Анна Керн - Deadly Diamond

I liked the idea and tapped my tail. Misty saw my reaction and turned her back to me in obvious disapproval.

“Maybe, if he’s anything like Murfy.”

“I’ll let you know if he turns up.”

“Mom, I’m not promising. …”

“I know,” she said as she cleared the table. “So do you have plans for this week-end?”

“Yes. Nikki read in the paper that the old pioneer settlement is hosting its annual A Florida Christmas . Neither one of us has been there since we were in high school.”

“What did the article say about the event?”

“She said the historic buildings in the settlement are decked with old-fashioned pioneer ornaments. There’s music, including concerts in the 1890 church and visitors can join carolers as they stroll around the grounds.”

“That place is like a tiny rural village, isn’t it? I think the oldest building is the 1875 log cabin. My favorite is the kitchen in the old schoolhouse. I love the high ceiling with tall windows all along the wall looking out to the herb garden, not to mention the fresh-baked goods they offer.”

“My favorite was the blacksmith shop. I think I was intrigued by the red hot iron being pounded into something.”

“Well, it sounds like fun. All you need is some cool weather to make it perfect.”

“Yeah, that’s what Nikki said. Did they have sour orangeade the last time you went?”

“No, and it doesn’t sound like something I would want either,” she said, puckering her lips. “What is it?”

Ethan laughed. “Nikki said it’s an old Florida pioneer treat made from the juice of sour oranges.”

“Well, that’s a new one on me. I’ve never heard of sour orange trees, unless they mean from un-ripened oranges. Let me know what it tastes like.”

“I’ll do better than that. I’ll bring you some.

“A cat’s eyes are windows enabling us to see into another world.”

––Irish Legend

CHAPTER EIGHT: The Crime Is Murder

Sunday was Alyx’s turn to be on the sales floor and Maggie’s day off. They rotated their schedules so that everyone had two consecutive days off, if not necessarily the same two days, every week. However, it didn’t always work out that way for Alyx and Maggie. Sometimes, one or the other worked seven days in a row taking time off only when necessary. They would be first to tell you that the hard work and sacrifice paid off. They had achieved their dream, and Alyx had said more than once that they were more successful than either of them had ever expected. In fact, there had been some discussion about opening another store. As far as I knew, the discussion had ended there.

The customer at the cash register now, obviously excited about his purchase, was telling Alyx how thrilled his wife was going to be when he gave her the California Pottery oblong platter in her pattern––roses and tulips in mauve. Alyx wrapped the plate and bagged it in the new, expensive, brown paper gift bags with the name of the store and picture of the store’s façade printed on one side of the bag.

Detective Smarts and another man walked in just as she completed the sales transaction, and she directed the two men to the workroom at the rear of the store, recently rearranged to make room for a couch and worktable. I followed discreetly.

Alyx sat at her desk. Detective Smarts, wearing dress slacks, a button-down, long-sleeved shirt and no tie, introduced his partner whose name I missed. I didn’t miss his sharp creased slacks and crisp blue shirt. The officers pulled up two chairs and sat facing Alyx. I perched on the worktable behind them, keeping a cautious eye on the two men.

“I’ll come straight to the point, Ms. Hille. We’re investigating a homicide. Mrs. Burns was murdered.”

“What? How?”

“She was smothered.”

“Smothered? How do you know that?” Alyx asked incredulously.

The detective rubbed his forehead. “Ms. Hille, I’m not going to get technical here. Among other signs, the medical examiner found bruising around her mouth, and her eyes were bloodshot.”

Alyx shook her head. “Who would want to kill a sweet lady like Althea?”

“That’s what we aim to find out, ma’am,” said the sharp dresser as he unclipped a ballpoint pen from his clipboard, poised to take down her every word.

“I’ll be glad to help you in any way I can, but I’ve already told you all I know.”

Detective Smarts inhaled deeply. He rubbed his forehead again. “Yes, and by telling me again, you might remember something you didn’t remember before.”

“Okay, I understand. What do you want to know?”

Smarts asked all the questions; his partner took notes.

“How well did you know her?”

“I met her last spring when she came in the store. The slant-front desk in the window display drew her in; after that, she came in every month to make a payment, and often to browse or chat. Maggie and I had lunch with her about once a month, usually at the café next door.”

“Were you ever at her residence?”

“Friday, when George and I delivered her desk was the first time.”

“George, who?”

“George Lucas is the woodworker we use to restore antiques or create new items from things that had a previous life as something else. Do you need his address or phone number?”

“No, we can get that.”

“You said she saw the desk last spring. Why did it take so long for her to get it?”

“She said she didn’t have the money to pay for it and didn’t want to put it on a credit card, so we arranged monthly payments. She was a proud lady and wouldn’t take it home until it was paid for in full.”

He looked at his partner and at his notepad to make sure he was keeping up with the notes and continued when he got a nod.

“According to our information, Mrs. Burns was a wealthy woman, meaning that she could have paid for the desk at anytime.”

“That may be true, and I don’t doubt it is. All I can tell you is what she told me.”

Detective Smarts stood up and his partner followed suit, hooking his pen back on the clipboard rather than putting it his shirt pocket, as most men would do.

They thanked her for her time and left.

Misty had been listening at the door, and heaved a big sigh of relief after I let her know that Smarts was investigating Althea’s murder and wasn’t after our humans.

“Cats are rather delicate creatures and they are subject to a lot of ailments, but I never heard of one who suffered from insomnia.”

––Joseph Wood Crutch

CHAPTER NINE: Althea’s Secret Life

Since Misty was the only one of us cats who’d seen the thief with and without his disguise, it made sense to post her at the front door, with Pooky nearby for reinforcement. The only napping allowed were catnaps, and that didn’t make anybody happy.

The well-dressed woman now standing at the counter ruined my first catnap of the day. I sensed an aura of suspense surrounding her and looked her over carefully.

Alyx asked her if she needed assistance.

“Yes, I’m looking for Alyx Hille.”

“I’m Alyx. How can I help you?”

I assumed the woman was there to see her about a decorating job––she wasn’t. She introduced herself as Carole Berth, Althea’s niece.

“It’s nice to meet you, Carole,” said Alyx. “I wish we’d met under different circumstances. I’m sorry about your aunt; she was a lovely lady and will be missed.”

“I didn’t see or speak to my aunt often, so I don’t know if she has any friends. She mentioned your name the last time I spoke to her. I know you’ve been kind to her, and I wanted to thank you and let you know that there are no funeral arrangements; Detective Smarts said you asked.”