I was shocked when the cat met my gaze, yowled, twined around my ankles a few times, then strolled to Hayley and sat on his haunches next to her, staring at me. Was he mocking me?
Hayley handed us our coats.
As I bundled up Chris, Hayley looked down at Sammie then back at me.
“You can bring her back to visit the kitten.” Her face grew wistful. “You can come often.”
That’s when I realized Hayley was lonely. I felt bad for her. Although I do believe money can make life easier, it can’t take the place of people.
As I put the children in the car, a black BMW streaked up the driveway, pulling around the side of the house. I assumed that was Leighton, and my hunch was confirmed when the man I recognized from the picture on Hayley’s mantel walked back around the house.
I waved, and he approached me.
“Hello,” he said. “I assume you’re Trish Cunningham. Hayley said you were coming this afternoon.”
“Yes.” I offered him my hand, and he shook it. Leighton Whitmore’s photo hadn’t done him justice.
He was as tall as Max and good-looking in a way that age doesn’t impact. A mere photograph could never reveal the full extent of his charisma. Especially when he smiled like he was doing now.
“Angelica and Andrew have told us all about you, and your husband speaks highly of you.”
I smiled even as I wondered when Leighton had met Max. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“And you, as well,” he said. He bent down and spoke to the children. We exchanged a few more pleasantries, then he disappeared inside.
As I pulled down the driveway, I wondered if they were truly happy. Hayley didn’t seem to be. I had a fleeting thought that perhaps Angelica recognized Hayley’s loneliness, and that was the reason she invited Hayley to do things. Then I dismissed it. Angelica would never be that sensitive.
I called Abbie as soon as I got home. I was eager to ask her if she’d heard Philip was in town, but she couldn’t talk. She was on the phone with Eric, who was out of town. I didn’t want to interrupt their conversation with a topic like her ex-husband. Philip’s presence could wait.
I answered some e-mails, including one from Tommy, and another from Eric’s daughter, Sherry, who was Tommy’s girlfriend—a relationship that had continued after both of them graduated from high school.
Tommy was doing well at college. He’d had a last-minute change of majors and was studying criminal justice, much to Max’s parents’ dismay. They wanted him to be a lawyer.
That reminded me of Angelica’s opinion about Sammie. I needed Max to assure me that he didn’t really think Sammie had a dark future as a klepto criminal in some prison cell, but he was ensconced in his study.
I glanced at my watch. I realized it was late, and I didn’t have time to make dinner. I ordered pizza instead, ignoring the tug of guilt I felt for not planning ahead. While I waited for it to be delivered, I paced the house, feeling vaguely restless. Not that I didn’t have a lot to do. I had bookkeeping to do for Max. A house to keep. I also had the never-ending piles of laundry. I even had a stack of books from the library, but I wasn’t interested in any of them. Frankly, I was just bored.
Most of the women I knew at church were content to be at home or at least wished they could be home. Knowing that piled more guilt on my head, because I wasn’t content. That made me a failure in my eyes. Aren’t all women supposed to adore taking care of their families full-time?
I wandered back into the kitchen. Sammie had tossed her coat on the back of a chair. I picked it up, ready to hang it on a peg next to the back door, but I felt something hard in the pocket. I reached inside and pulled out a squashed, unopened pack of gum and a rock that looked very similar to the rocks in Hayley’s flower beds. The package of gum looked like it had been run over by a truck and probably came from the parking lot at the Gas ’n’ Go. At least it wasn’t used, but it still grossed me out, and I tossed it in the trash. Then I balanced the rock in my palm.
A rock is no big deal, I told myself. Kids always pick up stuff like rocks. But a little voice in the back of my head asked me if maybe Angelica was right. And worse, it told me if I were a better mother and more content maybe Sammie wouldn’t have kleptomaniacal tendencies.
“Mom!” Charlie yelled from the family room. “I can’t hear Mike over Chris.” My middle son spent hours each day on his cell phone with his best friend, Mike. Anyone who says males don’t talk as much as females is seriously unobservant. It’s just the topics that differ.
