A Catered Birthday Party

by Crawford, Isis

  “Good,” Samantha said as she revved the car back up. “You know, you really are pretty cool.”

  “Despite being practically an antique?”

  “Yeah. Despite that,” Samantha said as they whipped around Longworth and headed toward Route 63. A few minutes later they were on it.

  “I still don’t see why you can’t keep Trudy,” Samantha said to Sean as they bounced down the road toward Ramona’s house.

  “Because I would be receiving stolen property,” Sean explained for the hundredth time. Somehow he managed to keep off the topic of Samantha’s driving.

  “Trudy isn’t property,” Samantha protested. “She’s a living, breathing thing. And I didn’t steal her; I acquired her.”

  “Oh. Excuse me. Acquired. I like that. Listen, I’m not arguing with you. I’m just telling you that in the eyes of the New York State Agricultural Code, a dog is considered property.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “It may be terrible, but there it is. The law is the law.”

  “It needs to be changed.”

  “Then call up your congressman and complain. Get a petition going.”

  “I know what I could do,” Samantha said. “I could call up Animal Control and complain that Trudy is being treated meanly. Then they’d take her away and I could adopt her.”

  “You could,” Sean agreed, who doubted that Animal Control would ever set foot in Richard Colbert’s house no matter what the cause. “But somehow I don’t think that being kept in the kitchen and being fed dog food would be considered cruelty to animals. That’s what a lot of people do. And I’m sure your father wouldn’t be too pleased if you brought Trudy home.”

  “First of all, Trudy is locked in a crate,” Samantha protested. “And if that isn’t cruel, I don’t know what is. How would you like to be in a cage all day?”

  “I’m not a dog,” Sean replied. “So I wouldn’t know. And remember, you told me you found her wandering outside, which means she wasn’t in her crate.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Samantha replied. “I forgot.”

  “Don’t forget,” Sean said.

  “It’s true. She was lost,” Samantha continued. “The poor thing didn’t even have her coat on. And no one noticed. I was there two days after Annabel died and Trudy was whimpering. It was heartbreaking. When I tried to take her for a walk, Richard yelled at me.”

  “Why did he do that?”

  “He said he didn’t want Trudy tracking dirt through the house. But my therapist said that Richard was treating Trudy badly because she was Annabel’s dog. Or something like that.”

  Sean thought that might be true.

  Samantha continued, “My therapist calls it displaced anger. But Trudy is lonely. She needs to be with people. And anyway, she used to be treated like a princess when Annabel was alive. I mean, even if Annabel didn’t love her she got good food and walks and doggie treats.”

  “You’re telling me she was a trophy dog?”

  Samantha stared at him.

  “Like a trophy wife,” Sean explained.

  “Oh. I get it,” Samantha said. “Yeah. That’s what she was and now she’s like Cinderella BPC.”

  “BPC?” Sean repeated.

  “Before Prince Charming, of course.”

  “Of course,” Sean agreed. Who didn’t know that? Of course, he’d just recently learned what OMG and LOL stood for. He could still hear Bernie saying, “Dad, I can’t believe you don’t know what that means.” Well, believe it.

  Sean gazed out the window at the snow piled up on either side of the road. He hadn’t driven Route 63 since he’d chased the Lipton boys down for stealing the high school principal’s Lincoln Continental and spray painting it purple. The road wasn’t in any better shape now than it was back then. But why should it be? There were no big developments on it; hence, no tax dollars were spent on maintaining it.

  The road had no traffic signs and very few vehicles, which meant that Samantha could go as fast as she wanted on it. And she was. Never mind the ruts in the road. Actually, he was amazed Samantha could get as much speed out of the Mini Cooper as she was getting.

  “She handles pretty well,” Sean heard himself observing.

  “She does, doesn’t she?” Samantha responded. “I was pretty surprised. But it makes sense considering who manufactures them.”

  “You didn’t buy this car?”

