Meow Mayhem

by Lickel, Lisa;

  “Good.”

  He turned off the headlights and drove into the circular drive, stopping behind the miniature Egyptian temple I assumed was Tut’s. Adam turned the interior light switch to “off” before we opened the doors. Good move. I was impressed. We opened our doors quietly but didn’t close them all the way to avoid the click. He grabbed my hand and we tiptoed around to the door of temple. It was locked.

  Adam shone his light into one of the four windows, which didn’t open, either. “I don’t see anything moving,” he whispered.

  “Like a cat?”

  “No. I think…there’s Tut’s bed.”

  “We just have to get in. What if he’s been left in there, and no one’s come to take care of him?”

  Adam handed me the flash. “There really shouldn’t be any reason for Donald to lock this door,” he muttered, and studied the lock. With a glance in my direction, he reached in his hip pocket and pulled out a card. In about two minutes, he had the lock jimmied.

  I didn’t ask any questions but followed him inside.

  The air was fetid, but not as bad as Tiny’s aroma. I immediately put a hand across my nose, breathing shallowly until I adapted.

  Adam hesitated by the door, sweeping his light across the place. The large litter area Donald kept for Tut was clean.

  I hoped and prayed the odor wasn’t anything…serious. I heard a rustle and squeak and jumped. My hand brushed the wall and I accidentally activated a switch.

  The central chandelier glowed down into a room decked out like an exhibit I had once seen recreated in a museum. Scratching-post pillars lined the walls. A sleeping couch and miniature bench low to the ground held Tut’s feeding and water bowls, where Adam now stood.

  He gave a low whistle.

  I followed with a lame “wow” and didn’t bother to shut off the light. The damage had been done. Surely if anyone else was around the Conklin place, they’d have heard us by now. I ran my fingers along a smooth gold-painted plaster cast of a cat, one of a pair flanking the door, each with a paw reaching up and forward. Along a glass-enclosed wall were framed awards and pictures. Another wall held shelving for his scrapbooks which had been tossed willy nilly onto the floor.

  I picked up one that had fallen open to a clipping with only vague information about Adam’s accident and how much Isis helped in his healing. The clipping was undated, which accounted for why Margaret would have thought Adam had a little girl who liked to play with kitties. I set the album down.

  There was no evidence of the cat in residence. What had happened to Tut?

  Adam ran his hand over a number of decorative collars hanging on a hook near a column. “These are pretty fancy.”

  I recognized one from last year’s CAT convention and picked it up. “Tut wore this last year.”

  He took it from me. “These can’t be real stones.”

  “Diamonds? I don’t think so.” But I looked again, puzzled. The settings were quite sturdy for a run-of-the-mill pet collar. The whole thing was heavy, come to think of it. “Um…well, now you’ve made me wonder.” I checked out the others. Nothing else seemed unusual. Except for the one with the hidden pocket on the inside. I held it up. “What would anyone put in here?”

  “Change. Keys, I suppose,” he replied. He seemed edgy, and I followed him to the door. “Let’s go back to your place.”

  I flipped the light switch and locked the door, taking a moment to savor a grin at Adam’s expense. I wondered what other tricks he had in his repertoire of petty criminal activity we could call upon.

  He shrugged, then drove us home.

  The first thing I told Mom about was the mysterious warning we received after the meeting. I shivered.

  “I want to hear all about it, but first,” Mom closed the door behind us. “I’ll get us something to drink. Adam? Can you stay for a little while?”

  “I’ll get it,” I said, when he agreed. I bustled to make lemonade while Mom ushered him into the living room.

  “And he threatened you,” Mom was saying as I brought a tray out. She picked up a glass.

  I sat next to Adam.

  “The coward didn’t bother to show himself,” I said, restraining the “hmpf” that begged to follow.

  “Do you want to involve the police?” Mom asked.

  “No. We weren’t assaulted, and we have no evidence.”

  “So, how was the meeting?” Mom asked, abruptly changing the subject. Or was she?

