by Paige Sleuth
“He might,” Meg said. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about cats after all of my years fostering, it’s that they don’t like to be too predictable.”
Stumpy did come, although he moved at the speed of a snail. When he finally made it to Maura, he sniffed each one of her fingers, looking ready to take off again if any of them failed to meet his approval. But Maura must have passed the test because soon he closed his eyes and pressed his head into her palm.
Everyone in the room let out a collective breath.
“Isn’t he the sweetest thing,” Maura whispered, almost reverently.
“He likes you,” Meg said. “Give him another half hour and he might even sit in your lap.”
“Unfortunately, we don’t have that long,” Maura said, checking her watch. “Kat and I should be getting back to the office soon.”
Meg stood up. “I’ll walk you out. Let me know what you decide about Stumpy, okay? Or come see him again when you have more time. Once he learns to trust you I think you’ll discover he has a delightful temperament. And if you do end up adopting him, I’m positive you won’t regret it.”
“I’ll definitely think about it,” Maura promised, but Kat could tell from the huge smile on her face that her mind was already made up.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Hey, look who’s here,” Maura said as she pulled into the parking lot outside the DataRightly building.
Kat peered out the windshield but didn’t see anyone. “Who?”
“It’s that white cat.” Maura turned off the engine and pointed. “Over there.”
Kat saw him then. He was hunched over the kibble she had left out this morning.
“He’s wolfing down that food like he hasn’t eaten in weeks,” Maura commented, taking off her seat belt.
Kat recalled the zest with which Matty and Tom had devoured their wet food yesterday. Although she knew the white cat’s own appetite didn’t necessarily mean this was the first meal he’d eaten in a while, his enthusiasm wasn’t easing any of her fears about him being out here on his own.
Maura reached for her door handle. “You want to try to catch him again?”
Kat climbed out of the passenger seat. “You don’t mind? You were going to show me that section of code that’s been giving you headaches.”
“That can wait.” Maura looked at her watch. “Besides, we’ve still got twenty minutes left on our lunch break.”
“I’ll see you upstairs in fifteen,” Kat promised.
“Take your time.” Maura waved as she ducked into the building.
The sound of the door opening and closing prompted the white cat to lift his head. His gaze locked with Kat’s, but he seemed more curious than scared.
“Hi there,” Kat said, moving closer. “Remember me?”
He licked his paw and used it to scrub one side of his face.
“I left that food for you,” Kat told him. “I have two of your kind at home, and the thought of you out here without anything to eat really bothered me.”
The cat set his paw back on the ground, his tail sweeping across the snow.
“Do you have food where you live?” Kat asked.
The feline stared at her.
Kat sighed. “I wish you could talk.”
He meowed.
Kat couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, so you can talk. My mistake.”
Kat held her breath as she inched closer. When she made it within a few feet of her target, she held out her hand but didn’t touch him. He eyed her fingers warily.
“May I pet you?” Kat asked.
She stretched her arm out a little farther and brushed her fingers against his fur. He didn’t seem to mind, but neither did he do anything to encourage the contact.
Kat stroked him a few more times. She was just starting to feel optimistic about picking him up when a car pulled into one of the short-term parking slots a few yards away. The cat’s head jerked up, and he spun around and dashed off.
Kat huffed, disappointment washing over her. “So much for that.”
Andrew got out of the car. His face lit up when he spotted her. “What are you doing out here?”
Kat walked over to him. “I was trying to catch that white cat.”
“He’s out here again?”
“Not anymore. But he did eat some of the food I left for him.”
“Well, if you’re feeding him, he’s sure to come back.”
“What about you?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”
He grinned. “I came to see you.”
Kat’s heart skipped a beat. His dimples had that effect on her.
“You said you have Sadie Cramer’s cell phone,” he reminded her.
“Oh, right.” Kat mentally chastised herself for thinking he had stopped by for a social call when he was in the middle of a case. “Here.” She handed him the iPhone in her coat pocket.
“Thanks.”
“The password is 1-1-2-4.”
Andrew raised his eyebrows. “You know her password?”
“Maura knew it. Apparently Sadie wasn’t shy about keeping it a secret.”
Andrew frowned, and Kat could practically see what he was thinking. Someone as prudent as Andrew wouldn’t think highly of giving out personal information such as passwords.
“What about the stapler?” Kat asked. “Were you able to get any fingerprints off of it?”
“Nothing usable.”
Kat tried not to let Andrew’s words get her down. “Well, assuming it was used to kill Sadie, it kind of suggests her killer didn’t come here yesterday with the intent to harm.”
“What makes you say that?”
“If somebody drove over here intending to commit murder, he or she would have chosen a more conventional weapon, don’t you think? I know if I were planning to get rid of somebody, a stapler wouldn’t be the first item I would think to bring with me. But if I were already here and saw an opportunity, well, it might be one of the more convenient things to grab.”
Andrew rubbed his chin. “Your logic makes sense.”
Kat squinted at him. She didn’t miss how she was the only one throwing theories out there. “Do you know where that stapler came from?”
Andrew averted his eyes. “Possibly.”
She set her hands on her hips. “Care to share?”
