Лори Касс - Tailing A Tabby

“How can something so bad for you taste so good?” I asked Eddie as I refilled his water bowl.

He ignored both me and my water offering. He’d been standoffish ever since the bookmobile lunch where I’d abandoned him. “Hey, I said I was sorry. But fried food is even worse for cats than it is for humans. How about a treat?” I opened an upper kitchen cabinet, took out the small canister of cat treats, and shook it to rattle the contents enticingly.

Eddie’s ears twitched, but he didn’t move. He still didn’t move when I opened the can and rolled small treat bits onto the floor.

“Wow, you really are mad, aren’t you?” I hunched down to pet him. “Hope you get over it soon. I love you—you know that, right?”

He looked away and kept looking away as I walked out the door. As soon as it shut behind me, however, he spun and launched himself on top of the treats. I couldn’t decide whether to pull out my hair or to laugh, but since my tummy was still feeling heavy with fried food, I opted for neither and walked away, shaking my head. Maybe Eddie wasn’t the strangest cat in the universe, but he had to have a good shot at being the strangest cat in the world.

Or maybe he was a new breed of cat. If breeders could come up with a new cat variety, why couldn’t nature? Maybe Eddie was the start of a new species. I tried to remember high school biology class and how scientific nomenclature worked. Kings Play Chess On Friday Golf Saturday. Kingdom Phylum Class Order Family Genus Species. Felis was the cat genus. Felis domesticus, the genus and species for domesticated cats. “Felis Eddicus,” I said, then laughed.

Smiling, I looked around. And saw that passersby were moving away from me, pulling their children out of my path. Oh, dear. The laughing cat lady, that’s what I was turning into. “Mrs. Eddie,” I murmured, sputtering out another laugh. Eddie would like that one. I’d have to—

My humor came to an abrupt end. Detective Inwood was walking toward me. He was deep in conversation with a uniformed officer who looked familiar… I snapped my fingers. Wolverson. He was with Deputy Wolverson. And I didn’t want to talk to either one of them, not right now.

I dodged sideways into the nearest storefront and quietly shut the door, keeping my gaze on the street. As soon as they walked past, I’d—

“Oooo, it’s beautiful!”

I started at the familiar female voice and looked around. Saw the brightly lit glass cases. Felt the thick carpet under my feet. Heard the soft music.

A jewelry store. Of all the stores in downtown Chilson, I’d ended up in the one in which I had the least interest. Not that there was anything wrong with jewelry stores; I just didn’t have the means to purchase anything in one. Besides, pretty much everything in here would just turn into a really expensive cat toy.

“Oh, Quincy!”

I edged farther in, far enough to see around the large display case in the middle of the room. There, throwing her slim arms around Quincy’s flushed neck, was Deena, her face wreathed in smiles.

“You like it?” he asked.

“I can’t imagine a better engagement ring,” she said.

Up until that point, I’d been harboring a teensy-weensy hope that Quincy had bought the ring for someone else, say Paulette, and was only showing it to Deena. The kiss that Deena and Quincy were now sharing, however, with the jeweler beaming in the background, smushed that hope into flat dust. Reality was in front of me, and it was time to get used to it.

I stepped out of my hiding place. “Hey, you two. Congratulations!” After a flurry of hugs and well-wishes, I left the store to face another reality.

There was no detective or deputy in sight, so I walked rapidly in the direction I’d seen them heading. Halfway down the next block, I saw them coming out of an antique store and hurried to catch up.

“Detective Inwood,” I called. “Deputy Wolverson. Do you have a minute?”

We adjourned to what the city was calling a pocket park, a narrow passageway between two buildings that had been landscaped with plants and brick pavers. We sat down on benches that faced each other. At least the police officers sat on theirs; I perched on the edge of mine as words spilled out of me.

I told them about the candy jar note. I told them that the bookmobile’s door had been left unlocked at the art fair and how that was probably when the note had been left. I told them what I knew about Hugo Edel and Trock Farrand and Greg Plassey. The detective nodded all through this while the deputy took notes. I even mentioned what looked like a post from the killer on Cade’s Facebook page and was reassured when they told me their forensic computer analyst was working on tracking back the poster’s IP address. But when I told them that an old boyfriend of Carissa’s had been following her around, Inwood’s face twitched.

“You seem to have been following in our footsteps, Ms. Hamilton. If you’d talked to us, you would have known we’ve already made most of these inquiries. But please let us know if you learn more about the ex-boyfriend.”

That didn’t make sense. “But you’ve already talked to him. It’s Randall Moffit.”

Deputy Wolverson started to say something but stopped and looked at Inwood. When he nodded, the deputy went on. “He has a solid alibi for the time of the murder.”

“Sure, but he could have hired someone else to do that.” How, I didn’t know, but if he had buddies that would paint their bodies in Tigers blue, maybe he had a friend good enough to commit murder for him. “Moffit must have been the one who was following her around to Crown and Trock’s TV set. Did you check his alibi for those days?”

The detective sighed, so I knew they hadn’t. “And what about the phone call that lured Cade to Carissa’s house?” I persisted. “Did you ever check up on that?”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Hamilton,” he said, “but we’ve found no proof it was ever made.”

My mouth went dry. “But maybe it was a landline call. A local one. That doesn’t mean it was never made. You can’t prove a negative.” I could see I was losing the detective’s interest and started talking faster. “But local calls do show up somewhere. I mean, they must, right? Every call is routed through computers, and computers keep track of everything. It’s just a matter of getting the data.”

Inwood stood. “Thanks for your input, Ms. Hamilton. And please drop that note off at the sheriff’s office tomorrow morning. Have a good night.”

He walked off, the deputy followed, and I was left alone with nothing but my own frightened thoughts to keep me company.

Chapter 17

I pushed away my fears for Cade. There had to be something I could do. I had to find something that the police had missed. Only… how? I sat on the quiet bench, thinking hard, watching people walk past and cars drive by.

Cars. I smiled. Got it.

I pulled my cell out of my purse to check the time. If high-end car dealerships kept hours similar to downtown merchants, I had almost half an hour until closing.

Bright lights shone out the windows of Talcott Motors. Half a dozen people wandered about inside the showroom, some obviously potential customers, others just as obviously salespeople. And, through an open doorway, I spotted Jari.

Perfect. I unbuckled my seat belt and was half out of the car, half not, when a Ring! Ring! sounded at my left ear.

“Hello, Minnie, dear!” It was Zofia on the rear seat of a bicycle built for two. In the front was a white-haired man who looked vaguely familiar.

Zofia waved gaily, the jewels on her ringed hand flashing in the setting sun. “How nice to see you. Do you know Claude? He has a summer home across the street from your aunt. Claude, this is Minnie, the young lady who drives the bookmobile.”