The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon: A Cats in Trouble Mystery (6 page)

Yoshi seemed determined not to let Finn out of his sight. Hostility had filled the space between Tom and his brother and probably brought out the protective instincts of this little dog.

When he passed Bob, Tom said, “Gather whatever crap you brought with you and get out of my house. And don’t you dare land at Mom’s place.”

Bob, still smiling, said, “Look at your face, Tom. Seems like you had a can of whoop ass explode all over you and it’s got you pissed off.”

To his credit, Tom ignored Bob. He knew we had more pressing issues than an uninvited guest.

Tom dropped the backpack inside the door, put both hands on Finn’s shoulders and guided him to the black leather sofa. “Take a load off, kid. You look tired.”

“I got this headache, man.” He sat and pressed his hands against his temples. Yoshi jumped on the couch next to him and began licking at what sure did seem like blood on Finn’s hands.

I knelt in front of Finn, hoping he’d make eye contact. That would sure be a good sign. “Can I check if you’re bleeding somewhere?”

He looked straight at me for the first time, but he was still squinting. “Huh?”

Yoshi’s full attention remained on Finn. Tom sat on the edge of the sofa on Finn’s other side, leaving the dog where he was. “We want to see your hands, okay? You could have a cut somewhere.”

The side of Finn’s right hand was smeared with blood, too, but I couldn’t see a cut or a scrape anywhere.

I looked up at Tom. “We need to get Finn checked out by a doctor. His headache could be—”

“She’s right. The kid doesn’t look so hot,” Bob said. “Hope it doesn’t have anything to do with this.” Bob had opened Finn’s backpack and was pointing at something inside.

Uh-oh,
I thought.
Drugs?
Drugs would explain Finn’s dazed behavior.

Tom said, “What makes you think you can mess with Finn’s stuff?”

“I don’t expect
you
to tell me what’s going on,” Bob said. “Figured I might find answers by myself. Is your former kid the reason you’re all beat up? The gun tells me maybe so.”

“Gun?” Worry filled Tom’s eyes as he looked at Finn. “You brought a gun with you?”

Finn started to shake his head but grimaced and stopped. “I don’t have a gun, Tom. All I’ve got is a headache.”

I stood. Finn was traveling alone, probably hitchhiking. Maybe he’d thought he needed a weapon. But now he couldn’t even recall bringing one with him.

I said, “Finn needs help. Maybe Marcy is off duty.” Marcy was a paramedic friend of ours. “She could check him out if you’re worried about taking him somewhere too… public.”

“Bet every paramedic in town is at the car wreck that just sent the cops racing out of here,” Bob said. “By the way, do I have you to thank for a visit from Mercy’s finest, Jillian?”

“Shut the hell up, Bob,” Tom said evenly. He seemed to be trying hard to be patient, but wasn’t succeeding. “This is none of your business.” He looked down at Finn. “You might need more than a paramedic.”

Tom walked over to where Bob was and, with his index finger looped through the trigger guard, he lifted a small gun from the backpack.

“Before we do anything else, I’ll lock this up.” He hurried past us through the small living room. I knew he kept a gun safe in his office.

Meanwhile, Finn was examining his hands, turning them over and back as if fascinated.

His behavior sure bothered me.

When Tom came back, I said, “He definitely needs to see a doctor.”

Tom nodded. “I’ll take him to the emergency room, say he’s a runaway. Maybe then I won’t have to give anyone his name.” He craned his neck so he could look at Finn’s face. “Can you forget your name for a while, son?”

Finn didn’t respond for several seconds. “There seems to be a few things I can’t remember. Guess I could lose my name, too.”

“Okay, good. We’re gonna get your headache fixed up.” He cupped Finn’s elbow to help him up, but Yoshi, who had been sitting quietly, growled.

Finn patted the dog’s head. “It’s okay, boy. He’s good.”

Yoshi seemed to settle with Finn’s touch and I held my hand out to the dog palm down. He sniffed at it briefly and I could see his small, muscular body relax even more. In a gentle tone, I said, “It’ll be fine, Yoshi. You can come, too.”

He stared at me and cocked his head. If dogs could smile, I’d just seen it happen.

I picked up the leash, deciding to handle Yoshi so Tom could help Finn. Just as I did, the sound of a cell phone playing the
William Tell Overture
blared from its spot on the end table beside the sofa.

