by Linda Reilly
“Didn’t he grow up around here?” Lara prodded. “Maybe he had friends he wanted to visit.”
Alice looked hard at Lara, then rose from her chair. “We both grew up around here. Different sides of the track, as they say, but who cares? None of that matters anymore, does it?”
The abrupt change in mood startled Lara. Did Alice expect an answer? Lara opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Alice refastened the top button of her cape. “Lara, let me explain something to you. In the event there’s any doubt, Todd and I are a couple. We have been for a very long time, over a period of decades, in fact. It’s been rocky at times, but we’ve endured.”
“That’s fine,” Lara said. “I mean, I wasn’t—”
“I sensed he was a bit taken with you when he met you yesterday,” Alice barreled on. “Who wouldn’t be? You’re very fetching, and quite charming.” She inched toward the door and reached out a hand toward the doorknob. Her parting smile had all the charm of a barracuda’s. “All I’m saying is, don’t let it go to your head. Todd is spoken for. Are we clear on that?”
Lara couldn’t believe her ears. Alice was warning her to stay away from Todd, a man she’d met only yesterday. A man old enough to be her dad!
Not that Lara had any interest in him—she didn’t. She was grateful he’d wanted to support the shelter, but that was all. Lara was tempted to tell Alice about Gideon, but she refused to be baited. Lara’s personal relationship was none of Alice’s business.
“Well, thanks again for coming by,” Lara said, ignoring Alice’s question. She somehow managed to stretch her lips into a smile. “Have a great day, and stay warm.”
Alice’s own fake smile collapsed. She pulled open the door and clomped down the steps. Lara watched to be sure she made it to the limo without falling, then pushed the door shut, hard.
“Unbelievable! And since when am I fetching?”
“What are you fetching?”
Lara whirled to see Kayla standing directly behind her, Snowball perched on her shoulder. “I’m not fetching anything. Alice Gentry called me fetching.”
Kayla shook her head. “I hate to be critical, but I did not care for that woman. Something tells me she is not a champion for animals.”
“I think you’re right.” Lara reached over and rubbed Snowball’s forehead. “The only one she’s a champion for is Todd Thryce. She actually had the gall to warn me that he was spoken for. Spoken for! Like this was some nineteen eighties drama.”
“You mean, she thought you had a thing for him?”
“Exactly. Oh, but wait till you see the donation we got from him!” She showed Kayla the check.
Kayla pumped a fist. “Yay! What a cool guy.”
“Cool indeed,” Lara said. “You and I have talked about so many projects. This will give us a nice boost, won’t it?”
“Yes, it will.” Kayla looked thoughtful. “Sometimes I get real down about stuff, especially around the holidays. I want to save every animal in the world, but I know I can’t. No matter what we do here, it never seems like it’s enough, does it?”
Lara got it. Mentally, she’d been down that road many times. “I know what you’re saying, but look at everything we’ve done so far. Remember when you rescued that litter in July? Four of them now have permanent, loving homes. That’s because of you, Kayla.”
“Except no one wanted Snowball.” She pulled the cat’s face against her own.
“I know. But Snowball is safe here, and loved. That’s also because of you.”
Kayla heaved a sigh. “I hear you, Lara. But doesn’t it ever get to you? That we can’t save them all?”
“It does get to me, but think of it this way: every cat we save is a victory. Which reminds me...” She told Kayla about the tortie at the school that Jason Blakely had been feeding.
Kayla dug out her phone and checked the time. “It’s only a little after one. Maybe you and I should go over there and try to find her. Even if she doesn’t show up, at least we can leave her some food.”
“You know, that’s not a bad plan.”
* * * *
Kayla offered to drive to the school, so Lara hopped into the passenger seat of her little Honda Fit. Kayla had bought the used car during the summer and, so far, hadn’t had an ounce of trouble with it. The car was reliable, if small—perfect for getting her to and from her vet tech classes.
