The Cat, the Sneak and the Secret

by Leann Sweeney

  “Nice try.” Lindsey got up and abruptly left the room, her “good night” tossed out over her shoulder.

  “She’s used to drama, I think,” Finn said in a low voice.

  “Oh, don’t you know it. I’ve met her mother.”

  Nineteen

  Lindsey was gone when I awoke the next morning, but she’d left a small overnight bag on the neatly made guest room bed. She and Finn must have picked up a few things at her house yesterday, because she’d had nothing with her when she first arrived. That bag meant that for now, at least, she wasn’t returning home and I felt relieved. As Tom had said last night, home wasn’t a good place for her right now.

  When I got to the kitchen, Finn confirmed she would be back later on. “I fixed her breakfast and while we were eating, she said she feels super guilty about the way she acted last night and for leaving her brother to deal with her mom. I haven’t met Mrs. Marner, but she sounds like she could own a few flying monkeys.”

  I doled out four dishes of wet cat food while my fur friends surrounded my ankles like sharks circling in the water. I said, “Rebecca’s not that bad. Well, almost. Her priorities aren’t where they should be, that’s all. A flawed human. Imagine that.”

  I washed the fishy smell off my hands once all the critters were chowing down.

  Sitting at the breakfast bar next to Finn, I put an arm around his shoulder and pulled him to me. “You’re a great friend to Lindsey. You should be proud of yourself.”

  He grinned, but the smile faded quickly. “Will Dad be okay? He didn’t say anything about the chief dying. He’s got to be feeling awful.”

  “Tom is the strongest person I know. This has been a terrible blow, but he’s determined the best way to honor his friend is to find out who killed him.” I wanted to grab the words back as soon as they left my mouth because nothing got past Finn.

  Finn pulled back, staring at me in silence for a few seconds. “He was murdered, too? Wow.” More silence before he said, “I’ll pretend I don’t know, because obviously Dad doesn’t want me to—but this is huge. No wonder he looked like he could be a cast member in The Walking Dead last night.”

  “Tom’s pretty shaken. By the way, remember not to ask me to keep any secrets. My mouth tends to spit out what my brain is focused on. Let’s change the subject. What are your plans for today?”

  “I wanted to stop by the Swap Shop and visit Gramps. He said he’d keep Yoshi until Magpie is more settled, but I miss that little guy. Think I could catch a ride?”

  “Sure. I have an errand to run in town anyway.” I wouldn’t forget to pick up my dress again, but I felt ashamed for even thinking about the wedding. I needed to talk to Tom about a delay, but I was certain that no matter what turmoil swirled around us, he would want us to go ahead—because that was what Mike would have wanted, too.

  Once I had an apple and some yogurt under my belt, we took off. The first stop, however, was Belle’s Beans. The morning was still chilly despite the sunny skies, and a latte was in order. The place was crowded this morning, but sweaters and jackets must have provided a sort of insulation. It seemed extra quiet.

  Finn had taken a liking to coffee since going to college, and as we waited in line, I saw a Mercy Messenger lying on a table nearby. Looking at it, I realized the front – page headline might have more to do with the hushed atmosphere than gearing up for a cold day.

  It read POLICE CHIEF DIES UNEXPECTEDLY.

  Mike had been well liked and respected. Losing a good man like him in a small town would of course send ripples of sadness through the whole community.

  The line moved slowly, perhaps because the Belle of the Day was someone I’d never seen before. When it was our turn, I smiled and said, “You’re new here. I’m Jillian and this is Finn.”

  “What can I get you?” She wasn’t the friendliest of baristas, something that could get her fired if the actual Belle saw her being borderline surly. She looked about my age, mid-forties, with weary eyes and a beaten-down presence. Her demeanor struck me as odd in this setting because Belle always hired cheerful types, be they old or young, male or female. She said the face that greets customers is the one that should keep them wanting to return. This lady did not fit the bill.

  I gave her our order, paid and stepped aside to wait. As she made our lattes, I asked her what her real name was.

