Let Sleeping Cats Lie: The 9 Lives Cozy Mystery Series, Book Four

by Louise Clark

“Do you have plans for the summer?” Rebecca asked. They had reached the corridor by now and were halfway to the girls’ classroom.

  Christy shook her head. “No. How about you?”

  “We have a trailer we keep down in Washington State, by a beach. We spend most of the summer there.” They reached the classroom. Rebecca smiled before they went in. “Noelle is welcome to come down for a visit.”

  “Thanks,” Christy said. “I’ll talk to her about it.”

  In the classroom, the girls were ready to go. Mary Petrofsky was regaling Noelle with stories about summers at the trailer, and their teacher, Mrs. Morton, was smiling, looking more approachable than Christy had ever seen her. Rebecca and Christy organized the girls and they all walked home together, chatting about summer plans and the school year just past. At Christy’s house, they parted company. Mary and her mother were off to shop for their summer at the beach, while Christy, Ellen, Noelle, and Stormy had been invited to an end-of-the-school-year barbeque at the Armstrongs’ house.

  The barbeque was an Armstrong tradition, according to Quinn. It was a transition from school to vacation, when the family made their summer plans, with everyone offering up suggestions, and final decisions made after all ideas had been thoroughly discussed.

  In reality, Quinn had said the previous day, as they waited to give their statements after Russell Beck’s arrest, his parents had made the plans long before and just presented them in an egalitarian way to make Quinn feel he was a valued and important part of the process. Christy thought that would be rather off putting, but Quinn had slid her a long look, smiled in a way that made her heart turn over, and said, “Life with Dad. You get used to it.”

  Roy had asked them to arrive around noon, which gave Christy time to bake a batch of brownies, with Noelle’s help, of course, and Ellen to put together the fancy quinoa salad she’d proudly made herself from a recipe she’d worked on in her cooking class. They were all looking forward to the party as they made their way out their back door, then along the path to the Armstrong’s backyard.

  They found Roy standing at his barbeque, with Trevor peering over his shoulder. Sledge was opening a bag of chips at the table. A bottle of beer stood beside a large bowl, which apparently was the destination of the chips.

  “Roy! Mr. Three. Sledge!” Noelle shouted, announcing their arrival. She did a little dance, careful not to upend the plate of brownies she was carrying. “School’s out!”

  All the adults laughed and Ellen said, mildly for her, “There is no need to shout, Noelle.”

  Sure there is! Didn’t you hear her, Aunt Ellen? School’s out! She’s free for the summer.

  “Yeah,” said Noelle nodding.

  Ellen made a disapproving sound in her throat. She placed her bowl of salad on the table beside the chips. The cat suddenly froze, then leapt toward the trees that marked the point where the yard ended and the greenbelt began.

  “What’s he up to?” Sledge asked.

  “He’s probably caught sight of the squirrel,” Christy said. Her contribution was a bowl of coleslaw, which she put on the table beside Ellen’s salad. She watched as Noelle carefully put her brownies down and pretended not to notice when she snuck a square from the pile.

  “Hey,” Sledge said, smiling at Noelle. “Aren’t you supposed to wait until after you’ve had your main course before you have dessert?”

  Eyes full of mischief, Noelle said, “Oops!” The word came out a little blurry as her mouth was still full of brownie. Sledge laughed.

  “Where’s Quinn?” Christy asked, trying to sound casual.

  “Upstairs with Tamara, putting together the hot dogs and hamburgers,” Trevor said. His attention was on the barbecue, which used charcoal briquettes, not propane, for fuel. Roy was carefully tending the blaze so that the briquettes would be hot coals when the meat arrived. Trevor was supervising.

  Of course Tamara was upstairs with Quinn. What had she expected? “Will Olivia be coming?” Christy asked. She tried to sound as if she was making conversation, and her interest was only casual, when in fact the answer was terribly important to her.

  “We didn’t invite her,” Roy said.

  Relief rushed through Christy. Olivia was Tamara’s birth mother. If she was part of the festivities, that would mean Quinn and Tamara were a confirmed couple. That Olivia wasn’t there gave her hope that a future for Quinn and Tamara wasn’t inevitable.

