Then again, either possibility would certainly explain Charlie’s reluctance to trust anyone. What had he been doing during those missing years? Was it classified? Or just illegal?
Liss tried to focus on what she’d learned about Charlie’s career as a private investigator. Apparently, he’d been on good terms with Garden Park police. That made it doubly strange that he’d balk at contacting the authorities in Moosetookalook. Then she wondered if his reluctance might have had something to do with the fact that Sherri was chief of police. When they were growing up, Charlie would have known Sherri’s father, Ernie Willett.
She’d ask Ernie when she got home. He hadn’t been one of the people she’d planned to talk to, since he was Margaret’s age and fully four years younger than Charlie, but there might still have been history between them. Ernie, she reminded herself, had dated her aunt back in the day. Maybe he would be able to recall something significant about Margaret’s big brother.
That much decided, she circled back to the question of why Charlie hadn’t shared his findings with someone in law enforcement. He’d clearly believed the water company was up to no good. If he didn’t want to talk to Sherri, then why not take his evidence to the Carrabassett County sheriff or the state police? Either department would have taken his claims seriously enough to investigate.
She stirred restlessly. Did no one make comfortable airline seats anymore?
Resettling herself, she kept coming back to the fact that Charlie had been good at keeping secrets. It seemed likely that one of those secrets cost him his life, but which one? Had he died because he’d been about to reveal the truth about Merveilleuse International? Or had someone from his decidedly murky past decided he needed to be silenced?
Liss continued her ruminations after the plane landed. She sat at the designated gate for her connecting flight and tried to focus on the theory that her uncle had been killed to keep him quiet about Merveilleuse International. If that was the case, could his killer still be in town, waiting to make the company’s case at the hearing on Monday?
The thought chilled her. As much as she wanted Charlie’s murderer to be caught, she didn’t much care for the idea that she’d be painting a target on her own back by attempting to convince the town to reject the water company’s offer.
Stop scaring yourself!
To dispel her sudden sense of dread, Liss got up to look for a vending machine and the comfort of chocolate. She hadn’t taken two steps before she caught sight of the same man she’d already encountered twice before that day. He was half hidden by the newspaper he was reading, but she was sure of her identification. She’d noticed him in the terminal in Miami and then as a fellow passenger on her flight. Was he following her?
Two chocolate bars later, she’d talked herself out of that preposterous conclusion. The stranger had shown no interest in her. Surely, there was nothing odd or suspicious about two people sharing part of an itinerary.
She slept through her second flight and was in a much better frame of mind by the time she boarded her third plane of the day. This one was so small that she had to duck her head to walk down the aisle.
Her breath caught when she started to slide into her seat. That man was there again, seated two rows behind her.
He still looked ordinary—perfectly harmless, in fact—but the coincidence spooked her.
During the final short hop of her journey, Liss tried to convince herself that people had all kinds of reasons for flying from Miami to Portland, and a roundabout route like the one she’d been forced to book might have been the only one available to him, too. The stranger was probably just returning from a Florida vacation . . . except that his face was as pale as her own. Whatever he’d been doing in the sunny South, it hadn’t involved relaxing on a beach.
As soon as her flight landed, Liss was on her feet, purse and carry-on in hand. Once she was in the terminal, she took off running. She could have saved herself the effort. She reached baggage claim ahead of the other passengers, but then had to wait for the carousel to spit out the roller bag she’d checked in Miami. Her stalker, if that was what he was, had plenty of time to catch up.
Once again, he didn’t seem at all interested in her, but Liss wasn’t reassured. She watched him out of the corner of her eye until he’d collected his luggage and exited the building.
Liss remembered exactly where she’d left her car and lost no time retrieving it from the long-term parking garage and hitting the road. She didn’t see the man again, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he might be following her. She glanced frequently into her rearview mirror during the long drive home, but never saw the same vehicle behind her for more than a short distance. Nevertheless, she took a circuitous route after she left Three Cities, one sure to confuse anyone who might be trying to tail her.
