Final Catcall

by Sofie Kelly

  As I turned to go, he suddenly caught my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thanks, Kathleen,” he said softly.

  “You’re welcome,” I said.

  Hercules was on the bench in the porch. I gathered the mugs and went into the kitchen. He followed. “Merow?” he said.

  It seemed to me there was a question in the sound.

  “That was Detective Lind,” I said as I put the mugs in the sink and ran some water to wash them.

  He tipped his black-and-white head to one side and gave me a quizzical look. Either he wanted to know if there were any more stinky crackers or he was wondering why he hadn’t seen Hope Lind before. I decided to go with the latter.

  “She’s been away finishing her degree.”

  He murped and sat down beside me while I washed the cups and dried all the dishes.

  I thought about what I would do if I were in Marcus’s place, if Sara or Ethan had a connection to a murder. I wouldn’t be able to do nothing.

  I glanced down at the cat. “Marcus is going to try to talk to Hannah before anyone else does.”

  Hercules made a noncommittal sound.

  “It’s not really any of my business,” I said.

  No response. I wasn’t sure if that meant that he agreed or disagreed. It probably meant he wasn’t even listening.

  “Marcus won’t be allowed to stay on the case, not as long as Hannah’s connected to it in any way. And she is connected. I’m going to have to tell Detective Lind about Andrew seeing Marcus’s car. I should have told her already.” I was twisting the dish towel so tightly in my hands that the skin was stretched white over my knuckles.

  Marcus wouldn’t just step away from an investigation, especially one his sister was mixed up in. The first moment I’d seen them together I’d realized how close they were, even though he’d never talked about her to me.

  “He’s not going to back off,” I said. I could feel Hercules’s unblinking gaze before I looked down to see him staring up at me. I did see the irony of what I was saying. How many times had Marcus told me to stay out of one of his cases? Now I was the one who thought he should stay out of things.

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  Hercules made little muttering sounds and stared up at the ceiling.

  “How can I just do nothing?” I said.

  The last time I’d said those words—just a couple of weeks ago—things hadn’t ended so well. But this really was different; at least that’s what I told myself.

  “Marcus and I are friends. I don’t want him to do something that might put his job at risk. I’d do the same thing for Maggie or Roma.”

  The cat made a noise that could best be described as a snort. I ignored it. I grabbed my purse and started for the door with the cat on my heels. There was no point in trying to make him stay in the house. He would just walk through the door.

  I found a place to park on one of the side streets that ran up the hill from Eric’s. I wasn’t certain that was where Hannah was, but I knew it was a pretty good guess. “I won’t be very long,” I told Hercules, who had ridden shotgun down the hill, his green eyes seemingly watching the street all the way. “Then we’ll go home and have some sardines.”

  He walked across the bench seat to the driver’s door and pawed the air near my jacket pocket. I narrowed my eyes at him. “How did you know there were crackers in that pocket?” I asked, pulling out the bag.

  He wrinkled his nose at me. He would have been able to smell those crackers if they’d been in a lead-lined bag.

  I put the remaining treats on the seat. “I’ll be back,” I said. “Stay in the truck and stay out of trouble.”

  He shot me a look and murped as he dropped his head over the crackers. I didn’t have to speak cat to know that meant You too.

  11

  As I rounded the corner, Hannah was just coming out of Eric’s—and Marcus was standing outside waiting for her. Neither of them noticed me until I literally stepped between them.

  “Umm, hi, Kathleen,” Hannah said. She was confused, her eyes darting from me to her big brother.

  “What are you doing here?” Marcus asked, his mouth pulled into a tight line.

  “Same thing as you,” I said. “I came for some coffee.” I turned to Hannah. “By the way, Detective Lind is looking for you.”

  “Me? Why?” She was a very good actress. Nothing showed in her face. On the other hand, I could feel the tension coming off of Marcus’s body like mist rising from the river.

