The Cat, the Sneak and the Secret

by Leann Sweeney

  “What do you mean by stealing his breath?” I asked.

  “Cat was a thief. Hauled stuff here like she owned it—but what cat needs a pair of socks or a scarf?” Floretta laughed and then stopped abruptly and squinted, seemed to be pondering something. “You know, I ain’t seen that cat since about the time you left, Wilbur.”

  Tom finally spoke. “And when exactly was that?”

  “Saturday last. I come back yesterday,” Wilbur said.

  “You haven’t seen the cat in four days?” I asked.

  “Nope.” Floretta nodded, sure of this. “She may have been sweet, but she sure did like to collect trash. I figured she’d found some way to get in that donation box ’cross the road. Course, a few times, I did catch her tryin’ to steal from our house when she snuck in. Had one of my bedroom slippers once, don’t you know?”

  And yes, that would be Magpie. But what sent a chill up my neck to tingle my scalp was the realization that perhaps Rhett Marner died here—in this garage—and the lone witness besides the killer was our new family member, Magpie.

  Tom shone his light where Wilbur and Floretta said the sofa belonged. I caught a glimpse of a small pile of what looked like the kinds of things Magpie collected—a small teddy bear, a pencil—but that was about all I could identify for certain before Tom spoke.

  “Folks, I’m truly sorry, but you’ll have to leave the garage. I’m getting my forensic officer over here. Do you know Deputy Carson, Mrs. Strickland?”

  “I do, but I know her mama better. We go to the same church.” She punched Wilbur’s arm. “The same one he should be attendin.’ But what the holy-oh-heck is happenin’ here, Mr. Tom Stewart? Are you really a policeman? ’Cause I never seen you before today.”

  “I guarantee you I am an officer, ma’am. Now, if y’all would go back in the house, I’d appreciate it.” He was ready to make the call to Candace.

  “All right,” Wilbur said. “Not that I like it one bit. Floretta’s right. We need to know what’s goin’ on.”

  “I understand.” Tom walked toward us, as if to hurry us along. “I promise to fill you in when I have all the facts. Just know that your truck and your missing sofa are important to an ongoing investigation.”

  Floretta, sharp as a tack, it would seem, came back with “Is this about Rhett Marner dying? ’Cause that’s the only thing I know of that’s happened in this town and is important enough to have you here tellin’ us what to do.”

  Tom nodded indulgently. “This is frustrating, I know. You’ve been so helpful and I want to thank you for that.”

  “Come on, Floretta.” Wilbur tugged her hand. “Let’s go to the house. We’ll find out soon enough.”

  I hung back for a second and when they were gone I said, “Should I tell them anything?”

  “Probably not yet. But I’m betting Mrs. Strickland would tell you all about this nephew Bo with a little prompting.”

  “Shouldn’t you or Candace be the ones to bring that up?”

  Tom closed his eyes. “Sorry. You’re absolutely right.” I got a peck on the cheek before he told me to keep them in the house if at all possible until he could get Candace here.

  Turned out, however, that Bo Strickland might have been the apple of his aunt’s eye, but his uncle? Not so much. When I walked in the back door after a cursory knock, Wilbur was shaking his finger at Floretta.

  “You coddle that boy and now look what he’s gone and done. Got us all involved in something we shouldn’t even know about.”

  The two of them didn’t seem to notice I was standing in the kitchen with them.

  “He didn’t come to me for the truck, Wilbur. Never asked me for the keys.” Floretta’s high cheekbones bore red circles of heat.

  “Then how’d he get them keys?” Wilbur shot back.

  She looked at her scuffed house shoes. “I may have left ’em in the garage.”

  “Oh, ain’t that fine and dandy? You knew he’d come here the minute I rolled out of town.”

  I cleared my throat.

  They both turned and embarrassment sent a flush from Wilbur’s neck to his skull. “You heard all that. And I hope you heard what she went and done.”