I realized my youngest son had been noisy for a while. I’d tuned him out because the sounds were the whiny kind of talking he did for self-entertainment and not because he was in need or wanted attention. I could tell the difference, so I had learned to ignore the noise. Not everyone in the family had the same ability.
I went into the family room, scooped Chris out of his activity center, and carried him with me to the kitchen, where I stuck him in a high chair and covered his round cheeks with kisses. He beamed at me. Something crunched under my feet as I walked to the counter, but I ignored it, not wanting to be reminded of my housekeeping failures. As I cut up a banana for him, I heard the soft padding of bare feet behind me. I turned and saw Max.
“Hey, I really need to talk to you,” I said.
“Dadadadadadadada,” Chris said, holding out his arms.
Max took Chris’s hands in his and blew on them, making whooshing sounds. Chris chortled. Then Max looked at me. “I heard the little guy yakking. I have a feeling he’s always going to be vocal.”
I smiled. “Probably.”
Max came over and snaked his arms around my waist, and I leaned back against him.
Then I felt him shift back and forth. “What’s on the floor?”
We both looked down. Me with dread, thinking it had to be Cheerios or something the kids had dropped.
“Is that. . .gravel?” he asked, wiggling his toes.
“No-o-o.” I reached down and scooped up a familiar substance. “It’s kitty litter. Must have been stuck in my shoes. I have new trainers, and they have deep treads.”
While I swept up the pieces of litter, I told him about buying supplies from Adler’s Pet Emporium and the hole in the litter bag. Then about our visit to Hayley’s house.
“Mother told me you decided Sammie could have the cat.” He kissed the top of my head. “Thank you.”
I pulled myself from his grasp and turned around. “Do you mean you were worried I would say no?”
“Not worried,” he said. “Just hoping you would do it for. . .well, for my mother. . .and Sammie.”
“To avoid conflict and hard feelings, you mean?”
“Something like that.” He pushed a piece of hair away from my face.
“Well, I’m struggling with hard feelings today.” I crossed my arms. “Did you tell your mother that Sammie was stealing?”
The drop of his jaw told me all I needed to know. “That’s what I thought,” I said. “I just needed to know for sure.”
“I can’t remember exactly what I did say, but whatever it was, that wasn’t anywhere near the word I used. I can’t imagine where she got the idea.”
“She called it kleptomania and said she’s found a really good psychiatrist for Sammie.”
Max shook his head. “I’ll talk to her.”
“And your mother isn’t the only one who’s taking over. My mother talked to a real estate agent for us. Linda Faye King. Remember the emergency room nurse? She’s into real estate now.”
“What?” He raised his eyebrows. “Have we decided to move?”
I shrugged. “Not that I know of, but everybody is making decisions for me. My mother. Your mother. As usual. So I just go along with it all.”
He smiled. “You pretend to go along with it and then just quietly do what you want to do.”
I considered that and frowned. “That’s a bit passive- aggressive, isn’t it?”
He laughed. “No. Not in you. You just avo
id making scenes, which is a good thing, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Oh. Okay.” I stared up into his green eyes. “I had a fleeting thought today about living out near your parents.” Surprise lit his face, making his eyes greener. “Really?”
“The cat breeder lives out there. Hayley Whitmore. Her house is too huge for my taste, but I liked the deck and the pool.”
“Whitmore? Leighton and Hayley?”
“Yep,” I said. “And Leighton said you know him.”
“I’ve met him through my father.” A quick frown wrinkled Max’s forehead, and then it slipped away. “Anyway, you liked their house?”
“Not their house. It was way too pretentious. Like Tara from Gone with the Wind. But I just thought about you and how happy you’d be out there and. . .”
He kissed me soundly on the lips, and I felt it down to my toes. When he was done, he stepped back and smiled while I pulled myself together. He knows what he does to me.
“So we can, um, talk about it,” I finally said when my heart slowed.
“We don’t have to decide right now,” he said.
