Six Cats a Slayin'

by Miranda James

  Milton leaned against his desk and rubbed a hand across his eyes. He took a deep breath before he spoke. Then his words came out in a rush.

  “I’m terrified, Charlie, so sick I don’t know what to do.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  He looked me in the eye, and I could see the fear.

  “When we got home the other night after the party, I shut myself up in my den to try to cool off. Stayed in there a couple of hours before I felt like I could talk to Tammy without wringing her neck.” He paused for another deep breath. “I couldn’t find her anywhere in the house. I’m afraid she went back to the party and killed Gerry Albritton.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  I nearly dropped my bag, I was so shocked by Milton’s revelation. Could Tammy have come back into Gerry’s house without anyone seeing her? If she had, surely someone would have informed Gerry, if Gerry hadn’t seen Tammy for herself.

  I had seen Milton often enough worried about, or angry with, his wife, but this was far more serious. He stared at me with such fear and agony in his expression, I wasn’t sure I could do or say anything to help him.

  Taking him by the arm, I led him around the desk to his chair. “Sit,” I said gently, and he obeyed. He now seemed to be in a near-catatonic state as his gaze focused on the desk.

  I perched on a corner of the desk after I pushed a wire inbox out of the way.

  “Milton.” He looked up at me. “Did you ask Tammy where she went?”

  He nodded. “She refused to tell me.”

  “Do you have any idea when she left the house or how long she was gone?”

  “Don’t know when she left,” he said. “Didn’t come back for about half an hour after I came out of the den.”

  If Tammy had left immediately after Milton took refuge in his den, she could have been gone nearly two and a half hours.

  “Why do you think she went back to Gerry’s house?” I asked. “Maybe she went for a drive or to a bar until she thought you had cooled off. Maybe to a friend’s house.”

  Milton shook his head. “She doesn’t have that kind of friend. When she came back, she was wearing one of her wigs. Brown hair. And she’d changed her dress.”

  Another shock. That sounded really bad. If Tammy had taken the time to disguise herself, she might have been intent on getting back into the house, hoping no one would recognize her.

  “She refused to tell you where she’d been?” I said.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you ask her if she had gone back to the party?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “She still wouldn’t answer. She just went to the bedroom and locked herself in. We haven’t talked since. The last I saw of her, she yelled at me to get the hell out of the house and stay out.”

  “Does Jenny know any of this?” I asked.

  Milton shook his head. “She knows I’m upset with her mother, but that’s nothing unusual. I don’t think she suspects how bad it is.”

  Poor Jenny. I couldn’t imagine what it was like having to deal with her parents’ contentious relationship.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked.

  “Besides talk to a divorce lawyer?” Milton said bitterly. “I meant it, you know, what I said to her after she attacked Gerry. She can’t go on this way. She’s got to get help, or I’m going to leave her.”

  “Is she an addict?” I asked, knowing that it was a horribly intrusive question. But Milton needed a friend. Looked like I had been elected.

  Milton didn’t appear offended by my question. “Yes, she is. Painkillers, mostly, but sometimes she drinks along with it. She hurt her back pretty bad doing yard work a few years ago, and ever since, she’s been taking painkillers.” His eyes met mine. “She’s not getting the pills here, Charlie. Neither Jenny nor I would let her have any. She’s not stealing them, either.”

  “I’m sorry that you and Jenny are dealing with this,” I said. “Tammy has refused to get help?”

  “Yes, no matter what Jenny and I do or say,” Milton said. “She’s been taking the pills so long, I think she’s terrified of trying to live without them.” He snorted derisively. “As if she has any kind of life living like this. I sure as hell don’t.”

  Milton was a good man for sticking by Tammy this long, I supposed. I knew it was hard to get self-destructive people to change, and sometimes all you could do was walk away, if you wanted to preserve your own health and peace of mind. I thought Milton had reached that point, though he might not have fully realized it yet. I wished I knew what to say to him about this. Stating it outright would come across as brutal at the moment, and I hesitated to do it. I didn’t think he was wanting that kind of advice from me.

  I addressed another point instead. “Are you going to tell the authorities about this?”

  “It’s my duty, isn’t it?” he said. “Even if she is my wife.” He rubbed his eyes. “Maybe this is what it will take to get her to do something about those damn pills.”

  I didn’t envy him the decision he had to make. I knew that he should tell Kanesha. I could do it for him, but I felt uncomfortable even at the thought. This was Milton’s battle, and I suspected he would talk, or else force Tammy into admitting it to Kanesha herself.

  “It might,” I said. “There’s another point, though, that could affect all this. You weren’t there when Gerry collapsed, of course, but from the little bit I’ve been able to glean from Kanesha Berry—and my own observations—Gerry was poisoned by something that killed her almost instantly. If Tammy killed her, how did she obtain anything that lethal?”

  Milton laughed suddenly, a little wildly. He sobered quickly. “From the garden shed,” he said. “When she isn’t strung out on pills, Tammy is out in the garden. That’s why she has such a dark tan. People in the neighborhood consult her a lot, because she knows so much about chemicals. She has all kinds of hazardous stuff in that shed. Including sodium cyanide.”

