The Big Kitty

by Claire Donally

  Splitting an order of those meatballs as an appetizer, Sunny had to admit they were pretty darned good. So was the stuffed artichoke they also shared. The whole meal was a throwback to the glory days of Italian red-sauce cuisine. Along with a few glasses of wine, it made for a mellow mood. Sunny enjoyed Will’s combination of ironic humor and self-deprecation.

  “You went to school up here instead of in Levett?” Sunny said. “Why would you—oh, of course. Saxon Academy.”

  Will rolled his eyes. “Yeah, the snob school of Elmet County. I managed to get in on a scholarship—regardless, it was a pretty good four years.”

  He sipped his wine. “Of course, most of the kids who graduated tried for Ivy League schools. Some of the teachers were disappointed that I went for a school with a major in law enforcement.” Will put his glass down. “So was my dad. Sometimes I think I’ve spent an awful lot of my life annoying the sheriff of Elmet County, no matter who it might be. See, my dad wanted me to be a lawyer—that was his idea of stepping up in the world.”

  “And you?” Sunny asked.

  “I was interested in the law,” Will admitted. “But mainly in enforcing it. Still, after college I entered law school, just to please the old man—until everything went to hell. When Dad died, I gave up on law school and signed up with the state troopers. Took a posting with Troop F, way on the other end of the state by the Canadian border. After a few years up there, I knocked around the state on different assignments. Then I decided to take a shot at city policing. Maybe Portsmouth wasn’t the smartest idea for that. A lot of people on this side of the river were getting tired of Frank Nesbit and imported me as a thorn in his side.” He sighed. “I want to be a cop, not a politician.”

  Sunny swallowed her bite of tender gnocchi in pesto sauce. “What about your mom?”

  “She and Dad got divorced when I was still in grammar school. I didn’t see much of her after she moved down to New York and remarried. Never liked a city that big.” He coughed and pushed his wineglass away. “Sorry. I know you lived there for a while.”

  “It was going to be my big move.” Sunny let a little mockery into her own voice. “The Standard was expanding from the suburbs into the big city, and the chain that owned the paper recruited the best and brightest from their other rags to join the spearhead. I figured if I could establish myself in the big town, maybe I’d have a chance at the Times. Of course, the problem was that the paper business was all set to contract. While I was up here taking care of my dad, the Standard got rid of its city bureau—and my job. Even worse, I had been going out with the guy who ended up canning me.”

  She gave him an embarrassed smile. “Is that enough true confession for the evening? Or do I act like a pushy reporter and ask about Jane Rigsdale?”

  “Ouch!” Will picked up his glass again. “My reaction when she called my name didn’t hide much, did it?”

  “Well, you obviously knew one another in a former lifetime,” Sunny told him. “Hey, I went to school with Jane, although we weren’t what you would call friends. Still, I remember hearing the rumors that she was going out with a college guy. And when I saw the way the two of you acted, well, duh.”

  Will took a sip of his wine. “Let’s just say it was a bad breakup—on both sides.”

  Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring up Jane, Sunny suddenly thought. I get all defensive when I even think about her. It’s not high school anymore. I don’t have anything to envy her for. Sunny almost dropped her fork when she realized that wasn’t true. I am jealous of her. Jane came back to Kittery Harbor on her own terms, she’s got her own business … and she fits in. She even asked about Will before I even thought about dating him. Sunny looked down at her plate. I guess I’ll have to be nicer to her the next time we speak.

  “Let’s talk about something else,” Sunny said, abruptly. “Did you find anything interesting at the Spruance place?”

  “I learned that when a tweaker tries to search for something, he’s not exactly methodical.” Will sounded exasperated. “I spent some time over there this afternoon. Get this—the sheriff has actually encouraged me to poke around a little.” He looked up, struck by a thought. “Would you like to come along tomorrow? What the place needs is a horde of CSI types, but of course Nesbit isn’t gonna bust the budget or ask the state for help. So it comes down to me, and I’d be happy for an extra pair of eyes. Besides, you’ve been there before. You might spot something that I’d miss.”