  There was no point in dancing around it. “I was going through Hugh’s papers, looking for some of his notes for Ben. There was a clipping stuck to a piece of paper. You wrote ‘Drop dead’ across the front of it.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, I did.” She tightened the scarf at her neck. “I don’t know if you noticed, but the clipping was about a new play that’s going to be produced. I’m on the short list for a part. They lost their director and Hugh was at me to suggest him as a replacement.” She held up her hand. “I told him that I didn’t want to get involved in anything political like that and ruin my chances at the part. He wouldn’t let it go. He kept bugging me about it. It was a couple of days before the fire at the theater in Red Wing and I’d had enough. I picked up a marker from his desk and wrote ‘Drop dead’ right across that clipping. Then I stalked off.” She rolled her eyes. “It was very dramatic.”

  I smiled. “Then you just need to tell Detective Lind that.”

  Hannah shrugged. “All right.”

  “And you probably should have a lawyer.”

  “Because I wrote ‘Drop dead’ on an article from a newspaper? You can’t be serious?”

  “Kathleen’s right, Hannah,” Marcus said behind me. “That’s how the system works.”

  “Where am I supposed to find a lawyer?” she said. “I guess I could open up the phone book and play one potato, two potato.” She crossed her arms over her chest and gave both of us a slightly annoyed look.

  “I can get you a lawyer,” I said. “Marcus is right. Let the system work the way it’s designed to work.”

  Hannah held up both hands in surrender. “Okay. Find me a lawyer then.”

  “It won’t take very long,” I said. I took a couple of steps away from them, pulled out my cell and dialed Lita Clarke’s home number. Everett’s assistant answered on the third ring. “Hi, Lita,” I said. “It’s Kathleen.”

  “Hi, Kathleen,” she said. I could hear her smile through the phone. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m looking for a lawyer.”

  “Criminal or civil?”

  “Criminal.”

  “Brady Chapman,” she said at once.

  “Chapman?” I said. “Any relation to Burtis?”

  “His youngest.”

  Burtis Chapman, the town bootlegger, had a son who was a lawyer? Why didn’t I know that? I glanced over at Hannah and Marcus. They were talking quietly about something.

  “Lita, it’s Saturday. Do you have a number for Brady Chapman other than his office?” I asked.

  “I have his cell.” She rattled off a phone number and I repeated it to myself so I wouldn’t forget it. “Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll call Brady,” she said, “and give him a heads-up that he’ll be hearing from you.”

  It occurred to me that Lita was just about the only person I knew who, if I said I needed a lawyer, wouldn’t ask me why. “Thanks, Lita,” I said. “I owe you for this.”

  “Oh, you’re welcome,” she said. “I’m glad I could help.”

  I ended the call and looked at my watch. I watched the second hand make three circuits of the dial and then I punched in the number that Lita had given me.

  “I just talked to Lita,” Brady Chapman said after I’d explained who I was. He sounded a little like his father. “She said you need a lawyer. What’s the problem?”

  I explained about Hannah and the clipping.

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “Eric’s Place,” I said.

 
“Stay put. I can be there in about ten minutes.”

  I put my phone in my purse and walked back to Hannah and Marcus. “You have a lawyer,” I said to Hannah. “Brady Chapman. He’ll be here in about ten minutes.”

  Marcus nodded. “He’s good.” His blue eyes flicked to me. “Thanks.”

  I nodded.

  “Yes, thank you, Kathleen,” Hannah said. She looked around. “So should we just wait here?”

  I pushed my bangs back off my face. “Why don’t we go have coffee while we wait?”

  “All right,” she said.

  We went inside. Eric raised a hand in hello from the counter. I pointed to a table along the end wall and he nodded. I held up three fingers, figuring he would know I meant three coffees.

  Nicolas came over in a moment with the pot and filled our mugs. “Can I get you anything else?” he asked.

  Marcus shook his head. “Not right now, thank you.”