  Roy crouched down to blow on the coals. “I was prepared to, but Tamara asked that we not.”

  “Oh.” That blew her assumption that Olivia’s absence meant Quinn and Tamara weren’t a couple.

  “I’ll go up and help the young people bring down the food,” Ellen said. “Come with me, Trevor.”

  Trevor looked up from the barbeque and blinked. “Okay.” They disappeared into the house.

  “Well,” said Sledge.

  Aunt Ellen and Trevor? Really?

  Roy stood up. “Coals are ready.” He dusted off his hands and winked at Noelle as he grabbed a brownie.

  Quinn appeared in the doorway carrying a platter of hotdogs and hamburgers. He was followed by Tamara, who held a bowl of pasta salad in one hand and a green salad in the other. Christy quickly went to help Tamara, taking one of the bowls, while Quinn delivered the meat to his father and held the platter as Roy carefully placed each piece on the grill. Ellen brought a tub containing plates, cutlery and glasses, while Trevor hauled a cooler filled with beverages.

  Since the food took up most of the table they all settled on deck chairs and ate from plates held on their laps. Conversation eventually rolled around to the unmasking of Russell Beck the day before.

  “What I don’t understand is why Patterson was there,” Christy said. “She told me she couldn’t be involved.” She passed around the plate of brownies. At the rate they were disappearing, she should have made a double batch.

  “I convinced her,” Quinn said. Christy frowned at him and he laughed. “Don’t forget, I know your habit of diving into the thick of things. I figured you were right that Beck was the killer. I also thought there was a good chance something would go wrong.”

  “Thanks,” Christy said. “I think. How did you convince Patterson?”

  Quinn sobered. “I worked on her conscience. She suspected you planned to confront Phoebe. She didn’t like the idea. In fact, she intended to step in and stop you, once she had the when and where. I let her know Sledge was with you and I convinced her to hold off and see if our plan worked.”

  Christy took the last brownie and sat down. “Well, I’m glad you were there. How did it, um, sound from the other side of the door?”

  Since Quinn and Patterson couldn’t hear Frank’s mind speak, this was a valid question. Quinn knew about Frank, of course, and by now he’d pretty much accepted that many and varied people were able to communicate with him, but Tamara hadn’t a clue, so they were all being cautious about what they said and how they responded when Frank talked.

  “Like Russell was having a breakdown. His voice was raised. He sounded defensive, angry, overwrought.” Quinn stopped, glanced at Tamara, then said slowly, as if he was picking his words, “He seemed to be responding to questions, as if some unseen being was prodding him into a confession.”

  Way cool. I did good work. The voice was lazy, half asleep. The cat was now sunning himself curled up in Noelle’s lap in the middle of the patch of grass between the patio and the trees.

  Christy laughed and was glad that she had a mouthful of brownie so she couldn’t blurt out something inappropriate. Instead, she swallowed and raised her brows. “Like Fred’s ghost?”

  “Someone’s ghost, anyway,” Quinn said. Sledge laughed and Tamara looked at him thoughtfully.

  Roy stirred. “Now that this case is over and school’s out, we all must be thinking about the summer.”

  “Here it comes,” Quinn said.

  Roy frowned at him. “What comes?”

  “Summer plans.”

  Roy brightened. �
��Good point. What’s everyone got arranged?”

  Sledge shifted restlessly in his seat. “Hammer and I have to finalize new management for SledgeHammer.” He shook his head. “We’ve been letting it drift, both of us. Vince’s firm is handling our day-to-day for now, but we need to make a decision. The trouble is, neither of us wants to do it.” Their manager’s death coming at the end of their last tour had taken a deep emotional toll and Sledge didn’t look happy about the task. Not surprising as it sounded more like work than vacation.

  Roy nodded, looking pleased. Raising his brows, he looked around. His gaze fell on Christy. “How about you and Noelle?”

  “We don’t have any big plans. Rebecca Petrofsky invited Noelle down to their place in Washington State for a visit. I might drop her there and continue on to Seattle for a couple of nights.”

  “Mary says the beach there is beautiful,” Noelle said from the grass. “She wants me to come for the whole summer.”

  The whole summer? Seattle? What about me?