  “Oh, you baited that hook very well,” Sunny told him. But she did agree to meet him the next morning. After that, their conversation turned to more mundane but pleasant topics, and they somehow made their dinner last for hours.

  By the time Will took Sunny home, it was a bit late. She saw that her dad had left a light on in the living room, just as he used to back in her high school days; she could see the glow in the window as Will walked her to the house. Reaching the door, they hesitated for a moment, facing one another in the dimness.

  “Well, this shows how out of practice I’ve gotten with the whole social thing.” Will sounded a little annoyed with himself. “I’ve gotten more used to handcuffing people than wishing them a proper good night.” He hesitated for a second. “You would like a proper good-night kiss, right?”

  “Some clue spotter you are,” she told him, raising her face to his. Their lips met in a very satisfactory kiss. Sunny tasted the Barolo wine they’d both shared—and a touch of garlic.

  Will stepped back, grinning like a schoolboy. “Tomorrow, then?”

  “Tomorrow,” she promised and went inside.

  Given the hour, and maybe a sense of tact, Mike wasn’t downstairs. Shadow was up, though, and he gave Sunny a warm welcome.

  *

  Shadow had been dozing on the couch that the Old One had abandoned when the noise of a key in the lock roused him. He went to the archway to see Sunny close the door and then hop around comically, trying to remove her boots silently. Maybe she did, as far as a two-leg might hear.

  He made a beeline for her ankles, twining around them and sniffing appreciatively. He caught the scents of delicious food and strange spices. No wonder Sunny was in a good mood. She had eaten well. When she knelt to pet him, though, he also caught the sweet-sour smell of weird drink. Sometimes it made humans happy; sometimes it made them want to fight. Shadow had seen it go either way. One of the two-legs he’d lived with had even poured him some. He hadn’t liked it.

  Luckily, the stuff had made Sunny cheerful. She spoke to him softly as she petted him in all the most comforting places. He lay bonelessly at her knees as she spoke to him softly and chuckled. He purred back at her.

  *

  Smiling, Sunny gave Shadow a tummy rub, not minding the cat hair she’d undoubtedly get all over her cords. It had been a good night indeed, getting to know more of Will Price. For the first time since she’d come back to Kittery Harbor, Sunny didn’t feel so … lonely. With a little surprise, she realized that she hadn’t even admitted that feeling to herself before.

  Shadow gently butted his head against her hand, demanding a little between-the-ears scratching. Sunny obliged, softly saying, “Y’know, cat, besides you and that glitzy salon, I think I’ve discovered another great thing since I came home.”

  After Shadow had gotten the full treatment, Sunny collected her boots, doused the lamp, and tiptoed up to her room. She put away her clothes and slipped into a comfortable pair of pajamas. Making sure not to disturb her father, she quietly walked to the bathroom, removed her makeup, and brushed her teeth. Then, returning to her room, she went off to sleep with happy thoughts swirling in her brain.

  But it seemed that Sunny had barely closed her eyes when she heard her father’s voice calling. She sat up, blinking, and looked at the clock. The display said it was after three in the morning.

  Padding down the hall, she tried to clear away the fog in her head. But when she saw Mike half reclining on his bed in the pool of light from his nightstand lamp, she jolted awake. His fac
e was pale, his eyes were wide and scared, and his hand clutched his chest. “I’ve got pain,” he said hoarsely.

  “It’s probably angina.” Sunny tried to sound matter-of-fact. “You’ve had it before.”

  But Mike hadn’t had those kinds of chest pains in months. Please let it be that, she silently prayed as she opened the drawer in the nightstand to pull out the bottle of nitroglycerin tablets.

  Trying not to rush and scare Mike even more, she went to the bathroom to get a glass of water and suddenly discovered she had a furry companion in the hall. But Shadow didn’t try to get into Mike’s room.

  Sunny helped her father sit upright in bed, arranging the pillows behind him. She let him take a sip of water to rinse his mouth, then he spat it back into the glass. Finally, she slipped one of the little pills under his tongue. She sat on the edge of the bed, holding his hand and timing five minutes on his clock.

  “All gone?” she asked.