  “Just let me know when you need a refill,” he said and moved toward another table.

  Hannah put both hands flat on the table. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have written that on the newspaper clipping. It was childish, but I was just so frustrated in the moment.” She glanced at her brother. “I forgot all about it. If I’d remembered, I would have told you.”

  “It’s okay,” Marcus said. “Once Chapman gets here you can talk to Detective Lind and get this whole thing straightened out.”

  I knew I needed to say something about the SUV Andrew had seen before Brady Chapman arrived. I traced the curve of my spoon handle with one finger. “Hannah, what time did you get back from Red Wing last night?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t look at the clock. It was late. Eleven thirty, maybe?” She nudged Marcus with her arm. “Do you remember?”

  “Quarter to twelve, I think,” he said. “I’d only been home myself about ten minutes.” He stretched his long legs under the table.

  “Okay, about quarter to twelve then,” Hannah said. “Why did you want to know?”

  “Did you by any chance drive past the marina on your way to Red Wing?” I asked.

  “No.” She pointed over her shoulder. “Red Wing is that way.”

  “Why are you asking?” Marcus said. His hand had tightened around his cup. It was the only sign that he had slipped into police detective mode.

  I took a sip of my coffee before I answered. “I talked to Andrew this afternoon. He remembers seeing a dark-colored SUV drive past the marina a couple of times while we were unloading the piece of the stage.”

  “Why didn’t he tell me that last night?”

  I shifted in my chair, eyeing the door and hoping that Brady Chapman would show up soon. “He probably forgot. And he didn’t even realize it was important.”

  “Marcus, it doesn’t matter,” Hannah said. “It wasn’t me. I drove to Red Wing right after rehearsal and I spent hours going through everything that had been salvaged from the fire. There were boxes and bags of stuff and it all smelled like it had been barbecued.” She looked at me across the table. “Anyway, there has to be more than one dark-colored SUV like yours around here.”

  She was a very good liar. She didn’t flush. She didn’t fidget. She remembered to look me in the eye. Her body seemed relaxed. But I was certain she was lying. She met my gaze just a little too much. She shared more details than she needed to and her explanations were a little too practiced.

  Just then Brady Chapman walked in and looked around. I knew it had to be him—he looked so much like his father, a large man with broad shoulders and a square jaw. Burtis wore heavy work pants and flannel shirts, but Brady was dressed in an olive green fleece jacket over a black T-shirt and jeans.

  I got to my feet. He caught sight of me and walked over.

  “Kathleen?” he asked.

  I nodded and held out my hand. He had a strong, firm grip, again like his father.

  “I’ve discovered that you know my father,” he said with a smile. He had pale blue eyes—I’d once seen a husky with the same eye color—and salt-and-pepper hair.

  “Yes, I do,” I said, smiling back at him. Burtis could be intimidating but I liked him. He wasn’t above playing the hick from Wild Rose Bluff when it suited him, but he was, in reality, a whip-smart, very well-read man. I didn’t remember ever seeing Brady in the library.

  “I was at the house when Lita called. Dad gave me orders to make sure I helped you any way I can.”

  “That’s very kind of him.” I made a mental note to thank Burtis next time I saw him.

  Marcus had gotten to his feet.

  “Good to see you, Detective,” Brady said. The two men shook hands and then Marcus introduced him to Hannah.

  Brady took the chair where I’d been sitting and I slid into the seat opposite Marcus. He pulled a small notebook and a mechanical pencil from his pocket. “Okay, tell me what happened.”

  I explained how I’d found the newspaper clipping in the box of papers and recognized Hannah’s handwriting. Brady held up his hand. “Not one word,” he said to Hannah. He looked at Marcus and me. “We’re going to move to another table and you two are going to stay here.”

  “I already explained things to them,” Hannah said.

  Brady shook his head. “Doesn’t change anything,” he said. He got to his feet. After a moment’s hesitation Hannah followed him.

