Accidental Catastrophe

by C T Mitchell

  Miss Coco started meowing loudly. Come on, I want to see someone in a fight. She pulled on her leash harder.

  Taylor told herself not to look as she descended the stairs and walked past Mrs. McWilliams and her son, who both looked decidedly uncomfortable. She moved quickly noticing that Miss Coco had turned her head and slowed down so she was looking right at the two.

  They had stopped fighting either for her benefit or because they were done. She willed her cat to go a little faster. She was such a nosy cat.

  Miss Coco thought Taylor wasn’t nosy enough. She thought the two looked guilty and wondered if there was more to the argument than met the eye. Taylor pulled the door open and pushed Miss Coco forward with her foot.

  The cat planted her feet. I will go when I want to.

  Taylor stepped around the stubborn cat and started to shut the door on her so she had to move. Miss Coco hissed at the door and moved forward.

  Heading towards the park she had seen when they arrived, Taylor walked Miss Coco and took in the ambience of the area. Restful, peaceful and downright magical. The view was of the ocean and the beach below. It was simply stunning and Taylor stood staring for a few minutes at the beauty of the panorama.

  Knowing that Miss Coco wouldn’t appreciate looking over a cliff at water she could possibly fall into, Taylor didn’t linger as long as she wanted to. She snapped a few pictures with the one camera she’d brought with her, and moved into a patch of wooded land and found one of the timber benches that lined the path through the park.

  It was very peaceful and she enjoyed just sitting and listening to the waves. She watched her cat stick her nose in the air and thought she seemed to be enjoying the smell of the ocean. Something in the air tickled the cat’s nose and she shook her head to get the sting of salty air out. This caused her to sneeze and she startled several insects that had been hiding on the ground around her.

  Big mistake.

  The cat crouched down eying a butterfly that had landed on a flower just inches in front of her. She pounced, landing on it with both paws, so she thought. When she pulled back there was nothing there but a crushed flower.

  She meowed angrily at Taylor because it had to be her fault. Miss Coco was the fastest cat she knew, certainly faster than a butterfly. The fat cat Taylor’s neighbor had, Butters, couldn’t have even walked after the butterfly, much less attack it with the stealth of a true predator like she could.

  Taylor must have shooed it away. She glared at her owner who didn’t seem to notice. The cat put a claw into her leg as a reminder to look down at her and then meowed angrily.

  “Don’t bother the butterflies, Miss Coco. Get something that will bite me like a mosquito.”

  Miss Coco looked up at her owner with disgust.

  It is impossible for me not to chase a butterfly! Have you seen their wings? They flutter.

  CHAPTER 3

  After enjoying the beach for a little while, Taylor walked Miss Coco back up towards the lodge. She had seen numerous rustic timber benches near the garden and thought Coco could play in the grass for a little while. There were probably a ton of colorful flowers blooming in the summer, but now that the weather had turned colder, it was just a lot of greenery. The way the garden was laid out like a small maze was amazing and Taylor could tell the owner had really spent a lot of time making it a place to be enjoyed.

  “So, are you still mad at me for bringing you along?” Taylor asked Miss Coco as they sat on a bench and enjoyed the massive garden that flanked the lodge on each side.

  Miss Coco purred and rubbed her head against Taylor’s lap. She gave a satisfied meow and rubbed against her hand so she could pet her. There were still nice smells in the air like someone burning a fire nearby and the hint of something cooking in the nearby restaurant.

  “Alright. I hear you, princess. You don’t like to travel, but you like this place? Right?” Another purr came back in reply and the cat started kneading Taylors' leg. Taylor nodded deciding she did like it and took the local paper out of her bag. “Let’s see what the locals have to say, shall we?”

  Miss Coco didn’t answer and laid down beside her, keeping her paws and head on Taylor’s leg.

  “Listen to this, Coco,” Taylor said after reading an article relating to the Highland Lodge.

