The Girl with the Kitten Tattoo

by Linda Reilly

  Lara giggled when she gave one customer a cranberry muffin instead of the blueberry he’d asked for. He happily accepted a second muffin free of charge. Another customer seated at the counter got pancakes instead of waffles. He shrugged affably, drowned them in maple syrup, and dug in with gusto.

  Luckily, Jill, their sole employee, was there to pick up the slack. With her short dark hair, a ruby-colored jewel jutting from one pierced eyebrow, she waved at Lara from a distance. A tray of dirty dishes balanced on one shoulder, she shoved her way through the swinging door into the kitchen.

  “So, tell me, what’s happening?” Lara said when her friend took a breather.

  “First of all, David and I have an appointment with Pastor Folger at five this afternoon. I only spoke to him for a few minutes on the phone, but I got super good vibes from him.”

  “Sher, that’s great!” Lara sipped from her warm coffee mug. “Anything else?”

  Sherry grinned. “You bet. Last night, David and I looked at that fortune cookie Web site. Oh my God, the choices! We chose the ones we wanted and ordered them. They’ll be here by next Thursday! Plenty of time to make up the favor boxes.”

  Sherry’s news was good all around. Lara was thrilled for her. “Don’t forget, I’ll help you put the favor boxes together if you want.”

  “I’m counting on it,” Sherry said. Her gaze softened, “Lara, I can’t tell you how many people have called me about the invitation. One of Mom’s buds is even going to have hers framed. David and I will treasure ours forever.”

  Lara had hand-painted, in watercolor, each of Sherry’s twenty-six wedding invitations. It was a labor of love, and the results had been spectacular. It was the one thing she’d been able to do for her bestie that was unique and special.

  “That’s nice to hear, Sher. I really enjoyed doing them.” Lara popped the last bite of her blueberry muffin into her mouth and swallowed. “I won’t be able to linger today. Lots to do at the shelter.” Not to mention a drive to Bakewell to meet Tina.

  Sherry frowned. “You okay? Your eyes look a little weird today.”

  Yup. She spotted the puffy eyes.

  “It was one of those nights,” Lara said. “Not much sleep. A lot on my mind, I guess.”

  Sherry lifted one hand to her hip. “Just remember your promise. None of that girl detective stuff, okay?”

  “I remember,” Lara said, hedging her answer. “Love to your mom!”

  She waved goodbye to Jill, gave Sherry a quick hug, and scooted out the door.

  The temperature had made it into the thirties—a heat wave compared to the prior several days. Kayla had decided to take Wednesday off, promising to return on Thursday. With her classes out this week, she wanted a day to catch up on her own projects. Lara suspected she was hoping to spend it with the new man in her life.

  Every Wednesday afternoon, Lara and Aunt Fran joined Mary Newman, a local merchant, and Brooke Weston, a high school student, for their classics book club. Initially they used to meet at the coffee shop, but now they met at Aunt Fran’s. Brooke was an occasional volunteer at the shelter, but these days she spent most of her free time babysitting to earn money for clothes.

  This week they’d be discussing Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, so Lara wanted to be sure to get home in time for the meeting.

  “Shall I pick up some snacks for book club?” Lara asked Aunt Fran as she was leaving.

  Her aunt was seated at the kitchen table, a cat—Dolce—in her lap and her laptop set up in front of her. “It’s Mary’s turn to bring treats, but if you see something irresistible in your travels, don’t hesitate to buy them.”

  “Gotcha,” Lara said. “How’s the book coming?”

  Aunt Fran grinned. “Slowly, but I love these quiet winter mornings to write. I feel inspired.” Her smile faded. “Lara, you look a bit worn out today. Is everything all right?”

  Lara forced back a lump in her throat. “Truth be told, everything’s a big jumble right now. Gideon’s mad at me for wanting to help Megan.”

  “That’s because he’s worried about your safety,” her aunt said quietly. “Lara, why is it that you want to help her? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  Lara lifted her tote higher on her shoulder. How could she explain the kinds of strange things that had been going through her head?

