Hooked on a Feline

by Sofie Kelly

  He smiled. “Kathleen, you ate it all,” he said.

  I tipped up the container to take a look. It was empty. How had that happened?

  “Was Mary’s talk like the previous ones?” Marcus asked. “Did you offer tea and coffee again?”

  “Yes, we did,” I said. “Oh, and there were maple cookies from Eric’s.”

  “Did you see Leitha eat a cookie or drink a cup of tea or coffee?”

  “You don’t think she was poisoned, do you?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he said. “Did you see her eat or drink anything?”

  I tried to picture the aftermath of Mary’s talk. People had been milling around, getting tea or coffee, talking. More than one person had commented on the cookies.

  “Mary offered a cookie to Leitha,” I said.

  His blue eyes narrowed. “Offered or gave?”

  “Mary would not poison Leitha or anyone else. You know Mary. You have to know that.”

  “I didn’t say she did.” He waited.

  “Offered,” I said firmly. “I remember that she was holding the tray.” I set my empty yogurt cup on the bench. “You can’t possibly think that Mary killed Leitha—that Mary planned to kill Leitha—because it’s not like she would have had potassium chloride in the pocket of her sweater.”

  Marcus held up one hand. “I don’t believe Mary killed Leitha. I don’t believe she would kill anyone—give them a stern talking-to, yes, or in a worst-case scenario maybe drop-kick them across the room, but I don’t see her resorting to murder.”

  I tapped my spoon against my bottom lip. “When would Leitha have to have ingested the potassium chloride for it to have caused her heart attack?”

  “The doctor thinks it would have to have been in her system about an hour before the heart attack that caused her to go off the road.”

  “So at the library,” I said.

  “It’s possible that Leitha had pills on her and took too many by mistake, but I can’t find any reference to any kind of medication in any police reports and she hadn’t been prescribed potassium chloride by her doctor.”

  “I didn’t see her take anything.”

  “But you weren’t watching her all the time.”

  I shook my head. “No. There was a lot going on.” I looked out over the water for a moment. “Marcus, do you think it’s possible that Leitha committed suicide?” I asked.

  Marcus stretched one arm along the top of the bench. “I admit that did occur to me, but it doesn’t make sense. She was in good physical health, especially for her age and her mind was sharp. I checked with her doctor and the doctor running the study—she had no cognitive issues at all. No one who knew Leitha said anything about her seeming depressed. She had plans made several months ahead. Nothing suggests suicide.”

  “So what happens now?” I asked.

  “The medical examiner is doing more tests and consulting with Dr. Faraday, the doctor in charge of the study.”

  The breeze lifted my hair and I tucked a stray strand back behind my ear. “What happens if they decide that Leitha was murdered? And how does that all connect to Mike’s death? Or does it?”

  Marcus shrugged. “That’s the part I still don’t know.”

  chapter 10

  I reached over and laid my hand on Marcus’s arm. His skin was warm under my fingers “So what do you do until you get some answers?” I asked.

  “I keep working on the Bishop case. Do you remember? Was Mike at the library for Mary’s talk?”

  “He was. It was a Friday afternoon and his office was closed, so Mike was there.”

  Marcus linked his fingers with mine. “Do you know if he had started digging into his ancestry at that point?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. He told me that Leitha’s death was actually what inspired him to learn more abut the family, but he seemed very interested in what Mary had to say. I know he talked to her a couple of times about his great-grandfather when he was working on the family tree.”

  “Do you remember if Mike came to any of the other lectures?” Marcus asked.

  “He was at the second one Harrison gave, and I did see them talking afterward, but they knew each other well, so it didn’t mean they were talking about Mike’s family tree. Why are you asking? Do you think something Mike uncovered in his family’s past has something to do with his death?”

  He shrugged. “Right now I’m not ruling anything out. Do you remember when he first came into the library to start researching his family history?”

  I straightened the neck of my T-shirt, running my fingers over the stitching around the neck, as I searched my memory for the first time Mike had asked for my help. “I think it was roughly about a month after Leitha’s death. He showed up one Friday morning right after we opened.

  “Mike said he’d been poking around online on one of those ancestry sites, but he wasn’t finding a lot of what he was looking for, and he wanted to know what to do next.

  “I made some suggestions—there were some old documents that had been digitized but weren’t accessible through the library’s website yet and we had some other papers he could look at if he took the proper care, plus old microfilm he could go through. Mike asked if there was a way to borrow certain other documents.”

  “Do you remember which documents?” Marcus asked.

  “A diary, some passenger manifests and some photos. Pretty much all the things he asked about were too fragile to be in circulation, so I told him if he could let me know specifically what he wanted, I should be able to get copies or images of most things for him. And I know he went to Minneapolis to do some research at least once.”

  Marcus looked thoughtful and I knew he was filing away everything I said, already looking for connections between what he knew and what he was learning.

  “Do you remember me telling you about an old map they used on the Great Northern Baking Showdown?” I asked.

