by Linda Reilly
“…is history.” Kayla perked up a little and smiled. “Sort of like fate, right?”
“Kind of,” Lara said.
“I hear you both, honestly I do. It’s just…most of the students I take classes with are girls. I don’t go to parties or bars like a lot of people my age. Frankly, I’d rather be with animals. If the right guy is going to drop into my life when I least expect it, he’s going to have to float out of the sky.”
Lara wanted so badly to tell Kayla that there was no shame in not being “hooked up,” as she put it. But she sensed that wasn’t what Kayla wanted to hear.
Without warning, a fluffy, cream-colored cat leaped onto the chair next to Kayla. Her turquoise eyes beaming, Blue gazed up at Kayla and reached out to her with one chocolate-colored paw.
Lara nearly gasped. She’d never seen Blue make a gesture quite like that. “Kayla,” she said softly. “There’s a friend with you right now—a furry friend, directly to your right.”
Kayla’s eyes popped open and she squeezed Snowball tighter. “Blue?” she whispered.
Lara nodded. “She reached out a paw to you. I’ve never seen her do that before.”
Kayla’s face relaxed, as if her anxiety had fled. “Oh, I wish I could touch her.”
Lara had wished the same thing, many times.
A quiet fell over the kitchen, a sudden sense of peace. Blue looked over at Lara, then leaped down. Lara peeked under the table, but she was gone.
“She’s gone, now,” Lara said.
Kayla let out a breath. “You know what’s weird?” she said quietly. “I’d have sworn I felt something brush my leg.”
That didn’t surprise Lara. She’d felt the same thing numerous times. Kayla was so in tune with cats and their moods, it seemed natural for Blue to want to comfort her.
“Hey, today’s an adoption day, right?” Kayla said, placing her hands on the table. “We’d better make sure the meet-and-greet room is ready.”
Lara grinned. Kayla was right. “What do you think, Aunt Fran? If anyone shows up, should we offer snacks or not?”
“I’ll let you make the final decision,” her aunt said. “But as far as I’m concerned, we are not under any cease-and-desist order. It never arrived, and we never saw it. I’m more convinced than ever that the whole thing was bogus.”
“My thoughts exactly!”
All week, Evonda’s horrible death had hung over them like a thundercloud, waiting to burst open with more bad news. But the shelter hadn’t done anything wrong or broken any rules.
They’d do what they always did. They’d make the shelter welcoming for anyone who came there to adopt.
As they cleaned up the table and set the dishes in the sink, the doorbell to the shelter rang. Kayla looked at her watch. “Twenty minutes early. Don’t people pay attention to the hours?”
“I’ll see who it is,” Lara said.
She went through the large parlor and out to the back porch. A face was peeking through the door pane.
Lara unlocked the door, her heart racing.
Was she letting a killer inside?
“Hi, Brian. I wasn’t expecting you.”
He came in and shut the door behind him, his face redder than usual. “Yeah, sorry. I probably should have called first. I just wanted to update you guys on a few things. But first, how’s my Smuggles doing?”
“He’s great,” Lara said. “Quiet, of course. But he’s eating and using the litter box, which is a good sign. I’m sure he misses you, though. Want me to bring him down for you?”
“Yeah, in a few minutes,” he said. “Mind if I sit for a few?”
Lara’s nerves jangled. Had he found out that she’d told the police about him taking the box to the recycling station?
“Sure. Have a seat,” she said.
He pulled out a chair and plunked himself down. His face was still flushed, whether from the heat or from something else Lara couldn’t tell.
“Would you like some lemonade?” she asked him, hoping he’d decline.
“Nah, I’m good,” he said, waving a hand.
Lara sat down and faced him. “You said you had something to tell us? Do you want me to get Aunt Fran?”
“No, I can tell you,” he said. “Two things. First, I found an apartment. Can’t start moving my stuff in till Monday, but at least I have a place. It’s roomy and has a great little nook in the front window where Smuggles can curl up in the sun. The landlord’s having it cleaned over the weekend, so it will be in move-in condition.”
