by Sofie Ryan
Rose leaned sideways in her chair and looked at Socrates nestled on my lap. “Would you like to come stay with me for a while?” she asked.
He seemed to think about her words. His whiskers twitched and then he meowed softly.
Rose shifted her attention to Debra. “Socrates is in. All you have to do is say yes. We’ll help you get whatever you need to be set up for the show.”
I nodded. “Socrates can come hang out with Elvis and you can take some time to figure out what you want to do next.”
Debra shifted her attention to Tim. “I know you think I should go back to Portland with you, but this is where I want to be until we know for sure what happened to Christine. You understand, don’t you?”
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “If this is what you want to do, I’ll help any way I can.”
“Splendid,” Rose said. “We’ll pick you up on the way home.”
Her eyes flicked to me to confirm and I gave the tiniest of nods.
Tim was already shaking his head. “That’s not necessary. I can drop Debra off.”
Rose waved away his words. “You lost a friend, too, Tim. It’s no trouble.”
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Debra said.
Rose smiled. “I’m just glad I can do something to help. And it will be good to spend more time together. I’m only sorry it’s happening this way.”
We finished our tea and said good-bye to Debra and Tim.
“See you soon,” I whispered to Socrates.
Maud came out of the kitchen to say good-bye and once again promised she’d stop by the store the first chance she got.
Once we were outside in the SUV, I turned to Rose. “I saw what you did,” I said.
“Really?” she asked, all sweet little old lady innocence. “What did I do?”
“You invited Debra to stay with you so we can keep an eye on her.”
She shrugged one shoulder as she fastened her seat belt. “Maybe, or maybe I was just trying to help an old friend.” The gleam in her gray eyes told me she was just toying with me. “I didn’t ask if it was all right with you if Debra stays for a few days.”
“Of course it is,” I said. “It’s your apartment. And if someone is trying to get to her or Socrates, she’ll be a lot safer with us.” I paused for a moment.
“What is it?” Rose asked.
“Are you going to tell Debra you have two cases that she’s connected to?” I didn’t say that I couldn’t get rid of the niggling feeling that those two cases could actually be one.
“We have two cases and no, I’m not. Not yet. We don’t know anything yet.”
I stuck the key in the ignition and then looked at her again. “She’s going to be living in your apartment. Do you really think you can keep all that a secret?”
“I just won’t talk about the case when I’m home. Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t sure her plan was going to work. And it bothered me a little, not being straight with Debra. But I knew how hard it was to change Rose’s mind once she’d made it up. And none of us thought Debra was a suspect in either case.
She pulled out her cell phone. “I’m just going to check in with Alfred before we head back, just in case he needs anything.”
I waited while she called Mr. P. From her side of the conversation, it sounded like things were going well at the pet expo.
“How about a little detour on the way back to the shop?” I asked.
“Alfred did say he left a couple of passes for us,” Rose said.
I smiled. “He knows us well.”
The parking lot at the arena was easily two-thirds full.
“I didn’t think it would be this busy on a Wednesday afternoon,” I said as we got out of the car.
“It’s not that big of a surprise when you know about sixty-eight percent of American households have a pet,” Rose said. Maybe it was because she’d been a teacher or maybe it was one of the things that had made her a good teacher, but she loved statistics and obscure facts. She could win any trivia game because she knew such a wide range of things and because people tended to underestimate her, big-time.
“I’m guessing more dogs than cats. Man’s best friend and all that.”
We headed across the parking lot. “Actually no,” she said. “There are slightly more cats than dogs.”
“So maybe cat people really do rule,” I said with a grin.
Mr. P. was just inside the entrance talking to Memphis. They both smiled when they spotted us. Once again Memphis was dressed all in black. He was holding two lanyards in his hand. “These are your passes,” he said. “You can use them to get into the cat show and the pet expo.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the one he held out to me. I hung the cord, black with tiny white paw prints, around my neck. Rose did the same with hers.
“I’m going to go take another look at that camera,” Memphis said. He smiled at Rose and me. “Have fun. You know, I saw a heated cat bed with massage at one of the booths at the pet expo that I’m pretty sure Elvis would like. Just saying.” With a grin he turned and headed down the left concourse of the building.
I looked around. People were coming and going, many of them carrying brown paper shopping bags. “Any problems so far?” I asked.
Mr. P. shook his head. “A small issue with the placement of a camera, but Memphis has an idea for a way to fix that. How is Debra?”
“She wants to show Socrates,” I said.
“I told her we’d help her get what she needs,” Rose added. There was a question in her gray eyes.
“Of course we will,” Mr. P. said. “I’ll ask Avery to help.”
“I’ll help as well,” I said. “Just tell me what you need.”
He hiked his pants up a little higher even though they were already under his armpits. “I don’t know if you noticed, but Socrates had a litter box with a domed cover. I remember Debra saying it was the only kind of covered box he’d use. Apparently he doesn’t like small spaces.”