  We sat in silence for at least a couple of minutes. Marcus watched his sister and Brady and I drank my coffee. Finally Brady pulled out his cell phone and made a brief call.

  Hannah got up and came over to us. “We’re set,” she said. “Detective Lind is at the police station. We’re going to talk to her.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Marcus said, getting to his feet again.

  She shook her head. “No, you won’t. I agreed to a lawyer, but I’m not taking you with me. I’m not six, Marcus.”

  “I’m a police officer,” he said. “I know how things work.”

  She gestured toward Brady. “And he’s a lawyer. I’m guessing he knows how things work as well.” She took a step back from the table. “I’ll see you later.” She turned to me. “Thank you, Kathleen, for all your help.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said.

  Marcus stood there without speaking until they were gone. “I’ll take care of the check and I’ll walk you out,” he said.

  “I’ll get it,” I said, zipping up my hoodie, but he was already on his way to the counter.

  I waited and we walked outside together.

  “And thank you for calling Brady Chapman,” he said once we were on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.

  “Thank Lita next time you see her.”

  He nodded. “I will.”

  I checked my watch. I had just enough time to go home, have a shower and go to Maggie’s—after I gave Hercules the sardines I’d promised him.

  “Hannah shouldn’t be very long,” I said to Marcus.

  “Why didn’t you tell me what your friend saw?” he asked.

  I should have seen that conversational detour coming. “I didn’t exactly have a chance,” I said. “I didn’t realize Andrew had seen anything until a few hours ago. He didn’t know that what he’d noticed was important.”

  Marcus jammed his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “You could have called me.”

  I tipped my head to one side and looked up at him. “I could have, but I was hoping somehow that I was wrong.”

  “Hannah said it wasn’t her.”

  I exhaled slowly. “I think she’s lying. I don’t know why and I wish she wasn’t, but I think she is.” I tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “I didn’t want to put you in a difficult position because your sister was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “You really think it was her who drove past the marina last night?”

  “How many navy blue SUVs with roof racks are there in this town, Marcus? Most people drive cars or half-tons.”

  He looked past me out toward
the water. “You don’t know that for sure,” he said.

  “It was Hannah, Marcus,” I said. “You think it was, too.”

  It took another long moment before he looked at me again.

  “So now you know what I’m thinking?”

  I tipped my head back for a moment and stared up at the clouds coming in from the river. When I looked at him again I tried to keep the frustration out of my voice. “No. I never know what you’re thinking. But I noticed you said, ‘Hannah said it wasn’t her,’ not ‘it wasn’t her.’” I swallowed the lump in my throat. This was what we always did and it always ended the same way. “Maybe I was trying to protect you, Marcus. Did you think of that?”

  He opened his mouth as though he was going to say something and then closed it again.

  His cases were always going to come between us. How could we be friends? How could we be anything? For the first time I wondered if maybe I should go back to Boston with Andrew.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, then turned and walked away down the sidewalk.

  “Kathleen, hang on,” he called after me.

  “My cat’s waiting for me,” I said.

  I didn’t look back over my shoulder and, as usual, he didn’t come after me.

  12

  Hercules was asleep on the passenger side of the truck, with his head on one paw and the other curled around his nose. He lifted his head and gave a curious “Merow” when I got in.

  “Marcus is a dipwad,” I said darkly.

  He put his head back down on the blanket that covered the front seat. Clearly that wasn’t news to him.

  There was no sign of Owen when we got home. I got Hercules half a sardine as payment for keeping me company and put out fresh water for both cats. Upstairs I grabbed my robe and headed into the bathroom for a quick shower. I gave a squeak of surprise when I discovered Herc had followed me and was sitting on the top of the toilet tank.

  When I started he jumped, almost losing his footing.

  “What are you doing in here?” I asked, hanging my robe on the hook on the back of the door.

  His response was to look around at the pale cream walls as though he was thinking about redecorating.