  “I—I didn’t hear much at all—and I’m sorry for intruding. I can’t leave until Deputy Carson gets here, though.” I supposed I could. But something told me I should stay. “Sounds like Mrs. Strickland had good intentions, though.”

  “You’ve heard about the road to hell, right?” Wilbur directed this at Floretta, but when tears filled her eyes, her husband melted. He clutched her to him and told her he was sorry.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. These two reminded me of the way my grandparents interacted. They would speak their mind, but they always ended up comforting each other at the end of the day. And thinking of my grandparents gave me a start. “Oh no,” I muttered.

  Floretta looked at me. “What’s wrong, Miss Jillian? You okay?”

  “I forgot something I needed to do. Excuse me while I make a phone call.” I stepped out onto the porch where the signal was likely to be the best and called Martha’s home number. I apologized for forgetting to pick up my dress as promised.

  “Just as long as you don’t forget to marry that man, it’s all fine. The dress is at the shop and you can pick it up tomorrow.”

  We said good-bye and I disconnected just as I caught headlights sweep the landscape to my left. Candace must be here. I stepped out into the early-evening air so thick with cool humidity my skin felt clammy. I walked around to the front of the house to catch her before she made it to the front door.

  “This place is where the sofa came from?” she whispered. “What’s the connection to Rhett Marner?”

  “I don’t know. We did learn the nephew’s name—Bo Strickland. And get this. Mr. Strickland kept that sofa for Magpie. The kitty used to hang out here when she was scouring the surrounding area for treasure.”

  “So we have a definite connection even without DNA. But I’ve never heard of a Bo Strickland. He hasn’t been in our jail that I know of. But I’m about to get to know him, that’s for sure.”

  She seemed energized by this lead and perhaps this would put thoughts of Mike’s death aside for at least a little while.

  “Is it okay for me to leave now? I don’t think I want to be here when you start putting crime scene tape up around the Stricklands’ garage.”

  “Are they being difficult?” Candace asked.

  “No. But they’re understandably concerned. And I don’t think they’re used to any attention from the police. They’re nice people, Candace.”

  “And I’ll be as nice as I am capable of being back to them. But this hasn’t exactly been the finest day of my life.”

  “I’ll introduce you to Floretta.”

  After they let Candace inside, I said good-bye and Floretta gave me a bear hug, saying how proud she was to have met me. I was embarrassed and said I was the one lucky enough to have met such a kind couple so willing to welcome strangers into their home.

  Then I drove home to join the kitties and the two special young folks staying with me. I wanted to comfort both Candace and Tom, but there would be little chance for that right away. They would be far too busy. Instead I’d been offering solace to Zoe Marner and wasn’t sure I’d done one bit of good there. And what was Lydia’s real purpose in showing up at Zoe’s house? She made people come to her office to fill out forms. She didn’t hand-deliver them. And was the autopsy even done yet so the death certificates could be issued? I doubted it. One thing I didn’t doubt was where Magpie had been before Finn adopted her. How I wished she could talk.

  Eighteen

  When I was feeling down, there was nothing better than coming home to fur friends who greeted me at the door with enthusiasm and of course the expectation that treats would be doled out immediately. But it was also nice to find Finn a
nd Lindsey sitting at the dining room table, apparently having a conversation. They both said hello as I tossed lots of treats on the floor. Even Magpie, who’d been hesitant about treats at first, gobbled up as many as she could.

  “You were gone a long time,” Finn said.

  “Yes. Things got a little more complicated after you left. But I’m home now and I’m hungry. What about you two? Pizza okay?”

  “Sure. Will Dad be home soon?”

  I cocked my head, smiled at him. “Your dad probably won’t be here or going home at all tonight. Could you call in a pizza order? Then I’ll fill you in on what’s gone on today.”

  After hanging up my coat and bag, I joined them at the table, but I was having a hard time containing the emotions filling me after the events of the day.

  Lindsey’s expression turned to concern and then she became guarded. “Is this about my father? Or is it something just between you and Finn? Because I can leave the room.”

  “There’s no reason to leave and it’s about the friend who passed—the one I mentioned before,” I reassured her.

