Escape Claws

by Linda Reilly

  And I have to go back to Boston. The thought made Lara’s heart sink a little, though she wasn’t sure why.

  “I understand,” Mary said hoarsely. “And believe me, I hate spying on Chris like this. It’s not who I am. It’s not who…we are.”

  “I get that. I really do,” Lara said. “Chris loves you, Mary. That much is obvious. Why don’t you talk to him about it? You’ll feel a lot better afterward.”

  Mary’s face got puffy with tears again. “I know you’re right. I’m just not sure I can do that.” She swabbed her wet cheek with the heel of her hand. “Lara, I have to go. My boss’ll be looking for me. You probably noticed that this is a really busy store.”

  Lara didn’t want to make Mary late, or get her in trouble. But there was so much more she wanted to ask. She settled for one question. “Mary, I found a slip of paper—part of a napkin, I think—that fell out of your car yesterday. It said ‘Midnight Mary.’ It’s back at my aunt’s, in case you need it.”

  A crimson stain crept up Mary’s neck and into her cheeks. “I… Oh, right,” she said. “I forgot I had that. But no, I don’t need it. In fact, I meant to throw it away. You can toss it out.” She started to open her door, then turned and gave Lara a pleading look. “I’ll tell you who wrote it, but you have to promise you won’t tell Chris, okay?”

  Lara nodded. “Of course.”

  “You know Glen, the guy in our book club?” Mary’s mouth twisted into an angry frown. “He’s always trying to think of songs with the name Mary in them. Like, ‘Along Comes Mary’ and ‘Mary in the Morning.’ He writes them on slips of paper and passes them to me at book club. It drives me nuts. I hate when he does that.”

  “Have you asked him to stop?”

  “Yes, many times. But he doesn’t get it. He thinks it’s funny. I’m…thinking of dropping out of the club. I love Dora, and Brooke is a darling. But Glen has to go. Or I will.”

  Lara’s head was spinning into the red zone with all this new information. She scribbled a mental note to check out the song “Midnight Mary” when she got back to her aunt’s. Those songs Mary mentioned all sounded like oldies. Glen was in his sixties, at least. They probably came from his era.

  Now that she thought about it, Glen was another wild card. Barnes had evicted him from his apartment only hours before the murder. Didn’t he have as much of a motive for murder—if not more—than anyone?

  She felt Mary jiggling her arm. “You’ll throw it away, right?” Mary was saying.

  “Oh, um, the note? Sure—yes, I will. I’ll throw it in the wastebasket as soon as I get back to Aunt Fran’s.”

  But I won’t empty the wastebasket.

  Not until the cops figure out who killed Theo Barnes.

  Chapter 16

  On her way back to Aunt Fran’s, Lara drove through the center of town. She found herself smiling at how familiar everything looked.

  The block that housed Sherry’s coffee shop had been there for decades. When she and Sherry were kids, the spot occupied by the coffee shop had been one of the last of the old-fashioned drugstores. Lara remembered saving her allowance each year to buy Christmas gifts for her family. The pharmacy had stocked so many knickknacks and tchotchkes that she could do all her shopping there, and buy the wrapping paper, too.

  Over the years, the storefronts had changed, but the building still looked the same—light gray clapboard with white trim.

  The only blight in the tiny downtown area was the dreary apartment house on the opposite side of the street—the one Theo Barnes owned, or rather, had owned. With a paint job, a touch of corrective carpentry, and a bit of landscaping, it could have made for some attractive living quarters. Lara hated to think what the inside was like, if the façade was that neglected.

  As she drove past the town park, she was dismayed to see a large, dark-colored truck parked along the main drag. Its side panel identified it as the State Police Major Crime Unit vehicle.

  Lara groaned.

  Her stomach did a double-roll when she saw another truck parked next to the state vehicle. A cable-news van, its overhead dish looking large enough to receive transmissions from another galaxy, occupied two prime downtown parking slots.

  Gritting her teeth, Lara steered her rental car up High Cliff Road. She was grateful there weren’t any vehicles blocking Aunt Fran’s driveway. Lara grabbed her crafts-store purchases and darted onto the porch steps and into the house. She found Aunt Fran sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea and a slice of buttered toast.