“Sounds great. You lucked out,” Lara said.
“Maybe.” His face darkened. “Depends on the cops. That’s the second thing. For some stupid, freakin’ reason, they think I took one of those straps from the box I took to the recycling station for you. I didn’t even see any Polypropylene straps. Anyway, bottom line is—they think I strangled Evonda with one of them!”
Lara shook her head. “Brian. I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have let you take that box.” She didn’t see the need to tell him that the police had already questioned her about it.
“Hey, it’s not your fault. You helped me. I wanted to return the favor. Anyway, if I end up being taken into custody, I just want to be sure you’ll keep your promise to give Smuggles a permanent home here.”
Lara folded her hands on the table and looked at him. Was she staring into the eyes of a killer? Did his anger for Evonda spill over into a rage-filled murder?
Anything was possible. She’d learned that the hard way.
“Brian, I wouldn’t have promised if I didn’t mean it. Smuggles has a home here for as long as he needs us. This is a shelter. This is what we do. Besides, he’s sweet and not a bit of trouble.”
“Like I said before, you guys, I mean gals, are the best.” His face flushed. “Anyway, you know what I mean.” He laughed nervously, and his cheeks reddened. “I bet you think I’m some kind of weirdo, getting all choked up about my cat, right?”
Lara smiled. “You’re asking the wrong person. I never think it’s weird to get emotional over a cat. We do it here all the time.”
“The thing is,” Brian went on, “Smuggles saved my sanity after my wife and I got divorced three years ago. I never saw it coming. We’d had problems, sure, but she always acted like she wanted to work them out. Next thing I know, she’s packing her things and taking off for parts unknown.” He blinked back tears.
“Brian, I’m so sorry,” Lara said. “Is that when you adopted Smuggles?”
“Yeah. A woman where I work told me I should get a pet. I looked at her like, are you nuts? Then she told me about this older cat at the shelter where she volunteered. The cat came from a really bad sitch and needed a good home. I humored her by agreeing to meet Smuggles. One look into those sad eyes and it was all over. No way I’d let anyone else have that cat.”
“I like that story,” Lara said, choking back a lump. “It’s a good example of the healing power of pets.”
“Yeah, you said it.” Brian swiped at his face.
“Where do you work?” Lara asked him.
“I work for a company north of Concord that makes precision weather instruments. I’m a quality-control engineer. It’s a detail-oriented job, but that’s what I do best.”
Lara smiled and pushed away from the table. “I’ll go get Smuggles. Be back in a sec.”
She went upstairs to her bedroom, her thoughts spinning off in every direction. Smuggles snoozed peacefully on his oversize bed. Lara lifted him carefully and cuddled him to her chest. He purred and closed his eyes. Her own eyes filled with tears.
Please don’t let Brian be a murderer, she prayed silently.
She headed downstairs. Kayla was in the large parlor grooming Snowball, who badly needed the brushing. She seemed to shed more every day. “Hey, what’s happening?” Kayla asked. “You need any help?”
Lara held up a finger. “Be back in a minute.” She went into the meet-and-greet room, where Brian sat waiting.
The moment he saw Smuggles, he lost it. He took the cat into his arms and sobbed into his fur.
Lara knew exactly what he was thinking.
This might be the last time he ever saw his cat.
Chapter Twenty-One
Adoption day had been a bust, which didn’t really surprise Lara. News of the shelter’s troubles with Evonda had been making the rounds.
As much as she could, Lara put it out of her mind. Until Evonda’s killer was in police custody, things would probably remain in limbo for the shelter. So long as it didn’t affect the cats’ care, which it wouldn’t, Lara could deal with the uncertainty.
Her date with Gideon gave her something to look forward to. She put on her favorite pair of shorts—blazing pink—and a lacy cotton top. With her dangly kitty earrings and a swish of blush over her cheekbones, she was ready to roll.
The no-name clam shack sat slightly off the beaten track in Tamworth. Gideon swung into the parking lot and slowed to a crawl to hunt for an empty space.
