Софи Келли - A Tale Оf Two Kitties

The apartment door was pulled to, but not actually closed, I realized.

The hairs rose on the back of my neck. I tried to keep my expression neutral as I put a hand on Mia’s arm. “Wait here with Rebecca for a minute,” I said.

She leaned around me. “Why?”

“Stay here. Just for a minute.”

I shifted my gaze to Rebecca, who put her hands on Mia’s shoulders. “What’s wrong?” the teen asked, fear making her voice sharp and loud. “Do you think something happened to Grandpa? Is he sick?” She tried to move forward but Rebecca slipped one arm around her shoulders and held her in place.

It seemed to me I could actually hear my own heart hammering in my chest. “Let me find out,” I said.

Mia pressed her lips together and I saw the tears standing in her eyes. She nodded.

I moved over to the door. “Stay with Rebecca,” I said to Owen, who had stayed in front of the door the whole time like he was guarding it. Now he moved over to stand next to Rebecca and Mia.

I knocked on the door. “Leo,” I called. “It’s Kathleen Paulson.”

There was no answer.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Please don’t let this be bad , I prayed silently. Please let me find Mia’s grandfather listening to John Coltrane with his headphones on.

But it was bad.

Leo was lying on the floor. I made my way carefully across the room to the man. I bent down and felt for a pulse and confirmed what I already knew.

Leo Janes was dead.

chapter 4

I took a slow, shaky breath and then another one. Leo was lying partly on his side, partly on his back, his head turned to the right. I could see some kind of injury to the back of his head. A sculpture about a foot and a half high lay on the floor nearby, two twists of angular metal curved around a central copper disk. There was blood on the curved edge of metal on one side. The sculpture had to be what had caused that injury.

My stomach clenched. I looked away and took another deep breath. “Safe journey,” I whispered.

I stood up and looked around. Nothing seemed to be disturbed in the small apartment other than a photo that was lying on its side on a dark wooden table behind Leo Janes’s body, knocked over maybe when he was attacked. The black-and-white, smiling image of a young woman in its inexpensive plastic department-store frame seemed a little out of place next to the other photo on the table—a candid shot of Simon and Mia. That photo had been matted and framed in a sleek metal frame. I wondered who the woman in the old photo was, maybe someone from Leo’s past he’d been hoping to reconnect with while he was in town. I felt the prickle of tears but I blinked them away. Rebecca and Mia were waiting.

I stepped back into the hallway. Rebecca still had her arms around Mia. The teen’s eyes darted all around. “Where’s Grandpa?” she immediately asked. She tried to pull away but Rebecca kept her arms around the teen.

“Kathleen, where’s Grandpa?” Mia asked again in a shaky voice.

I took both of her hands in mine. No matter what I said, the words were going to be wrong. “I’m sorry,” I began. I stopped and swallowed a couple of times.

Mia had gone rigid, so pale that I was afraid she was going to pass out.

“Sweetie, he’s gone.”

“No.” Her voice was so quiet I almost missed the word. Mia shook her head, repeating “No” over and over as tears begin to slide down her face. She tried to take a step toward the apartment pulling against Rebecca’s grasp. I folded her into my arms and she slumped against me, trembling with silent sobs. Rebecca’s eyes met mine over the top of Mia’s head. She shook her own head and gently rubbed Mia’s back.

“My phone is in my pocket,” I said, poking the right side of my jacket with my elbow. Rebecca reached over, pulled out my cell and took a few steps away from us. Owen leaned against my leg. I laid my cheek against the top of Mia’s head and wished there was some way I could fix everything.

After a minute Rebecca walked back over to us. “The police are on the way,” she said. “And I hope you don’t mind, I called Marcus.”

“I’m glad you did,” I said. She slipped the phone back into my pocket.

“Take her upstairs, please,” I said.

Mia lifted her face. It was wet with tears and smudged makeup. “No,” she said vehemently. “I’m not going anywhere.” She fixed her gaze on me. “You can’t make me leave.”

I looked at Rebecca, who gave her head a little shake. I turned my attention back to Mia. “The police are coming. When they get here I’m going to need to talk to them. And it’s going to get really chaotic here. Please, go upstairs with Rebecca.”

“I won’t leave Grandpa by himself,” Mia said. I recognized the stubborn set of her jaw and the flash in her eyes. In that moment she reminded me so much of Simon. There was a lump in the back of my throat that I couldn’t seem to get rid of no matter how many times I tried to swallow it down. For a moment I was hit with the feeling that I couldn’t do this.

I imagined my mother, what she’d do and say if she were here, and then I steadied myself. I knew she would tell me to just put one foot in front of the other. “He won’t be alone. I’ll stay with him,” I said. I looked Mia in the eye. “I promise.”

I could hear the sirens getting closer. I wiped the tears from Mia’s face with my hand. “Go with Rebecca.”

Mia swallowed and pressed her lips together. Then she nodded. I handed her off to Rebecca. They headed for the stairs and Owen followed, looking back over his shoulder at me before making his way up the steps.

I knew Officer Keller, the responding police officer, from Marcus’s past cases. The army vet had the bearing of a former military man and an air of calm competence that was reassuring. I explained what had happened. “The door was open?” he asked.

“It had been pulled to but it wasn’t closed all the way,” I said.

He nodded. “Where are Mrs. Henderson and Mr. Janes’s granddaughter?”

“I sent them upstairs.” I hesitated. “I didn’t want Mia to see . . . everything that’s going to happen.”

He nodded again as if that made sense to him. Then he pulled on a pair of disposable gloves. “Please stay here, Ms. Paulson,” he said.

“All right,” I said. I took a couple of steps back and hugged myself against the damp cold that seemed to be sinking into my bones.

Behind me I heard something and turned to see Marcus in the doorway. “Kathleen,” he said, relief washing over his face. He gave me a quick hug and then pulled back to study me. “What’s happened?”

I gestured at the apartment door. “Leo Janes—Simon’s father—he’s, uh, dead.”

He frowned. “What are you doing here?”

I explained about Rebecca’s parcel and how I’d offered Mia a drive to see her grandfather. “Rebecca came down and let us in. I thought Leo would have heard us talking over there by the stairs. When he didn’t come out of his apartment I just had the feeling that there was something hinky going on.”

Frown lines furrowed his forehead. “How did you get into the apartment? Did Mia have a key?”

“No. The door was open just a crack. I went in because I knew then that . . .” I didn’t need to finish the sentence.

“Are you all right?” he said.

I pulled a hand over the back of my neck. “No, but I’ll manage.”

Officer Keller came to the door then. “Detective,” he said.

I put a hand on Marcus’s arm. He held up a finger to the officer and turned back to me. “Is it all right if I call Simon?” I asked. “Mia needs him. And if he has to hear this over the phone it should at least be from a friend.”