Софи Келли - A Tale Оf Two Kitties

I had no idea what he was talking about.

“I don’t like to speak ill of people, but Celia is not someone who should be trusted.”

I knew that Oren never spoke ill of anyone, so I knew I could trust what he was saying even as I was surprised by the comment. “How do you know this?” I asked.

He had taken off his cap when he’d stepped inside the building and now he twisted the brim in his hands. “Ira and Celia went out when they were young. Celia broke up with him to go after Leo Janes, who had a lot more money.”

“I didn’t know that,” I said.

“I don’t think a lot of people do,” Oren replied. “It didn’t work. Leo was interested in Simon’s mother, and Celia didn’t get anywhere with him. She went after his brother, Victor, next but that didn’t work out, either.” Oren cleared his throat. “You’re friends with Simon, so maybe you could tell him he shouldn’t trust Celia. Before Leo Janes’s marriage broke up Ira insisted that Celia was telling Victor things about Meredith. Private things.”

I remembered Meredith Janes’s letter: He seemed to know what I was thinking in a way Leo didn’t , she had written. Could that have been because Celia Hunter had been feeding Victor information?

Oren’s expression was serious. “Kathleen, sometimes the things Ira says are just things he’s imagined, but sometimes, sometimes they aren’t.”

I thanked Oren for coming to talk to me, and he left. In the last two hours I’d learned that Elias Braeden had seen Leo the day before he died and Celia Hunter may not have been the friend to Leo’s ex-wife that she’d seemed. The problem was I had no idea how any of that could help me figure out who had killed Leo.

chapter 13

I couldn’t get what Oren had told me about Celia Hunter out of my mind. Was his cousin Ira right? Had Celia conspired with Victor Janes to end his brother’s marriage so she could have Leo for herself? The whole thing reminded me of a gothic romance. All we needed was a lonely mansion and a dark and stormy night. I had no idea how this new piece of information fit into the puzzle. Based on the letter from Meredith it seemed as though she hadn’t known about her best friend plotting to break up her marriage. Had Leo known? And did it have anything to do with his death?

I took the later supper break. I carried my bowl of vegetable soup back to my office instead of eating in the staff room. My mind was going in circles. I had all these pieces of information and no way to tie them all together or tie them to Leo’s killer.

I wished I knew a little more about blackjack. I’d played poker before, but all I knew about blackjack was the basic rules. On the other hand, I did know someone who knew a lot more about casinos and gambling than I did. My mother. My mother was primarily a stage actor, but she did take on small film and TV roles if the part captured her fancy.

For the past month Mom and Dad had been in Los Angles. They’d originally only planned to stay for two weeks while my mother did a brief guest stint on The Wild and Wonderful . She was incredibly popular with fans of the racy soap opera, who had been lobbying for a return performance since her last visit. On her second day on the set her visit had been extended by an additional three weeks.

Several years ago, Mom had had a small role in a movie set in a casino in Las Vegas. She’d flirted shamelessly—on camera—with Denzel Washington. The two of them had a chemistry that surprised everyone, except Dad and me. My mother had chemistry with everyone she worked with.

I checked the time. Los Angeles was two hours behind Mayville Heights. If I was lucky Mom was back from the set. If she wasn’t I could try her when I got home. It was Dad who answered. “Hi, sweetie,” he said. “It’s wonderful to hear your voice.”

“It’s good to hear yours, too,” I said. “How’s Los Angeles?”

“Busy. They’re using your mother as much as they can, because we’ll be leaving in another week. And everywhere we go someone recognizes her. Not to mention men half my age are putting the moves on her right in front of me.”

“He’s exaggerating,” I heard Mom call in the background.

I laughed. It didn’t matter how many men tried to charm my mother. She only had eyes for my father. She told me once that being divorced from Dad showed her that she didn’t need a man she could live with. She needed a man she couldn’t live without.

“May I talk to her, please?” I said.

“Of course,” he said. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, Dad.” I leaned back in my chair and my mother’s voice came through the phone, just as full of warmth as if she’d been in the room with me.

“Hello, Katydid,” she said. “How are you?”

The sound of my mom’s voice always made me smile. She could be dramatic and aggravating and she’d never been the make-cookies or take-me-to-girl-scouts kind of parent, which I’d longed for at times growing up. But she loved me and Sara and Ethan with the ferocity of a mama grizzly bear and I knew no matter what any of us did in life, she always had our backs. “I’m fine,” I said.

“And how are Owen and Hercules?”

“They’re both all right now, but Owen did have a bit of an altercation with a stray dog last week.”

“Is Owen all right?” she asked, and I could hear the concern in her voice. Mom and the cats had bonded the first time she came for a visit.

“He had to have stitches and wear a fabric cone for a few days, but he had Marcus feeding him things he probably shouldn’t have had and me carrying him everywhere, so he survived. And for the record, according to Roma the dog looked worse.”

Mom laughed. “That’s probably the last cat he’ll tangle with,” she said. “And how’s Marcus?” There was a teasing edge to her voice that made me blush even though she couldn’t see me.

“Perfect as always,” I said.

“You’re happy.” It wasn’t a question.

“We are.” I pictured her probably curled up in a big chair, elbow on the armrest and her head propped on her hand, and a wave of homesickness rolled over me.

“I have a feeling you didn’t call just to tell me how terrific Marcus is,” she said. “So what’s up?”

“I’m hoping you can teach me about playing blackjack.”

“Are you planning a career change you haven’t told me about?”

I laughed and propped my feet on the edge of my desk. “No. Do you remember me telling you about Mia Janes, who works for me at the library, and her dad?”

“Simon,” Mom said. “The developer.”

“Yes.”

“This has something to do with his father’s death, doesn’t it?” My mother read the Mayville Heights Chronicle every morning online. I should have guessed she’d make the connection.

“Leo—Simon’s father—played blackjack. He was pretty good.” The brownie I’d brought for dessert was still sitting on top of my desk next to a half-warm cup of coffee. I broke off a piece and popped it into my mouth.

“Did it get him killed?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “All I can tell you is that he won around a million dollars at one particular casino and no one seems to know for sure exactly how he did it.”

“I’m surprised he wasn’t banned from the tables.”

“He was. And not just at that casino.”

“How much do you know about the game?” Mom asked.

“I understand the rules,” I said. “Players compete against the dealer but not against each other. The object of the game is to beat the dealer, by getting twenty-one points with your first two cards, say with an ace and a queen, or having your final score be more than the dealer’s without going over twenty-one, or by the dealer going bust.” I had another bite of my brownie.