Mimi Lee Gets a Clue

by Jennifer J. Chow

  As I drove back home, I thought about my top two priorities again. I didn’t know where the killer lived, but I certainly knew where my so-called boyfriend did. I would go over at the crack of dawn and confront him about skipping out on Family Game Night.

  CHAPTER

  nineteen

  IN THE CHILLY predawn, even Marshmallow with his thick fuzzy coat shivered. I clutched my thermos of hot tea and took huge gulps.

  “How long will we have to wait out here?” Marshmallow asked.

  “As long as it takes. I made sure to check the carport, and all the spots were filled, which means he must be home.” I stood right outside of apartment number one, planning to accost Josh on his way out.

  “You should have brought over some comfy chairs for us.”

  “At least we have this.” I unrolled the yoga mat I’d taken from my place. I must’ve bought it when I was on a Pilates kick, but now it sat unused in my hall closet.

  Marshmallow lay down on the mat. “Where’s the cushioning on this thing?” he asked.

  “It’s for stretching and exercising, not sleeping.” I tapped his paw. “Hey, maybe we can do some cat-oga while we wait.”

  Marshmallow yowled. “No way, sister.”

  At the sound of the plaintive crying, Josh’s door creaked open an inch. Eek. How could he look so cute at this hour? His hair looked mussed, and he was wiping sleep from his eyes. “Mimi? Marshmallow? Are you two doing exercises in front of my unit?”

  “Finally, a chance for me to escape into a place with heat.” Marshmallow slipped through the open gap of the door while I steadied my voice.

  “We’re here to see you,” I said, rolling up the mat.

  He bent down. “Let me help with that.”

  “No thanks.”

  His closeness and the faint whiff of pine made me heady. Why did he always smell so good? My fingers fumbled.

  “Must be a slippery mat,” Josh said. “Or the cold’s chilling your hands.” He blew a burst of warm air across my fingertips. “Please come inside.”

  I finished with the mat and entered his apartment. If I had expected a messy bachelor pad, I didn’t find it. No dishes were piled up in the sink. In fact, they sat in an orderly row, drying inside a bamboo rack. The place looked tidy, even ready for company.

  However, the walls, with their lack of framed pictures, did scream a blinding white. But with his busy job, maybe he didn’t have the time to decorate—or maybe he didn’t want to damage the walls. The security deposit at our complex wasn’t anything to sneeze at. The hassles of apartment living.

  Josh motioned me farther in. “Have a seat anywhere. Looks like your cat snagged a place in the dining room.”

  “I adore your decor,” Marshmallow said. He’d laid claim to a spot at the (literal) head of a fish-shaped dining table.

  The chairs and table were made from solid pine (maybe that explained Josh’s yummy woodsy smell). The chairs had silver cushions with a layered design that mimicked fish scales.

  “Interesting table,” I said, sitting down at one side.

  “My parents bought it for me. Said it would remind me of home. It’s the Hawaiian state fish, you know, the humuhumunukunu kuapua`a.”

  I stared at him for a beat. “Gesundheit.”

  “That’s really the name of the fish.”

  I traced my fingers across a fin. “Do your parents live close by?”

  “No, they’re still on the main island.”

  Josh sat down beside me and stopped my fin tracing. “You didn’t come here to talk about my family.”

  I pulled my hand away from him and sighed. “I came to talk about mine.”

  He hung his head. “I’m really sorry—”

  I dropped my gaze and concentrated on the fish’s tail, tracing its shape to keep me from crying.

  “I barely had time to text you. I had to do it in secret during my review.”

  My head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

  His face clouded. “The partners called me in for an impromptu performance meeting.”

  “Right before Family Game Night?” What disastrous timing.

  Josh blew air out of his mouth, making his bangs fly up. “My colleague got me in trouble. Told them I was trying to sneak out early and leave for the day with my work only half-done.”

  I tapped against a wooden fish scale in thought. “I can probably guess who tattled. Your nosy neighbor, Mr. Bras before Bruhs.”