  I told her how Murphy and Hackman shut down the questions. “The leftover crowd at the meeting seemed to be mostly Tiny Alnord’s buddies from the buffet. They thought Adam shouldn’t be allowed to use up all the water and clog the old sewer pipes downtown.”

  She grinned. “Bookstores are known for that, aren’t they?”

  Adam toasted her with his glass of lemonade, grinning back.

  “I can’t wait to read what Yolanda writes in the paper,” I said. “She didn’t make a big deal about Tiny’s complaints, but I saw her taking pictures after the crowd went wild.”

  “Did you get a look at the reactions of the council members?” Mom asked.

  “Four of them stared at their microphones and the others appeared surprised when they found out Adam knew Donald raised money to fix the sewer and water system,” I said. “Mr. Stewart, the chairman of Public Utilities, and his friend Hanley acted as if they knew about how the money was supposed to be used. In fact, Hanley even seemed as though he enjoyed the fact that Georgine Crosby was opposed.”

  “Why do you think the mayor didn’t listen to the engineer’s report about needing a new sewage treatment plant instead of upgrading the old one?” Mom asked.

  “I don’t know.” Adam shrugged. “He only mentioned that there was some confusion and misinterpretation of the facts.”

  “Facts like how much money was available for what kinds of projects?” Mom asked.

  “It depends on who saw what reports.” I frowned, thinking out loud. “And under what circumstances. If someone just happened onto a piece of a paper without knowing everything, it would be easy to jump to the wrong conclusions.”

  “OK. Wouldn’t the mayor have sat down with the council and explained everything?” Mom kneaded her eyebrows between thumb and forefinger.

  “One would think,” Adam said. “Remember, they’re good people, but have they ever been involved in a project of this magnitude? It isn’t easy to understand how everything works when you don’t have the experience.”

  Mom sighed. “So, there may have been opportunity to find out about the money that the mayor wouldn’t have divulged directly.” She unfolded the chart she’d placed on the coffee table and made a few notes. “Perhaps we can contact the council members and talk to them next week about how they thought grants were to be administered. We’ll add another dimension to our ‘unknown’ person or persons, due to the threat you received tonight. Are you sure you’re both all right?”

  “Yes, thank you, Mom.”

  “I’m getting tired.” Mom stood. “I think I’ll call it a night. I plan to stay through the weekend. Shall I see you again, Adam? Did anyone say when the mayor’s funeral would be held?”

  Adam stood and squeezed her hand. “We didn’t hear. I suppose once Margaret is found, she’ll take care of it. It was nice seeing you again. Good night.”

  Very transparent, Mother. “Good night.” I waved her off down the hall. I did not get up, hoping Adam would get the hint and stay. After a moment, he sat again.

  Memnet appeared from behind the couch and jumped on the cushion next to him, circling.

  “Ah, there you are, pet,” I said. “He hasn’t decided if he likes leather.”

  He cautiously approached. Mem held a polite paw over Adam’s leg, as if asking before he climbed up. We laughed at his antics and Adam stroked Mem’s back while the cat settled in. Not content with Adam’s lap, Mem slowly inched his way up Adam’s chest, hunched over the vest. He batted lazily at the tied ends of the scarf, pulling it away fr
om Adam’s neck. Adam reached out to stop him.

  I jumped up and grabbed Memnet. “Mem! Stop!” I scolded. Mem thrust himself out of my grip and crawled back behind the couch. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand why he did that,” I said.

  “That’s all right.” He pulled the scarf from around his neck and stuffed it in a pocket. “You’ve been quite polite about it. Most folks can’t even stand to look.”

  I stood still, unsure what to do next.

  He patted the cushion beside him on the sofa. “I don’t know what Donald told you about me.”

  I sat where Adam indicated. “Nothing. Donald never talked to me about you. He simply introduced us.”

  Adam nodded. “That sounds like him. Gossip wasn’t his style.”

  I watched him swallow, the raised skin on the side of his neck taut. I reached my hand toward him, stopping just sort of contact. “Does it hurt?” I let my hand fall to my lap.

