Cat of the Century (26 page)

S
pring finally decided to arrive in central Virginia on Friday, April 17. The redbuds opened, as did the native dogwoods. The imported dogwoods would take longer to open. The daffodils shone yellow, the tulips had yet to reveal their colors, but in another week, if the weather held, they, too, would be in full bloom.

The service for Terri Kincaid was held at the Lutheran church, with the Reverend Herbert Jones performing the Service for the Dead. Organizing the service had fallen to Inez and Liz Filmore, since Terri’s parents, who were divorced, behaved with the immaturity so often associated with people who can’t put anything above their own emotional response. Her mother, Alantra—a name she herself had chosen at age forty—did claim the body. Her father, Jason, cried, pouted, but attended the service. Alantra wouldn’t come, because Jason was going to be there.

This unseemly arguing had swirled for three days after Terri’s body was found. Finally, Inez lowered the boom, making arrangements without consent of either parent. Terri, a graduate of William Woods, then the Darden School of Business, had been part of the community for ten years.

The church, half full, lent a peacefulness to the proceedings.

Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, Elocution, Cazenovia, and Lucy Fur—the latter three being Herb’s cats—sat in the balcony with the organist.

Terri’s ex-boyfriend, Bob Ostler, seemed genuinely sad. At this point in her life, Coop trusted her instincts when it came to possible murderers. She didn’t think Bob had killed Terri. That didn’t mean Cooper wouldn’t keep her eye on the young man.

Apart from Liz and Tim Filmore, the person who seemed most genuinely distressed by Terri’s passing was Garvey Watson. Sitting with his wife, he continued to wipe his eyes with a linen handkerchief. She held his hand throughout.

A small reception followed the service.

Pewter made a special point to sit under the table, where ham biscuits were piled on a plate above her.

Inez, Aunt Tally, Big Mim, Little Mim, and Blair paid their respects to Jason Kincaid.

Harry, having done so, sat with Garvey and Lila, his wife.

Fair was talking with Jim Sanburne, Big Mim’s husband, the mayor of Crozet.

“Harry, thank you for being so kind,” Garvey said.

“Garvey, I didn’t do anything.”

Lila, a bit plump but still quite attractive in her late sixties, said, “You called, then came by. He was so terribly upset. Just seeing friends helped him.”

“It was an awful shock.” Harry did what any friend or even an acquaintance would do. “I heard that Liz is the executrix. Terri didn’t trust either of her parents.”

“Small wonder,” Lila replied curtly.

“Most people don’t draw up a will in their thirties.”

“Garvey pushed her on that.” Lila never missed an opportunity to reveal her husband’s foresight and involvement, because he never would himself.

“Now, now, Lila.” His soft voice interrupted what would have become a torrent of praise. “She owned the store, and she had to consider things in a different light. She knew her parents would fight over anything, which is why she finally agreed. Running a business can make one grow up fast.”

“Well, she would have dragged her heels without you.” Lila looked at Harry. “He even helped her select some lines of earthenware, the
wonderful stuff from Provence. They’re—I mean, they were—her biggest sellers. No one has an eye like Garvey’s.”

“That’s true. My husband loved the sweater, by the way.”

“Ah.” A small smile played over Garvey’s lips.

“This is out of the blue, but maybe we should talk to Liz before she dismantles Terri’s store.” Harry thought out loud. “She did carry beautiful things. Surely there’s someone who could step in. Seems terrible for her efforts to evaporate.”

“That’s a thought.” Garvey’s eyebrows twitched inward for a moment.

When Liz and Tim came over, Garvey brought up Harry’s idea, and Liz liked it.

Harry had finally reached the little buffet by that time.

Pewter, refusing to be dislodged from under the table, knew, just knew, that some morsel would fall to her claws.

Tucker, not particularly hungry at this moment, wandered through the small gathering. She stopped by Garvey, Lila, and Liz, then moved back to Mrs. Murphy, who was seated on a bench along with the three Lutheran cats.

“Smelled that odor again,”
Tucker informed the four felines.

“What?”
Mrs. Murphy didn’t know which odor, since Tucker commented on so many.

“Remember when Liz and Terri came to our kitchen? I thought I detected fear. Maybe it was underneath, but now I think this is something different. It’s bitter. I smell it on Liz.”

“Wonder what it means?”
Lucy Fur rubbed her ear with her front paw.

“I don’t know. I’m pretty good at identifying human scents. I’ve never smelled this. Fear has a kind of bitter, sharp tang, but this is really bitter.”
The dog, puzzled, sat down.

Aunt Tally, lingering over the water chestnuts wrapped in bacon, plucked one by the plastic-sword toothpick. “It’s not a coincidence.”

Big Mim and Inez also reached for the delicious little morsels.

“Are you listening to me?” The centenarian placed the toothpick on a tray used for that purpose.

“We are,” Big Mim replied soothingly.

Liz came up, selecting some thin wedges of toast with asparagus
spears and brie on top. “It’s always good to see you all, even if the circumstances are sad.”

“Thank you,” Inez said with a nod.

Aunt Tally revved her engines again. “Liz, it’s no coincidence that Terri was found where Ralston Peavey was found. There has to be a connection. Maybe Terri was distantly related. Maybe she provoked the original killer.”

“She’s not related. Everybody knows everybody when it comes to that. There are no secrets.” Big Mim sounded forceful.

“There’s one now,” Aunt Tally shot back.

“It could be possible.” Liz sighed. “Anything is possible.”

“Well, I am going to find out if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Oh, Miss Urquhart, don’t say that.” Liz’s face showed concern.