  “The very same charming fellow.”

  I lifted my head and locked eyes with Josh. “Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve understood.”

  “The meeting went long, and I didn’t want to ruin your Family Game Night.”

  Marshmallow gave a slow shake of his head. “Own up to it, man.”

  “I do understand, but I was also looking forward to introducing you to my parents and Alice,” I said. Plus, it would make the Josh-and-me thing official.

  A flush crept up Josh’s face. “To be totally honest, I was kind of scared about meeting your whole family. I should’ve just shown up late. Mimi, I messed up.”

  A growl erupted from my stomach, and I tried to cover my tummy with my hands.

  “Told you to eat breakfast,” Marshmallow said.

  Josh sprang from his chair and rushed to his kitchen, where I saw him retrieve a small frying pan. “Food always helps me feel better.”

  “I was too nervous to eat before,” I whispered to Marshmallow under the sound of Josh’s cooking.

  “Never stops me.” Marshmallow sniffed the air. “The grub doesn’t smell half-bad.”

  Josh soon placed a breakfast plate in front of me: two eggs sunny-side up and a frown of a bacon slice. He clasped his hands together and pleaded. “Forgive me?”

  “Maybe a little,” I said, digging in.

  He gave me a dashing smile and ran back to the kitchen. He then put out a bowl of milk for Marshmallow. “I need to apologize to you, too, because you’re part of the Lee family.”

  Marshmallow sniffed at it and turned his nose up.

  Josh scratched his head. “I thought cats liked milk.”

  Marshmallow pushed the bowl away with his paws. “Oh, grasshopper, you have so much to learn. I’m lactose intolerant.”

  I pointed at Marshmallow. “Many adult cats can’t digest milk too well,” I said. “They don’t have the right enzyme to break it down.”

  “Oh.” Josh sat back down with a small sigh. “Maybe it’s best I stick to subjects I know, like law.”

  I nudged his shoulder. “How did the performance review go, anyway?”

  He slid a palm down his face. “Horrible. They said I’m working at an unsatisfactory level. Claimed I lack concentration. I guess the same colleague also tattled about you dropping by the office and taking up my time with a pro bono case.”

  “The partners didn’t like that? I thought lawyers were supposed to take on free cases.” I speared the piece of bacon with my fork.

  Josh sighed. “I can’t assist, not technically. The bosses want me to focus on billable hours, meaning work that actually pays.”

  “How much time do you need to put in?”

  “A typical associate bills over two thousand hours a year, but not all the time spent working is billable. So it translates to at least sixty hours a week.”

  I dropped my fork with a clatter. “That sounds like a lot. You really should focus on other cases, then.”

  He turned to me and touched my shoulder. “I’ll still make time for you.”

  “That’s very sweet of you,” I said, but I knew I’d only contact Josh if I truly needed him.

  “And with me being so busy, it’s probably wise not to go sleuthing by yourself.”

  “But I’m not alone,” I said. “I’ve got the extremely talented Marshmallow.”
/>   Thinking I was joking, Josh laughed.

  But Marshmallow purred and said, “I am the very best.”

  Josh checked the kitchen clock and frowned. He said he’d need to leave soon to get in all those billable hours, so I finished my breakfast with a few big bites. Then I grabbed my mat and thermos, whistling for Marshmallow to follow me out the door.

  When we got back to our place, Marshmallow spoke up. “Thanks for complimenting me back there.”

  “You do make a great investigative partner.”

  “What are you saying?” Marshmallow arched his back. “I’m the lead detective on this case.”

  “Ha. And who have you interrogated lately?”

  Wait a minute. That gave me a light bulb idea. I needed to learn the identity of the mystery lady who’d visited Russ Nolan the night of his demise, and who could tell me about that?

  Kevin Walker had left before the woman had even shown up. Russ Nolan’s neighbor Shirl denied seeing anything at all that night. And Magnus hadn’t spotted anyone besides the “dozing” Russ Nolan when he’d rescued the dogs.