  He opened his mouth and showed that the pill had dissolved.

  Sunny didn’t have to ask if he was feeling better. Mike’s hand remained pressed to his chest. Another five minutes went by, and she gave her dad another tablet. Though she did her best not to show it, Sunny felt a little nervous. The nurse who had arranged Mike’s departure from the hospital had been very clear about what she called the “three strikes” policy. In case of chest pain, Mike got one nitro tablet. Five minutes after that one dissolved, if the pain didn’t let up, he got another. And if the condition didn’t abate, he got a third. If that didn’t work, Sunny would call 911 and take her dad in to the emergency room.

  Long minutes passed. At last Mike leaned back, letting out a sigh. “It’s going.”

  Sunny rearranged his bed so he could lie down again. Mike wished her a good night and turned off his light. By the time she got to the door, Sunny could hear regular breathing on the edge of sleep. She left Mike’s door open—her own, too.

  I want to make sure I hear anything, she thought.

  As she lay in the darkness, though, she couldn’t hold back a grin that mixed exasperation and humor. Dad has a heart episode, takes two pills, and drifts right off to sleep. Sunny the caretaker, however, can’t seem to close her eyes.

  Maybe I’m the one who needs a couple of pills, she thought.

  Her door pushed open slightly, the hinges making the faintest of noise. Sunny heard a couple of light footfalls, then she made out the slightly darker form of Shadow walking along her bed. He came up to her shoulder, butting his head against it gently, and rested a forepaw there.

  Shaking her head, Sunny reached up to pet him. “Yeah,” she whispered. “More excitement than we needed.”

  He stayed with her, a warm, comforting presence, until she finally drifted off to sleep.

  19

  Sunny felt brightness against her closed eyelids, opened one eye to a slit, and quickly closed it against the glare. Had she left her blinds open? If sunlight got from the edge of the blinds to her pillow, that meant it was pretty …

  Late!

  She remembered what had happened the night before and sat bolt upright in bed. A glance at her clock showed that it was, indeed, late. Almost flying out of bed, Sunny went down the hallway to check on her dad.

  Mike lay on his side, his breathing deep and regular as he slept. Watching him, Sunny wondered, just for a moment, if the whole angina attack thing had been some sort of nightmare. Then she spotted the bottle of nitroglycerin tablets on his bedside table.

  Sunny reached over and touched his shoulder gently. “Dad? How are you doing?”

  Mike opened his eyes and peered at her for a second. “Huh,” he said. “Kinda late to be sleeping.” He stretched. “Feels good, though.”

  Then he woke up enough to remember the previous night’s attack. Reflexively, he put a hand to his chest and then dropped it. “No, really, I feel okay.”

  “Good enough for breakfast?” Sunny asked, and he nodded.

  She made a brief detour to her room and her cell phone, calling Will Price’s number. When she explained what had happened overnight, he readily agreed to push back the time they were supposed to meet by an hour.

  By that time, Sunny had showered herself awake, fed her father, Shadow, and herself, and put on clothes appropriate for traipsing through a dusty, dirty house.

  Mike had established himself on the living room couch with the Sunday paper, assuring her he was fine. “You know how these things go,” he said. “They always happen at night. I take the little pills, go to sleep, and I’m right as rain in the morning.”

  He made shooing motions at her. “Go and do what you have to do. You’re only gonna be a couple of blocks away, not a couple of towns. And you’ve got your cell phone.”

  Even as he spoke, she was checking the charge on the battery.

  “Okay,” Sunny said, still feeling a little nervous about the situation.

  Will must have picked up on it when he came to the door. He made a point of coming inside and saying hello to Mike.

  When they finally left, Shadow darted out the door before Sunny could get it closed. He managed a neat trick—evading Sunny’s attempts to pick him up while staying close to her heels. She looked up at Will, who was trying not to laugh. “Do you mind if he comes along? Maybe he knows where we’re going.”

  When they had settled themselves in the pickup, Will said, “By the way, your dad looks okay. You’re who I’d have picked as the one who was up all night with chest pains.”

