One Foot in the Grave: Carly Moore #3

by Denise Grover Swank

  “They’re not quite ready to leave their mother yet,” the receptionist said, “but they only need another week,” she said as she squatted next to the cage. “Do you see one that catches your eye?”

  I peered into the kennel, overwhelmed. “Oh, my. How does someone choose? They’re all adorable.”

  She laughed. “We have a play area out back. How about I take you out there and let you play with all of them and see if any of them fit.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m Sasha, by the way,” she said as she opened the kennel and scooped out a couple of kittens and handed them to me.

  “Carly.” I held them with both hands, then watched in surprise as she gathered four more on her own.

  “Can you open the door?” she asked.

  I shuffled the kittens around and turned the knob. When I walked out the door, I found myself looking at a covered back deck, half of it protected with baby gates.

  “Right in there,” Sasha said, leaning over the baby gate and lowering the kittens to the deck. Then she opened the gate so I could walk in with the other two. “I’ve got to get back to the front desk even though hardly anyone shows up,” she said, sounding disappointed.

  “You should get a bell for the door,” I said as I sat cross-legged on the wood slats. “Or one of those electronic chimes. Then you can step away.”

  She made a face. “Dr. Donahey doesn’t like it. She prefers to keep things quiet for the animals.”

  Considering that I didn’t know much about animals, I just nodded. “Well, thanks.” But as she started to walk away, I called after her, realizing I could use my lack of animal knowledge to my advantage. “I’ve never had a pet before, so is there any way I could talk to someone about what to expect? Like a vet tech?”

  Her face brightened. “Yeah. I’ll send someone out to you.”

  As the back door closed, I gave my full attention to the wiggling kittens crawling on top of my legs. I’d never had a pet as a kid, and my teaching schedule had kept me from my apartment for long hours, which had never seemed conducive to caring for a pet. But I had to admit the kittens were tugging at my heartstrings.

  A dark gray one seemed fascinated with my fingers, batting at them and then crawling under my hand as though trying to force me to pet it.

  I picked it up and held it to my chest, giving it some good pets, and grinned when it started to purr.

  “Looks like you found my favorite,” a woman said as she walked out the back door onto the porch.

  I glanced up to see a woman in her mid-thirties. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a pair of pale-yellow scrubs covered in parakeets and cockatiels.

  “He seems to have picked me,” I said.

  “She’s really good at that,” the woman said with a friendly smile, but the corners of her mouth looked like she was holding them a bit too high to be natural.

  Why was she acting strangely? Was she worried I’d take the kitten away?

  “Is this one taken?”

  “No, they’re all available. It’s hard to get people to take kittens or puppies around here. Dime a dozen. We’ll probably be stuck with them for months.”

  I cringed, hating the idea of the kittens being stuck in a crate for that long.

  “I was thinking about getting a pet for me and my landlord, but I work long hours and it would be difficult for him to chase around after a puppy. I’ve heard cats are pretty self-sufficient, so I figured a kitten might be a good option.” I’d had no intention of adopting a kitten when I’d walked in, but now I was beginning to give it serious thought. Maybe a kitten could keep Hank company while I was gone all day. “I’ve heard cats don’t want much attention, but this one seems to like it.”

  “Cats are a lot like people. Some people are huggers. Some people don’t want to be touched. If you actually are here looking to adopt a kitten and want a snuggler, that one is the way to go.”

  Frowning, I said, “What makes you think I don’t really want to adopt a kitten?”

  She put a hand on her hip. “I know who you are, Carly Moore. You work at the tavern and you used to date Wyatt Drummond. You’ve never stepped foot in this place, yet you walked in two days after Heather Stone was dug out of the side of a mountain. It’s as plain as day you aren’t here for a cat. You’re here to see me.”

  “So that would mean you’re Abby Atwood,” I said.

  “Dr. Abby Atwood Donahey,” she said. “DVM.”