“Yikes,” Lara said, angling her gaze all around. “The place is jam-packed.”
“Typical Friday night…ah, look at that. Someone just pulled out. How’s that for luck?” He pulled his car into the vacated space and shut off the engine.
“Good job, Gid. I’m starving, too. I hope the lines aren’t too long.”
In its prior life, the clam shack had been a ramshackle equipment shed that housed farming tools. An enterprising neighbor bought the land and transformed the shed into a seasonal eatery. The scent of deep-fried goodies wafted over them as they scooted up to stand in the shortest “Order” line.
Lara inhaled deeply. “I can already smell the onion rings. Sometimes I think I like those more than the clams.”
“Not me. Give me those deep-fried, whole-belly clams any day,” Gideon said, kissing her lightly on the temple. He slid his arm around Lara’s waist. “I always hate it when this place closes in September. Let’s make the most of it this year and eat here every Friday night, okay?”
Lara grinned. “You won’t hear me arguing,” she said, a ripple of happiness zinging through her. She loved it when Gideon talked about their future, even if it was something as trivial as eating at the clam shack.
She glanced all around. People still streamed out of their cars. Kids hopped ahead of their moms and dads, anxious to get to a window where food orders were taken. Lara spotted a familiar vehicle in the parking lot. “Isn’t that Charlie Backstrom’s truck?” She dipped her head toward the lot. “Next to that gorgeous red Vette?”
“Yeah, I think it is.” Gideon squinted at the vehicle. “You know what? That rear tire doesn’t look right to me. What do you think?”
Lara cupped her hand over her eyes. “I think it’s flat,” she said. “Strange he didn’t notice it getting low on the way over here.”
“If we see him, I’ll mention it,” Gideon said. “Maybe I can help him change it.”
They reached the window and ordered their food, then slid over to the pickup window and collected it a few minutes later. For such a busy place, the clam shack managed to prepare and dole out orders quickly and efficiently.
Behind the shack, picnic tables dotted a large clearing surrounded by towering firs. Lara looked for a free table but came up empty. They passed a table where two women and five kids sat munching on clams and fries. Lara grinned when the littlest tyke tossed a french fry to a waiting chipmunk. The animal scooted away, fry in its mouth, and headed into the woods.
“Yoo hoo! Over here!”
Lara turned to her right and saw someone waving at them. It was Nina Backstrom, sitting opposite her husband. “Lara, over here!”
Feeling a slight flicker of disappointment, Lara waved back. She’d hoped to enjoy a quiet meal alone with Gideon so they could chat. She had so many things to tell him. So many things she wanted his input on.
Maybe it was just as well. With all the surrounding chatter and laughter, it wasn’t the best place for a talk.
“Shall we sit with Nina and Charlie?” she said. “Otherwise we’ll have to eat in the hot car. Either that or wait for a table.”
“Sure, why not,” Gideon said, good-natured as ever. “We can tell Charlie about his tire.”
They wended their way around a half dozen tables until they reached Charlie and Nina’s. A large brown bag rested on the table between the couple, and their meals were spread out before them.
Lara sat on the bench next to Nina, and Gideon did the same beside Charlie.
“You sure you don’t mind us horning in on your date?” Lara teased, setting down their drinks.
“We don’t mind at all,” Nina said. “Do we, Charlie?” There was a sharp edge to her voice that surprised Lara.
Clad in his usual gray work shirt and cargo shorts, Charlie swallowed a bite of an onion ring with a loud gulp. “’Course not. Happy to have you guys.” He grinned at Lara. “After all, Lara and Fran are two of my best customers. Aren’t they, sweetie?”
Something in Charlie’s tone set off Lara’s radar. Were he and Nina smack in the middle of a tiff?
“They sure are,” Nina replied in a saccharine voice.
Lara glanced at Gideon, who was trying valiantly not to notice anything amiss. He opened the greasy brown bag that held their food and set everything on the table, then deftly changed the subject. “By the way, Charlie, we saw your truck in the lot. The rear tire looks flat.”
