The Girl with the Kitten Tattoo

by Linda Reilly

  “Sherry texted me that she has some news, but I think I’m going to skip the coffee shop this morning.”

  Aunt Fran took a sip of her tea, then set down her mug and looked at Lara. “I wish I could help you with everything you’re going through, Lara, but I suspect this is something you have to work out yourself.”

  “Thank you,” Lara said, forcing a smile. “That alone helps, more than you know. And you know what? It will all work out, eventually. I just have to give it time.”

  Time I don’t have. Sherry’s wedding day is nipping at my heels!

  Aunt Fran’s cell rang. She answered in her professional-sounding voice. “Fran Clarkson.”

  Lara watched as her aunt’s expression changed from curious to pleased. “Well, I guess I have a job today,” she said after she disconnected. “One of the teachers at the middle school called in sick with the flu, so I’ve been asked to sub.”

  “Excellent! I mean, not that the woman is sick, but…oh, you know what I mean.” She knew Aunt Fran loved it when she was called in to sub.

  Her aunt rose and began quickly cleaning up her dishes. “They apparently called a few other subs first, but all of them were sick as well,” she said with a chuckle. “I guess I’m the last one to be asked to the dance.”

  “Not the last—the best.” Lara shooed her aunt away. “Go on. I’ll clean up the dishes. You go get ready for school.”

  Aunt Fran winked at her. “Yes, ma’am. It won’t take me long to get ready. But I just thought of something. Do you need the car today?”

  “Nope. I have no plans other than hanging around here for adoption day. You go!”

  After tidying up the kitchen, Lara dressed and went into her studio. She was determined to complete at least two sketches for Amy to look over. The watercolor, once completed, was going to be one of the best she’d ever done.

  She pulled out all the photos Amy had supplied—including several of her three Australian shepherds—and clipped them to her easel. The young male was Bo; his mom and sister were Dotty and Freida. Lara had met all three dogs. They were feisty, friendly, and full of energy. Depicting them dashing across a snow-covered field was going to be a fun project.

  Lara worked for about an hour before deciding to take a break. She’d made some progress, finally. One detailed sketch was completed, and she’d made decent headway on the second. Something still bugged her about the older photo of the farmhouse and the two pics Amy had recently emailed.

  Her cell rang. Please be Gideon, she thought, snatching it out of her pocket. He hadn’t texted that morning, nor had she texted him.

  Her stomach rolled over when she saw the caller’s name. “Lara Caphart,” she answered brusquely.

  “Oh, um, hi, it’s Tina. Is this a good time to call?” No doubt she’d picked up on Lara’s sharp tone.

  “Yes, it’s fine. What can I do for you?”

  “Nothing,” Tina said, her voice wary now. “I mean, nothing except I wanted to let you know that we got a shipment in this morning. Your shoes came in, and they’re gorgeous. I can’t wait till you see them.”

  The shoes—the ones she’d bought to wear at Sherry’s wedding. As desperately as she wanted them, Lara was tempted to tell Tina to refund her money and sell them to someone else.

  Instead she said, “Fine. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll be in Bakewell on Monday. I’ll pick them up then, assuming you’re open.”

  Tina’s voice tightened. “Yes, the salon is only closed on Sundays. Lara, is something wrong? You sound weird.”

  “Nothing’s wrong, except that I met one of your employers yesterday. Jeannie Jennings.”

  After a short silence, Tina sighed and said, “I’m the one who referred her to your shelter. What’s wrong, didn’t you like her?”

  “I liked her very much,” Lara said. “In fact, she gave your name as a reference. She wants to adopt one of the cats from our shelter, a little tortie named Sienna.”

  “I know. She told me. Jeannie is a wonderful cat mom. I have only glowing things to say about her. And I’ve seen her with Bunny. She absolutely adores him.”

  “Thank you. That’s good to know. I’ll take that as a positive reference.”

  Tina sighed again, louder this time. “Are you mad because I didn’t tell you I worked for the company that catered Chancer’s party?”

