The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon citm-4

by Leann Sweeney

  “Thanks, Tom,” Finn said. He pulled his plate back and began the job of finishing the remains of chili dogs and fries.

  Thirty-Two

  More than a week passed, with Candace continuing to sort through the evidence against Hilary Roth. Though Bob had played a part in Hilary’s plan to get the money Karen had earmarked for Finn, he was all talk and did nothing he could be arrested for—or nothing Candace could find to indicate a conspiracy. He’d slipped by without consequences—seemingly a pattern for him.

  Kara put out several special editions of the Mercy Messenger as the complete story began to come out. The gossip was still going on at Belle’s Beans, the Main Street Diner and the Finest Catch, as well as all the other spots people gathered in Mercy.

  Dashiell and Yoshi, it turned out, seemed surprisingly compatible. They’d remained at my house since the Bob problem still existed. He was slow to move out of Tom’s place after finding such a comfortable spot to crash. Dashiell wasn’t safe until he left. Tom, meanwhile, spent most of his free time at my place and even bought an Xbox and hooked it up to my flat screen so he and Finn could play games together where pretend swords were the only weapons involved.

  Tonight, however, I’d invited the entire family to dinner, Bob included. It was a risk—especially since Bob thought he was coming alone and the rest of his family had no idea he would be there.

  Ed and Karen arrived early, bringing the catfish Ed, Finn and Tom had caught that morning on one of Ed’s trotlines. Finn and Tom then took off for the mall. Apparently the clothes Kara bought were passable, but not exactly “dope,” as Finn put it.

  Karen brought a casserole of hash browns, sour cream and cheddar cheese, which she said needed only an hour in the oven. More important, she’d brought one of her famous lemon icebox pies. I only had to supply salad, sweet tea and plenty of counter space for Ed to do something he did so well—prepare the fish.

  Karen took Yoshi for a walk to give Ed a little time to get used to the idea of befriending a dog. Seemed he was truly phobic, and it had taken a lot of persuading to get him to come here rather than do the meal at Karen’s house. In the end, he’d said, “How can I refuse Jillian’s invite? She protected Karen and the boy with every tool in her box—including her genius cats.”

  Ed brought his own filet knife and showed me how to prepare a catfish. Four felines were showing a great interest in this process—and I even wondered if they were considering how to manage a filet knife themselves. Syrah, Chablis, Merlot and Dashiell were lined up in a row near Ed, waiting for so much as a morsel of raw fish to drop on the floor.

  “You’re so handy with your knife, Ed Duffy,” I said. “Bet you’ve had plenty of practice.”

  “You betcha,” he said.

  I’d supplied separate flat pans for flour, milk mixed with egg, and bread crumbs to coat the fish. I thought, No wonder I never cook. This room is about to become a fish-fried kitchen.

  Ed drank a Dr Pepper while he worked carefully, piling one pink filet on top of another. When Tom and Finn arrived with department store bags and a couple shoe boxes, they were talkative and happy. I was certain the atmosphere would change once Bob arrived, so I enjoyed their happiness.

  After putting the purchases in the guest room, they sat next to me on the stools at the breakfast bar where we could oversee Ed’s preparations. Tom had grabbed a beer and Finn began downing a Dr Pepper like he’d never had one before.

  “So,” Ed said, skinning one of the few remaining fish adeptly. “Karen won’t talk about everything that happened and I’m pretty confused concerning this woman Hilary who pretended to be her friend all these years. Did she really kill two grown men?”

  Tom took a slug of his beer, then said, “She’s responsible for Roth’s death and did the actual deed on Gannon. Stabbed him with a knife from a set she bought in some tourist-trap housewares store on Main Street. I’m thinking her purchase goes to premeditation—and I like it because they’ll tack on plenty more jail time.”

  “You mean the House and Home store near the end of Main Street?”

  “That’s the one,” Tom said. “Never been in there myself.”

  “How did they find out she bought the knives there?” I asked. “Receipts?”

  “Owner came forward with security camera footage after reading about her arrest in the Messenger,” Tom replied.

  “She confessed, but not to buying the darn knife?” Ed asked.

  “She’s vain. She knew she’d screwed up,” he said. “Anyway, here’s what we now know from Hilary’s confession. She and Nolan were watching Finn closely, but even more so once he turned eighteen. They were worried he’d run off again, especially once he learned about all the money my mom had been saving for him. See, she told Hilary she’d take care of Finn and asked when would be the right time to have a chat with Finn in person. Mom was worried about his schooling. With Hilary not working and Nolan the ex-con not contributing, Mom was justifiably concerned. Hilary was formulating a plan to get her hands on the money, but wasn’t sure how. She needed time to figure it out. So she convinced Mom to wait, saying Finn wasn’t responsible enough to handle money yet. Hilary was planting a seed, hoping Mom would turn the money directly over to her. I’m sure glad she didn’t.”

  “Well, Hilary may have known about all that money, but I sure didn’t,” Ed said.

  “You’re not the only one,” Tom said. “Mom has since told me that because the money didn’t come from my dad and I always said I wanted to take care of myself financially, it wouldn’t be an issue if I didn’t know. She’s right. It’s not.”

