The Cat Sitter's Whiskers

by Blaize Clement

  She smiled and handed me one. “They open at five, which is why I suggested we meet at 5:15.”

  “Ha. Thanks, that was smart.” I took it from her and nodded.

  “Shall we?”

  I took one rut in the road and McKenzie took the other, and we walked through the stand of pines toward Levi’s trailer. The crickets in the brush fell quiet as we approached, only starting up again once we were well past them, and the palest hint of dusky yellow was beginning to break through the trees to the east—almost exactly the way it had looked that morning Levi had been killed. There was a chill in the air, either from the fog or the place, and I was happy to have a hot cup of coffee to wrap my hands around.

  As we got to the edge of the weedy yard, McKenzie slowed to a stop. “So, your friend Mona … have you learned anything else from her?”

  Right away I knew the deputy outside Levi’s place must have told her he’d seen me at the Duffys’ trailer the day before. I said, “Yeah, about that … I was only visiting. Mona wanted me to help tell her grandmother the truth about her engagement to Levi, and I had a hard time saying no. She was really afraid to do it by herself.”

  There was a pause, and then she said, “Dixie, I’m sure you’re aware that talking to anybody involved in this case only makes things more difficult. I really don’t need you to do my job for me.”

  I gulped. “Detective McKenzie, that’s not why I was there. Honestly, I told you, Mona came to me on her own. She just showed up at the diner. She’s had a really tough life, and she seems to think I understand her, like I have some kind of special insight or something, and that I’m the only person who can help her.”

  She nodded. “Not to worry. I just think it’s important that we all stick to our roles, yes? And anyway, I’m not so sure she’s wrong. Let’s have a look at Levi’s car.”

  She turned and walked away, leaving me standing there at the edge of the yard. I wanted to take off one of my Keds and throw it at the back of her head, but luckily I managed to control myself. And anyway … she was right. When Mona had asked for my help, I should probably have said no, but it’s not like I’ve never meddled in a criminal investigation before. Believe me, if I had a nickel for every time I’ve poked my nose in some place it shouldn’t be, I could buy a guinea egg for every single person on the planet.

  I joined McKenzie where she was standing behind Levi’s LeSabre, which was still parked at an angle, its front bumper nearly touching the steps to the trailer. We were about the same distance from the car as I’d been that morning outside my driveway.

  McKenzie pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and walked over to open the driver’s-side door. Moments later the motor started up and the headlights came on, illuminating the trailer and filling the whole yard around it with a shimmering halo of white mist.

  Just then, two glowing clouds of amber red lit up on either side of the rear bumper. McKenzie must have weighted the brake pedal down with something, because the lights stayed on as she walked back over to join me.

  I was pressing the rim of my coffee cup to my lips, holding on to it with both hands like a baby bottle. Now I knew for certain why I was here. I remembered McKenzie saying if they could confirm it was Levi outside my driveway that morning it might help confirm the time of death. She must have known we were going to have another foggy morning, and it was those floating fields of red light she was pointing at now.

  “This is about how far you were?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “It’s a 1990 Buick LeSabre. We ran a search, and you could almost count on one hand the number of cars like this in a two-hundred-mile radius, which probably wouldn’t mean much otherwise, except for the taillights. They’re quite distinct, as you can see. They’re almost like two long dashes on the back bumper.”

  I stared at the blurry red squares floating in the mist, trying my best to compare their shape with my memory of the lights I’d seen that morning, but it was almost impossible.

  I shook my head. “It might be the same color and everything, but I can’t say for certain it’s the same shape. I mean, I just remember two blobs of red light … and then it all happened so fast.” I turned to her. “I wish I could tell you if it was Levi outside my driveway or not, but I really can’t.”

  Even in the low light and fog, I could tell she wasn’t looking me straight in the eye, but at a point just over my left shoulder. She said, “Oh, we know it wasn’t Levi.”

  I felt my breath catch in my throat. “Huh?”

