The Cats & the Riddle

by Jan Fields

  She opened cupboards and peered in mournfully, and then she walked to the refrigerator and did the same thing. Nothing looked particularly tasty. How is it that I keep going to the store, but I can still look into a half-full fridge and find nothing to eat? she thought.

  Closing the fridge, Annie pulled out a cookbook and began flipping through it, looking for muffin recipes. She might not be nearly the baker that Alice was, but she could certainly manage something tasty to go with a second cup of coffee.

  She had just flipped past banana nut muffins (she had no bananas or nuts on hand), lemon poppy seed muffins (no lemon juice or poppy seeds) and cinnamon apple muffins (no applesauce), when she heard a knock at the front door. Annie looked down at her robe and slippers and moaned. There was something about not getting dressed the second she got out of bed that brought morning callers.

  She was hurrying to the front door when she spotted Alice on the porch with a basket. Annie quickly pulled the door open. “Please, tell me you’ve come to rescue me with muffins!”

  Alice laughed and held up the basket. “Zucchini chocolate chip muffins to be exact. I used dark chocolate chips, so we can pretend it’s health food. All you have to supply is the coffee—I ran out.”

  “Sounds like my kind of health food,” Annie said as she waved Alice into the house with a flourish. “I have hot coffee just waiting for a muffin accompaniment. How did you manage to run out of coffee? That’s like Stella running out of yarn!”

  “I’m trying to cut back,” Alice said. “I didn’t buy as much so I could ration it a bit. But all I managed to do was run out. How do people who don’t drink coffee keep from walking into walls?”

  “I don’t know,” Annie admitted as they reached the kitchen. She grabbed another mug and poured two cups of coffee. “I like a good cup of tea, but I didn’t sleep well last night, and I definitely need coffee.”

  “You too?” Alice said. “I kept having this dream where the little needle-felted cats grew and grew. Then they came alive and ran amuck in Stony Point.”

  Annie smiled. “You get points for interesting. Mine was just about chasing a woman I assume was Candace around town while she road on the world’s slowest bicycle. I woke up feeling incompetent—and tired.”

  The two women slid into the chairs at the table, and Alice folded back the tea towel that covered the muffins. “It sounds like we both could use some success in solving this mystery,” Alice said. She reached into the pocket of her jacket and unfolded a sheet of paper. “I did a search online after I left you last night, and I have the names and phone numbers of every place I could find where people work with children. I figured we could split them up and make calls—after we eat breakfast.”

  Annie reached into the basket and pulled out a warm muffin. She took a bite and moaned at the tender cake and its slightly soft chips. The sweetness of the muffins contrasted perfectly with the slightly bitter chocolate. “This is wonderful.”

  Alice took a bite of her own. “Oh yeah! I can feel the antioxidants racing through my body. Health food is the only way to live.”

  They ate in rapt silence for a moment, and then Annie took a sip of coffee and set the rest of her muffin on her plate. “I got a very odd call about Candace Caine this morning. I couldn’t really tell who the caller was, but he or she told me to leave Candace alone.”

  Alice’s eyebrows raised. “Maybe it was Candace. Why couldn’t you tell if it was a man or woman?”

  Before Annie could begin describing the weird whispery voice, the phone rang. “I’m so popular today,” Annie said as she picked up the phone.

  It was Dr. Martin. “I’m sorry to call so early, Annie,” she said. “I fully intended to call last night, but I had to go to a little home farm on the edge of town. One of their goats was having a difficult time birthing her first kid, and I was there for quite a while.”

  “That’s perfectly all right,” Annie said. “I hope the little goat was OK.”

  “Oh, it was twins, a little billy and a little doe,” Dr. Martin said. “Everything came out just fine—if you will excuse the pun.”

  “I’m glad,” Annie said. “I’ve always thought baby goats are adorable.”

  “Those two were, for sure,” the vet agreed.

  “I actually wanted to ask you about Boots,” Annie said. “Do you remember who gave Boots to Gram? I know she came from the Friends of St. Francis.”

