by Linda Reilly
Lara shook her head. “He won’t let you get that close, but I appreciate your trying.”
“It’s my job, right?” Kayla shrugged.
“You know,” she told Kayla, “there was a time when Ballou wouldn’t go near a human. Aunt Fran figured out that he’d been hiding under my bed during the day. Only after all humans were safely asleep did he venture out to eat and explore.”
“He doesn’t seem that scared anymore,” Kayla said in her soft voice.
“He’s not as frightened as he used to be, but he’s wary. He definitely doesn’t like to be touched.”
Lara had tried numerous times to stroke the soft fur between Ballou’s ears. Each time she’d been rewarded with the swipe of a black paw.
“I won’t give up,” Kayla said. “Somewhere behind those watchful eyes is a playful kitty waiting to come out.”
Lara sat back on the heels of her hands and observed Kayla. She was impressed with the young woman. Kayla had finished grooming Bootsie and had moved on to Twinkles. Her touch was gentle, and she talked to the cats in a quiet, singsong tone.
Kayla looked up sharply. She’d caught Lara staring.
“Hey, listen, it’s great having you here,” Lara said. “I’m a watercolor artist, and I’m working on several commissioned projects simultaneously. With you helping out, I can devote more of my days to my artwork.”
“Phew! What a relief. I was afraid you might think I didn’t do enough.”
“You do plenty,” Lara assured her. “When you’re ready for a break, pop into my studio, okay?”
“I will.”
Lara rose from the floor and went into the small parlor. She’d just set her cell on the card table when it pinged with a text. Her heart raced when she saw the name. Deanna had texted.
We have a situation. Kittens not eating.
“What? Why?” Lara said aloud.
Instead of texting Deanna, she punched her telephone number.
“I had a feeling you’d call as soon as you got my text,” Deanna said, a catch in her voice. “I don’t know what’s wrong. We bought the best quality kitten foods, the brands you recommended, in several flavors. They don’t seem to like any of them. We’re stymied. Completely mystified.”
Lara closed her eyes and took in a calming breath. “By we, do you mean you and Ms. Sherman?”
“Yes, of course. Who else would I mean?”
Lara thought for a moment. “Deanna, are there a lot of cable TV trucks at your place?” She was already calculating how best to get to Deanna’s without navigating a sea of reporters.
“There are,” Deanna said, her quiet tone layered with bitterness. “I should be used to it, but this is really awful. The moment I try to peek outside they rush forward in a wave and shout questions at me. One of them asked me if I killed Donald Waitt.” A small sob escaped her.
Oh, boy. Lara blew out a breath. “Deanna, is there another way to get to your home?” Lara thought she remembered seeing a narrow service road that snaked around from the rear of the cemetery.
“Yes, there’s a windy dirt road that trickles right into the cemetery. Unfortunately, that whole area is still patrolled by police cars. They’ll probably stop you before you get very far.”
“Is there a way to let them know I’ll be coming? I might be bringing an associate with me.”
“Fran?”
“No, a new employee.”
“I have a contact number for the state police investigator,” Deanna said. “I’ll let him know you’re coming so his officers can let you through. Of course there’s always the possibility he’ll refuse. If he does, I’ll call you right back.” She gave Lara instructions for locating the access road.
Lara disconnected and went to back to Kayla. “I have a favor to ask. Are you willing to eat your PBJ in the car and go on a mission with me? We’ll be back in plenty of time for Catalina and Bitsy’s appointment.”
Kayla’s eyes widened behind her glasses. “You bet I am.”
They quickly locked up the house and hopped into the Saturn. Kayla looked like an eager puppy on her way for a romp in the park. She gobbled down her sandwich in two minutes flat, wiping grape jelly from her mouth with the napkin her gram had packed for her.
Lara hadn’t gotten a return call from Deanna, so she assumed the police investigator intended to let them drive onto the property. She was too anxious to eat her own sandwich. If the kittens weren’t hungry, then something had to be wrong.