  “With what? No. My dad gave it to me, so he wouldn’t have to deal with me. He figures that way I can go off on my own and I don’t have to bother him.”

  “That’s too bad,” Sean said, thinking of all the time he’d spent driving his daughters. Some of their best conversations had occurred when he’d picked them up from school. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

  Samantha shrugged. “I don’t care. I’d rather have the car anyway.”

  Then she stopped talking. Sean could see she was blinking the tears out of her eyes. They finished out the ride in silence. Five minutes later, they pulled up in front of Ramona’s house. Sean looked at his watch. It would have taken any normal person half an hour to drive there. It had taken Samantha ten minutes. Maybe even eight. On the plus side, at least his legs hadn’t had time to numb up.

  Samantha parked. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

  “Do you mind if I smoke one of these before we get out?” she asked.

  “Only if you give me one,” Sean replied.

  This was the first good thing that had happened today, Sean thought as Samantha held out the pack for him.

  “Just don’t tell my daughters,” Sean cautioned Samantha.

  “They don’t know?”

  Sean shook his head. “No. They don’t know that I started again.”

  “That’s okay,” Samantha said as she blew a smoke ring and watched it drift across the front window. “Neither does my dad.”

  “You shouldn’t be smoking,” Sean admonished.

  “Neither should you,” Samantha shot back.

  “Yeah, but you’re young. I’m old, so it doesn’t matter.”

  “I’m not that young,” Samantha said. “In two months, I’ll be twenty-one.”

  “That’s very old,” Sean told her with a straight face. “I didn’t realize you were an antique.”

  Samantha giggled. “I suppose it’s not that old from where you sit.”

  “Not exactly,” Sean said wryly.

  Samantha rolled down her window, cupped her hand, tapped the ash from her cigarette into it, and dumped it out the window. “Not to change the subject or anything, but what if Ramona’s not here?”

  “Then we’ll come back another time,” Sean said, doing the same thing with his cigarette that Samantha had done.

  “I don’t see her car.”

  “It’s probably in the garage.”

  “We should have called first.”

  Sean shook his head. “No, we shouldn’t have. Then we’d give up the element of surprise.”

  Samantha just grunted and took another drag.

  Sean took a moment to study the structure in front of him. It was one of those ramshackle buildings that seem to have grown themselves. The place was tucked away on the back end of the Colbert estate. It was separated from the main building by the swimming pool, the tennis courts, and the flower beds on one side, and bounded on the other side by Route 63 and Freemont Woods. You had to know it was there to find it.

  Sean decided that the structure must have been built—or maybe cobbled together would be a better description—with the intention of housing the hired help. If the house that Richard Colbert lived in was built for show, this place was built for function. The bungalow-style cottage had once been painted red, but although patches of the original color remained close to the ground, the wind and the weather had combined to scour the color off the rest of the walls. An empty dog run and a small garage stood a short distance away.

  Samantha pointed. “That’s probably where Ramona keeps Trudy whe
n she stays here.”

  Sean didn’t doubt it. “Some people keep their dogs in places like that,” Sean said. His dad had always kept his hunting dogs in an outside run. Otherwise they’ll get spoiled, his dad used to say.

  “Maybe,” Samantha answered. “But Trudy isn’t that kind of dog. Trudy has outfits. And shoes. My, there are a lot of cats here,” Samantha noted, changing the subject.

  “Yes, there are,” Sean agreed.

  He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t seen them at first, but maybe they’d been scared off by the sound of Samantha’s Mini Cooper when it roared to a stop. He knew he would be. And then after a few minutes of quiet, they’d crept back out. He counted ten at least. Maybe twelve. Most of which were hanging out near the garage. Then he spotted another couple near the blue spruce over to the left.

  “I bet she feeds them all,” Sean said as he opened the car door.

