Kitty Litter Killer

by Candice Speare Prentice

  Something of that magnitude certainly could lead to hostility. My mind immediately flitted to Jaylene’s daughter, Peggy. I had a vague memory of her leaving town and returning later on, married and with a baby. The child we saw her with at the corn maze looked to be the right age.

  I looked at Mary. “I assume Abbie doesn’t know this. She never said anything. I think she should know. It would be horrible if it came out in the investigation.” I had no idea how news like this would impact my friend.

  Mary frowned, and I hastened to make my case.

  “Think about how humiliating it would be for her to find out from Detective Reid.”

  Mary’s eyes flashed at the mention of Detective Reid’s name. “That woman! Okay. I agree with you. In fact, I could see Detective Reid uncovering that and using it to try to make Abbie confess something.” She paused for just a heartbeat. “And if you have to, tell Eric. It might help the investigation. I’ll tell my mother as soon as possible.” Mary smiled sadly. “With Philip dead, it’s just me, and I’m not particularly the marrying kind. I know Mom would love to know she had a grandchild, but what if the woman’s family doesn’t want my mother involved at all? The possible complications are too much to think about right now.”

  I agreed, and I didn’t want June hurt more, either. Still, she had a core of strength I wasn’t sure Mary saw. Perhaps living with her mother would help Mary see her mother more clearly.

  “You said you had two ideas. Do you know anything else that might help?” I asked. “Do you think there’s a possibility that Philip’s murder had anything to do with work? Like a case he was investigating?”

  Mary shook her head. “I can’t answer that. The last job he’d had was in narcotics, but he’d been out of work for almost six months. Would it take that long for something to catch up with him?”

  Probably not. “Is there anything else you can think of that was bothering him?”

  “Yeah.” She grimaced. “Me. Well, I mean, what had happened to me. I lost money in a real estate scam. It was quite the scandal. I couldn’t believe I’d been sucked in. Two men were jailed, but the ones at the top got away scot-free. Philip wanted to fix that for me before he died. Get my money back.”

  My mind veered right to Leighton Whitmore. He was into real estate. He had been in Atlanta—presumably to get married. But he was from New York.

  I met Mary’s gaze. “Those are two really powerful motivations for murder.”

  After Mary left, I immediately called Nick Fletcher and told him everything she’d told me about Philip’s daughter and added my suspicions about the Adlers. Finally, I reiterated my misgivings about Leighton Whitmore. I told him about the real estate scam in Atlanta. He didn’t say much, but I could tell he was listening.

  “And worst of all,” I said, “I don’t know what to do about Abbie. This daughter of Philip’s could push her over the edge.”

  “Tell Eric, Mrs. C.,” he said. “Let him tell her.”

  The idea was perfect. I would find a time to talk to Eric tonight at dinner. And Nick Fletcher sounded more upbeat than he had the last few times we’d talked, so when we finally hung up, I felt encouraged.

  After that, Max and I got the kids ready and we headed to my folks’ house. Karen had gone to visit a friend, so we just had the three youngest. We hadn’t found the time to discuss my visit with Mary.

  “You’re quiet,” Max said as we drove.

  I didn’t want to say much in front of Charlie and Sammie. I motioned with my eyes toward the backseat.

  He nodded and reached for my hand.

  I took his and squeezed. “Max, I’ve been thinking recently about how selfish I am. I think if I were facing the end of my life, I wouldn’t want to frantically try to make things right with people.”

  “Oh?” Max asked.

  “I have a couple of things I need to do now. And I need to start with your mother.”

  His surprise was obvious by his upraised brows. “My mother?”

  “Yes.” I glanced at the backseat. “I’ll tell you more later. Just know that things are going to change for the better. At least on my side.”

  “Really?” The tiny smile on his face cut me to the core. I suddenly realized how hard my hostility had been on him, despite his humor and understanding.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

  When we got to the farm, I asked him to wait after the kids hopped from the car. Max reached to get Chris from his car seat, and briefly I told him what Mary had said.

