“Don’t jump the gun.” Aunt Tally’s voice rose. “She could have had
a heart attack or a stroke. For all we know, she’s in the hospital. Or having an affair, slipping off before a big storm. That would give her an excuse. Power goes out. No cell phone service or landlines. It’s a possibility.”

“Kenda Shindler called the hospitals. In Columbia. In Jefferson City. In Kansas City. In St. Louis,” Inez said. “No Mariah.”

“She could have had a stroke and lost some memory. Maybe she doesn’t know who she is.” Aunt Tally then smiled. “Or she could know exactly who she is—people in love are resourceful. Like I said, the storm is a great opportunity.”

“You know, we’re all probably overreacting, thanks in part to Liz Filmore. Silly and drunk.” Inez folded her hands across her chest. “Liz rubs some people the wrong way. I get along with her, but she’s a social climber—at least, that’s how I read her. But that tawdry ambition makes her work hard to make money. Good for me.”

“Liz was loaded. Tim should have stuck a wine-soaked tennis ball in her mouth. Would have shut her up and pacified her at the same time.” Aunt Tally laughed.

“Low-pressure systems don’t help,” Little Mim said. Then she explained, “People feel tired, some get edgy. Maybe it’s not so bad.”

“This is awful to say, but we’re family.” Inez winked. “The meeting really was easier without Mariah. Of course, if the situation had been reversed—if Flo didn’t show up and Mariah did—it would have been just as easy.”

As Inez spoke, the lights flickered again but remained on. “I’m sorry for the blizzard and I’m sorry for the worry. Casts a shadow over your big day.” She turned to Aunt Tally. “I hope it was wonderful.”

“It really was. The biggest surprise was meeting Ralston Peavey’s granddaughter. I still can’t believe it.”

“Me, neither,” Big Mim agreed, and this was echoed by her daughter.

Tucker, Mrs. Murphy, and Pewter could feel the barometer drop more acutely than the humans could. Tucker wanted to go back to the manure pile, even if it was freezing over and covered with snow. On the other hand, she was happy to be inside. Really, she was getting as bad as Harry: She hated not knowing something.

Flo, plaid wool throw around her legs, was stretched out on Gayle’s sofa in the living room. Each woman would occasionally glance out the windows. Each time, they marveled at the volume of snow. They, too, were discussing Mariah.

“You must have some idea?” Gayle was worried.

“None. Look, Gayle, I couldn’t stand her. Didn’t even want to be in the same room with her. If she was up to no good, she certainly wasn’t going to tell me.”

“Apart from your college clashes, did she do something recently that offended you?”

“
She
offends me. Her very person. I’ve felt that way since I first met her. Haven’t you ever met someone and disliked them instantly?”

“Once. I avoided him.”

“Well, I couldn’t very well avoid Mariah. I swear, she spent more time at William Woods now than when she was a student, just to torment me. God knows, she never missed a chance to drive in from Kansas City. And her being on the alumnae board means I have to deal with her a lot. She’s just so … pushy.” She’d searched for that word.

“She is. But it’s in the service of the school.”

“Oh, bollocks. The alumnae board is a way for her to get attention. She’s raised a lot of money already. She craves attention. Always has.”

“I suppose she does,” Gayle reluctantly agreed. “It would appear that Liz Filmore suffers from attention-deficit syndrome, too.” She grinned mischievously. “Neither woman gets enough.”

“Give credit where credit is due.” Flo wrinkled her nose. “Mariah does raise money, and she wants attention for that. Liz wants attention for herself.”

“Looks like it,” Gayle agreed again.

“Mariah would not miss a meeting. Hell, she’d go just to irritate me.” Flo crossed one foot over the other. “She’s done something terrible. She’s on the lam. I guarantee it.”

“Flo,” Gayle took a deep breath, “what an awful thought.”

Flo thought for a moment, pulled the blanket more tightly around her. “Mariah inspires awful thoughts.”

Neither Flo nor Gayle knew of the twenty-five thousand dollars that had been drawn from the Kansas City account. Although it had been repaid, both women would have been outraged.

Gayle shifted on her chair. “It will all come out in the wash.” She paused. “Certainly was a lovely dinner. Can you imagine reaching one hundred?”

“You know, I never thought about it.” A deep sigh followed. “The only way, really, would be to marry a plastic surgeon. Maybe then you’d look seventy.”

“Maybe then your navel would be between your eyes.” Gayle giggled.

“The third eye of prophecy,” Flo shot back, and they laughed uproariously.

A
s a precaution, four of the maintenance workers bunked up at the university. Like the alumnae, people who worked at William Woods eventually fell under its spell. Hardworking, straightforward Missouri men, not one of them could bear the thought of “their kids” shivering in their rooms or not being able to get hot food.

While Aunt Tally had celebrated, the four men divided up the campus, each protecting his quadrant. Every residence hall was hooked up to a series of generators, and the maintenance men showed the CA, often a graduate student, how to cut off the circuit breakers, then turn on the generator. A few of the students, not country folk, knew how to check a circuit breaker but didn’t understand why they needed to cut the power when it was out. Patiently, they were informed that if the power came back on and the generator was running, they’d blow out everything.

The final carrying out of manure to the big snow-covered pile was done. The horses would be in superclean stalls in case they couldn’t be thoroughly mucked out tomorrow. The students had put down extra bedding. Water usually didn’t freeze inside the barns, but they knew that would happen tonight. Generators were hooked up in the barn so the pumps would still work. The frozen buckets could be dumped, then refilled with fresh water in the morning. Horses drank as much
as sixteen gallons of water on a hot day; on a cold one, they still needed a lot of water.

When Fuji Wertland knocked on the door of the alumni house, Harry and Tucker greeted him. The power had gone out an hour ago. The ladies sat around the propane heater.

“Come on in. I’m surprised you could get through,” Harry said.

“Snow’s supposed to end sometime tomorrow.” He shrugged. “Who knows? A weatherman can be wrong half the time and still keep his job.” He stepped inside.

At fifty-four, Fuji kept in shape. Small of build and a quick thinker, he headed maintenance, an important position on any campus and one that faculty and students rarely considered.

“We can offer you some cookies but no stove.” She smiled.

“I’m here to hook up the generator. You know to cut the circuit breakers and—”