Vanished in Cherry Hills (Cozy Cat Caper Mystery Book 4) (6 page)

Kat felt a lump in her throat. “And everybody thought it was my mother in those tapes.”

“One of the local cops, a friend of mine, he’d seen the footage. I guess he’d dealt with Maybelle before, when she was picked up for some drug charges. He mentioned how the woman in the tapes looked like her to his superiors, and I gather they ran with it.”

A sick feeling settled in Kat’s stomach. “And you didn’t correct them.”

Helen held up her hands. “What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t admit I was the one who robbed that bank. Nick needed me. If I went to prison, who would take care of him?”

Kat listed against the couch. “What did my mother do when she realized she was wanted for the robbery?”

Helen pursed her lips. “I guess that’s when she fled town. Can’t say I blame her. Your mama, I don’t want to speak poorly of her, but she didn’t have the best reputation. Nobody would have to be strong-armed into believing a person like her would resort to criminal behavior.”

Kat felt as if a knife had been shoved into her heart. She could only imagine the dilemma her mother had been put into then. After all, how well would the police have received a protest of innocence from a junkie who had already been deemed unfit to care for her own daughter?

Helen fingered her unfinished scarf. “Over the years I convinced myself that perhaps everything worked out for the best. Nick got the treatment he needed, and your mama got to escape the bad influences she was exposed to around here and start fresh.”

Kat’s eyes narrowed. “Except she left me behind.”

Helen looked at her, something Kat interpreted as pity reflected in her eyes. “Yes, you were perhaps the one who suffered the most. But can you honestly tell me you would have been better off being raised by a drug addict?”

“That’s not the point,” Kat spat. She realized her hands were shaking and slipped them between her knees. “You didn’t give her a choice.”

Helen’s face fell. “I know, and I’m truly sorry for that. But what could I do?”

“Start by making things right now.”

“How can I do that? It’s too late.”

“You can tell me where she is.”

Helen shook her head. “I can’t.”

“You owe me.”

“Yes, I owe you, but I can’t tell you where Maybelle went.” Helen’s gaze strayed across the room, where two cats had begun tussling. “I don’t know the answer. I never knew what happened to her. She just skipped town.”

Kat’s anger faded, giving way to the suffocating feeling that she wasn’t any closer to locating her mother than she had been three days ago.

“I’m sorry,” Helen said. “I really would help you find her if I could.”

Figuring there was nothing to gain from prolonging this visit, Kat moved Shadow aside and stood up, swallowing past the lump in her throat. “I guess I’ll take off then.”

Helen set her knitting on the floor and rose from her chair. She took a step forward as if to close the distance between them but then stopped herself. “I really wish I could help you.”

Kat looked at her, feeling every inch of the space between them. “I wish you could too.”

Helen twined her fingers together. “You mentioned not turning me in earlier.”

Kat nodded. “I’ll keep my word.”

“No.” Helen reached her hands out, but they fell back to her sides when Kat retreated. “I don’t want you to be burdened by this secret like I’ve been. Thirty years of silence is long enough. If it helps your search or eases your conscience, go ahead and tell. You have my blessing.”

The two women regarded each other for a long moment. Then Kat nodded once and let herself out.

Kat considered stopping by Cherry Hills Police Department headquarters after leaving Helen’s house. But, as anxious as she was to clear her mother’s name, she felt too emotionally drained to deal with the authorities. She could talk to Chief Kenny later, after she had more time to process Helen’s bombshell.

Instead, she drove straight home and spent the next few hours alternating between bouts of crying and angry cleaning fits. She thought Helen’s confession would offer some relief, but she didn’t feel any better than she had before. After all, knowing Maybelle hadn’t robbed that bank didn’t actually bring her back. She had still managed to vanish into thin air, and who knew if Kat would ever get to meet her.

She somehow made it through her evening waitressing shift at Jessie’s Diner. By the time she made it home, she was exhausted from engaging in so much small talk. Usually she enjoyed chatting with the restaurant patrons, but today her heart wasn’t in it.

Yet, despite being so weary, Kat soon discovered she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned, pausing occasionally to stroke Tom, who didn’t seem bothered by her restlessness. He merely adjusted positions whenever Kat started up with another thrashing bout.

No matter what she did, she couldn’t get comfortable. She couldn’t stop her mind from going back over every second of her visit to Helen’s. Occasionally she would attempt to mold their conversation into something more satisfying by tacking on a made-up ending, one where Helen handed over an address and phone number for Maybelle and broke down sobbing for Kat’s forgiveness.

Kat sighed, shaking the fantasy from her head for the hundredth time. Tom rolled over and pressed his back against her thigh. She rested her hand on his warm body, something inside her uncoiling. There really wasn’t anything as comforting as a cat.

She must have finally drifted off. When her doorbell jolted her awake, the morning sun was already shining through the window.

