Claws for Celebration

by Linda Reilly

  “What poor little girl?”

  Aunt Fran nodded toward the kitchen table. Nutmeg crouched under one of the chairs, her eyes wide with worry. When Lara bent down, the cat gazed up at her as if to say, I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean to do that. I only wanted a snack.

  “Come here, sweetie, it’s okay. I want to be sure you’re not hurt.”

  At Lara’s soothing tone, the tortie crept toward her. Lara rubbed her head to reassure her, then checked her paws for cuts. “She’s okay, she’s not...hurt.” Her last word fell away as she dropped down hard onto the floor, her heart breaking in two. Lara pulled Nutmeg into her arms and held her close.

  Chapter 33

  Andy Casteel sat behind his desk, absently twirling a pencil. His expression grim, his face a sickly shade of gray, he waved a hand at the three chairs lined up on the opposite side. “Please, both of you, have a seat.”

  Lara lowered herself onto an end chair. The chief took a seat at the other end, leaving an empty chair between them. Lara’s stomach felt weighted with sadness. She’d barely slept all night.

  “Thank you for allowing us to meet here, Andy,” Chief Whitley said quietly. “This is very irregular, I know, but the state police and I are honoring Lara’s request. They have a police escort waiting outside.”

  Casteel nodded, making eye contact with neither of them. “No problem, Chief. It was the least I could do.” He reached over and pressed a button on his phone. “Abby, you can send him in now.”

  Lara patted her pocket to be sure she’d tucked some tissues in there. A minute later, Jason Blakely stepped through the open door. His gaze bounced from one to the other, and his eyes dimmed with confusion. “You wanted to see me, Mr. C?”

  “Yes, Jason, and please close the door. You can have a seat next to Chief Whitley.”

  Jason closed the door softly and shuffled over to the chair. He gave Lara an odd look but said nothing.

  Casteel cleared his throat. “Chief?”

  Whitley nodded. “Jason, we’ve done some checking into your file here at the high school, and—”

  “My file?” Jason said, looking baffled. “What for? I’ve never even been late for work.”

  “Not your employee file, your student file,” the chief clarified.

  “But I only went to school here two years.”

  “Yes, we understand that, but it’s those two years that concerned us. I regret that we didn’t look into it sooner, but after you were interviewed by the state police we saw no reason to consider you a person of interest.”

  “A person of—” Jason swallowed, and his face reddened. “What’s this about?”

  “Jason,” the chief continued, “we believe you tainted the cookies that caused Miss Plouffe’s death. You knew about her allergy. Everyone in the school knew.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, so what? That means there’s, like, at least a couple hundred suspects, right? Everybody I know hated her.”

  Lara spoke up. “Jason, when you said the stray cat you were feeding was fussy, I didn’t think much of it at the time. It wasn’t until I got her to the house, to the shelter, that I realized what you meant. She has a strong preference for shellfish, any kind of shellfish. Yesterday, she knocked over a bowl of crabmeat that my aunt had left on the counter.”

  “Again,” he said peevishly. “So what?”

  “So I wondered, where did you get the shellfish you gave Nutmeg? I didn’t think the school cafeteria served it. Too expensive, for starters, plus there’s the whole allergy thing.”

  “Last evening,” the chief said, “Mrs. Stevens confirmed for us that the school cafeteria never uses any form of shellfish in the students’ meals.”

  Jason went silent, his ears flushing red. “Okay, big whoop—you got me. I helped myself to a package of frozen lobster at the Shop-Along. I thought the smell would attract the cat more than the stuff we had in the school fridge. The store wasn’t going to miss it.”

  “Jason,” Lara said, “when I asked you how you knew Miss Plouffe carried injectable allergy medicine, you told me that the last year she worked at the school you saw one sticking out of the gaudy flowered purse she always carried.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  The principal spoke up. “Gladys Plouffe hadn’t carried a purse like that for years, Jason. Not since one of the students put a garter snake in it. She’d switched to a fanny pack. The sad part is, she wasn’t even wearing it that day. The police found it later in her car. I can only assume she locked it there for safekeeping. Gladys trusted no one.”

