The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon: A Cats in Trouble Mystery (9 page)

Now she was trying to make me feel guilty. I wanted to scream with frustration. Instead I repeated, “I don’t know anything more.” To myself I added,
Because you, Lydia, aren’t the one who holds the key to him leaving the police station. It’s Candace.

“Back to my earlier question. How did Tom get so banged up? Was he in the Prius when it crashed?” she said.

I wanted to thunk myself on the forehead with my palm. Of course. Candace and Lydia could be assuming his injuries came from being in the car with Nolan when it crashed. “You’re an expert at seeing folks who’ve suffered injuries. Did his face look like he’d been in a wreck, Lydia?”

She sat straight up and leaned toward me, realization brightening her face. “No. Absolutely not. For once we’re on the same page. Now that I think about it, his face looked like he’d been in a fight, not in any car accident.”

“But Candace wants to hear what happened directly from him. Makes sense to me,” I said. “Could be he’s helping her piece evidence together and it’s taking longer than you expected.”

She pointed at me again. “You
know
something. Why won’t you help me help Tom?”

For once her instincts were right. I knew about a troubled, sleeping eighteen-year-old in my guest room. What I didn’t know was if he was somehow connected to Roth’s death. And I wasn’t about to speculate on that with Lydia Monk. Fortunately, Merlot ambled in from the hallway, probably having grown tired of waiting outside the guest room door for the dog to reappear.

Lydia threw up her hands in disgust. “Oh, for crying out loud, here’s the other cat. I have got to get out of this… this cattery.” She stood. “I hope you can sleep tonight knowing you refused to help a good and decent man who is supposed to be your friend.”

She stood and took a wide path around Merlot since he had stopped and was staring up at her, his big tail twitching at the tip.

“Bye, Lydia,” I called after her.

She responded by slamming my front door after she went out.

I’d left my phone in the bedroom when I’d undressed earlier. I picked up Chablis and went to my room, the other two cats beating a path ahead of me. They were ready to settle down for the night.

I sat cross-legged on my bed and dialed Candace. Her phone went straight to voice mail. Since I knew Tom didn’t have a phone, I decided to call the Mercy Police Station.

B. J. Harrington, a part-time dispatcher, answered.

“Hi, B.J., it’s Jillian,” I said.

“Hey, Mrs. Hart. You got a problem over at the lake?” He sounded concerned.

Such a sweet kid,
I thought. “No problems,” I replied. “I’d like to talk to Candace, if she’s still there.”

“Oh, she’s here. Everyone the city council hasn’t laid off is here.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “There’s been a murder.”

“I heard, which is kind of why I wanted to talk to her,” I said.

“You know something about this case?” he said.

“I don’t know anything directly. I just need to talk to Candace as soon as possible.”

“Sounds like you
do
know something,” he said.

“You practicing what you’re learning in those criminology classes on me now?” I said with a laugh—though I’d never felt less like laughing in my life.

“Guess I am. Sorry, Mrs. Hart, but I can’t interrupt Deputy Carson’s interview. She’s been collecting evidence, trying to find witnesses and has been talking to Tom. She’d have me for lunch if I stuck my head in the interview room.”

“You’re right. Candace might get upset,” I said. “Is Chief Baca there, too?” I asked. “Maybe he could—”

“He’s in the room with Tom, too. I can have one of them phone you back. How’s that?”

“Sure,” I said. “Have Candace call me when she’s free.”

I disconnected, feeling disappointed. All three cats had settled on their cat quilts at the foot of my bed. But Syrah lifted his head and looked at me when I just sat there, phone in hand.

“How will I ever get any sleep? Tom’s been hurt and must be exhausted. He should be home by now,” I said.

Syrah stood, stretched and walked over to me. He rubbed his head against my knee and then sat and meowed quietly, as if telling me everything would be okay.

As I stroked Syrah’s silky coat, I considered getting in my van and driving to the police station. Then reconsidered. Tom wouldn’t want that. He would want me to stay with Finn.

I turned off the light and slipped under my winter quilt.

Sleep would not come. After an hour of tossing and turning, I took the flashlight from my bedside stand and got up. The cats didn’t budge. This had been a long day for them and they were sleeping soundly, but they would probably wake within minutes of me leaving them. I made sure to close my bedroom door so they wouldn’t follow me.

