Rory Gannon was on my mind, and thoughts of him were not a good thing.
Fifteen
The next morning, I woke up feeling disoriented because I’d slept so hard. But with Chablis on my chest, kneading away and purring, the feeling didn’t last long. Her usual morning behavior reintroduced me to the comforts of my daily routine in a week that had been anything but.
Last night, Finn explained to Tom that he wasn’t about to stay away from Yoshi overnight. I couldn’t blame him. He and his little dog had a tremendous bond.
Tom reluctantly agreed to allow Finn to come with me after he checked Dashiell’s blood sugar and found it was high. He didn’t feel like he could trust Bob to monitor Dashiell if he were to leave his cat behind and stay at my house. But he alerted Candace to the situation and followed us to my place to make sure all my outside security cameras were operating perfectly and the lenses were clean. He could monitor my house from his computer at home, a setup I appreciated. Last night it had indeed been reassuring to have a security expert as a trusted friend.
After I got up, I took a long, hot shower, with three cats waiting anxiously for me to hurry up and feed them. The house seemed less chilly than when I’d gone to bed, and I suspected the cold front we’d experienced had passed through. Late fall in South Carolina was always a mixed bag of warm days interspersed with cold.
I was surprised when I walked down the hall and found the guest room door open and the bed neatly made. Uh-oh. Had Finn risen early and decided to take off? This town—the one where he’d hoped to find happiness—had not offered mercy, so I couldn’t blame him if he’d fled.
My fear was short-lived, however. He was sitting on the window seat in the living room looking out at the sun rising over the lake. Yoshi was curled beside him.
“Morning,” I said.
Finn stood. “I like how quiet it is here. Funny how I never thought the world could be quiet.”
“Nolan and your mom fought a lot, didn’t they?” I said.
He nodded, eyes on the cushion. “She’d break things; he’d yell. So I’d put on my earphones and plug into a game on my computer or listen to music on my iPod. Sometimes Yoshi and I would walk to the park and he’d chase a Frisbee for hours.”
“Our fur friends can sure take us to a better place, huh?” I said.
“Yup. He needs to go out, but I didn’t want to mess with your security alarm,” Finn said.
After I fed the cats and disabled the alarm under Finn’s watchful eye, we went out on the porch. Finn and Yoshi chased each other between the big trees. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt Kara had picked out. The clothes fit perfectly, thank goodness. The day looked to be much warmer—it had to be sixty already—and the still lake shimmered in the morning light. I thought about what Finn had said a few minutes ago and wondered how quiet it was inside his head with all that had gone on both in his past and since his arrival here. Maybe playing with his dog would help empty his mind for a few minutes.
I wanted to make coffee but didn’t feel comfortable leaving Finn alone out here. Rory Gannon knew where I lived, after all. So when I heard a car pull into my driveway, my mouth went instantly dry. I reached into my pocket for my phone in case we needed help.
“Finn,” I called and gestured for him to come back to the house. But Yoshi was so invested in this game of chase, the usually obedient dog wouldn’t cooperate and come to Finn. He wanted to keep playing.
“Run toward the house and he’ll probably come after you,” I yelled.
But yelling was a mistake. Our visitor must have heard me.
Hilary Roth appeared at the steps leading up to my deck. Finn had been doing as I suggested and was halfway to the house, but when he saw his mother, he stopped in his tracks. Yoshi caught up with him and sat, staring up at Finn. He held out his arms for his dog and Yoshi leaped up. Finn remained where he was.
“Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Hart, but I wanted to thank you again for caring for my son,” she said.
She hadn’t looked toward the lake, and thus apparently didn’t see Finn standing in the shadows of the pines and oaks.
“No need to thank me,” I said.
“I heard you call Finn’s name just now and—” Finally she looked to her left and spotted him. “Oh, there you are.” She held out one hand. “Can we talk? Please?”
Finn remained where he was, clutching his dog to his chest.