  “We know it wasn’t Levi. The coroner’s examination all but confirms it. And anyway his blood alcohol level was so high he’d have had trouble walking, much less driving. By the time you arrived on the scene, Levi had already been dead for quite some time. In fact, we think he died around two a.m. That’s why I wanted you to see his car in a similar light. If there was in fact someone else driving it that morning, there’d be a lot more unanswered questions.”

  I said, “But that’s impossible. I mean, he started his paper route—”

  She shook her head. “No. He never showed up for work. I talked to the delivery manager at the Herald-Tribune. He couldn’t get ahold of Levi, so he delivered the papers himself. He said it took longer than usual because of course he wasn’t familiar with the route. He said he had to stop and check the delivery list a number of times along the way. More than likely it was Levi’s manager who was parked outside your driveway that morning.”

  I think my mouth was hanging wide open the whole time she was talking. I said, “So…”

  She said, “So, what I’m saying is that Levi came home the night before, but I’m relatively certain he never left this trailer again.”

  I could feel my heart beginning to beat harder in my chest. I said, “Detective, I’m sure you already thought of this, but Mona told me there was a woman with him that night. She said Levi was drunk, and there was a woman with him that she’d never seen before.”

  She nodded. “Yes. Although Mona didn’t tell me herself. One of the neighbors saw a woman in a white sports car, a BMW, with local plates.”

  My mind was spinning. “Then that’s it, right? You need to find that woman. If she—”

  McKenzie smiled wanly. “Thanks, but we already did. It was a rental car leased under the name Cohen. It only took a few phone calls to trace it to her.”

  “Who is she?”

  “A tourist. She’s renting a condo here for the summer. She met Levi in a bar. They were drinking, and apparently he could be quite charming when he wanted to be. She came home with him, and…”

  For the first time, I sensed a crack in McKenzie’s confidence. She always struck me as the type of person who held herself at a distance, keeping her cards close and never letting her guard down, but there was something she wasn’t telling me.

  I said, “And…?”

  She sighed. “I could certainly understand why a man might single Miss Cohen out in a bar. She’s quite beautiful, and I imagine it happens to her all the time, but … she appears to have been in a fight, and were it not for Levi’s past record, I don’t know if I would have believed her…”

  “What do you mean, Levi’s past record?”

  “… and her fingerprints are all over the trailer, so there’s no doubt she was here, but…”

  “Detective McKenzie, what past record?”

  “Dixie, it would appear that Levi may have tried to rape her.”

  My jaw dropped open. “No. There’s no way.”

  She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. “Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I admit I don’t know much about his personal life, but I can tell you without a doubt … I mean, I went to school with him. He’s lived here his whole life…” My voice trailed away. I could tell by the look on McKenzie’s face I was getting nowhere.

  She folded her arms across her chest, almost like she was hugging herself. “Assault and battery. Two counts. And six counts of sexual assa
ult, all within the past four years. Dixie, I’m afraid Levi may not have been the person you thought he was.”

  I stepped back. “That’s not possible…”

  “It’s true. In every case, his accuser dropped the charges, but you know as well as I do a woman could have any number of reasons for changing her mind that have nothing to do with the innocence of her attacker. Miss Cohen told me Levi was extremely drunk, so she managed to fight him off, and she has the scratches and bruises to prove it.”

  I just stood there, shaking my head back and forth mutely.

  McKenzie said, “They were seen at Hoppie’s Bar the night before. We’ll know more after we see the security video from the parking lot of the condo where she’s staying. She says she was home just after midnight, which, if the coroner’s evaluation is correct, would be hours before Levi was stabbed.”

  I cringed.

  The amount of blood in Levi’s trailer should have been enough to clue me in, but I think I’d been doing my best not to think about how he had actually died. This whole time, I’d just assumed he’d been shot, which for some stupid reason seemed less … I don’t know … less horrible. The idea that he’d actually been stabbed made me feel a little light-headed, and for a moment I felt like I might faint right there in front of McKenzie. She may have noticed, because she changed the subject immediately.