  “Mr. Rumple’s family will probably launch a civil suit against the Highland Lodge owner, Mrs. McWilliams, for damages. Let’s remember that Mr. Rumple died at the lodge as a result of a fall on the main staircase. The Coroner determined it to be an accidental death, but Mrs. Rumple is convinced her husband was murdered. Stay tuned, folks.”

  Taylor put the paper down and pondered for a moment. Mr. Rumple was not a young man, but he certainly wasn’t an invalid either – according to the article. It seemed possible a freak accident like that could kill a man, but what were the chances?

  “Why would anyone want to kill him?” Taylor asked Miss Coco. The cat simply yawned and turned her head the other way.

  “Right, we need more information,” Taylor said nodding at the cat.

  Taylor took her phone out of her jacket pocket and added the name of the journalist to her list of contacts. She wanted to have a chat with the man as soon as possible, but since it was Saturday, the newspaper office was closed for the weekend.

  “We’ll have to wait until Monday to talk to the guy, but in the meantime, maybe we can have another look at the staircase – what do you say?”

  Miss Coco was fast asleep on her leg. Taylor didn’t really want to move and disturb her.

  “Aw, poor puss. She must be exhausted,” Taylor deduced. “Cats are definitely not made for travel.”

  After gently waking Miss Coco, the odd pair walked back to the lodge. With no one attending the reception desk, Taylor decided to have another look at the staircase – with Miss Coco’s help.

  She recalled noticing that the third rod from the top of the stairs was new. Something she’d dismissed when she checked in but now seemed really important.

  “Let’s see now,” she whispered to the cat as she put her down on the step. Immediately, Miss Coco started sniffing the carpet. She sneezed a couple of times. Carpet cleaning products were not the best – they smelled wonderful to humans but contained chemicals cats could smell underneath, which Miss Coco didn’t appreciate.

  Taylor watched as her companion sniffed the carpet and then tried to lift the edge of it with her paw. There was something hidden underneath it. Taylor went down on her knees to give her a hand and pulled out a brass bolt.

  “Good job Miss Coco,” Taylor said not really sure what she was looking at.

  Obviously, the cat lifted a leg and proceeded to lick her tummy in response.

  CHAPTER 4

  “How strange is that?” Taylor whispered to Miss Coco. “The new rod has been replaced but the old bolt has been shoved under the carpet – probably by mistake. Hey, quit that.” She stopped Coco’s impromptu bath.

  She put the small object in her pocket and she and Miss Coco returned to their room. She wasn’t sure how the rods worked exactly but if they were supposed to keep the carpet secure so someone didn’t trip, then it made sense for someone to remove them so it bunched up and tripped an unsuspecting patron.

  Later that night, Taylor decided to have dinner in the lodge’s restaurant. She wanted to hear what people had to say about the newspaper article. Scott McWilliams, the son who received the slapping earlier, was welcoming the guests.

  “Miss Mitchell, very nice seeing you tonight,” Scott told her, “here is the Menu du Jour”.

  “Thank you,” Taylor replied, looking around at the faces already seated in the restaurant.

  Scott led her to a nice table near the panoramic window which afforded a view of the garden and the woods behind them. It was very pleasant, though Taylor wished Miss Coco could have joined her. There were just some places not suited for a cat.

  As she sat down, she listened to the guests seated around her. Some guests were murmur
ing to each other, but she couldn’t really pick out any one voice. She saw several people seated nearby take in her arrival and then go back to their conversations while some never stopped talking.

  Scott returned to the table and asked her if she would like some wine with her meal. Taylor looked up at the young man. He was rather tall with a head of auburn hair that enhanced his milky complexion. She didn’t think he was what one would call sickly-looking, but he could do with some fresh air and exercise. Taylor smiled at him trying to see if his attitude or mannerisms would give anything away. Scott seemed perfectly at ease.

  “Yes, I’ll have a glass of Merlot. Thank you,” Taylor answered, returning her attention to the menu. A few moments later Scott placed a glass of red wine in front of Taylor with some flourish.

  “May I take your order now, ma’am?”