  “Typical of Karen not to talk much about such things. Maybe ’cause she knows I’m not concerned with those matters aside from helping her get to her accounts on the computer. A little bit of cash goes a long way in my book.” He looked at Finn and smiled. “Come to my place of business and see how you can stretch a few dollars. You’ll see I’m serious.”

  Finn said, “I’m looking forward to visiting your shop. You got any Xbox games?”

  “Indeed I do,” Ed said. “You wouldn’t believe the perfectly fine items people toss in the garbage. Go on, Tom, because maybe if I hear the whole story, I can make sense of it for Karen. She’s had more than one nightmare in the last week.”

  Tom said, “Here’s where things started to go wrong. When Hilary looked at Finn’s computer—she’d been monitoring his phone and his computer for months—she saw he’d been researching his father. She was concerned because she knew darn well Rory Gannon would like to line his pockets with Finn’s money.”

  “Did she believe Gannon would want anything to do with Finn after all these years?” I said.

  “She probably had a fleeting thought,” Tom said. “But she knew exactly what he’d be most interested in—any payday to be had.” Tom glanced at Finn. “I didn’t mean to put him down. You understand the man didn’t know you, right? Didn’t—”

  Finn held up his hand to stop Tom from explaining Gannon’s motive. “Save it. I didn’t know him, either, though I think in the end he did want to tell me Hilary wasn’t my mother—which could be one reason she killed him. Anyhow, we may have had the same blood, but that’s all. I only hope I don’t turn out like him.”

  “You will never be like him,” I said.

  Ed said, “Listen to Jillian. She knows what she’s talking about. Heck, we know what you’re like and you’re one fine young man. But here’s where I’m a little confused. Hilary’s husband, Mr. Nolan Roth, was in cahoots with her to get Finn back home after he ran off. Maybe milk the account Karen set up. What changed?”

  “I believe it was indeed the original plan,” I explained. “But according to what Candace told me, Nolan Roth expressed doubt to Hilary they could ever get Finn back after he learned Tom and Finn were communicating. Added to that, Nolan was becoming obsessed with getting revenge on Tom for sending him to jail. Hilary didn’t care about getting even and didn’t like Nolan focusing on his own agenda. Didn’t like it
enough to get rid of him. See, she’d already contacted Gannon, using Finn’s phone. She figured Gannon might take a call from his son. He did.”

  “Gives you great insight into Hilary’s character,” Tom said. “Gannon was her back-up plan. When Nolan wouldn’t toe the line, she quietly seethed, but she played nice with him. She talked to Nolan all along the route to his second visit to Mercy to find Finn—sending her calls to my phone, which shows she knew Nolan had it.”

  I said, “Candace might not have told you this, but she busted Hilary’s alibi. She signed into the job fair, but was seen leaving on a security camera. She used your phone, Tom, to contact Gannon, not just Finn’s. This was during the time you were being held in Roth’s garage.”

  Tom smiled. “She always thought she was so darn smart. Apparently she knows nothing about cell phones except how to make calls.”

  “When Finn ran away,” I said to Ed, “Hilary figured he’d head straight to Tom. There was even a text Candace located where Nolan spotted Finn and lured him to the car saying he was Tom. He and Tom had similar hair and body build from pictures I’ve seen of Roth, so Finn climbed into the car not suspecting who was really driving.”

  Finn shook his head. “I still don’t remember climbing in Tom’s car. I don’t even remember walking down the road, not until you and Tom picked me up later. It’s weird to lose parts of your memory.”

  I said, “Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t remember.”

  Finn smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

  “In her confession,” Tom said, “Hilary admits she told Gannon to run the Prius off the road when he found my car and”—Tom glanced at Finn—“and take care of business. Heck, she practically gave him the GPS coordinates since she’d been chatting it up with Nolan. If she’d known you were in the car, Finn, who knows how this would have turned out.”

  “Why didn’t he kill me, too?” Finn said.

  “Because knowing Hilary,” Tom said, “Gannon would have received explicit instructions not to go off script—at least at first. He was supposed to get rid of Nolan; that’s all. When he looked at your phone and realized who you were, I’m sure he called Hilary and was told not to hurt you. You were the paycheck, after all. Only Hilary didn’t have him completely under her thumb. He started showing up everywhere—really did go off script.”

  “Hilary was sure a cold one,” Ed said. “But a coward. Stabbed Gannon in the back. If I ever felt an urgent need to kill someone, I’d look them in the eye.”

  “Unlike her, you wouldn’t ever hurt anyone, Ed,” I said.

  “Nope. I catch catfish, though. But I don’t think it hurts them.” He chuckled and went to the sink to wash his hands before breading the filets.

  “She was cold,” Finn said, his mood more melancholy than I’d seen in the last week.

  “We don’t have to talk about this anymore,” I said. It’s too much for him, I decided. He needs time to heal.

  “No. Don’t stop,” he said, sounding determined. “I want to know everything that was happening behind the scenes—because see, I knew what she was capable of. I saw how she manipulated Nolan. I also dealt firsthand with Nolan’s frustration over her bossing him around. Tell me this. How’d she find my father the night he died?”