  “Dixie, I asked you here because I wanted you to look at Levi’s car, but it wasn’t the only reason. Frankly, it’s not something I think we could’ve discussed over the phone…”

  I just stared at her and nodded.

  She cleared her throat. “Normally, this would be way out of line on my part, but I think in this particular case it’s warranted, and you seem to have established a certain … that is, it seems you know how…” She put her hands on her hips and looked down at the ground. “Oh, screw it. You know how to talk to people. And Mona trusts you. I’m afraid she sees me as the enemy, and I’m afraid she’s not telling me everything she knows. In fact, I’m certain of it. I’m wondering if you might be willing to talk to her again.”

  I could feel my eyebrows slowly creeping up my forehead. I said, “So … basically, you’re asking me to do your job.”

  She tilted her head to one side and the corners of her mouth rose slightly.

  “Yes, Dixie. I suppose that’s exactly what I’m asking.”

  31

  When I opened the door at Tom Hale’s condo, I heard Billy Elliot’s toenails skittering on the parquet floor as he raced down the hall, and then once I got inside he pranced around in a circle, jumping up and lavishing me with kisses. There was a time when I would never have tolerated such behavior. He would have been required to sit quietly while I put my stuff down, and then when I was ready he’d be allowed to greet me, and with all four paws on the floor like a gentleman. But we’ve been friends for so long. We cut each other some slack now and then.

  I found Tom out on the balcony overlooking the Gulf, sitting in his wheelchair with a book and a cup of coffee.

  He said, “Billy wants me to tell you you’re late.”

  I smiled. “Sorry, I had an early-morning meeting.”

  “How’s your head?”

  “It’s all better, at least on the surface.”

  “That’s progress. Did you ever solve your earth goddess mystery?”

  I leaned against the doorway and folded my arms over my chest. “Yeah. I did. The whole thing was a dream.”

  He frowned. “A dream?”

  I nodded. “Yep. The attack, the curtains, the whole kit and caboodle. Honestly, I think what happened is, after I fainted, my brain just decided to come up with a more entertaining explanation.”

  Tom turned in his chair. “What?”

  I shrugged. “Believe me, I don’t like it one bit. I was hoping if Mrs. Keller had started a collection of those figurines it might mean I hadn’t imagined the whole thing, but no such luck. As it turns out, if she’s collecting anything, it’s old jars of cornmeal.”

  He slipped his glasses down his nose and peered up at me over the rims.

  I waved my hand in the air. “I know. Don’t even ask. I’m done trying to figure it out.”

  “Dixie, if I recall correctly, you told me you slipped on an orange peel.”

  Billy Elliot raised his head off the floor and looked up at me, his ears pointing out like two radio towers.

  I gulped. “I did?”

  “Yeah, you did.”

  “Oops. Sorry. I was probably afraid you’d think I’d lost my mind.”

  “Well, it’s a little late for that.” He swung his chair around to face me. “Dixie, I saw something in the paper about a string of robberies in the area…”

  I crouched down and rubbed the scruff of Billy’s neck. “Yeah, I heard about that, too, but trust me, this wasn’t one of them. The cops came and checked everything out. There was no break-in, nothing missing. It was all my imagination. I even saw two candles burning in the living room, and I dreamed the guy who hit me was wearing one of Mrs. Keller’s masks—a big scary thing with gnashing teeth and weasel eyes, like this…”

  I made a face, trying my best to imitate Dick Cheney’s menacing grimace, but Tom was just staring at me blankly.

  I said, “What?”

  “Well … I don’t want to get you all riled up again, but it’s funny you say…”

  I waited. Billy looked up and wagged his tail. “Funny I say what? Come on, Tom, this dog needs some exercise.”

