The Catsgiving Feast

by Kathi Daley

  Cody left to see to the delivery of the rented tables and chairs and I headed into town. When I arrived at the Driftwood Café, I was happy to see Alice was once again manning the desk.

  “Morning, Cait. Are you here for breakfast?”

  “Actually, I just had one more question for you. We spoke about the customers who were here last Thursday and you gave me a list of everyone who was dining at around three o’clock. Was there anyone here to pick up takeout?”

  Alice paused. “There was one man. I didn’t recognize him. I don’t think he was local.”

  “What did he buy?”

  “A blackberry pie. It was our special that day.”

  I felt my heart melt into my stomach. “Did you at any point leave the reception desk while he was waiting?”

  Alice nodded. “Sure. I went to the kitchen to box up the pie. I was gone for maybe three minutes. Is there a problem?”

  I shook my head. “No. No problem. Do you remember when the man came in?”

  “Not specifically. Maybe thirty minutes into my shift.”

  I glanced at the telephone sitting on the desk. I had a feeling I knew who had framed Miranda. Now I just needed to tell my fiancé that while his mother was innocent, he had a relative who might not be. The only detail that cast any doubt on my theory was that Eric wasn’t a woman.

  ******

  “So, did you talk to your cousin?” I asked Cody that afternoon, after I’d explained my theory to him, completely demolishing his recently acquired good mood.

  Cody ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah.” He let out a breath. “I spoke to him.”

  “And?”

  “And he admitted to making the call and planting the rolling pin in Miranda’s shop.”

  I put a hand to my chest. “Why would he do that?”

  “Eric believed at that point that my mom was guilty. She’d been acting oddly, and he found her clothes with blood on them. When I came by the inn and confronted her about the medications she was taking, Eric realized her behavior might have been his fault because he was the one who’d given her the pills. He knew he needed to get them both off the island, but Mom had been ordered to stay put by the sheriff. He figured if he had someone else to focus his investigation on, he’d be diverted from looking too closely at Mom.”

  “I guess that makes sense, but why Miranda, and why use the phone at the Driftwood?”

  Cody looked so tired. I felt so bad for him. “Eric had overheard people at the inn talking about Miranda, and that she was a strong suspect in the case. He figured she’d be believable as the killer, so he planted the rolling pin in her storage room. He hadn’t planned to make the call from the Driftwood, but he didn’t want to use a phone that could be traced back to him. When he stopped by to get the pie, and saw the place was all but deserted, he decided to jump on the opportunity when he was left alone with the phone. He disguised his voice and called in the anonymous tip.”

  I sat down next to Cody. “So what do we do? Do we tell Finn?”

  Cody rested his elbows on his knees and put his head in his hands. “I don’t know. I suppose we should, but I’m hesitant. Eric has always been a jerk, but he did it to help my mother. He really thought she was guilty. Heck, so did I. The idea of sneaking her off the island entered my mind more than once, so I understand why Eric did it. Of course, I’d never try to pin the murder on someone else.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. If we told Finn what Eric had done, he might be arrested for tampering with an investigation. And maybe he should be. On the other hand, it had been proven that the rolling pin wasn’t the murder weapon, so Miranda was off the hook. Finn needed to know, but I decided to let Cody come around to that conclusion on his own.

  Cody needed to get back to Mr. Parsons’s to meet the delivery people. I decided to give him some space to work through things in his mind, so I went into town to try to figure out the rest of this mystery. We knew who’d framed Miranda; now we just needed to find out who’d killed Sally.

  ******

  After two hours of walking up and down the street where Sally’s bakery was located, talking to folks who’d claimed not to have noticed anything unusual the day Sally died, I was getting pretty frustrated. And then I happened to run into one of the pressers who worked for Oliver Patton in the alley behind the cleaners, and things began to slide into place.