Following Deanna’s instructions, she located the cemetery road, but not without some difficulty. It was tucked behind a stand of towering pines that only someone familiar with the property would know how to find.
Lara gripped the wheel tightly as she steered the car along the rutted access way. The Saturn rocked like a ship on a choppy sea. She had to slow her pace several times.
“I hope you don’t bust an axle,” Kayla said nervously. “This road is a nightmare.”
They breathed a collective sigh when the rear of the cemetery came into view. “Sorry, but we’ll have to hike it from here,” Lara said.
Kayla grinned. “No problem. I run four miles every morning.”
Lara spied a uniformed trooper motioning her into the cemetery. A shudder ripped through her. In her mind’s eye, she saw Donald Waitt with that knife, or whatever it was, sticking out of his neck.
The trooper waved an arm at them, then trotted over. Lara powered down her window. A wave of July heat rolled in.
“Ms. Caphart, I presume?” He was thirtysomething, with a blond brush cut and startling blue eyes. Tiny beads of sweat dotted his forehead above his aviator sunglasses.
“Yes,” she said, “we’re from the High Cliff Shelter. Ms. Daltry is expecting us. She has an issue with her new kittens, and we’re here to help.”
The trooper stared into the back seat for what seemed at least a minute. For a few heart-stopping seconds, Lara was afraid she’d over-explained. Then, flitting his gaze over Kayla, he directed them to the path that led to the back entrance of the mansion. “Thanks,” Lara said.
They exited the car and Lara stared out past the cemetery. A row of cable TV trucks crowded the roadway in front of the stone mansion. Clusters of people milled about. Lara couldn’t make out any faces, but their numbers alone felt intimidating.
“Let’s hope none of the reporters spot us,” Lara said. “That’s all we’d need—to be chased by paparazzi!”
“I can’t believe I’m about to enter Deanna Daltry’s home,” Kayla squealed.
“I know. That’s how I felt on Monday. Remember, though, we’re here to help the kittens, and figure out why they’re not eating. They were scarfing food like little piglets before we brought them here.”
Kayla adopted a serious tone. “I understand. I’m here to assist.”
The sun baked Lara’s face and arms as they made the trek along the worn path to the rear of house. Fortunately, she’d applied her daily dose of sunscreen. Her fair skin, dotted with a smattering of freckles, was a magnet for sunburn.
It was at least five minutes before they came up behind the mansion. A grasshopper leaped in front of Lara, and Kayla giggled. The young woman blinked as they reached the slate walkway to the rear entrance.
All around, wildflowers bloomed in colorful clusters. Lara didn’t know most of the varieties, but she recognized the mammoth gold sunflowers, and the willowy lupine that was so prolific in New Hampshire. A pale yellow butterfly danced on the tip of a golden daisy, and a pair of gray squirrels chased each other over the granite bench adjacent to the back entryway. It was a scene so picturesque Lara knew she wanted to paint it. She was tempted to take a pic with her phone, but decided against it. She didn’t know who might be watching their every move.
As if to prove her point, Nancy Sherman appeared suddenly in the doorway. Unsmiling, she stood motionless unt
il Lara and Kayla reached the entrance. She reminded Lara of a stern overseer in a grim gothic novel.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Sherman,” Lara said, and introduced Kayla. “I understand the kittens haven’t been eating.”
Nancy Sherman scowled. “They’ve barely touched their food. They sniff at it like it’s poison. Follow me.”
Lara felt her insides drop. She looked at Kayla, who was gawking at Nancy with an odd expression. Had she met her before?
They followed Nancy up a rear staircase, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. When they reached the second story, Nancy opened the door and led them down the carpeted hallway to a room Lara knew was different from the kittens’ original space.
“Deanna’s waiting for you in here,” Nancy said, her hand gripping the doorknob. “Against my advice, she’s already moved the kittens.” She knocked at the door and opened it without waiting for a response.
From the feminine décor and gorgeously appointed accessories, Lara knew they were seeing Deanna’s bedroom.