  “Not mad,” Lara said. “Disappointed.” She knew she sounded like a stern schoolmarm, but she couldn’t help it. “And, to be honest, a little suspect. You were at the party that night, but when you and I were discussing it at the diner, you never mentioned it.”

  “I didn’t know I was required to tell you everything,” Tina replied tartly. “The police know I was there, and they interviewed me at length. They’re also well aware of how much I despised Chancer. Since I’m not currently in custody, it’s obvious they believed me.”

  Or did they? Maybe they were only biding their time until they can gather enough evidence.

  “By the way, why are you coming to Bakewell on Monday?” Tina asked. “Don’t tell me you’re going to the memorial service for that lowlife.”

  Lara hesitated. She hadn’t wanted to tell Tina about her plans.

  “Oh my God,” Tina said before Lara could respond. “You’re going with Megan, aren’t you? She wheedled you into it, didn’t she?”

  “I’m not going with Megan,” Lara said.

  Lara wished she could see Tina’s expression right now. The young woman tended to wear her feelings on her sleeve. She’d noticed that the day they chatted at the diner. Should she drive over to Bakewell today to pick up her shoes? Talk to Tina in person?

  No, today was an adoption day. Plus, Aunt Fran had the car. Even if no one showed up at the shelter this afternoon, Lara still had to be prepared. Besides, she was tired of driving to Bakewell. Monday would be soon enough. After she picked up her shoes and accompanied Karen to the memorial service, she’d say goodbye to Bakewell—forever.

  “Lara, look,” Tina said, sounding contrite. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my being at the party that night. I was afraid you’d think I was guilty of something I didn’t do. But believe me when I tell you, Chancer never saw me that night. If he had, he’d have tossed me out so fast my head would’ve spun. I stayed in the kitchen the whole time, preparing food and setting up trays. He never set foot in the kitchen, and I was careful to stay out of sight.”

  “But why did you work the party in the first place, Tina? That’s what I’m really struggling with.”

  “I work every job I can,” Tina answered quietly. “I’m saving money so I can buy my folks’ restaurant property and turn it into a commercial kitchen for my cookie business. They don’t know it yet. I’m going to surprise them. But I need enough for a down payment. Every penny I save gets me closer to that goal.”

  Lara rubbed her eyes. Now she felt terrible for chiding Tina.

  “I thought you had a potential buyer for the building?” Lara said.

  “It didn’t pan out. The offer was ridiculous, but it was a blessing in disguise. I’ve known for a while what I wanted to do.”

  “Tina, look, I’m sorry, too. You’re right—I’m not a cop, and I had no right to question you. I’ll see you on Monday, okay? If you’re at the bridal salon, that is.”

  “I’ll be here from noon on. See you then.” Tina disconnected without saying goodbye.

  * * * *

  Kayla swept through the kitchen door at around eleven thirty. “Hey, I stopped at the coffee shop to pick up more cookies. I noticed yesterday we were getting low.” She set a large container on the countertop.

  “We were?” Lara said. “Thanks. I didn’t even notice. I should have been paying more attention.”

  Kayla pulled off her scarf and gloves and plunked them on a free chair, then peeled off her jacket. “Daisy had two batches all ready fo
r you. She’d been keeping them in the freezer so they’d stay fresh. She really has a nice business going for herself with those cookies, doesn’t she?”

  Lara smiled. “She does. The timing was good, too. With Sherry and David getting married, she’ll need more help in the coffee shop. The extra income from the cookies has been coming in very handy.”

  A little over a year before, Daisy had landed a gig with a high-end gift basket company in Moultonborough. Every cellophane-wrapped cookie they tucked into their beautiful baskets was baked and decorated by Daisy. Recently, Daisy had added to her repertoire with all sorts of new, fun-shaped cookie cutters. She’d even found one shaped like an antique car, which she used to bake cookies for a gift basket for the opening of a new car dealership.

  Kayla’s eyes widened. “Isn’t Sherry going to work at the coffee shop anymore?”

  Lara set down a mug of tea for Kayla. “She is, but she wants to cut back her hours a bit. Who knows, one of these days she and David might decide to expand their family.”