Charlie’s face flushed. “Well that’s darned odd. Nina’s car had a flat tire yesterday.” He looked over at his wife. “Did you notice my tire getting low?”
Nina’s finely shaped eyebrows dipped toward her nose. “If I’d noticed it, Charlie, I’d have said something, wouldn’t I?” She took a swig of the light-colored beer she was drinking.
Lara saw Gideon squirm slightly. She wasn’t the only one feeling suddenly uncomfortable. What was up with these two? She regretted, now, that she and Gideon hadn’t taken their food to eat in the car—or, even better, back to Aunt Fran’s, where they could sit under the maple tree and enjoy it in peace.
She was relieved when Gideon switched to a lighter topic. Before long, he and Charlie were engaged in a rousing discussion of the Red Sox and the team’s newest pitcher.
Nina leaned toward Lara, her expression somber. “Hey, I’ve been hearing about your latest troubles,” she said in a lowered voice. “I’m so sorry for everything you’re going through.”
“Thanks,” Lara said. “We’re doing okay, though. Once the police sort it all out, everything will fall into place.”
“You’re actually going to leave it to the police?” Nina tilted her head and gave Lara an odd smile.
For the first time, Lara felt annoyed with Nina. If she was trying to be funny, she’d failed dismally. Nothing about the events of the past week had been the slightest bit amusing.
“Naturally we’re going to leave it to the police,” Lara said coolly. “What else would we do?”
“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry,” Nina said instantly. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. It’s just…well, I heard about some of the other murders you were involved with. You know how it is. People talk.”
“That’s okay,” Lara said, but she still felt a little miffed. “But for the record, I was never involved with murders. I just happened to get into situations where killers kind of…fell into my lap.”
When she put it that way, it did sound suspect. Did Nina think she carried murder around like a virus?
“Charlie and I were looking forward to your grand opening tomorrow.” Nina aimed a french fry toward her mouth. “I’m sorry you had to cancel it.” She popped in the fry and chewed it slowly.
Why did Nina have to remind her of that? Lara felt bad enoug
h that they’d postponed the unveiling of the new reading room. “Yeah, I am, too,” she said, nabbing an onion ring off her paper plate. “But it was for the best. We’ll still have it, after things settle down.”
“You’ll still invite us, right?” Nina asked.
Lara laughed. “Believe me, you and Charlie are at the top of the guest list.”
Nina smiled, but she looked troubled. She glanced off toward the parking lot. Was she trying to spot Charlie’s truck? She’d seemed irked when he asked her about the tire.
With Charlie sitting right there, Lara didn’t want to ask her if anything was wrong. Clearly, something was. Lara concentrated on eating her meal, but her appetite had fizzled. Even the onion rings, which she normally inhaled, didn’t have the same appeal.
Lara slid a look over at Gideon, who seemed to be eating faster than usual. He swallowed his last crispy-fried clam and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “Charlie, what do you say we take a look at that tire?”
“Sounds like a plan, man.” Charlie clapped him lightly on the shoulder. He stared hard at Nina, who averted her eyes.
The men went off to the parking lot. Lara felt as if she could finally breathe.
Nina looked down at her barely touched food, her delicate features pinched. She took a long pull on her beer.
A sudden wave of compassion washed over Lara. Despite Nina’s earlier digs about Lara’s involvement with murders, she didn’t want to see Nina suffer. She’d come to think of her as a friend, even if she wasn’t a close one.
“We probably spoiled your evening,” Nina said in a choked voice.
Lara reached over and touched her arm. “You didn’t. Not at all, Nina. But something is obviously bothering you.”
Nina nodded.
“Did you and Charlie have an argument?”
“Argument?” Her laugh was harsh. “I guess you could call it that. The fact is, we argue all the time. About everything.”
Lara was stunned. She’d always had the impression that Nina and Charlie’s banter with each other had been coquettish, the barbs tossed with an undercurrent of love. Had she totally misjudged their relationship?