“Lara, come in!” Deanna said, swinging her slender legs off the lavender spread that covered her king-size bed. Dressed in casual jersey shorts and a matching, sleeveless T-shirt, her silver hair was slightly disheveled and her face devoid of makeup. Atop the bed, Noodle and Doodle were tugging at opposite corners of a decorative pillow.
“Hi, Deanna. Hey, look at you guys,” Lara said, grinning at the kittens. She introduced Deanna and Kayla to one another, and Deanna immediately hugged the young woman. “A vet tech student, isn’t that marvelous. How lucky the shelter is to have you!”
Kayla flushed and pushed her glasses up on her nose. “Thank you, Ms. Daltry, but I’m the lucky one.” She flashed a smile at Lara.
Lara couldn’t stop staring around the room. The white furnishings were ornately carved, and a loveseat upholstered in pale lavender velvet rested beneath two towering windows. A delicate chandelier shimmered over the center of the room. On a throw rug near the bathroom, the door to which hung open, were two shallow ceramic dishes—one filled with water and the other with the obvious dregs of a can of wet kitten food. A huge dent had been made in the food supply—the dish was nearly empty.
“You changed their food and water bowls,” Lara said. “Are they eating now?”
“They sure are,” Deanna said. “For some reason, the move made all the difference. Nancy had a conniption when I brought them in here, but I told her it wasn’t her decision to make.” Deanna flitted a hand toward the bathroom. “Their litter box is in my bathroom now. I’m not sure if they’ve used it yet.”
Lara sniffed the air. A sneaky suspicion was crawling up her spine.
Kayla had gone over to the bed and was totally engrossed in playing with Noodle and Doodle.
“Mind if I check out the other room?” Lara asked. “I want to try to figure out why they weren’t eating in there.”
“Be my guest,” Deanna said.
The moment Lara entered the kittens’ original room, a sharp smell assaulted her senses. She recognized it instantly—chlorine.
Frowning, she went over to the original food bowls, which still sat, untouched. She lifted the bowl of kitten kibble to her nose. “Good glory,” she muttered to herself.
In the bathroom, the same powerful odor was even more persistent. It appeared that every surface had been washed down with a heavy-handed dose of bleach.
“I suppose I’ll get blamed for this.”
“Ach!” Lara whipped around to see Nancy Sherman standing directly behind her. “Good heavens, you scared me. I-I didn’t hear you come in.”
The housekeeper’s thin lips curled into a snarl. Her face reddened under her dull black hair. “Those creatures were making a godawful mess in here. In my opinion,” she went on, “which apparently counts for little, bleach is the only thing strong enough to kill the germs.”
“Ms. Sherman—Nancy,” Lara said. “Noodle and Doodle have been given a clean bill of health by our veterinarian. They’re due for a second set of shots, and of course Doodle needs to be neutered and Noodle needs to be spayed. But we wouldn’t have allowed them to be adopted if they weren’t in excellent health. Did you wash their bowls with a strong solution of bleach?”
“Of course I did. They’re animals; they’re not humans. And now Deanna has sullied her lovely porcelain dishes with cat food and cat germs. It’s a travesty!”
Nancy Sherman was clearly on a distant wavelength from Lara. And while Lara’s patience was wearing thin, she knew she couldn’t entirely blame Nancy. The woman had evidently been raised to believe animals were unclean and should not be allowed inside.
“Nancy,” Lara said gently, “a good washing with soap and water would have accomplished the same thing, and without irritating the kittens’ senses. Cats are hypersensitive to odors.”
“As am I,” Nancy said crisply.
Lara sighed. They were at an impasse. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to Deanna.”
“Of course you do,” she shot at Lara. “You want her to fire me, don’t you?”
Lara shook her head. “Not at all. She obviously has faith in your abilities, and it’s not my place to say otherwise. But I do need to go over some…procedures with her. For the sake of the kittens,” she emphasized.
With that, Lara swept past her and went back to Deanna’s bedroom. She couldn’t help smiling when she saw Kayla sitting on the floor, Noodle and Doodle curled up together in the hollow of her crossed legs. Deanna beamed down at them from the edge of the bed, her legs tucked primly beneath her. When she spied Lara, she motioned her over. “Can we talk? Privately?” she added.