  Otherwise they wouldn’t be hanging around. Cats were opportunistic in that way. No food and they found somewhere else to go. He remembered when his grandma had started feeding the barn cats. In the end, much to his dad’s disgust, they’d had twenty of them lounging about. It’s a waste of food, he remembered his dad saying. Gram hadn’t cared. But at least they hadn’t had any mice, Sean thought. Not too many birds either, come to think of it. Then his mind turned to the problem of removing himself from the Mini Cooper. In situations like these, planning was key.

  He’d just managed to extract himself after a five-minute struggle that Samantha had the good grace to look away from when Ramona Birdwell came barreling around the corner. She was wearing a black wool watch cap, a bright yellow parka, matching snow pants, Gortex boots, and thick brown leather work gloves. Sean couldn’t help thinking that she reminded him of a walking fireplug.

  “Who are you and what do you want?” she barked as she drew closer to where Sean and Samantha were standing.

  Sean introduced himself and Samantha.

  Ramona gestured toward Sean with her chin. “So are you related to the Simmons sisters, the ones who catered Annabel’s party?” Ramona asked.

  “I’m their father,” Sean explained.

  The expression on Ramona’s face made it plain that this did not improve his standing in her eyes. “That turned into quite a fiasco, didn’t it?” she said. Her tone exhibited a certain amount of smug satisfaction that Sean found particularly distasteful. It was almost as if she was glad that the whole affair had turned out the way it did, that she thought Annabel had it coming.

  “Well, under the circumstances,” Sean replied, “I don’t see how it could have been anything else but a fiasco.”

  Ramona snorted. “I told Annabel the whole idea was ridiculous. Trudy is a dog, not some fancied-up child. But Annabel wouldn’t listen. Never would. Had to have the party even though I was trying to get Trudy’s weight down by half a pound. She always had to have things her way. Money just makes some people stupid.”

  “And others envious,” Sean observed.

  “Not me, if that’s what you’re implying,” Ramona answered as she pointed to Samantha. “And you,” Ramona snapped. “What’s your excuse for being here?”

  Samantha looked around nervously.

  “She’s the one who found Trudy,” Sean said before Samantha could answer.

  A furrow appeared just above the bridge of Ramona’s nose. “What do you mean, found Trudy?”

  “Near your place. She found Trudy near your place. So we came to see if you were missing a dog.”

  “My place?” Ramona repeated.

  “Yes. She was outside by the road,” Sean lied.

  “The road?” Ramona’s voice quivered with outrage. “That’s absurd. You’re making it up.”

  “At least we think it’s Trudy,” Sean continued. “Maybe it’s not. I have to confess that to me one pug looks just like another.”

  “Not to me,” Ramona snapped.

  “Obviously,” Sean observed.

  “Was she hurt?” Ramona asked.

  “Not at all,” Sean replied.

  “I’d like to see her,” Ramona said.

  “The pug?”

  “Who else would I be talking about?” Ramona growled.

  Sean shrugged. “Sorry. The pug’s fine. She got into some stuff, so one of my daughters took her to get cleaned up. Of course, we’ll need proper documentation before returning her to Richard. She could be someone else’s dog.” Then before Ramona could say anything else, Sean gestured toward the cats. “Are these all yours?”

  Ramona’s voice softened. Her body relaxed. “Those are my outdoor kitties. I have more inside.”

  Sean rubbed his hands together. “Speaking of inside, do you think I can make use of the facilities?”

  Sean could tell from the frown on Ramona’s face that she was anxious to let him in her house. “Please,” he said. “Just for a moment.”

  “Do you like cats?” Ramona asked.

  “As well as the next man. Why?”

  “You’ll see,” Ramona said. And then she added, “But I want you to just do your business and go. I don’t want you poking around in there.”

  Sean drew himself up. “I hadn’t intended to.”

  “Good,” Ramona replied. “Because my babies aren’t used to people and I don’t want them to get spooked.”

  “Neither do I,” Sean said.

