Leann Sweeney - The Cat, the Lady and the Liar

I said, “I have a hard time even thinking about anyone hurting her. But I guess you’re right about being careful.”

“I know I’m right,” he said.

“Guess what I forgot. To ask about Isis. Someone put that cat outside and—”

“No one will admit to it. We’ll find out eventually,” he said.

“Why are you so sure?” I said.

“One of these people—my guess for now is Justine— will crack. The pressure of a police search yesterday, us coming here today and all of them seeing a dead woman tonight will be too much.” He rested a hand on mine. “We’ll get the truth.”

I smiled at Tom but then felt another’s presence before I looked toward the entrance to the dining room and saw him.

Farley Longworth was leaning on the doorframe. “Isn’t that sweet. I see you’ve already found a replacement, Mrs. Hart .”

He said my name with such contempt, I felt the blood drain from my face.

Tom glanced at me and then at Farley. “What’s that supposed to mean, Longworth?”

He sauntered into the room, a small balding man with skin as pale as his mother’s. “Why don’t you ask her?”

Tom stood. “I’m here to ask you questions—because your aunt hired me to do that.”

Farley was wearing navy pleated Bermuda shorts and a white polo. All that was missing was a cardigan tied around his shoulders. He took a glass from the table and poured himself some tea before sitting down. “How is Aunt Rita? And how much is she offering you to set up her family to look like criminals?”

It felt like a fist had tightened in my gut. Hearing his voice brought back that awful call he’d made and his terrible accusation that I’d killed John. I swallowed hard and put my hands in my lap. If they began to tremble, I didn’t want this man to see. I didn’t want him to know how he’d hurt me.

I felt Tom’s foot press mine, and that small gesture was enough to settle me.

He said, “Where were you last night?” Tom started off the interview where he’d finished with everyone else.

I wondered why for a second, but it was a direct and almost accusatory question. Yes. That was the right way to go after this guy.

“Did you know my father was a lawyer? He would suggest I have an attorney present to answer questions from even you. What are you? A failed cop?” Farley’s smile was smug.

“Oh, I don’t think you want to go there, Longworth,” Tom said. “I’ve got a failure list from your aunt that has your name written all over it. Where were you last night?”

Farley rolled his eyes and sighed. “If Aunt Rita thinks this is the way to get her out of trouble, I’ll go along. I actually like the old woman. I was at the movie theater. Summer blockbuster time, you know.”

“Alone?” Tom asked. “No. Dumb question. You’re probably alone most of time.”

Farley’s tongue flicked around his lips, and he picked up his glass. Then he looked at me. “Where were you? With your boyfriend here? Is he the reason you—”

“You don’t know anything about me,” I said, keeping my tone even. But I felt ready to erupt. I couldn’t let this twerp get to me. “We’re here because your aunt is afraid of her own family. Why is that, Farley ?”

Tom’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and I knew the surprise was directed my way because of my harsh tone. I still hadn’t told him what Farley had said to me.

Farley stared at me and I stared right back. We were facing off like Syrah and Isis had done the other day.

“Can’t answer that one, Longworth?” Tom said with a laugh. “Too tough a question, huh? Yeah, well, I’ll bet you could screw up a two-car funeral. That’s about how smart you are.”

“I don’t have to sit here and be insulted.” He started to get up.

Tom tapped his temple. “Think money, Longworth. Think about all the comforts of home you’ll miss out on when your aunt kicks your ass to the curb because you wouldn’t cooperate.”

Farley sat back down. “I’ve told the police everything I know. I didn’t hear my aunt leave that night. I was here the whole time. I—”

“What about Evie? Was she here? I heard you liked Evie,” Tom said.

“She went home, said she’d work from there even though she wasn’t done. But she did call for the password list. I gave it to her,” he said.

He’d gone sullen now—like the spoiled brat he probably had always been.

“Password list?” Tom asked.

“I told that cop. The hot one, not the guy,” he said. “Ask her.”

I wasn’t about to make the mistake of giving away the fact that Candace couldn’t remember most of what went on here yesterday, so I said, “The Mercy police as well as your aunt want you to cooperate. What is this password list?”

“We all have computers and bank accounts that Evie manages.” He paused and in a quiet voice said, “ Managed. Anyway, we all have passwords, but she keeps a list so she can transfer money into our accounts and I guess so she can check up on what we’re doing on our computers.”

“Each of you has two passwords and Evie knew them?” Tom asked.

“Didn’t I just say that?” he said impatiently.

“You’re getting testy, Longworth,” Tom said, obviously very interested in this arrangement. “Why would Evie Preston need the password to everyone’s computer? Why not just to the bank accounts on a main server in the house?”

“She watched the money, okay?” Farley’s face was flushed, his eyes darting everywhere to avoid meeting Tom’s.

Tom leaned back with a smile. “Let me guess. Online porn? Or online gambling? Which one was Evie keeping an eye on at your aunt’s request?”

“Gambling,” Farley muttered. He looked up. “Happy now? And just so you know, she watched what everyone was doing. Like how much dear mummy was ordering from the liquor store every week. Where Augusta was shopping online. How much jewelry Muriel ordered from that stupid QVC television station.”

Oh boy. Had that been Ritaestelle’s idea? Or Evie’s? Is that what got her killed? But I remembered then that he said he’d answered the phone that night. That made me want to ask a question that had bothered me from the start.

“Do you always answer the phone?” I said.

“No one else will, so yeah, I play servant most days.” He refused to look at me.

Was he anticipating my question? “Did you talk to Shawn Cuddahee when he called about Ritaestelle’s missing cat?”

“What if I did?” he said. “The man wouldn’t be straight with me about what he wanted, so why should I be straight with him?”

“You knew who he was?” I said.

“I know how to use Google. What does that have to do with anything?” But something in Farley’s expression and that evasiveness said it did have something to do with everything .

“You never passed the message on to Ritaestelle or Evie?” I asked.

“Why should I?” he answered.

Farley Longworth might be the most immature forty-year-old I’d ever met. “Because your aunt loved her cat. You had to know that Shawn calling her more than once was probably about Isis.”

I could almost see his brain working to find an angle to put this in a good light. And he found it. “See, that’s just it. Do I want my aunt, who’s obviously physically and mentally ill, to become more disturbed by the news that her cat was found dead?”

“Come on, Longworth,” Tom said. “A rescue shelter wouldn’t be calling with that news. The county animal control officer would do that job if Isis had been found dead.”

“I didn’t know why he was phoning. You know why? Because he was a smart-ass and wouldn’t say. I blew it off. So what?”