  Jason’s mouth formed a grim line, and his shoulders sagged. “I only said that to make myself look good. It was stupid of me. When the school put me in charge of setting up the displays for the cookie contest, I remembered I’d hidden that lobster for the stray cat in the back of the fridge in the kitchen.” He shook his head and his eyes misted. Lara pulled a tissue from her pocket and gave it to him.

  “Gladys Plouffe always hated me,” Jason said bitterly. “She knew I wanted to work in the food business after I graduated, so she sabotaged me every way she could. If I made a mistake in her class, she never let me forget it. She always used me as an example of what not to do. Even her pet students—the nasty girls, I called them—used to join in humiliating me. And she just let them do it.”

  “You were the student who switched schools because of her, weren’t you?” Lara asked him.

  Jason nodded. “I didn’t want to switch. I loved this school because it’s small. I hated the one I went to for my last two years of high school. Plus, it ticked off my folks royally because they had to drive me there. My dad wrecked his car one morning driving me to school in a rainstorm. He’s never let me forget it.” He swabbed a tissue over his cheeks.

  “I blame myself for much of this, Jason,” Casteel said soberly. “Over the years, I disciplined Gladys many times, for many reasons. And I filed all the appropriate reports required by the school district, and by state law. But the parents, they almost always supported her—that was part of the problem.” He leaned forward and folded his hands on his ink blotter, his face the picture of misery. “The other part? I was biased. Long ago, Gladys Plouffe saved my younger brother’s life. I foolishly allowed that to color my actions, or rather, my inaction. I apologize to you for all the harm it caused you. You should never have been so unhappy here that you felt forced to change schools.”

  A heavy silence fell over the room.

  Jason let out a sob, his fingers covering his eyes. “I wanted to make her sick, but I didn’t want to kill her. At the end I tried to revive her, but it was too late.” He looked at Lara, his face blotchy and his eyes red. He looked like a cross between an old man and a child. “You know what’s really funny? I’ve been thinking about what I’d do if I had to go to jail. Do you think they’ll let me train animals, like those prisons on TV do? Maybe I could work with feral cats.”

  Lara swiped at her own tears. “If they do, I’ll help out any way I can.”

  Casteel pushed his chair back and rose. “I’m going to help you as well, Jason. Right now, please don’t say anything further. You need a good criminal attorney. Gideon Halley gave me a recommendation. With your consent, I’m going to call her for you.”

  Jason nodded, and the chief stood. “You and I will walk out together. I see no need for a state police escort. One of them will read you your rights when we get to the car.”

  Jason turned to Lara. “Please say goodbye to Rose for me, okay? I’m going to miss her.”

  “I will,” Lara said, crying openly now.

  She watched him leave with the chief, her heart breaking for him.

  Casteel looked shaky, but he forced a smile. “I’ve said it before, Lara, but it bears repeating. You’re a very smart woman. You’re also a very caring one, and for that I’m most grateful.”

  Her throat too tight to respond, she
nodded. The idea of Jason locked in a prison cell made her stomach clench. She thought back to the tender way he’d handled Nutmeg, the way he’d worried about the little stray being cold and hungry.

  How sad that he’d never gotten over Miss Plouffe’s horrible treatment of him. Over the years, it had eaten away at his psyche. When he saw her again at the cookie competition, the bad memories must have flooded back.

  Lara blotted her eyes one last time, then shoved her tissue into her coat pocket. “Thank you, Andy. Shall we pay Rose a visit now? I’m sure she’s wondering what happened to Jason.”

  Chapter 34

  A pan sat on the stove, simmering with a blend of cloves, cinnamon, and orange peel. The delectable aroma wafted into the large parlor.

  Above the mantel hung a pine wreath adorned with a massive red bow. Sitting on her heels in front of a small stack of gifts, Lara rubbed her hands together. She felt as if she were six again, eager to tear the wrapping off the packages to see what Santa had delivered.