  Her dreams the night before had kept her awake half the night. She kept seeing a sea of people crowding Bakewell’s quaint town center. She remembered feeling alone and isolated. Desperate to find someone she knew to give her comfort, she’d searched the faces. But the moment she spotted a familiar one, it morphed into someone different. No one was who they seemed.

  She knew they were only dreams, that she shouldn’t read anything into them. But she couldn’t seem to evict them from her head.

  “It’s complicated, Aunt Fran. Let’s just say, I’m getting vibes from beyond this realm.”

  Her aunt mulled that for a moment, then said, “Blue?”

  Lara nodded, and a tidal wave of guilt drenched her. She hadn’t told her aunt where she was headed, only that she had a few errands to run and would be at least a few hours. Maybe it was time to ’fess up.

  “Aunt Fran, I’m not really doing errands this morning. I’m heading to Bakewell to meet Tina Tanaka at the diner. She called me last night and wants to talk to me about something. I have no idea what it is. The diner’s a public place. Nothing’s going to happen.”

  “Oh, Lara.” Her aunt looked stricken.

  “I know, but—” She shook her head. “I wish I could explain it better. Something about Bakewell is drawing me there, and it’s not just Megan. I think the murder is only part of it.”

  There. She’d said it.

  The thoughts that had been getting under skin since last night’s crazy dreams.

  “I thought Tina Tanaka was angry with you?” Aunt Fran said.

  “She was, but I guess she checked me out and decided I was a good guy, not a bad guy. I have no idea what she wants to talk about. I can only guess it has something to do with Wayne Chancer’s death.”

  Aunt Fran held up both hands, palms out. “I’m not going to try to talk you out of it. I’ll say what I always say—be aware of your surroundings. Keep your cell phone on you at all times.”

  Lara chuckled. “Aunt Fran. I’m not going into a war zone. I’m only going there to find out why Tina wants to see me.”

  “I know.” Her aunt lifted Dolce and set him gently on the floor. Then she rose from her chair, went over to Lara, and hugged her. “I am on your side, no matter what. Always remember that.”

  Tears sprang to Lara’s eyes. “I know you are. Believe me, I know.”

  Growing up, it was Aunt Fran who’d always been there for her. Who’d nurtured her love of art and taught her to care for cats. Lara’s own mom, Brenda, had envied their close bond. It’d had a sad effect on their family dynamics.

  “I’ll call you after I leave Bakewell,” Lara promised. “And I’ll be back in plenty of time for the book club.”

  * * * *

  The ride to Bakewell took less than forty minutes this time. Knowing the route, and exactly where to turn, had helped shorten the drive.

  Lara spotted Tina the moment she stepped inside the diner. Tina waved to her from a booth at the far corner of the restaurant.

  The place itself was adorable, with cozy red-vinyl booths along one side and a counter lined with stools that stretched along the other. Bright red cardboard cupids had been stuck willy-nilly on the walls, and a line of foil hearts had been strung up above the workspace behind the counter. A few elderly men sat at the counter, nursing mugs of coffee while they perused folded newspapers. A thirtysomething, ponytailed woman working the grill turned and beamed at Lara. “Sit anywhere you like. Someone’ll be right with you.”

  “Thank you. I’m meeting someo
ne.” She hurried toward Tina’s booth and slid onto the bench opposite her.

  “Hey, you made it.” Tina smiled at Lara. “Right on time.”

  Lara was relieved to see Tina smiling. They hadn’t exactly parted on good terms the day Lara left the bridal salon.

  “I think the drive over was easier the second time around.” Lara pulled off her gloves and unbuttoned her jacket. “It’s actually a very pretty ride.”

  “It’s really pretty once the winter grime melts and the trees start to bud,” Tina said.

  Another server, this one in her sixties with a wrinkled face and sporting circular earrings the size of Hula-Hoops, sidled over to take Lara’s order. She set down a glass of ice water in front of her. “Coffee?”

  “You bet,” Lara said. “With cream, please.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Not right now, thanks.”

  The server rolled her eyes and scuttled away.