“Can I offer a suggestion?” I said.
She focused on Finn but spoke to me. “Certainly.”
“Give him time to recover,” I said. “He’s hurting right now, both physically and mentally.”
“You think his problems are my fault, don’t you?” she said.
I would have expected her to be angry but she only sounded resigned.
“I don’t have all the facts,” I said, “and besides, I’ve found blaming others isn’t very productive.”
“You’re being nice. All I know is I’ve made some poor choices. Except for Tom. I regret how I treated him.” She kept looking in Finn’s direction.
He turned away and walked toward the lake.
Interesting how she mentioned regret when it came to Tom and yet said nothing about her son. Maybe she truly didn’t think she was part of the problem. From Tom and Finn’s remarks, the issues between Finn and his mother were long-standing. Maybe I needed to hear her side of the story.
“Tell me a little about yourself. Do you work?” I asked, hoping to ease into conversation and get her to tell me about her life before her husband’s murder.
From the corner of my eye I saw Finn pick up a stick and toss it for Yoshi.
“I lost my job. This economy has been brutal,” she said.
“What did you used to do?” I asked.
She finally took her eyes off Finn. “Administrative assistant positions, mostly for executives. No college education, I’m afraid, but I’m a quick learner. Lately things have been pretty tough.”
Having two former inmates for ex-husbands meant not a lot of alimony or child support came her way. Still, if money was tight for Hilary, she was certainly well dressed, her hair looked salon cut and her creamy complexion seemed to have benefited from plenty of expensive care. She was either in debt up to her ears or had some other source of income.
My doubt about her tough times must have shown on my face because she said, “I have family money we’ve been living on. Nolan hasn’t worked since he left prison. He only knew how to be a cop. He couldn’t even find private security work.”
“Ah. Did he envy Tom for setting up a successful security business?” I said.
“Oh yes. He hated Tom. Jail gives a man plenty of time to simmer. Nolan couldn’t forget Tom was the one who sent him away.” She examined a rose-painted fingernail. “Despite Nolan’s faults, I loved him. And he cared about my son, just didn’t know how to show it.”
“That’s a lie,” said Tom, who had just appeared around the corner of the house. “Nolan cared about Nolan. And he sent himself to jail.”
I’d been so involved in the conversation I hadn’t heard him arrive. I wondered if he’d seen Hilary on his home computer feed from the security camera fixed to the eaves, the one pointed directly at her. Seeing her would have made him hightail it over here.
“You’re wrong, Tom,” she said quietly.
He pointed to the fading bruises on his face. “He did this to me while you watched from somewhere. I don’t care what line of bull you fed Mike Baca; you were there.”
Tom isn’t about to beat around the bush when it comes to Hilary, I thought.
“I wasn’t even in town during the time the police chief told me Nolan brought you to North Carolina,” she said.
“That’s your story?” Tom laughed derisively and took a step toward her.
I walked down the deck steps and stood between them. “If both of you care as much about Finn as you say you do, you shouldn’t argue in front of him.”
Hilary glanced in Finn’s d
irection. He may have been pretending to keep his distance, but I could tell he was paying close attention to this confrontation.
Tom hung his head and mumbled, “You’re right.”
“I’m sorry,” Hilary said. “I came hoping my son would talk to me.”
“He won’t,” Tom whispered harshly. “So leave and quit bugging Jillian. Now and in the future.”
I never saw this side of him before, I thought. He was so bitter. I wondered if he still had feelings for Hilary since lingering animosity can signal a relationship is far short of closure.
“You know what?” I said. “You two seem to have plenty of unfinished business. Why don’t you talk, settle a few things, if only for Finn’s sake. I’ll be inside making coffee.”
Before either of them could respond, I left them together. But as I made the coffee, I glanced out the window at them pointing fingers and seemingly talking at the same time. I didn’t see any progress in the peace department. But at least they were speaking. I also noticed Finn edging ever closer to them. He wanted to know what was going on and I couldn’t blame him.