Liss had the road north of Fallstown to herself. It was late and there was no traffic to speak of, but her nerves refused to settle. She drove faster than she usually did. Only after she was parked in her own garage with the overhead door closed behind her, did she finally feel safe.
* * *
There was a light burning at the front of the house, but Liss chose to enter through the back door. Until they greeted her with a frenzy of barking, she’d forgotten that Dandy and Dondi would be in the kitchen.
“Calm down, you guys. I live here. Remember?”
Their joyous reception continued more quietly after she found the light switch. Dandy went up on her hind legs, and Dondi tried to wind himself, catlike, around her ankles.
Blinking sleepily, Dan opened the dog gate and joined them. “Hey,” he said. “I must have fallen asleep in my chair. I didn’t even hear the car pull in.”
“You didn’t need to wait up for me.” When she’d phoned to tell him she was flying back ahead of schedule, he’d insisted she let him know as soon as she landed. She’d sent him an e-mail from baggage claim, but she’d kept it brief. She hadn’t told him she thought she was being followed.
“Sure I did.”
The moment Dan gathered her into a welcoming hug, Liss relaxed. She was grateful for his presence and even more relieved to be home again. The whole day suddenly seemed like a bad dream, one in which she’d let her notoriously overactive imagination run away with her. She’d been in no danger from that ordinary-looking fellow passenger. She should have her head examined for thinking so.
“You must be exhausted,” Dan said, releasing her. “Do you want to go straight to bed or would you like me to fix you something to eat first?”
“I need to wind down a little before I can sleep, but I’m not really hungry.”
“Hot chocolate it is, then.”
While he foraged in the kitchen cabinets for mugs and a box of premeasured packets, Liss looked around for Glenora. She found the little black cat in her accustomed spot on top of the refrigerator. The barrier that kept the dogs in the kitchen at night had not been designed to keep her out. She had no trouble leaping over it in either direction.
“Give Mama a cuddle,” Liss crooned as she reached up, planning to pull Glenora into her arms. There was nothing more comforting than stroking a fur baby.
Startled, the cat sprang to her feet before Liss could catch hold of her. She backed away and was just out of reach when she stopped in her tracks to sneeze three times in rapid succession.
“I didn’t think I smelled that bad!” Liss felt the corners of her mouth start to turn up, but they never made it all the way to a smile.
Glenora’s sneezing fit was followed by a horrible wheezing sound. Then she took off, jumping down from the refrigerator and sailing over the dog gate. Once she reached the hall, she bolted toward the living room.
Alarmed, Liss went after her, slowed by the gate and the need to turn on more lights. She knew something was seriously wrong with Glenora when she was able to track the cat by ear. A series of hacking coughs led her to Glenora’s hiding place behind the living-room sofa.
The tortured sound stopped a
s suddenly as it had begun, leaving the room in relative silence. Liss knelt on the sofa to look over the back. She expected to see Glenora’s big green eyes staring back at her. Instead, the little cat was huddled against the heat register, curled into a tight ball. After a moment she started to wheeze again.
Rounding on Dan, who had followed her into the room, Liss glared at him. “How long has she been like this?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. She was okay when you left.”
Had she been? Liss wasn’t so certain. She’d been distracted by the rush to pack and the million-and-one details involved in going out of town just before March Madness. She hadn’t paid much attention to any of the animals in her care. Now that she thought about it, she remembered thinking that Glenora had been pickier than usual about her food.
“Has she been eating?”
Dan began to look alarmed. “I’ve been throwing out what was left of the canned stuff in the morning and putting out fresh, but I just figured she didn’t like the flavor, or she was missing you. She’s still chowing down on the dry food.”
“And the coughing? The wheezing? The sneezing? How long have they been going on?”
“Take it easy, Liss. Yeah, I should have realized that something wasn’t right. I guess I noticed, but I put it down to the whole possession thing. You know—the way she’s been channeling Lumpkin. She hasn’t really been herself since we lost him.”
