Murder by Christmas (Edna Davies mysteries) (6 page)

Edna considered his words for a minute before nodding. “You’re right. We can’t keep this from her entirely. From what Carol has told me, her grandmother sometimes putters in that kitchen until midnight or later and then goes upstairs to read in bed for another hour or so. She might have seen or heard something. We’ll have to wait a bit before we go over there, though. Because she stays up so late, she sleeps in. I don’t think we should bother her until lunchtime, at the earliest.”

As she spoke, Edna looked up at the wall clock. “Oh dear, I didn’t realize it was so late. Mary will be here any minute. We’re going over to CATS. You know as well as I that if anyone has been riding a bicycle along this road, Miss Nosy-Parker will have seen him … or her.” Edna smiled at the thought of her curious and eccentric neighbor as she scooped up the coffee cups and muffin basket from the kitchen table and put them on the counter. Turning to Charlie, she motioned him toward the front hall. “Before she gets here, let me show you where the outside Christmas lights are and what I have in mind for decorating the yew trees.”

They were standing at the edge of the driveway, studying the eaves, when Mary pulled up in her green ragtop Jeep.

“Whatcha doin’?” she asked, jumping out and striding over to stand beside them. She looked up at the roof to see what might be of interest.

“Hi-ya, Mary,” Charlie greeted. “We’re just checking to see if the chimney’s big enough for Santa’s visit.”

She laughed and punched him playfully on the arm. “Go on.”

Edna, reminded of time passing before the jolly man’s journey, interrupted the bantering. “Lights on the yew trees will be enough decoration for the outside, but if you have time, a string along the eaves would be nice. I’ll hang a wreath on the door, but I haven’t bought it yet.”

Charlie said, “I’m proposing a sleigh and a few reindeer on the roof. What do you think, Mary?”

“That’s too involved,” Edna said, uncertain as to whether Charlie was teasing or not. “Keep it simple. We still have to get a tree and decorate inside the house.”

Mary, looking from one to the other, opened her mouth to speak, but Edna went on quickly, saying to Charlie, “Why don’t you tell Mary about your mysterious bicyclist while I run in and get my pocketbook.”

“Nope.” Mary was shaking her head at Charlie when Edna returned. “I’ll keep my eye out, though. You ready, Edna?”

Surprised but relieved that Mary didn’t seem inclined to hang around talking “cops and robbers” with the detective, Edna turned to him. “Do you need anything else from me before I go? We shouldn’t be more than an hour.” She raised questioning eyebrows at Mary to confirm her statement.

“That’s right. I don’t spend more than that at CATS or Laurel would have me cleanin’ her house and buyin’ the groceries.”

Edna’s final words to Charlie as she climbed into the Jeep were a reminder. “Keep it simple, please.” As they pulled away from the house, she spotted him in the side-view mirror. Grinning broadly, he was pulling a cell phone from his pocket.

Chapter 6

Once they were on their way, Edna tried to force the idea of someone spying on the neighborhood to the back of her mind. On a bicycle, no less. Absurd. She almost laughed aloud thinking of a hit man pedaling away from a crime scene, but less than a year ago, she had come face-to-face with the last villain to show up in the area and knew it was no laughing matter. Concentrating her attention on the upcoming visit to CATS, she wondered again why she had volunteered to accompany Mary on such a seemingly hopeless mission.

Albert’s always accusing me of being a soft touch. Perhaps he’s right and I have to learn to say “No” more often. Too late this time.

Aloud she said, “Tell me more about Laurel. If we’re to persuade her to give Bethany her job back, I would like to know as much about the woman as possible. You’ve already told me what a flirt she is--something I saw for myself yesterday morning,” she added, remembering the woman clinging onto Jake’s arm. “Do you suppose she learns that sort of behavior in the assertiveness training class?”

Mary shook her head. “Not the classes I’ve been to. Probably her own interpretation, if you ask me.”

Edna tucked another piece of information about her neighbor to the back of her mind, promising herself she’d ask Mary about her assertiveness class experience one day. For the moment, she wanted to know about the person they were on their way to visit. “I get the impression that she pinches her pennies, makes a dreadful pot of tea, and hasn’t been in the business of rescuing cats for very long. Since this past summer?”

“That’s right.” Mary glanced briefly at Edna before returning her eyes to the road. There were few cars out that morning, but she was a careful driver who also paid constant attention to the side and rear-view mirrors. “Here’s what I know,” she began and then launched into what, for Mary, was a long speech.

“Laurel bought the house last summer when she moved here from somewhere in the Midwest. The day she moved in, she found three cats hiding in the basement. Previous owners were gone by then, but they’d left food and water, so Laurel knew the cats had been left intentionally. Right after that, she discovered a stray living under the back porch.”

“Had she run an animal shelter before moving to this area?” Edna was curious as to how someone chose an occupation.