I heard the back door open, and Karen, my stepdaughter, rushed into the kitchen from work, her long hair swinging in her face.
“Caaaaaaaa,” Chris squealed.
“Hey, Dad. Mom.” Karen planted a kiss on Chris’ head, dropped a bag of pretzels on the table, and reached for the refrigerator door. After a quick look inside the fridge, she slammed the door. “What’s for dinner?”
“Pizza,” I said.
“Pizza again?” She screwed her pretty face into a frown. Even my kids were heaping burning coals of guilt on my head.
“Yes, again.” I tried not to snap, and I also avoided Max’s eyes in case he felt the same way Karen did.
Charlie exploded into the kitchen from the other direction, clinging to his cell phone and just missing ramming into Karen.
“Watch it, moron,” she said.
Charlie stuck his tongue out at her.
“Stop now, you two, before you get started,” Max warned.
She rolled her eyes. Charlie grinned and turned to me and Max, waving his phone in our faces.
“Mike’s brother got caught today with drugs. He’s in big trouble. It’s called estisee.”
“Ecstasy,” Karen said. “And he’s a moron, too. I see him at the mall all the time.”
“Karen. . .” Max met her gaze, and she tightened her lips into a thin line.
“He’s in such big trouble,” Charlie said. “Grounded for life.” He bounced out of the kitchen.
I was glad that Mike’s parents were taking a hard stand.
“Dadadadada,” Chris intoned from his high chair.
“I see him at the mall with a group of kids he goes to junior college with. At least there will be one less idiot loose in the mall.” Karen sniffed. Max cleared his throat, and she tossed her hair. “You gotta admit it’s stupid.”
Well, we couldn’t really argue with her point. And with that proclamation, she asked me to call her when the pizza arrived, mumbled about tons of homework, and disappeared down the hall.
I had to admit I was jealous. Karen had a life. She got out of the house.
I wrapped my arms around Max. “Honey, I think I want to go back to work part-time. Outside the house.”
He blinked in surprise. “Where? Back at Self-Storage?”
“No.” I looked up at him. “Shirl’s doing fine managing everything. I need something else.”
His expression was wistful. “I kind of thought you were happy at home.”
Sometimes men are clueless. They see only what they want to see. Max liked me being home. He’s old-fashioned that way. His mother was always home when he was young. Not that she was the typical suburban housewife type—well, she was typical for her social class. That meant lunch at the club after a nice game of tennis. She had no money worries, so she could do that. But she was “home.”
I had no money worries, either. If I wanted to, I could go enjoy a nice game of tennis with my mother-in-law, but I don’t like tennis.
“I’m happy enough, but I miss the social interaction. I miss the regimentation. I miss having a purpose.”
“Taking care of our home and kids isn’t purpose enough?” he asked.
“Would it be for you?” I thought I had him there.
“Chris is getting on your nerves, isn’t he? It’s the teething thing.”
Max wasn’t getting it. Or he didn’t want to.
“No. I just ignore Chris’s grumpiness. That’s not it. I just want to get out.” I took a deep breath. “I had a really good thought. How about I work for your company?”
He stepped back, surprise lighting his eyes again. “You mean, work for Cunningham and Son?”
“Well, your dad is semiretired. Seems to me you could use a partner.”
Max blinked like a toad in a hailstorm.
“What’s wrong?” I frowned at him. “You wouldn’t want to work with me? You worked with me at Storage part-time. I do bookkeeping work for you here at home. You don’t think I could do it?”
“Well, it’s not that, exactly. . . .” He started to back away from me.
“You’re afraid of what your parents will think?”
“No. . . .”
I planted my fists on my hips. “Is it because I didn’t go to Harvard?”
“Um, no. . . .”
“Well, what is it, then?” “I’m not sure—”
The doorbell rang. The pizza had arrived.
“I’ll go get that,” Max said and quickly left the room.
“Fine,” I grumbled, my feelings hurt. I thought maybe he’d go with my idea. Especially after I held out the olive branch of living near his parents.