  “Just with worry,” Sunny replied, blinking in the sunlight. Damn! She’d forgotten her sunglasses. “He hasn’t had one of these episodes in months. That leaves me wondering. Dad’s tried to put a good face on it, but I think this whole situation, especially the nonsense aimed at us, or rather, at me, is stressing him out.”

  “Then let’s hope we find something to crack this case,” Will said.

  That sentiment seemed overly hopeful when they arrived at the Spruance place. Sunny could see that Gordie had moved a lot of stuff around, but he hadn’t gotten rid of anything. Black trash bags lay everywhere.

  Probably afraid that if he threw anything out, the lottery ticket would be hidden in it somewhere, she thought. She flexed her hands, trying to get used to the feel of the heavy rubber gloves Will had insisted they wear … along with face masks.

  They stood in the living room, a glare of sunlight coming in through the window that had lost its drapes.

  “This has to be where our man outside saw the flashlight,” Will said. “So we know the intruder was in here somewhere.”

  “Well, we know this is one of the rooms she used,” Sunny pointed out. “It would seem reasonable to search in places she frequented. Ada said she’d lost the ticket. She didn’t say she’d hidden it and forgotten where the damn thing was.” The possibilities involved in that theory made her shudder. “Imagine checking under the liner in the litter box.”

  Shadow circled around the room, making little grumbling noises. Sunny watched him, fascinated. Was he looking for the other cats who used to live here? Was he just responding to the way Gordie had rearranged things in this once-familiar room? Or had Shadow forgotten about Ada’s death—was he looking for his former mistress amid the mess?

  The cat kept sniffing around Ada’s chair and acting generally unhappy.

  Will watched him for a moment, then said, “You know, people who spend a lot of time in meth labs hang around some pretty unpleasant-smelling chemicals. Could our furry friend be reacting to that?”

  “How do we know it’s not just Gordie’s smell, since he was setting up the lab himself?”

  “We don’t,” Will admitted. “But I’m betting Shadow’s responding to the freshest scent.”

  He got down on one knee. “The chair’s been moved,” he announced. “You can see the indentations the legs left in the rug.” He looked at the slightly shaggy upholstery and shook his head. “Nothing here that would take a print.”

  Examining the table next to the chair, thoug
h, he got a little more hopeful. “The dust is disturbed where someone might have picked the table up or shifted it.” He pointed, keeping his finger carefully above the surface. “Whether there are prints, smudges—or if the guy wore gloves like us—I’ll leave that up to the lab people.”

  “It makes sense,” Sunny said, peering around the pieces of furniture. “Ada spent a lot of time here. Do you think we should have a look?” She pointed at the chair cushion.

  “I don’t think it would hurt. As I said, there are no prints here.” Will pulled the cushion loose to reveal a comb, several hard candy wrappers, an emery board, and a catnip mouse that had all gotten tucked down the seams. No lottery ticket, though.

  “I’ll take a look for any marks in the kitchen,” Will said. “That’s the only other place the intruder could have gotten to in the amount of time he was here.”

  Standing alone in the dusty living room, Sunny tried to imagine what it would be like to live here, with her life bounded by the few little areas that Ada had struggled to keep clean. The living room chair and the TV. The kitchen. She’d use the stairs in the back to get to the cellar if she needed anything from there. The kitchen door, for bringing in food supplies. Maybe the pantry area could do with a search.

  Sunny glanced over toward the front door. Would Ada ever come and go that way? She walked over to the foyer and the little odds-and-ends table that stood beside the door. It was just the place to pick up a purse or car keys before going out—or perhaps to rest a bag when coming back from shopping.

  A thick layer of dust covered the surface of the table, however, so it was clear that nothing had rested there for a while. A row of three small, impractical drawers stretched under the tabletop—pretty, but you couldn’t fit much in them. Two held buttons, spare keys, change—the sort of stuff that gets emptied out of pockets. The middle one, though … Sunny’s heart almost stopped when she saw the lottery logo printed on the back of the paper. Fingers trembling, she turned it over …

  And snorted at herself. Oh, it was a lottery ticket, all right. But it was dated about a week before Ada died.