Софи Келли - Final Catcall

“Hi,” he said. “Hannah has it, so I’m driving a station car. What happened?”

I gestured over my shoulder. “It’s Hugh Davis. Andrew and I found his body at the lookout.”

He glanced briefly over at Andrew and then his eyes came back to me. “What were you doing here?”

“Andrew had a piece of staging to bring over. He needed my truck. I drove because of the water main break in front of the hotel.”

“Did you see anyone?”

I shook my head and tucked a strand of windblown hair behind one ear. “No. We unloaded the section of staging. Then we decided to climb up to the lookout for the view. I didn’t see anyone.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m just glad you’re all right.” His hand moved as though he was going to touch me and then he stopped himself. “I’m going to talk to your friend for a minute. Stay here. Please?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

I wrapped my arms around my midsection and watched him walk over to Andrew. They talked for a couple of minutes and then Andrew started toward me. “We can go,” he said when he got within earshot.

Marcus was just starting up the wooden steps to the lookout. As though he could feel my eyes on him, he turned and looked over his shoulder. After a moment’s hesitation I raised a hand and he did the same.

I fished the keys to the truck out of my pocket. I couldn’t believe Hugh Davis was dead. I thought about him showing the little girl at the library how to be a cat just a few hours ago. What was he doing up on the lookout? Why would anyone have wanted to shoot him? He had been a bit of a diva, but that wasn’t really a reason to kill someone.

I had a lot of questions and no answers. I couldn’t help glancing back toward the bluff one more time as I unlocked the truck.

“He’s the reason you’re thinking of staying, isn’t he?” Andrew said.

I stared at him across the bed of the truck. “What?”

“The detective. He’s why you’re thinking about not coming home.”

I sighed, tipped my head back and looked up at the stars just winking on overhead. I was thinking about not going back to Boston because of Maggie. And because of Roma. And Rebecca and Susan and every other friend I’d made in Mayville Heights. Because of all the work I’d put into the library. Because of my little house, and Owen and Hercules. And yes, because of Marcus.

After a moment I dropped my head and looked at Andrew again. “No. There’s nothing going on between Marcus and me.”

I slid onto the bench seat and leaned across to unlock the passenger door. Andrew got in, fastened his belt and then shifted sideways a little to look at me.

“There was something, though,” he said. He held up a hand. “And don’t say no, because even if I hadn’t heard a few things around town, I’d be able to tell just watching the two of you.” He rested one hand, palm down on the dashboard. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because there’s nothing to tell. Marcus and I are friends. We went out a few times, but that’s it.”

I didn’t want to talk about Marcus with Andrew. I didn’t really want to talk about him with anyone—not Maggie, not Roma. Even Owen and Hercules seemed to have an opinion. I didn’t want to hear that we could work things out. Because we couldn’t.

Andrew didn’t say anything else until I pulled out of the lot. “So what went wrong?” he asked. “Don’t tell me he got drunk and married a waitress he’d just met?” I knew he was trying to lighten the mood. It was something he always did when things got tense or angry.

“No, you’re the only person I know who’s done that.” I shot him a quick glance. “Marcus and I just don’t look at life the same way, that’s all.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him nod his head. “I’d take it back if I could,” he said after another silence.

I slowed down to let a car turn in front of us. “I believe you,” I said, this time keeping my eyes fixed on the road.

“Then give me another chance. I swear I won’t screw it up again.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It can be,” he said, his voice low and intense. “Just think about it. You and I were happy once. And we could be again. Come home. And I’m not saying that because we found a dead body. Come home for us. Maybe he doesn’t appreciate you, but I do.”

“A year and a half is a long time, Andrew,” I said, turning my blinker on. “I’m not the person I used to be.”

He took his hand away. “You’re not as different as you think you are, Kathleen. Think about what I said, okay? Just think about it.”

I dropped Andrew at the theater and went back to the library. Mary was at the checkout desk getting the requests ready to be put on the pick-up shelf. “I’m sorry we took so long,” I said, pulling off my sweater.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I think we’ve had maybe half a dozen people in all evening. Even for a Friday it’s been quiet.” She held out a yellow message slip. “Abigail called.”

I rubbed the top of my left shoulder. It was still a little stiff. “I’ll go call her,” I said.

Mary shook her gray curls. “She said she’ll call you in the morning. She’s having problems with her phone.”

Abigail was going to have a lot on her plate once news got out that Hugh Davis was dead. Marcus hadn’t asked me to keep that information to myself, but I knew that’s what he’d want. I made a mental note to check in with Abigail in the morning if I didn’t hear from her.

It was almost time to close up for the night. “Where’s Susan?” I asked.

“Shelving over in cookbooks,” Mary said, waving a hand in the direction of the nonfiction section.

I threaded my way around the magazines, stopping to put a couple of back issues of National Geographic into their slot. Susan came toward me, pushing an empty book cart.

I tapped my watch. “It’s almost time to close.”

“Want me to shut down the computers?” she asked. Her glasses were stuck on the top of her head and her topknot was listing to one side.

“Please,” I said. All of a sudden I was tired. It had been a long day and I just remembered that I hadn’t had any supper. I rolled my neck from one side to the other.

Susan frowned. “You okay, Kathleen?” she asked.

“Just tired,” I said. “I think I’ll go home, fill the tub full of bubbles and eat brownies while I soak.”

“Take me with you,” she said. “I have to go home and put the boys in the tub. No bubbles.”

“They figure they’re too old for that stuff now?” I asked.

She made a face. “Not exactly.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “What did they do? Fill the bathroom with bubbles?”

“The washing machine. And the laundry room. And half the basement.” She pulled her glasses down onto her nose. “Trust me, don’t say ‘bubbles’ to Eric.” She rolled her eyes and set out for the circulation desk with her cart.

Upstairs, Hugh Davis’s things were still in the workroom. The door was locked, so I decided I’d just leave things the way they were and call Marcus once I was home.

Hercules was in the backyard when I came around the side of the house, but I didn’t see him at first. I was unlocking the door when he meowed from somewhere behind me. I looked around and discovered he was sitting on the wooden bench under the maple tree. If it hadn’t been for the white fur on his face and chest he would have blended into the darkness.

“Are you coming in?” I asked. Because of his wall-walking ability, he came and went as he pleased.

He looked up into the branches over his head. The war between Herc and a particularly brazen grackle had been heating up over the past few weeks. Hercules had apparently snagged one of the bird’s tail feathers and the grackle—which I’d named Professor Moriarty—had come this close to getting a tuft of hair from the cat’s head. For Hercules the bigger affront was his nemesis stealing two sardine cat crackers that he’d been about to eat.