The Cat, the Vagabond and the Victim: A Cats in Trouble Mystery

Home > Other > The Cat, the Vagabond and the Victim: A Cats in Trouble Mystery > Page 23
The Cat, the Vagabond and the Victim: A Cats in Trouble Mystery Page 23

by Leann Sweeney


  Who was she talking about? I didn’t know, but she was concerned about taking three lives and staging the scene by herself to make it look like drug dealers had broken in. That meant we might have time to escape or talk her out of all this. But looking at her cold eyes and set jaw, I had serious doubts I could talk her out of anything. I couldn’t lose hope, couldn’t let the fear that chilled me to the marrow take over.

  She stared back at me. “You’re such a well-known cat lover. How long would it take to drown Clyde?” Her sugary tone as she made this threat made me want to vomit.

  I closed my eyes briefly, determined not to let her bait me. She had help from whoever had taken Clyde—from the person Candace could be arresting this very minute. The endgame was to get hold of Mr. Jeffrey’s money. But why use such desperate measures? Why all the killing?

  I briefly looked at Theo when she checked her phone again. His face had paled and his golden eyes looked as if they were glazing over. He’d lost too much blood. I had to do something. But how could I stop this woman?

  Two could play the baiting game, I decided. “You knew the money would go to Theo because your brother couldn’t stand you, could he? My only question is why would he ever let a person like you take his cat?”

  I saw color rise on her throat and reach her cheeks. I’d gotten to her. “A person like me? What is that supposed to mean? I was nothing but good to my brother and he then tells me he’s leaving his money to a damn cat? I need that money.”

  She came closer as she said this, the gun leading the way. I gripped the sides of the chair and realized the umbrella handle was right by my hand.

  Without another thought, I whipped it out and swung hard, striking her wrist with a thwack. She screamed in pain and the gun toppled to the floor. But before I could get up, she was already scrambling after it.

  That was when Birdie, every generous, beautiful pound of her, landed on top of Millicent, pressing her facedown on the wood floor.

  I rose quickly, not caring how much it hurt—and oh, did it hurt. I grabbed the gun.

  We all ignored Millicent’s muffled cries.

  Birdie adjusted her knee into the middle of Millicent’s back and pinned both her wrists to the floor with her two chubby but strong hands. “Take care of my son, Miss Jillian. I got this witch.”

  I took several steps in Theo’s direction, but he was pointing at the telephone on the stand in the hallway to my right. In a rasp that frightened me more than the gun I now held, he said, “Call for help.”

  As Birdie, the same woman I’d once helped upstairs and believed to be a frail arthritic, continued to keep Millicent contained, I made the call. Then I hurried to the kitchen for towels and ice, which I hoped would help stop the bleeding. I held on to the gun and used my free hand to wrap a frozen bag of peas in a dishcloth. When I pressed it to Theo’s wound, he only nodded his thanks. He was fading.

  The sound of sirens approaching couldn’t have taken more than two minutes. The first person through the door was fireman and good friend Billy Cranor. Billy said, “You want to hand me that, Jillian?” He nodded at the weapon. “Real easy. Point the barrel down.”

  I’d never let go of the gun and was pointing it at Millicent. I vaguely recalled telling her not to move or I’d shoot her. Thank goodness she believed me and stayed still, because I could never have pulled the trigger.

  Marcy and Jake, two paramedics I also knew well, came rushing in right after Billy took the gun from me and unloaded it. Only then did he take over for Birdie to restrain Millicent.

  As Marcy and Jake assessed Theo, I helped Birdie get up. My fireman hero was now holding down a ranting Millicent with plenty of force.

  Birdie went straight for Theo, but Jake held up a hand. “Please, ma’am. Help him by letting us do our job.”

  “Yes, sir. Most certainly.” She slumped into the chair I’d vacated, tears streaming down her face.

  Lois arrived seconds later. I do believe I have never been so happy to see a pair of handcuffs in my life. After securing Millicent’s hands behind her back with Billy’s help, she lifted the woman off the floor like a rag doll and read her the Miranda rights. “Now march your ass into the dining room and sit yourself down.” Lois pushed the woman in the back to encourage her.