  Looking up at Scott once again, Taylor replied, “Your rack of lamb with roasted yams sounds like the ticket. I’ll have that – medium.”

  Scott wrote down her order and mentioned in a strong voice, “I hope everything will be to your liking, Miss Mitchell.”

  Taylor smiled and said, “I’m sure it will be.” She handed the menu back to Scott. The latter hesitated, and then asked, “Will you have any dessert?”

  Taylor frowned that was strange, she hadn’t even gotten her dinner yet. “No, I don’t think so. I’d have a piece of cheese and grapes if you could manage that?”

  That request didn’t seem to please him at all and he scrunched his face up like he’d smelled something bad. “My mother spends hours making some of the best crème caramel in the region, and you won’t even have any?” His voice was clipped with an underlying threat, Taylor didn’t appreciate, nor understand.

  Her eyebrows shot up in response. “Truly, young man, I don’t care for any form of dessert – whether your mother made it or not. I just don’t like sweets.”

  In a huff, Scott left the table and returned to the kitchen. An older man had listened to the exchange with interest. He came over to sit across from Taylor.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing what you said to the boy. I’d be careful if I were you – that’s how it began with Mr. Rumple. He didn’t want some of the dishes on the menu and asked for something special – can’t remember what exactly, my memory is terrible – but the next morning he was dead.”

  ***

  Miss Coco was sleeping soundly while Taylor was at dinner, but something startled her. She jumped down off the settee and saw the door was rattling like someone was putting a key in the lock. At first, she went forward thinking Taylor had come back but then she realized it didn't sound like her owner's footsteps. She thought perhaps she’d gotten drunk at dinner and was stumbling around.

  Sitting and watching, the knob rattled in the door. It was about time Taylor was home. Coco was feeling peckish and there wasn’t a full bowl of dry to nibble on. Licking a paw, she waited for the door to swing open. She would have to remind Taylor that it was rude not to fill the food, with a few twists between the legs.

  This was taking too long. Taylor had long ago mastered the key-and-knob thing, and even when she had a few drinks, it didn’t take this long……. Unless it wasn’t Taylor. The person seemed to be taking their time like they were looking to make sure no one saw them trying to enter.

  Miss Coco stared at the knob, concerned. Licking a paw to pass the time—little bit of dust there, not good, fur stays clean—the door made the sound of the bolts turning and the lock opening. The door swung open slowly and the person who’d been taking their sweet time came into the room.

  It was not Taylor. It was not anyone who looked or smelled like Taylor!

  Miss Coco was gone in the blink of an eye. She darted through the room and looked around to find somewhere to hide and watch. This was not a good thing, someone who she’d never seen before, coming into the room. Not when Taylor wasn’t around. Also, this intruder didn’t bring kibble or anything the cat could play with. She decided she should definitely hide.

  There was a basket of towels in the bathroom she could hide in and still see out of the door. She made haste and dove into the towels being careful to cover herself as the person came inside. She saw the person walk back and forth a couple times. It was hard to tell what the person was doing but it looked like they brought something in the room to put down on the floor.

  The cat watched with interest as the person wheeled a cart into the bathroom and used a flat stick to get some kind of clear gel on it. They took up the shower mat and put it on the cart replacing it with a strange clear looking one. The flat stick was used to spread the clear gel all over the floor all around the mat in front of the shower.

  They did this for a few moments while Miss Coco watched. It didn't make sense to her but she didn't feel like what was happening was necessary.

  After they painted several layers on the floor, the person stood and reached up into the shower door. It slid and made a terrible noise Coco didn't like. The person removed a screw of some sort and wiggled the door. It still stood up but it wasn't stable.

  Miss Coco watched as the person cleaned up any evidence that they'd been in the bathroom. They also took care not to step where they'd put the clear gel. She realized this meant it wasn't good to stand on.

  When the person left, Coco growled because this meant she'd have to stay awake until Taylor returned in order to warn her. She started licking herself to pass the time, hoping her owner wouldn't be too long.