“Lumpkin did not cough. Or wheeze.”
Liss was horrified to realize how close she was to losing her temper. Underneath the anger was a deep-seated fear. She didn’t think she could bear it if both their cats died within a few months of each other.
“I’m calling the vet.”
“Liss, be reasonable. It’s nearly midnight on a Saturday. I don’t—”
“I do.” Audrey wouldn’t mind. She was a night owl. And a friend.
She had retrieved the list of emergency numbers they kept next to the landline on the end table and was about to punch in the one that would connect her to Audrey Greenwood, the veterinarian at Moosetookalook Small Animal Clinic, when the instrument startled her by starting to ring. She took a step back, staring at it, before she recovered sufficiently to check the caller ID. She grimaced when she recognized the number of her mother’s cell phone.
Dan came close enough to look over her shoulder. “Let me guess. You were supposed to call Vi as soon as you arrived home. You’d better answer that before she worries herself to death.”
Dan didn’t seem to find it peculiar that her mother would phone at such a late hour, rather than wait for Liss to call or text her. Liss did. This was the same woman who believed her daughter had no need to know about it when she herself went in for major surgery. A little plane ride was nothing compared to that.
Turning her back on Dan, she picked up the receiver. “Mom, I’m here. I just got in, but I can’t talk right now. I’ve got to hang up and—”
“Amaryllis MacCrimmon! Don’t you dare cut me off!” Vi’s tone of voice brooked no disobedience.
Liss winced. “All right, Mother. I’m listening. There’s no need to shout.”
“Rita just left,” Vi said. “She came by to tell me she remembered something from the last time she saw Charlie. She overheard him muttering to himself about wanting to right old wrongs.”
“That’s it? That could mean anything.”
“Well, yes. But it could also be important. What on earth is the matter with you, Liss? I thought you wanted to solve Charlie’s murder.”
“I’m a little distracted, Mom. Glenora’s sick. I need you to get off the phone so I can call the vet.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. A few minutes more isn’t going to matter one way or the other. Besides, she’s just a cat.”
“Thank you so much for your concern, Mom,” Liss snapped. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
She slammed the receiver down with far more force than necessary and immediately picked it up again to call Audrey. Since the vet lived only a short distance away—nothing was very far away from anything else in Moosetookalook—she was at Liss’s door less than twenty minutes later.
The house call did not go smoothly. Glenora was usually a calm, sweet-tempered cat, but she went ballistic when Audrey tried to listen to her lungs. Kicking out with all four feet, claws fully extended, she squirmed and twisted. It took both Liss and Dan to hold her in place on the coffee table while Audrey finished examining her.
“Okay. You can let her go now,” Audrey said a few endless minutes later.
Glenora hit the floor running. Liss examined the long scratch on her right forearm. Blood slowly welled up and it stung like the devil. Dan and Audrey had similar mementoes of the battle.
“I’d advise you not to try picking her up again until she’s had time to calm down,” Audrey said in a dry voice.
A hiss, followed by a whine from one of the Scotties, indicated that either Dandy or Dondi had gotten in Glenora’s way and paid the price. Dan went to check on the damage.
“What on earth is wrong with her?” Liss asked. “And don’t say she’s been possessed by Lumpkin’s ghost. I’m not buying that explanation.”
Audrey, a tall, blue-eyed blonde a little older than Liss, cracked a weary smile. “Trust me, that’s the last thing I’d be likely to suggest.”
True enough, Liss thought. Flights of fancy weren’t Audrey’s style. She’d never known the vet to sugarcoat a diagnosis, either. If she didn’t think an animal was likely to survive surgery, she’d say so up front rather than encourage a desperate pet owner to spend a fortune in a vain attempt to prolong a beloved family member’s life. That wasn’t to say that Audrey didn’t care deeply about her patients, especially the ones she’d taken care of for years. She might not have been as devastated by Lumpkin’s death as Liss and Dan, but she had shared in their sorrow.