  “Not too soon, I hope,” Kayla said dryly. “Once you have kids you’re stuck, literally.”

  Kayla was a bit jaded when it came to kids. Every weekend, her cousins and their little ones descended on their grandmother’s home and made Kayla the de facto babysitter. While she adored her nieces and nephews, Kayla sometimes felt overwhelmed by them. And underappreciated by their parents.

  “Um, Sherry was a little bummed that you didn’t go there for coffee this morning,” Kayla said carefully. “She told me to tell you.”

  “I figured she would be. It’s just that I have so much going on right now, you know? Sometimes I need a little space.”

  Kayla nodded. “No explanation needed. I totally get it. Hey, did you review Jeannie Jennings’s application yet? She sounded like a shoo-in to be Sienna’s new mom.”

  “Yeah, I think so, too,” Lara said, smiling. “I have one other reference to check, but then I think we’re good. I know she’s anxious to pick up her little newbie early next week.”

  Panda trotted into the kitchen and made a beeline for Kayla, who grinned as the black-and-white kitty hopped onto her lap. “Hey, it’s about time you came in to see me.” She took the cat’s face in her hands and kissed him soundly on the snout.

  “You won’t believe who called me this morning,” Lara said, sitting down with her own cup of tea. “Tina Tanaka.”

  “Whoa. What did she want?”

  Lara related the highlights of their phone conversation, including Tina’s bombshell that she’d been at Chancer’s party the night he died.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. Why didn’t she tell you that before?”

  “She was afraid I’d peg her as being guilty of something. Plus, she didn’t think it was any of my business, especially since she’d already been interviewed by the police.”

  “I guess she has a point. So, what do you think? Could she have killed Chancer?”

  Lara blew on her tea and then took a sip. “At this stage, I’m thinking anyone could have killed Chancer. I don’t think I’ve talked to one person who had a good word to say about him.”

  Lara debated whether to tell Kayla about the note—the one Karen Chancer claimed was found near her husband’s body. I know who you are. She recalled Lieutenant Cutler’s warning not to mention the note to anyone. Or was it only a suggestion?

  “I keep wondering,” Lara said, “if Chancer could have been leading some sort of double life.”

  Kayla tickled Panda under the chin. “Why would you think that?”

  “The day I met Karen Chancer, she told me something strange. She said the police found a note near Chancer’s body that read ‘I know who you are.’”

  Kayla’s eyes widened, and a hint of glee danced in her gaze. “What? Why didn’t you tell me that before? Chancer might have been leading a secret other life. We need to do some serious digging on this guy!”

  Lara laughed. She knew Kayla was an aficionado of true crime. Her scrapbook of articles about criminals who’d been nabbed in the Granite State had grown ever larger with each major arrest. “I should have known that would light a fire under you.”

  “Yeah…well, you know I follow the true crime shows. Especially if they take place in New Hampshire.”

  “Remember, if Karen was telling the truth, then the police must have the note. I’m sure they’ve been doing plenty of digging on their own.”

  Kayla raised her eyebrows and grinned. “Yeah, but the police don’t have a spirit cat who knows more than us mere mortals.”

  “Kayla,” Lara said, her tone serious now, “I think it’s best we don’t talk about Blue. As it is, Lieutenant Cutler thinks I’m a half-baked girl detective who’s always poking her nose in everyone’s business and getting into trouble. Any mention of a spirit cat, and he’ll really blow a gasket.”

  “I hear you,” Kayla said with a slight pout. She lowered her voice. “I’m only wondering if you’d picked up on any clues lately. I won’t elaborate more than that.”

  “No clues, except…” Lara thought back to the day at the Peach Crate when Blue cozied up to Felicia’s dog, Lily.

  “Except what?” Kayla said impatiently.

  Lara told her about Blue snuggling up to Felicia’s little white dog at the gourmet food shop.

  “I’ll bet Lily sensed Blue’s presence,” Kayla reflected. “Animals are so much more in tune with the spiritual world than humans are.”

  “Maybe,” Lara said.