  “You know, Betsy did tell me that a very kind lady talked her into adding a cat to her life,” Dr. Martin said. “I never met the woman, but Betsy clearly thought well of her. Of course, your grandmother tended to see the best in everyone, didn’t she?”

  “She did,” Annie agreed, feeling a surge of disappointment that another possible clue hadn’t panned out. “Gram was very special that way. Are you sure she didn’t mention the name of the woman?”

  “Oh dear,” Dr. Martin said, “you do have a lot of faith in my memory. Now that I think of it, she might have. It seems like I have some kind of word association of her name and Christmas. Maybe it was Noelle? No, no, I’m sure that’s not it. Maybe Holly?” She paused, and Annie could picture the vet’s face in fixed concentration. “I’m sorry, Annie. I can’t do better than that. It might have been Holly, but it might not either.”

  “That’s all right,” Annie said. “It’s actually a help.”

  After she signed off, she looked into Alice’s inquiring face. “She thinks Candace might be going by Holly, but she’s not sure. She thought her name reminded her of Christmas somehow. She never actually saw her though.”

  “Oh well,” Alice said. “At least we can try the Christmas name angle when we make our calls. And we’ll start the calls as soon as you tell me every detail about your morning mystery call. Demanding phone calls must mean we’re getting closer.”

  “It might,” Annie said as she fetched the coffeepot and split the last of the coffee between them. She repeated the words of the message and described the whispery voice.

  “Sounds spooky,” Alice said. “I love spooky.”

  “It was a little disconcerting,” Annie said, “but at least the person didn’t make any threats. I don’t really feel like it brought us any closer to an answer, however.”

  “Maybe this will,” Alice said as she tapped the call sheet. They split the list of possible businesses and started making calls. Alice used her cellphone, and Annie used her landline. Annie let Alice go first, so she could pattern her calls after her more socially adept friend.

  “Hello,” Alice said, her voice cheerful. “I’m looking for a woman who I believe may work for you. She’s very good with children, but quite shy with adults. Her name is something Christmasy like Holly, maybe. I heard such good things about her way with children.”

  Annie waited tensely as Alice listened to the person on the other end of the phone. “I see,” she said. “Yes, I suppose the woman’s name might be Lily. She’s a short-ish woman in her forties? No? Oh, no, I’m sure that’s too young to be the woman I’m looking for. Thanks so much for your time. I must have gotten the business name wrong.”

  She drew a thick line through the day care’s name. “One down,” she said, “and I’d rather not think about how many we have to go.”

  Alice and Annie worked doggedly down the list. Most of the people were very polite and seemed truly sorry that they didn’t know anyone fitting the description. A few offered names that fit in some way, but clearly were too young or too old.

  Finally Alice got a possible hit from a call to a children’s theater group. “Yes, I would guess that Mary might be a Christmassy name,” Alice said. “Is Mary in her forties? She is? And shy? Excellent. Could I possibly speak with her?”

  Alice crossed her fingers on her left hand and waved it back and forth as she waited for Mary to come to the phone. “Hello, Mary? I’m looking for an old friend of a friend. Did you happen to know Betsy Holden in Stony Point?” Alice’s shoulders sank. “No? Have you ever been to Stony Point? Oh, really, yo
u moved up from Georgia last year? Well, if you ever do get a chance to visit Stony Point, I believe you may like it. I’m sorry for bothering you.” Alice paused for a long moment as the woman talked. Finally she spoke, her voice rushed as if trying to slip into the conversation. “Those sound like wonderful plays. I’ll check out the website and think about it. Yes, I’m sure the children are very talented. Yes, well, I need to go. Right, thank you, Mary. Yes, thank you. Bye.”

  Alice dropped the phone on the table and leaned back in her chair. “If that woman is shy, I had trouble seeing it.”

  They returned to the list and managed to call every single place by noon. Candace Caine didn’t appear to be associated with any of them. “Maybe Adam Smithfield was wrong,” Alice said finally. “Maybe she isn’t working with children anymore.”

  “Maybe,” Annie said reluctantly. “He seemed so sure.”

