Escape Claws

by Linda Reilly

  “Ms. Caphart, before you go any further.” Whitley held up his large palms. “Despite what you think, I’m not unsympathetic to the situation. That said, however, I’m afraid we’re going to need both Fran and you to come down to the station.” A slight flush tinged his cheeks. “We’d like to fingerprint you both, but only for purposes of elimination, you understand.”

  Lara felt an invisible clamp pinch her insides. Purposes of elimination? That was cop-speak if she’d ever heard it.

  Her thoughts raced. Had she touched the hoe? Were her prints anywhere on it?

  She rolled her mind backward, to when Brooke had first noticed the blood on the hoe. Brooke had cried out, prompting Lara to kneel for a closer look. She was sure she hadn’t touched anything. She’d have known better. On instinct alone, she’d have wanted to protect the murder weapon—if that’s what it turned out to be—from further contamination.

  As for Aunt Fran, her prints were probably all over the hoe—at least the handle portion. What would that prove? That she was fond of planting flowers in her yard?

  Lara sat down again and rested her elbows on the kitchen table, covering her eyes with her hands. She’d barely been in Whisker Jog for a day, and already it seemed everything was spiraling out of control.

  She was also beginning to realize that Aunt Fran might be in trouble.

  Theo Barnes had been a prominent citizen of Whisker Jog. A bully, for sure, but to some he might have been a hero. Despite Dora’s claim that he’d had lots of enemies, who knew what other people had thought of him? Or what friends he might have had in high places? Surely someone other than his niece, Mary, was mourning his death. Lara hadn’t been in Whisker Jog long enough to get a sense of the social scene.

  Another thought gripped her. Was there something, other than the hoe, that had traces of the murderer’s fingerprints? Had the police found a critical piece of evidence tucked in one of Barnes’s pockets? Maybe a letter or an incriminating photo? Was that the reason they were insisting on fingerprinting both women?

  Last of all, and most important in Lara’s opinion, was one burning question: Why had Aunt Fran gone outside very late last night? Was it before or after Barnes had been killed?

  She jumped when she felt someone shaking her arm. “Lara, you’re daydreaming,” Aunt Fran said.

  “Sorry. I was just thinking about everything.” She looked up to see Brooke and Darryl huddled together in the kitchen. Darryl had questions written all over his face, while Brooke, clutching her backpack, looked pale and scared.

  “Their mom’s on her way over to pick them up,” Whitley said by way of explanation. “After that I’m driving us all to the station. Fran, you might want to grab a coat. It’s getting chillier out there by the minute.”

  Lara rose slowly. A sick feeling was wending its way into the pit of her stomach.

  “I’ll get your coat, Aunt Fran,” Lara offered. Determined not to let Whitley sense her fear, she started toward the large parlor, where the coat closet was located opposite the front door.

  “Lara, wait.” Aunt Fran grasped her forearm. “Before we go to the police station, there’s something I need to tell you.” She exchanged a look with Whitley. Whitley looked away, a red stain creeping up his neck.

  “A long time ago,” her aunt said in a small voice, “right after you left Whisker Jog with your mom and dad, I…started seeing Theo. Within three months of our first date, we—well, we got engaged. Theo and I were going to be married.”

  Chapter 11

  The ride to the police station had been somber, if not excruciating. Lara couldn’t stop her aunt’s words from ringing in her head: Theo and I were going to be married.

  After they’d entered the station—a squat brick affair with a surprisingly cheerful front entrance—each of them had been fingerprinted. The procedure was simple enough, yet it had made Lara feel like a criminal.

  After that, Aunt Fran was led into one room and Lara into another. Whitley chose to conduct Lara’s interview himself. A captain from the state police sequestered himself in a different room with Aunt Fran.

  Lara shuddered when she recalled the closeness of the room she’d been stuck in. If she’d been even a tad claustrophobic, she’d have probably tried to climb those dreary walls. And if someone had asked her to paint a picture of the room, the colors on her palette would have stayed largely untouched. The room had been mostly gray with a touch of bile green.