  Of course, Russ Nolan himself couldn’t be contacted without a serious séance. But I could ask for info from more than spirits and two-legged eyewitnesses. There were some furry creatures who’d been on the scene as well. A talented cat who could translate dog to human-ese would come in handy right about now.

  “I have just the job for you, Investigator Marshmallow,” I said. “However, it may involve some breaking in . . .”

  * * *

  • • •

  After I’d finished up with my grooming clients for the day, Marshmallow and I waited until night fully blanketed the landscape. I changed into an all-black ensemble, because that’s how they do it in the movies, right?

  “I’ll lead the way when we get there,” Marshmallow said. “Humans have horrible night vision.”

  Reaching Oak Lane, I slid my quiet Prius in like a shadow a few houses down from Magnus Cooper’s place. I could see lights gleaming from his upstairs. We crept around the perimeter trying to figure out how to access the rear yard.

  A chain-link fence secured the back area, but I thought I could scale it. The patterned gaps would serve as hand- and footholds.

  I moved closer to the fence, and security floodlights flashed on. I froze for a few moments, my heart thumping.

  When I detected no movement from within the house, I gripped the metal wire with sweaty fingers. I’d climbed trees as a kid, but scaling the fence took longer than I’d anticipated. I huffed and puffed to get over the top, while Marshmallow flipped over it like an acrobat.

  He sat waiting for me on the other side, licking his paw. “What took you so long?”

  “Easy for you to say. Cats are natural gymnasts.”

  “Having only two legs throws you off,” Marshmallow said. “Come follow me. And try not to make too much noise.”

  Tiptoeing after Marshmallow, I snuck over to the warehouse. I recalled Magnus saying they kept the door to it unlocked in case of fire.

  I turned to Marshmallow and asked, “Did we think this through? What about the dogs? Won’t they give us away with their frenzied barking?”

  His eyes gleamed in the dark. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Just slide the door open a crack.”

  I did as he requested and watched as Marshmallow crept up to the door’s edge. He gave a short meow. A moment later, he received some yips back. He then made a few strong purrs, and the dogs inside grew silent.

  “What did you say?” I asked him.

  “Told them we’re doing an official investigation. Said I’m a police cat.”

  “Come again?”

  Marshmallow flicked a dismissive paw at the warehouse. “Dogs are so gullible.”

  We crept forward into the dark interior of the warehouse. I followed Marshmallow’s form past stalls of quiet dogs. A few of them whimpered or panted in low tones, but none caused a ruckus.

  We traveled to the very back of the warehouse, where we located the door to the nursery.

  “Pull the handle,” Marshmallow said. “But let me go in first.”

  I used my fingers to touch the door’s surface, because my eyes still couldn’t make out much besides outlines. When I felt a rectangular bar, I yanked on it. The door opened a foot wide, letting a soft glow of light spill out. Marshmallow darted inside.

  Excited barks erupted inside the room. I looked toward the front of the building. Could they hear the noise from the main house?

  Must have been too far, because no one came running to check. Finally, the barking subsided.

  I saw Marshmallow’s eyes glint at me from the doorway. “They’re ready for you,” he said.

  I slipped into the nursery but left the door not quite shut. The worst situation would be getting trapped inside if there happened to be an auto-locking mechanism. No way would I be able to explain my presence to Magnus without getting hauled away in handcuffs.

  The soft glow in the room I’d noticed before came from a few battery-operated night-lights. Maybe they calmed the little puppies down. A strong lavender scent permeated the air.

  As I looked around the room, the nursery seemed full of furballs. A few puppies yipped at me, while a number just circled and wagged their tails. Several adult female dogs lay watching us but didn’t move toward me. Their eyes flicked back and forth between Marshmallow and me.

  I couldn’t believe these were the same puppies I’d seen drenched in filth before. (Although some of the dogs must have belonged to the mamas in the room, because they shared glossy coats of black and white instead of the tan of Russ Nolan’s dogs.) However, all the puppies seemed well-kept and happy in this cozy space.