  “Yikes. I can see I’m busted.” Laura Riverton slipped the cigarette in her hand behind her back. “You won’t tell, will you? Oliver has a strict policy about not smoking while on shift, but there’s no way I can make it eight hours without a fix. I slip out here a couple of times a day when no one’s looking.”

  “Your secret is safe with me,” I assured her. It was freezing and damp today, so if she was willing to brave the elements for a smoke, she must really need it.

  “Thanks.” Laura looked at the object between her fingers. “Nasty habit, but a heck of a hard one to break.”

  “So I’ve heard.” I looked up and down the alley. There was a single back door, but it didn’t appear to line up directly with the dry cleaners. “Does that back door lead to the cleaners?” I asked.

  “It leads to the hallway shared by the four businesses in the building. The alley access is supposed to be used for deliveries, but I’m not the only person who uses it for a quick nicotine fix.”

  I glanced at the door again. “So you can get to any of the four businesses through that door?”

  “Sure. That’s what I just said.”

  “And are the doors leading from the hallway into each of the businesses kept locked?”

  “Not during business hours. I think the hallway is supposed to provide an emergency exit as well.”

  “So as an employee of the dry cleaners, you have backdoor access to the bakery or trinket shop?”

  Laura frowned. “Sure, I guess. Why are you asking all these questions?”

  I blushed. “Sorry. I just had a thought I wanted to confirm. Listen, I have to go. Enjoy your smoke.”

  Making a quick decision, I went directly to Finn’s office. Yes, there was a part of me who wanted to confront Miranda directly to test out my theory, but I had enough on my plate this week without foolishly putting myself in danger. When I arrived at the storefront next to the newspaper where Finn kept his office, I found him alone.

  “I have to say, you look like a woman with a mission if ever there was one.” Finn chuckled. “I take it you have news.”

  “I do have news.” I looked toward the hallway that led to the private office. “Are you alone? Can we talk in confidence?”

  “I’m alone. What’s up?”

  “I think I know who killed Sally.”

  Finn motioned for me to take a seat across the desk from him. “Okay. Who killed Sally?”

  “Miranda Wells.”

  “Miranda Wells has been cleared,” Finn reminded me.

  “Not necessarily. Remember my crazy theory about Miranda being guilty but wanting to divert attention from her actions on the day of the murder and so framing herself with evidence she knew would be proven false, thereby making it appear as if she wasn’t guilty at all?”

  “You think Miranda framed herself?” Finn asked.

  “No. She didn’t frame herself. Someone else framed her, but what if the actions of the person who framed her led to the same thing? What if Miranda really did kill Sally? She definitely had motive, means, and opportunity. She was a serious suspect until she was arrested based on false evidence. Then, suddenly, she was off the hook simply because the evidence used to arrest her turned out to be fake.”

  Finn frowned. “Okay, I’m following. But why are you so set on Miranda as the killer? Do you have proof?”

  “No, I don’t have proof. But I do have a theory.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I was canvassing the area near the bakeshop today when I ran into one of the pressers who works for Oliver Patton. She was in the alley, having a smoke. As we chatted, I noticed for
the first time that there’s a back door leading from the building out into the alley. The door is used for deliveries and services for all four businesses in the building. I realized that gave Miranda access to the bakery without her having to go out onto the sidewalk in the front of the building.”

  Finn looked a bit confused but still open to what I was saying. “Okay. Keep going.”

  “Several people saw Mrs. West yelling at Sally. We still don’t know exactly when she left, but we do know she was in an accident in front of the inn at around three forty-five, so she probably would have had to leave the bakery by three thirty at the very latest to get there. I’m guessing earlier, around three fifteen or three twenty. I know two witnesses claimed to have seen Mrs. West yelling at Sally at three thirty, but they admitted they weren’t sure of the exact time, and it does seem as if Sally wouldn’t have put up with being yelled at for a full thirty minutes, so three fifteen to three thirty seems to make a better estimate.”

  “Okay. Where are you going with this?”

