Claws for Celebration

by Linda Reilly

  The woman, who’d identified herself as Mrs. Hudson, plopped her handbag on the table and frowned. “I see.” She snatched up her cookie and took a tiny nibble, then wiped her lips with her fingers. “And you said the white cat is about six months old, but has two odd-colored eyes?”

  Lara tamped down her annoyance. “She has two different-colored eyes, but she’s warm and sweet and loving.” And you’re not getting her. No way. No how. “Mrs. Hudson, I haven’t quite finished. We don’t encourage the adoption of cats as gifts, especially to young children. Bringing a cat into your home is a huge commitment. For the adoption to be successful, a cat or kitten can’t be treated as toy. It’s a living creature with feelings and specific needs.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Mrs. Hudson huffed. “I’m not an idiot. And I can assure you, my son and daughter-in-law are both very smart. I’m sure they can take care of a cat.”

  Lara’s patience, which she normally had in abundance, was thinning down to a nub.

  “Mrs. Hudson, let me ask you something. Do they know you’re planning to give their daughter a kitten?”

  The woman flushed. “Well, no, not yet. I guess they’ll all get a surprise on Christmas, won’t they?” She jabbed her male friend with her elbow. Like a wind-up doll, he shoved his cookie into his mouth and nodded. “Besides, I was going to see if we could leave it here and pick it up on Christmas Eve. I don’t have...any way to care for it at home.”

  Of course you don’t.

  “This is my suggestion,” Lara said. “After the holidays, if your son and daughter-in-law are interested in adopting, we’d be glad to have them bring their daughter here for a visit. They can spend as much time as they’d like getting to know some of the cats. In the meantime, I can give you one of our welcome packages. It explains everything you need to do to make your new cat’s home—”

  With a dismissive flap of her hand, Mrs. Hudson hoisted herself off her chair, snatched up her cookie and her satchel, and flicked her knuckles at her companion. “Let’s go.”

  Lara watched them sweep out the door without even a goodbye.

  Yeah, happy holidays to you, too.

  Kayla popped in from around the corner, Snowball balanced on her shoulder. “I heard most of that,” she said tartly. “I purposely stayed out of here so I wouldn’t be tempted to go for that witch’s throat.”

  “She was so clueless,” Lara said, straightening the table runner. “If we had twenty kittens here, I still wouldn’t have let her adopt.” She plucked a few cookie crumbs off the chair the woman had vacated, then dropped onto it.

  Kayla sat down beside her and took Snowball into her lap. The kitty closed her eyes and curled up for a snooze. “You look glum,” she said to Lara.

  “I feel so bad about interrogating Todd Thryce the way I did. He looked so sad about Alice. He’s loved her forever. Then I had to go and remind him of all their troubles.”

  Kayla ran her fingers through Snowball’s fur. “Yeah, I get what you’re saying. But remember, he could’ve been acting. That’s what sociopaths do—they’re manipulators. They suck you into making you feel sorry for them. I read a whole book about it.”

  Lara shook her head. A man who loved cats that much couldn’t be a sociopath. Could he?

  “Hey, look, Lara, I gotta go,” Kayla said. “Everyone’s been groomed, and all the litter boxes have been changed.”

  Lara got up and gave her an impulsive hug. “Thank you. I can’t imagine how we ever got along without you. By the way, Todd Thryce gave me another check before he left. This time from his own personal account, not a company donation.”

  Kayla rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay, but remember—he’s got plenty of dough to go around. It’s probably pocket change for him.”

  Lara smiled. Kayla was still applying her sociopath theory to Todd. “Message received, but it’s pocket change we can use. Anyway, adoption hours are over. After Aunt Fran gets back, I’ll see if she still needs me to go to the market.”

  * * * *

  Aunt Fran returned loaded with shopping bags, looking tired and ready for a nap. “I remember, now, why I hate holiday shopping,” she said. She dropped her things in the front hallway and removed her tweed jacket and gloves.