  As she passed us, Millicent turned her venom on Birdie. “This is your fault. It’s all on you.”

  “If I were you, ma’am, I’d be thinking real hard about my right to remain silent. Keep moving.”

  Once Millicent and her personal police escort left the room, I felt like I could breathe again. Billy stood guarding the gun that now sat on an end table. It would have to be bagged as evidence. He was well versed in police procedure and understood the less it was handled, the better. No one would be getting near that thing and if I never saw it again, it would be too soon.

  We watched as the paramedics set up an IV and placed oxygen cannulas in Theo’s nose. The oxygen seemed to bother Birdie more than the blood that had soaked through the pressure dressing Marcy had taped onto Theo’s shoulder.

  She bowed her head. “Dear Lord in heaven, I don’t ask you for much. I’m asking now. Please save my son.”

  I rubbed circles on Birdie’s back and she reached back and gripped my hand tightly. They had just put Theo on the stretcher when Kara burst into the room, looking frantic.

  “Jillian, what’s going on here? Are you okay? When I heard the police scanner go off with this address, I freaked. Especially when B.J. said GSW.”

  Thanks to Tom, I understood that GSW stood for gunshot wound, but I hoped the reference went over Birdie’s head. She was upset enough already.

  But clearly not too upset to tell Kara, “Your stepmama done right fine by us, Miss Kara. You got lots to be proud of.”

  “You didn’t do so bad yourself,” I said. “Are you a secret ninja?”

  Birdie smiled a bit, but I could tell her thoughts were with her son.

  Marcy said, “Mrs. Roberts, do you drive? You can follow us to the hospital.”

  She stood, her gaze intent on Theo. His eyes were closed and I assumed they’d given him pain medicine. “I can’t ride with him? Make sure he’s okay?”

  “Sorry, ma’am. But you can stay close behind us. We’ll be working on him all the way to the hospital, but we need to move fast.” They began wheeling the stretcher into the narrow hall and it was a miracle the thing fit around the corners of the old house.

  “Wait,” Birdie said. “I have to find my keys. And the car is in the back in the garage and—”

  Kara took Birdie’s hand. “I’ll drive you.” Kara looked at me. “You want to come, too?”

  “I believe I’ll need to give a statement to the officer waiting in the dining room to transport her suspect. Although there is no doubt this suspect will be convicted of what she did tonight.”

  Kara’s eyes widened and she whispered, “Who is it?”

  “The high-and-mighty Millicent Boatman.” Birdie, her eyes misting, didn’t bother keeping her voice down. “I will gladly take you up on your offer, Miss Kara. I doubt if I could get my car out of the garage, my hands are shaking so. But can we hurry? My son needs me.”

  They followed the stretcher out of the house and I wondered what officer would come to help Lois transport a prisoner she certainly didn’t want to haul off alone. Candace probably still had her hands full rounding up Millicent’s accomplice. My question was answered when Morris arrived, looking like he’d been asleep when the call for help came in.

  He nodded at me and Billy, and I pointed toward the dining room. “They’re in there.”

  Tucking the tail of his uniform shirt in at the back, he went in the direction I indicated. Over his shoulder he said, “Tom picked me up so me and Lois can take her squad car to haul this idiot off to jail. Seems Tom and Candace have had a night of it, too. He’ll be right in.”

  When Morris disappeared, Billy said, “What in the heck is this all about, Jillian?”

  “In a word,
greed. But I don’t have all the answers and I’m not sure anyone will until—”

  Tom walked in, carrying Clyde. If my backside could have taken one more round of torture, I might have collapsed on the chair in relief.

  He wrapped his arms around me with Clyde between us. “I am not letting you out of my sight for the rest of our lives.” He rested his forehead against mine.

  Clyde apparently wasn’t thrilled being squished between us. He struggled to free himself, jumped down and headed straight for the chair where Theo had been sitting. Blood dripped from a spot on the left arm of the chair. Clyde sniffed at it before leaping onto its seat. He put one huge paw on the blood and sat staring at me like a sentry. The blood belonged to someone he’d traveled two hundred miles to find.

  See, Clyde had finally found a small part of Mr. Jeffrey here.