  “What friend?” Finn’s voice was leaden with dread. “Who are you talking about? Is it Gramps? Did something happen to him and—”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Mike Baca died this morning.”

  Finn sat back in the chair, his surprise evident. “But wasn’t he something like forty? That’s young.”

  “Doesn’t matter how old he was. He died suddenly and I can’t say anything more. There’s an investigation. They’re calling it a serious incident.”

  “An accident? What? Tell me Jillian. You know we have history and I liked that guy.”

  When Finn first came to town, he’d spent a little time at Mercy PD explaining his unexpected arrival after crashing Tom’s car.

  I said, “What you need to know right now is that the mayor asked Tom to take over as interim police chief. That means he’ll be awfully busy.”

  “Okay,” Finn said. “That’s about the only thing you’ve said that makes perfect sense. That’s why he went with Candace to check out that truck.”

  “Exactly,” I replied. “He planned to tell you, but it’s been a tough time for everyone—first Lindsey and her family. And now Mike’s death leaving so many unanswered questions.”

  Lindsey slumped back in her chair and she spoke in a monotone. “Chief Baca talked to me yesterday, asked me questions about my daddy. He’s always been so nice, but I was a total idiot. Practically cursed him out.” She looked across at me. “I can’t say I’m sorry now. Can’t say I’m sorry to my daddy, either. I don’t deserve to be treated so nice by you two when I’ve been such a bitch to everyone in my life.”

  “I understand, Lindsey,” I said. “There’s no need to apologize to us.”

  Finn piped in, too. “I wouldn’t want to help you if I didn’t think you were a decent person. But you don’t believe it’s true. I was that way. I blamed everything bad that happened in my life on myself. Jillian and my dad helped me trust again, helped me like myself. You’ll rock it one day. Totally rock the planet.”

  A few tears escaped and she quickly wiped them away. She had a faraway look that I didn’t quite understand. Maybe Mike’s death reminded her that she’d lost her dad forever. That’s a hard thing to understand at age nineteen.

  The food arrived and we all must have been ravenous because we ate in silence, totally focused on the pizza and the side of hot wings Finn added to the order. Lindsey and Finn drank sweet tea, but I expected to have trouble sleeping as it was, so I couldn’t risk another load of caffeine.

  We played with the cats for a while and sure enough, Magpie was a total toy hog. No wonder she’d stolen them all and taken them to Finn’s room. Syrah was peeved that she tried to catch the mouse on a string before the others and after that, pushed him out of the way to get to the red laser dot first. We all needed the light moments the cats offered.

  When the cats tired of playing—and it was always they and not I who decided when it was over—we all sat in the living room. An awkward silence filled the space. What was there to talk about except two men dying? Nothing seemed important compared to that.

  But then the sound of the back door opening let us all breathe easily again. We needed another distraction, and this time it was Tom.

  “Dad?” Finn stood. “Jillian told us you wouldn’t be here tonight. And that you have a new job.”

  The dark circles accenting his blue eyes told me the man was exhausted and the sadness he must be feeling seemed to be breaking through in his drawn face and slumped shoulders. “Glad she told you. Listen, I can’t stay long. I just wanted to ask Lindsey a few questions. Is that all right?”

  “I guess,” she replied. “I told Mr. Baca—I mean the police chief—all I knew, but . . . well, maybe he didn’t record it or take notes?”

  “He did record it. It’s not about that. I figure you’re about the same age as Bo Strickland.”

  “No way. He’s four years older than me.”

  “Okay.” Tom plopped down on the sofa next to me. “But you recognize his name, so you do know him.”

  “Know of him. Mercy only has three schools—for the small, the medium and the large kids. We ran into each other at times, maybe during my first year in high school, but we were never friends.”

  “What’s this about, Dad?”

  “The truck. I have to speak to this guy Bo about it, but before I do that, I was hoping to get some info about him. I hate going into interviews cold.”

  “The truck belongs to him?” Finn asked.