  “Well, we definitely gave it the old college try,” Alice said. “I’ve talked until I’m hoarse.”

  “We’ve run into so many dead ends,” Annie said. “Maybe we’re not meant to find Candace Caine. Maybe she deserves her privacy.”

  Alice began folding the tea towel back into the now-empty basket. “You’ll figure out something,” she said. “You always do. Hey, would you like to go to the church bazaar together tomorrow? I think we deserve a treat after all that hard work. And since the bazaar starts tomorrow, it’s the perfect goodie. I just need to go finish up my taxes so I can mail them off. Though if I find out that I owe anything, I’m probably going to be too depressed to buy much.”

  “You keep such great records,” Annie said. “I would seriously be surprised if you find out you owe anything. I wish I had everything so well organized. I’d be scared to death to do my own taxes.”

  “It’s easier if you keep up all year long,” Alice admitted. “So, are we on for the bazaar in the morning? I’ll provide breakfast again.”

  “You didn’t need the extra temptation,” Annie said, “but I’ll certainly not pass up a chance for more of your fantastic baking. I’ll be happy to go to the bazaar with you.”

  After all, it would take her mind off how horribly they were failing with this mystery. How could one person be so hard to find?

  22

  After Alice left, Annie considered working on more bazaar toys. Working on a crochet project was normally very soothing when she felt keyed up, and she definitely felt as if she were in a total muddle. Many times, problems that seemed monumental grew much more manageable after a few rows on one of the simple baby blankets she’d made so many of. Annie smiled. She wished her high-energy daughter could settle down long enough to take up crochet. She might find it helped unravel the knots she’d tied herself into.

  Annie tapped her foot as she hovered next to her project bag. She felt something tugging at her pant leg and looked down to find Boots slapping at her tapping foot. “I’m one to be thinking critical thoughts about LeeAnn’s restlessness. I can’t even stand still. I don’t think I would be too successful at crocheting right now,” she said. “You know, if you were a dog, we could just take a walk.”

  Boots looked up at her and meowed plaintively.

  “Right—if I stay in the house, you’re going to talk me into feeding you again. I guess I’ll take a walk by myself.” She took a light jacket off a peg by the door and headed outside. The recent rains had cooled the air, and there was more of the usual spring nip in the air. Annie zipped her jacket up high to keep the wind off her neck. With the chill, she definitely didn’t want to brave the beach.

  She crossed the street and stepped over the loose chain that stretched across the gravel road leading to the lighthouse. She didn’t plan to make the climb all the way to the lighthouse, but the gravel road would give her some exercise without the annoyance of passing cars.

  She’d barely started when she heard the honk of a car horn on the street behind her. She turned to look and recognized Adam Smithfield’s rental car. Annie waved and was going to turn back to her walk when the driver’s door opened and Adam got out. “May I speak to you?” he called.

  “I was about to take a walk,” Annie called back, not really wanting to deal with the moral ambiguity of how much to tell him about Candace.

  “May I walk with you?” he asked.

  Annie sighed. “Of course.”

  Adam unhooked the chain blocking off the road and pulled in, parking off the road on the other side of the two stone pillars. He got out and called, “Will it be OK for me to leave my car here?”

  Annie nodded. “The road is chained because it’s narrow and tends to be treacherous in storms. They don’t want people using it to drive up to the lighthouse and end up on the rocks at the bottom of the cliff.”

  “That does sound dreadful,” Adam said. “Do you have many accidents there?”

  Annie shook her head. “But the ones we have tend to be fatal, so the chain is a good idea.”

  Adam hurried over to her side, and they began the walk up the steep road. On one side, the road was bordered by woods that sloped gently upward, and on the other was the steep drop to the beach below. Washouts from the fierce New England storms had really made the road too narrow to be safe for vehicular traffic. Annie knew the Historical Society maintained the lighthouse, and she marveled at the nerve it must take to drive up to the lighthouse these days.

  “Do you walk up here often?” Adam asked, slightly winded.

