Софи Келли - Final Catcall

Marcus had gotten to his feet.

“Good to see you, Detective,” Brady said. The two men shook hands and then Marcus introduced him to Hannah.

Brady took the chair where I’d been sitting and I slid into the seat opposite Marcus. He pulled a small notebook and a mechanical pencil from his pocket. “Okay, tell me what happened.”

I explained how I’d found the newspaper clipping in the box of papers and recognized Hannah’s handwriting. Brady held up his hand. “Not one word,” he said to Hannah. He looked at Marcus and me. “We’re going to move to another table and you two are going to stay here.”

“I already explained things to them,” Hannah said.

Brady shook his head. “Doesn’t change anything,” he said. He got to his feet. After a moment’s hesitation Hannah followed him.

We sat in silence for at least a couple of minutes. Marcus watched his sister and Brady and I drank my coffee. Finally Brady pulled out his cell phone and made a brief call.

Hannah got up and came over to us. “We’re set,” she said. “Detective Lind is at the police station. We’re going to talk to her.”

“I’ll come with you,” Marcus said, getting to his feet again.

She shook her head. “No, you won’t. I agreed to a lawyer, but I’m not taking you with me. I’m not six, Marcus.”

“I’m a police officer,” he said. “I know how things work.”

She gestured toward Brady. “And he’s a lawyer. I’m guessing he knows how things work as well.” She took a step back from the table. “I’ll see you later.” She turned to me. “Thank you, Kathleen, for all your help.”

“You’re welcome,” I said.

Marcus stood there without speaking until they were gone. “I’ll take care of the check and I’ll walk you out,” he said.

“I’ll get it,” I said, zipping up my hoodie, but he was already on his way to the counter.

I waited and we walked outside together.

“And thank you for calling Brady Chapman,” he said once we were on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.

“Thank Lita next time you see her.”

He nodded. “I will.”

I checked my watch. I had just enough time to go home, have a shower and go to Maggie’s—after I gave Hercules the sardines I’d promised him.

“Hannah shouldn’t be very long,” I said to Marcus.

“Why didn’t you tell me what your friend saw?” he asked.

I should have seen that conversational detour coming. “I didn’t exactly have a chance,” I said. “I didn’t realize Andrew had seen anything until a few hours ago. He didn’t know that what he’d noticed was important.”

Marcus jammed his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “You could have called me.”

I tipped my head to one side and looked up at him. “I could have, but I was hoping somehow that I was wrong.”

“Hannah said it wasn’t her.”

I exhaled slowly. “I think she’s lying. I don’t know why and I wish she wasn’t, but I think she is.” I tucked a strand of hair behind one ear. “I didn’t want to put you in a difficult position because your sister was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“You really think it was her who drove past the marina last night?”

“How many navy blue SUVs with roof racks are there in this town, Marcus? Most people drive cars or half-tons.”

He looked past me out toward the water. “You don’t know that for sure,” he said.

“It was Hannah, Marcus,” I said. “You think it was, too.”

It took another long moment before he looked at me again.

“So now you know what I’m thinking?”

I tipped my head back for a moment and stared up at the clouds coming in from the river. When I looked at him again I tried to keep the frustration out of my voice. “No. I never know what you’re thinking. But I noticed you said, ‘Hannah said it wasn’t her,’ not ‘it wasn’t her.’” I swallowed the lump in my throat. This was what we always did and it always ended the same way. “Maybe I was trying to protect you, Marcus. Did you think of that?”

He opened his mouth as though he was going to say something and then closed it again.

His cases were always going to come between us. How could we be friends? How could we be anything? For the first time I wondered if maybe I should go back to Boston with Andrew.

“I’m sorry,” I said, then turned and walked away down the sidewalk.

“Kathleen, hang on,” he called after me.

“My cat’s waiting for me,” I said.

I didn’t look back over my shoulder and, as usual, he didn’t come after me.

12

Hercules was asleep on the passenger side of the truck, with his head on one paw and the other curled around his nose. He lifted his head and gave a curious “Merow” when I got in.

“Marcus is a dipwad,” I said darkly.

He put his head back down on the blanket that covered the front seat. Clearly that wasn’t news to him.

There was no sign of Owen when we got home. I got Hercules half a sardine as payment for keeping me company and put out fresh water for both cats. Upstairs I grabbed my robe and headed into the bathroom for a quick shower. I gave a squeak of surprise when I discovered Herc had followed me and was sitting on the top of the toilet tank.

When I started he jumped, almost losing his footing.

“What are you doing in here?” I asked, hanging my robe on the hook on the back of the door.

His response was to look around at the pale cream walls as though he was thinking about redecorating.

“I’m going to have a shower.” I put the shower curtain inside the claw-foot tub. “You can stay if you want to.”

I figured Hercules would leave as soon as the water started, but he was perched in the same place when I got out. Looking at him sitting there, I remembered Ruby’s invitation to see his portrait. “Ruby finished your picture,” I said. “She’s going to show it to me on Monday.”

He jumped down, making a wide circuit around any possible damp spots on the floor, sat in front of me—albeit far enough away that no stray drops of water would get on him—and meowed loudly.

“Do you want to go with me?”

He looked over his shoulder at the door.

“You’ll have to spend the morning at the library.”

He licked his lips.

“No,” I said firmly, shaking my head for emphasis. “I’m not buying you a breakfast sandwich from Eric’s.”

His shoulders sagged and he hung his head. He was the picture of cat dejection, except that I’d witnessed this little act before. Plus I could see one green eye watching me.

“It’s not working,” I said, pushing past him to go back into the bedroom.

After a moment he followed, rubbing against my leg as I put on my favorite purple sweater. Since the woebegone-kitty approach hadn’t worked, he’d decided to try sucking up. He hadn’t considered the body lotion Maggie had made for my dry skin. The rich cream was infused with lavender.

Hercules screwed up his face as he got a noseful of the scent. He sneezed and jumped because he always scared himself when he did that. He sneezed three more times in rapid succession, starting at the sound each time.

I made a shooing motion with one hand. “Go downstairs and get a drink.”

He glared at me and stalked out of the room. I heard him sneeze one more time on his way down the stairs.

When I went down to the kitchen, he was sitting by the refrigerator, washing his face with more vigor than usual.

“I’ll see you later,” I said. “I won’t be late.”

No acknowledgment. I’d been put on Ignore.

I found Owen on the porch bench, looking out into the backyard. I sat down beside him. “I’m leaving,” I said. “Time to go inside.”