  Eugenie had been very good about working local references into the show whenever she had the chance. When she and Russell had filmed a segment at Wild Rose Bluff, they had used a map from the library in their intro.

  Marcus frowned. “It was a map of the area around Wild Rose Bluff?”

  I nodded, pushing my hair back off my face again. “Mike looked at that and he was very interested when I told him about an even earlier map showing land claims in the area that had just recently been donated to the library in Red Wing. The librarian there made a copy of it for me.”

  “Can you think of anything else?”

  I shook my head.

  “Okay, let’s go back to Mary’s presentation for a minute. Did Mike sit with Leitha?”

  I thought for a moment, trying to picture the meeting room. “Yes,” I said. “Leitha was on the end of a row, Mike was beside her and Jonas Quinn was next to him.” I motioned with one hand, slotting people in their seats in my mind. “Harrison was in the row in front of them. And Keith King. Keith has been tracing his family tree ever since Ella got him one of those DNA test kits. And I remember seeing Keith and Mike talking before Mary got started.”

  Marcus nodded and I knew he was making a mental note to talk to Keith. “Were there people there that you didn’t know?” he asked.

  “Of course. There always are. There were several tourists and those kinds of presentations always bring out the history buffs—at least based on the other ones we’ve done. I know there were a few people who came from Minneapolis. During Everett’s talk I remember there were several real estate developers in the audience.”

  “Developers?” Marcus frowned. “Why?”

  “Everett told me they showed up for one of two reasons—he was talking about old buildings in Mayville Heights and Red Wing, and developers want to know some of the history of a property they want to restore to exploit those details for financing. Or they want to know a property�
��s past to be sure they won’t face too much opposition because they want to tear it down. Do you remember that old bank building in Red Wing that was turned into condos? The plans had to be adapted because of the historical significance of the property.”

  Marcus rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “How did Leitha act while she was at the library that day?”

  “Like I said before, I wasn’t watching the woman all the time.”

  “Anything you saw might be helpful.”

  I sighed. “You know how she could be. She had a rather superior attitude.”

  He nodded.

  “Every time I looked in Leitha’s direction while Mary was speaking, she had a look of disdain on her face. Now, if Mary noticed and if it bothered her at all, you couldn’t tell. And to be fair, Leitha had acted the same way during Everett’s talk, so I don’t think it was personal.”

  “Is there anything else you can remember?”

  My fingers were still linked with his. I traced my thumb along the side of his hand. “I’m not really sure what you’re looking for.”

  He gave me a wry smile. “That makes two of us. You did say that Leitha had one of Eric’s cookies. I know she drank a cup of tea at some point. According to her stomach contents, she’d had tea with milk and sugar. Was that at the library?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Did she get the tea herself or did someone else get it for her?”

  I knew what he was getting at. If Leitha’s death hadn’t been an accident, if she had died because of an overdose of potassium chloride—and I was having trouble with the idea—then maybe she had ingested it at the library.

  “Someone else got it— Well, sort of.”

  “Wait a second. What do you mean, someone else got it ‘sort of’?”

  I exhaled loudly, feeling frustrated. “This is secondhand, so you should really talk to Rebecca. She told me this story the day after Leitha died.” I remembered Rebecca saying she didn’t like speaking ill of the dead.

  “And I will,” Marcus said. “Please, just tell me what you know for now.”

  I picked up the spoon from my frozen yogurt container and turned it over in my fingers. “As far as I know, this happened right before the argument between Leitha and Mary. Leitha did have a cup of tea, but it was actually Jonas’s cup that she had taken from his hand, which according to Rebecca was her entitled way of behaving.”

  “Do you know if he poured the tea himself?” Marcus asked.

  I nodded. “Rebecca said that he did and she remembers him drinking from it while the two of them were talking. I don’t see how there could have been anything in the tea. Who could have guessed Leitha would take his cup? And anyway, Jonas is fine.”

  “I know,” he said. “I might be completely off base about all of this but I need to be certain.”

  It was starting to get dark. “Are you ready to go?” Marcus asked, gathering up both of our empty yogurt containers. We started walking back to his SUV.

  “When do you expect the medical examiner will have something?” I said.

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe a week.”

  Actually it took fewer than three days to get some answers. On Friday, after some investigation by the police and more tests by the medical examiner, the cause of Leitha Finnamore Anderson’s death was changed from accident to homicide.

  chapter 11

  I was sitting at the kitchen table with Owen on my lap, eating a toasted bagel topped with tomato slices when Marcus called with the news. “You were right,” I said.

  “It might have been better if I’d been wrong.” I heard the squeak of his desk chair. “Now I have two murder cases and no idea if they’re connected or not.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” I said. Owen bobbed his head seemingly in agreement. “Owen and I have faith in you.”

  He laughed. “Well, then, how can I go wrong?”

  * * *

  Midmorning I got a call from Mike Bishop’s office. It was the office manager, Caroline. I’d been expecting to hear from her ever since I’d talked to Maggie.