  All of it paled next to the bombshell Aunt Fran had dropped. Engaged to Theo? Betrothed to the town bully? Lara needed time to process that one.

  No, she needed more. She needed an explanation.

  After ensuring that both women were safely back in the house, the young officer who’d driven them home took off like a shot.

  “I’ll hang our coats,” Lara said. “And then I’ll make us a quick supper.” She tried to sound upbeat, but Aunt Fran wasn’t buying it.

  “Lara, I’m so sorry you got dragged in to all this.”

  I’m sorry, too, Lara was tempted to say.

  Even so, she’d have hated the idea of seeing her aunt go through that alone. Aunt Fran needed her family—and right now Lara was it.

  She went over and slipped an arm around her aunt’s shoulder. “I didn’t get dragged in, Aunt Fran. In fact, when you think about it, if I hadn’t been poking around outside this morning, I wouldn’t have found the, you know, the body. Someone else would’ve discovered it, and we wouldn’t have to be so…involved.”

  Aunt Fran gave her a wry smile. “I suppose.” Her expression grew pensive. “But things happen for a reason, Lara. Maybe this is the way it was meant to be.”

  Lara suddenly remembered what had drawn her attention to Theo’s prone form in the first place.

  Blue.

  She’d spotted the cat padding across the meadow, heading toward the river. When she’d tried to follow her, she’d tripped and tumbled down the hill.

  And found Barnes.

  Lara stuck their coats in the closet, put on the teakettle, and insisted that her aunt sit down and let her whip up a fast dinner.

  The frittata she’d made the evening before had turned out quite delicious. But tonight they needed something different. Something Lara’s limited cooking skills would be able to handle. Fortunately, she’d bought groceries earlier that day.

  Thirty minutes later, they were enjoying a tangy version of American goulash with multigrain rolls and a spinach salad.

  “You’ve turned out to be quite the cook,” Aunt Fran said after swallowing a mouthful of salad. “I’m impressed.”

  “Uh…Aunt Fran, I’m lucky I can boil water without scorching it,” Lara mumbled over a mouthful of goulash. She swallowed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to talk with my mouth full. The little bit I know about cooking, I picked up from Gabriela.”

  Aunt Fran nodded. “Your mother, as I recall, was somewhat of a hit-or-miss cook.”

  “Mostly miss,” Lara said, and instantly felt guilty. Her mom had her faults, plenty of them, but at least she’d tried. For the most part, anyway. “I shouldn’t talk about her that way. You must think I’m awful.” Lara buttered her last piece of roll and popped it into her mouth.

  “Not at all,” Aunt Fran said. Her voice grew soft. “But right now we need to talk about the elephant in the room. Theo.”

  More like a Tyrannosaurus rex, Lara thought.

  “Theo Barnes,” Lara said. “Your former fiancé. Or is it ex-fiancé?” She gulped back a mouthful of her tea.

  “Either one works,” Aunt Fran said.

  “How—how long ago were you engaged to him?”

  With a quiet sigh, Aunt Fran dabbed her lips and folded her napkin. “I’m going to start from the beginning. It’s easier to understand that way. That summer, after you and Roy and your mom moved to Massachusetts, was the start of a very difficult time for me. I lost all three of you at once—but it was you who’d practically lived in this house with me. It seemed you were here more than you were at your own
home.”

  Lara felt her throat closing. Because this felt like my home.

  “So then you wrote letters,” Lara prompted. She was starting to feel impatient.

  “Yes,” Aunt Fran said. “Letters that, for some reason, were never delivered to you.”

  If Lara had to guess, she’d say her mother had been the cause of that. The letters themselves—Lara was sure now that they’d been inside the fallen box her aunt had tried desperately to hide that morning. Brenda “Breezy” Caphart had never been fond of Aunt Fran. They’d tolerated one another, but Lara had always sensed that when it came to Aunt Fran, her mom felt like a runner-up in a pageant she could never win.

  As for her dad, just thinking of Roy Caphart made Lara smile. He’d been a gentle man—not a mean bone in his lanky form. He’d doted on Brenda, but he’d adored Lara. Colon cancer had claimed him six years earlier. He’d insisted he wanted no services, no calling hours. Brenda hadn’t even notified Aunt Fran until long after his ashes were buried.