  He closed his book and slowly laid it down on the table. Then he released the locks from his wheelchair and without saying a word rolled right past me. Billy offered a low-pitched, “Wuff!” as if to say, Let’s go! and then followed him in, leaving me standing there on the balcony all by myself.

  I looked out at the Gulf. There was a huge white cruise ship making its way south, probably to Key West, and I imagined everyone on board lolling around by the pool half naked with nothing but the sun and the sea to distract them from their daiquiris and margaritas and lobster rolls. I thought about swimming out to them, but instead I went inside.

  Tom was at his desk, scrolling through a list of articles on his computer.

  “Dixie, I think you better look at this. As soon as you said…” He clicked a couple of keys and a picture appeared, and then he pointed at the screen like he was shooting it with an imaginary gun.

  It was a beautiful painting of a wizened old woman, with glowing cheekbones and a strong jaw, her gray hair blowing around her tanned face like a wispy halo of ghosts, her blue eyes wise and knowing. There were ghostly ears of corn floating in the air all around her.

  With a note of triumph in his voice, he said, “That’s Pachamama.”

  I leaned forward. “Wow. She looks awesome.”

  “She is. That’s one way she’s depicted, but she can also look like this…”

  He clicked a couple of keys and another picture appeared—a small female figure carved out of white stone, bald and big-eared, with soft rounded shoulders and big voluminous breasts.

  I said, “Yeah, Tom. I know. You printed that out for me already.”

  He cast me a sidelong glance and raised one eyebrow. “Okay, except Pachamama is still worshipped today in a number of cultures with all kinds of rituals and ceremonial prayers, and guess what’s often sprinkled around her as a devotional offering…”

  I said, “No…”

  He said, “Yes.”

  My eyes must have grown ten times bigger. “Cornmeal?”

  He nodded.

  I leaned forward to get a closer look, and a shudder trickled down my body. The figurine’s face was crudely carved, with very little detail—just two half-moons for eyes, mounded cheeks, and thin Mona Lisa lips—but the overall effect was stunning. It was a combination of raw, terrible power … tempered with peaceful, unadulterated bliss.

  “Her devotees use cornmeal as an offering, like a gift, or a show of respect. Usually they’ll light a couple of candles and say a prayer, an
d then they sprinkle it on the ground, like in a garden.”

  I was speechless. Tom looked at me and said, “You heard me say candles, right?”

  I nodded. He closed the picture and opened another article, the title of which was Pachamama and Modern Culture.

  He said, “Pachamama’s actually a very interesting lady. It seems no matter what happens to her, she never gives up. She just keeps on going like the force of nature she is. And believe it or not, the people who worship her today? They’re mostly Catholic. They believe Pachamama is actually the Virgin Mary, only hiding her face … behind a disguise.”

  I felt my jaw slide forward as my eyeballs tried to jump out of their sockets. I said, “You mean, like she’s wearing a mask?”

  He looked up at me. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  It felt like time had slowed to a crawl. I said, “Tom, these people, the ones that worship Pachamama, where do they live?”

  He said, “Mostly in the Andes.”

  I nodded, fairly certain I already knew the answer to my next question.

  “And Tom … where is Peru?”

  * * *

  I was standing next to the Bronco, just around the corner from the Sea Breeze’s front entrance, with my cell phone pressed up against my ear. I was still out of breath. I don’t think poor Billy Elliot ever had a shorter, more disappointing walk in his entire life, and I’m sure as we were riding back up in the elevator he wondered what the hell he was paying me for, but I promised I’d make it up to him next time with an extra-long walk.

  My head was swimming. Those lit candles on the coffee table, the yellow powder sprinkled in the garden, the mask, the statue, Daniela’s cross … and then I remembered Mr. Paxton saying he’d been out of town on a buying trip in the Andes. There were just too many coincidences. That sculpture I’d seen … it had to be real.

  It just had to.

  After the phone rang about six times, there was a quick beep on the line so I perked up, and then, miraculously, I heard the familiar sound of Mrs. Keller’s voice.