  “In certain places I’m somewhat sensitive to cold and heat,” he said. “The doctors said that would probably always stay that way, and I should be glad to feel anything at all.”

  “I heard you tell a customer that you’d had an accident six years ago.”

  “It wasn’t me. At least, I wasn’t in the accident. I was at work and received a frantic call from my daughter, Elise. My wife’s car went off the road, rammed against a utility pole and turned on its side. Elise was in the car. Her door was blocked by the downed pole and power lines and her mother was unconscious.”

  My blood congealed in my veins when he said “daughter.” I could almost guess what he was about to say, and hot tears welled behind my eyelids.

  He watched me a moment, then, averting his gaze, took a deep breath. He spoke quickly. “I called the police right away and then of course drove over there as fast as I could. Sparks were flying everywhere from severed wires. I saw Elise slumped against the window. She wasn’t moving. The sharp smell of burning rubber and gasoline was something I’ll never get out of my head. The smoke was thick. At first I couldn’t see flames.”

  He closed his eyes. “I think I still hear my daughter scream sometimes, in my dreams. I don’t think she was conscious, maybe not even—alive—at that point. I don’t think I even turned off my truck, just opened the door and jumped out, trying to reach them. Janet’s car was so hot. I used my shoulder to try to force the back of the car forward, to right it so that I could get to the door. The rescue workers who arrived first needed to knock me out.” He swallowed. “Later, they said Janet, my wife, never woke up. Elise had just turned thirteen.”

  My lips trembled. Air whooshed from my lungs, but I was afraid to take a fresh breath in case I choked.

  “I needed skin grafts on my arm, chest, and neck where the skin burned on contact with the car. I was in the hospital for two months. My sister, Marie, came to help manage the stores. We ran three of them then. At first, when I came home after the hospital, I was so numb I couldn’t care about anything. A friend brought me a cat. Isis.” Adam reached to take a sip of cold coffee. He leaned his elbows on his knees. “After I was able to start getting out, I took Isis with me a lot. She received so many compliments. Anyway, people kept asking about her until I researched Maus. A couple of years ago I started attending the conventions.” He looked at my damp cheeks. “I noticed you, almost right away. I saw you talking to Donald.” Adam leaned toward me, carefully cupping my face in his large hands. He wiped at the tears with his thumbs. “I made it my business to get acquainted with Donald, so I could eventually wangle an introduction to you. You’re so pretty. So good with your cat. The first to open doors for someone or help them with their bags.”

  “I’m so sorry about your…your…” I whispered, choking up. My gaze dropped to his lips and he obligingly kissed me.

  “Thank you,” he said. “For crying for us. I’ll never forget them, but I’m able to move on at last. Coming here has been good for me.”

  “To get away from the memories?”

  He shook his head and kissed me again, his lips tender and determined at the same time. I closed my eyes while my pulse fluttered and tingled all the way through my stomach to my toes.

  “They’re always with me,” he whispered, his breath warm against my face. I didn’t open my eyes. He nibbled at my upper lip as he spoke. “But starting new, I mean. To get to know you when we’re on equally unfamiliar turf.”

  I turned to the side to catch my breath and answer him. “Ah. No unfair advantages.”

  “Mmm.” He pulled me close to his chest and simply held me. “I guess I should confess that while Donald may not have gossiped about me, he did drop one little factlet about you.”

  I snorted a little in exasperation. “I can’t imagine. There are so many to choose from.” I felt his heartbeat under my ear and took a deep breath, reveling in his scent, a mix of skin-warmed leather and the tension of old memories. Stanley had always smelled like the inside of a used car.

  “When I casually asked if he knew if you were, um, involved with anyone, he mentioned that you told him you’d been engaged once.”

  “‘Once’ being the operative word.” I did not want to talk about Stanley. Conversations about my former fiancé wasted the time I had with Adam. I heaved a sigh. Uncharitable thoughts came and went. “I dated a guy I thought I would marry. For five years. When we finally set a wedding date for last Christmas, made the arrangements, ordered my dress, and sent the invitations, he backed out. Changed his mind about getting married. I guess thinking you’re a potential divorcee is better contemplated beforehand. I hate Christmas.”