  “Can’t answer that right now. Just trying to get a bead on this man—who I thought was a kid.”

  “What kind of info are you looking for?” Lindsey asked. She seemed intrigued.

  “Who he hangs with. What kind of guy he is. Did you ever hear about him getting into any trouble?”

  “No, but I don’t hear much about anyone from my high school days. My friends have all gone to college—you know, the big expensive ones with their parents footing the bill. My gossip grapevine dried up when they left.” A bitter edge had returned to her voice. It might take a long time for her to react less defensively, find the truly sweet girl who resided beneath her hard shell.

  “Sorry. Just thought you might know something. Gotta get back to work.” Tom kissed my cheek.

  But Lindsey apparently wasn’t satisfied with Tom’s explanation about a random guy she might have known. She was too smart for that. “If this has to do with my father, I have a right to know.”

  “No, you really don’t, Lindsey,” Tom said wearily. “I’m still investigating and if you want me to be honest, I believe you’re holding back. Kids don’t get as angry as you are without good reason. Why aren’t you at one of those expensive schools in a sorority and partying every weekend at football games? What’s going on with your brother? He’s a wreck since you took off. He cares about you and yet you left your home to stay here.”

  She stood, fists at her side, her back stiff, anger making a poor attempt to disguise the fear I saw in her eyes. “You want me to go home? Is that what this is about?”

  Tom stood so that now he was above her. “No. In fact, I don’t think you should go anywhere near your house right now. You can be yourself with Jillian.” He glanced down at me. “She brings out the best in people and, Lindsey, you have plenty of the best.”

  His words punctured Lindsey’s bubble of protection. She sat down, deflated. “I’m sorry for giving you attitude. I’m so sorry about the police chief. And I’m sorry about Seth. I’ll talk to him tomorrow after my classes. It’s my busiest day.”

  Tom was on an emotional roller coaster and he took a deep breath before saying, “Like I said, you need distance from your mother and her busy life right now. Go to school as usual. Call your brother, though. Keep in touch.”

  Hi
s patience might just run out if he stayed here any longer. Here he was, bending over backward to help a girl who was obviously wearing on him. That was Tom being Tom and another reason I loved him so much.

  He turned to leave and I followed him to the back door. What did he know about Lindsey that I didn’t? What did he know about Rebecca? Were they suspects in Rhett Marner’s death?

  He hugged me when we reached the back door, but we were interrupted when Magpie appeared out of nowhere, crawled up his pant leg and leapt onto his shoulder.

  “What the hey?” He went to pet her, but she quickly stole the pen from his shirt pocket and was off and running.

  He grinned. “That cat is hilarious. Good thing Mercy PD has no shortage of pens.”

  After he left, I rejoined Finn and Lindsey.

  Her first words once I sat down were “I’m a selfish idiot. Poor Seth has been left to deal with Mom alone. That’s a cruel thing to do to anyone, much less my own brother.”

  I wanted to agree with her but decided Lindsey had perfected her skill at hiding behind a facade. She’d learned from a master, after all—her mother. Plus, she didn’t need another hit to her self-esteem even though I did believe she was being a tad selfish.

  I said, “This will all be resolved soon. Tom and Candace will find out who killed your father.”

  “My dad is the best person to do this, Lindsey,” Finn said. “You have to trust him.”

  “Why was he asking about Bo Strickland? What’s he got to do with this?”

  She was looking to me for answers I couldn’t offer right now. “Maybe he worked for your father?” That was the only diversion I could come up with.

  “You think? Daddy and I never talked much about his work.” Her expression became more intense. “Did Bo kill my father, Jillian?”

  I closed my eyes briefly, trying to think my way out of revealing anything about the truck, the blood, and any of the other evidence connected to this case. It was giving me a headache.

  I felt two front paws touching my leg and glanced down to see Chablis’s sweet face and blue eyes. She jumped into my lap, sensing I needed a little help right now. I scratched between her ears and she began to purr. “I’m not sure the police have any idea who killed your father. But then, they don’t share everything with me.”