Not a Creature Was Purring

by Krista Davis

  “Oma will probably go. I may need to mind the inn.”

  Dave studied me. “It can’t be fun for you to see Holmes with another woman. But I think he would appreciate your presence. And so would I.”

  I felt like I was twelve again and talking about boys. “What? How do you know that?”

  Dave massaged his forehead. “If I were Holmes, I know I’d feel better if you were at the party. But all that aside, can you go to the party for me? I’ll drop in for a few minutes, but people won’t speak openly if they know I’m there.”

  “You want me to spy?” I giggled at the thought.

  “Hey, someone in this town committed a brutal murder. I hope his or her animosity doesn’t extend beyond Dale, but I don’t know that it doesn’t. I’d like to get a lead on this as soon as I can.”

  I wasn’t giggling anymore. “Sure. I hadn’t thought about it that way. I’ve been having fun with all those adorable, excited children and cute dogs and cats. Meanwhile the killer could have been standing among them.”

  “I certainly hope not.”

  I promised to phone him with an update, collected Twinkletoes, called Trixie, and walked back to the inn. Twinkletoes had been a trooper, but she seemed very happy about it when we were back in the lobby and I removed the hat from her head.

  It was always quiet at the inn in the late afternoon and early evening because we didn’t serve dinner. Oma thought people should go out to patronize the restaurants. Happily, the crowds were gone.

  Oma’s high heels and Gingersnap’s claws clicked on the floor as they approached.

  Oma wore black velvet trousers with a matching top that was beaded and burned out, creating a semi-transparent lace design in the fabric at the neckline. Gingersnap’s collar matched Oma’s outfit. The black velvet stood out against her golden red fur.

  “Don’t you look elegant!”

  “You are coming tonight, ja? Rose and Holmes would be offended if you did not attend.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Who’s watching the inn?”

  “Casey. And please wear the red dress.”

  Oh no. I loved that dress, but plain black would probably be better for fading into the background. Not just to listen in and spy, but so I wouldn’t look like I was trying to compete with Norma Jeanne.

  My reaction must have shown on my face, because Oma said, “You know she will dress in something very fancy.”

  “That’s exactly why I don’t want to.”

  “Liebling, the time to win Holmes over is before he marries. This may be your last chance. Don’t squander it.”

  I felt a little rotten about the fact that everyone knew I was crazy for Holmes. They were all feeling sorry for me. I didn’t care for that one bit.

  Down the hallway, the elevator doors opened and Doris stepped out. Her cane tapped along the floor as she walked toward us, with Muffy racing ahead to greet Trixie.

  Muffy wore what I assumed was a Thackleberry dress. It was black with flouncing ruffles. On the back, written in rhinestones, was Santa, is it too late to be good?

  “Holly,” whispered Oma, “Doris would like to speak with us. Do you have a few minutes before you change clothes?”

  “Sure.” I was in no hurry to get to a party celebrating Holmes’s impending marriage.

  Oma led us to the kitchen where Doris, the Thackleberry matriarch, took a seat in a big armchair and rested her feet on the fireplace hearth.

  Oma claimed the other big armchair, and I pulled up a chair.

  “Thank you for meeting with me.” Doris gripped her walking stick as though it gave her a sense of security. “I need your help.”

  Doris turned teary eyes toward me. “Holmes says you have uncovered the identity of a few murderers.”

  Uh-oh. I knew what was coming. “I just got lucky.”

  “This shouldn’t be too difficult,” she said. “I’m very sorry to say that the suspects are limited to members of my family. If I were younger, I would do the snooping myself. But these days I can’t keep up with them.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Worst of all, I’m afraid I could be next.”

  Doris swallowed hard. Her hands shook a tiny bit. “Initially, I was convinced that Vivienne murdered Dale.” She paused and dabbed her nose with a handkerchief. “He was a wonderful son. Always so thoughtful toward my husband and me. But more than that, and I don’t just say this as his mother, Dale was the most kind and giving person I have ever known. Always looking out for other people. Always trying to make life better for everyone in his family, and even total strangers. His first wife, Norma Jeanne, embraced his giving nature.”