  “Hilary made a decision to get rid of anyone who might want a share of Mom’s money,” Tom said. “With Gannon showing up all over town, saying he needed to tell Finn something, she thought he might have grown a conscience. Might even confess to killing Nolan. He was a risk. Heck, she probably told him my address and instructed him to meet her there.”

  Risk, I thought. I was reminded Bob might be here any minute.

  But it was Yoshi and Karen who arrived through the back door. I saw Ed nearly jump out of his skin when he spied the dog.

  “After his long walk, maybe Yoshi could use a nap,” I said, eyeing Finn.

  He got the message. “Yeah. I’ll take him to the guest room.”

  But before he could take the leash, Yoshi took off and ran down the basement stairs. Four cats were hot on his tail.

  “I’ll get him,” Finn said, pounding down the stairs after the animals.

  Karen looked at the door to the basement, toward where Finn had gone, her smile heartwarming. We all had a wonderful job ahead—to make up for all the love Finn had lost.

  An hour later, with Bob still not making an appearance, we all sat down at my dining room table for another wonderful fish-fry dinner—one I truly enjoyed. Meanwhile, Yoshi and the cats seemed content to stay in the basement for some reason. About halfway through the meal, I heard my phone ding. But I wasn’t about to be rude enough to check my messages while we were eating.

  Good thing the animals didn’t reappear until we’d cleared the table. Karen and Tom insisted on doing the dishes and I sat down with Ed and Finn in the living room.

  I heard the pets race up the basement stairs and was about to tell Ed he might want to hide, but there was no time.

  Yoshi came running up to Ed. He had a mouse in his mouth.

  I covered my mouth in horror and saw four cats who seemed completely disgusted that a dog had muscled in on their territory.

  With Yoshi’s tail wagging furiously, he seemed to be offering Ed a gift.

  Ed smiled. “What’s this?”

  “Yoshi’s a rat terrier,” Finn said. “Good as a cat at catching rodents.”

  Ed nodded and took the mouse from Yoshi’s jaws. “This is a dog I just might like.”

  Finn laughed and the cats converged, hoping to get a taste of mouse for themselves.

  While Ed and Yoshi continued to bond, with Finn’s help, I went to the end table where I’d set my phone.

  My first thought after I read the words on the screen was something Candace once told me: “You can’t con a con man.” I tried to fool Bob by omitting that his whole family would be here for dinner. It hadn’t worked.

  The text message I’d received from Bob was simple and to the point: Can’t meet with you. I’m gone.

  Epilogue

  Dashiell hadn’t liked the idea of getting into a cat carrier—but then what cat did? I was now searching the nooks and crannies in my house for spots he might have hidden, glad he would finally be going home. Of course, he thought he was headed for the vet and had taken off the minute I pulled the carrier up the basement stairs.

  With Thanksgiving come and gone, and the Christmas season upon us, I smiled at the thought of what a wonderful holiday this would be for Finn and his family—his real family. Not blood relations, but the people who cared deeply about him.

  I’d managed to close the basement door when Dashiell ran off, but the rest of the house was Dashiell’s playground for this game of hide-and-go-seek.

  As my three cats followed me around—and were no help whatsoever—I thought about how Dashiell was the one who started this latest journey of mine. I felt very lucky I’d met Finn—and gotten to know Tom so much better.

  I was on my belly, looking under the guest room bed for about the fourth time, when I heard someone knocking loudly on my back door. Syrah took off immediately, his curiosity piqued.

  Merlot decided on a more leisurely stroll out of the guest room, while Chablis decided she’d wait right where she was—in the fairly safe guest room. Yoshi’s stay here had spooked her and convinced me a dog wasn’t in my immediate future, even though I adored dogs. Yoshi had gone with Finn to live at Tom’s house and my home had felt a little lonely without them. Now it was Dashiell’s turn to go live with Tom, Yoshi and Finn. I’d agreed to allow Yoshi an adjustment period at his new place by keeping Dashiell with me, even though the two seemed to get along just fine while they’d been here together.

  I made it to the back door and said, “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me,” called Tom. “Is something wrong with Dashiell?”

  I unlocked the dead bolt and the other door lock and when I let Tom in, he said, “Good job keeping this place secure. But we expected yo
u over at the house at least thirty minutes ago.”

  I stared up at him. “You could have called—and I would have told you the problem. Dashiell is a reluctant traveler. I don’t blame him, either. Cat carrier equals Doc Jensen in his cat mind.”

  “He’s hiding?” Tom asked.

  “Yup,” I said, blowing up at the bangs that had fallen into my eyes.

  “No, he’s not,” Tom said with a smile.

  “Yes, he—” I heard a small meow. The elusive Mr. Dashiell must have heard Tom’s voice.

  “He has a pitiful voice for such a big cat,” I said.

  “I still love him.” Tom pulled me to him and gazed down into my eyes. “But not as much as I love you.”

  Before I could respond, he kissed me.

  I liked the kiss, liked the words and liked how, when we came apart, four cats were staring up at us looking, well… happy.

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