  I blinked back tears and Tom pulled me to him again.

  Thirty-one

  Once Morris bagged the gun, took pictures of the broken front door and collected the spent shell casing in the hall, they took Millicent out to the squad car. He gave Billy a roll of crime scene tape and asked him to do the honors before they left. Billy said he’d take a few minutes and find a temporary fix for the broken window and we left him to that task, Clyde held tightly in Tom’s arms.

  Morris told me I could give my statement at the station, but I had a million questions swarming around in my head. I wanted answers right now. But getting Millicent out of this house was more important.

  If we hadn’t had two vehicles, Tom could have filled me in on his part of tonight’s adventures in crime. As we walked out to the porch, the pink protective case on my phone almost glowed in the dark. Why couldn’t I have found that thing when I needed it?

  I tried to stoop to pick it up and cried out when my rear end seized up in protest.

  Tom stood on the top step and swiftly turned when I yelped in pain. “What’s wrong, Jilly? Did that woman hurt you?”

  “Long story. It happened earlier. Would you mind picking up my phone? Gosh, I needed it when Theo was shot. And oh, how I wish I could pull up my cat cam and see my fur friends right now.”

  “I’ll have that fixed as soon as possible. You want Clyde to ride with you? That might help.”

  “I could sure use his company for the next few minutes.” Soon, Clyde sat on the van’s passenger seat. He studied me in the glow of the streetlight with what seemed like concern, an interesting addition to his usual smile. Such a great cat. I sure hoped Theo would recover quickly—and he had to be okay. He would. I just felt it. I remembered then that Birdie told me Theo already had a cat. Clyde belonged to Theo now and I was glad he would not be an only “child.” From how quickly he’d bonded with my three, that was perfect.

  I drove almost at a snail’s pace, hoping to avoid a bumpy ride. Tom had to slow down several times, I guess keeping his promise to not let me out of his sight. The unhurried ride also ensured that we wouldn’t run into Millicent during her walk into the interrogation room.

  Thank goodness we went around back to the jail entrance where there was an elevator. I had only two steps to climb rather than the dozen that led up to the courthouse entrance. I clutched Clyde close as we headed down the musty hall leading to the elevator. Tom pushed open a door that said AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.

  An officer I didn’t know sat behind a desk and beyond him were the holding cells. The man waved at Tom. “Need this guy upstairs again?” He nodded back toward the cells.

  “Nope. Just making sure he’s where he’s supposed to be. Check it out, Jilly. There’s your vandal, your killer, your liar, your catnapper, your all-around jerk.”

  Wayne Jeffrey sat in a cell, his back against the wall, fingers laced behind his neck. He didn’t acknowledge us in any way and I was grateful.

  Appropriately, Clyde hissed and Tom quickly shut the door.

  The big boy had dug his claws into my arm but released them as we moved on. I’d been scratched and clawed plenty of times and he’d actually not dug in all the way. It was no big deal compared to the pain from my fall.

  I said, “Thank goodness Dirk wasn’t the killer. After Emily’s visit tonight to Kara’s house and all she told me, I was worried he might have been lying to us all along.”

  “He did lie about one other thing. Apparently Mr. Jeffrey gave Clyde to Dirk. He told Dirk it was a temporary arrangement and that Dirk would understand in good time. But Millicent Boatman insisted on taking the cat, telling Dirk that Clyde would be better off with her because he was too busy with work to care for a pet. A few days later, Clyde disappeared. I’ll bet Millicent and Wayne never counted on that cat traveling all the way back to his home.”

  “So she let Clyde out on purpose—because he was an obstacle to money she wanted?”

  We stopped at the elevator and Tom stabbed the button. “I’m guessing as much. She probably thought he was long gone. See, Wayne told us plenty. He’s decided it’s in his best interest to cooperate in hopes of a plea deal now that he’s been caught red-handed—caught partly thanks to GPS technology he thought he was using for his benefit.”

  As the elevator arrived, I asked, “What does that mean?”