  I thought she might have misspoken.

  “Norma Jeanne?” asked Oma gently.

  Doris glanced at her. “I haven’t lost my marbles yet. In her family, it was a tradition to name the first daughter after her maternal grandmother. A lovely gesture. That’s why EmmyLou has such a Southern name. Her maternal grandmother came from Texas. After his wife’s death, I suppose Dale was lonely. EmmyLou was an adult, and the house was empty. He married again, briefly, but it didn’t work out. Then he made the mistake of marrying that shrew, Vivienne. To Dale’s credit, he tried to make the marriage work. For far too long, if you ask me. It was something of a shock to him after his loving first wife. The second wife was tolerable until she began catting around. I don’t think he was prepared to deal with the likes of Vivienne. Oh my, how he tried to make her happy. But as far as I can tell, her discontent and constant vexation with everyone and everything is ingrained in her. She never even tried to overcome it. Dale asked her to seek counseling, but she refused, claiming nothing was wrong with her. She has lived her life thinking only of herself, never giving the tiniest bit of consideration to anyone else. She is a user of people. You know the kind? She takes what she can from them, and when she no longer has any use for them, it’s as though they no longer exist.”

  “It must be hard for all of you to have a family member like that,” said Oma.

  “I often wished Vivienne would just stay home and let the rest of us enjoy ourselves. But I think it bothered her to imagine that we might have fun without her. Of course, it backfired, because we avoided family gatherings. I had to meet my own son secretly so she wouldn’t come along. She wanted to micromanage everything we did. We didn’t have anything to hide, but she was always unpleasant. I’m not surprised that he sought comfort in the arms of another woman.”

  “But you have changed your mind?” I asked. “You no longer think Vivienne murdered Dale?”

  “I don’t know. There are other family members who worry me as well. When Dale was born, his father and I worked long days and every weekend to build our business. Our success led to a good life. We could afford luxuries. We had the money to pay for Dale’s education, and, of course, he had a job at Thackleberry the minute he graduated. Some things in life came easy for him, but he never took them for granted. He always tried to help other people get a leg up in life. EmmyLou was raised the same way. She is generous and giving to a fault. But the fourth generation worries me.”

  She stopped speaking.

  “Norma Jeanne, Tiffany, and Blake?” I asked.

  “They appear to have grown up in a bubble. It’s as though they have no concept of anything outside of their own lives. I don’t understand it, really. I suggested to Dale that it could be the result of having everything given to them as soon as they thought of it. It breaks my heart.”

  She heaved a great sigh before continuing. “Dale was quite disturbed by their attitude. Cars, condos, trips, they expected it all.” She paused. “Blake has dropped out of medical school. Dale was paying his tuition and found out quite by accident. I don’t think Blake’s parents even know yet. That boy—” her mouth bunched up in anger “—he’s a man, not a child anymore, was pocketing his tuition money and living a life of leisure. What kind of person does tha
t? It’s not normal for a young man to be lazy like that. He should have dreams and goals. If that’s not a sign of being overindulged, then I don’t know what is. Did he think we would never notice that he didn’t finish school? Or did he plan to come home and play doctor on the social circuit without any credentials? I have no idea, but that young man makes me very angry. He’s able-bodied and intelligent. There’s no reason on this green earth for him to lounge around at his grandfather’s expense.”

  “Dale mentioned it to me,” I said. “Not the details, but he told me he was going to cut Blake off. You think Blake might have killed him because of that?”

  “It’s possible.” She clutched her hand to her chest. “You can’t imagine how terrible I feel about suspecting members of our family. It’s the last thing in the world I ever expected. But I’m terribly afraid that one of them killed my boy. My sweet Dale.”

  Oma looked at me and raised her eyebrows.

  How did I get into these messes? I gazed down at Trixie, who appeared so innocent and unconcerned. It was her nose that had landed me in this position. What could I say? I had already agreed to snoop for Dave anyway.