  “Good grief, where does she get the cyanide?” I asked, remembering another situation where cyanide had come into play.

  “She distills it herself,” Milton said. “You probably don’t remember this, but she has a degree in chemistry. Worked for a big company in Memphis for almost five years after we first got married.”

  I didn’t think Milton needed me to tell him how bad things looked for Tammy. She went out of the house disguised, knew how to make a deadly, fast-acting poison, and had had a nasty confrontation with the dead woman. The circumstantial evidence was highly suggestive.

  “You understand now why I’m so terrified,” Milton said.

  “Yes,” I said, still stunned by the latest revelation. Could there be another explanation for why Tammy had disguised herself when she left the house? I thought of a sordid one, but there could be other, less sordid ones.

  “Was this the first time, to your knowledge, that Tammy went out disguised like that?” I asked.

  “No,” Milton replied. “I’ve caught her doing it three or four times in the past few years. I think it has something to do with her sources for the pills.”

  That was the sordid explanation that had occurred to me. “Then isn’t it possible that’s what she did last night? Went out because she needed more pills?”

  “I’ve thought about that myself,” Milton said, “but I know for a fact that she got a fresh supply on Saturday.” He sighed. “She thinks I don’t know where she hides them, but I do. I’ve been tempted so many times to dispose of them, but I know that wouldn’t stop it.”

  In the length of the time she had been gone from home on Tuesday night, she could have driven to Holly Springs or another good-sized town not far away. If Tammy hadn’t needed pills, though, then she wouldn’t need to don her disguise in order to meet a dealer or go to another pharmacy.

  Back to the scenario with Tammy as the murderer.

  “Doesn’t look good, does it?�
�� Milton said in a despairing tone.

  “No, it doesn’t,” I replied. “If you told me all this because you wanted my advice—”

  Milton interrupted me. “I do.”

  “Then my advice to you is to talk to Kanesha Berry. She’s intelligent, and she’s fair. If she isn’t absolutely sure that Tammy is responsible for Gerry’s murder, then she won’t arrest her. But she needs to know about this.”

  “I know,” Milton said. “Besides, somebody there might have recognized her, and for all I know, they’ve already informed Deputy Berry.”

  “Yes.” I got up from the desk and placed a hand on Milton’s shoulder. I squeezed it lightly. “This is really rough, I know, and I hate that you’re having to go through all this. You’re a good man, Milton, and you deserve better.”

  The look of gratitude Milton gave me touched me deeply. He looked more peaceful now. He had undoubtedly needed to unburden himself, and though I was not happy to know all the things about Tammy that I knew now, I was happy that I could help my friend by listening.

  “Thank you, Charlie,” Milton said, his voice husky from emotion. “You’re a good man, too.”

  “I’m going home now,” I said. “If you need to talk again, let me know.”

  “Thanks, I will,” Milton said.

  I looked back at him before I stepped through the door. He sat staring at the telephone on his desk. I turned and walked away, saying a prayer for him as I went.

  When I left the store, I stopped beside my car while my eyes adjusted to the bright afternoon sun. Though the air chilled me, the sun was warm on my face. I took time to glance around the square, surveying the holiday decorations. The town council and the square merchants worked together every year to put up a beautiful Christmas display, and this year the square was as beautiful as ever.

  Colorful metallic garlands wrapped around light poles, and oversized ornaments dangled from trees and light poles alike. Storefronts were also strung with garlands and festooned with holly. At night, multicolored lights would suffuse the square with a magical glow. In the middle of the square itself stood a stable, surrounded by the Three Wise Men, their camels, and assorted stable animals. I knew that inside the stable there stood a crèche in which the holy infant rested, while on either side of him his earthly parents knelt in prayer.

  When I was a small child growing up in Athena, the displays weren’t quite so lavish, but I remembered the excitement I felt when my parents would bring me to the square on Christmas Eve. We would walk around the square and check out the displays in each store window. After we made one circuit, my father would put me on his shoulders so that I could see over the crowd of other families who had also come to enjoy the sights.

  Thanks to recent events, my Christmas spirit had retreated. I had too many worries on my mind to let the joy of the season work its usual magic. Now, however, with the vista spread before me, I started to catch the spirit again. I vowed that my family would have a joyous holiday, Alex included.

  A loud voice and a quick toot on a horn roused me from my daydreaming. I glanced toward the street, where I saw a man in his car trying to attract my attention.

  “Are you coming or going?” he asked in an easygoing tone. “If you’re going, I could really use that parking space.”

  “Sorry, yes, I’m going.” I smiled before I got in the car, thankful that he hadn’t been rude. As it was, I felt guilty enough for tying up the parking space longer than was strictly necessary. I backed out, and I saw in my rearview mirror that he moved right in. I focused on the street ahead of me.

  Traffic was heavy around the square, and cars moved slowly through the four-way stops at each corner. While I waited for the cars ahead of me to move, I continued to glance around the square. Up ahead to my left I spotted the building that housed Jared Carter’s dental practice and a couple of lawyer’s offices. The young woman emerging from the building looked familiar, and as the cars began to move, I drew closer to where she stood by a parked car, talking on her phone.