I went to the guest room. Though Finn had appeared to feel much better when he turned in, I wanted to make sure he was okay. I slowly turned the knob and immediately Yoshi barked.

“It’s me, Yoshi,” I whispered through the small opening in the door.

Seconds later, his muzzle appeared in the crack. I knelt and petted him, whispering for him to stay quiet. I opened the door wider and, keeping the flashlight trained on the floor, I peered into the room.

Finn apparently hadn’t heard the dog because he was snoring softly.

He seemed comfortable and at peace. The only way I could help Tom was to make sure someone he loved was safe—at least for now.

Nine

After a fitful night’s sleep, the sound of my cell phone woke me at seven a.m. It was Candace. Before I could say more than hello, she told me she was on the way to my house and disconnected. She sounded abrupt, to say the least. My guess was, she was tired, too.

Since Mercy is small enough that the longest drive is about five minutes from one place to the next, she’d be here soon. I got up, splashed water on my face and changed into jeans and a rose-colored henley T-shirt.

The cats had already left my room. Dawn and dusk are the busy times for felines. I wondered if they’d been sticking their paws under the guest room door to bother Yoshi. More likely, however, they were sitting by various windows, checking out birds and squirrels and anything else on the move outdoors. That’s how they usually began their day, and nothing was as important as routine in their animal world.

As I walked down the hall I heard Yoshi whining and guessed he needed to go outside. I cracked the door and he squeezed out into the hall and took off. I checked on Finn and he was still sleeping. I shut the door and hurried after the dog before he and the cats got into a fracas.

But Yoshi made a beeline for the back door and was doing his jack-in-the-box thing as when I’d first seen him on the side of the road. Merlot and Syrah sat outside the utility room door observing his actions with interest. Though cats can jump up to seven times their height with ease, they don’t bother unless their life is in danger or they’re playing with feathery objects. A cat’s philosophy is this: Why expend energy if not absolutely necessary?

I attached Yoshi’s leash, disabled the security alarm and the dog nearly dragged me down the porch steps and out to the backyard. The temperature was maybe in the high forties and I shivered while Yoshi lifted his leg on the first white oak he came to. After his urgent need was satisfied, he stood like a statue, his stubby tail wiggling, his nose busy sniffing the air.

The lake was still, the rising sun spreading shimmering autumn hues across the glassy surface. I started walking him down my sloping back lawn toward the lake, but about halfway to the shore, Yoshi stopped and started to bark repeatedly. At first, I thought he’d seen something I hadn’t. Then I realized his frenzy seemed to be directed at the water. Maybe he’d never seen a lake before.

“Not sure about big water, huh?” I said.

He answered by barking again. Since sound carried well to the nearby houses, I decided to take Yoshi inside before he woke the neighbors.

I’d just reached the back steps when Candace arrived. She wore her uniform and her ash-blond hair was pulled back and twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck. Then, rounding the house, I saw a tired-looking Tom as well as Liam Brennan, the assistant county DA. I smiled, glad to see all my friends, even if they looked worse for wear than I felt. “Hey there,” I said. Yoshi started barking at the new arrivals.

Candace turned to Tom. “This is the dog, huh? Very cute, but I’ve had some bad experiences with dogs. They don’t always like cops. Does he bite?”

Tom said, “I haven’t had a chance to find out. I’ve been visiting with you since around dusk yesterday.” He looked at me, and though he was tired the last time I saw him, now his whole body seemed weighed down by fatigue.

Yoshi barked again, probably not wanting to be ignored.

“You sure he’s okay with a uniform around?” Candace said to me.

“He’s been fine so far, and despite the uniform, you don’t give off a menacing vibe,” I said. “I wouldn’t worry.”

Liam said, “Since we’ve determined this fierce beast is probably no threat, can we go inside?”

“Most certainly. Chilly morning,” I said.

They followed Yoshi and me into my kitchen.

Syrah swiped at Yoshi’s muzzle as we passed the cats, but the dog didn’t seem bothered. In fact, his little tail wagged. As soon as Chablis saw Yoshi, she took off so fast tufts of her champagne-colored fur fluttered in her wake. Yoshi strained against the leash, wanting to give chase. The other two cats didn’t budge, staring at the dog with inscrutable faces.