  And he meant it. One or two cats were fine. But he suspected he’d find multiple cats in Ramona’s house, and that was a different story. So, it was with some trepidation that Sean followed Ramona inside. The first thing Sean and Samantha noticed when they stepped inside was the cats. They were everywhere. Lounging on the window seat, sitting on chairs, draped over the back of the sofa, lying on the rugs. Sean lost count after fifteen. And he was willing to bet there were more in the other rooms of the house. Many more. The second thing Samantha and Sean noticed was the lack of smell. He realized he’d been unconsciously girding himself for the reek of kitty litter, but it wasn’t there.

  “Training dogs is my business, but cats are my weakness,” Ramona said.

  “I can see that,” Sean said as he carefully picked his way to the bathroom.

  When he came back, despite what Ramona had just said to him about doing what he had to do and leaving, she and Samantha had seated themselves on the sofa in the living room. Samantha was stroking a three-legged ginger-colored tabby who was sprawled across her lap, while Ramona was brushing the back of a large black and white tomcat. Two gray cats and a tortoise shell looked on.

  “I told Richard not to do that,” Sean heard Ramona saying to Samantha. “But he didn’t listen. He never does.”

  “You must be relieved to be reinstated,” Sean said, interrupting the two women’s conversation. He was standing against the wall because all the other possible seats were being taken up by felines. And anyway, if he sat down he’d just have to get up again, and transitions like that were hard for him.

  Ramona shot him a sharp look. “What do you mean, reinstated?”

  “Well, I’d heard that Annabel was hiring someone else to mount Trudy’s campaign for Westminster,” Sean said, repeating what Clyde had told him earlier that afternoon.

  “That’s ridiculous,” Ramona spluttered. “She would never think of doing such a thing. I’ve been with Trudy since the beginning.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. You know what gossip is like in a small town like Longely.”

  “Yes, I do,” Ramona said. “People here are like a bunch of piranhas. They have way too much time on their hands if you ask me.”

  Sean was just about to say that piranhas had fins, not hands, but he managed to restrain his inner Bernie. Instead he said, “I also heard that you were going to have to move out of here because the house comes with your job.”

  Ramona’s eyes narrowed. “What a lot of drivel. Where did you hear that from?”

  Sean shrugged. “You know how people talk.”

  “I bet it was Joyce or Melissa, wasn’t it? They would s
ay something like that. They’ve always hated me. Especially Joyce. She couldn’t bear to think that I was important to Annabel. She has a nasty mean streak in her. My cats can’t stand her. Or Melissa, for that matter. And they are very good judges of character.”

  “No. It wasn’t them,” Sean assured her.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Then it was Joanna.”

  “It wasn’t her either. Really,” Sean said. He could tell Ramona didn’t believe him. “But I’m glad to hear that’s not the case. It certainly would be hard to find a place given the cats. They must cost a lot of money to take care of,” he observed.

  Ramona didn’t say anything, but Sean could see from the way she’d stiffened up that he’d hit a home run with his comments. Score one for Clyde.

  The question, though, was: Was that enough of a motivation for murder?

  If Ramona was about to lose everything—her job, a place to live, her beloved animals—then Sean thought the answer to that question could be yes.

  As he and Samantha left the house, Sean was glad he’d come out here. He’d learned a lot. It had definitely been worth the ride, and given the circumstance that was saying quite a lot. On the way back to the car, he walked over to the garage, scattering cats as he went, and peered in the window.

  Through the dirt and the cobwebs, Sean saw bags and bags of cat litter, cat food, flea spray, as well as three brown quart bottles that he was positive were going to turn out to be Malathion. He was about to try the garage door when Ramona came out and started screaming at them. At that point, he figured it was time to go. He and Samantha beat a hasty retreat, or as hasty as he could manage, got into the Mini Cooper, and zoomed off to pick up Trudy.

  Chapter 21

  Samantha looked at Ines. Ines looked at Sean. Sean looked at Trudy. Trudy didn’t look at anyone. She was happily exploring the carpeting in the back room of the Longley Historical Society.

  “You want me to do what?” Ines asked Sean.

  Sean explained again. “It’ll just be for a few days,” he assured her. “Till we get everything straightened out.”