  Doris Thackleberry gazed at me. I wished I couldn’t see the fear in her eyes.

  Nineteen

  Poor Doris was scared for her own life. Who could blame her? She was frail and elderly, and couldn’t walk without her cane. It would be too easy for an unscrupulous person to make her death look like an accident. What if it were my Oma who was afraid someone wanted to kill her?

  “I don’t know that I can do much, Mrs. Thackleberry, but I’ll try on one condition.”

  Her expression brightened, but she remained cautious. “A bargain?”

  “You have to tell Officer Dave that you’re afraid.” He needed to know. What with investigating Dale’s murder, I had no idea how he could manage to protect Doris, but that was his job. It was up to him.

  Oma smiled at Doris. “That’s actually a very good idea. You should definitely do that.”

  Doris nodded. “It’s a deal.”

  Oma added, “This should remain private between the three of us and Dave. We don’t want to trigger any aberrant behavior.”

  The two of them seemed relieved, which I found distressing. Doris had to be very careful. Just discussing the matter didn’t mean it had been resolved.

  Oma checked her watch. “You better hurry and dress, Holly.”

  “You two go ahead. Don’t wait for me.” I started for the back stairs that led to my apartment.

  “Holly!” called Oma. “Don’t chicken out!”

  I might have if Dave hadn’t mentioned the importance of gathering information and if Doris wasn’t afraid. The truth was that Dale’s death would surely be discussed in hushed circles at the party. Maybe I could pick up on something.

  In my apartment, I hung up my elf outfit and donned the big, fluffy Sugar Maple Inn robe. Trixie looked up at me. “I know. It’s not chic like Norma Jeanne’s robe.”

  I was hungry. I peered in the fridge, which was well stocked with cat and dog foods but a bit meager on the human side. I fed Trixie and Twinkletoes, but I had to settle for yogurt.

  After a quick shower, I swept my hair up in a loose twist and pinned it. I debated between dresses for a moment and finally stepped into the red one to please Oma.

  It had a fitted waist. The top part was sleeveless, and the neckline curved down a bit daringly in the front. I wasn’t used to showing quite so much cleavage. The skirt featured two inverted pleats in the front so that it flared a bit. It was actually a simple dress, but the vibrant color packed a punch.

  It didn’t need much in the way of jewelry. I added dangling earrings that would sparkle when they moved, but nothing more.

  Trixie sat on the floor watching me. Twinkletoes had disappeared, probably ready for a long nap.

  I checked the big chairs in my living room. She was nowhere to be seen. I grabbed a coat and left with Trixie.

  As we stepped on the second-floor landing, Trixie tore down the hallway. Once again, I found Twinkletoes nestled with her front paws tucked under the chest, staring at the door of Sniff.

  I picked her up, but she made such a fuss that I placed her on the floor again. She groomed her fur, as though she was insulted by the smell I left on her.

  “Have it your way,” I said.

  Trixie and I continued to the lobby. “We can’t have Gingersnap show you up.” I led the way out to our Christkindl booth. It felt a little bit eerie that the booths would soon be taken away. Our handyman had already begun to box up the few items that remained. “Do we still have some of the red collars with the sparkles on them?” I asked.

  He pulled one out. “Like this?”

  “Exactly.” It glittered in the light of the booth. Even though it was probably meant for a poodle, I fastened it on Trixie’s neck. “There’s no reason a Jack Russell can’t wear bling,” I told Trixie. “Are you coming tonight?” I asked the handyman.

  “Wouldn’t miss it. Casey said the whole family is appalling.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. But they were very concerned about their inheritance.”

  “Is it true that Aunt Birdie is a suspect?” he asked.

  “Rumors travel fast in this town!”

  “Don’t evade the question, Holly Miller!”

  “I don’t think Dave has any suspects yet.” That was true enough.

  He made a face at me.

  “I’ll pay for the collar at the inn gift shop.”

  He gave me a thumbs-up. “See you at the Richardsons’.”