  “Can I help you put stuff away?”

  Aunt Fran snatched up the bags so Lara couldn’t peek. “Absolutely not. You mind your business, young lady,” she said with a wink.

  Lara chuckled. She hoped her aunt hadn’t overdone buying gifts for everyone, especially for her. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t going to peek. You still need me to go to the market?”

  “Oh, that would be wonderful. I almost headed over there myself, but the traffic was a nightmare. The light at Elm and Second was backed up to the North Pole. I think there was a fender-bender clogging up the works.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll take the back road and go into Shop-Along’s rear entrance.”

  Grocery list in hand, Lara put on her things and jumped into the car. It was still warm. She turned on the radio and found a station playing traditional holiday music.

  She groaned when she swung into the rear parking lot at the Shop-Along. The place was packed tighter than sardines in a tin. After cruising around the lot twice, she finally spotted a good-sized SUV pulling out of a parking space. She quickly nabbed it before someone else got it. Reaching into the back seat, she retrieved her reusable shopping bag.

  Inside the store, the aisles were crowded with shoppers. Instead of grabbing one of the large carts, she pulled a handheld basket from the pile near the door and looped it over her arm. She checked her aunt’s list. Yellow onion, wheat bread, crabmeat (8-ounce package), can of pumpkin (15-ounce).

  Not bad. If she hustled, she could get through the list quickly. She started with the nonperishables, then headed toward the section of the store where the deli meats and seafood were located.

  The line at the deli was mind-boggling. Luckily, the crabmeat was in a large refrigerated unit where the packaged seafood was displayed, so she didn’t need to take a number. She perused her choices. She thought her aunt had mentioned a brand name, but if she had, the name had escaped her. Her breath caught when she saw the bags of cooked lobster meat. Is this where the lobster had come from that killed Gladys Plouffe?

  “Need some help?”

  Lara swiveled around. Jason Blakely was standing directly behind her, a jaunty elf hat sitting atop his head. His white apron, imprinted with the store name, was dotted with stains. “Jason, this is a surprise!”

  “Hi, Lara. This is my other job,” he said, his smile revealing yellowed teeth. “Helps pay the bills and keeps me off the streets.”

  Lara laughed. “Well, that’s a good thing, I guess.”

  “What are you looking for?” he asked.

  “My aunt sent me for an eight-ounce package of crabmeat. Any idea which brand is best?”

  Jason opened the glass-front door and pulled out a silver package. He closed the door. “I’d go with this one. Most of our customers prefer it to the others. Pricey, though.”

  Lara winced at the price, then dropped the package into her basket. “In this case, I think it’s okay. My aunt wants it for a special occasion. Thanks, Jason.”

  Jason’s gaze shifted to the person standing behind Lara, then Lara felt a light tap on her shoulder. She turned, and recognition dawned instantly. It was the woman who worked with Jason in the school cafeteria. Strands of her dark brown hair curled around her face from beneath a red crocheted hat.

  “I remember you,” the woman said in her lilting tone, one hand resting on the handle of her cart. “That pretty red hair. Who could miss it? You’re Lara.”

  “And you’re Rose Stevens. So nice to see you again.”

  The woman sighed and looked at the list in her hand. “Jason, you need to help me. I can’t find the ground chuck in the case—only the ground
round. Can you grind some for me?”

  “Sure, Rose. How much you need?”

  “Two pounds.”

  Jason grinned at her. “Spaghetti and meatballs for the fam, right? Every Friday,” he said.

  “You got it. You never forget.” She winked at Lara.

  But Lara barely noticed. She was gawking at Rose’s grocery list. That handwriting. It looked like the writing on the mystery letter! A bit more refined, but with the same tilt to the letters.

  After Jason went off to grind the meat, Rose shoved the list into her pocket. “Thank the Lord, after this I’m done. I’ll be glad to get home. Long day.” She stared at Lara as if sizing her up. “That Jason, he’s such a nice boy, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, he is,” Lara agreed, only half listening. She wanted to see that grocery list again!