I went back outside, if only to offer Finn support by my presence. But I was thinking, How can such a beautiful morning seem so stifling?
Just as I closed the door behind me so my curious feline friends wouldn’t join us, more visitors arrived.
Candace and Morris.
By the serious look on Candace’s face, I could tell this wasn’t a friendly drop-in.
“Hey there,” she said, her gloomy tone further indicating something was wrong.
“What do you two want?” Tom said. He was on the defensive.
“We need to talk to Finn,” Candace said.
“He won’t come near the house as long as she’s here.” Tom nodded at Hilary.
“Guess I’ll have to go get him.” Morris took a step in Finn’s direction.
Tom grabbed his arm. “Wait. Can I go with you?” He’d dropped the attitude and I saw alarm in his expression.
“Sure enough,” Morris said. “You know the kid and I don’t.”
As they walked toward Finn, Hilary spoke. “What’s this about, Officer?”
“We need to ask your son a few questions,” Candace said.
“You already asked him questions yesterday,” Hilary said.
“This will be a more, um… formal interview.” Candace averted her gaze, attending to what was happening between Morris, Tom and Finn.
I heard Tom say, “He’s not a murderer,” before Finn handed Yoshi over to him.
All three walked toward us, the little dog squirming in Tom’s grasp.
The whole scene made me sick to my stomach. I managed to find my voice and say, “What’s this about, Candace?”
She looked at me, a sadness in her eyes that scared me more than her earlier tone of voice.
“It’s about evidence, Jillian,” she said. “About blood and fingerprints.”
Sixteen
At least when Candace and Morris took Finn away in their squad car, they didn’t put him in handcuffs. But from what I’d learned in the past from Candace, the words formal interview were a euphemism for “we’re about ready to arrest you.”
Could Candace still believe in Finn’s innocence in light of whatever evidence she now had? From the look on her face, I doubted it.
Tom knew this, too, and he told Candace and Morris he’d be right behind them. He handed me a whining, trembling Yoshi and disappeared around the house in the direction of the driveway.
Hilary had watched in silence as her son was led away by police officers. Once Tom was gone, she said, “They think Finn killed Nolan? He would never do any such thing. He’s been sullen and angry, yes, but—”
“He needs your support right now,” I said. Yoshi wiggled in my arms and I swear if I let go, he’d chase the police car all the way to downtown Mercy.
“Should I follow them?” she said.
“That’s up to you.” The fact she was asking me told me more about her parenting than anything I’d learned about her up until this moment. “I need to put Yoshi inside.”
Hilary looked dazed. “Poor Yoshi.” She reached her hand out to him, but he buried his head in my chest.
Without another word, Hilary Roth left.
Yoshi and I went inside, and after I set the dog down, I reset the security alarm, the thought of the volatile Rory Gannon ever present.
How could I help Finn and Tom? Should I stay here or join the crowd at the police station? Since Tom still didn’t have a cell phone, I couldn’t even call and ask him what he wanted me to do. I had to help, but how?
I decided to call Kara and ask her opinion. I needed a level-headed person like her to guide the newly frazzled me.
She answered on the first ring and said, “What’s happening? I heard they’re taking Finn down to the station to question him again.”
I should have known Kara had her finger on Mercy’s pulse. “They just left here. Candace talked about blood and fingerprint evidence, so I’m assuming they’ve got something important.”
“It’s called hard evidence, Jillian,” she said, “and something I doubt is good news for Finn.”
“I feel so helpless.” I explained how Finn, Tom and Hilary had been here when Candace and Morris arrived.
“I take it Tom went with Finn to the police station. What about the mother? Where’s she?”
“I’m guessing she followed, too. Do you think Finn’s fingerprints were on the gun?”
“Probably,” she said. “If the blood on his clothes belonged to Nolan Roth, well, I’m not sure why they didn’t read Finn his rights and arrest him.”