  “Hang on. I got sidetracked, I guess, but I’m almost there. Based on the charge entered into the register at three fifty-five, we’ve been placing the time of death at four o’clock.”

  “Yes, that’s what we’re using as time of death.”

  “Which give Miranda an alibi, because she had customers from around four o’clock to four thirty. But what if the time of death is off? What if Mrs. West left at or before three thirty and Miranda snuck over via the shared hallway and confronted her about her plot to take over her lease right after that? What if that’s when the confrontation became violent and Sally ended up on the receiving end of a rolling pin to the head? What if Miranda knew she would be a suspect and would need an alibi, so she rang up the fake sale at three fifty-five and returned to her shop by four o’clock? She has receipts to show she rang up sales of her own between four and four thirty. And she might have. Or those sales might be fake too.”

  “That’s a good theory, but how do we prove it?” Finn asked. “When we searched her place after the anonymous tip, we didn’t find anything other than the planted rolling pin, which means if she is guilty, she was smart enough to get rid of any real evidence.”

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “Finding proof might be a problem.” I smiled at Finn. “But it’s your job to prove these things, and I have a dinner to get ready for, so I’ll leave you to it.”

  “Cait…” Finn said as I got up to leave.

  “Yes?”

  “You now seem certain Miranda didn’t plant the fake evidence even though it was your crazy theory that she might have in the first place. Why are you so certain?”

  “Because I know who did it.”

  “Who?”

  “Give me until the end of the day and I’ll fill you in. I have someone I need to talk to first.”

  I returned to the cabin as soon as I left Finn’s office. Cody still wasn’t there, so I went to the main house to check in with Siobhan and Maggie. The wonderful smell of pumpkin alerted me to the fact that they were baking pies before I entered.

  “It smells amazing in here.” I poured a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table.

  “We decided to do pies today and the turkey and sides tomorrow,” Siobhan said.

  “It seems like everything is right on track,” I commented after taking a sip of hot brew.

  “I think we’re in good shape. Francine is really on top of things,” Maggie said. “We may end up with enough food to feed several small armies, but I suppose we can send everyone home with leftover bags.”

  “How did the sleuthing go?” Siobhan asked.

  I filled her in on my theory of Miranda as the killer, and that I’d told everything to Finn and left it in his capable hands. “Now all I need to do is get my wedding back on track and I’ll be able to relax and enjoy the holidays.”

  “Have you heard anything about when the church is supposed to reopen?” Siobhan asked as she slid a pie into the oven.

  “Not until mid-December. That’s when Cody and I are leaving for Florida, and we really wanted to be married before we went. I guess we’ll need to look for a new venue.”

  “Is Cody’s mom planning to come back?” Siobhan asked.

  “No. We’ve talked about it, and given the circumstances, we’re going to get married without her. She mentioned doing a reception of some sort for her family and friends when we get to Florida.”

  “What about having it here?” Siobhan suggested.

  “I doubt everyone will fit.”

  “So don’t invite everyone. Do something really intimate. Only invite the people you and Cody absolutely need to have at your wedding to be happy,” Siobhan said. “I’m not saying who you should invite, or who Mom wanted to invite, just the people you and Cody absolutely need.”

  “Well, you and Finn, of course, and Maggie and Michael, Mom and Gabe, Cassie, Danny, and Aiden, and Aiden will want to bring Alanna.” I paused and caught my breath. “And of course Tara and Mr. Parsons. I’d like to invite Francine, as well as Banjo and Summer. Oh, and Willow and Alex.” I paused again. “And Marley.”

  “Is there anyone else you simply must have?”

  “I’ll need to check with Cody, but no, I guess that’s it if we’re talking family and close friends only.”

  Siobhan used her fingers to come up with a number. “Counting you and Cody, that’s twenty,” Siobhan pointed out. “We’ve had twenty to dinner before.”

  “Oh, and Sister Mary,” I added, referring to Tara’s biological mother.

  “Okay, twenty-one.”