  “By the way, where’s Ms. C today? Upstairs with Twinkles?”

  “No, the school called her in to sub today. She was thrilled. I think she really misses teaching.”

  Kayla nodded. “I’ll bet she’s a great teacher, too. Why doesn’t she go back full-time?”

  “I think she likes the flexibility of being a sub. She’s been seeing more and more of the chief, and sometimes on his days off they enjoy taking day trips.”

  “Say no more.” Kayla grinned.

  They finished their tea and set about doing some litter box cleaning and cat grooming. Sienna climbed onto the perch in the large parlor, while Amber stayed in Lara’s room in her own favorite spot.

  “It’s weird,” Kayla said, wrapping up a trash bag with a plastic tie. “I don’t think we’ve had this few cats in a while.”

  “I know,” Lara said. “I’ve been thinking of reaching out to another shelter to see if they’d like us to take one or two of their cats. But with Sherry’s wedding, and then…everything else, my mind hasn’t been too focused.”

  The doorbell to the shelter’s entrance rang, and Kayla frowned at Lara. “Way too early for adoption hours. Did you make an appointment with someone?”

  “Nope.”

  Kayla trailed Lara into the meet-and-greet room and closed the door behind them. Lara flicked on the light. Through the glass door pane, they saw a man and a woman huddled on the step. The woman peeked inside and waved when she spotted Lara.

  Putting on her best smile, Lara hurried to open the door. “Hi, there,” she greeted. “Come on in out of the cold.”

  “Oh, thank you,” the woman said, practically tripping over the top step to rush inside. She clutched at the collar of her green wool coat. “I hope we came to the right place. We’re here about a”—she shot a look at her male companion and he blinked in acknowledgment—“about a cat.”

  Lara’s guard instantly went up. Why the weird look between them?

  She smiled again and ushered them over to the table, where the couple sat down. “If you’re here about a cat, then you came to the right place. Why don’t you both have a seat? I’m Lara, and this is Kayla.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Kayla said, shaking their hands. Her expression was wary, and Lara knew she’d picked up the same strange vibe from the pair.

  “We’re the Emersons,” the woman said. “
Sally and Art.”

  Without being asked, they simultaneously unbuttoned their coats and draped them over the backs of their chairs. Apparently, they planned to hang for a while.

  Lara guessed them to be somewhere in their sixties, but there was a stodginess about them that aged them well beyond that. The woman wore her dark-brown, chin-length hair in carefully curled waves. Her pearl earrings were clip-ons, and a matching pearl brooch in the shape of a butterfly rested on the collar of her pink turtleneck sweater. Her husband, attired totally in shades of beige and brown, had pale brown eyes set deeply into a slightly pudgy face.

  “Can I get you anything?” Kayla asked. “Something to drink?”

  “Oh no, we wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble,” Sally said hesitantly.

  “You know what?” Kayla said brightly, “why don’t I bring in a pot of tea with some mugs, and we can all help ourselves.” She dashed out of the room before anyone could protest.

  Lara addressed the couple. “So, tell me, how did you hear about our shelter?”

  Art cleared his throat and folded his hands on the table. “I’ll be right up front. It was our niece, Megan Haskell, who told us all about you.”

  Zing.

  Lara’s mental antennae shot straight out of her head.

  “I see,” she said stiffly. “So, you’re not really here about a cat, are you?”

  “Oh no, we are,” Sally was quick to correct her husband. She fussed with the sleeves of her sweater. “Oh my, I’m not handling this well at all, am I?”

  “Dear.” Art reached over and touched his wife’s wrist. “Why don’t you explain first about Megan.”

  “You’re right. Of course.” Sally lifted her chin and looked at Lara. “Megan is my brother’s daughter. For the last several months, she’s been living with us in Bakewell.”

  “Megan did tell me she was living with her aunt and uncle,” Lara acknowledged.

  Sally nodded, then continued. “You have to understand about Megan. She’s such a lovely, smart girl. It’s a shame she had to grow up the way she did.” She shook her head sadly.

  “What do you mean?” Lara said, feeling her gut clench.