Andrew dragged his gaze back to hers. “Kat, you know I can’t discuss an active investigation.”
Kat wasn’t surprised by his response, but it still stung. Sometimes she had a difficult time coming to terms with the fact that her boyfriend had the type of career that prohibited him from being as open about what he was working on as she wanted him to be.
But Andrew’s refusal to discuss the case details didn’t stop her from speculating.
Kat eyed the DataRightly building. If Andrew had already pinpointed where that stapler had come from, it had most likely been Sadie’s. That meant her murderer had to have been inside her office recently. Maybe one of her clients had been on the receiving end of what they thought was some bad career advice. They could have swiped her stapler on the way out, then hidden outside until she emerged for her smoke break.
Kat’s thoughts shifted to Rachel. She would have had just as much access to that stapler as a client. Perhaps she hadn’t really stopped by yesterday to pick up her paycheck after all. Maybe she’d come here to exact revenge on the woman who had fired her. But then why would Rachel have returned with that paycheck story after the deed was done?
Unless she’d realized later she had left something behind that could implicate her, Kat thought, her heart beating faster. She could have returned to retrieve the evidence only to be intercepted by Maura and Kat before she had a chance to sneak back into Sadie’s office.
Kat spun toward Andrew. “Have you searched Sadie’s office yet?”
Andrew reared back. “Excuse me?”
“Have you searched through Sadie’s office for clues her killer might have left behind?”
Andrew
peered at her down the bridge of his nose. “Kat, you do realize I know how to do my job, right?”
Kat folded her hands in front of her. “Of course.”
“Good.”
They stared at each other for a silent moment. Kat was about to apologize for questioning his competency when he coughed.
“I should get going,” he said. He bent closer and gave her a kiss. The kiss was neither quick nor chaste, which told Kat he had already forgiven her. “See you later.”
She watched him climb into his car, the heat of his kiss spreading all the way to her toes. Seeing Andrew—even if he was frustratingly mum when it came to discussing his cases—always put her in a better mood.
CHAPTER EIGHT
After Andrew left, Kat searched briefly for the white cat, but he was long gone.
Trying not to feel too dejected, she went inside the DataRightly building. While she waited for the elevator, she glanced down the corridor.
The hallway was empty. From here she could see the doors leading to the different businesses on this floor were all made of glass. How long would it take her to walk to the end and peek into Sadie Cramer’s office? She could just take a quick look around in search of missing staplers or something obvious that Rachel might have left behind, then come right back to the lobby. It would be a two-minute detour, tops.
Before she could fully contemplate what she was doing, her feet started moving of their own volition. The pull of Sadie’s office was almost irresistible.
She glanced at the businesses she passed as she hurried down the hall. She spotted a few people through the glass doors, but they didn’t pay her any heed. They were all busy with other things.
A doorplate sporting Sadie’s name over the words ‘career counselor’ was affixed next to the last office on the left. Cupping her hands around her face, Kat peered through the glass door. On the other side she could see a reception desk and a small waiting area. Behind the desk, Sadie’s inner office was partially visible through an open door. A second door on the other side of the desk was closed. Kat guessed that it led to a bathroom, kitchenette, or some combination of the two.
Movement drew Kat’s attention back to the reception desk. She nearly fell over when she realized someone was sitting there.
Kat didn’t move, her brain struggling to work out who she was looking at. Sadie was dead. Rachel no longer worked for her, and as far as Kat knew she hadn’t hired another receptionist.
So who was the fortyish brunette sitting behind the desk?
Deciding there was only one way to find out, Kat tested the doorknob. It turned without resistance.
The brunette looked up. “We’re closed,” she said, peering at Kat over the top of her reading glasses.
“That was the impression I was under,” Kat replied, stepping inside. “I’m Kat Harper. I’m the one who found Sadie outside yesterday.”
The brunette shot up off the chair, her hands flying to her mouth. “You’re the person who found Mama?”
“Mama?” Kat repeated.
The woman tossed her reading glasses on the desk and circled around to Kat’s side. From this distance, Kat could see the dark circles under the woman’s bloodshot eyes. She looked as though she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days.
“I’m Ginger Cramer,” the woman said. “Or, I should say Hamilton. That’s my married name.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize you worked for Sadie.”
“I don’t.” Ginger wrung her hands together. “I’m here to see Allen Bolt, actually.”
“Allen Bolt?” Kat echoed. “You mean the estate lawyer?”
“He works in the office over there,” Ginger said, jerking her chin toward the door. “When I arrived half an hour ago there wasn’t anyone in his waiting room and I heard voices coming from his private office. I figured he was with another client and decided to wait over here.”
Kat looked out the glass door, her eyes landing on Allen Bolt’s door across the corridor. Ginger’s story made sense. From Sadie’s reception desk she would have a clear view of anyone entering and exiting the office across the hall.
Ginger walked over to one of the two visitor chairs and sat down. “It feels strange being here without Mama. It’s too quiet.”
Kat lowered herself into the empty chair next to Ginger. “How did you get in?”
“Mama gave me a key a long time ago, when she first opened up shop here.” Ginger paused, then said, “What did she look like when you found her?”