Chapter Three
On Tuesday afternoon, I prepared to meet Abbie and my mother at the church hall. Abbie was supposed to get there earlier than us to fiddle with the decorations she was going to use. As I passed through my kitchen on the way to the garage, the yellow walls glowed, and I felt just as radiant. Max had come home early so he could watch the little kids for me while I was gone. But he’d come home before the time we’d discussed and managed to sidetrack me. Not that he has to work hard to sidetrack me. But as a result, I had totally forgiven him of his insensitivity the night before and even felt hopeful. I figured I’d attack Max’s doubts about me working at Cunningham and Son like water wearing away a rock. Slowly and over a period of time.
I was leaving a bit early in hopes of getting a chance to talk to Abbie at the fellowship hall before my mother got there. I tried to reach her by phone to tell her, but when I got her voice mail, I left a message confirming that Ma and I would see her shortly. I wanted to tell her about Philip.
I saw a sign for the Gas ’n’ Go, which happens to be near the church hall. My mouth watered. Funny how addiction affects the body. I pulled into the parking lot and the debate began. Must have Mountain Dew, one voice in my head whispered. Just say no, another retorted. I sighed.
Then in my rearview mirror, I saw a WWPS truck whiz by. That reminded me of Doris’s Doughnuts and my mother. . .her constant nagging and how tired I got of people telling me what to do, including the voices in my head.
I ordered them to be quiet, grabbed my official I Get My Get-Up-’n’-Go from Gas ’n’ Go plastic refillable cup, and climbed from my SUV. Inside, I nodded at Pat, the clerk, and headed straight for the soda machine, half expecting to see a little good imp and a little bad imp sitting on the counter, ready to continue the argument.
Armed with my drink, I went back outside. I was climbing into my SUV when I heard the sound of a car window sliding down. Then someone called my name.
I turned and saw Linda Faye King in a tiny hybrid car parked right next to me. She looked totally put together in nicely cut brown slacks and a silky gold sweater. She tossed a leather briefcase on top of a jacket on the passenger seat.
“Hey,” I said.
“I’m glad I caught you
.” She sounded a bit breathless. “I’m supposed to meet your mother at the reception hall, but I just got a call. I have to meet a real estate client. I drove by the church, but your mother wasn’t there. She’s not answering her cell phone, either. Can you tell her for me?”
“Yep. No problem.” I took a sip of my drink. So good. Unfortunately, the word that came to mind was ecstasy.
“Oh.” Linda reached into her purse and pulled out a gold business card holder with her red-tipped fingers. “You and I need to get together and discuss what you’re looking for in a house. I have several listings now that might suit you.” She handed me the card. “You can reach me at these numbers.” A diamond tennis bracelet dangled from her wrist.
I wondered if the bracelet was a gift. It didn’t look like the purchase of a newly minted real estate agent who needed a part-time job. “Okay,” I said, even though I had no intention of following through. At least not right now.
We said our good-byes. Linda headed off in one direction, and I headed in the other toward the church hall. This wooded countryside wasn’t developed. I saw For Sale signs along the road that I hadn’t paid attention to before. Linda’s name was on the bottom of each of them.
I pulled into the parking lot in front of the church fellowship hall. Ma and Abbie both attended this church. The congregation had recently bought this property and put up the building. Plans were in the works for a sanctuary to follow in the spring. But for now, the members used the multipurpose building for their worship services as well as social events, prayer meetings, and other group activities.
Backed up against the woods, the soft peach brick of the building glowed in the afternoon sun. Abbie wasn’t there. I glanced at my watch and wondered where she was.
I rubbed my arms, feeling a tingle of excitement. My best friend since I was little was getting married. My matron of honor dress hung in my closet, and I couldn’t wait to wear it. I’d been Abbie’s maid of honor when she married Philip, but this time was different. This time I liked her husband-to-be, Eric Scott. I’d started to get to know him right after I found the body of Jim Bob Jenkins in the milk case of our local grocery store. Eric had been the lead detective in the murder investigation.
Kitty Litter Killer Page 4