  Gideon sat cross-legged beside her, his brown eyes beaming. He tugged lightly on her curly ponytail, which was secured with a red velour scrunchie. On her ears Lara wore the whimsical blue tree bulbs she’d bought at Mary Newman’s gift shop.

  “So, no Christmas tree this year, eh?” Gideon said, as if Lara and her aunt had committed the ultimate sin.

  “Nope. We’ll try to think of something creative next year, but this year time ran short. We had to think of the cats. Especially Valenteena,” Lara said with a giggle, “who could get herself into trouble in a plain white box. And speak of the devil...”

  Valenteena bounded into the large parlor and plunked herself onto Lara’s legs. Lara laughed. “You smell like a fish,” she said, rubbing the little cat’s head. “You’re dying to help me open gifts, aren’t you? Well, you’re too late. We opened most of them already.”

  Aunt Fran had given Lara a dark green sweater with a Ragdoll cat emblazoned on the front. She’d commissioned a local woman to knit it for her, and the cat had been painstakingly hand-embroidered.

  “Lara, you have to open that one from Rodney,” Aunt Fran called from the sofa. “I’m bursting with curiosity.”

  “Okay, okay,” Lara said, sliding the heavy gift out of the stack. She held it to her ear and shook it, then tore off the wrapping to reveal a festive-looking box. “Drum roll, please...” She pulled off the cover and grinned. “It’s a coffee-table book of cats,” she said, and flipped through the glossy pages. “Look, it has pictures of all the breeds with descriptions of each one!”

  “Wow, what a great gift,” Gideon said. “I’m impressed. Especially since you’ve never even met the man. That reminds me, have you heard from your mom?”

  “She texted me about a week ago. She was kind of vague about their plans, but as far as I know, they’re still in New Hampshire.”

  Aunt Fran lifted Dolce from her lap and set him gently on the sofa. She went over to Lara and reached down for the book. “May I see it?”

  Lara gave it to her, and her aunt’s green eyes lit up. “This is a very thoughtful present, Lara, and appropriate. I only hope—I mean, oh, never mind.”

  “You only hope what?” Lara said.

  “Is that the timer on the stove going off?” Aunt Fran chirped, cocking her ear toward the kitchen. “You kids go ahead and open the rest. I’ll be back later!”

  “Us kids?” Gideon chuckled. “I think she wants us to be alone when we open our own gifts.”

  Lara’s heart raced in her chest like a monster truck. Did Aunt Fran know something she didn’t?

  Gideon reached behind the pile and pulled out a small square box. Wrapped in gold and tied with a huge blue bow, it looked as if it came from a jeweler. “This is for you,” he said quietly.

  “Was that back there all this time? I didn’t even see it!”

  “Open it,” he said. “Please.”

  Lara tugged the end of the bow, and the ribbon fell away. She peeled off the gold paper, then lifted the top of the box. Relief swept through her like an ocean breeze. It wasn’t an engagement ring.

  “Oh...Gideon, this is unbelievable.”

  Inside the box was a cat-shaped pendant, about an inch high, that hung on a silver chain. The pendant, made from tiny blue gems, sparkled when she held it to the window.

  “They’re sapphires,” Gideon said, “and the chain is white gold.”

  “Where...how...I mean...where did you ever find this?”

  “Actually,” he confessed, “I didn’t find it. It had to be custom-made. What’s strange is that I ordered it two months ago, before I even knew about Blue.”

  Strange or prophetic? Lara mused.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “It’s absolutely gorgeous,” she said in a hoarse voice, “and I love it. Put it on me before Aunt Fran gets back.”

  Gideon fastened the necklace behind her, then turned to see it on her. “It looks totally fantastic on you. So beautiful with your hair.”

  Lara felt herself tearing up. Gideon had known she wasn’t ready for the other kind of jewelry—the kind that glittered on her left hand. Not yet, anyway. Without fully understanding why, he’d chosen the perfect gift.

  She went over to where her gift to him rested against the wall. It was large and hadn’t been easy to wrap. She’d lucked out when she found a festive bag big enough to hold it.