Mary shook her head. “She told me with all the cats around, the idea popped into her head. Said she found out it didn’t cost much to start up, so she thought it might be a way to pay her monthly bills. I get the feeling she has money and is careful how she spends it.

“She got to know Jake and Roselyn when she took the cats to their clinic to be checked over.  Since Laurel was new to town and getting established, Jake didn’t charge her for his initial services. I think she’s been taking advantage of his generosity ever since, and that might also be another reason why she decided to turn her house into a shelter. She takes in strays or cats whose owners can’t or won’t keep them any longer. Strays she gets for free, of course, but she charges people who want to find another home for a family pet. Small amount, but she does get something.”

“I suppose that’s reasonable,” Edna said. “She must have to pay for food and veterinary care.”

“She might have an occasional charge for Jake’s time or for a prescription, but Roselyn stops in at CATS whenever she has some spare time from the clinic, usually once or twice a week. If there’re any newcomers, she checks them over first to see if they might need Jake’s expertise. She doesn’t charge Laurel anything and sometimes even brings her free medical samples. Laurel’s adoption fees are really low, but I found out that she pads the cost with veterinary expenses, even if the cat didn’t need any special care. Seems people will object to paying almost any adoption fee, but won’t blink an eye over a vet item.”

“Sounds like she’s got quite a little business going. It
is
nice that the cats eventually find homes, though. I guess she needs to make money somehow and if Roselyn doesn’t mind …” She was about to say more, but at that moment, Mary slammed on the brakes, pitching Edna forward.

They had reached an intersection in the middle of town, and although the traffic light was green, Mary came to a dead stop. “You okay?” She turned to Edna, shouting to be heard above the growing racket.

Edna had thrown up her hands, grabbing hold of the dashboard in an instinctive reaction, but the seat belt had saved her from any harm. Only a little shaken, she nodded to reassure Mary and looked up to see an old, battered pickup truck lurching and sputtering its way across their path. Smoke billowed from the tail pipe as the vehicle crawled through the intersection, a gray-haired, grizzled old man bent over the steering wheel, eyes intense and fixed straight ahead. Edna remembered the noise she’d heard the evening before about the time Diane and her family arrived for supper.

She looked up at the green traffic light and then over at Mary, raising her eyebrows in silent question, since she probably couldn’t have been heard above the noise. Fortunately, there were no other cars in sight.

 Mary wasn’t looking at Edna. She was grinning as she watched the ancient truck cross in front of them and disappear down the side street. When the noise had abated enough so she could be heard, she said, “Codfish” and remained at the light that was now red in their direction.

“Codfish?” Edna queried. A memory came back to her as soon as the word was out of her mouth. “You mean that was Codfish McKale? Aleda Sharp’s hit-and-run victim from last year?”

“Yep. I’m sorry she felt her family had to leave town, and in such a hurry, but I’m sure glad Gran and Carol bought the house. They’re nice.” The traffic light turned green and Mary drove forward.

“Speaking of Carol, she stopped by last night.” And for the remainder of the trip through town and into older residential sections, Edna filled Mary in on their neighbor’s trip to Chicago. She finished with her idea to have Gran, Mary and Charlie over for munchies, mulled wine and tree trimming as soon as Charlie could help her pick up a tree. “I’ll be happy to feed everyone in exchange for help in getting my house decorated. That’s one of the more time-consuming tasks on my to-do list.”

“Sure, I’ll be glad to help. Sounds like fun. Can Hank and Spot come, too?”

“Of course. Benjamin will have a few treats to share with them, I suspect.”

Mary chuckled. “They’ll like that.” She glanced at Edna. “Hey … why don’t we go get your tree when we finish at Laurel’s, before we head back home?”

Edna didn’t have a chance to answer. Mary again hit the brakes, forcing her passenger against the seat belt once more.

“I wish you’d quit doing that,” Edna complained, but Mary wasn’t listening.

“Wonder who that is?” Apparently distracted by their conversation, she had swerved into the driveway that ran beside a gingerbread-adorned house without looking and had nearly rear-ended a car already parked there. The driver had left little room for another vehicle. “Could’ve pulled up farther,” Mary muttered, backing into the street and parking along the roadside shoulder.

The driveway at the side of the house led to a single-car garage at the back of the property, so there was room for several cars to park bumper-to-bumper. The bright blue compact currently in the drive wasn’t very big. Mary was right, the owner could have left room for another vehicle. Apropos to nothing, Edna noticed that the last two digits of the license plate were thirty-two, her younger son’s age.

“Maybe the person isn’t staying long and didn’t want to get blocked in,” she suggested, trying to smooth Mary’s ruffled feathers.

The two women left the Jeep, crossed a narrow strip of lawn and trudged up the railed steps to a wide, wooden porch. Edna, ahead of Mary, was about to ring the bell when the front door burst open and a woman staggered out backwards.