On the ride over to the school, Lara grew tense. Alice Gentry’s visit had temporarily distracted her. She needed to get back to the real problem—figuring out who killed Miss Plouffe. If it was even murder.
“Uh-oh,” Kayla said, pulling into the school parking lot. “Cop cars. Two of them.”
Kayla was right. Two unmarked Dodge Chargers sat facing one another at the far end of the lot. The crime scene van that had been there the day before was gone.
“Staties,” Lara said. “Probably searching the kitchen again. Or maybe the entire school.” She told Kayla what the chief had said about shellfish being on the cookie.
“I knew a guy once who was allergic to shellfish,” Kayla said. “He couldn’t go anywhere near the stuff, especially shrimp. This one time? He ordered a burger in a restaurant, but his girlfriend ordered a shrimp salad. All of a sudden, his throat closed up. I wasn’t there, but I heard his face turned purple and he couldn’t breathe at all.”
Miss Plouffe’s face had been purple. Lara shivered at the memory.
“What happened?”
“Like I said, I heard the story secondhand, but his girlfriend knew he carried injectable allergy medication with him. She dug one out of his pocket and jabbed him with it. Thank God she was a nursing student. She knew how to act fast in an emergency.”
Did Miss Plouffe carry the same medication with her? Or had she been so sure she’d never come in contact with shellfish that she didn’t bother taking precautions?
Kayla parked her car at the opposite end of the lot from where the police cars were. “Hopefully they won’t try to stop us from approaching the school. Do you know where the back entrance to the kitchen is?”
“Nope. I went to high school in Massachusetts. I don’t know the layout at all.” She nodded toward the wooded area that lined the rear of the school property. “I’m wondering if the kitty hunkers down in the woods, assuming she’s really homeless. I’m guessing there’s a rear door to the kitchen in back of the school. Jason said that’s where the cat comes to get food.”
Kayla shut off her engine, and Lara pulled the cat carrier out of the back seat. Together they walked toward the school. They skirted the southern side, their boots crunching over the snow, and went around to the back.
“Hey!” a male voice called from behind them. “What are you two doing there?”
“Uh-oh,” Kayla whispered.
Turning, Lara waved to the tall, heavyset man glaring at them from about twenty feet away. “Stay here,” she said quietly, then smiled and strode toward him.
“Good morning, we’re from the High Cliff Shelter for Cats. We’re responding to a call about a stray cat that’s been coming around the school. By any chance, have you seen a cat?”
The officer stood there, apparently unwilling to walk through the snow to meet her halfway. When she was a few feet from him, he opened his jacket and flashed his state police badge. “You have any ID?” he said sternly as Lara approached.
“I do, yes.” She dug out her license and held it up.
He took it from her, then grumped, “This is a Massachusetts license.”
“I know. I live in Whisker Jog now, but my Mass license is still in effect, so I haven’t applied for a New Hampshire one yet.”
The man gave it back to her and stared in Kayla’s direction. As if to confirm their mission, Kayla held up the cat carrier and waved at him.
“I haven’t seen a cat,” he said, “but so long a
s you stay away from the building you can have a look-see. I suggest you make it fast. We’ve got enough to do without hanging around to babysit you two. Cat or no cat, you’ve got ten minutes.”
Definitely not a cat person, Lara thought.
“Yes, sir. Thank you. We’ll do our best.”
Lara turned and headed back toward Kayla. “We’ve got ten minutes.”
They clumped around to the back of the school, then stopped to take stock of their surroundings. Behind the building, three separate doors greeted them. In front of the middle door, Lara spotted something jutting out of the snow. “Is that a paper plate?”
“I think so. Let’s check it out.”
They picked up the pace and trotted over to the thing sticking out of the snow. “Yup. Definitely a paper plate. This must be where Jason’s been feeding the cat.” Lara pulled the soggy plate out of the snow and shook it out. She held it up to her nose. “There was something fishy on it, for sure,” she said and glanced toward the woods.
“Oh, Lara, look. There’s fresh paw prints all around. That poor little cat must have come looking for food today.”