Wrapping a bathrobe around her pajamas and smoothing out her hair using her fingers, Kat padded to the front door. She peered through the peephole, stiffening when she spotted Mrs. Polanski’s face looming in front of her. She wasn’t in the mood to entertain Helen Trotter’s sister after Helen’s confession the day before.

Kat drew herself up and opened the door. “Hi, Mrs. Polanski. What are you doing here?”

“Jess gave me your address, and one of your neighbors let me into the building. I thought it would be better to talk to you in person than to call.” Mrs. Polanski smiled, but it was a more subdued version of the beaming grin that normally usurped her entire face. “Helen told me about your visit yesterday.”

Kat’s grip tightened around the doorknob. She didn’t know what to say to that.

Mrs. Polanski shifted her weight to her other foot. “May I come in?”

Kat considered telling her that she really needed to be alone right now, but relented when she saw the earnest look on Mrs. Polanski’s face. Nodding, she swung the door open and stepped aside.

Tom’s eyes lit up when he spotted their guest. He meowed a greeting, rushed over, and flopped onto the floor in front of them, holding his front legs above his head in order to expose his stomach.

Mrs. Polanski laughed as she reached down and scratched the big cat’s belly. “Well, aren’t you a friendly fella.”

“That’s Tom,” Kat told her, closing the door.

Kat couldn’t help but relax a little as she watched Tom basking in Mrs. Polanski’s attention. She could always trust Tom to cut the tension of an awkward situation.

After petting Tom for a minute, Mrs. Polanski straightened, her amused look fading into one of worry as her eyes drifted toward Kat. “I came to see how you were dealing with everything.”

Kat sat down on the sofa and twisted her hands in her lap. “As well as can be expected, I guess.”

Mrs. Polanski glanced at the empty couch across from Kat. “May I sit down?”

“Sure.”

Kat studied Mrs. Polanski as she settled into the sofa. Something in her expression spurred a tingling sensation in the back of Kat’s brain. She wasn’t sure why, but it reminded her of the look Mrs. Polanski had given Helen when the subject of PNW Financial had been brought up. Looking back, maybe the look didn’t reflect her belief in Maybelle’s guilt so much as her knowledge of Helen’s secret.

The possibility sent Kat’s mind reeling. Could it be that Mrs. Polanski had known about her sister’s crime all these years? The more Kat considered it, the more plausible it seemed. She could tell the two were close from the way they had their arms thrown around each other in that photograph, the pure joy reflected on their faces captured for the rest of eternity. And who better to hide your darkest secret than a trusted sibling?

Kat collapsed against the couch. Viewing Mrs. Polanski in such a shocking new light had drained every last ounce of strength from her body. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

Kat was surprised by the quick admission. She had feared she would need to pry whatever Mrs. Polanski knew out of her. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Mrs. Polanski crossed her ankles. “It wasn’t my place.”

Kat processed that. “Did you help her?”

Mrs. Polanski covered her chest with one hand. “Heavens, no. Helen didn’t even want to tell me what she did at first, but I can put two and two together. I might not be a genius, but I know my sister like the back of my hand.”

“Did you know she let one of her police officer friends believe my mother was guilty?”

Mrs. Polanski’s eyes dimmed. “I did.”

Kat had to ungrit her teeth in order to respond. “And you didn’t say anything.”

“How could I? Helen is my own flesh and blood.” Mrs. Polanski sighed. “I always felt guilty about that, you know. Remember all those milkshakes I used to give you on the house?”

Kat’s jaw dropped open. Her lungs suddenly felt too small. “You gave those to me out of guilt?”

“Yes. I’m sorry to say it, but I did.”

Before Kat could reply, Matty came sprinting into the room. The rambunctious feline vaulted on top of the coffee table, sending the folder of newspaper clippings skittering to the floor. She flattened her ears against her skull and wiggled her rear end before leaping into the center of the pile.

Kat jumped off the sofa. “Matty!”

Matty froze, her huge green eyes rotating toward Kat as her tail cut through the air.

Mrs. Polanski leaned forward. “Are those the articles I gave you?”

“Yes.” Kat plucked one off the floor and smoothed it out.

“Did you read through them all?”

“I did.” Kat grabbed a few more articles, trying to collect what she could before Matty destroyed them all.

Tom wandered over to see what the commotion was about, his tail puffed up to the size of a feather duster. He sniffed at the edge of one of the pages before extending a tentative paw.

Matty, however, wasn’t nearly so cautious. She slapped at one of the clippings as Kat tried to stack it with the others. Kat had to laugh at the look of determination in the feline’s eyes, but she cut herself off mid-chuckle. Although she was upset enough with Mrs. Polanski to not care if the cats ruined her newspaper collection, a part of her also didn’t want Mrs. Polanski thinking she didn’t appreciate her willingness to help.

“Give that to me, Matty.” Kat tried to lift her paw, but Matty resisted, digging her claws into the newsprint.

Kat’s eyes traveled down the length of Matty’s leg to where she had her toes planted in the center of Kelly Watson’s obituary, the one Mrs. Polanski had circled.

