The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon: A Cats in Trouble Mystery

by Leann Sweeney

  “Yes, she was there and so was Tom.” I tore at a cuticle with my teeth.

  “Guess we should alert Tom to the situation. Trouble is, the man doesn’t have a cell phone and I don’t have the time to—”

  “I’ll go to his place and tell him. He planned to pick up Dashiell and then see if he could extricate his brother from the house. He’ll want to protect Finn and his mother from Gannon.”

  Candace pointed at me. “You lock this place up tight and set your alarm—whether you’re out of the house or not. You hear me? If anything happened to you, well…” She shook her head and averted her eyes.

  I walked around and hugged Candace. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

  Fourteen

  Fifteen minutes later, the late-afternoon sun doing little to kill the chill in the air, I pulled into Tom’s driveway. As soon as I got within five feet of the front door, I heard raised voices. My stomach tightened and I stood still. What is going on now?

  Then I recognized the voices of both Tom and Bob exchanging heated barbs. I went to the door and knocked loudly so they could hear me over their argument.

  Bob was saying, “You owe me, brother. Mom owes me. I’m tired of this family crap.”

  I knocked even louder, and this time Tom opened the door. His face was flushed with anger and his eyes had what looked like minuscule red lightning strikes mapping the whites.

  He said, “Oh. Hi.”

  “Hi.” I smiled, wishing I could relieve the distress that seemed to have taken over his whole demeanor. Too many awful things had happened to him in the last week.

  “Come on in.” He stood aside so I could enter. “Bob was just leaving.”

  Didn’t look like he was leaving to me. He was standing, arms folded, his cheeks just as red as Tom’s. No flirty smile today.

  “Where am I supposed to go?” Bob said.

  “Back under the rock you slithered out from,” Tom answered.

  “Um, guys, please. This isn’t good for either of you.” I felt out of place playing referee, but someone had to. The bad blood between these two must have gone back a long way.

  Turned out, a cat accomplished what only pets can do. Dashiell came lumbering into the living room and offered up a pitiful meow.

  “See?” I said. “Even Dashiell wants you to stop.”

  Tom looked embarrassed. Even the brash Bob looked down at the floor.

  Tom said, “You’re right. The stress isn’t good for Dashiell. His blood sugar is stable and I want it to stay that way.”

  I knelt and Dashiell came to me. He rubbed against my knees. I petted him, glad he could do catlike things again after the major scare of finding him unconscious. “He looks fine, Tom. I know you must be relieved.”

  “Guess I should say I’m sorry for letting him escape,” Bob said. “I had no idea he’d get so sick.”

  Tom stared at his brother, looking a tad stunned. “Was that an apology?”

  “Yeah, it was,” Bob said. “You want to apologize for treating me like dirt on your shoe now?”

  “Okay, how’s this?” Tom said. “I’ll give you money to leave. A thousand bucks. One condition, though. You leave Mom alone.”

  “You’re kidding, right? You think I came here for a thousand stinking bucks?” he said.

  “Why did you come, Bob?” I said.

  He reverted to his rogue smile and I saw a change in his eyes. Like a curtain dropped. The mask was back on. “Family first, they always say.”

  “Oh, sure,” Tom said. “And I’ve got a bridge spanning the Atlantic I’d like to sell you.”

  “Is a compromise possible?” I asked before Tom got worked up again.

  “I won’t stay long. How’s that?” Bob said.

  “How long is not long?” Tom said.

  “I’ll be gone in a week,” Bob said. “I’ve got some prospects and just need a place to hang out until I settle a few things.”

  “You’re broke again?” Tom said.

  “Is a week tolerable, Tom?” I asked. Though I wasn’t exactly fond of Bob, I was beginning to feel a little sorry for him. I mean, what kind of prospects could he have here in Mercy?

  “As long as he stays out of my face, I guess a week is okay. But no longer.” Tom turned and walked toward the kitchen. “Come on, Jillian. I need a drink. And I’m not talking about sweet tea.”