  “Okay, open mine now. And handle with care, please.”

  “Wow. It’s big.” He removed the gift, wrapped in tissue, from the depths of the bag. When he pulled away the tissue, Gideon’s eyes widened. His face froze, and he went dead silent.

  Oh, no. Does he hate it?

  “Lara, this is, I mean, I never expected...”

  “Gideon, you’re killing me here. Do you like it?”

  Tears slid down his cheeks. He stared at the watercolor she’d painted from the photo—the one of young Gideon with his hand on his dad’s shoulder, their expressions intense as they examined a legal document. “Oh...Lara. This is beyond fantastic. I’m almost speechless. Did you paint this from memory?”

  “Um, not exactly. I took a picture of it with my phone that day I asked you for a bottle of water.”

  Lara had labored long hours to finish the painting, and then she still had to get it framed. Her favorite art shop had done a superb job, plus they’d rushed it for her. The mat was antique white, and the frame a dark cherry wood.

  “It’s the most beautiful gift I’ve ever gotten,” he said. “Will you help me choose a spot for it?”

  She leaned over and kissed him, just as Purrcival wedged himself between them. “You know I will.”

  Gideon smiled and rubbed the cat’s head. “You like it too, don’t you, Purrcy?”

  Purrcy meowed his approval, then rested his furry head on Gideon’s ankle.

  As if a magic wand had been waved over the room, Aunt Fran appeared beside them. They showed her their gifts, and she hugged them both. “I feel it in my bones. This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”

  The doorbell rang. Lara frowned. “It’s too early for Daisy and crew. Who could that be?”

  “There’s only one way to find out,” Aunt Fran said.

  Lara hopped up off the floor and opened the front door. Her mom stood on the doorstep next to a pudgy man with thinning hair and a handlebar mustache.

  “M-Mom,” she stammered. “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming?”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake, Lara, will you move so we can come in? It’s not exactly summer out here.” She smiled brightly at her daughter. “And I did tell you we were coming. I told Fran, anyway. She wanted us to surprise you.”

  The man squeezed Brenda’s shoulders from behind. “Now, hon, give her a chance. Hi, you must be Lara,” he said, sticking out a hand. “I’m Rod.”

  Lara opened the door wide and ushered th
em inside. He pumped her hand as if he were milking a cow. “Yes, I am. Please come in.”

  Brenda’s face seemed somehow softer today. Less makeup, more animation. Lara thought it was a look that suited her.

  Lara took their coats, and introductions were made all around. Brenda’s eyes lit up like fireflies when she saw Gideon. “Oh my, I am simply delighted to see you again, Gideon. Do you remember me?”

  Gideon smiled and kissed Brenda’s cheek. “I sure do. Great to see you, too.”

  “Are you staying for dinner?” Lara asked.

  Brenda stared at the striped orange cat sniffing her boot. “He’s back,” she said with a wry twist of her lips. “No, we’re catching a three o’clock flight out of Manchester back to Vegas, so we can only stay a half hour or so. Enough for one drink, then we have to skedaddle. Although Rod can only have a tiny sip, since he’s driving.”

  “One swallow and I’m done,” he said, winking at Lara.

  For the next half hour, they sampled Aunt Fran’s creamy eggnog and munched on Christmas cookies. Cats wandered in and out of the room. Munster couldn’t resist whatever he’d detected on the toe of Brenda’s boot, so he curled up at her feet and rested his head on it. Rod spoke briefly of his country music career, but his subdued tone gave Lara the impression things hadn’t gone well with the Greenhorn Geezers. Lastly, Lara remembered to thank Rod for the cat book.

  “I had a feeling that would be right up your alley,” he said, then chuckled. “Looking around here, I can see I was right.”

  “How about my special gift?” Brenda said with a sly smile and a glance at Lara’s left hand.

  “Oh, um, yes. That was lovely, Mom. Thank you.” She felt a flush creep into her cheeks.

  “Well, the time has flown, honeybun,” Rod said, rising off the sofa. “Gotta say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many cats in one place. You’ve done a fine job here, ladies.”