Lara sighed with frustration. Sometimes trying to help a cat only ended in disappointment. Or heartbreak.
“Even if we don’t spot her, we’ll leave some food here for her,” Lara said. “I sure wish she’d show her face, though. She’s got to be hungry. If she smells the kibble we brought, we might be able to entice her into the carrier.”
Lara reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a plastic bag. She unzipped the top, set the paper plate down flat in the snow, and emptied the cat food onto it.
Kayla, meanwhile, was trudging through the snow, trying to follow the cat’s prints. She returned several minutes later, looking dejected. “I got as far as the trees, but then her footprints, like, disappeared. Oh, Lara, what if a predator got her?”
“Think positive,” Lara said. “She was here today for sure, because her prints are in the snow. Tomorrow’s Monday, so I’ll get in touch with Jason Blakely after school opens. Maybe we can work with him to trap her.”
Kayla’s gaze shifted. She stared over Lara’s shoulder. “That trooper is back, and he’s coming our way.”
“That’s okay. We left food out for her. She’ll probably come looking for it after we leave.”
“You girls done here?” the trooper said, breathing hard now as he approached them.
Lara pasted on her best smile. “Yes, and thank you for your patience, officer. Unfortunately, we didn’t spot the cat, but we left some food out for her in case she comes back.”
The trooper barely refrained from rolling his eyes.
Taking the hint, Lara hurried toward the parking area, Kayla trailing behind her. The officer turned and followed them. Arms crossed over his chest, he watched until Kayla started the little Honda and drove out of the lot.
Lara buckled her seat belt. “Mission accomplished, partly,” she said. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”
“I have classes tomorrow,” Kayla said dolefully. “But I’d rather be here, trying to find that little tortie!”
“Kayla, don’t stress over it. I’ll contact Jason and try to work something out with him. He sounded as anxious as we are to get her into the shelter.”
On the short drive back to Aunt Fran’s, they stuck to safe topics, such as how to wisely use the donation from Todd Thryce. Cat food, kitty litter, and cleaning supplies ate up a sizeable portion of the shelter’s funds. Veterinary bills used up another big chunk, and Kayla’s salary, while not huge, was yet another expense.
Kayla swung into the shelter’s parking area and killed her engine. “I wonder how things are going with the Bowkers,” she said, pushing her glasses higher on her nose.
“I’ll text Sherry as soon as we get in,” Lara said. The search for the cat had temporarily distracted her, but now she really had to focus on helping Daisy and Sherry.
The other thing nagging at Lara was the letter, the one that had dropped out of the library book. No way could she show it to the chief. Not now, not with Gladys’s death hanging over everyone. She didn’t want to burden Aunt Fran with it. Her aunt was too worried about Daisy to add one more concern to her plate. And she certainly couldn’t show it to Sherry.
Lara unbuckled her seat belt. “Kayla, something odd happened to me a few days ago. I’ve been wanting to share it with someone, but, well, the timing hasn’t been right. I was going to wait till the cookie competition was over, but now, with Miss Plouffe...” She broke off and stared through the windshield into the snow-covered yard.
“Is it something bad?” Kayla asked, looking a bit frightened.
“Kind of,” Lara said. “But it happened when I was born, close to thirty years ago.”
“You’re that old?” Kayla said. “I always thought you were only a few years older than me.”
Lara couldn’t help laughing. “I’ll be twenty-nine next March.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You look so young!”
“Well, thanks, I think. Anyway, I’m guessing this is something you’ll be interested in.” Lara had learned after they first hired Kayla that the young woman was an aficionado of true crime. Since she was a kid, she’d been collecting articles about real criminal cases in New Hampshire.
“Does it have anything to do with cats?” Kayla asked, trekking beside Lara toward the steps to the back porch.
“Be careful, I haven’t shoveled out here yet,” Lara cautioned. She unlocked the porch door. “It does, in a way, but it’s bigger than that. It’s about a possible murder...an old murder,” she emphasized.