I offered the leash to Candace. “Make friends by hanging on to this guy while I make coffee, okay?”

Candace took the leash with some hesitation. “You’re sure he won’t bite?”

“He’s not the aggressive type—unless you were to mess with a kid he loves dearly. And Finn’s asleep.” I glanced at Tom. “Candace knows about the dog, so I’m assuming she knows about Finn.”

Tom nodded solemnly. “She knows.”

“She
finally
knows,” Liam said. “Been a long night, Jillian. Sorry to start your day so early—but we need to talk to Finn.” Liam Brennan’s eyes seemed weary, too. He and Kara were dating, so he’d spent quite a bit of time in my house over the previous months. I’d come to like him. He was as passionate about the law as Candace was about evidence.

Candace said, “Liam wants to be here when I speak with Finn. Not the assistant DA’s usual duty, but we’re kinda short on the force with all the budget cuts.”

“Where’s Morris?” I asked, unsure her partner’s absence was the entire reason Liam was here. Substituting a lawyer for a police officer didn’t make sense to me.

“He had to take the day off or be paid overtime.” Candace rolled her eyes. “Wouldn’t want the city council to hear about us
wasting resources
. Can you get Finn to come out here, Jillian?”

“Could we let him sleep a little longer?” I looked at Tom, who had knelt and was scratching Yoshi behind the ears. “See, he suffered a concussion. He could use the rest.”

“You got him to a doctor, then?” he said. “Will he be okay? Is there anything else we should do for him?”

As I poured ground beans into a filter and made the coffee, I explained to the three of them about the doctor’s diagnosis and Finn’s memory loss.

“Tom said Finn didn’t seem like himself—that is, after I got him talking. If I learned anything last night, it’s that Tom is protective of those he loves,” Candace said.

“Hey,” Tom said. “You kept me hanging around while you booked evidence and went over witness statements. Can you blame me for not being all that cooperative right away?”

Candace led the dog around the counter and took a seat at the breakfast bar. “Let’s say it was a long night for all of us.”

Tom smiled at her. “I did grab a nap while I waited on you, and I know you didn’t have the luxury of even a few minutes’ rest.” He opened the fridge. “I am starving. Got any eggs?”

“I have bread, yogurt, peanut butter and some bananas I put in the freezer before I left town,” I said, while Liam and I pulled mugs from the cupboard. “I haven’t had time to visit the Piggly Wiggly since I came home.”

“I haven’t eaten, either,” Liam said, meeting Tom at the pantry.

Soon they were making breakfast for all of us with what few items I had to offer. While they were doing this, I joined Candace as the coffee brewed.

She said, “You managed to locate Tom after we talked at Belle’s and yet I never heard from you. Were you too busy helping the kid to call?”

“Once I knew Finn would be okay, I had to get him settled in here. Then I tried to reach you,” I said. “When I couldn’t get you on your cell, I talked to B.J. at the station and left a message for you to call me. When you didn’t phone, I figured you were busy.”

“B.J. never told me,” she said. “We kept him late answering calls and he got pretty frazzled—had an early class this morning and was afraid I’d keep him all night. He practically ran out the door when I finally realized he needed to go home. My bad.”

“I did call the station late, though. There’s a reason, too,” I said. “See, I had a little visit from Lydia last night. Of course, you understand it wasn’t exactly a friendly visit. She tried to pressure me into telling her things she seemed to think I knew.”

Candace closed her eyes. “That woman. What is
wrong
with her? Doesn’t she know she’s a coroner and not a cop?”

“Good question, one I’m not sure will ever be answered,” I said. “She told me about the murder, about Tom having to hang around the police station. She made it sound like you were about to arrest him for murder.”

“Typical Lydia drama,” she said. “Still, a man is dead—brutally murdered. He was found in Tom’s car and Tom didn’t like the guy one bit. I was concerned where the evidence would lead me, as you can surely understand. I get it that Nolan Roth wasn’t exactly an upstanding citizen, but he deserves the same justice everyone else is entitled to. I’m counting on you, on Tom, on Liam and even on this kid to help us get this thing solved. That is if Finn is who Tom thinks he is—the greatest young man who’s ever walked the earth. Are you with me? Will you help me get the truth?”