Bob answered, remained quiet for a few seconds and then said, “Our missing man is right here. Talk to him yourself.” He held the phone out to Tom. “Deputy Candace Carson wants to speak to you in the worst way. Seems you’ve got every hot woman in town on your roster and I must say, your deputy friend is smokin’.”

Tom walked over and snatched the phone from Bob, his patience close to completely evaporated. “Tom here,” he said abruptly.

He listened intently and his expression grew troubled. I saw him glance at the backpack before he said, “Yes, I know him. You want me to come to the scene and confirm?” A few more seconds passed and he said, “I’m on my way.” He clicked off the phone and handed it back to Bob.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

Tom glanced down at Finn, who was now leaning back against the cushions looking groggier than ever. Yoshi’s head rested in his lap. Tom took my arm and turned us away from Finn. “Can I ask a huge favor?” he whispered.

“Whatever you need,” I said.

“Get Finn medical help. I don’t care how; just get him checked out. If you can avoid giving his name, that’s good, but I know you have to do this your way.”

“Sure. But what did Candace want?”

Tom stared at the floor. “She found my phone. Nolan had it.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “But you said something about identifying someone?”

“Nolan wrecked my car,” Tom said.

“Oh boy. Not good about your car, but it could be good in another way. They can arrest him for kidnapping and assaulting you. They can—”

“Damn hard to arrest a dead man.”

Six

Tom took off immediately in his work van without a word to Bob, the obviously unwelcome brother who showed no inclination to follow Tom’s earlier instructions to leave the premises.

As I helped Finn to his feet, I looked over at Bob and said, “If a woman named Hilary calls or comes by, I don’t think Tom would appreciate you telling her anything.”

Bob smiled. He always seemed to be smiling and it was getting on my last nerve.

He said, “I know Hilary. I won’t say anything about her kid being here.”

Finn peered at Bob. “Who are you?”

“You and I met once or twice a long time ago, Finn,” he said. “I won’t hold it against you that you don’t remember me. Go with the nice lady and get yourself fixed up.”

Bob knows Finn and Hilary. Makes sense, since Tom was married to Hilary. How much more of Tom’s past will spill out before the end of this very long day? Seems like years since I came back to town earlier today.

Making sense of Tom’s relationships with his family could wait. Right now, I had to help Finn. I took Yoshi by the leash and cupped the kid’s elbow with my other hand.

Bob held up the backpack. “Don’t forget this,” he said. “I saw a few treats for the dog in there.”

I grabbed it on our way out and slipped it over one shoulder. Even with the gun gone, the pack was still heavy. Seemed as if Finn brought along everything important to him when he made the journey here.

The night was unpleasantly cold, the first bite of winter snapping at us as I urged Finn into the backseat where he could lie down. I always have at least one quilt in my car and I covered him up. Yoshi whimpered as he settled alongside his best friend. I started the engine and turned on the heat.

Since taking Finn inside an emergency room with a dog in tow would be frowned upon, to say the least, I pulled out my phone and called Shawn Cuddahee for help. He and his wife, Allison, owned the Mercy Animal Sanctuary and had become my good friends. I was hoping Shawn could separate Yoshi and Finn with as little emotional trauma as possible.

Allison answered.

“What can I do for you, Jillian?” she asked.

I explained I needed a spot for a dog, hopefully just for overnight, because I had to take a young man to get medical treatment.

She said, “Oh no. I am so sorry. I’m not at the sanctuary. I’m getting help for a pregnant bulldog. They always have difficult labors and she’ll need a C-section. I’m at the vet clinic. Are you on the road already?”

“I will be in about thirty seconds. I guess I’ll have to leave the dog in my van when I take the kid in to see a doctor. It’s not terribly cold out and—”

“You heading to the hospital?” she asked.

“Too far. I think there’s a new emergency clinic about twenty miles north,” I said.

“You’re right. Just opened in a strip center near the interstate. Since you have no idea how long you’ll be, I’ll meet you in the parking lot and pick up the dog. Doc Jensen has the situation under control here.”

I put the phone on speaker and started to back up. “You already have an emergency of your own. I can call Kara if I get in a bind.”

“This happens all the time with bulldogs, so it’s not an emergency. I will meet you,” Allison said firmly. “See you soon, sweetie.” She disconnected.