  I could not look at him. After his story, mine seemed so petty. “A few months after I got my share of the down payment for the wedding money back, I jumped at Donald’s invitation to start over in this pleasant little community of Apple Grove, where the people are so warm and friendly, and the crime rate is practically non-existent.”

  Donald. He had made such a big difference in our lives. Now I pulled back, forgetting my tears, to face Adam. “What can we do about Donald and Tut?”

  His jaw muscle clenched and released. “I don’t know. After the warning we received tonight, someone apparently thinks we’re doing too much already. Trust the police, I guess. Do you think your mother’s students will figure anything out?”

  “They’ve had some training. To do field work, they have to have taken several courses already. And a fresh look at the situation won’t hurt. People who are close to a situation tend to overlook the obvious.”

  “I agree.” He stood, holding my hand and pulling me up. “I’d better go.”

  We walked toward the back door, Adam’s arm across my shoulder. Once there, we stopped. He drew me close to kiss again, a more lingering promise this time. Although there should be a wedding in there somewhere, I preferred to jump ahead and mentally pictured us, an old married couple, enjoying coffee and the paper together at the kitchen table. Something bothered me. “Adam?”

  “Yes?”

  “You said earlier that you felt responsible for me.”

  “You’re uncomfortable with that,” he stated, pulling away.

  I touched his jaw to turn his face toward me. “I’ve always needed to be independent. I guess it has something to do with my mom being widowed so early in life. Even with Stanley, I never felt that I could just…give myself up. Maybe that was really the issue all along, and he realized it.”

  “I’d never ask you to be an extension of me,” he said firmly. “But a relationship does need a sense of trust between the parties involved.”

  “You want a relationship?”

  “Is it too soon for you, after your break up?” His eyes reflected sympathy. “I’ve waited this long. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I should ask for that in writing. “It’s not too soon,” I said. “Breaking up is different, I think, than the way you lost your family. Not as horrible, certainly.” I shivered, and Adam rubbed my arms. “I feel unworthy,” I mumbled against his shoulder.


  “Unworthy of what?”

  “Of anyone like you,” I told him. “Anyone as won—”

  His kiss almost made me cry again. “Shh. I’m the blessed one, here.” He cradled me for a couple of minutes, then let me go. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  ~*~

  News of business grants, tax grants and an upgraded wastewater treatment plant flashed around Apple Grove, ground into a hybrid fertilizer of gossip and innuendo, and spread liberally around the community. Bob Green was in a prime position as a central hub of information. He heard all kinds of tales from his position between a customer in the barber’s chair to the rest of the men waiting a turn to be clipped and shorn.

  Marion called me at noon with an update on the collective confusion of Apple Grove citizens, gleaned directly from her husband. “Bob told me when he came home for lunch that he’d never have believed my version of last night’s meeting compared to the stories buzzing around now,” Marion said.

  “What’ll happen when the newspaper comes out?” I wondered out loud.

  “That depends on the slant Yolanda gives it, doesn’t it?”

  I glanced at my personal answering machine. The indicator flashed a number four, all calls from curiosity seekers, one distinctly unfriendly and attempted anonymous. That caller must have forgotten about caller ID. Trouble was, anyone could have used Tiny’s telephone at the buffet to call my house, threatening to ruin my reputation by exposing me as an extortionist who took personal information and then used it for blackmail.

  The anonymous caller claimed he had proof that I had done this in the past. I had never done anything of the sort, of course, but I wondered what “proof” the caller had.

  I kept a tape recording of the call and the time it was made but had only the source of the almost public location the caller used. I doubted it would be admissible in court should I need to defend myself the next time I was robbed or threatened. I groaned. Like threatening behavior was becoming a regularly expected occurrence. “So, what are some of the best rumors?” I asked Marion. “I’d better be ready to answer questions.”