  Tom grabbed the bottle of Jameson’s Irish Whiskey from a high kitchen cupboard and poured us both two fingers in water tumblers. I am not really a fan of whiskey, but there are times we all need the comfort of spirits, as my grandma used to say. Tom downed his drink in one gulp. He closed his eyes and said, “I needed that.”

  Staring down into the glass, I said, “You might need more than one shot after what I have to tell you.”

  His eyes widened. “What’s wrong? It’s not Finn, is it?”

  “Well, there is a connection. A big connection.” I quickly told him about the episode with Rory Gannon.

  “Great. How did he end up in Mercy?” Tom said. He wasn’t actually expecting me to answer, just voicing his frustration. He went on, saying, “We have to get over to my mom’s house right now. If he knew where to find you, he probably knows where to find my mother.” Tom started for the back door.

  “But how, Tom?” I said, hurrying after him.

  “I don’t know, but somehow the man’s found out about Finn and is here looking for him.” He pulled me by the hand as we went outside. “Right now I’m just sorry I got you involved. Since my mother has zero security, even though I’ve offered to install a system at her house at least a dozen times, Finn won’t be safe there.”

  “There’s no room for him here,” I said as we practically ran around the back of the house toward the driveway.

  “I’ll make room,” Tom said. “If Bob has to go, so be it. Let’s take your van. Get over there as fast as possible.”

  After I slid behind the driver’s seat and Tom was beside me, I said, “Let Finn stay with me. You can, too. Bring Dashiell. You know I have plenty of room, and somebody named Tom Stewart installed a state-of-the-art security system at my house.”

  “It won’t work,” he said. “With Dashiell’s blood sugar scare—”

  “Being around a dog would be too stressful,” I finished. “But you know my house is open to you.”

  “I have to stay home while Bob’s hanging around. If I don’t watch out, he might rob me blind or spend his time figuring out ways to get to Mom. Here’s what you could do, though. Keep the dog while Finn stays with me. That way I can protect him. I’ll roll out a sleeping bag for myself if I have to.”

  “You don’t even know if Gannon intends him any harm,” I said.

  “What’s your gut tell you about him?” he said.

  “He’s a scary guy,” I said, remembering his face and his intensity. “Whatever you decide, I’m with you.”

  Minutes later, I pulled into the driveway of the house where Karen lived with her partner, Ed Duffy.

  Ed, wearing blue jean overalls and a plaid flannel shirt answered the door. I noticed his beard was showing more signs of gray than the last time I’d seen him.

  He smiled and said, “Haven’t seen Karen this happy in a long time. Come on in and join the party.”

  Ed couldn’t possibly be this jovial if Rory Gannon had shown up. We found Finn and Karen sitting at the dining room table playing chess. The house was chilly and Karen wore a pale blue collared cardigan with every pearl button fastened. I wondered where she bought these vintage clothes, or if she’d bought them years ago and simply taken excellent care of them. I noted a can of Dr Pepper beside Finn’s hand. I was glad I had a good supply at my place now and would make sure to hand over a few liter bottles to Tom.

  Karen looked up at Tom. She was beaming. “He’s beaten me twice already. What a difference a few years make.”

  “I play chess online all the time,” Finn said.

  “Hate to break up the party,” Tom said, “but Finn needs to come w
ith us.”

  “But I have supper on, Thomas,” Karen said. “The macaroni and cheese is in the oven and Ed was just about ready to fry up the catfish he caught today.”

  Tom bit the side of his mouth, seeming to consider the importance of a doting grandmother who was fixing what might well be Finn’s favorite meal. Finally he said, “Guess we could stay for a spell. Do you have enough food for all of us?”

  “We have enough fish for an army,” Ed said. “I’ll get busy with my part of this deal.”

  While he ambled to the kitchen, Karen said, “Guess we’ll have to save this game for another time. I almost had you in checkmate, Finnian.”

  Finn smiled. “Sure you did, Nana.”

  While Karen and Finn cleared the chess pieces off the table, Tom joined Ed in the kitchen. Karen took place mats and plates from the antique buffet against the wall. Finn and I were helping her set the table when someone knocked on the door.

  “Now, who could that be?” Karen asked as she started for the front door.