Kat stiffened, the question taking her aback.
“Did she look like she was at peace?” Ginger asked, tears filling her eyes. “Did she look like she went painlessly?”
“I—I don’t know.” Kat didn’t care to mention the bloody stapler she’d found in the garbage.
Ginger slumped in her seat. “I hope Mama didn’t feel anything. I’m a nurse, so all I see all day are sick people. People who are dying. People in pain.” Tears fell from her eyes and dripped down her cheeks. “I couldn’t stand knowing Mama died in agony.”
Ginger buried her face in her hands and wept. Kat’s heart squeezed in sympathy. She wished now she had kept her mouth shut about finding Sadie. Better yet, she shouldn’t have entered Sadie’s office at all. She should have just looked through the door then left as originally planned.
Reminded of her motive for venturing this way, Kat surveyed the reception desk. She spotted a hole punch, a cup full of pens, and a paper clip dispenser, but no stapler. Neither did she see anything that suggested Rachel might have been here recently, although she wasn’t exactly sure what she was looking for in that regard.
Ginger pulled a tissue out of her pants pocket and dried her face. “Mama was the one who encouraged me to go into nursing. She wasn’t officially a career counselor back then, but she’s always had a knack for it. She said she always knew I was meant to be a caregiver.”
“Speaking of that, I talked to the son of one of your patients yesterday,” Kat said.
“You did?”
“Bob Bellerose. I take it his father doesn’t have much longer.”
Ginger folded and unfolded the tissue in her hands. “Yeah. Right now we’re just trying to keep him comfortable. At some point we’ll recommend hospice care.”
“Bob said Sadie called him yesterday to tell him something, something she didn’t want to talk about over the phone. Do you know what that was about?”
Ginger stopped playing with the tissue and stared at Kat. “I have no idea.”
“She didn’t mention whatever it was to you?”
“No.” Ginger’s forehead wrinkled. “But she wouldn’t have called Bob just to chat. They weren’t friends.”
“But they obviously knew each other,” Kat said.
“This is Cherry Hills,” Ginger replied, the implication being that most people in town knew one another.
That was true enough, Kat supposed. “When was the last time you talked to Sadie?” she asked.
“This past weekend, Thanksgiving. My husband and I went over to Mama’s house for dinner. But Mama didn’t say anything to me about the Belleroses. And she seemed too cheery to have anything important on her mind.”
Kat didn’t know how much to read into that. Whatever Sadie had wanted to talk to Bob about could have been something she’d only discovered yesterday, might not have concerned her family, or the topic simply could have been one she didn’t want to discuss over Thanksgiving dinner.
Ginger sagged in her seat. “I guess there’s no chance of finding out what Mama wanted to say now.”
“I guess not,” Kat said, although she couldn’t help but wonder if it related to her death.
Ginger tossed her tissue into a nearby trash can, then looked around the office. “I suppose I should make arrangements to close up her business. Mama operated a one-woman shop here.”
“Did she ever talk about Rachel?” Kat asked.
“Her receptionist?” Ginger nodded. “But Mama only hired her to be nice. She co
uldn’t stand the idea of her not having a job so close to the holidays. It was never supposed to be permanent.”
“Yet she fired her before Thanksgiving,” Kat mused.
“Yes, but not before she gave Rachel several leads on where she could find work. One of them was a friend of hers who manages a toy shop. She always needs extra help over the holidays.”
“Oh.” Kat hadn’t realized Sadie had gone to the effort of finding Rachel another job before letting her go.
Ginger crossed her legs. “Mama offered Rachel free career advice while she was working for her, you know. She said Rachel had a lot of potential, if only she would apply herself. Honestly, Mama thought Rachel was rather lazy. Smart but lazy, was what she told me. She thought Rachel just hadn’t found a job she was passionate about yet.”
“Were most of your mother’s clients happy with the advice she gave them?” Kat asked.
“Sure.” Ginger squinted at her. “Why do you ask?”
Kat fidgeted, not wanting to admit she was attempting to fish out potential murder suspects. “Oh, I was just thinking.”
A sound from the corridor saved Kat from having to explain further. A man walked out of Allen Bolt’s office and disappeared down the hall.
Ginger scrambled out of her seat. “Well, I should go talk to Mr. Bolt.” Her face crumpled. “Mama’s estate is one more thing I have to take care of now that she’s gone.”
Kat stood up. “I heard she’s leaving you everything.”
Ginger stilled. “Where did you hear that?”
“From your sister-in-law.”
Ginger scowled. “Chloe, the big blabbermouth. I don’t know what Barry sees in her.”
“Chloe sounded pretty upset that your mother didn’t leave them anything.”
“Yeah, well, she’s not even a blood relative.”
“According to her, Barry feels the same way.”
“Shows what she knows.” Ginger scoffed. “Barry’s the one who encouraged Mama to change her will.”
Kat rocked backward. “He is?”
Ginger walked over to the desk and dug through her purse until she found a compact. She opened it and held the mirror up to her face. “I took care of our father when he was dying,” she said, scrubbing at the tear streaks on her cheeks. “He was sick for a couple years.”