Matty released the obituary in order to pounce on some of the other clippings, running around in circles as she bounced from article to article. She seemed to get a kick out of the crinkling sound created by her activity. Either that or she enjoyed shocking Tom as he watched her with rounded eyes.

Kat glanced at Mrs. Polanski as she set the obituary on top of her makeshift pile. “Did you know Kelly Watson?”

Mrs. Polanski shook her head. “No, I did not.”

“You were friends with her parents?” Kat guessed.

“No, I didn’t know them either.”

Kat frowned. She was about to ask why Mrs. Polanski had saved the obituary in that case when she felt her gaze being drawn back to the write-up.

Her brain tingled as she stared at the faded outline of the hand-drawn circle around the succinct summary of Kelly Watson’s short life. Her mother would have been about twenty-seven back in 1985, the same age as Kelly.

Kat gripped the newspaper clipping in both hands and sat back down on the couch, her head spinning. Was it possible that her mother had stolen this woman’s identity? Stealing an existing identity would certainly be easier than establishing a fake social security number and everything else needed to live in the United States. She would only have to apply for a copy of the woman’s birth certificate, or have one forged, and use the dead woman’s information to obtain all the other documents she needed.

Kat looked up at Mrs. Polanski. Her mouth had gone dry, and she had to work to get her next question out. “Did you help my mother hide out?”

“You figured it out from the death announcement, didn’t you?” When Kat nodded, Mrs. Polanski leaned back, looking satisfied. “I knew you would. You always were a smart one.”

Kat didn’t know what to say to that. At the moment she didn’t feel very smart. She felt as if the joke was on her.

“It was easier than I thought it would be,” Mrs. Polanski said, fingering the edge of her shirt. “Turning Maybelle Harper into Kelly Watson, that is.”

Kat mustered up some saliva and swallowed. “Yeah?”

“Finding somebody willing to work fast to create the fake ID was the most difficult part. After that, I only had to lend her the money for an apartment and provide her with a good reference so Country Eats would hire her.”

Kat took a deep breath, trying to tamp down the mix of emotions coursing through her. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Mrs. Polanski spread her hands. “In front of Helen?”

Kat’s eyes widened. “She doesn’t know?”

Mrs. Polanski shook her head. “If she had been paying attention back then I’m sure she would have seen I was up to something. Helen knows me as well as I know her. But after the robbery she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts. So, everything I did for Maybelle stayed between her and me.”

Kat shook the newspaper in her hand, struggling to understand. “But you gave me all these articles, hoping I put everything together.”

Mrs. Polanski’s eyes softened. “You have a right to know about your mama. And I didn’t figure you would turn her in once you realized what name she was using. That would only jeopardize her freedom. Until Helen’s crime came to light, it wasn’t safe for Maybelle to reveal herself either.”

Kat absorbed that. She didn’t know for sure if what Mrs. Polanski was saying was true. She didn’t figure she could keep such a huge secret from Andrew, who in turn might be duty-bound to notify Chief Kenny.

Kat watched Matty and Tom playing with the newspaper clippings, needing a moment to corral her thoughts. She knew she should stop the cats before they made too much of a mess, but she felt paralyzed by what she’d just learned.

“So, when are you going to call her?” Mrs. Polanski asked.

Kat turned to face her. “I don’t have her number.”

Mrs. Polanski flapped her hand. “She’d be easy enough to locate with directory assistance.”

“She might not even live in Estacada anymore. And what if she’s married now, with a new family? What if she . . .” Kat trailed off, not wanting to ask out loud the question that still haunted her.
What if she doesn’t want to hear from me?

“Well, you’re not going to get answers to any of those questions unless you pick up the phone, now are you?” Mrs. Polanski reached for Kat’s cell phone on the coffee table and held it out.

Kat stared at it, a flare of terror searing her chest. Now that she was so close to finding her mother, her insecurities had returned in full force.

Mrs. Polanski sighed. “She didn’t want to leave you, you know.”

Kat’s eyes snapped toward hers. “She didn’t?”

“No. She asked me if I thought she should take you with her.” Mrs. Polanski closed her eyes for a moment. “I said I couldn’t imagine leaving Jessie behind if I were in her situation, but I also wouldn’t want to expose my daughter to the type of life that comes with running from the law. Plus, she still had all that drug business she was trying to shake. She knew, no matter how much she loved you, that that wasn’t the life she wanted you to have.”

“So she opted to abandon me,” Kat said, hearing how dull her own voice sounded.

Mrs. Polanski shook her head. “She opted to let you go if that meant you would have a better life than the one she could give you.”

Tears burned behind Kat’s eyes, and she blinked them away. Somehow, she’d never considered that walking away might have been difficult for her mother. It had never occurred to her that Maybelle had only left her because she loved Kat so much she was willing to put her own needs aside for those of her child.

Mrs. Polanski thrust the phone closer. “Here. Call directory assistance. It’s past time that your mama stopped running, and you should be the one to tell her she no longer has to hide.”