  “Lucy,” came her curt reply.

  Maybe Lucy was another reason why Belle’s place seemed so subdued this morning.

  We left not long after, but before we reached my van, Belle came hurrying up the sidewalk and nearly ran right into us.

  She offered one of her famous smiles—and since she was wearing her glasses, her lipstick was directly on her lips where it should be. “How’s she doing? Because she’s new and wasn’t supposed to be alone, but one of my other Belles is sick, so—”

  “She’s fine. Seemed to know what she was doing,” Finn piped in. He took my coffee and said he’d wait in the van.

  I was guessing he feared I might say something less than pleasant about Lucy—which of course I would never do. I hadn’t even said anything to him, but he knew me well enough to guess what I’d been thinking about the woman.

  Belle glanced at the door to her shop. “I know she’s not as . . . perky as maybe she should be. But she’s got a little girl to raise and really needed the job.”

  “She’s doing amazing, Belle. I’d be pulling out every strand of hair if you asked me to make a half-soy double-shot anything.”

  Belle laughed and then grew serious. “What exactly happened to Mike? No one seems to know.”

  I couldn’t lie to Belle but couldn’t tell her anything, either. “I don’t want to spread rumors. I’m sure the police will give a statement soon.”

  She put her hands on both sides of my face. “I heard Tom took over for him and I know how hard this must be for all of you, especially Candace. Us folks don’t need knowing what we shouldn’t be knowing.” She hugged me and said she had to get inside to help Lucy. How I wished the world was filled with people as wise and wonderful as Belle Lowry.

  Knowing Ed wasn’t a fan of “fancy coffee” as he called it, we hadn’t brought him any. He usually had his own pot brewing early in the back room. Yoshi was so excited to see Finn that he nearly knocked Finn’s coffee out of his hands. I took the take-out cup from him so Yoshi could jump into Finn’s arms and kiss him.

  “Sad thing about Mike,” Ed said, gesturing me back toward the little kitchen area.

  “I’m taking Yoshi out to play with his Frisbee,” Finn called.

  “Good. Dog needs to run off some of that energy,” Ed said.

  We sat at a small round table in what had once been the kitchen of this crowded little house Ed had turned into a shop. Ed’s mug of coffee was steaming and he took a tentative sip. Mine had cooled down enough that I could have slugged the whole thing down, and I was tempted, since I was that much in need of caffeine. As expected, I’d spent a fitful night.

  “You know about any arrangements for Mike yet?” Ed asked.

  “I don’t even think the autopsy has been done yet, so no. I understand there’s just a sister and she doesn’t live in town.”

  “Suppose the county morgue is backed up what with two deaths right out of Mercy in as many days and who knows how many are comin’ in from other places. Seems like Rhett Marner finally crossed the wrong person.”

  “You knew him?” I was tempted to tell him about the sofa, how it was connected to Rhett, but I couldn’t.

  “There’s a word for men like him—quarrelsome. Always had to be right. Always had to argue about every little thing. Rubbed some folks the wrong way and then one of them just rubbed him right off the face of the earth.”

  “You know his family?” I asked.

  “Know his boy Seth the best. He comes in here every now and then lookin’ for fis
hin’ gear. He’s an odd one, but I like him. What teenage boy goes fishing alone? So I took him out on Mercy Lake a couple times, taught him a few things. He was polite and grateful, but a quiet kid. Sensitive type. Reminds me a little of Finn.”

  “That’s so kind of you to take the time with him, but I’m not surprised.”

  “Any excuse to go fishin’.” He offered a wry smile. “Rhett left his first family for the younger woman and you know kids suffer ’cause of that sometimes. Especially boys. A boy needs his daddy to show him the way.”

  “Are you saying he had an affair with Zoe before he divorced his first wife?” I was almost finished with my coffee and decided to warm it with some from Ed’s pot.