  “Not really,” Annie said. “As you can see, it’s pretty steep, but I was feeling restless today. I probably won’t walk all the way to the lighthouse. I have to meet my friend Alice for lunch in an hour.” It was a little white lie, but she thought it was a good idea for him to think that someone would be expecting her soon.

  Adam nodded. They walked silently for a few minutes, but Annie sensed Adam had something to say. Finally, he ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up in wild spikes. “I talked to the women at the library again,” he said. “I was sure Candace must be involved with kids there somehow. The young woman in the children’s section was very excited about their little cat sculpture and insisted I look at it. The handwriting on the card was Candace’s. I would recognize it anywhere.”

  Annie nodded without speaking.

  “When I mentioned that, she said she knew it already,” he said. “She told me all about her discovery and your visit. Why didn’t you tell me that you knew Candace was in Stony Point?”

  “I did hint at it,” Annie said.

  “I’ve been going mad with worry and frustration. This isn’t a game, Mrs. Dawson. What exactly do you know about Candace? Where is she?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” Annie said. “I know she’s here and has been here for quite a few years. She knew my grandmother. She gave her Boots. And she gave me one of those lovely little cat sculptures in Gram’s honor. But I don’t know what name she is using now. I truly don’t know where she is.” Annie held off on telling him she might be going by a name that might be associated with Christmas. That seemed too vague to be any help.

  “That still doesn’t tell me why you weren’t honest with me,” he said.

  “Frankly, Adam, I don’t know you,” Annie told him, “and I don’t really know what happened between you and Candace. I don’t know why she’s hiding from you, and I don’t know if I’d be doing her any favors if I helped you find her. I don’t know what she’s afraid of.”

  He looked at her in stunned silence. “I would never hurt Candace.”

  “Then why is she hiding from you?” Annie asked. “What is she so afraid of?”

  “What happened between Candace and me is private,” he said. “Unlike Americans, I don’t feel the need to broadcast every intimate detail of my life across a dozen social media websites. I believe private things should remain private.”

  “That’s your right,” Annie said calmly.

  “But you won’t help me.”

  “Only if I am certain that helping you doesn’t mean hurting someone else—some
one who was clearly a good friend of my grandmother.”

  Adam stopped walking and he loomed over Annie, his voice low and tight. “Are you sure your interest is really Candace’s welfare? I heard about your fondness for ‘mysteries.’ Maybe that’s just another word for meddling in the private affairs of others. Maybe you’re just nosy.”

  Annie stepped back a pace and shook her head. “I believe we’re done talking.”

  She turned and started back down the road. Adam reached out and grabbed her arm. “Tell me where Candace is.”

  She stared down at his hand until he let go of her arm. Then she looked up at him. “I already told you. I honestly don’t know. And if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you without her express permission. You think I’m a busybody? Well, I’m beginning to think you might be a bully, Mr. Smithfield. And I am not going to point a bully toward a shy woman who has never done me any harm.”

  “You’re making a mistake,” he said intensely.

  Annie smiled. “It wouldn’t be the first time. But this time, if I err, I will err on the side of caution!”

  She turned her back on him and continued down the road. Adam rushed by her, striding rapidly down the road, nearly slipping once or twice on the loose gravel. Well, she thought, it’s not a real mystery if I don’t manage to make someone furious at me.

  When she reached the end of the road, she saw that Adam’s car was gone. She was glad of that. She’d had enough of that conversation. So much for a relaxing walk, she thought as she crossed over into her yard.

  She decided on yard work as another way of unwinding. The spring rains brought down a nearly endless supply of small sticks that would create problems later when it grew warm enough to begin mowing. Annie gathered sticks by the armloads and carried them back to the compost piles where she dumped her leaves in the fall. There was something cathartic about snapping the sticks into small pieces before tossing them into the bins.

  She continued poking around in the yard, pursuing small projects until it grew dark, and she realized she was starving. She’d worked right through lunch, though when she remembered the whole basket of muffins she’d eaten with Alice, skipping lunch didn’t really seem like a hardship. She went in to fix supper while Boots complained about being left alone for hours without food, or at least that’s what Annie assumed all the aggressive meowing was about.