“As best I can tell,” the vet said, “Glenora has an upper respiratory infection. That affects her sense of smell, so that’s probably why she’s not eating. I’d suggest you put her food in the microwave and heat it up a bit. Don’t get it too hot. You want to warm it just enough to increase the smell.”
She rummaged for a moment in the doctor’s bag she’d brought with her and came up with a large syringe, a tube containing some kind of paste, and a small bottle. “How is she at taking pills? If it’s easier to squirt a liquid into her mouth, I can have the pharmacist make up a solution of the antibiotic. He can even make it fish-flavored if you want.”
Liss’s nose wrinkled at the thought. Giving medicine to cats was such fun. “I don’t know what will work best. She’s never been sick before. But, on the other hand, I had to give Lumpkin pills once and I got pretty good at opening his mouth with one hand and shoving the pill in with the other.” The trick had been to hold his mouth closed afterward and rub his throat until he swallowed.
“We’ll try the pills, then. Now, this tube contains a nutritional supplement. Since you say she’s not eating much, I recommend you get as much into her as this syringe will hold. Do that every day for the next week. It’s brown goo in a flavor cats are supposed to like. Some do and some don’t. I’ve known a few that lick it directly from the tube and think it’s the equivalent of candy.”
“We should be so lucky.”
Audrey’s sympathetic smile was fleeting. “If she doesn’t take to it on her own, you can try putting a dab on the end of her nose, so she’ll have to lick it off, or on the roof of her mouth. If you try that, be careful to avoid her teeth. If neither of those methods work, then fill the syringe, stick it into the corner of her mouth, and give her the whole payload at once. Fair warning—if you don’t get the syringe far enough in, she’ll spit everything right back out.”
“We’ll manage.” Liss had visions of brown goo dotting her upholstery, her carpeting, and herself, but she’d do whatever was necessary to restore Glenora to health.
Dan had returned while Audrey was giving instructions. “What about the pills?” h
e asked. “How many and how often?”
“Given her size and weight, half of one tablet twice a day for fourteen days. Keep an eye on how much she’s eating and drinking and call me if you have any questions.”
“I have one right now,” Liss said. “Do you have any idea what caused her condition?”
Audrey hesitated, then glanced toward the kitchen. “I suspect it’s a combination of things. Cats are prone to stress-related illnesses, the same way humans are. How did she react to becoming an only cat?”
“She seemed fine at first, but then she started doing some of the same obnoxious things Lumpkin used to do.”
“Seemed to me as if she might be channeling him,” Dan admitted, a slightly sheepish expression on his face.
Audrey nodded. “She missed him, and she could very well have been imitating some of his habits. That behavior would probably have stopped on its own if you hadn’t introduced a new element into the equation.”
“The Scotties?”
“The Scotties. It’s not their fault, but having only just begun to adjust to being the sole animal in the house, I suspect it upset Glenora more than usual when she was forced to share. Add in your absence—oh, yes, everyone in town knows you and Vi suddenly packed your bags and took off for somewhere—and the stress suddenly got a lot worse.”
“I should have noticed sooner.”
Audrey shook her head. “All cats sneeze occasionally, Dan. Cough, too, and turn up their noses at a particular variety of food. You’ve no call to blame yourself. Either of you. And the good news is that, with treatment, Glenora should be herself again in a week or two.”
* * *
Liss and Dan went to bed soon after Audrey left and slept late on Sunday. When they got up, their first order of business was to get assorted medicines into Glenora. She did not appreciate their dedication to making her well. Liss sported scratches on both arms by the time they were done.
She finally got around over brunch to telling Dan everything she and Vi had discovered in Florida. While she’d been away, she’d shared only the highlights. She still didn’t tell him about the man on the plane. After a good night’s sleep, she was certain her mind had been playing tricks on her.
A View to a Kilt Page 12