I was already nodding. The covered litter box had reminded me of a structure I’d once seen for drying seaweed. “I did notice that. Would you like me to find one?”
“Please,” he said. “That would be a big help.”
“And Debra and Socrates will be staying with me,” Rose said.
Mr. P. nodded. “Good.” I realized that he had known Rose was planning on inviting Debra to stay. As usual the two of them were several steps ahead of me.
“We’re going to take a peek in the pet expo before we head back,” Rose said.
“And Memphis is waiting for me,” Mr. P. said. “I must get my jacket.”
“Call if you need me to pick you up,” I said.
He nodded. “Thank you, my dear. I will.”
He headed in the same direction Memphis had taken. Rose and I walked over to the main-floor entrance and showed our badges to a young woman who checked each one carefully before she smiled and handed us a map of the space.
The first thing that struck me was just how many people there were inside the gym space. There were more than I’d expected to see based on the number of cars outside in the parking lot.
“Good heavens, this is a busy place.” Rose craned her neck to look around.
“What if we just follow the crowd and walk around for a few minutes?” I said.
“That’s an excellent idea,” she said.
The booths were arranged in two long loops, one inside the other with a wide aisle separating them. Vendors were offering everything from pet food to beds to boots for cats and dogs. There was a large selection of pet carriers, leashes and harnesses. One booth featured bike trailers to transport dogs and cats.
I nudged Rose. “Can you picture Elvis coming to work with me in that?”
She studied the mesh-and-nylon
wheeled carrier for a moment. “I’m not certain he’d like it,” she said, “but I think I’d fit inside.” There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
I got a mental image of Rose sitting inside the bike trailer wearing a helmet with her knees up around her ears. I grinned at her. “True,” I said. “You are the little package good things come in, but where would I put Mr. P?”
She pointed at a bright blue bicycle with a metal-and-canvas carrier attached to the handlebars. “Just think of how good that fresh air would be for all of us.” Her lips twitched.
“I’ll get my fresh air running,” I said, “thank you very much.”
We kept on walking. I was amazed at how much there was to see: pet celebrities; trainers; automated feeding systems; plans and examples of houses for dogs, cats, hamsters and other animals; and workshops on everything from grooming to making pet food. Tilley the fire dog and a group of firefighters from the area were talking about fire safety. Lily the library cat—a hand puppet, not a real cat—was there promoting reading to kids.
Rose waved at a woman ahead of us. The woman waved back. She was wearing a set of fuzzy black cat ears and a pair of retro cat’s-eye glasses with sparkling rhinestones at the corners. “That’s Junie,” Rose said. I must have looked confused—which I was—because she added, “Millicent’s mother.”
I nodded. Junie, aka Millicent’s mother, was the person who had told Rose about Suzanne and Paul Lilley wanting to start their own cat registry. I wondered whether Mr. P. had had any luck digging into their background. I’d never known one of his gut feelings to be wrong.
Rose grabbed my arm and threaded her way through the crowd, pretty much pulling me along with her as she made her way over to Junie, almost like I was a wagon she was pulling behind her.
“Junie, this is my friend Sarah,” Rose said when we finally reached the woman. Junie was short and round with bright blue eyes that held a mischievous twinkle.
She smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. You own Elvis, don’t you? He’s a beautiful boy.”
“Thank you,” I said, “and the jury’s still out on who owns whom.”
The smile got wider. “Tell me about it,” she said. She turned to Rose. “Did you try the crackers yet?”
Rose shook her head. “I need Alfred to bring me a fan first.”
Junie gave a knowing nod.
“Am I missing something?” I asked. “You’re talking about the sardine crackers, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Rose said. “They’re a little . . . aromatic.”
“She means they stink,” Junie said flatly. “When you make them you need to open all the windows and run a fan. Trust me on that. Cats love ’em, though.”
Junie gave Rose a couple more cracker-making tips and then we parted company. I realized I still didn’t know what species Millicent was. As we walked around I saw several people using their phones to record what was going on. Ahead of us one man was walking backward, recording video and somehow managing not to run into anyone. He looked familiar; average height and build, cropped gray hair and beard. I realized the man was one of the producers who had been involved in filming the pilot for a treasure-hunt reality show in North Harbor during the summer. Our street had been clogged from early in the morning until late at night and my patience had quickly become frazzled.
I’d met the producer because one morning Rose and I had arrived to find half of our parking lot filled with the crew’s vehicles and the entrance blocked—without permission. Rose had dealt with the immediate problem of the truck in the driveway as only a former middle school teacher could and I’d gone in search of someone in charge. Half an hour later the crew’s vehicles were still in our parking area, but I had a check in my hand large enough to take the edge off my annoyance. I wondered what the man was doing back in town.
We made it back to the main entrance. “We should get back to the shop,” Rose said.
I nodded my agreement. There was more to see, but it would have to wait for another time.
As we walked across the parking lot I saw Rose look over to the adjoining building where the cat show would be held.