  “I love your clinic,” I said, still stroking the kitten. “Very homey.”

  “It’s way too small, but there wasn’t much available in Drum and I don’t see a ton of patients, so the cheap rent works to my advantage.” She frowned. “I take it you’re here to ask me questions about Heather.”

  “What makes you think that?” I asked out of curiosity.

  She leaned closer. “Rumor has it that the last time Lula Baker took off, you got it in your head to go looking for her, not knowing her history, and put Greta in danger with your snoopin’.”

  The official story was that Lula had taken off and come back on her own—not entirely untrue—but the other part of the story was a whopper: our explanation for Greta’s kidnapping was that her ex-boyfriend had kidnapped her for a few days until Todd Bingham found out and made him let her go. Greta’s abusive ex was one of Bingham’s men, and Bingham had convinced him to go along with the lie. And he’d given him a well-deserved beating to go with it.

  But I was betting Abby Atwood Donahey knew none of that. “Greta’s kidnapping had nothing to do with Lula. Her ex-boyfriend got tired of her refusing him and tried to force the issue.”

  She shrugged.

  Something told me honesty would go a lot further with her, so I said, “Look, you’re half right. I would like to ask you some questions about Heather, but I’m also interested in a kitten. I’m working far too many doubles, and my landlord’s usually alone for hours. He might like a pet to keep him company. From what I understand, kittens litter box train themselves, and I’ll only have to change the litter box every few days.”

  She studied me as though trying to discern my truthfulness. “It does sound like a kitten would suit your home life better than a puppy. Especially if Hank’s havin’ trouble gettin’ around with one leg.”

  So she knew I was living with Hank. I wasn’t exactly surprised considering everything else she knew. Although we’d never met, the town gossip mill was strong. “He’s getting around better than you might expect, but that’s not to say he’s fit to chase down a puppy.”

  “How does Hank feel about gettin’ a cat?”

  I gave her a half smile. “He doesn’t know yet.”

  Fighting a smile of her own, she said, “Well, maybe you should make sure he’s okay with a new addition to the family before you commit.” She tilted her head. “You know, most people were surprised when they found out you were living with him.”

  “So I heard.” Some had claimed I was there to cheat Hank out of his money, although the man lived frugally in a house in major need of updating. But Hank had been the top marijuana dealer in Eastern Tennessee, and rumor had it he’d acquired a fortune. I’d seen no evidence of it, nor was I interested in his money other than to make sure he had all he needed to live comfortably. Truth be told, I was the one supporting him. I paid for groceries, took him to his doctor’s appointments in Greeneville, and had started slowly replacing some of his threadbare clothes—not that I minded one bit. Hank and I were a family—the way family was intended to be. But men were proud in these parts and I would never admit to any of it. “He needed help when he came home from the hospital, and I needed a place to stay. It worked out for both of us.”

  “Carnita says you’re always looking for diabetic recipes for him. And Ellie Smith says she sees you checkin’ out with fresh fruits and vegetables at the Dollar General. She said you were even asking about a farmers market.”

  I made a face, glancing down at the cute kitten cuddled in my hands.
“He had the diet of a teenager, and I want him to keep his remaining leg, as well as live a long, healthy life.”

  “She also says you buy his food with your own money.”

  How would she know that? Max only paid me in cash, so I wasn’t using my card. “He doesn’t charge me rent.”

  “Ruth says you bought Jerry a coat.”

  My eyes narrowed in exasperation. I didn’t like that the town was gossiping about me, even though it wasn’t exactly malicious gossip. Where was she going with all of this?

  “Sounds like you’re a good person, Carly Moore,” she finished, tilting her head as if to study me.

  I wasn’t so sure about that, but I wasn’t about to protest. If she thought that, she’d be more inclined to help me.

  A playful look filled her eyes. “I’ll tell you what you want to know on one condition.”

  I cocked my head. “And what’s that?”

