Leann Sweeney - The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon

Syrah sniffed the food while Yoshi sat patiently and watched. My cat took his time and finally walked away, seemingly indifferent. Merlot didn’t even bother checking out the kibble and Chablis had only shown her whiskers momentarily and then rushed off to whatever safe place she’d found to hide from Yoshi. Only then did the little dog eat.

As we put away groceries, Kara asked if she needed to pick Dashiell up. I told her Tom said he planned to do it—and would then be kicking his brother out of the house.

“Do you know anything about Bob and Tom’s history?” Kara asked as she stacked cans of cat food on the pantry shelf.

“Nothing, except Tom can’t stand him,” I said. “I’m pretty sure Karen isn’t feeling the love, either.” I was checking out the sweatshirts, jeans and T-shirts Kara had bought for Finn. They looked like they’d fit, plus they appeared a lot more teen friendly than what I would have bought.

“Ah, it’s logical Karen would know about Finn,” Kara said. “From what little contact I’ve had with Karen, she strikes me as, well… odd.”

“She’s different, yes. But she adores Finn.” I told Kara about our lunch and then said, “Tom’s ex is in town, too.”

“I expected her to arrive and hoped to get an interview,” Kara said. “How did you find out she was here?”

“She was at the police station and wanted to talk to Finn, but he wanted nothing to do with her,” I said.

“Is Tom going to have her arrested for what she and Nolan Roth did to him?” she said. “You did say Tom thought she was involved, right?”

“There could be a problem. See, Candace told us Hilary claims she knew nothing about Nolan’s actions. Since Tom never saw her when Nolan made him drive to North Carolina, I’m not sure what will happen.”

“Uh-oh. A he-said, she-said problem. What’s she like, by the way?” Kara asked.

“First impression? Normal. Concerned. Oh, and gorgeous,” I said. “She’ll be at the Pink House, if you want an interview.”

Kara’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

I started at the sound of a knock at the back door, but then realized it was Candace’s special rat-a-tat. She came in looking even more tired than when I’d seen her last at the police station.

“Hey, you two. I heard about Gannon. He didn’t come back, did he?” she said.

“No,” I said. “But he said he would. The man’s intense, to say the least.”

“I’m so glad you called us. B.J. screwed up on this one.” Candace took a spot at the breakfast bar. “I sure hope you have tea because I need a sugar boost in the worst way.”

Kara poured her a glass and then took her keys from the pocket of her jeans. “I have a paper to run. Call me if you need anything, Jillian.”

She waved to us both and was gone.

Candace took a long drink of tea. “Tell me about this Gannon guy.”

“You haven’t found him?” I asked, filling a glass with water. My lunch had probably supplied an entire week’s worth of sodium and I was thirsty now.

“No. We are so undermanned we only had one squad car to follow up on the BOLO. They thought they’d run into him coming away from this neighborhood, but nothing. It’s like he disappeared into thin air.”

“He said he’d be back—and I believe him.” I drank half my water, realizing my heart had sped up again at the thought of his return.

“What did he want?” she asked.

“He wants his son. Thinks I’m hiding him.” Syrah was weaving between my legs and rubbing his head on my calves. Marking his territory in case the curious Yoshi got any ideas, no doubt.

“I searched the NCIC database before I came here,” Candace said. “I don’t want to scare you any more than you already are, but you need to know this. About fifteen years ago, Gannon served time—first in a hospital for the criminally insane and then when he was competent to stand trial, he did a stint in prison.”

I drank the rest of my water, the glass nearly slipping from my trembling hand. “F-for what?”

“He went nuts when he was pulled over on a routine traffic stop,” she said. “Wailed on the officer with a baseball bat he conveniently had in his front seat. Put the officer in critical condition. Seems Gannon claimed the officer was an alien. He was convicted of felonious assault, so this guy is a violent offender.”

“Both Kara and I knew he was off, but now I’m even more scared of him,” I said. “My question is, how did he find out Finn was in Mercy?”

“Exactly. I have no idea. But I intend to find out. Violent offenders reoffend. He could be our killer—but I have to find him and interview him before coming to any conclusion on that.” She stood. “Where’s Finn, by the way?”

“He’s with Karen,” I said.

“I’ll ask the squad car out in the field to run by her neighborhood,” she said. “If Gannon found you, he might be able to find Karen, too. She was at the diner with you, right?”

“Yes, she was there and so was Tom.” I tore at a cuticle with my teeth.

“Guess we should alert Tom to the situation. Trouble is, the man doesn’t have a cell phone and I don’t have the time to—”

“I’ll go to his place and tell him. He planned to pick up Dashiell and then see if he could extricate his brother from the house. He’ll want to protect Finn and his mother from Gannon.”

Candace pointed at me. “You lock this place up tight and set your alarm—whether you’re out of the house or not. You hear me? If anything happened to you, well…” She shook her head and averted her eyes.

I walked around and hugged Candace. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Fifteen minutes later, the late-afternoon sun doing little to kill the chill in the air, I pulled into Tom’s driveway. As soon as I got within five feet of the front door, I heard raised voices. My stomach tightened and I stood still. What is going on now ?

Then I recognized the voices of both Tom and Bob exchanging heated barbs. I went to the door and knocked loudly so they could hear me over their argument.

Bob was saying, “You owe me, brother. Mom owes me. I’m tired of this family crap.”

I knocked even louder, and this time Tom opened the door. His face was flushed with anger and his eyes had what looked like minuscule red lightning strikes mapping the whites.

He said, “Oh. Hi.”

“Hi.” I smiled, wishing I could relieve the distress that seemed to have taken over his whole demeanor. Too many awful things had happened to him in the last week.

“Come on in.” He stood aside so I could enter. “Bob was just leaving.”

Didn’t look like he was leaving to me. He was standing, arms folded, his cheeks just as red as Tom’s. No flirty smile today.

“Where am I supposed to go?” Bob said.

“Back under the rock you slithered out from,” Tom answered.

“Um, guys, please. This isn’t good for either of you.” I felt out of place playing referee, but someone had to. The bad blood between these two must have gone back a long way.

Turned out, a cat accomplished what only pets can do. Dashiell came lumbering into the living room and offered up a pitiful meow.

“See?” I said. “Even Dashiell wants you to stop.”

Tom looked embarrassed. Even the brash Bob looked down at the floor.

Tom said, “You’re right. The stress isn’t good for Dashiell. His blood sugar is stable and I want it to stay that way.”

I knelt and Dashiell came to me. He rubbed against my knees. I petted him, glad he could do catlike things again after the major scare of finding him unconscious. “He looks fine, Tom. I know you must be relieved.”

“Guess I should say I’m sorry for letting him escape,” Bob said. “I had no idea he’d get so sick.”