  “Lara!” Aunt Fran sputtered. “Oh my heavens. Your…your hair.”

  Lara smiled. She plopped her bag onto a kitchen chair and sat down next to it. “Like it?”

  Aunt Fran’s face lit up. “I do. I really do. Did Kellie do that?”

  “Yup. She’s a miracle worker, isn’t she?”

  “She certainly gave you a lovely hairstyle. I’m surprised you let her trim that much, though. She must have cut off at least five inches.”

  “Yes, she did,” Lara said distractedly, distant memories coming at her like a comet.

  When she was a girl, she’d fought constantly with her mom over getting her hair cut. “I’m sick of finding that hair all over the house,” Brenda Caphart would shriek. “You’re getting that mess cut off today, and I don’t want to hear any arguments.”

  Lara would run to her room and sob. Only after a persuasive phone call from Aunt Fran would she give in and let her mom take her to a barber—never a salon—to chop off the bulk of the curls.

  “You’re a thousand miles away,” Aunt Fran said. “And you look a bit pale. Are you all right, Lara?”

  Lara shook herself back to reality. “I’m fine. I wasn’t thrilled to see the crime scene van out there, though. Or the news truck.”

  Aunt Fran’s smile was cryptic. “A reporter already tried to talk to me. I immediately locked the screen door and refused to let him inside.”

  “I suppose they have their jobs to do,” Lara said.

  With an odd twinkle of her green eyes, Aunt Fran said, “I kept telling him that I had no comment, but he still wouldn’t leave. Then Munster came strutting into the kitchen and ran straight toward the screen door. Munster put his paws on the door and let out one long meow. You should have seen the man’s face. His eyes widened, and he took a huge step backward. Poor fellow almost fell off the porch.”

  “Wait a minute. Munster scared him?” Lara couldn’t wrap her brain around that. The darling kitty was a bundle of love wrapped in a striped orange bow.

  “Yes, and…now that I think back to it, it was really quite strange. Before Munster came into the kitchen, the reporter kept peering through the screen, trying to see past me. I don’t know what he saw, or thought he saw, but the oddest look came over him. I suspect he harbors a fear of cats.”

  “You’re probably right,” Lara agreed, feeling sure it was something else.

  “Did you get what you needed at the crafts store?”

  “Yes! I’ve been missing my watercolors, so now at least I have a small supply.” Lara held up her bag from Jepson’s.

  Aunt Fran’s smile was guarded. “Does that mean you’re going to stay longer than you planned?”

  Lara wanted to say yes. She wanted to say she was going to stay forever.

  Oh, Lord. Where did that come from?

  All at once, a depressing thought struck her. Maybe Aunt Fran would have been better off if Lara hadn’t shown up at all. Once Lara returned to Boston, who was going to step in and help her?

  “I…I’m not sure, Aunt Fran. Everything is so, you know, up in the air right now.”

  Lara glanced at her aunt’s now-empty plate and mug. She quickly cleared the table and washed the dishes in the sink.

  After tidying the kitchen, Lara fetched the grooming supplies she’d put away the night before. Aunt Fran joined her in the large parlor while she gave Twinkles a thorough brushing.

  Dolce was next. Lara had to pry his sleepy form off her aunt’s
lap, but once she started grooming him he closed his eyes and purred with bliss.

  “You’ve made some wonderful feline friends these last few days,” Aunt Fran noted. The hint of sadness in her voice pierced Lara’s heart like an arrow.

  Lara lifted Dolce and kissed his nose, then returned him to her aunt’s lap. She should have been pleased by her aunt’s declaration, but instead it felt like a guilt trip.

  She managed to corral Cheetah and Lilybee—Bootsie’s kittens—and give them each a gentle brushing. Their spotted tummies were so adorable she couldn’t resist planting noisy kisses on them.

  “I wish I could nab Callie and Luna,” Lara told her aunt. “How did they end up here?”