  “Whew!” he said. “Things just seem to keep getting worse. Are you going to tell Abbie?”

  I fingered my coat zipper. “I’m going to let Eric do it. But first, I need to talk to Ma about the Adlers without telling her why I’m asking.”

  Getting my mother to talk about Jaylene and Henry wasn’t hard. Ma was angry that Jaylene wasn’t speaking to her and she confirmed that Jaylene’s daughter, Peggy, had a child out of wedlock. Nine years ago. No one ever knew who the father was. Everyone assumed it was one of two boys she was dating at the time. Jaylene and Henry had sent Peggy to a private school that allowed her to raise her daughter and graduate at the same time. Despite the fact that unwed mothers were relatively common at the time, Jaylene and Henry wanted to avoid the stigma Peggy would have lived under in Four Oaks.

  We sat down to eat shortly after Abbie and Eric arrived. Dinner was subdued, despite the chattering of the children and Chris’s constant babbling. Ma kept offering everyone food. Max and Eric tried valiantly to keep the conversation flowing. I made an effort to eat, even though I felt sick to my stomach holding the secrets Mary had spilled to me.

  Charlie kept eyeing Eric. Finally, he put his fork down. “Uncle Eric, Mike says his brother might have to go to juvie jail.”

  Eric met Charlie’s gaze. “Really?” Sammie squirmed in her chair.

  “Yup. Drugs.” Charlie looked at me. “What was it called?”

  “Ecstasy,” I said, staring at the Mountain Dew in my glass.

  “Big problem right now,” Eric said. “Especially with the under-twenty-five crowd.”

  “I read about that in the paper,” Max said. “How they hide tablets in candy and—”

  “Aunt Abbie, are you going to jail?” Sammie blurted out.

  Ma gasped. Abbie blanched.

  “No, she’s not,” I snapped. “We told you that already.”

  “But—”

  Eric smiled, but it was strained. “We aren’t going to let your aunt Abbie go to jail, honey. People go to jail when they do very bad things. Aunt Abbie didn’t do anything bad.”

  “Mom won’t let her go to jail, either,” Charlie said. “She’s investigating. Things will be fine.”

  “Mommy is good at that,” Sammie said.

  My children were my biggest supporters. Unlike Eric Scott. I picked at my nails to avoid his eyes.

  “Well, I should say so.” Ma waved her fork to emphasize her words. “I don’t want to be critical of the police, Eric, but I don’t understand how that Detective Reid person can begin to solve the crime if she’s focused on only one person. We all know it isn’t Abbie. Right, Simon?”

  “Yes, we know Abbie isn’t guilty,” Daddy said. “But we don’t know for sure who the police are looking at.”

  “Well we do know they’re looking at Abbie,” Ma huffed.

  This conversation wasn’t making things better. I glanced at my friend, who was studiously avoiding everyone’s eyes.

  Daddy had been quiet most of the meal. He kept glancing surreptitiously at Abbie, and I knew he felt guilty about the gun, even though it wasn’t his fault.

  My mother launched into a discussion about Daddy’s search for a new dog. A friend of a friend had a litter of border collies. Then Sammie began jabbering about her new kitten.

  With the change of topic, Abbie relaxed. When dinner was about over, she took Eric’s hand and looked at my father.

  “Simon,” she said.

  He blinked and looked at her
.

  “I. . .we. . .have something to ask you.”

  Daddy clenched his jaw.

  “If things work out—”

  “When things work out,” Eric corrected.

  Abbie swallowed. “When things work out, we want to know if you’ll walk me down the aisle. Since I don’t have a father to ask and you’ve been like a dad to me.”

  Daddy’s mouth opened and shut like a goldfish. Then a big tear rolled down his cheek.

  “Yes,” he said.

  Ma’s grin couldn’t have been bigger.

  After dinner, Abbie was helping Ma clear the table. I pulled Eric into the hallway near the stairs under the pretense of a secret wedding surprise for Abbie.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I talked to Philip’s sister today,” I said. “I have something to tell you. Well, Corporal Fletcher suggested I tell you. He said you’d be the best one to tell Abbie.”

