Софи Келли - Hooked On A Feline

“I am,” he said as he stood in the middle of the yard, looking around. “I just want to know where it’s going to go when I’m finished.”

I didn’t follow the logic. “Okay.” I looked at Micah, who seemed to shrug.

“What do you think?”

“On the deck,” I said.

Micah meowed her agreement.

Marcus looked around the yard again. “I think by the rosebushes,” he said, muscling the bench over the grass into place.

“Bees,” I said.

He thought for a moment, then moved the bench to the other side of the bed I was working in. Micah and I exchanged another look, which this time he saw.

“What?”

I hesitated.

“You don’t think this is a good spot? Why?”

“It’s not a big deal. It’s just that the ground is kind of uneven right there.”

He pushed at one end of the seat. “There. I’ve found a level spot.”

“Good,” I said without looking up. I knew there were no level spots on that part of the lawn.

Marcus dropped onto the bench. It immediately canted sideways, almost knocking him to the ground. Micah walked around the edge of the vegetable bed, peered at Marcus and gave a concerned meow.

“I’m fine,” he muttered.

“Why don’t you try it on the deck?” I suggested.

He moved the bench under the maple tree instead and stood back with a look of satisfaction on his face.

Micah looked skyward, then glanced at me and meowed once more.

Marcus shook his head. “What’s wrong with right here? There’s shade. There are no bees. The ground is level. It’s perfect.”

Before I could answer, a bird flew overhead and made a direct hit on the center of the bench seat.

Micah ducked her head. I bit my lip to keep from laughing and watched Marcus from the corner of my eye.

He stood silently for a long moment. Finally, he said, “You know, I think the bench would look great on the deck.”

I nodded. “Good idea.”

Later, once the weeding was done and the grass had been clipped around the flower beds, we sat on the deck steps with glasses of lemonade and lots of ice. Marcus seemed lost in thought.

“You weren’t wrong to take a second look at Leitha’s death,” I said, “no matter what Johnny says, no matter what anyone says.”

He put his free hand on my knee and gave it a squeeze. “Thanks. I know, but it has complicated the investigation into Mike Bishop’s death.”

“I’m not second-guessing you, but is there any chance his death is connected somehow to those car break-ins?”

He shook his head. “It’s not.” He ran a hand though his hair. “They’re just kids—you know that, teenagers—and more important, they have alibis for the night Mike was killed. I’m glad that Mariah Taylor isn’t hanging around with that bunch, though.”

“She’s a bright kid,” I said, reaching for my glass, which was two steps below me between my feet.

“There are three kids involved as far as I can tell—a girl and two boys—and I feel confident that the girl is the ring leader. She’s smart and articulate and she’s got a bit of a chip on her shoulder. She’s being raised by a single dad, and from what I could see, money is tight. We have them on the whipped cream incident and a couple of other car break-ins, but that’s as far as it goes. They didn’t have anything to do with Mike’s death.”

“Why didn’t you tell that to Johnny? He thinks you’re not working on the case.”

He leaned sideways, kissed my neck and straightened up again. “Because it just happened and the lawyers and the prosecuting attorney are still talking, hopefully working out some kind of a deal that involves restitution and community service. Cleaning garbage out of ditches sounds pretty good this time of year. And I think right now nothing I could say is going to make a difference to Johnny.”

“It would be such an easy solution if you found out that Mike had been killed just by some random thief.”

“I don’t think this case is going to be that easy,” he said.

I leaned my head against his shoulder. Neither did I.

Marcus kissed the top of my head. “Could you make a list of everyone you remember being at the library for Mary’s talk? I should have asked for that sooner.”

“I can do that, but there’s no way I’ll remember everyone.”

“I know,” he said. “But it’s a place to start.”

We sat there for a little while longer, talking about the backyard and whether or not it need another raised bed. Finally Marcus stretched and got to his feet. “Do you want to try those veggie burgers Maggie recommended?”

I looked at Micah, who wrinkled her nose. “No,” I said.

“Let me rephrase.” He gave me an over-the-top smile that made me think of SpongeBob SquarePants for some reason. “Hey! Let’s try those veggie burgers Maggie recommended!”

“Merow!” Micah said. Rephrasing had not changed her opinion.

I laughed. “I’m willing to try them, but if they taste terrible, you have to promise we can order pizza.”

“Deal,” he said. “And Maggie said they’re good.”

I stood up and kissed the side of his mouth. “Maggie thinks herbal tea is better than coffee. I love her, but she’s not a reliable source of information on this kind of thing.”

The veggie burgers were actually good. Even Micah tried a tiny bite and seemed to like them. After supper I pulled up some paint swatches on my phone and we tried to decide what color to paint the bench with Micah weighing in with her opinion from time to time. Later on, we drove out to The Brick to listen to a new band. We didn’t talk about Mike or Leitha and I tried not to think about them, either.

Marcus and I went out to feed the cats at Wisteria Hill the next morning.

“Do you know if Leitha shopped online?” I asked as we drove up the hill. I was thinking out loud as much as I was talking to him.

He shot me a quick glance. “Where did that come from?”

“I’m just trying to work out a couple of things. Did she shop online?”

He kept his eyes on the road but gave his head a little shake. “Lots of people in their nineties have embraced technology, but Leitha Anderson was not one of them. No computer. No tablet. No smartphone. What is it exactly that you’re trying to work out?”

“How she ended up with potassium chloride in her system. What if she took too much by mistake?” I held up a hand before he could say anything. “Just hear me out. Leitha was stubborn and opinionated. Maybe she thought it would benefit her somehow. Potassium does help the heart and the kidneys work properly, among other things, although as far as I know, most people get enough from what they eat.”

“I don’t disagree with your reasoning,” Marcus said. “But we’re still left with the same question. How did she get it? She didn’t order anything online. She didn’t buy it in town. There was no potassium chloride in her house. No charges for it on her credit card. And before you suggest she bought it in Minneapolis, when she went there, Jonas Quinn always drove her. She’d have had no opportunity to buy anything he wouldn’t have seen.”

“Maybe she stole it,” I said.

“You mean, from the hospital?”

I nodded.

He shook his head. “I had the same thought. Again, no opportunity.”

I sighed softly.

“Kathleen, your own timeline puts Leitha at the library for close to two hours. The medical examiner says the potassium chloride had to have been ingested there. There’s not a lot of wiggle room in that. All she had in her stomach was the partly digested cookie and tea with milk and sugar.”

“Did she take any pills?” I knew I was reaching.

“She took a multivitamin every day. It was a large yellow pill, not a capsule, which could have been tampered with a lot more easily. I don’t see how it could have been the source of the potassium chloride.”