  But I could have told her, Lara thought. I could have called to tell her that her only brother was gone. Why didn’t I?

  “You’re dream-weaving again.”

  Lara rubbed her cheeks. “I know. Sorry. My mind keeps drifting. Please go ahead, Aunt Fran—tell me about Theo.”

  Aunt Fran pushed her plate aside. She’d finished everything save for a few stray macaroni shells. “I had a lot of friends back then. A few very dear friends. But it wasn’t the same without you in the house. It felt…empty. Even the cats—I had three back then—felt your absence.” She paused for a long moment. “And then a few months after you moved out of New Hampshire, Theo started to call me.”

  Interesting timing, Lara thought.

  She thought back to the younger version of her aunt that she remembered so well. Aunt Fran had been pretty, for lack of a better word, but in a non-traditional way. Lara could easily see how Theo, or any man, would have been drawn to those expressive green eyes, taut cheekbones, and soft laugh.

  “I have to say, I welcomed his calls. It helped take away the loneliness. Soon we started seeing each other. And before you gape at me in horror, I should tell you that he behaved like a different man back then. He didn’t show any signs of the bully he later became.” She laughed softly. “For a short time, Lara, he was a gentleman. One day he even helped me rescue a kitten that had gotten stuck in a tree in the park. Tore his trousers, but he got the little monkey. He came down from that tree with the kitten wrapped in his sweater.” She swallowed, her eyes watering. “It was one of the sweetest things I’d ever seen. I think that’s when I started to fall in love with him.”

  That was a Theo Barnes Lara couldn’t begin to imagine. “I can’t picture that,” Lara said. “Not from what I saw of Barnes at the coffee shop.”

  Her aunt went on. “We began spending all our free time together. And then one day out of the blue, he popped the question. We’d only been seeing each other for a few months, but nonetheless I said yes.” Her gaze drifted sideways, and the lines around her eyes deepened.

  Lara gave her a few moments and then said, “Obviously, it didn’t work out.”

  “No. It didn’t.” Aunt Fran’s hand shook a little as she reached for her teacup. She took a small sip but the liquid had cooled, and she made a slight face.

  “Almost as soon as we’d gotten engaged,” Aunt Fran said, “Theo began to change. He wasn’t content to spend his free time with me anymore. Dining out, something we’d both enjoyed, got much less frequent. One weekend Theo decided to hop on a flight to Vegas. I didn’t find out about it till he’d already returned. He came by my house, unannounced, late that Sunday night. His face fairly popped with anger. When I asked what was wrong, he told me he’d lost a crapload of money in Vegas. I explained that I’d been frantic with worry, that the least he could’ve done was to call and let me know he was okay.”

  “What did he say?” Lara asked her.

  “He said—” She took in a calming breath. “He said it was none of my business, and I’d better learn that if we were going to make our relationship work. Our relationship, mind you. He didn’t even call it a marriage.”

  Lara sat back, her hands resting in her lap. She shook her head. “Aunt Fran, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry—about everything. I’m appalled at the way Theo treated you. Thank heaven you didn’t marry him.”

  Aunt Fran gave out a sad little laugh. “Thank heaven indeed. Less than a week later I ended it with him. I finally woke up to how little we had in common.”

  “How did he take it?”

  “Oh, he was livid. You should have seen him! No one had ever rejected him before. It was a whole new experience for him.”

  “A well-deserved one,” Lara snapped. “When did he meet Josette?”

  Aunt Fran thought a moment. “As I recall, it wasn’t long after we’d split up. A year, maybe two at the most. Josette had been working at the lumber company where Theo bought a lot of his supplies. One day he asked her out, and the two started flouncing around town together, acting as if they were local royalty.”

  Having met the flashy Josette, Lara could easily picture that. “But, unlike you, Josette was foolish enough to marry Theo.”

  “That’s right,” Aunt Fran said. “In a way, I felt sorry for her. She truly didn’t see what she was in for. She found out soon enough, though. Theo cheated on her constantly. She made up for it by spending as much of his money as she could.”