  Eric’s expression was like that of a man who had been hit too many times. “Okay. Go on.”

  I told him in as few words as possible about Philip’s confession and his child.

  “Oh, man.” He rubbed his face with his hand. “Can things get worse?”

  “Yes, they can,” I said. “Abbie can go to jail.”

  I glanced at the door to the kitchen through which we could hear the low murmurs of Ma’s and Abbie’s voices. “I’m worried that Detective Reid will find out and try to use it somehow against her. And I think Henry and Jaylene Adler’s grandchild is Philip’s daughter.”

  He reached out and tapped his finger on the banister. Then he looked at me. “I can’t speculate with you.”

  “I know.” I had to be satisfied with that answer.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next morning, I woke to the phone ringing. I snatched it from the bedside table and held it to my ear. But I didn’t need to in order to hear my mother. She was yelling.

  “Jaylene just called me. She says Henry was taken in by the state police for hours yesterday evening, thanks to you.”

  “Why does she think it’s because of me?”

  “Of course it’s because of you,” Ma said. “You’re investigating.”

  My mother probably told Jaylene it was because of me.

  “At least they’re looking at someone else and not just Abbie,” I said.

  “She’s also threatening to sue you and us,” Ma said.

  That’s just what I needed. Something else to worry about.

  “She said we would pay one way or another.”

  Apprehension wiggled on the back of my neck. “Did she say it like that?” I asked.

  Ma hesitated. “Well, not exactly, but that was the gist of it.”

  “All right. I’ve gotta go. The kids will be getting up soon.”

  I hung up then turned to Max, who was lying next to me with his arms behind his head. “Your mother,” he stated. “I heard her voice through the receiver.”

  “Hard to miss.” I lay on my side, head cradled in my hand.

  “So what’s up?”

  I relayed the context of the conversation.

  His face tightened. “Maybe I should talk to one of my friends, have someone go by the Adlers’ store. These threats are going to stop right now.”

  I stared at Max in admiration. As long as I didn’t have to personally deal with his lawyer friends and he wasn’t getting bossy with me, I loved it when he took control.

  He rolled on his side and ran his hand down my arm. “I have some good news for you. I think it will make you happy.” He touched the tip of my nose with his index finger. “I was going to wait until Abbie’s situation cleared up, but this might be a good distraction for you.”

  “I’m not sure I need a distraction,” I said. “I need to solve this murder.”

  “Yes, but maybe giving it a rest will allow your brain a chance to regroup, so to speak, maybe see things in a different way.”

  “What is it?”

  “A job,” he said.

  I jerked my gaze to meet his. “A job? At Cunningham and Son?”

  “Yes and no.” He grinned. “We’re about to put up the trailer at the construction site for the new housing development. Someone needs to run the office.”

  I sat up and felt a quiver of excitement in my stomach. “That’s perfect. It uses all my skills.”

  He leaned back against the headboard. “Yes, I know. And, honey, I want you to know you have my blessing whether you decide to go full-time or part-time. Hire someone else to help you if you need to.”

  “It sounds wonderful,” I murmured, and tears started to burn in my eyes.

  “You can go out there today, if you’d like. Start to figure out what you need in terms of equipment and things.” He frowned. “Baby?”

  I buried my head in his shoulder and the tears flowed.

  “Hey,” he said, stroking my back. “Aren’t you happy?”

  “Yes,” I mumbled into his shoulder. “You’re so sweet. And I’m so blessed. But then I think about Abbie and everything, and I feel bad for being happy about anything.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tight to his warm, muscular chest. “I understand.”

  A bit later, I was pulling on my slippers and Max was getting ready to take a shower.

  “I’m going to the construction site today. I think you’re right. A break will help.” Despite everything I’d learned, I was beginning to think I would never solve this crime. I just hoped everything I’d told Corporal Fletcher would aid the investigation.