  I paused to let the idea sink in. I really did want to get this whole wedding thing behind me, and a small ceremony seemed preferable to going to city hall, which I’d started to seriously consider. I smiled. “I’ll need to run this past Cody, but I like it. When, though?”

  “How about tomorrow?” Siobhan suggested. “You’re scheduled to go back to work on Friday, which is the first day of your busiest season. Why not be married before you return?”

  “Cody and I have the marriage license, but we’ll need to find someone to officiate. Father Bartholomew wouldn’t do it here in the house.”

  “What about Michael?” Maggie suggested.

  “Michael can still do weddings?”

  “He’s no longer a priest, so he can’t perform traditional Catholic weddings, but he’s still licensed by the State of Washington.”

  That sounded perfect, and I said so, then texted Cody to let him know we needed to talk right away. He met me at the house immediately. By the time we’d talked things through, we’d come up with a final list of twenty-five guests. Cody seemed almost relieved with the decision to get married here at the house tomorrow evening and then have a dinner together in place of a reception. Michael confirmed that he was delighted to perform the ceremony, and Maggie and Siobhan promised to take care of everything else, so I called Tara and then went back into town to get my hair trimmed and my nails manicured.

  Chapter 13

  Wednesday, November 21

  “You look beautiful,” Siobhan said as I stood in front of the mirror and considered my image. I peered at the dress Maggie had so lovingly made for me, through eyes made up by Siobhan to look natural yet defined. I held the bouquet Cassie had made from flowers she’d handpicked for the occasion. Around my neck was the sapphire necklace Tara had given me for my something blue. I wore the garter my mother had worn when she married my father for the something borrowed, and the dress Maggie had made featured small pearls that had originally been sewn onto the dress worn by my grandmother for the something old.

  I smiled in response because I knew if I opened my mouth the tears I was holding back would spill down my face despite my best intentions. I couldn’t believe the wedding I’d spent a year avoiding was finally here. Everything had been such a huge mess, and on the surface, it seemed as if Cody and I had both made compromises. But now I knew in my heart this small wedding with those closest to us would be absolutely per
fect.

  “Once the music starts, we’re going to walk down the stairs to where the guys are waiting in the living room,” Siobhan explained. “Cassie will go first and stand next to Aiden, I’ll go next and stand next to Finn, and Tara will come down just before you and stand next to Danny. Once Tara’s in place, the music will change and you’ll come down the stairs slowly so we can get photos. Mr. Parsons is going to meet you at the bottom of the stairs and walk you the rest of the way down the aisle. He’ll kiss your cheek, then hand you over to Cody. Any questions?”

  I shook my head.

  “Are you okay?” Tara asked.

  I took a deep breath. “I’m fine. I’m just trying not to cry. I’d hate to mess up the makeup Siobhan spent hours getting just right.”

  Siobhan hugged me. “Cry if you need to. I used professional-grade cosmetics. If you’re trapped outdoors in a hurricane, you can be assured your mascara won’t run.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh as I wiped away a single tear that streamed down my face but, as promised, didn’t cause the makeup to run.

  “Mom wanted a minute alone with you,” Siobhan said. “I can hear her in the hall. We’ll be waiting for you at the top of the stairs.”

  I nodded again. Siobhan, Cassie, and Tara walked out as my mother came in. She put her hand to her mouth as tears streamed down her face.

  “You look so beautiful.”

  I choked back more tears. “Thank you. I can’t believe this moment is finally here.”

  Mom faced me and took my hands in hers. “That’s the way life works most of the time. We spend much of the time we have on this earth planning for the big events. Births, weddings, anniversaries, trips. Then, in the blink of an eye, they’re over.” Mom ran a finger down my cheek. “I remember my own wedding. How scared I was and yet how happy. As I looked into the future, I believed the world was mine. And it was. For a while. Your dad and I had a wonderful life. We bore five beautiful children. He would be so proud of you, as am I.”