“True. Can you find out what they’ve got?” I said.
“I can try. No promises. Will you do me a favor, too?” she asked. “The contractor wants my approval on the brickwork on my new house. I’d like your opinion.”
“It won’t take long, will it? I’m not sure if I should join Tom at the police station or—”
“What can you do there? Nothing, really. Why not wait until you have more information? Besides, you need a distraction, Jillian. Yesterday I could see how this situation is stressing you out. You may believe you keep everything inside, but I’ve learned to read you pretty well.”
She told me she’d make a few calls and then pick me up. In the meantime, I made a call myself. Though I’d committed to a booth at the last craft fair of the season, I knew I couldn’t leave town now. I’d agonize my way to Greenville and back. The woman who managed the event was more than kind and I told her I’d overnight the raffle quilt they’d been advertising, the one I’d hand quilted. The proceeds would go to a children’s charity.
I’d just finished packing up the quilt—a plaid pinwheel design with a flying-geese border—when Kara knocked on the dead-bolted back door. No walking right into the house like she usually did, not with Rory Gannon lurking around town.
We drove to One Stop Ship, a mom-and-pop shipping business in the center of Mercy. The store bore Mercy’s requisite green awning and the gray-haired Phoebe Langstrom stood behind the counter wearing a green polo shirt.
She said, “Why, if it isn’t two of my favorite ladies in all of Mercy. Sending quilts to some lucky folks today, Jillian?”
“One quilt, anyway. It needs to go overnight.” I placed the box on the scale. While I filled out the form and Phoebe calculated the charges, we chatted about her grandchildren, her husband who was home with the gout and the new desserts Belle recently added at Belle’s Beans. This was normal Mercy chat and for a few moments, I almost relaxed.
Kara had taken a call while I’d been talking to Phoebe and when she hung up, she said, “No prints on the gun.”
“How very interesting,” Phoebe said. “The only gun you could possibly be talking about is the one that killed the man in Tom Stewart’s car.”
Oh, Mercy was talking. Why should I be surprised? There were no secrets for long in this town.
Kara smiled. “What else have y
ou heard, Phoebe?”
She smoothed the mailing sticker on my box and then put the box on the shelf behind her. “We do have a multitude of strangers in town thanks to the murder and people are talking. Saw Tom Stewart’s ex-wife over at Belle’s. Pretty thing. Never knew he had an ex. Did you?” She was addressing me.
“Not until recently,” I said.
“Hear tell her current husband was the victim,” she said. “Well, I suppose current no longer applies. Poor man was shot in the head. I’m wondering if he was killed before or after Tom’s car crashed. A bullet in your brain makes driving a bit difficult now, doesn’t it?”
“It certainly does, Phoebe,” Kara said. “So you heard the man who died was driving the car?”
“He was found in the driver’s seat,” Phoebe said. “Strange thing, that. Angie Martin and I were talking and we decided Tom and his ex-wife’s husband must have been on good terms if he let the man borrow his car.”
Nolan Roth and Tom on good terms? I thought. Not exactly.
“You ever consider working for my paper as an investigative reporter?” Kara said.
Phoebe tittered at this suggestion. “You could hire anyone in this town for such a job, don’t ya think?”
“I do believe you’re right,” Kara said.
We left, and as we climbed into Kara’s SUV she said, “Why didn’t I think about confirming where Nolan Roth’s body was found?”
“Because we knew he had Tom’s car,” I said. “I simply assumed the obvious.”
“As a reporter, I shouldn’t assume anything, even if it turns out to be true. Phoebe raised an important question, though. Was Roth shot before or after he crashed into the telephone pole?”
“Why is it important?” I asked.
She turned the key in the ignition. “Maybe it’s not. But I know the police are surely asking the same question as they examine the evidence. I may not be a cop, but sometimes I have to think like one.”
The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon: A Cats in Trouble Mystery Page 13