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Max said.

  “Sam gets her kitten on Tuesday afternoon.”

  He smiled. “I know. That’s all she’s been talking about.” He headed for the bathroom.

  I grabbed my bathrobe from a chair. “Honey, do you think Leighton Whitmore killed Philip?”

  “I don’t see how. Since they’re moving and we aren’t considering hiring him, I haven’t done any more checking into his background, but if I were a betting guy, my money would be on Henry Adler.”

  Mine, too. And that was my biggest problem. I didn’t want it to be Henry.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I woke on Tuesday feeling a bit more refreshed than I had in a while. I’d spent all the previous day at the construction job site trailer, figuring out how I was going to set up my new office. After breakfast, while Chris kept up a running monologue of baby chatter, I reviewed all my clues, hoping I’d see things more clearly. Unfortunately, the break hadn’t helped my investigation at all. I was no closer to figuring out who killed Philip than I had been two days previous. I was panicked that Abbie would end up in jail.

  Midafternoon, I’d dropped Chris off at the sitters and headed to Sammie’s school to pick her up. She didn’t need her younger brother there, distracting her grandmother or making a bunch of racket while she got her kitten. Today I wanted all the attention to be on her.

  We were running early for once and decided to make a pit stop at the Gas ’n’ Go. I was once again in an inner struggle, salivating for a Mountain Dew. I vowed to break my habit—but not today. Inside the store, I overheard three teens in line ahead of me order hot dogs. That sounded so good that I ordered hot dogs for me and Sammie.

  While we waited for Pat, the clerk, to fix them, I got my Mountain Dew and some juice for Sammie, then we went to the rack of chips. I waited for her to pick out the one she wanted. Through the front window of the store, I saw Clark pull his blue WWPS truck into a space next to my SUV.

  Sammie tugged on my arm. “Mommy, I want these.” I glanced down at the bag of Doritos she held. “Okay, that’s fine.” I grabbed one for myself.

  Our food was ready by the time we got back to the counter. The teens had already paid for theirs and were headed out the door. A rack holding the latest weekly edition of our local paper was next to the counter. The headline was Philip’s death. It was now officially a murder investigation, surprise, surprise. Abbie’s picture was featured in the ar
ticle, next to a picture of Philip. I felt sick and glanced away to calm myself. Clark was on the sidewalk, holding a box and talking to the kids.

  “He’s really built, isn’t he?” Pat said as she rang up my order.

  I swiveled my head to look at her. “What?”

  “That WWPS delivery guy.” She grinned like a wolf. “This is my daily eye candy break. He comes in every day at this time to get a drink and a snack.”

  “Oh.” That was one way to put it. But I couldn’t have cared less about Clark. Like a magnet, my attention was drawn back to the article. I finally picked up the paper and slapped it on the counter. “Add this, please.”

  Pat looked down at it and shook her head. “Isn’t that tragic? Seems they’re about to arrest that guy’s ex-wife. And her being an author and all.”

  Whatever being an author had to do with anything.

  Pat leaned toward me and pointed at Philip’s picture in the paper. “You know this Philip guy? He was in here. With her.” Pat jabbed at Abbie’s picture. “Cops asked me about that. Fact, he and Eye Candy talked once, too.”

  Clark and Philip had talked? As she continued to chat, I paid for my purchases, took the bag, and handed the paper to Sammie to carry. Then I headed for the car.

  The teens had left, and Clark was standing next to his truck. He seemed to be waiting for us. “I wanted to thank you for taking that autograph to my mother.”

  “She’s very proud of you,” I said. “Told me you were taking classes and helping kids at the Y.”

  “Charlie goes to the Y,” Sammie said. “His friend’s brother was arrested.”

  Clark glanced down at her then looked up at me.

  “Sammie, honey, I don’t think Mr. Clark cares about all of that.” I smiled at him.

  “Charlie is your son, right? I’ve heard your mother talking about him.”

  “Yes,” I said. I wished my mother would zip her big mouth.