  “They’re darling, aren’t they? They’ve only been here a few weeks. I found them on my porch one morning, stuffed inside a cardboard box with holes punched in the top. It was obvious they’d come from a bad situation—they were terrified when I first brought them inside. I suspect some kind soul rescued them and dumped them here, knowing I’d care for them. But they’re still very young. In time, they’ll come around. The one I’m not sure of is Ballou.”

  Lara grinned, picturing the handsome black kitty with the white ’stache. Deep down, she felt sure Ballou would eventually emerge from his shell. It was going to take time, and a lot of patience. It would be up to Aunt Fran to work at socializing him after Lara left.

  “What happened to Ballou’s ear?” Lara asked. “Do you think he lost the tip in a fight with another cat?”

  Aunt Fran smiled. “No. It means that, at some point, he was trapped, neutered, and released. I was actually relieved when I saw that.”

  “Really?” Lara had never heard of that. “Who do you think did it?”

  “There’s a group that operates in Carroll County, helping feral cats. The vet nicks off the tip of the ear so that if anyone finds him, or wants to take him in, they’ll know he’s been neutered. And vaccinated.”

  Lara was confused. “Then…how did he end up here, with you?”

  “It’s an odd story,” Aunt Fran said. “Ballou showed up here one raw, rainy day this past spring. The rain was coming down in buckets, and the poor darling looked drenched to the bone. He must have been desperate, because he came onto the porch to get out of the deluge.”

  “It would break my heart to see that,” Lara said. “Do you think he sensed there were cats in the house?”

  “He might have. Anyway, I put a bowl of dry food and some fresh water on the porch for him, but he panicked and took off the moment he saw me. Something told me he’d be back, though. Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later I caught him gobbling the food from that bowl.”

  “How did you lure him inside?”

  “That was the strange part. I didn’t have to lure him at all. I opened the door wide and spoke softly to him in a singsong sort of tone. He lifted his head and seemed to sniff the air. I think he felt the warmth coming from the kitchen. But he also seemed to be staring at something behind me. And then, like a shot, he dashed inside. I only saw him for a moment, because he quickly disappeared.”

  “Huh,” Lara said. “Except for that one encounter I had, I never see him. I wonder where he hangs out in the house.” She picked a blob of cat hair off her sweater. “I’m surprised he hasn’t tried to go back outside.”

  Aunt Fran leaned back in her chair. She gave Lara a mischievous smile. “I think he spends his days in your room, Lara. He feels safe under your bed.”

  My bed, Lara thought. She realized with a jolt that Aunt Fran still thought of the spare room as Lara’s.

  “What? No,” Lara insisted. “I’d have seen him.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  Aunt Fran was right. Since Lara had arrived on Wednesday, she hadn’t spent a lot of time in her room. And when she had, she’d mostly been asleep.

  “All your other cats are neutered, right?” Lara said.

  “Of course they are. Except for the kittens. They’re not quite ready yet.”

  Lara wondered if Aunt Fran was worrying about how to pay for it, too. One more thing they’d have to talk about before Lara hightailed it back to Boston.

  For a while they sat in cozy silence. The feeling of serenity should have given Lara comfort, but instead it made her sad.

  She suddenly realized what was missing.

  “Hey, Aunt Fran, aren’t the kids coming today?”

  “Not today,” her aunt said. “Their mom has the day off, so she’s picking them up after school. She promised to take Darryl shopping for a Halloween costume.”

  “Oh.” Lara smiled. Darryl was such a great kid. She hoped he found the perfect costume. A giraffe would suit him nicely.

  Next on Lara’s agenda was litter-box duty. She emptied and cleaned each one, then added fresh litter. She scrubbed the areas around the litter boxes, where odors clung. The sharp smell she’d detected when she first entered the house on Wednesday was slowly, but surely, dissipating.

  Lara was dumping a bag of trash in the outside barrel when she spotted movement in her aunt’s grassy field. It was the crime scene techs, trekking back to their van. One of them carried several paper bags, and the other juggled lighting equipment. Both wore protective gear, including booties that made them look like invaders from outer space.

  She was glad to see that the media truck had left.

  Arms crossed against the chill, she glanced out over the field. The ugly yellow tape was still in place. It skirted the far side of her aunt’s land, almost to the edge of the brook.