Cleveland was standing by the main doors having a heated discussion with a woman. Actually only her part of the discussion seemed heated; Cleveland looked like his usual, laid-back self.
I looked at Rose and inclined my head in the direction of Cleveland and the woman. She nodded and we changed course. As we approached I could see that the woman was holding a cat in her arms. It was a big cat; long, not chubby, with markings like a leopard or a jaguar. I knew from some of the prowling around online that I’d done that it was a Bengal.
The woman, who I took to be the cat’s owner, was in her earlier forties with dark blonde curls just brushing her shoulders and pale-framed glasses. She wore a black hooded raincoat and black rain boots with cartoon cats all over them and she was gesturing with a fair amount of agitation.
Cleveland was listening patiently to her, his blue eyes fixed on her face, hands clasped in front of him.
“I just need to walk around the space where the show is going to be held before things are set up so that Basil can adjust to the room,” the woman was saying. I assumed that Basil was the cat. “Basil is a very sensitive soul,” she continued with complete seriousness. Basil, meanwhile, was staring at a nearby BMW.
Cleveland looked at me and one eyebrow went up. I wondered how long he and the woman had been standing there having the conversation.
“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Rose said to the woman, “but there will be lots of time at setup tomorrow for Basil to adjust to his new surroundings.”
The cat turned his head. It seemed Rose was more interesting than a BMW.
She held out a hand to him. “He’s beautiful.”
He sniffed curiously and reached a paw toward Rose. The woman immediately took two steps back and glared at her. “Please don’t touch him,” she said. “I have no idea where you’ve been.”
“Merow!” the cat said. He didn’t seem to care where Rose had been.
The woman focused her attention on Cleveland again. “Well?” she said.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Watson,” he said. “I can only let people on the floor who have permission from Mr. or Mrs. Hartman and I’m sorry, you’re not on my list. However, if you’d like to call either one of them I’d be happy to let you use my phone.”
Her jaw clenched and her shoulders tightened. “You’re just wasting my time,” she said, her voice laced with anger. “If Basil doesn’t do well in the show it will be your fault. And I promise you, I will make you pay!”
The woman turned and stalked away without another word, the cat watching us over her shoulder.
Cleveland shook his head. “That was fun,” he said. He really was unflappable. I’d once seen him pry the top off a damaged tea chest to see what was inside and come face-to-face with a very pissed-off raccoon. He’d reacted about the same way that time as he had now. And come to think of it, the raccoon had been in about the same mood as the woman.
“You handled things very well,” Rose said.
“Alfred warned me that she’d try to get into the building. She tried to get into the Searsport show early, too.”
“Do you think she could be behind the vandalism at the other shows?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Anything’s possible, I guess. But she doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who would hurt an animal. She seems, I don’t know . . . kind of eccentric.”
I struggled not to smile. People often said the same thing about Cleveland.
He gestured at the building behind us. “Alfred and Memphis are inside taking a last look at the security cameras if you want to go in and talk to him.”
Rose smiled. “No, that’s fine. We’ll see him back at the office.”
* * *
* * *
“Do you know wh
o that woman was?” I asked Rose as we walked back to the car.
“Her name is Kimber Watson,” she said. “And the cat, as you probably guessed, is Basil.”
“He’s a Bengal?”
She nodded. “And he’s been Socrates’s main competition for the last several years.”
I unlocked the SUV’s doors and walked around to the driver’s side. “Kimber Watson is on your list of suspects, isn’t she?” I asked as I slid behind the wheel.
“Let’s just say she’s a maybe.” Rose fastened her seat belt and folded her hands in her lap.
I didn’t like the term ‘crazy cat lady,’ but Kimber Watson did seem like a bit of a fanatic when it came to her cat. On the other hand, I let Elvis sit on a stool at the counter for breakfast so who was I to judge?
“What did Mr. P. find out about her?” I asked.
“She’s married with no children,” Rose said. “No one has ever seen her husband so there’s a rumor that he doesn’t actually exist.”
“Do you think it’s true?”
“I think it’s just silly gossip. Kimber is a quiet, solitary person. She’s very attached to Basil. She’s not very outgoing and she hasn’t been very welcoming to new people for the most part.”
I was about to say something and then I stopped myself. I’d forgotten that Rose missed very little.
“You were going to say something,” she said. “What was it?”
I chewed my lip for a moment. “You said Kimber was on your suspect list as a maybe.”
I saw her nod out of the corner of my eye.
“Why just a maybe? She seems a little obsessive when it comes to her cat and the shows. And you just said she hasn’t been very welcoming to new people. Those sound to me like two reasons she may be behind what’s going on.”
Rose took a moment before she answered. “At first glance, I agree with you,” she said.
“I sense a ‘but’ coming.” I glanced over at her and she smiled.
“Yes, there is a ‘but’ coming. More than one. First of all, I agree with what Cleveland said. You saw her when she thought I was going to touch Basil. Kimber was very protective. I don’t think she’d do anything that might hurt another animal.”