  Tina had already ordered coffee. She took a sip from her mug and winced. “Ach. Still too hot. I can’t stand super-hot drinks.”

  Lara’s gaze was drawn to the folder sitting on the table next to Tina. Whatever Tina wanted to talk about, she’d apparently brought visuals. Lara looked around to see if anyone was within earshot. She assumed Tina intended their conversation to be private.

  “Don’t worry. No one can hear us.” Tina waited until Lara’s coffee came, then she leaned closer and said, “I told you this wouldn’t take long, so I’ll get right to the point.” She opened the folder and slid out several sheets of paper. Even upside down, Lara saw that they were copies of newspaper articles. Tina turned them around so Lara could see them.

  Lara swallowed a gasp. “These pictures…are all of me,” she said, taking the sheets in her hand. She flipped through them.

  The first article, over two years old, was from the weekly Whisker Jog newspaper. A photo of Lara standing behind her aunt’s home, her arm linked through Aunt Fran’s, had graced the front page. A wily killer had been caught, and Lara had been largely responsible.

  Confused, Lara glanced at Tina, who nodded at her. “Keep going.”

  The next photo was from the same newspaper. In a dramatic confrontation at the home of legendary actress Deanna Daltry, Lara had gotten help from an unlikely source to stop another killer from getting away with murder. The pic showed a smiling Lara standing in front of the actress’s stone mansion. In each of her hands was a kitten. She remembered when the photo was taken. The reporter had insisted on having Lara pose with the kittens, since it was she who’d helped them settle into a loving home.

  The remaining two articles were similar. Each photo of Lara was accompanied by an account of the capture of a killer. In every case, Lara had been the catalyst.

  Or cat-alyst, she thought dryly.

  Lara felt her blood pound in her ears. Tina had certainly done her homework on Lara. But why was she showing her these?

  “Tina, I’ve seen all these before, obviously. I’m not sure why you’re showing them to me.” Lara pushed them back toward Tina, but the young woman stopped her.

  “I want you to look at them again,” Tina said in a soft voice. “Carefully, this time. I know you’re an artist, so you pick up on details.”

  Lara stared at her, then pulled the articles over in front of her again. She examined each one, then shook her head. They were typical grainy newspaper photos, made even grainier by printing them off a copier. There was nothing unusual about them. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be seeing.”

  Tina removed a pencil from the flowered purse resting on the bench beside her. Using it as a pointer, she went to each photo. “There,” she said. “A tiny pinpoint of light, almost at your feet.”

  Lara looked again. Tina was right. The sunlight had apparently beamed off a small object in the grass. Either that, or it was a glitch of the camera.

  Tina flipped to the next photo. This one had been taken in bright daylight, so the dot of light was less obvious. But it was there, almost on Lara’s shoulder.

  The other two photos had similar dots of light, both very close to Lara.

  She tried to recall if the same photographer had taken each of the photos. The first had been taken by the editor of the paper with a regular camera, but the second two had been taken with his cell phone. The fourth, she couldn’t remember.

  A weird feeling gripped Lara in a vise. She rubbed her hands over her eyes.

  “Lara,” Tina said quietly, “you managed to put away four killers. You can’t deny that. Even the police gave you credit. No, wait, it was five killers. One of them was very low-key, so your involvement was kept out of the papers.”

  At my request, Lara remembered dismally.

  “How do you know all this?” Lara said curtly. “What did you do, study me?”

  Tina nodded. “Yes, I did.”

  “But…why?”

  Tina folded her hands. Her fingers were slender, almost like the pencil she’d used as a pointer. Her shiny black hair reflected a swatch of morning sunlight coming through the window of the diner.

  “Lara, something else was going on, wasn’t it?” Tina’s gaze met Lara’s. “Something only you could see. Something you weren’t able to share with the police.”

  It was impossible. There was no way Tina could know about Blue.

  “Tina, these pinpoints of light.” Lara picked up the articles and fanned them out. “They’re from the sun. If you’ll notice, three of them were taken outside. Only one was inside the shelter, and it was on our back porch, which has a bank of windows. There’s always stray light coming from somewhere.”