They went into an anteroom, a dressing room, apparently, and sat on a low bench. “Lara, I’m afraid things are escalating out there.” Her voice shook. She tipped her head toward the window, which faced the front yard of the mansion. “Those news trucks have planted themselves there for the long haul. And they must have ordered pizza, because a delivery car pulled up a short while ago. Oh, Lara, I’m literally a prisoner here!”
Lara’s heart sank. “I’m sorry, Deanna. I wish I could help, but I’m not sure what I can do. Did the police tell you not to leave?”
“No, in fact they’ve been very accommodating. They’re going to bring my car back later.”
Lara had almost forgotten about the Mercedes. The threat scrawled on Deanna’s car window had taken a back seat to the murder. “Did they have any luck tracking down the vandal?” Lara asked hopefully.
“No, none at all. I’m grateful you reported the man who was hanging around that afternoon, though I suspect he was an innocent bystander.”
“He probably was,” Lara agreed. “But I didn’t want to leave any stones unturned, just in case.”
Deanna dabbed a fingertip to one eye. “You’ve been so wonderful, Lara. Someday I hope to repay you for all your many kindnesses.”
Lara squeezed the actress’s hand. “Taking good care of your furbabies is the only payback I need.” She explained briefly about the problem with Nancy’s heavy-handed use of a chlorine-based cleaner.
“I wondered about that,” Deanna said. “Then I got consumed with this sad murder business, and I’m afraid I let Nancy take over. It won’t happen again, I assure you.” She set her fine-boned jaw in a resolute line. “The kittens are under my care now. Nancy will not be dealing with them.”
Inwardly, Lara sighed with relief, but she knew Deanna couldn’t be home 24/7. How would they fare if Deanna had to leave for any length of time? She’d have to find a tactful way to broach the subject with the actress.
“Another thing,” Deanna said. “And I know this sounds silly with everything else that’s going on, but when I was at the shelter on Friday, I noticed you have a board showing pictures of adopted cats and kittens with their moms and dads. I never had a chance to take one to send you, plus I’m not very goo
d at taking selfies.”
Lara grinned. “No problem. How about if I take a few pics now? Then we’ll choose one for me to print out and post.”
“Excellent idea!”
They returned to the main part of the bedroom, where Deanna posed with Noodle and Doodle for several cell phone photos. After several shots, they agreed on the last one—a pic of Deanna showing off her best Hollywood smile, the kittens tucked under her chin like a furry scarf.
“I’ll print it out when I get home and put it up on the board,” Lara promised.
Kayla joining in, they chatted a while longer about the kittens, and how to make their new environment as stress-free as possible. Lara glanced at her phone. It was after one-thirty. She made a quick call to Amy Glindell, their veterinarian, asking if they could be a tad late with Catalina and her kitten.
“No problem,” the receptionist assured her. “For some reason, everyone’s late today.”
After exchanging goodbyes with Deanna, Lara and Kayla retraced their path to the Saturn. The trooper who’d stopped them earlier merely waved at them from a distance.
“That place was spectacular,” Kayla said when they were back on the main drag, “but I don’t think I’d ever want to live there.” She bit her lip and frowned.
“It’s not exactly my style, either,” Lara agreed, something about Kayla’s expression bothering her. “My aunt’s Folk Victorian is so much cozier. Feels more like a real home. By the way, do you know Nancy Sherman from someplace? I thought I saw a flash of recognition on your face.”
Kayla turned and stared out her window. After a few moments she said, “No. I thought she looked familiar but I was mistaken. I decided I didn’t know her after all.”
The remainder of the afternoon went by quickly. Kayla handled the veterinary appointment on her own, while Lara worked in her studio for a while.
The first thing Lara had done was to print out the pic she’d taken of Deanna with her kittens and tack it onto the shelter’s corkboard. Once the board filled up, she’d have to figure out an alternative way to display the photos—maybe some kind of electronic viewer? For now, the corkboard did the trick.