  “If you decide to take a kitten, you have to choose two. It’s gonna take me forever to find homes for them, and I know you’ll give ’em a good one.”

  I shrugged. What was one more? Besides, maybe they’d be happier if I kept two of them together. “Deal.”

  She opened the baby gate and walked in, sitting on the floor across from me. Picking up a kitten, she said, “So what do you want to know?”

  “How long did you know Heather?”

  “Most of us were born here, but occasionally we got a newcomer. Most of them were treated as outsiders, interlopers, but Heather was pretty and vivacious, and soon she had most of the girls eating out of her palm. Half the boys too.”

  “What grade did she move to town?”

  “Third. Me and Mitzi were the closest to her. The three of us were best friends all through high school. Or so we thought.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She pushed out a sigh. “Heather could have taught a master class in gaslighting and manipulation. She loved to play us against each other, sometimes to get what she wanted, but I’m sure sometimes she did it for sport.”

  “So a lot of people didn’t like her, then?” I asked.

  “Well, that’s the weird part. She didn’t really have any enemies. She could lay on the charm as smooth as silk and as sweet as honey. When we were out of her orbit for a while, we’d realize that she’d held us under a spell and tell ourselves that we wouldn’t fall for it again. But we always did.” She gave me a pointed look. “I’m not a stupid woman. You have to be pretty intelligent to get into vet school let alone make it through, so take my word for it when I say that Heather could get anyone to do anything. She had a way of pulling people’s strings like they were puppets. Of course, when she came back the last time, I was in vet school in Knoxville, but Mitzi was still here and I’m pretty sure she got roped back into her nonsense, although she’s never admitted to it, and after Heather left, we had this unspoken agreement to not talk about her.”

  “Everybody believed that the Drummonds paid Heather to leave town. Why do you suppose no one considered that she might have been murdered?”

  Abby lifted a shoulder into a shrug. “Maybe for the same reason most people don’t think too much about it when Lula takes off.” She shook her head a little, with a ruthful smile. “I can’t believe you thought someone had snatched her.”

  I tried hard to look nonplused. Someone had tried to snatch Lula, and she’d gone into hiding. “So everybody just figured Heather had left and that was the end of that? No one ever tried to contact her or wondered why she never called or visited?”

  “You have to understand,” she said, leaning forward. “Heather was an out of sight, out of mind kind of girl. She was your best friend when she was there with you, but once you fell off her radar, it was radio silence.”

  “Do you think Mitzi would be open to talking to me?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I suspect you’re here to help Wyatt, and Mitzi’s not too fond of him. Especially after Wyatt crashed Heather’s goin’-away party.”

  I blinked hard. “Going-away party?”

  “Yeah. Heather told everyone she was leavin’ for Tulsa and got Mitzi to throw her a party. She told everyone the Drummonds had paid her to leave town, showed them the check and everything.”

  “Why Tulsa?” I asked. “Did she have family or a friend there?”

  “Dunno,” Abby said, glancing down at the kittens. “All I know is what Mitzi told me. Rumor has it that Wyatt showed up, drunk off his ass, and they went into a bedroom. When they came out, they were fightin’ like cats and dogs. Then he took off.”

  “Wyatt drove drunk. Again?” That would have been after his DUI arrest.

  “I guess so, if he was drunk when he got there. Mitzi said he didn’t stay very long. Long enough to screw her in the bedroom, then yell at her as he left.”

  “So a half hour or so?” I asked, my voice rising at the end.

  She laughed. “I couldn’t tell you, but if he was as drunk as Mitzi said, it might have taken longer.”

  I couldn’t believe that Wyatt had left out that pertinent piece of information from his version of things. Then again, he’d long since proved he was a man more inclined to partial truths than full ones.

  “You think he’s innocent, don’t you?” she asked bluntly.

  I tried not to cringe. “I just know that when Seth Chalmers was murdered, the sheriff’s department was pretty eager to find a way to pin it on me. I had to find his killers on my own to clear my name. And while Wyatt and I aren’t together, we’re still sort of friends. I had the day off, so I figured I’d ask around and see what people know.”

