Миранда Джеймс - Six Cats A Slayin'

“I suppose it’s just as well he’s staying here today,” I told Azalea as I gathered my briefcase and my coat. “He can help babysit so that you don’t have to worry about them climbing out somehow and getting lost in the house.”

Azalea chuckled. “Suits me fine, Mr. Charlie. You go on to work and don’t worry about us.”

I nodded. “Call me if you need anything. I can run by the grocery store when I come home for lunch if necessary.” I headed out the back door into the garage.

As I backed down the driveway to the street, I kept my eyes on the rearview camera in my new car. My previous car hadn’t had this device, and I was still getting used to it. Suddenly a flash of movement on the screen startled me, and I hit the brakes as I was about to back into the street.

My heart thudded from what might have been a near miss. I turned to look back and saw a smartly dressed young black woman standing on the sidewalk a few feet away. She was waving at me. I put the car in park and rolled down my window.

“Good morning, Mr. Harris.” She stepped closer and stooped enough so that I could see her face without craning my neck out the window. “Sorry if I startled you, but I saw you backing out, and I wanted to catch you before you got away.” She smiled.

I tried not to sound grumpy when I replied, but I might not have been completely successful. “What can I do for you, ma’am? If we’ve met, I regret to say I don’t remember your name.”

The young woman, who I judged to be in her late twenties, smiled again. “Oh, we haven’t met, but I know all about you. My employer, Mrs. Albritton, told me about you. Actually, she sent me out to catch you.”

I suspected a trap. I had avoided face-to-face contact with Gerry Albritton for the past couple of days because I had still not made up my mind about the blasted holiday party she was throwing. I had no doubt she had sent this young woman to get an answer out of me.

Gerry’s assistant continued to speak. “My name is Jincy Bruce.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Bruce.” I repeated my question. “What can I do for you?”

“Gerry wanted me to ask you about her party,” Jincy replied. “She knows how busy you are, but she’s trying to nail down the guest list before she gives the caterer the final numbers. She needs to do that this afternoon.”

I interpreted the smile that accompanied this message as apologetic. Was chasing down guests part of Jincy Bruce’s regular duties? I wondered.

I was tempted to say that I had other plans, simply to be contrary, but I realized that was a childish response. So I forced myself to smile before I answered.

“Please tell Gerry that I will be delighted to attend and that I will be bringing my partner. I believe the invitation was issued to me and guest .”

“Your partner ?” Jincy looked confused for a moment; then she grinned as if struck by something amusing. “Oh, I see. Thanks, Mr. Harris, I’ll let Gerry know. Bye, now!” She waved as she turned to hurry across the street.

I sat there a moment, puzzled by Jincy Bruce’s reaction to my statement. What had she found so amusing? Was it my use of the word partner ? What was so funny about that?

Still puzzled, I put the car in reverse and continued backing into the street. Had the day not been on the chilly side with a hint of rain later on, I might have walked to the Athena College Library. The drive took less than ten minutes because the campus lay so close to my neighborhood, and it was an easy walk when the weather complied. Today, however, I might need the car, not only to run an errand later but also to stay dry if the rain came as predicted.

Going to work at the archive without Diesel felt odd. Over the years since I found him, wet and shivering in the bushes of the parking lot at the public library, he had rarely missed a day accompanying me. I knew Melba would be disappointed not to see her little buddy, but she would get a kick out of hearing about Diesel the kitten-sitter.

I stuck my head in Melba’s office to wish her a good morning. She looked up from her desk with a grin—that slowly faded when she realized I was alone.

“Good morning, Charlie.” She got up from the desk and walked toward me, her expression anxious. “Where’s Diesel? Is he sick?”

“No, he’s fine.” I grinned. “He decided he’d rather stay home with the kids today.”

Melba laughed. “Has he decided to be their nanny?”

“Looks like it,” I replied. “Frankly, I’m relieved that he has taken to the kittens so well. I was worried that he would be upset with five more cats in the house.”

“He’s such a sweet boy,” Melba said. “Have you found out any more about who left those babies on the doorstep?”

“No, not yet. I haven’t really had much time, other than to make a few calls around the neighborhood. So far nobody knows anything about them. Or at least, that’s what they’re saying.”

“They’re probably better off with you, anyway,” Melba said. I had told her about the note I had found with the kittens. “Imagine someone wanting to drown those five darling little babies.” She shook her head. “That’s one mystery that maybe you shouldn’t solve.”

“Maybe not.” I had considered that option but hadn’t made a final decision yet.

“Speaking of mysteries, though,” Melba said, “I’ve been doing some calling around of my own since you first told me about that new neighbor of yours, Ms. So-Called Geraldine Albritton.”

From her tone, I figured Melba had not dug up anything yet.

“I managed to get a hold of Billy Albritton, and he says he doesn’t know any Geraldine Albritton. He couldn’t talk but a minute, though, so I didn’t get to ask him anything else.

“Then I talked to a couple more Albrittons I know, and not a single one of them has ever heard of a Geraldine in the family. And you know what that means?” Melba fixed me with a stern gaze. “It means that woman is an impostor. You’d better find out who she really is and what she’s up to before she causes any serious trouble.”

THREE

“I’d swear she told me she’s lived in Athena all her life.” I frowned. “Why would she lie about that?”

Melba shrugged. “Maybe she’s not lying about it. Maybe she did grow up here. I bet you what she’s lying about is her real name.”

“What can she be trying to hide? Jail time, for example?” I could come up with numerous lurid possibilities based on the thousands of mysteries I had read since childhood.

“Could be. What if she’s hiding from an ex-husband or a stalker?” Melba asked. “Maybe she’s really from somewhere else, and she came here under a new name to get away from an abusive man and just happened to pick Albritton.” She shrugged. “If you want to get real crazy, maybe she’s in some kind of witness protection program.”

“Hold on a minute,” I said. “Let’s not get too carried away and get the FBI involved. She could very well be hiding from someone, but if she is, then that’s her business.”

“Unless she’s running from the law.” Melba looked grim. “She could be wanted for the Lord knows what somewhere else, and here she is, trying to hide out in Athena to keep from going to prison. We don’t need a dangerous criminal right under our noses.”

I knew if I laughed I would hurt Melba’s feelings, but she was getting more and more off-the-wall with her speculation. After a cough to cover an inadvertent snicker, I said, “There could be some offshoot of the Albritton clan that people have forgotten about. Didn’t you tell me that it’s a big family?”

“Yes, it is. Old Mr. Albritton, the one who died last year at ninety-nine, had thirteen brothers and sisters, and they all married and had children, and those children have children, and so on, so you might be right.”