  Trixie and I walked along the plaza where it abutted the inn. We entered through the registration entrance. When we neared the desk, Twinkletoes shot out to surprise us.

  Trixie barked in alarm and chased her a few steps.

  When I unlocked the gift shop door, Twinkletoes dashed underfoot into the store. I deposited payment for the collar in the cash register. She didn’t stick around though. Boxes were piled on the floor. We had a lot of work ahead of us.

  But not tonight. I locked the gift shop door, and for a moment, I thought I had locked Twinkletoes inside. She mewed her soft little meh. I peered through the glass windows of the store but didn’t see her.

  Trixie barked at something, her head tilted so that she was looking up.

  Twinkletoes strolled along the second-floor railing, her tail high, prissy as could be, as though she were showing off. I hated when she did that. It was how she had gotten her name. Nevertheless, I still held my breath every time, terrified that she would fall. They say that cats right themselves and land on their feet, but I had heard of some that hadn’t.

  She leaped off the railing, and I thought she hurried along the corridor where the rooms were.

  I grabbed a golf cart key and walked out to the Sugar Maple Inn golf carts. As I drove to the party, I considered my thought regarding Trixie’s new collar. I felt like Norma Jeanne was the flashy poodle, and I was just a simple Jack.

  I scolded myself for feeling that way. No person or dog was worth more than another. I truly wanted Holmes to be happy. And if Norma Jeanne was the one who made his toes tingle, then I should be his best friend and support him. I didn’t tell Trixie what I was thinking. I suspected she wouldn’t agree with me.

  Golf carts lined the street in front of the Richardson home.

  When Holmes’s father had a serious heart problem a few years before and required a ranch-style home without stairs, his parents had gutted an older house in their favorite Wagtail neighborhood. While it looked like the same beautiful stone house from the outside, the interior had lofted ceilings and massive rooms for entertaining, all on one floor.

  Trixie and I walked into the mother of all Christmas parties. Little girls in frilly dresses ran from little boys in Christmas sweaters. A long table was loaded with tempting food, and a smal
ler one contained bowls of dog and cat party treats. I was about to nab a cheese cookie for Trixie, but she saw some of her dog pals and scampered across the room, abandoning me.

  Holmes’s grandmother Rose kissed my cheek and took my coat. She winked at me. “You look beautiful, sweetheart. There’s a bourbon cranberry punch on the table that you have to try. It’s my new favorite. And I can wholeheartedly recommend the peppermint martinis.”

  I thought I’d better eat something first. “Everything looks wonderful, Rose. Holmes must be so happy.”

  She frowned at me. Into my ear she whispered, “Of course he’s not happy. How could he be happy with that girl? Just look at her.”

  I gazed across the room. Norma Jeanne looked like she belonged on a fashion runway. Her black dress with a round neckline showed no cleavage at all. But the skirt turned into a see-through material at her panty line and spiraled around her to make the bottom of her dress. It ended just below her knees and flowed behind her, not unlike a tail. It was stunningly space-age and eye-catching, but you couldn’t have paid me to wear it.

  I had been wrong to even imagine that I might compete with her.

  But Blake upstaged everyone, even Norma Jeanne. He wore a black—well, I wasn’t quite sure what it was. A dress? A garment at any rate. On his shoulders and torso, it appeared to be a fabric that decayed into strings. The middle featured glitzy triangles. Just above his knees, it appeared shredded, so that glimpses of his bare legs showed. It ended just below his knees, revealing his legs, black socks, and short black boots. It was the most curious thing I had ever seen.

  What I noticed next though was that Norma Jeanne was watching Austin with Tiffany and her parents. He appeared to be getting along with her dad, Tim, particularly well.

  “It will kill me if Holmes marries into that family,” whispered Rose. “Who ever heard of intentionally wearing rags to a party? Now, if that were all he had, I would be the first to be sympathetic, but it’s just weird if you ask me. It looks like something a cat shredded. Excuse me, honey. I believe I’m needed.”