  She shrugged and gave me a look I interpreted as, Whatever, you do you.

  “Do you think you could give me Mitzi’s number?” I asked, already falling in love with the kitten that had fallen asleep in my arms. “I’d like to ask her some questions too.”

  She made a face. “I’m not sure I should just give you her number. She may not want to be harassed.”

  “I don’t want to harass her in any way,” I said in a rush. “I just want to have a conversation. You haven’t felt harassed, have you?” Had I come on too strong?

  “No, but Mitzi knows more about when Heather came back the last time. And she’s the one who threw the party for her.” She was quiet for a moment. “Mitzi’s not taking Heather’s death well, and she was already fragile. I don’t want her to get hurt.”

  “I promise to be gentle with her,” I said earnestly. “I’m not out to coerce people to protect Wyatt, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m out to find the truth. So if Mitzi tells me information that paints Wyatt in a bad light, I’m not going to go after her to change her story. I just want to ensure the sheriff’s department finds the real murderer.”

  “Why?” she asked with narrowed eyes. “You didn’t even know Heather. Why would you care?”

  “Because whatever flaws she might have had, Heather didn’t deserve to be murdered, and the person who did it needs to be brought to justice.” When I could see that didn’t sway her, I added, “And I guess I like playin’ PI.”

  As I suspected, that was the answer she was looking for. A wide smile spread across her face. “You weren’t obtrusive, and I really do think you’re trying to find out the truth. I’ll put in a good word for you with Mitzi and have her call you.”

  This was one of those times I wish I had a reliable cell phone. “She can call me at Max’s Tavern, although I won’t be going into work until three.” Then I remembered Bart’s invitation to have tea with Emily. “Or maybe even later. And after I leave here, I’m meeting someone for lunch at Watson’s. What if I drop by after lunch? That will give you time to call Mitzi, and you can let me know whether she agreed. I’d really like to talk to her this afternoon.”

  “Okay…” But the look on her face suggested she was reluctant.

  I glanced up at the clock on the wall. “I suppose I should be going soon, but these little guys are so cute.”

  “Are you seriou
s about adopting?” she asked as she got to her feet.

  “Yeah,” I said, holding the gray kitten in front of my face. “As long as Hank agrees, which I don’t think will be a problem. If I promise to take care of all the responsibilities and let him have all the fun, he’ll likely be on board. I’d like this little girl to be one of the two.”

  Abby’s face lit up. “Then I’ll put in a good word for you. You can leave the kittens in the pen when you’re done and just walk around back to your car. Sasha’ll be out later to bring them in. The fresh air and space will do them good.”

  Then she went inside.

  I hoped I’d just bought myself an interview.

  Chapter Eleven

  I was five minutes early, but Marco was already sitting at a table at Watson’s.

  “I need to wash my hands before I sit down,” I said, placing my purse and my messenger bag in the booth seat opposite him. “Get me an iced tea if Angie or Greta comes by to take our drink order.”

  “Already did,” he said with a grin.

  I hurried off to the bathroom to get cleaned up, and when I returned, there were two drinks on the table.

  Marco gave me a suspicious glance. “What were you up to?”

  “I figure it’s pretty obvious what happens in a bathroom, but my main reason for going was to wash off the kitten germs.”

  “Kitten germs?”

  “I was playing with kittens.”

  The look on his face made it clear he thought I was lying.

  “I swear,” I said, holding up three fingers. “Girl Scouts honor.”

  “I’d call your bluff on being a Girl Scout, but I suspect you actually were.”

  “I was until my—” I cut myself off, realizing I was about to reveal a fact about Caroline’s life rather than Charlene’s made-up backstory.

  But Marco knew my truth and must have realized why I’d stopped myself. He reached across the table and placed his hand over mine. “I’m sorry, Carly.”