“I’ll outlive all of you.” Aunt Tally thumped her cane on the floor, then moved off.

Big Mim, uncharacteristic for her, blurted out, “Sometimes I’m afraid she will, sometimes I’m afraid she won’t.”

O
n April 21, Tuesday, the weather remained mild. Harry was driving Inez down to Barracks Road at one in the afternoon after a morning of chores. Now that the weather cooperated, so much needed to be done—fields limed, seeds planted, grapevines checked, sunflowers planted after the soil was turned. The list made Harry dizzy. However, she couldn’t allow Inez to drive by herself. The two cats and two dogs reposed in the back of the Volvo. Harry already wondered how she ever lived without the wagon.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Inez, resolute, said, “Yes. Tally said she’d drop by. A few of Terri’s friends might come by, too. And Garvey’s next door. I’m sure he’ll help.”

“All right.” Harry changed the subject. “Did you sell your stocks? When was that—oh, April fifteenth. Black day when you mentioned selling them.”

“I told Liz to sell them. Luckily, my taxes aren’t too terrible. I need a new water heater at the house, so I might as well do it now.”

“I don’t know what’s worse, renting or buying. Renting, you build no equity. Owning means it’s one damned thing after another.” She switched subjects again. “Inez, tell me how Cabinet officers get a slap on the wrist and can repay what they ‘overlooked’? Had it been you or I, the IRS would have been down our throats.”

“How it is, Harry, is how it has always been: politics as usual.” Inez laughed. “I remember my father filling out his tax form. It was one sheet of paper.” She touched the heavy links of the gold chain bracelet on her right wrist. “I used to care. Now I don’t give a damn. One of the privileges of age. If the American public wants to be raped by Congress—and, remember, Congress is the branch with the power to tax and therefore destroy—so be it.”

“Leaves me in the lurch,” Harry replied ruefully.

“Fight back.” Inez’s voice raised up.

“We need a leader.”

“You need spine. Millions of you.” Inez cleared her throat. “This will get me in a bad mood. It’s good of Liz to come up; said it takes her only forty-five minutes from home. They’re near the University of Richmond, so she hops on 64.”

“Must have a lead foot.”

“Well, yes. Makes me glad that Tally doesn’t drive anymore. I swear her secret ambition was to be a Formula One driver. Scared the bejesus out of me many times. Maybe that’s why my heart is so strong. I had consistent aerobic workouts just sitting still.”

They both were laughing when Harry pulled into the north side of Barracks Road Shopping Center.

Harry knocked on the door of Terri’s store.

Garvey, eager to help, opened it. “Come on in.”

“What took you so long, Chickpea?” Aunt Tally barked.

“My fault. Not hers,” Harry said.

Liz, who had been in the office, stepped out. “Thank you for coming. I’ve asked Tina Hotchkiss, a friend of mine, to run the store until I can figure something out. Rushing will only backfire.”

“When does she start?” Harry inquired.

“This Friday. So the store will be open for the weekend.”

“What do you want us to do?” Inez asked.

“I came in last night and checked the inventory on Terri’s computer. So we’re up to date there. I think the only thing we need to do is dust and mop up a bit, and there were two deliveries today that we should go unpack.”

“I can do that,” Garvey volunteered.

Liz, taking charge again, said, “Inez and Tally, there should be an invoice slip inside those cartons. If Garvey gives them to you, you can check off the contents. If any items are damaged, there’s bound to be some paper that tells us how to return the goods or make a claim. Okay?”

“Okay.” Tally, with Doodles behind her, followed Garvey into the small storage room, which was quite neat.

Inez, Tucker, and Erno followed Doodles and Tally.

Mrs. Murphy and Pewter sat on the sales counter, enjoying watching Harry dust, while Liz, using a little Mop & Glo, brought up a shine on the floor.

“Aren’t these beautiful?” Garvey had pulled out the shredded newsprint along with the plastic peanuts in one carton to reveal large outdoor ceramic pots in various subtle glazes.

Another carton contained smaller pots, mostly of a dark-blue glaze or a lighter green, with large round cork stoppers sealed with wax along the edges. Garvey set them on the floor, then Inez and Aunt Tally counted them. The jars, ranging from pint size to quart size, were heavy.

In the front part of the store, Liz chatted while mopping.

“Must have been a slap in the face when Terri’s parents realized that, one, she’d made a will, and two, they weren’t in it. I was overcome when I learned from her lawyer that she’d left the store to me. Twenty percent of the net profits must go to William Woods.” Liz teared up. “I just can’t believe it.”

Harry, often a bit awkward when people became emotional, said sympathetically, “She knew you’d make a profit.” Then she changed the subject. “You’re doing a good job of mopping.”

“Thank you.”

As they chatted, Tucker, back in the storeroom, stuck her nose on one of the quart jars. Something in the wax drew her.

“What?”
Erno was curious.

“I can just catch a hint of something. Not the wax. It’s the smell I detected on Terri.”

“Maybe we can break the jar.”
Erno’s ears lifted up.

“I broke a big one once. Cost Mom a lot of money.”

“Maybe my mom or Tally will open it.”

“Good idea.”
Tucker whined, pushing the jar with her nose.

“That’s enough,” Inez said gently.

Erno started in, too.
“Come on, Mommy, open the jar.”

“Enough.” Inez was still gentle.

“Hey, Mrs. Murphy and Pewter, come in here.”

The cats responded.

“Better be good,”
Pewter said.

“Pat the jars with the cork sealed by wax,”
Tucker requested.