  At her father’s comment, Noelle frowned. Christy said hastily, “Not the whole summer, kiddo. Maybe a couple of weekends. Or a week-long visit.”

  Noelle looked at the adults, focused for a minute on Tamara, then studiously patted the cat in her lap. “Stormy would be lonely.”

  Christy smiled at her daughter, relieved she’d minded her words. “Yes, he would.”

  Roy cleared his throat. “Anyone else have plans? Three? Ellen?”

  “Salt Spring is nice this time of year. My garden will need tending.” Trevor glanced around the table. “The deer tend to go after the herbaceous borders. You need to be vigilant.”

  “Vigilant? How?” Tamara asked. Coming from a life in urban Toronto she didn’t have a lot of experience with wildlife.

  “Applying, um, a natural repellant to the perimeter.” He reddened.

  His son laughed and took pity on him. “Fluids that smell like a predator has been in the area and marked his territory.”

  Like dog pee?

  “Yuck,” Noelle said.

  “Um, yes,” Trevor said. He focused on Ellen and shifted the conversation away from indelicate subjects. “My house has a spare bedroom. Have you ever been to Salt Spring, Ellen?”

  “Of course,” she said. “I have several friends who have taken up residence on the island.” She looked thoughtfully at Trevor. “I suppose a summer visit would be nice. Catching up with people.”

  “We could give a party.”

  “We?”

  Trevor backtracked hastily. “I mean, I. I could give a party.”

  “Hmm. Perhaps.”

  Roy observed this with a frown. Christy saw Quinn watching him with amusement and thought of his comment about his father’s tendency to arrange summer vacation.

  “What about you, Tamara?” Sledge said. “Do you have anything planned?”

  Tamara glanced at Quinn. “No. I suppose I’ll go back to Toronto now that I’m no longer a suspect in the Jarvis murder.” She looked around the table. “I want to thank you, all of you, for believing in me.” She hesitated, then said, “I had a lot of time to think while I was in detention. About who I am and what I want to do in my future. I realized I can still be myself. That I can take risks and give back.” A smile quirked up one corner of her mouth. “I just can’t take the same kind of risks.” She drew a deep breath. “I’ll never go back to CMSA and work in danger zones, but I can fundraise, and I can bring awareness of what is happening to the world.”

  She looked over at Quinn and smiled. The implication was clear. Her experience working to save the innocent in tragic conflicts, together with Quinn’s media profile, would make them an unbeatable team for good.

  “You’re heading back to Toronto, then?” Sledge said, surprising Christy. She expected Quinn to be the one to comment.

  Tamara hesitated. “I’m not sure. I came here to find my birth parents—and I did—but now? With all that has happened? I’m not sure that I should ever have done that. My parents, my real parents, are in Toronto. That’s where I’m from. That’s where my family is.” She shrugged, looking guilty. “Still, something tells me I should stay here in Vancouver At least for a little while and see if I can get to know Olivia. And … stuff.”

  And Quinn. His expression was non-committal, but Christy wondered if he could resist the lure of working with Tamara on the international stage. Christy swallowed the lump in her throat. Probably not.

  Roy cleared his throat. “Sounds like everybody has bits and pieces going on.”

  “You could put it that way,” Quinn said. There was amusement in his voice. “Why don’t you tell us what you have planned, Dad?”

  Roy looked at him gratefully. “All right, I will.” He jumped up from his seat, then hurried into the house. A couple of minutes later he returned. He was holding what looked like a thin, tabloid newspaper in his hand. He cleared a place on the table and spread out the newsprint. They all gathered around, including Noelle.

  The cat hopped up onto the table to look. He put his paw on the paper, above a diagram that appeared to be a map of some kind. What’s this?

  “This is a map of the campground at Clan Ranald Beach.” Roy beamed as he looked at each of them in turn. “The most beautiful beach on the West Coast.” He stopped, frowning. “One of the most beautiful beaches. Anyway, it’s a great beach. Long and sloping, perfect for kids who want to paddle in the shallows. No undertow.” He shot a significant look at Christy, then Noelle. “Family friendly.”

  “Okay,” Christy said, wondering what he was plotting.

  “As good as Mary Petrofsky’s beach?” Noelle asked.