  “Hi, Kathleen,” she said. “I see from our records that you were coming back for a recheck on the tooth where we did the root canal. I don’t mean to push you but I was wondering what you want to do.”

  “I don’t really know,” I said, dropping onto the footstool. “What are my options?”

  “Well, there are several endodontists in Minneapolis. We could forward your records to one of them and I’m sure they would check the tooth for you. Is it giving you any trouble?”

  Owen came down the stairs and over to me, looking quizzically at the phone.

  “It’s not. I don’t have any pain at all now.”

  “Then you’d probably be okay not having it checked. It was just something Dr. B. liked to do.”

  “He was very conscientious,” I said.

  “Yes, he was.” Caroline cleared her throat. “So I could just send your records over to your regular dentist. I can tell you that we know of an endodontist who is planning on setting up a practice here in Mayville Heights, probably this winter. If you did have any problems down the road and you didn’t want to drive to Minneapolis, that would be an option.”

  Owen jumped onto my lap and pushed his face close to the receiver. I shifted him sideways and he gave me a sour look.

  “I’m not sure what to do,” I said. “That tooth gave me so much trouble before the root canal—”

  “You’re afraid something’s going to go wrong again.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I know how silly that sounds.”

  “It’s not silly at all,” Caroline said. “I have a suggestion. Why don’t you stop by the office sometime? Lorraine is here. You could ask her any questions you have. That might help you make up your mind.” Lorraine was one of the dental assistants in the practice. She was kind and very reassuring.

  “I could stop in on my way to the library just before lunch.”

  “We’ll see you then,” she said.

  Owen looked from the phone to me as I hung up.

  “I’m going to stop at Mike’s office,” I said. “Teeth stuff.”

  He made a face. Owen hated having his teeth cleaned.

  “Maybe I’ll learn something useful.”

  The cat gave a noncommittal murp and followed me out to the kitchen.

  “What do you think?” I asked. “Is Marcus right? Is there some kind of connection between Mike’s and Leitha’s deaths or is it just one weird coincidence?”

  He seemed to think about my words for a minute; then he blinked his golden eyes at me. Okay, so he wasn’t sure, either.

  I poured a cup of coffee, and when I turned around again, Owen was sitting on my chair, eyeing the laptop that was on the table. Roma had sent the photos from the concert and I wanted to take a look at them. Apparently, Owen did as well.

  I set my coffee on the table, well away from the computer, scooped up the cat and sat down. He looked over my shoulder at the toaster and then looked at me.

  “We don’t need toast and peanut butter,” I said.

  The photos were terrific. There were two of Marcus and me from the side. We were holding hands while I leaned against his arm. There were three of Roma and me singing along with the band, arms across each other’s shoulders. In one of the shots Eddie had taken of Mary and Marcus dancing, he’d caught her in midtwirl.

  “I think that’s my favorite,” I said, pointing at the screen.

  Owen’s response was to put a paw on the keyboard and suddenly we were looking at an image of Maggie. “Merow!” he said. It was clear which photo was his favorite.

  Roma had included several shots of the band. I smiled as I scrolled through the pictures and felt my throat tighten over an image of Mike and Harry grinning at each other as they played.

  It wasn’t fa
ir. Mike had been one of the good guys. When I got to the library, he should be there flirting with the ladies in the Seniors’ Book Club and laughing about some family scandal he’d uncovered with Abigail.

  “We have to find the person who did this,” I said to Owen.

  He nuzzled my chin. He was in.

  * * *

  I decided I’d eat once I got to the library, so I packed my lunch and drove down to Mike Bishop’s office. Caroline was at the reception desk.

  “Hi, Kathleen,” she said. “I’ll let Lorraine know you’re here.”

  I took a seat in the waiting room. Lorraine appeared a couple of minutes later. She smiled when she caught sight of me. She was short and curvy and seemed to smile all the time. She had gorgeous red curls that she generally wore in a high ponytail. Before today I didn’t think I’d ever seen her in the office with her hair down.

  “How are you?” I asked.

  Her mouth twisted to one side. “Still a bit in shock like everyone else.” She looked around. “It seems so quiet in here. I’m still having trouble with the idea that the concert was the last time I’m ever going to see Mike.”

  She swallowed and I reached over and put a hand on her arm for a moment.

  “The concert was incredible,” I said.

  Lorraine’s smile returned. “It’s funny. That Thursday Mike was just about bouncing all around the office and I chalked it up to him being a bit wired about Johnny Rock performing again. I had no idea we were going to see the band. I can’t believe he managed to keep it all secret, because trust me, he was lousy at keeping secrets.”

  “But we really should have guessed,” Caroline said.

  Lorraine and I both turned to look at her.

  “What makes you say that?” I asked.

  Caroline gestured at the computer. “Mike was insistent that he had to leave on time on both Wednesday and Thursday. I had to schedule anything that had the possibility of running late for earlier in the day. More than once he missed lunch to get caught up. I can’t believe that it never entered my mind that the band was getting back together.”