  “He sure did. She worked out on his site trailers and in his office. Did the books, kept track of equipment, paid the bills. Nice enough herself, but she has those two hellions. Used to come in here with them to look for video games. Maybe the good Lord decided her boys needed a daddy more than Seth and the older girl did. Don’t seem right, though.”

  I sat back down. “Did you know the girl, too?”

  “I did. Leslie, maybe? No, that’s not right.”

  “It’s Lindsey,” I said.

  “Yup, Lindsey.” He tapped an arthritic finger on the table. “Smart as a whip, that one.”

  “You seem to know them pretty well, Ed.”

  “Guess I know more than I thought. In this business, I see everyone at one time or another. Miss Rebecca was always callin’ me to haul stuff from her house to sell here in my shop. She never donates the most expensive stuff to the charity store. She likes cash in hand—even though she never got near enough for whatever I took on consignment. She’s one of those ladies who has to ‘change things up’ about every year. New tables, new chairs, new rugs. If I had room in my truck, she’d ask me to take the shabbier things to that charity store she’s all involved with.”

  “Did you know her even before the divorce?” I asked.

  “No, right after. That’s when she decided to redecorate her big, old house—and it seems like she can’t help herself, ’cause every year like clockwork it’s out with the old and in with the new.”

  “When was the divorce again?” He’d piqued my interest, that’s for sure.

  “Maybe five or six years ago. You know, I remember one time, I came back to give her consignment money for a table I sold of hers—maybe five hundred bucks. Anyways, she had some babysitter livin’ there with Seth. She said Miss Rebecca had to take Lindsey to a special school. Told me Miss Rebecca would be stayin’ in a nearby rental for a couple of months while the girl got what she needed. The sitter for Seth was old Mrs. Handler, good friend of Tom’s mom. Mrs. Handler blamed the whole special-school thing on the divorce. Said it tore Lindsey up.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” So the scars that Lindsey covered with sarcasm and rude behavior dated back that long. Why should I be surprised? “What about Seth? How did he do?”

  “That’s about the time I started takin’ him fishin.’ He never went with his dad anymore. No better time to get a boy talkin’ about how he feels than when he has a fishing pole in hand.”

  “And did he say how he felt?” I was beginning to feel a buzz from the high-octane coffee Ed liked to make.

  “He was worried about his sister. Said she was mad about stuff. And the last time I spoke with Seth—maybe six weeks ago he come in here for a lure I’d called him about—he told me it ain’t got no better. The girl was mad at the world.”

  “I know her—in fact, she’s Finn’s friend—and Seth is spot-on. She is mad at the world. But now I understand her a little better. So thank you.”

  “With Mike’s passin’ so sudden, you still marrying in a few days? ’Cause I can’t wait to see you two hitched.”

  “I should have mentioned this the minute I walked in. With Mike dying suddenly, Tom took the police chief position—just an interim thing. Rhett’s murder has to be solved, too, so the mayor thought someone should step in immediately. The wedding could be put off.” I hadn’t let the truth slip out about Mike’s death this time, thank goodness.

  “Oh, Karen and me know all about the police chief job. Tom came rushing over with Dashiell last night so Karen could care for the cat. He said he’d be way busy the next few days and you already had a houseful of cats, but Dashiell needs his insulin on time. Karen will take good care of him.” Ed leaned closer. “She’d keep that tabby if Tom would let her. Loves him almost as much as she loves me.” He laughed and I joined him.

  Karen loving a cat was a good thing. She and Ed were such special people. I was so glad that I would officially become part of their family soon.

  Finn and I took off after about fifteen minutes, once Ed and his unofficial grandson spent a little time talking. Finn’s last visit to the Swap Shop had been cut short after we removed Magpie from the bloody sofa.

  After Finn came back inside with a panting Yoshi, we all agreed the little dog missed Finn. Dashiell’s blood sugar might spike from the stress of being anxious because Tom wasn’t around. Dashiell was certainly used to Yoshi, but under these circumstances, the dog’s high energy level sure wouldn’t help Dashiell stay as calm as he should. We agreed to pick Yoshi up later today at Karen’s house. Though Ed loved that dog almost as much as Finn did, it was time for Yoshi to get acclimated to a house full of cats. We’d have to ease Dashiell into his new living situation once Tom and I were married and he moved in.

