Софи Райан: The Whole Cat Аnd Caboodle

“It’s better than what I have,” I said. I filled them in on what Liz and I had learned.

“So, if Jim Grant didn’t kill Arthur, who did?” Rose asked, brushing bits of paper off the front of her apron.

“It had to be one of his other wives or someone from their families,” Charlotte said.

“So how do we figure out who?” Liz asked.

I raked both hands through my hair. “For now I guess we just get Mr. P. to keep on digging.”

I headed up to my office to check my messages. After about ten minutes there was a knock on my door.

“Come in,” I called.

It was Mac. “Rose brought soup back with her. I heated some up for you.”

“Thanks,” I said, moving around the desk to take the oversize mug he’d brought me.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Sarah,” he said. “You’ll figure something out. Or maybe the police will.”

“I encouraged them,” I said, leaning back against the desk. “I got involved in their ‘investigation’ and then I let them down.”

“No, you didn’t,” he said. Elvis had wandered in behind him and the cat meowed loudly as if in agreement. “See?” Mac said. “He agrees with me.’

I laughed and stirred the soup with my spoon. “You two aren’t exactly unbiased.”

“And neither are you,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “Nobody else would have taken those three seriously. Nobody else would have driven all over town, trying to prove Maddie Hamilton didn’t kill Arthur Fenety.” He smiled. “They love you. They’re not disappointed.”

Right on cue Elvis meowed again. “Thanks, Mac,” I said. I looked down at the cat. “You too.”

I ate the soup Mac had brought me and then I returned some phone calls while Elvis sat in the middle of my desk, washing his face. When I finished I leaned back in my chair.

“I wish we knew a little more about Arthur’s past,” I said to the cat.

He climbed down onto my lap, walked his front paws up my chest and rubbed his face against the side of mine. I reached up to scratch behind his ear and he laid his head against my shoulder.

“I’d like to talk to Daisy again,” I said. “She’s the best source of information we have. She’s the only one we have.”

He murped in agreement. At least that’s what I decided the sound meant.

I gave him one last scratch, set him on the floor and stood up. “So, what am I going to use for an excuse to talk to the woman again?”

Elvis walked across the small space to a stack of boxes packed with an eight-piece set of china that was going to auction in a week. He scrapped at the bottom box with one paw and then looked at me.

China. Daisy Fenety was looking for pieces of that daisy-patterned china. If I could find a piece or two I felt certain she’d come to the shop to see it.

“You’re a genius,” I said. Elvis straightened up and swiped a paw across his face, almost as though he were saying, “Of course I am.”

I went downstairs and out onto the sunporch. Mr. P. was on his laptop, eyes glued to the screen, fingers flying over the keys. Rose was in a chair beside him.

“Mr. P., do you have a moment to look for something for me?” I asked.

“Certainly I do,” he said. “What is it?”

“I’m looking for a piece of china. The pattern is called Daisy May.”

“Isn’t that the china Arthur’s sister collects?” Rose asked.

I nodded. “I want to talk to her again, and I don’t think she’s going to want to help us prove Maddie’s innocence. She thinks Maddie is guilty. I thought if I had a piece of the china maybe I could get her into the shop.”

“It’s a little old-fashioned, you know,” Rose said.

“You’ve seen the china?” I said.

“Heavens, yes,” she said. “My next-door neighbor has a china cabinet full of it. And she never uses it.”

The lightbulb went on for both of us at the same time.

“Do you think she’d loan you a couple of pieces?” I asked.

“The woman has a wicked sweet tooth,” she said. “For a cake she’d probably loan me a kidney.”

“A cup and saucer or a gravy boat will be just fine,” I said. “Tell me what you want from the grocery store and I’ll get it. Butter, chocolate, baking . . . stuff. Give me a list.”

Rose reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I have all the baking stuff I need. I think I’ll make my devil’s food cake with whipped chocolate frosting. Don’t worry. I’ll have a cup and saucer or a gravy boat for Monday morning.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Maybe I can find out something from Daisy that will at least point us in the right direction.”

“Alfred is looking into all of Arthur’s wives that we know about,” Rose said. “I’m not giving up, Sarah.”

“Neither am I,” I said.

She held up her hand, palm facing out, and I realized she wanted to high-five me. So I did. I figured why not? Maybe it would bring me some good luck. We could use it.

It was a busy day. The fall foliage was at its peak and we had tourists in and out all day. By five o’clock my feet hurt, but I remembered to stop at the grocery store. I carried two canvas shopping bags into the house, trailed by Elvis.

“We have coffee, bacon, chocolate and Fancy Feast,” I told the cat, who had waited patiently in the back of the SUV while I shopped. “I think that covers the major food groups: sugar, salt, fat, caffeine and cat.”

He licked his whiskers and then went over and sat beside his bowl.

“You’re not exactly subtle, you know,” I said. I put the groceries away, fed Elvis and made myself a scrambled egg and tomato sandwich. I jazzed it up a little with a dill pickle and some black olives. It was a nice night, so I took my supper out on the small verandah. I sat in my favorite wicker chair and put my feet up on the railing. Elvis prowled around sniffing things, probably checking to see if there had been any squirrels in his territory.

It was a quiet Saturday night. Not that Saturday nights ever got rowdy in my neighborhood, or anywhere else in town. I’d finished my sandwich and was trying to decide if I wanted the brownie I’d bought badly enough to get up and get it, when a dark blue car pulled in at the curb. It took a moment for me to remember where I’d seen it before and by then the driver was getting out. It was Michelle. I dropped my feet and stood up. “Hi,” I said as she walked across the grass.

“Hi, Sarah,” she said. She stopped at the top of the steps and leaned against the railing post.

“Is everything all right?” I asked. I was very aware that she was a police officer—even though she was dressed in jeans and a hoodie, which suggested she was off duty—and we weren’t exactly friends anymore.

She smiled, although it looked a little tentative to me. “I wanted to tell you that the charges haven’t been dropped against Maddie but we are expanding the investigation.”

I nodded. “Thank you. It wasn’t what I was hoping for, but it’s something.”

She looked around. “I like your house. You’ve done a lot of work on it.”

“I couldn’t have done it without Liam and Gram,” I said.

“How is Liam?” she asked, tucking her hands into the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie.

I smiled. “He’s good. He’s at a solar-energy conference in Montreal right now.” My brother designed solar houses. His specialty was small houses that used passive solar technology.

Elvis came up the steps, stopped in front of Michelle and studied her for a moment. Then he meowed softly, his way of saying, “I remember you.”

She bent down to pet him. “He looks like he’s probably used up at least one of his nine lives,” she said.

I nodded. “Sometimes I wonder what the other guy looks like.”