  Lara told her aunt what Sherry had revealed about the lump-sum alimony payment Josette was entitled to collect from Barnes’s estate.

  “Well, that’s news to me,” Aunt Fran said. “Not surprising, though. Josette had a sharp lawyer. You might remember him. Gideon Halley?”

  Lara felt her eyes spring wide open. “Gideon? Halley?” She laughed. “Now that’s a blast from the past.”

  She tried to form a picture of Gideon in her mind, but she hadn’t seen him in over fifteen years. What she remembered was a shy boy with straight black hair and bony arms, his nose always buried in an adventure book. His eyes were a distinctive chocolate brown, she recalled. They shone whenever he read aloud from a book report he’d written for English class.

  She wondered what he looked like these days.

  “He was a nice boy,” Aunt Fran said. “He still is, though of course he’s a man now. Quite a striking one, too. He practices mostly family law, right here in town.”

  Lara felt her cheeks grow warm. Once upon a time she’d had a crush on Gideon. He’d been one of the few boys who hadn’t teased her about her hair color.

  “I’m glad you told me about your history with Theo, Aunt Fran. The thing is—how can I put this? I can’t help wondering if Theo’s battle over your land was really about you rejecting him all those years ago.”

  “I’ve often wondered the same,” Aunt Fran said. “And who knows, maybe that’s why he harassed me with such intensity. But it’s water over the dam, now. The reason doesn’t really matter, does it?”

  Lara shook her head. “No. I guess not.”

  Unless the police tried to use it as a motive for Aunt Fran to have killed Barnes. What if they thought Aunt Fran had never gotten over Theo, even though she’d been the one who’d ended things between them? It was obvious from Chief Whitley’s expression earlier that he’d known about the illfated engagement.

  A sudden ripple of melancholy washed over Lara. In the course of only a day, her life had been abruptly split in two. She felt like she was in a tug-of-war, with half the rope pulling her toward Boston, and the other half tugging harder into Whisker Jog.

  She so badly wanted to ask Aunt Fran why she’d gone into the yard the night before. Yes, it would put her aunt on the spot. But she couldn’t go on any longer without knowing. The truth would set them both free.

  She hoped.

  “Aunt Fran—” Lara began, when a dull thud somewhere in the small parlor nabbed her attention. She gave a start. “What was that? One of the cats?”r />
  “In that room?” Aunt Fran had a strange expression on her face. “I don’t think so.”

  Lara slid off her chair and scooted away to investigate. The door to the small parlor was open. Not a hint of a feline was in sight. She glanced around the room, seeing nothing out of place except—

  And then she laughed, relieved to see that it was only a book that had fallen to the floor in front of the red table. She went over to peek at the volume, and knew instantly whom it belonged to. The book was The Pickwick Papers, which meant it was Brooke’s.

  Poor Brooke. She’d obviously left it on the table by accident after she’d come in to study with her brother. She’d probably been so rattled by finding the bloody hoe that she’d forgotten to stick it back into her backpack.

  Lara picked up the volume, and then set it down flat on a nearby shelf with the title facing out. She’d have to remember to tell Brooke so she wouldn’t think she’d lost the dreaded classic.

  She glanced around the room again. Hadn’t Aunt Fran told her that the cats didn’t like this room?

  If that was the case, then who’d knocked over the book?

  Chapter 12

  By the time Lara returned to the kitchen, Aunt Fran was already setting their dishes in the sink.

  “Aunt Fran, I’ll take care of that,” Lara said. “There’s only a few, anyway.”

  Her aunt looked relieved. “Thank you. My knees are starting to get wobbly. It’s been a long day.” She unhooked her cane from its resting place on the counter and started toward the kitchen table.

  Lara secretly hoped Aunt Fran would turn in early. That way she could spend some quality time alone with the cats, getting to know them better. A few of them looked in desperate need of a good brushing.

  “Oh! Aunt Fran, I almost forgot to tell you,” Lara said. “This morning when I was looking for a vacuum-cleaner bag, Ballou came along and watched me from the doorway of the supply closet.”