  CHAPTER 5

  Back in the dining room, Taylor looked at the man who’d just joined her in shock for a couple seconds before recovering. Had he just said what she thought he had? The man continued nodding slowly as he waited for her to take it all in.

  “Are you suggesting to me that Mr. Rumple was murdered after all?” Taylor queried, whispering the words. She looked back and forth to make sure Scott wasn’t somehow listening in nearby.

  “Yes, ma’am. That’s what I’m telling you. Besides, that’s not the first time it has happened. Mr. Jonathan in 305 died last year from food poisoning – something to do with chicken left unattended for too long. Mind you, I don’t see Mrs. McWilliams being so careless, but I wouldn’t put it past that boy to be up to mischief.”

  “You think someone would get killed over not liking a few dishes?” Taylor asked. She’d seen some crazy things in her life, but that just seemed downright ridiculous.

  “If you’re crazy, you’ll kill for a lot less,” the man said. He got up from the table and walked back to his own, leaving Taylor with a lot to think about. She didn’t even get the man’s name who gave her the information because she’d been too shocked.

  If she had angered the man who was doing the killing, could she be next? Taylor was soft-spoken and often shy, but she was not a coward. It was very difficult to scare her and this situation was no different.

  After finishing her meal, which was very palatable, she headed back to her room. Taylor was keen for some peace and quiet to reflect on the information she had discovered. When she walked into her room. Miss Coco immediately came up to sniff her.

  You had lamb, and you brought back nothing. How dare you. She let out a little meow.

  “Aw, I missed you too Miss Coco,” Taylor said. “Come on, let me tell you what I learnt.”

  Looking at the clock, she wondered if she might get lucky trying to call the journalist. Some journalists worked late night weekend hours. She also thought the number might be a cell phone. Since it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet, she decided to try it.

  After the first ring, Steven Cline picked up, “Hello, this is Steve.”

  “Hi Mr. Cline, I’m sorry to bother you. I know you did a story on the death of Mr. Rumple and I realize it’s late for work. I’m staying at the lodge he passed in and I think I may know what happened. Is there anything you can tell me about that wasn’t in your article?”

  “Oh, if you’re calling about a story, then there isn’t a time that’s too late!” Steven said
with enthusiasm. Taylor was relieved.

  “Let’s see. I guess in the article I didn’t put that he fell from the third stair. Oh, I also didn’t put that Mrs. Rumple said a phone call woke her up right before it happened. She thought it was strange they were calling so late, and then her husband left the room. Now she thinks the killer called him to get him to go down the stairs.”

  “That’s why she thinks he was murdered,” Taylor said. It made sense. If someone called him to come downstairs, and tampered with stairs, they could be sure he was the one who fell and not someone else.

  “I’m guessing you have someone in mind, with a reason for why the guy is dead?”

  “Yes,” Taylor said, “I’m just working everything out now.”

  “Can I count on you to give me the first statement if you crack it?” Steven asked.

  “Of course, you’ve been more than helpful.” Taylor hung up the phone and turned to Miss Coco who was sniffing a spot on her shirt. “We have a mission tonight my friend.”

  Taylor stood and started walking into the bathroom. The cat ran quickly in front of her and meowed loudly. Taylor tried to step around her but the cat continued to block her path.

  “What gives Coco?” she queried.

  Miss Coco flattened her ears against her head and lowered herself to the floor as Taylor tried to move around her once more. A low, rumbling growl started in the cats’ throat working up into a menacing hiss.

  I hate hissing at her like this, she always looks at me with such sad eyes. Come on human, figure this out.

  Miss Coco looked up at Taylor with narrowed brown eyes. Taylor glared down at her before kneeling in front of her. She shook her head as she looked around trying to see what had the cat so upset.

  “What in the blazes has gotten into you?” she questioned, stroking the cats ruffled fur.

  Miss Coco tried not to focus on the marvelous feeling of her owner’s hand on her fur. She had a mission and that was to keep her safe. Safe from the clear stuff on the floor, whatever it was intended to do to her.