“You’ll be sorry. You’ll see,” she said. Her voice wasn’t loud, and the words came out like the hiss of a coiled snake. Spinning around, she bumped into Edna, causing her to stumble back into Mary.

The woman, dressed in a long, black wool coat and knit cap, clutched a black handbag in gloved fingers. She backed up a step in surprise, pausing for only a second before brushing wordlessly past the two women. Clearly upset, she raced toward the blue car, started the engine and reversed into the street. It was only then that she stopped to glare for several heartbeats before throwing the transmission into gear and speeding off, tires screeching. Edna and Mary, left on the porch, could only stare, stunned and gaping.

“Wow. What was that all about?” Mary’s question brought Edna out of her stupor.

“Nothing to worry over,” Laurel stood in the doorway and answered with a shrug as she looked after the quickly disappearing vehicle. Her smug expression turned to a smile of greeting as she turned to her new visitors. “How nice to see you again,” she said to Edna before nodding at Mary, as if nothing unusual had happened. “You’re just in time to help me put up some last-minute decorations. Jake will be here soon to take some Santa pictures and I want everything in place.” She whirled on her heel and hurried back into the house, obviously expecting them to follow. “I’ll put the kettle on. The tea can steep while we work.”

She disappeared down a narrow hall while Edna and Mary stopped to hang their coats on a free-standing rack in the corner behind the front door. The house seemed lopsided to Edna. All the rooms were on the left as she stood looking down the hall into the kitchen. The wall to her right had only one window. It overlooked the driveway and was nearly hidden by the coats on the rack. A straight-backed wooden chair rested against the wall, convenient for sitting to remove or don boots. Narrow stairs, running parallel to the hall, led to rooms above. To her immediate left was a closed door.

Interrupting Edna’s examination of the surroundings, Mary moved to open the door and entered a good-sized living room.

“Hey, Edna. Look at this,” she called just as Laurel reappeared from the back of the house.

“The tea’s brewing. We’ll have a cup when we’re through,” she said and motioned for Edna to precede her into the room where Mary was now gazing in wonder.

A six-foot tree, standing in front of a broad window, was covered with cat decorations of all descriptions. Edna spotted a red Christmas ball in the shape of a cat’s head. She laughed delightedly at a miniature porcelain cat sitting inside a teacup hanging by its handle. She was amazed and enchanted with the number and variety of feline themes displayed among the branches. The usual string of multi-colored lights was wound around the tree, as well as a homemade string of popcorn.

She might have studied the tree for several more minutes had it not been for something rubbing against her leg. She looked down to see a small white cat dusting the bottom of Edna’s black wool slacks with its fur. Chuckling, she bent to scratch its ears. “Do you smell Benjamin on me, pretty one,” she cooed.

“She can’t hear you. That one’s deaf,” Laurel said. She’d crossed to a card table set up at the back of the room and stacked with several boxes of Christmas ornaments. Wide strips of red ribbon with greeting cards attached hung off one side of the table. She picked up a box of silver and gold glass balls before coming back to stand beside Edna next to the tree. “Pure white cats with blue eyes are always deaf. Did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.” Edna bent to pick up the cat, since it appeared to be affectionate and not at all leery of her. “Why is that?”

The woman shrugged. “It has something to do with the gene that gives the eyes their blue color. I looked it up on Wikipedia--you know, the computer site that has answers to everything. They say a cat with one blue and one brown eye will be deaf only on the side with the blue eye. Isn’t that weird?” Before Edna could reply, Laurel nodded toward the cat. “She’s not up for adoption. She gets scared if she thinks she’s alone, prowls the house yowling for company. I have two other cats who seem to know what she needs, and they take pretty good care of her.”

Edna was thinking how much nicer Laurel seemed when she was talking about her animals and not acting like a teenaged flirt. Before she could dwell on how complex the woman seemed, Mary spoke up.

“Black cats are the hardest to adopt out. Isn’t that right?” She walked over to the other two ladies, holding a sleek, short-haired black cat in her arms. She leaned toward Edna so the white and black felines could touch noses.

“The white one’s name is Snowflake and the black one’s Charcoal. Auntie Bea is upstairs. I’ve put her in the room with a little calico kitten I got recently. Auntie Bea’s my old female and mothers the rest of them, especially the new ones. Something about her seems to make other cats accept her immediately. I’m fortunate to have her. Makes introducing new cats into the house a whole lot easier than it would be ordinarily.”

“Why are blacks hard to place?” Edna was curious about Mary’s comment.

“Superstitious nonsense,” Mary said with a scowl. “Unfortunately, it’s the cats who suffer.”

Laurel reached out to stroke Charcoal. “Some shelters won’t allow anyone to adopt a black for the entire month of October. It’s tragic, but some people are abusive at Halloween.”

“I suppose it’s because black cats have been associated with witchcraft for centuries,” Edna said, giving Snowflake a final gentle hug before putting her down.