Лори Касс - Tailing A Tabby

I got up from the dining table, opened the door, and went outside.

“Thank you.” Cade was standing on the marina dock, leaning on his cane with his good hand, resting his weak side. “When Heather asked me how long my friend Minnie had stayed, I didn’t understand what she was talking about.”

I crossed my arms. With the sun long gone, the air had turned chilly.

Cade shifted his grip on the cane. “I said I hadn’t seen you in a few days and she was extremely puzzled, said the two of you had had a nice chat just this evening. ‘A chat about what?’ I asked. Her face turned a lovely shade of scarlet, so I knew I’d been the topic.” His mouth twisted up in a sardonic smile. “And there’s only one thing she could have said that would make you turn away from me.”

I looked straight at him. Opened my mouth. Shut it again, because I didn’t know what to say. This man was not a killer. How could he be? The doctor said he lacked the strength to kill Carissa. Then again, if Cade had convinced Heather to lie for him…

He shifted again. “I did not ask her to lie for me.”

If he could convince Heather to lie, would that make him an expert liar himself? It seemed to follow, but my experience with consummate liars was limited to a college freshman roommate. And a former boyfriend, but I’d vowed never to think about him again.

“I can see you don’t believe me.” Sighing, Cade leaned against one of the dock pilings. “I’m going to describe exactly what happened that night. When I’m done, you can make your decision.”

I nodded for him to go ahead.

“That night was clear, if you’ll remember. I’d gone to bed about nine, just before sunset, but I couldn’t get to sleep and got up just before eleven to watch the moon as it dropped into the tree line. The way that new moon was looking at me, it felt as if it was trying to tell me something, and I thought maybe a series, each showing a slightly different moon phase from a different location. Blacks and purples and deep blues with an underlying tone of…” He wandered off inside his head but came back after a minute.

“That’s when I went out,” he said. “You’ve seen the courtyard just outside my room. There’s an access door just down the hall. I went outside, sat on a highly uncomfortable bench, and planned a series of paintings.”

Even in the dim light cast by the marina’s lights, it was easy to detect his wry expression as he looked at his weak hand. I mentally edited his sentence and ended it with “And planned a series of paintings I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to complete.”

“So Heather did see you at the time of the murder,” I said.

“Yes.” He shifted again. “I wasn’t in bed, that’s all.”

“So…” I didn’t understand. “Why did she lie about any of it? What difference does it make if you were in bed or in the courtyard?”

Cade’s face quirked up in an uneven smile. “You, obviously, have not spent much time in these types of facilities. Heather had looked into my room, noted that I was outside, and charted on the computer that I was in bed, sleeping. If it had come out that she’d falsified data, she would have been in serious trouble.”

I still didn’t understand, and said so. “But why did she chart that you were in bed? Why didn’t she say where you were?”

He sighed. “Because she’d given me the access code to unlock the courtyard door the day before. She shouldn’t have, but she did because I’d asked.”

Now, finally, I understood. She’d done him a favor, knowing she was flouting the rules, and if she was found out, she’d be… well, who knew what. Reprimanded? Suspended? Fired? None of it was good.

“You believe me?” Cade asked.

I wanted to say yes, and almost did, but held back. “I’ll have to check with Heather.”

He glanced at his watch. “I assumed as much. In three minutes she’ll be on break and will be able to take a phone call.”

I went in to fetch my cell phone. When I came back out, I saw him straighten up smartly. “Oh, come inside,” I said irritably. “Now, what’s her phone number?”

Five minutes later, I’d been reassured by Heather’s explanation, which was basically the same as Cade’s, only told from the opposite point of view. Thirty seconds after that, I was heating water to brew some warming tea for the both of us.

“Hello there, young fellow.”

I turned and saw Cade sitting down to the dining table and stroking Eddie’s fur. “Oh, uh…” I abandoned the tea preparations and zoomed forward to scurry the papers out of Cade’s view. “Let me get those out of your way.” As I piled them tidily, the microwave dinged. “Tea time,” I said brightly, and made two small strides to the cupboard. “Two mugs and then—”

“Mrrorrww!”

I whipped around and saw Eddie sliding down the pile of papers, sending himself and the papers onto the floor. “Oh, Eddie…”

“Not to worry.” Cade leaned down to pick up the sheets, piece after piece of paper upon which I’d scribbled ideas for getting Carissa’s killer to reveal himself. I’d started with the idea of putting some sort of ad in the local paper and moved up to my last idea of spreading the word that I’d found proof of the killer’s identity. That last idea was the one Cade held in his hand.

Frowning, he looked up at me. “Is this what I think it is?”

I reached to yank the papers away from him, but he held them out of my reach. “You’re setting a trap for the killer, aren’t you?” he asked.

My own frown was just as fierce as his. “None of your business.”

“I beg to disagree,” he said. “It’s because of me that you got involved in this business at all. And this?” He waved the papers. “This is far beyond the pale of what you should be doing.”

“It’s a little late for that,” I said, and then I realized I hadn’t told Cade about the note in the candy jar. After I did, he immediately started going all fatherlike on me, saying that he was forbidding me to put myself in any more danger. I ignored him and he eventually got tired of talking. “So,” I said, “all we need to do is identify the killer,” I said. “If he shows up, I’ll take a picture, show it to the police, and let them take it from there.”

But Cade was shaking his head. “It’s too dangerous. This man has killed once; what will stop him from doing it again?”

I wanted to stamp my foot. Didn’t, but wanted to. Badly. “I’ll be hiding. He won’t even know I’m there.”

“It’s still…” A curious expression crossed Cade’s face. “You know, if it’s a trap you’re setting, what you need is some good bait, and better bait would be best.” Cade’s eyebrows rose. “Yes?”

Now he was doing B words. “Not playing,” I said. “And what are you talking about?”

“What if,” he asked quietly, “your bait included the person the killer had tried to frame for murder?”

Chapter 18

At sunset the next evening, Cade settled into one of my chaise longues. I took my cell and the binoculars I’d borrowed from Rafe and found a comfortable spot under a corner of a large, leafy shrub next to the marina office.

The night before, we’d put a Facebook post on Cade’s page, saying that he was going to be doing some recuperating alone on a friend’s houseboat. We knew that the killer had probably looked at Cade’s Facebook page before, so we were hoping he’d do it again. And since the killer knew I drove the bookmobile, it was likely that he also knew where I lived.

This creeped me out in a big way, but I tried not to let it show as we sketched out the right words to use. Finally we clicked POST and off it went.

Now I sat cross-legged on a swim towel and checked the batteries on my phone. Powered up and ready for a night of surveillance. “We’re on,” I whispered, and made myself as comfortable as possible while sitting on the ground half under a shrubbery.