On the drive out of town, I glanced in the rearview mirror every so often. Finn’s eyes were closed and Yoshi’s head rested on his arm. When I finally pulled into the small shopping center, I was surprised to find the lot nearly deserted. But a neon sign flashed
24 Hour Emergency Care
in the storefront at the far end. I saw Allison’s truck pull in right next to me when I parked. What timing.

Even with the heat on, the van was chilly. Good thing I had a quilt to cover Finn. All he wore for a jacket was his black hoodie. I wondered then if it was stained with blood, too. Impossible to tell.

I unlocked the van and Allison climbed into the front seat. With her eyes trained on Yoshi and Finn, she said, “You want me to take the dog to the sanctuary?”

“If you can,” I said.

She was staring at Yoshi with a kind but take-charge expression. I’d seen her work miracles with animals using that look.

“Who’s this?” she asked, never taking her eyes off the dog.

“Yoshi,” I said.

“Yoshi’s a rat terrier, I see,” Allison said. “This might be a challenge. Very possessive dogs.” She still smiled, still stared and kept her tone even.

“I need to get this kid inside.” I tried to keep the urgency I felt out of my voice, but wasn’t sure I succeeded.

“Hey, Yoshi,” Allison said. She reached her hand between the front seats. “Everything’s gonna be okay. Have a sniff, friend.”

Yoshi’s neck stretched and he smelled her hand. His ears flattened and he started to blink. He suddenly looked incredibly sad.

“I’m here to help you and Finn, baby,” she said. Then she thumped the side of her chest with her right hand. “Yoshi, come.”

Tail wagging, he wiggled between the seats and into Allison’s arms. “Jillian’s gonna take care of your friend and you’re gonna stay with me, baby.”

Yoshi started licking her face.
The Dog Whisperer’s got nothing on you, Allison,
I thought as I pushed the button to slide open the van’s side door.

“I think it might be better if we waited here,” Allison said cheerfully, her arms wrapped around Yoshi.

I left the van running and roused Finn who, thank goodness, was just asleep and not unconscious.

With my arm around his waist, I helped him through the emergency center door—an emergency room next door to a Subway. Never thought I’d see something like this.

Inside, a mother sat holding a flushed baby, but they were the only patients in the waiting area. The place had been open only a few weeks, as far as I knew. I was so glad we’d lucked out and wouldn’t have to wait too long.

When the young woman at the front desk saw me come in supporting Finn, she looked at him with concern and immediately told us to come through the double doors to my left.

A man in blue scrubs seemed to arrive out of nowhere once we passed through and he said, “I’ve got him.” He took my place supporting a wobbly Finn. “You can check him in, ma’am. Head injury, perhaps?”

I nodded.

He said, “I’ll begin his neurological assessment but we’ll need his medical history, so talk to the receptionist and—”

“I don’t know his medical history. He’s visiting me,” I said.

The man—Dr. Stanley, I read on the picture ID hanging around his neck—looked at Finn. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Finn,” he said.

“You got a last name?” the doctor asked.

“Hart,” I said, before he could answer. I could at least make this a little easier for Finn and Tom by keeping questions to a minimum.

Stanley turned his attention back to me. “Tell Regina at the front desk everything you know—including where we can reach a relative.” He was already assisting Finn into a curtained cubicle. A woman in pink scrubs came hurrying from another cubicle to help him.

“I am a relative,” I said. But to my own ears, the claim sounded hollow. Would anyone believe me?

Soon I was telling the light-skinned black woman who’d ushered me through those doors what little I knew. She had hazel eyes and a warm smile, but of course her main concern was who would be financially responsible.

That’s when I knew with certainty that to get this kid the care he needed, I would have to tell a few more lies. My stomach clenched at the thought and I remembered something my grandmother used to say: “A lie may take care of the present, but it has no future.” Such would be the case today. But still, I needed to aid a boy who’d trekked all the way from North Carolina to find Tom. I am an honest person, but honesty needed to be put aside, at least for now.

“His name is Finnian Hart,” I began. “We don’t have insurance. Can I pay with a credit card?”

Thirty minutes later, paperwork complete, I walked out to the van. I opened the driver’s-side door and saw Yoshi curled in Allison’s lap. He sat up, ears pricked, when he saw me.