  Tom rushed from the kitchen, saying, “Mom, let me answer.” Before she could even react to his words, he looked through the peephole and said, “Jillian, can you tell me if this is the guy?”

  “What guy?” Karen asked.

  Tom held a finger to his lips while I looked through the peephole.

  “That’s him.” I stepped back.

  “Call Candace while I keep him busy,” he said.

  Finn stepped into the living room. “What’s happening?”

  “I’ll take care of this,” Tom replied. “Could you all please wait in the kitchen with Jillian?”

  “Did you forget this is my house, Thomas? I’m not going anywhere.” Karen fiddled with a sweater button. The words may have been exactly what I expected from her, but I could see a hint of concern in her deep blue eyes.

  More knocking, louder this time.

  Not ready for another encounter with Rory Gannon, I took Finn’s arm and said, “Let’s do what Tom wants.” We walked to the kitchen together, but Karen didn’t follow. We joined Ed, who was preparing the catfish.

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and speed-dialed Candace’s number. She should be home by now—unless she was working nonstop. She answered immediately.

  “What’s up?” she said.

  “You-know-who is here at Karen’s house.” I glanced at Finn, who was in the kitchen entry apparently trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on in the other room. “The guy from earlier today.”

  “Is he threatening y’all?” she asked.

  “Tom’s talking to him, so I’m not sure.” I licked my dry lips.

  “I’m on my way. Give me five minutes.” She disconnected.

  “Trouble?” Ed asked. He hovered over a catfish filet sizzling in a cast-iron skillet on the old gas stove.

  “You could say that,” I said. “But between Tom and Candace, they’ll get the situation under control. Everything will be fine.” I looked back to the entry and Finn was gone. “Maybe I spoke too soon.” I went after him.

  “Is that you, Finnian?” I heard Rory Gannon say.

  I arrived in the living room to see Karen standing on the threshold of the open front door. Tom had stepped outside to speak with Gannon—probably trying to keep him around until Candace showed up.

  “Mom, please go inside and shut the door,” Tom said.

  Finn peered around Tom’s tall frame at Gannon. He said, “Do I know you?”

  “I’m your dad, son,” Gannon said.

  There it was, another slug to the jaw from the past.

  By his expression, Tom sure seemed to have felt the blow when he turned to Finn. “We don’t know if he’s telling the truth, Finn.”

  But Finn was nodding his head. “I’ve seen your picture. How did you find me?”

  “See? He knows me,” Gannon said. “Too bad I never saw your picture after I left for that hospital, Finnian. Sure wish I had, but your mother took you and disappeared.”

  Tom tried to block Gannon’s view but without much success, since Finn seemed more than interested in this man—and with good reason.

  “See? He wants to visit,” Gannon said. “You can’t keep a boy from his kin.”

  “Where have you been all this time?” Finn’s voice was a monotone.

  “Does it matter? I’m here now to meet up with my boy,” Gannon said and added a half laugh. “My long-lost boy.”

  No, I thought. That’s not why you’re here. Though he seemed more in control than earlier today, I thought of the Eagles song about “lying eyes.” Gannon had some other motive for coming here, of that much I was certain. I had the feeling Nolan or Hilary Roth might have had a hand in Gannon’s arrival. How else could he have known to come to Mercy?

  “Your long-lost boy, huh? What a nice sentiment,” Candace said. She’d come up behind Gannon so quickly and quietly I hadn’t heard her. She must have parked halfway down the block because I surely would have recognized the sound of her RAV4’s engine. She still wore her uniform and her hand gripped her weapon. “How’s about you come down to the station and you can talk to me about why you’ve come to Mercy, Mr. Gannon?”

  Gannon’s eyes locked on me. He raised a hand and pointed past Tom. “You called the cops on me twice in one day? What did I ever do to you, lady?”

  Scared me silly? I thought, wishing I could make myself invisible. As if he’d read my mind, Tom sidestepped to block Gannon’s view of me now, though he wasn’t completely successful. I could still see Gannon, so he could certainly still see me.

  But he abruptly turned to Candace. “As for you, I don’t have to go anywhere you say, especially not to a police station. I have every right to visit with my son.”