  “We made an assumption—and I should have known better. I’ve been away from the job too long and broke a cardinal cop rule: Never assume. Emily didn’t put that GPS slap-and-go on your car. Wayne did. He’s a pretty tech-savvy guy, does electrical contract work. When we switched the device to Emily’s car, he didn’t even realize he was tracking her rather than you. She was on your tail so much, it made no difference—until she made it to Kara’s house. When she arrived there, he was quite pleased he’d found you and Clyde.”

  The elevator car lurched to a halt and I squeezed my eyes shut. Every little unexpected movement seemed to hurt. Clyde nuzzled my neck and I decided he could get a job as a therapy cat, given that he was that intuitive.

  Tom didn’t need to hear any words. He was pretty intuitive himself. “Jilly, please tell me what happened. I’m worried.”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  “Come on. We’re about to share our lives and you know you can trust me with anything.” He took my elbow and helped me off the elevator.

  As we walked to the police offices, I relented and explained about my fall. “But don’t say anything. I feel so foolish.”

  “I won’t say a word—until I take you to the doctor so you can get this checked out.”

  “Tomorrow, please? I might feel better after a good night’s sleep.”

  “Okay, tomorrow.” He opened the door to the Mercy PD waiting area. Emily, looking like the proverbial drowned rat, sat huddled in the corner with a concerned-looking Dirk.

  She jumped up when she saw us and ran to hug me. Thank goodness I held Clyde and this stopped her. So she gripped my upper arms and squeezed. “Thank goodness you’re okay.”

  I wondered what part she’d played in Wayne’s takedown. Or how they’d taken him down in spite of her might be a better question. But these were only two of my many questions. The most pressing issue right now was whether I could sit long enough to give my statement about the events at Birdie’s house.

  “I am so sorry I took off like I did, Jillian.” Emily sounded contrite.

  “You should be.” Tom didn’t hide his irritation.

  He turned to talk to B.J., who sat at the dispatcher desk. From his obviously unintentional bedhead hairstyle and red-rimmed eyes, I guessed he’d been called in to work tonight just as Morris had.

  Emily lowered her voice. “Tom’s pretty mad at me for leading that despicable man to Kara’s house. But you guys are the ones who put that tracker on my car.”

  “Sorry about the GPS thing, but we thought you put it on my car.”

  She grinned. “Oh, wow. That’s too funny. Makes sense you’d stick it under my bumper. I’d probably do the same thing if our roles were reversed.”

  “It’s all behind us now,” I said. “I’m just relieved you’re all right. What hap
pened when you left Kara’s house?”

  “I followed the guy to a boat launch dock at Mercy Lake. He spotted me, even though I killed my lights and thought he couldn’t see me. Guess I have a lot to learn when it comes to criminals. If Candace and Tom hadn’t shown up right then, I might have ended up at the bottom of the lake—which is where he intended to put poor Clyde.”

  Dirk, who’d been sitting quietly gnawing on a cuticle, said, “Would you mind if I petted Clyde?”

  “Do you want to hold him?” I shuffled toward him. “Be careful, though. You know how he likes to roam.” I smiled and Dirk managed to return a half grin.

  Clyde’s purr came almost instantly when Dirk took the cat in his arms. He buried his face in orange fur and mumbled, “I am so sorry, Clyde.”

  Everyone was full of apologies tonight. But I had the feeling Wayne and Millicent didn’t have any regrets aside from getting caught.

  Candace appeared in the hallway. I was so glad to see her, my smile almost hurt, too.

  She blinked hard and I could have sworn she was about to cry. But she quickly regained her composure. “I should have never told you to talk to Birdie, but if I hadn’t, this wouldn’t have turned into a victory. Thank you, lady. And now, I want to hear what happened tonight right from the horse’s mouth.” She waved me through the swinging gate.

  I asked Dirk if he’d hang on to Clyde and he happily agreed.

  As we walked down the hall, I said, “Is she here?” I nodded to the closed door of one of the interrogation rooms.

  “Yup. Waiting on a public defender, but since we have only two for the whole county, that’ll take a good long while. Morris will be taking her down to the holding cells in a minute.”

  I took my time as Candace led me to the chief’s office and of course she noticed.

  She opened the office door. “You hurt, Jillian?”

  “Took a spill earlier. No big deal—but if I could sit in the boss’s chair, I’d sure appreciate it.”

 

‹ Prev