Leann Sweeney - The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon

I said, “Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t remember.”

Finn smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I think you’re right.”

“In her confession,” Tom said, “Hilary admits she told Gannon to run the Prius off the road when he found my car and”—Tom glanced at Finn—“and take care of business. Heck, she practically gave him the GPS coordinates since she’d been chatting it up with Nolan. If she’d known you were in the car, Finn, who knows how this would have turned out.”

“Why didn’t he kill me, too?” Finn said.

“Because knowing Hilary,” Tom said, “Gannon would have received explicit instructions not to go off script—at least at first. He was supposed to get rid of Nolan; that’s all. When he looked at your phone and realized who you were, I’m sure he called Hilary and was told not to hurt you. You were the paycheck, after all. Only Hilary didn’t have him completely under her thumb. He started showing up everywhere—really did go off script.”

“Hilary was sure a cold one,” Ed said. “But a coward. Stabbed Gannon in the back. If I ever felt an urgent need to kill someone, I’d look them in the eye.”

“Unlike her, you wouldn’t ever hurt anyone, Ed,” I said.

“Nope. I catch catfish, though. But I don’t think it hurts them.” He chuckled and went to the sink to wash his hands before breading the filets.

“She was cold,” Finn said, his mood more melancholy than I’d seen in the last week.

“We don’t have to talk about this anymore,” I said. It’s too much for him , I decided. He needs time to heal .

“No. Don’t stop,” he said, sounding determined. “I want to know everything that was happening behind the scenes—because see, I knew what she was capable of. I saw how she manipulated Nolan. I also dealt firsthand with Nolan’s frustration over her bossing him around. Tell me this. How’d she find my father the night he died?”

“Hilary made a decision to get rid of anyone who might want a share of Mom’s money,” Tom said. “With Gannon showing up all over town, saying he needed to tell Finn something, she thought he might have grown a conscience. Might even confess to killing Nolan. He was a risk. Heck, she probably told him my address and instructed him to meet her there.”

Risk, I thought. I was reminded Bob might be here any minute.

But it was Yoshi and Karen who arrived through the back door. I saw Ed nearly jump out of his skin when he spied the dog.

“After his long walk, maybe Yoshi could use a nap,” I said, eyeing Finn.

He got the message. “Yeah. I’ll take him to the guest room.”

But before he could take the leash, Yoshi took off and ran down the basement stairs. Four cats were hot on his tail.

“I’ll get him,” Finn said, pounding down the stairs after the animals.

Karen looked at the door to the basement, toward where Finn had gone, her smile heartwarming. We all had a wonderful job ahead—to make up for all the love Finn had lost.

An hour later, with Bob still not making an appearance, we all sat down at my dining room table for another wonderful fish-fry dinner—one I truly enjoyed. Meanwhile, Yoshi and the cats seemed content to stay in the basement for some reason. About halfway through the meal, I heard my phone ding. But I wasn’t about to be rude enough to check my messages while we were eating.

Good thing the animals didn’t reappear until we’d cleared the table. Karen and Tom insisted on doing the dishes and I sat down with Ed and Finn in the living room.

I heard the pets race up the basement stairs and was about to tell Ed he might want to hide, but there was no time.

Yoshi came running up to Ed. He had a mouse in his mouth.

I covered my mouth in horror and saw four cats who seemed completely disgusted that a dog had muscled in on their territory.

With Yoshi’s tail wagging furiously, he seemed to be offering Ed a gift.

Ed smiled. “What’s this?”

“Yoshi’s a rat terrier,” Finn said. “Good as a cat at catching rodents.”

Ed nodded and took the mouse from Yoshi’s jaws. “This is a dog I just might like.”

Finn laughed and the cats converged, hoping to get a taste of mouse for themselves.

While Ed and Yoshi continued to bond, with Finn’s help, I went to the end table where I’d set my phone.

My first thought after I read the words on the screen was something Candace once told me: “You can’t con a con man.” I tried to fool Bob by omitting that his whole family would be here for dinner. It hadn’t worked.

The text message I’d received from Bob was simple and to the point: Can’t meet with you. I’m gone.

Dashiell hadn’t liked the idea of getting into a cat carrier—but then what cat did? I was now searching the nooks and crannies in my house for spots he might have hidden, glad he would finally be going home. Of course, he thought he was headed for the vet and had taken off the minute I pulled the carrier up the basement stairs.

With Thanksgiving come and gone, and the Christmas season upon us, I smiled at the thought of what a wonderful holiday this would be for Finn and his family—his real family. Not blood relations, but the people who cared deeply about him.

I’d managed to close the basement door when Dashiell ran off, but the rest of the house was Dashiell’s playground for this game of hide-and-go-seek.

As my three cats followed me around—and were no help whatsoever—I thought about how Dashiell was the one who started this latest journey of mine. I felt very lucky I’d met Finn—and gotten to know Tom so much better.

I was on my belly, looking under the guest room bed for about the fourth time, when I heard someone knocking loudly on my back door. Syrah took off immediately, his curiosity piqued.

Merlot decided on a more leisurely stroll out of the guest room, while Chablis decided she’d wait right where she was—in the fairly safe guest room. Yoshi’s stay here had spooked her and convinced me a dog wasn’t in my immediate future, even though I adored dogs. Yoshi had gone with Finn to live at Tom’s house and my home had felt a little lonely without them. Now it was Dashiell’s turn to go live with Tom, Yoshi and Finn. I’d agreed to allow Yoshi an adjustment period at his new place by keeping Dashiell with me, even though the two seemed to get along just fine while they’d been here together.

I made it to the back door and said, “Who’s there?”

“It’s me,” called Tom. “Is something wrong with Dashiell?”

I unlocked the dead bolt and the other door lock and when I let Tom in, he said, “Good job keeping this place secure. But we expected you over at the house at least thirty minutes ago.”

I stared up at him. “You could have called—and I would have told you the problem. Dashiell is a reluctant traveler. I don’t blame him, either. Cat carrier equals Doc Jensen in his cat mind.”

“He’s hiding?” Tom asked.

“Yup,” I said, blowing up at the bangs that had fallen into my eyes.

“No, he’s not,” Tom said with a smile.

“Yes, he—” I heard a small meow. The elusive Mr. Dashiell must have heard Tom’s voice.

“He has a pitiful voice for such a big cat,” I said.

“I still love him.” Tom pulled me to him and gazed down into my eyes. “But not as much as I love you.”

Before I could respond, he kissed me.

I liked the kiss, liked the words and liked how, when we came apart, four cats were staring up at us looking, well… happy.