  I walked toward a cute tan runt and reached out to pet it. One of the adult females rushed at me, growling.

  “No touching,” Marshmallow told me.

  “Is that the mama? She has the wrong color fur.”

  He shook his head. “The mother of Russ Nolan’s puppies isn’t around. From what the puppies tell me, they got taken from their mother real young and nursed on bottles by the breeder.

  “Also,” Marshmallow said, “I told the mama dogs you’d stay near the exit. That way you’re not a threat to the little ones.”

  “Fine.” I backed up and leaned against the doorframe. “Have at it, Marshmallow.”

  It was strange watching Marshmallow interview the puppies. His meowing got drowned out by a chorus of energetic jumping and barking.

  “Maybe I should speak with them separately.” Marshmallow tried to get the dogs to line up, but they all huddled together.

  “You could talk to just one of them,” I said.

  “Okay. I’ll pick the oldest, the ringleader.” He singled out the biggest of the tan pups.

  After a flurry of back-and-forth exchanges, Marshmallow translated for me. “This is Tigre, the most coherent of the bunch. He says they never saw a lady in the house. When Magnus came to free them, nobody else was around.”

  “And where exactly was Russ Nolan during the rescue?” I had to make sure I’d gotten an accurate accounting from Magnus.

  Marshmallow relayed my question, and Tigre gave a few growls. The runt I’d tried to touch in the beginning also whimpered.

  “Russ Nolan was outside sleeping in a chair,” Marshmallow said. “In fact, little Sparky here tried to check on the breeder. Thankfully, the man slept through the rescue.”

  “So Magnus took them out the front?” I said. “That was risky.”

  “Easier than crossing paths with an irate Russ Nolan.” Marshmallow meowed at Tigre again, who responded right away.

  Marshmallow nodded at me. “Yes, they went through the front, though it took a while. Little Sparky was slow to leave Russ Nolan’s side.”

  “And there was definitely no sign of a woman in the whole ho
use?”

  Marshmallow asked Tigre, but a few other dogs added their sharp barks to the discussion.

  “Interesting,” Marshmallow told me. “No woman was seen, but the puppies sensed he’d had a visitor that night. Let me get the full story.”

  Marshmallow turned to Tigre, who gathered all the dogs in the litter together. They each gave a few barks in an uncoordinated doggie chorus.

  Marshmallow turned back to me and provided a summary. “This is what they know: Russ Nolan had company over, because they heard the clinking of glass.”

  I nodded. “He probably uncorked his bottle of wine.”

  “Also, they heard a lady walking around with clattering steps. Maybe high heels? The doorbell rang after that—”

  My eyes widened. “Did he have three visitors in one night? Magnus, the mystery lady, and someone else?”

  “The visitor who rang the doorbell smelled like musty potpourri.”

  “Shirl,” I said. “It has to be.” Why had she kept mum, then? What had she witnessed that had made her go silent?

  Marshmallow continued, “However, the potpourri visitor soon left. Minutes passed, and the dogs heard angry voices in the house. The lady click-clacked away and slammed the front door.”

  “Anything after that?”

  “Russ Nolan’s heavy tread clomped throughout the house. Then he settled outside.”

  “And nothing afterward?”

  “No, at least not within the confines of the house. And with all the excitement and the late hour, the dogs started dozing off.”

  Hmm. Had someone crept back in while the dogs had been sleeping? Could it have been the mystery lady, maybe come back with a vengeance? After all, there had been raised voices. Who was she, anyway?

  I tapped my foot on the nursery floor. “The puppies don’t know anything about the lady in heels?”

  Marshmallow addressed the dogs. One of them gave a small squeak in reply.

  Prodding the puppy forward, Marshmallow said, “This little lass remembers the woman had a familiar orange scent. The smell still lingered in the air when they left with Magnus.”