  At Finn’s request, I dropped him off at the community college. He hoped to meet Lindsey when she had a break between classes. I was beginning to believe those two might become more than friends. Finn would sure be a great influence on Lindsey. He’d been through plenty living with his mother and could help Lindsey.

  I arrived to pick up my dress after taking Finn to the college and found Martha teaching a quilting class, so I had to wait a few minutes for her to finish. In the meantime, I texted Tom and asked if he wanted me to bring lunch for what were probably some very tired and hungry police officers. I suggested sub sandwiches like the ones we’d had the other night, and he texted back that it would be great if I had time to pick several up. I had plenty of time and a little information on Rhett that he might want to hear.

  Twenty minutes later I stood staring into the full-length mirror in Martha’s office. She told me she’d brought it from home. The creamy satin felt soft against my skin. The long sleeves had old-fashioned loops for a finger on each hand and using them pulled the sleeves down perfectly. The back of the dress mirrored the front and I realized I would have to wear a special bra, since the one I now wore showed beneath my shoulder blades—and it wasn’t a pretty sight.

  The small train might be difficult to manage, but its curving flow behind me had me picturing my grandmother walking down the aisle to greet her groom, my dear grandpa. My eyes filled. How I wished they were here to see me honoring their marriage by wearing this dress—because that really was what this was all about: love that lasted forever.

  “Don’t you go spilling tears on this dress, Jillian.” She handed me a tissue from her skirt pocket. “Had a feeling you’d get a little emotional when you saw yourself, so I brought some clean tissues along. It’s a beautiful dress and you’ll make a beautiful bride.”

  I dabbed at the corners of my eyes. “I have something old and something borrowed wrapped in one package.”

  Martha smiled and began examining the seams, the hooks in the back, the seams at the hips. “Seems right to me.”

  “It’s perfect. How much do I owe you?”

  “You don’t owe me a red cent. This was my privilege.”

  Once I took off the dress, Martha carefully folded it into its large box. We both were aware that plastic bags or boxes were not good for fabric—especially old fabric. The chemicals in plastic disintegrated the fibers, and I didn’t want that to happen.

  Though rain wa
s in the forecast, I was grateful the true cold front we expected hadn’t arrived yet. The dress made it safely to the back of my van and I was off to the sub shop, mentally calculating how many sandwiches to buy. There was a small fridge in the break room at the police station, and anything left over wouldn’t go to waste, so it was actually a mental calculation to occupy my mind. But it couldn’t erase how selfish I felt getting ready for a wedding while Mercy was preparing for two funerals.

  Twenty

  When I walked into the police station with my grocery-size bag of sub sandwiches and gallon jug of tea, the place felt different. I understood Mike was gone, but until that moment, the loss hadn’t totally sunk in. He was no longer down the hall in his office. Someone had taken him away from the people who cared about him. Their resolve to find his killer was something I now completely understood.

  B.J., sitting at his desk close to the door, cleared his throat. “Jillian? You okay?”

  I’d been so taken by the change in the place that I’d forgotten to say hello. “Hey there, B.J. I brought sandwiches.”

  “Great. Go on down to the break room.”

  “I hardly ever see you leave your desk. Promise me you’ll take time to eat?”

  “I’ll try.”

  This wasn’t the animated B.J. I knew, but then probably everyone here was doing their best to act normal and carry on while struggling to make sense of Mike’s death.

  As I walked down the hall, I heard the familiar sound of Tom’s voice behind a closed office door. Not Mike’s office, though. His door was open and flowers, cards, trays of cookies, pumpkin breads, stuffed animals and more sat on his big desk. All this was to help out a grieving police force. The town had loved and respected Mike, and they wanted to show how much they cared for those left behind.