  She glanced my way, and I recognized her and waved. Startled, she waved back, as if by reflex, then turned away. I wondered if Jincy Bruce, Gerry’s assistant, had been consulting one of the lawyers or if she had been to see the dentist. Given the fact that Jared had possibly known the identity of Ronni Halliburton, I suspected she might have been to see Jared. She had an expression similar to one I often sported after a session with my dentist—extreme discomfort.

  Was it only a simple visit to the dentist, though? Maybe Jincy knew more about this whole situation than I had thought.

  That idea led me to another one. Was Jared somehow involved in Gerry Albritton’s real estate schemes?

  TWENTY-FOUR

  That constituted a rather big leap in logic, I told myself—going from a chance, overheard remark at the party to a connection between a prominent dentist and a secretive real estate scheme.

  If Melba had heard correctly, however, then Jared Carter obviously knew something about Ronni. Was it really a person’s name? Or perhaps it was simply a code word. There might not be a Ronni Halliburton at all, at least in this case.

  Kanesha had the resources to trace the true identity of Gerry Albritton. I had no access to databases used by law enforcement agencies, and presumably one of Kanesha’s deputies had checked the yearbooks by now. If Kanesha couldn’t turn up anything through her sources, though, the mystery might never be solved. I needed to let go of my curiosity over this investigation and stay out of Kanesha’s way. I couldn’t help but wonder, though, whether Milton had picked up the phone and called her. Not my business, I reminded myself sharply, and concentrated on driving.

  Finally, I got clear of the slow-moving traffic around the square and made my way home. The kittens would be clamoring for their dinner, no doubt convinced they would never eat again. I grinned as I pictured them. I had to admit that I was quickly growing attached to them, one in particular. But I reminded myself that I did not need six cats in the house. Two, maybe, but not six. Diesel had tolerated them all so far, even seemed fond of them, but he might not take to the idea of having them become part of the family.

  Azalea had departed by the time I got home. I found a note on the fridge. She had already fed the kittens. I would have to thank her especially for helping with them. I suspected that she was fonder of them than she would be willing to admit. There was a tender heart protected by the gruff personality she presented to the world.

  Diesel appeared quickly, and I listened to him meow and warble as he told me all about the kittens. If only I could understand him, I was sure I would be highly amused by what he had to say. I wondered if he was tiring of his self-imposed babysitting duties. Perhaps he was telling me that he wished I would hurry up and find out where the kittens belonged, so he could have the house to himself again.

  After some stroking and a few comments from me, he ceased his vocalizing and trotted off to the utility room. I finished reading Azalea’s note. She had left a shepherd’s pie in the oven, and there was a fresh salad in the fridge. She had also made a lemon icebox pie, one of my favorites.

  Was it any wonder I had high blood pressure and a weight problem? I really should sit down with Azalea and have a talk with her about making some changes in the food she prepared for me.

  Or I could stop being a slug and join the gym. Stewart periodically raised the subject, and I always put him off. I couldn’t see myself working out in the gym, but I also hadn’t had much success exercising on my own at home. Maybe I should let Stewart work with me. I’d think about it, but I wasn’t going to do anything until after the holidays.

  I wasn’t quite ready for my dinner. I wandered into the living room to check on the kittens. I took them out of the cage by turns and spent half an hour playing with them and talking to them. While I did that, I also thought about the note I wanted to write and leave on the door for the mysterious child.

&n
bsp; What if I took a direct approach and asked the child to talk to me? Would she be willing to do that? I would be perfectly happy to let her visit the kittens. If she happened to confide in me the identity of the man she’d referred to in her original note, I would promise to help her talk to him about the kittens.

  Worth a shot, I decided. I put Ramses back in the cage with his siblings. Not for the first time I wondered how many different fathers had sired this litter. Perhaps two? I knew it wasn’t unusual for litters to have multiple fathers. Since three of them were orange tabbies and the other two were dark gray, I thought two fathers was a reasonable guess. I had no idea what their mother looked like, so perhaps some of the kittens had her coloring while the others had the father’s. Feline genetics was not one of my areas of expertise.

  Back at the kitchen table, pen in hand, I composed the note that I would put on the door. I kept it simple. I’m sure you would like to see the kittens and play with them. Can we talk? I want to help however I can. Thank you for the money, too.

  I read it through a couple of times. Simple, but to the point, I hoped. I made some calculations based on the height of the living room windows on the outside, then watched the video again to get some idea of how tall the child was. From these two factors I decided on how high to place the note.

  With note, thumbtack, and yardstick in hand, I went to the front door and opened it. Diesel came with me and watched, curious as to what I was doing. I stood on the stoop and pulled the door nearly shut. I measured with the yardstick, and as I had anticipated, the point where I calculated the note should be was in the center of the large wreath, itself hung several inches above the center of the door.

  I tacked the note in place and stood back to look at it. Unless I’d known where to search, I don’t think I would have spotted the small camera hidden in the greenery of the wreath. I went back inside the house, and half a minute or so later my phone pinged to announce the availability of a new video.