Блейз Клемент - The Cat Sitter And The Canary

He leaned in and kissed my forehead, gently, and then he kissed my ears, and then my throat, and then he worked his way slowly around my neck and across my shoulders, all the while kneading the knots and kinks out of my back with his strong hands. The steam rose around us in little swirling clouds, filling the shower in a veil of white so thick that eventually, had anyone else been watching, they wouldn’t have been able to see a single thing.

30

It had taken a lot of persuasion on my part to convince Ethan he didn’t need to spend the night, especially after I’d told him about Elba Kramer. But to be honest, I wanted some time alone—some time to just sit and think about nothing. No more intrigue, no more notes, no more Elba Kramer, and no more murder. Plus, there were a lot of other things I didn’t want to think about—namely, Jean Pierre Guidry, his wedding, or where he and Monistat were headed for their honeymoon …

I had a lot of not thinking to do.

After he left, I pulled on a pair of fleecy sweatpants, some house slippers, and a soft cotton T-shirt, and then I popped open an ice-cold Corona and headed for the hammock. On the way through the living room, I stopped to check in on Jane. I still hadn’t decided if I should keep her or not, but then again I wasn’t sure I had a choice. Detective Carthage had told me Elba Kramer hadn’t said a word as he led her from the pool house to his car, but once inside, handcuffed and buckled in, she’d made him promise to give me a message:

Take good care of Jane.

I had draped a beach towel over her cage to help her get used to her new surroundings, and when I peeked inside, she was nestled in the far left corner, sound asleep with her beak tucked into her breast feathers.

I felt a little flutter in the center of my chest.

I’d planned on maintaining a purely business relationship with Jane. Of course, I’d do exactly as Elba Kramer had requested—find her a good home, make sure she was well cared for, etcetera—but nothing more. I wanted as few reminders as possible of everything that had happened. Only now, seeing Jane all snuggled up and content, I felt like the Grinch who stole Christmas … my heart was getting just a little bit bigger.

Outside, the stars were twinkling like tiny beacons in the night sky, and the waves rolling in on the beach below were sending hushed whispers through the trees. I lit one of the citronella candles we keep at the top of the steps and put it on the ice cream table by the door … and then my jaw dropped wide open.

Todd’s old cell phone was there, right smack dab in the middle of the table with a folded note tucked underneath. I stared at it for a good ten seconds or so while all the possible explanations for how it could have gotten there ricocheted around my brain like shrapnel. Try as I might, I couldn’t come up with anything good—especially given that the notes I’d received so far that week hadn’t exactly been full of cheer. For a second or two, I even considered pretending I’d never seen it, but, as always, curiosity got the best of me. I slid the note out and unfolded it …

Hey Sis,

Paco and I got home late tonight and decided to go for a walk. You’ll never believe what we found! Remember that old boat we used to play with? It was washed up on the beach right in front of the house … I guess now we know why you weren’t answering your phone.

Love,

Michael

ps—Paco says “GPS—good thinking.”

I picked up the phone and smiled as I turned it over in my hand a couple of times. Except for a couple of scratches and a few grains of sand stuck in the crevices, it seemed to have survived its ocean journey intact. Right at that very moment, as if on cue, it rang.

Without even looking, I knew it was Ethan. He’d said he’d call when he got home to make sure I hadn’t changed my mind and wanted him to come back. I answered the way I imagined Billie Holiday might, puckering my lips and drawing my voice out in a velvety, high-pitched wail.

“Helloooooo…”

There was a short pause.

“Dixie, this is Samantha … Detective McKenzie, I mean.”

“Oh my gosh! Detective McKenzie! I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“Well, I’m sorry it’s so late. Are you … drunk?”

I laughed out loud. “No! No, of course not! Well, I’m having a beer, but that’s all. I swear. I was just trying to sound like Billie Holiday.”

“Billie Holiday?”

“Yeah.” I ducked back inside, closing the door behind me. I didn’t want to make too much noise in case Michael and Paco were asleep. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, again, I’m sorry it’s so late.”

There was something in her voice that caught me off guard. For one, it was unlike Detective McKenzie to apologize for anything, especially something so trivial as a late-night phone call.

I said, “Oh, it’s totally fine. I knew I’d hear from you at some point. I’m guessing Detective Carthage told you all about Elba Kramer.”

“Yes … that’s why I’m calling.”

“Okay…”

It suddenly dawned on me that what I was hearing in her voice was sadness. A terrible thought flashed through my mind: Elba Kramer would never have allowed herself to be locked up in a jail cell like a caged animal. She was too wild for prison, too headstrong and rash, too … unstable .

I said, “Oh, no. What has she done?”

She sighed. “It’s more about what she hasn’t done. I know you’re under the impression Ms. Kramer helped orchestrate the murder of those two other women, and I agree all the evidence does seem to point to that very conclusion.”

I breathed a sigh of relief that Elba hadn’t tried to hurt herself. “Wait,” I said. “I know what you’re going to say.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. You’re going to say she denies knowing anything about it, but you have to trust me. She can be very convincing, and I think she’s just afraid to admit she was not only involved in the murder of her husband, but those women too. And I have a pretty good feeling if you search her shop, you’ll find some hat pins—the same hat pins tipped with black pearls that were found on Edith Reed and Sara Potts.”

She took a deep breath. “Dixie, we’ve made an arrest in the murder of Elba’s husband.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know. They caught him hiding in my car.”

“No, I’m afraid not. The man who murdered Albert Greco was a hired assassin from Baltimore. We found him in a hospital emergency room about an hour from here, just outside Tampa.”

I frowned. “Then, who … Wait, I don’t understand.”

“Dixie, when you were meeting with Ms. Kramer the day Albert Greco was gunned down, Deputy Morgan was stationed in his car outside. As soon as he heard that gunfire, he ran up to the front gate and saw a man with an automatic rifle escaping around the side of the house. Morgan immediately opened fire, but until this morning we didn’t know if he hit him or not. The man we arrested outside Tampa had a bullet lodged in his right hip.”

I was shaking my head. “That doesn’t mean anything. How do you know…?”

She interrupted. “Because we found an automatic rifle with a high-tech silencer in the trunk of the man’s car, along with a file containing photos of Albert Greco, Elba Kramer’s cell phone number, and a detailed blueprint of their home.”

“So … there were two assassins looking for Albert Greco?”

“No. What I’m saying is that the man who murdered Edith Reed and Sara Potts had nothing to do with the assassination of Albert Greco.”

I could feel my heart starting to race. I said, “No. That’s impossible, because … because if that’s true, it means somebody actually was trying to kill me.”