Софи Келли - A Tale Оf Two Kitties

Harry held up one hand. “I’m here,” he said.

“And I can certainly hear you and see you,” his father said.

Mariah had stashed all of her things in a camouflage messenger bag. Now she threw her arms around her grandfather. “Thanks, Pops,” she said.

He kissed the top of her head. “You’re welcome, my girl.”

I took his arm and we headed for the door. The girls were already outside looking for the Big Dipper in the clear night sky.

“Take good care of that child, Kathleen,” Harrison said quietly to me. “She’s been through more than a child her age should have to face.”

“I will. I promise,” I said.

“And come out and see me when you can sit for a bit.”

“I promise I’ll do that as well,” I said. I stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

“Lock up after us,” Harry said to his father. “And remember you have that appointment at the dentist tomorrow.”

“Not likely you’d let me forget,” the old man grumbled.

I raised a hand in good-bye and he closed the door. Harry listened for the snap of the dead bolt before he moved.

I touched his arm. “Have a good night,” I said.

He nodded. “You too, Kathleen. And Dad’s right. Come out when you can stay awhile.”

“I will,” I said.

Mariah had started for the house and Mia was standing waiting for me on the gravel.

We headed for the truck. Hercules was looking out the driver’s-side window.

“That’s not Owen,” Mia said. “Is it Hercules?”

“Yes, it is,” I said. “He called shotgun.” I unlocked the passenger door for her and walked around the truck to the driver’s side.

“Hey, Hercules,” Mia said. “Thank you for coming to get me.”

Always modest, the cat ducked his head and meowed softly.

“He’s so handsome. He looks like he’s wearing a tuxedo.”

Herc murped at her and moved a bit closer. He liked to be complimented on how he looked.

I fastened my seat belt, started the truck and headed down the long driveway as Mia kept talking to Hercules. Once we were on the road I saw her look in my direction.

“So what happened at my father’s office?” she said.

“What did he tell you?”

“He just said something happened. Did someone break in?”

“They tried. They didn’t succeed.”

She sighed. “I bet Dad’s piss— Mad,” she said.

I flipped my turn signal on. “I don’t blame him,” I said. “When someone spray painted graffiti on the loading-bay door at the library back in the spring all I could think of was finding whoever had done it and standing over them while they scrubbed off every speck of paint. I know it wasn’t personal but it felt that way. Your father probably feels the same.”

“Do you think it was someone looking for something to steal who killed my grandfather?” Mia asked.

I didn’t, but I also didn’t want to say that to her. “Maybe,” I said. “The police look at every possibility.”

“They’re looking at my father.”

“Yes,” I said. “I would be irresponsible not to. If they don’t and someone else is arrested the first thing that person’s lawyer will do is point out that your father wasn’t investigated.”

“Mrr,” Hercules said.

“See? He agrees with me.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw her smile.

“I know,” she said. “When people are killed more than half the time it’s by someone they know and about a quarter of the time it’s someone in their family.”

I shot her a quick glance. How on earth did she know that?

“I was on the FBI website,” she said by way of explanation.

“There’s something wrong with Snapchat?” I said.

Mia laughed. “No, I just like knowing things.”

“I get that,” I said. “I like knowing things, too.”

“But I should have fun while I’m young,” she finished.

I looked sideways again and smiled. “You’re stealing my best speeches,” I said.

We drove in silence for a minute or so. Then Mia said, “Do you miss your family?”

I nodded. “Very much. But my mother has been going back and forth to Los Angeles and my brother is on the road with his band, so even if I were in Boston it doesn’t mean I’d see them that much.”

Mia reached into her pocket and then extended her hand. I shot a quick look in her direction. A small, brown acorn sat in the middle of her palm. “My grandfather said acorns were good luck,” she said. “I’ve been carrying it around since the funeral. How crazy is that?”

“I grew up around theater people,” I said. “I know all about charms for good luck.” I remembered sitting in the middle of my parents’ bed in their place in Boston as my mother went through her closet in what I knew would be a futile effort to cull some things from the space. My father’s clothes lived in the closet in their office.

“What about this?” Dad had asked, holding up a black woolen winter coat with a gray faux-fur collar and wide bands of faux-fur trim on the sleeves. My mother had taken the coat from his hands. “Not that. That style is coming back. I might wear it this winter.”

I’d pressed my lips together to keep a smile from getting loose as my dad gave a sigh of exasperation. “Okay, then what about this?” He held up a long, silky dress. It was a pale sage green with an empire waist and a pleated cape collar.

Mom shook her head and reached for a pair of black leather pants. “I can’t get rid of that. That’s my lucky dress.”

Dad swiped a hand over his mouth. “There’s no such thing as a lucky dress,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow and gave him what I thought of as her Mona Lisa smile. “You got lucky the first time I wore that dress,” she said.

He pulled her to him with one arm, tipped her back into a sweeping dip and kissed her. I fell over sideways on the bed and pulled a pillow over my head in embarrassment. I could still hear them laughing.

I smiled at the memory and glanced in Mia’s direction again. “When I left Boston my mom gave me a sixpence for good luck. It’s English money.”

Mia nodded.

“I still carry it in my wallet. Mayville Heights may be home now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t miss my family back in Boston.”

“Sometimes I think I miss my mother,” Mia said, her voice thoughtful. “I didn’t get to know her so I think what I really miss is the idea of her.”

“I get that,” I said. “I’ve felt the same way about grandparents. Mine died before I was born, so I wasn’t missing them, I was missing the idea of grandparents. Sometimes I still feel that way.”

“My dad and my mother were just teenagers when they had me,” Mia continued. She was twisting one end of her long scarf in her hands. “She died right after I was born and her mom and dad—my other grandparents—tried to take me away from my dad. They said he wouldn’t be able to take care of me. It all went to court and the judge let me stay with Dad. He told me that my grandfather never tried to talk him out of raising me. Grandpa and my dad fought about stuff because they’re both stubborn people.”

I noticed she referred to Leo in the present tense.

“But he would never have hurt Grandpa, because he loves me.”

I exhaled slowly. “I know that,” I said. “Give the police a little time and they’ll figure it out, too.”

I hoped I was right.

chapter 9

Simon was waiting for us in the entrance of the brick building that housed his office and several others. He was wearing a brown leather jacket over jeans and a rust-colored sweater. He smiled when he caught sight of Mia. She went right over to him and gave him a hug. “Kathleen said someone tried to rob you but they didn’t get into the office.”