  Tina shook her head. Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m disappointed in you, Lara. I really thought you’d be honest with me. You seem like a straight shooter.”

  Straight shooter. Lara disliked the phrase.

  “Maybe you should tell me what you expected me to say.” Lara took a sip from her coffee mug. The stuff was powerful, but delicious.

  Tina turned and stared out the window, her lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, Lara thought her face was going to crumple. Then she whipped her cell phone out of her purse and went to her saved photos. She showed the first one to Lara.

  “There. Look at that. It’s me and my mom at our restaurant, back when it was still open.”

  Lara pulled Tina’s phone closer. In the picture, Tina stood behind a chair at which a fiftysomething woman was seated. The woman in the chair had high cheekbones and stunning, wide-set eyes. Both women smiled into the camera, joy evident in their expressions.

  “Your mom’s lovely,” Lara said, smiling. “You and she could almost be sisters.”

  Tina nodded. “Do you see anything above my right shoulder?”

  Lara looked again. In the pic, a small dot of light hovered a few inches above Tina’s right shoulder. “I see the spot of light,” she said, “but it only proves my point. There’s stray light everywhere. The camera just happens to catch it.”

  But even as she said it, she knew it wasn’t the truth.

  A lump formed in Lara’s stomach. Had a total stranger stumbled onto her secret?

  Tina took her cell phone back and swiped her way through several more photos. With each swipe, she held up the phone and extended it toward Lara. Most of the pics looked like selfies. A few had been taken in the bridal salon, probably as promotional photos. In every picture of Tina, a small dot of light floated above her right shoulder.

  Lara’s fingers felt suddenly ice cold, and she rubbed her hands together.

  Tina stuck her phone back in her purse. She spoke in a soft, almost childlike voice. “When I was eight years old, my grandma got very sick. She’d always lived with us, so I was especially close to her. She had a cat—Jade—a gorgeous Siamese kitty. Jade was sweet, vocal, and devoted to my grandmother. The cat loved everyone, but my grandma was
her world.”

  “I’ve known cats like that,” Lara said. “My aunt’s cat Dolce almost never leaves her lap.”

  Tina nodded and then took in a quiet breath. “Anyway, my grandma died a day before my ninth birthday. Sucky luck, especially for a kid who’d practically been counting the minutes to her birthday party.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Lara said.

  “Thanks. Her death was awful. I didn’t go back to school for a week. We all just…missed her so much, you know? She left a hole in our hearts.” Tina pressed her fingers to her eyes. “As hard as we took it—Mom, Dad, and me—it was worse for Jade. She wasn’t exactly a young’un herself—she’d recently turned fifteen. She just…lay there, almost comatose. She didn’t eat or drink. It was like she was telling us, ‘That’s it, I’m done. Mata ne.’ That’s like, See you later.”

  Lara felt a boulder lodge in her throat. At some point, every cat had to cross the bridge, but knowing that didn’t ease the sadness.

  “Jade crossed over one week to the minute, and I mean minute, Lara, from the time of my grandma’s death. I was there. I felt it. A huge ball of warmth, like a heating pad, suddenly rested on my shoulder. At first it felt heavy, but then it changed. It became soft and comforting. A little while later the warmth faded. But the light—that pinpoint of light that shows up in every picture of me—it means Jade is always there. She’s part of my grandma, watching over me.”

  Tina’s dark eyelashes were damp with unshed tears. Lara felt herself beginning to cry, but she forced it back. She glanced around to see if anyone noticed them, but the diner was nearly empty.

  There was no way Tina could’ve known about Blue. Only someone with her own feline guardian could recognize the signs.

  “Why don’t you be honest with me, Lara?” Tina urged. “Why don’t you tell me the truth? You have a spirit cat watching over you, don’t you?”

  And with that Lara broke down. She told Tina everything.

  Chapter 16

  Tina listened without speaking, absorbing every word.

  Lara began with the day she first saw Blue. It was the day she’d arrived at her aunt’s after a sixteen-year estrangement.