  “If only he could meet a girl as nice as he is,” Rose went on, shaking her head. “But these days, everybody wants to meet online. No one wants to meet in person anymore. Or meet at church, like they used to.”

  “Yes, I know what you mean. Well, it was nice seeing you again, Rose,” Lara said. “Have a great holiday!”

  Rose started to say something, but Lara dashed off before she could finish her sentence.

  Something tickled her brain.

  She hurried to the checkout and paid for her purchases. Rose had said the burger was the last thing on her list, which meant she should be in one of the checkout lines within a few minutes. If Lara timed it right, she might be able to catch her in the parking lot.

  Her tote over her shoulder and her shopping bag clutched in her hand, Lara headed outside into the freezing night. She stood near the entrance to the store, close enough to spot Rose leaving, but not so close that she blocked the shoppers who were streaming in and out. She fished her cell phone out of her tote and pretended to check her messages.

  When she spotted the red hat bobbing toward the parking area, she hurriedly shoved her phone in her pocket and tailed the woman.

  Rose walked slowly, her shoulders drooping from the weight of her two bags. She wove her way among the cars, then stopped when she reached a dark-colored sedan. The parking space on the driver’s side was vacant, giving Lara plenty of room to approach her.

  Shifting one bag to the other hand, Rose dug her car key out of her pocket. She’d just clicked open the trunk lock when Lara came up behind her. Lara didn’t want to frighten her, but she had to know.

  “Rosalba?”

  Rose Stevens dropped her keys and whirled around. She crossed herself hurriedly. “Oh, my dear sweet Lord, I didn’t hear you. You scared me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lara said, picking up Rose’s keys and handing them to her. “I didn’t mean to. I only wanted to talk to you.”

  “I...you knew my name.”

  “I wasn’t sure. Not until now.”

  Rose’s face, half hidden in shadow, looked frozen in fear. “I can’t talk to you. I have an appointment with someone.” She hurried over to her trunk, shoved the door open higher, and dropped her bags inside. She slammed the trunk shut.

  “That’s okay. I just wanted to ask you a quick question—about Pine Hollow.”

  Rose sucked in a loud gasp. Even under the dim glow afforded by the parking lot lights, Lara saw the woman’s face go ash-gray. “That was a long time ago. I don’t remember anymore. Please, I have to go. Someone’s waiting for me.”

  “I thought you were making spaghetti for your family,” Lara said.

  “I am! But first I have to meet someone.”

  Lara heard a vehicle swing into the vacant spot next to Rose’s car, but she ignored it. The driver got out and slammed the door. Lara waited for a few seconds, then moved closer to Rose. “Rose, I found the letter. You wrote it, didn’t you?”

  Rose backed up hard against her car and folded her hands over her mouth. She shook her head and gave out a choked sob.

  “Did you now?” The voice came from behind Lara.

  Lara whirled and saw a large black pickup parked next to Rose, so close that she felt trapped between the two vehicles. She had only seconds to register the face before the world went dark.

  Chapter 30

  Lara shivered and forced open her eyes, her head throbbing from the effort. Something had struck her, forcefully. That was the last thing she remembered.

  She lay on her side, on a rock-hard surface. Her hands were secured in front of her with enough duct tape to build a tank, and her ankles were bound tight. She tried to take in gulps of fresh air, but something scratchy and rank-smelling, like a moldy blanket, covered her entire body.

  Where was she?

  She turned and twisted, every muscle screaming, but the blanket—or whatever it was—wouldn’t budge.

  Wherever she was, it had to be outside. The temperature had dropped considerably since she’d left the house. If she stayed like this much longer, she’d die from hypothermia.

  Or suffocation.

  The pain in her head worsened with every second, as if someone was pounding barbecue forks into her ears.

  A metallic clang behind her made her heart jump. Then someone was crouching next to her, pulling off the covering and shoving her into a sitting position. “One word and I’ll kill you and Rosalba. Do you hear me?”