  Apparently, the techs weren’t yet done collecting evidence. Which meant they’d probably be back on Saturday. Or maybe they’d just wanted to discourage any nosy types who might think schlepping over a crime scene was a fun new form of entertainment.

  A speck of movement at the bank of the brook caught Lara’s eye. Was that— Yes! It was Blue.

  This time, she intended to keep the cat in her sights.

  Lara bounded across the yard, circling the shed, which was imprisoned by yellow ribbon. The sacks of tulip bulbs still sat where Brooke and Dora had left them, near the brick walkway. The techs had extended the crime scene tape to include her aunt’s shed and a large section of the vacant lot. The route around the barrier would be circuitous, but she was determined to catch up with the elusive Ragdoll cat.

  The path around the tape was rocky as she picked her way downhill. The last thing she needed was a sprained ankle. When she finally reached the foot of the hill, she hoofed it along the edge of the brook.

  She smiled when she spotted Blue. This time she had her cell in her pocket, so she’d definitely get a pic of the cat. The thought inspired her to move her feet along even faster.

  Lara was almost at the far side of the lot, close to the bank of the brook, when suddenly she felt herself pitching headlong into space. She landed facedown on the cold ground. What the— She shuddered. Was this déjà vu all over again?

  Something had caught the tip of her boot and sent her flying. This time it was something hard, metallic.

  Lara pushed into a sitting position. Bits of dirt stuck to her jeans, but she ignored them. She looked all around. She knew it was silly, but she was terrified that another body might pop into her line of vision.

  Eventually she breathed out a sigh. No corpses today, she thought soberly.

  The only thing she saw was a length of metal piping, about eight inches high, jutting out of the ground at an angle. That’s what she’d tripped over!

  And then she spied movement, barely ten or twelve feet away. A feline face peeking through the grass.

  Lara felt her irritation dissolve and her face crack into a smile. Moving almost in slo-mo, she pulled her cell out of her pocket and aimed the camera. Through the phone’s display, she saw two furry ears sticking up through the weeds, above a pair of bright blue eyes. She zoomed in—a feature she loved about her phone—and snapped two photos in quick succession.

  “Gotcha this time, Blue,” Lara murmured.

&n
bsp; She tapped the “photos” app on her phone.

  Hmm. No sign of a cat in either pic. Had she taken them from too far away? Or had Blue ducked lower into the grass when she’d sensed her cover had been blown?

  Why are you so mysterious, beautiful girl? Why are you such an escape artist?

  Lara looked back at the spot where she’d seen Blue. The cat was no longer there. Using her fingers, Lara enlarged the first pic, and then the second. But the furry ears and shining blue eyes she was sure she’d seen were not in either photo.

  Frustrated and annoyed, Lara brushed off her jeans. She rose to her feet and trod over to examine the metal rod she’d stumbled over.

  The rod was solid and about half an inch wide. She tried to jiggle it free, but it wouldn’t budge. Who had planted it there, and why?

  The sky was growing darker, charcoal swatches melding with the clouds. It was the type of sky she loved to paint when she was in a sullen mood.

  Lara shivered. In her haste to catch up with Blue, she hadn’t even gone inside for her jacket. The October chill was beginning to seep into her bones.

  Her aunt, no doubt, was wondering where she’d gone off to. With an exasperated sigh, Lara climbed the hill again, going around the back side of the shed toward the porch. She turned and glanced once more over the grassy lot. Then she scooted back inside to the warmth of her aunt’s home.

  Chapter 17

  “Once again, Lara, you’ve outdone yourself,” Aunt Fran said. “That lasagna was one of the best I’ve ever tasted.”

  Lara grinned, then wiped the blob of marinara sauce she felt drizzling down one side of her mouth. During her marketing excursion the day before, she’d bought the ingredients for a spinach lasagna. She decided to take a shot at making it. She’d watched Gabby do it several times, and thought she could remember the steps.

  The dish came out even better than she’d hoped. Loaded with creamy ricotta and fresh mozzarella, it was tasty and rich and downright delicious. If she did say so herself.

  Right now, though, Lara didn’t want to think about Gabby. She felt guilty enough for ditching her bakery job, even temporarily, with so little notice.