Leann Sweeney - The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon

I read quickly, but found nothing in the story I didn’t already know. The byline belonged to Kara, and I decided to call her and see if anything new had come to her attention since she wrote the story. When I reached her, she said she was on her way to take tile samples over to her property and maybe I could meet her and help her decide what she should put in her new kitchen.

Sounded like an excellent distraction.

The sunny days seemed to be over as dark clouds clustered in the west. I carried my umbrella up the new stone walkway leading to Kara’s soon-to-be front door. She greeted me before I could even knock.

We hugged and she glanced out at the sky. “Another cold front on the way, I expect.”

Once inside, she led me to the back of the house, where about ten different ceramic tiles were laid out on the kitchen floorboards.

Her hair was in a ponytail and she was wearing a big flannel shirt and blue jeans. She stood, hands on hips, looking down at the tiles. “What do you think of these?”

I let my eyes travel over the tiles, some big, some small and all earth tones. I pointed a toe at a large mottled beige and brown tile. “This one would complement the brown granite you picked out for your countertop.”

She nodded, still looking down. “Making all these choices—tile, brick, stone, appliances, paint colors—is proving harder than I thought.” She looked at me then. “But in a good way. Your tough times aren’t good at all. You okay after last night?” She rubbed my upper arm sympathetically.

“I’m worried, Kara. Finn ran away again. Tom drove around all night looking for him, but no one has seen or heard from him.”

“Shondra, my girl who monitors the scanner, told me she heard something about Finn disappearing. Did he go before or after he heard about his father’s murder?” she said.

“Apparently it was after.” I explained how Hilary had told Finn about Gannon’s death.

Kara cocked her head. “What is wrong with her? Though I suppose someone who marries two men who went to jail and who later ended up murdered might not be too competent at thinking through her choices and examining possible consequences.”

“Don’t forget she also married Tom, who is a far cry from the likes of Nolan Roth or Rory Gannon,” I said.

“She slipped into a period of good judgment, then ruined it by cheating on Tom,” Kara said.

“You’re right,” I said. “But after meeting her and talking to her, those mistakes don’t seem to match up with what I’ve seen. She seems, well, nice . Karen really likes her and believes Tom has been way too hard on her.”

“Karen loves Finn. I’m willing to bet she’d do anything to keep him in her life—even kiss up to a woman who did wrong by her son.” Kara’s attention returned to the tiles.

“You’re probably right,” I said. “Since Hilary was once close to Tom, I’ve been giving her the benefit of the doubt. Guess I don’t want to seem jealous—not that I am.”

Kara laughed. “You don’t have a jealous bone in your body. You know who’s nice ? You. Way too nice, if you ask me.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You don’t know how to say no,” she said. “You put everyone ahead of yourself. I’m afraid you’ll burn out one day.”

“No, working in the textile arts business burned me out and is why I left to come here,” I said. “I can only be true to myself—and for the most part, that means thinking the best of people before they show me differently.”

“I guess I wouldn’t want you to change. You’re pretty special.” She knelt and picked up a creamy tile, one shinier than the others. “I like this one, but I’m afraid it would show every streak and smudge.”

“I think you’re right,” I said. “Sorry I missed seeing you last night, by the way. Were all the neighbors hanging around in the street when you got to Tom’s house—now known as the crime scene ?”

“Of course. Strange how people seemed to lose interest when they found out Rory Gannon was a stranger, not a Mercy citizen. I overheard one man being interviewed by an officer, though. He said he’d seen a guy fitting Gannon’s description hanging around Tom’s house.”

“When did he see him?” I asked.

Kara pressed her thumb on the tile she held and then tilted it back and forth in the dull light coming through the windows. “Ah,” she said. “This one even picks up fingerprints. I can narrow the choice by one, anyway.” She set the tile on the floor facedown.

“When, Kara?” I said.

“Sorry. When what?”

I repeated the question.

“Day before yesterday,” she said. “I talked to the neighbor after the officer was done with him, hoping to get an angle for the paper. The neighbor said he asked the stranger if he was looking for Tom and the guy mumbled something about how his boy, Finn, needed to hear something important, that he had to find him. Then the neighbor said he took off.”

“Gannon was all over town and he obviously knew all the places Finn might be,” I said.

“Even here.” Kara shuddered. “I, for one, am glad he won’t be coming back.”

My phone rang and while Kara squatted in front of her tiles, her fist supporting her chin, I took a call from Karen.

“Jillian, I need your help. I can’t do it. I know I should be able to, but I simply cannot.”

“Slow down, Karen,” I said. “What are you talking about?”

“This blood sugar thing,” she said. “I’ve tried several times, even had Ed hold the cat for me and still no luck. Dashiell’s poor ears don’t seem to have a drop of blood left. Ed had to go to the shop for a delivery from a yard sale in Woodcrest. He said I’d figure it out, but he’s wrong. I can’t.”

Tom was probably home, just a few steps down the street, but he’d been up all night. I decided I could handle this problem while he got some rest. “Why don’t I swing by and help you?”

“Would you? Oh, how very sweet.”

I told her to expect me in about twenty minutes, since Kara’s place was pretty far out of town.

I drove by Tom’s house on the way to see Karen. A large wad of crime scene tape stuffed in the garbage can at the end of his driveway brought back last night’s events all too vividly. I could picture Gannon’s leg sticking out from under the holly and blinked away the image.

Though I expected to find Karen alone with Dashiell, I was at first surprised when Bob answered the door holding a coffee mug. Then I remembered Morris brought him here last night.

After I said hello as politely as I could, I said, “You’ve seen Dashiell get tested. You didn’t think you could help your mother?”

“Cats and I do not get along,” he said.

I couldn’t hide my dislike for him anymore. “Ah. Maybe that explains why an indoor cat like Dashiell ended up outside not once, but twice while in your care.”

“A little fire from the cat lover. I like it.” Bob gestured toward the kitchen. “They’re in there.”

I followed the smell of freshly made coffee and found poor Dashiell backed in a corner with Karen crouched in front of him, her hand extended. She turned to look at me and I saw misery in her eyes.

“I’m no good at this, Jillian. Thank you for coming.”

I said, “Has he had his insulin?”

She stood. “I did manage the shot. Those are easy.”

I didn’t tell her she probably should have tested his sugar level before giving him his insulin, because I didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was. Seeing how unhappy she was, I guessed the cat wasn’t her biggest problem. She was worried about Finn, first and foremost.