  Lara nodded, tears stinging her eyes. She knew the voice.

  Lara felt herself being dragged to the edge of the truck’s bed. In the next instant, two strong hands shoved her out of the truck. She shrieked when she hit the frozen snow.

  “I told you to keep your mouth shut,” Alice Gentry said.

  Looking around, Lara tried to get her bearings. Everything looked fuzzy. The building in the distance, however, looked dimly familiar. She’d been here before. Recently.

  To her left, she saw Rose Stevens propped against a shed of some sort, her hands secured in front of her and her ankles bound. Her eyes closed, Rose listed to one side. Please, let her be alive, Lara silently prayed.

  The only light came from the reflection of the night sky off the frozen snow. Lara risked a glance at Alice. Her burgundy cape was buttoned up to her neck, her scarf slightly askew. Her pretty features had hardened into an enraged mask.

  “Where are we?” Lara said. “We’re going to freeze out here.”

  “Where’s the letter?” Alice demanded.

  Lara frowned at her. “Letter? What letter?”

  “Don’t play coy. I don’t have time.”

  “Why, are you going somewhere?”

  Alice reached down and slapped her, then marched over to the truck. Lara’s face stung from the blow, and she forced back tears.

  Her phone—it was in her coat pocket. She’d shoved it there back at the market after she’d pretended to check for messages.

  Seconds later, Alice returned, a rifle propped in her arms. From the way she was holding it, Lara suspected she knew how to use it.

  “You own a rifle, Alice?” Lara said, willing her voice not to tremble.

  “I don’t have to own it. My brother does. He’s a game warden. I was a kid when he taught me how to shoot. He was younger than me, but a crack shot.” She laughed. “I might be a bit rusty, but I can’t miss at this range.”

  That’s where she got the pickup, Lara realized. “Todd said you were going shopping at the outlet stores.”

  She smirked. “Todd talks too much. I gave our driver the evening off. Told him I wanted to have a cozy little visit with my baby bro.”

  “That’s a pretty nice truck,” Lara said. “Goes through snow really well, doesn’t it?” Lara swallowed. “As for that nifty rifle, don’t you think the neighbors will report a gunshot blast?”

  “This close to the woods?” Alice shrugged. “Doubtful, especially at this time of year. Let’s cut the crap, Lara. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way will be painless.
I just need to know where the letter is.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Because my name is probably in it.”

  Lara shook her head. “Trust me, it’s not. If it was, I’d have already taken it to the cops.”

  Alice hesitated, appearing to mull over Lara’s words. “How do I know that?” she said finally, with a glance toward the building Lara thought she’d recognized. Lara realized, now, where Alice had taken them—to one of the playing fields at the Whisker Jog High School. The shed against which Rose was slumped was probably the outbuilding where all the sports equipment was stored.

  “Did Rose tell you she named you in the letter?”

  “Rose said she didn’t name me, but why should I believe her? Maybe she’s lying, like when she said she didn’t want money. She only wanted me to confess, she said, to cleanse my soul, as she put it. What a crock.”

  Lara blinked, and then reality sank in. “And she told you she’d hidden the letter, but that she knew where it was. That even after all these years, she could find it if she had to. It scared you, didn’t it? To think she might just be telling the truth.”

  “I’m only going to ask you once more,” Alice said. “Where is it?”

  “My attorney has it,” Lara said. “There’s a copy on my tablet, of course.” And on my phone. If only I could reach it. “Did you go to school here, Alice?” Lara asked, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

  Alice’s nostrils flared. “Of course I went to school here. Where else would I go? My folks couldn’t afford a fancy private school like the snooty Thryces could. Even though I was just as entitled as Todd was.” She cocked the trigger on the rifle and pointed it at Lara. “Is my name in the letter?”

  Lara shook her head, unable to stop the tears. A groan penetrated her senses. She looked over at Rose and saw the woman trying to jiggle her hands free. “Help me,” Rose said softly. “Someone, please...”