  “Better,” Roy said. “It’s in BC.”

  “Dad,” Quinn said.

  Roy ignored him. “Reservations for the campsites at Clan Ranald open in February and book up really quickly.” He looked around and beamed with pleasure. “I booked three sites for the first two weeks of August. The sunniest two weeks of the summer.”

  “Three sites, Dad?”

  He nodded. His finger stabbed down onto the diagram, which apparently was a map of the facility. “Back end of the campground. A double just before the curve of the road, and a nice little space opposite, across the way.”

  They all looked at the map and Roy’s pointing finger. Christy could see a squiggly line that indicated a path down to the beach starting not far from the double site. Roy was right. It was a great location.

  “The double sites are large ones, and they can each handle two family sized tents. I thought Christy and Noelle could share a tent over on this side of the double, with a pup tent for Ellen.” He looked up in time to see Ellen’s expression of shocked disbelief, so he added hastily, “Or we could do one big tent for all three of you.” Ellen’s expression didn’t change. “Well, we can work out the details later. On the other side, Quinn and I would share, with a small tent for Tamara. The site across the road is nestled in the trees. It isn’t as big, but there’s room for two small tents, so Trevor and Sledge wouldn’t have to share.”

  Sledge laughed. “I’m invited too?”

  Roy raised his brows and nodded. “Each site comes with a picnic table, so we could wrestle the two tables on the double site together to make one long one. That should seat all of us. We’d set up a covered area at the back of site for chairs and conversation.” He nodded again. “So that’s the plan. Who’s in?”

  Sledge said, “What happens when one of my fans recognizes me and has a freak out? The whole campground will know who’s sleeping in the site round the corner.”

  Roy studied him thoughtfully. “You’ve got a good beard. Grow it out, shave your head, and wear a ball cap. No one will recognize you.”

  Christy almost laughed. Sledge looked astounded.

  “Shave my head?” He fingered his signature tousled, carefully styled locks.

  Trevor did laugh. He poked his son and said, “I’m in. What about you, rock hero?”

  After a moment, Sledge’s inherent sense o
f humor took over and he shrugged. “Why not? Sure I’m in. But I’m not shaving my head.”

  Roy nodded. “Your choice.”

  “We’re going camping?” Excitement glittered in Noelle’s eyes. “Mom? Are we going camping too?”

  Sharing a campsite with Quinn and Tamara was not Christy’s idea of an ideal vacation, but the hopeful expression on her daughter’s face chased away her reluctance. She smiled and indulged in a mom ruffle of Noelle’s hair. “Yes, sweetheart, we’re going camping.” She looked at Roy. “My parents and I camped at a beach on Lake Ontario when I was a kid, so I’ve got some experience. I’ll help you organize the set up.”

  “Great. We’ll need tents, sleeping bags, air mattresses—”

  “Air mattresses and sleeping bags?” Ellen said. “As in bedding down on the ground?”

  Again, Christy wanted to laugh, this time at the astonishment in Ellen’s voice. “That’s pretty much how it works.”

  Quinn’s lips twitched. “Don’t forget the communal bathrooms.”

  “They’re flush toilets, not pit toilets,” Roy said indignantly. “And there are showers available as well. What more would you want?”

  “An en suite bathroom, a king-sized bed, fresh sheets and towels daily, room service,” Ellen said tartly.

  “This is camping,” Roy said. “Being one with nature. Pitting yourself against the elements … ”

  Quinn took a look at Ellen’s horrified expression and said, “Dad, you’re not helping.”

  Roy sighed gustily. There was disappointment in the sound.

  Ellen frowned. “Well … ” She was clearly wavering.

  Roy brightened.

  Before he could say anything else that might deter Ellen, Trevor said, “New experiences, Ellen. Think of it. Walks on the beach in the moonlight. The sound of the wind ruffling the tree tops as you fall off to sleep—”

  “Mini golf with your great niece,” Christy murmured.

  Ellen had been looking at Trevor, her expression softening, but at Christy’s words she glanced sharply at her and then at Noelle, who was listening to everything the adults said with big eyes and an avid expression. “All right,” Ellen said. She took a deep breath. “I’m in.”