  Candace said, “Finn’s rights are what concern me, not yours.” Candace looked past the two men in the doorway. “Finn, you want to talk to this man?”

  Finn’s answer was to return to the kitchen without a word. As I went after him, I heard Karen talking, though I couldn’t make out what she was saying. Ed was smiling and humming, in his own fish-fry world. He’d placed several pieces of finished catfish filets on paper towels on the counter near the stove.

  Finn went to his side, apparently ready to forget what had just happened. “You really caught all these fish yourself?”

  “Easy to do. Ever heard of a trotline?” Ed asked.

  Seemed like Finn felt the same way I did—that here in this old-fashioned kitchen filled with the smell of a home-cooked meal, the world seemed sane and safe. You could escape and pretend crazy people weren’t stirring up trouble only twenty feet away.

  “I used to fish with Tom when I was a kid,” Finn said. “Is a trotline the one with all the fish hooks baited and you string it out across the water?”

  “That’s exactly right. You and me, we can do some fishing if you want. I can show you more than the easy stuff,” Ed said.

  I listened to their conversation while keeping an ear on what might be happening in the other room. Finally I heard the front door close, and soon Candace joined us in the kitchen. Tom and Karen remained in the other room; I hoped not with Rory Gannon in their company.

  “Mr. Gannon’s gone,” Candace said. “I couldn’t really arrest him since he hasn’t broken the law. But I sure wish he would have agreed to visit with me down at the station. I might have found out more about him and how he ended up in Mercy—that is, if you want to know, Finn.”

  Candace’s question snatched Finn back into the reality of fractured families and serious problems. He wore his sadness in his body language and on his face. My heart ached for him.

  Finn said, “I don’t care why he’s here. I have to say, he sure looked different than I imagined.”

  “I’ll find some reason to pull him in for an interview. For now I told him to keep his distance from you and your family,” Candace said. “But I want you to tell me if he bothers you again.”

  “Sure,” Finn said quietly.

  Ed smiled at Candace. “Join us fo
r supper, Miss Candace? We’d sure like to have you.”

  She said, “Love to, Ed, but I have way too much work to do—and just added Rory Gannon to the list of things I have to follow up on. Maybe there’s a parole violation I can use as leverage.”

  I would have thought Finn would be upset by the revelation that Gannon had been to prison, but his face remained impassive.

  I could tell Candace was upset with herself for saying anything about Gannon’s past. “Sorry I brought that up. Are you okay, Finn?”

  “Yeah. I’m good,” he said in a monotone.

  “Guess I’ll be leaving, then. Y’all take care and call me if he comes back.” She turned and started for the living room.

  “Don’t be driving around corners like you’re trying for a spot on a NASCAR team, you hear?” Ed said, returning to his job.

  I walked Candace back through the dining area and into the living room just in time to hear Karen say, “He’s the boy’s flesh and blood, Thomas.”

  “He’s also a convicted felon,” Candace said.

  “Oh my,” Karen said. “I had no idea. Poor Hilary had to live with two men who ended up on the wrong side of the law. This is like a Greek tragedy, isn’t it?”

  Greek tragedy? Karen did have a flare for the dramatic.

  Meanwhile, Tom was saying, “Poor Hilary, my ass.”

  Karen’s cheeks reddened so much I could see her cheeks flush despite her heavy rouge. “Watch your tongue, son. She brought Finn into our lives. You need to reconcile your differences with her for Finn’s sake—and for your own. She hurt you, yes, but she’s a good person who’s simply made poor choices.”

  Since Karen was a recovering alcoholic with multiple failed marriages in her past, I understood how she could relate to Hilary Roth.

  “Mom, can we drop this before Finn comes back into the room?” Tom said.

  Candace cleared her throat. “Um, I’m thinking paperwork looks mighty inviting right now.” She said her good-byes and left.

  Ed appeared and called us to supper. Though the food was delicious, I learned a lesson. Do not eat fried fish after two days like we’d all experienced. My stomach was churning when Tom, Finn and I climbed into my van for the short trip back to Tom’s house.