Kayla’s eyes widened behind her glasses. “Then it sounds like it’s right up my alley.”
Chapter 8
Kayla pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know what to say, Lara. This letter kind of blows my mind, you know?” She stuck her glasses back on her face. “It’s the timing that really slays me. This letter falls out of a book only a few days before the police start investigating a real murder.” She pushed the sheet of paper across the table toward Lara.
“A possible real murder,” Lara countered. She still wasn’t convinced that Miss Plouffe’s death had been the result of foul play.
Valenteena strutted into the meet-and-greet room, eliciting smiles from both women. The kitty issued a plaintive meow and leaped onto Kayla’s lap. “Hey there, cutie-pie,” Kayla said, pulling the kitty’s face close to her own. “You looking for treats again?”
The cat responded by climbing onto the table and placing her forepaws on the window.
“She wants to go out, doesn’t she?” Kayla asked.
“Oh boy, does she ever. I have to watch her like a hawk any time someone comes in. She’s ready to make a dash for freedom at the slightest chance.”
“I’ve actually thought a lot about her,” Kayla said. “I think she’d do well in a large home that has lots of room to explore. Maybe that way she’d be less likely to want to escape.”
“You might be right.” Lara sipped her cooling cocoa.
Kayla stroked Teena’s furry back. “Back to this letter. Today’s Sunday, so the library’s closed. I have classes most of the day tomorrow. My last class ends at three, though. Maybe I’ll pop over there tomorrow afternoon and do some digging. I’m very familiar with their microfiche room.”
Lara smiled. She’d learned from Kayla several months earlier that the Whisker Jog Public Library kept copies of newspapers from all over the state stored on microfiche. The library’s records apparently dated pretty far back. “That would be terrific, if you could squeeze it into your schedule. I’d start with obituaries at the beginning of March 1990.”
“Maybe I’ll even find your birth notice. That would be a trip, wouldn’t it?” Kayla grinned at Lara.
“Yeah, that would be a hoot,” Lara said dryly. “The victi
m—if there really was one—was an elderly woman. No way of knowing where she died, but it had to be someplace local for that letter to have ended up in the library book.”
“Can you make a copy of the letter for me?”
“Sure can. Remind me before you leave, okay?”
They spent the remainder of the afternoon grooming the cats and freshening the litter boxes. Kayla left a little after four, a copy of the mysterious letter tucked inside her purse. She looked worried, and Lara knew she was thinking of the little tortie behind the school.
Lara checked the shelter’s Facebook page again. So far, she hadn’t gotten a call or a message from Jason Blakely.
“You look wiped out,” Aunt Fran said from the doorway of the back porch. Snowball, the lovable shoulder cat, gazed at Lara from his favorite perch.
Lara gave her a wan smile. “I am. Funny how mental fatigue morphs into the physical. Right now, I feel as if I couldn’t hold a paintbrush.” She told her aunt about her and Kayla’s jaunt to the school to search for the stray tortie.
“You’ll get her,” Aunt Fran said. “You said there were police cars at the school?”
“Yeah. Kind of depressing, isn’t it? Did you ever reach Daisy?”
Aunt Fran shook her head. “She apparently doesn’t want to talk to anyone. After giving it some thought, I decided not to go over to her house. If she wants to talk to me, she knows where I am.”
“I’ll try to reach Sherry,” Lara said. “By now the police should have finished their search of the coffee shop.”
Aunt Fran came farther into the room and sat down next to Lara. She snugged Snowball against her chest. “I went to the Shop-Along for a few things while you and Kayla were gone. I’d have sworn I saw Daisy in the market. I called to her, but she didn’t seem to hear me. But when she turned the corner, I realized it wasn’t her.”
“Huh. That’s interesting. I thought I saw Daisy yesterday, but Sherry insisted she hadn’t gone to the school. She showed up after the judging had already started, but I was sure I’d seen her earlier in the school lobby, and wearing a different coat.”
