Kelly, Sofie - Sleight of Paw

I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “I can’t believe people think she’s dating the real Eddie Sweeney, just because she drove around with a mannequin in the front seat of her SUV.”

“So, how do you think the rumors that Agatha left Justin a bunch of money got started?” Maggie asked. She looked both ways for cars and pulled me across the street.

I hesitated. Maggie leaned in front of me. “You don’t think it’s true, do you?”

“I think it could be, at least partly.”

“All right,” Maggie began, lowering her voice because of all the people around now. “Where did Agatha get the money? And why did she leave it to Justin?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know where she got the money. Maybe she saved it. She didn’t seem to be spending much. Maybe she bought Microsoft or Dell stock back in the day.” I could hear voices ahead of me and laughter and music.

“Let’s say, for the sake of argument, she had the money.” Maggie kicked a chunk of frozen snow down the sidewalk. “Why leave it to Justin?”

I gave her the Mr. Spock eyebrow.

“Because of Ruby.” Maggie made a face, as if the words left a bad taste in her mouth.

“Exactly.”

She kicked the chunk of snow again. It collided with a streetlamp and smashed into small bits of snow and ice. “People are going to talk.”

“I know,” I said. “And it’s going to hurt Ruby.”

“You think that’s why she’s not here tonight?”

“Maybe.” We were surrounded by people all heading in the same direction. “Where’s everyone coming from?” I asked.

“First you eat, then you come down here and slide until your stomach hurts,” Maggie said. “It’s a Winterfest tradition.”

As we came around a curve in the road by the marina I saw the venue for the first time. The rink was close to the marina itself. There was a fire going in the outdoor pit between the building and the ice. Beyond that I could see the dogsled track. But what dominated the space was the hill.

It was man-made, or, to be more exact, machine-made. There were eight runs: two for the little ones and six for the adults and teenagers. Walk up the ramps on either side, get in line, grab a sled—which looked like a potato sack and probably was—and then slide like stink to the bottom and crash into the bales of hay.

Maggie grinned at me, eyes sparkling.

“No,” I said.

“Oh, come on. One time.”

I watched Kate, my co-op student, hit a bump and go airborne for a minute. “You want to watch pie come out my nose?” I said.

She pretended to think about that for a minute.

“You can go without me.” I said. “I’ll stand here and cheer for you.”

Maggie made a show of checking her watch. “Oh, darn,” she said. “We have to go through or we’re going to miss the start of the Gotta Dance reunion special.” She held up one hand. “Otherwise . . .”

“Well, of course we wouldn’t want to miss Matt Lauer demonstrate that it is possible for human beings have two left feet,” I said.

“Matt does not have two left feet. He’s a fantastic dancer. He won—”

“—the coveted crystal trophy,” I finished for her. I’d never quite gotten Maggie’s love for the Today show host.

“You’re just jealous because that piece of beefcake in a loincloth lost.”

I blew a raspberry at her. The peace of beefcake she was mocking was Kevin Sorbo, Hercules from the cheesy syndicated series of the same name and the source of my Hercules’ name. Not that I admitted it to anyone.

“Where did you park?” I asked as we made our way back through the crowd.

“I’m about half a block up the hill,” she said. We dashed across the street and walked back to her little bug.

“You still thinking about buying a car?” Maggie asked as she started the car and cranked up the heat.

“Thinking about it is all I’ve done.”

“You need a truck. Something like Ruby’s. Well, maybe less funky.”

I thought about Harry’s truck, heat blasting from the vents. “Maybe a truck would be a good idea.”

“I can just picture Owen and Hercules riding shotgun,” Maggie laughed.

Owen and Hercules were waiting in the kitchen when Maggie and I walked in.

“Hey, guys,” she said as she pulled off her coat. Hercules watched her, hoping, I guessed, that she’d brought them some kind of treat. Owen walked around behind her, more like a puppy than a cat. I put the kettle on to make tea for Maggie. “Want a date square?” I asked.

“I could eat one,” she said. Maggie ate like a lumberjack and was built like a runway model. “I’ll put the TV on.” She headed for the living room.

Hercules padded over to the counter and looked at me. I slipped him a couple of cheese-and-sardine crackers. “Don’t tell your brother,” I whispered.

I put the date squares on a plate with a few chunks of mozzarella, which I knew Maggie would sneak to the cats when they all figured I wasn’t looking. When the water boiled I made tea, put everything on a tray with a couple of napkins and headed for the living room.

Maggie was on the sofa, feet propped on my leather footstool. Owen was on one side, giving Maggie adoring looks, and Hercules was on the other side, doing his no one ever feeds me look. The theme song for Gotta Dance was just beginning. I curled into the opposite end of the sofa, setting the tray on the cushion between Maggie and me.

She leaned forward and pointed at the TV. “See?” she said to Owen. “That’s Kevin Sorbo. Boo!”

The cat would have booed if he’d been able to.

Maggie gestured to the screen again. “Remember? That’s Matt Lauer. Yay!”

“Meow!” Owen said with enthusiasm.

Maggie laughed.

“Sold out for mozzarella,” I said. Owen was busy eating the bit of cheese that Maggie had just snuck to him.

I settled back against the cushions to watch the show and I couldn’t help thinking how much happier my house seemed than Agatha’s. Okay, so there was cat hair on the footstool and some part of a catnip chicken by the stairs. But it felt a lot more welcoming than Agatha’s lonely place.

Maggie was leaning forward again, forearms on her knees, discussing the various dancing couples with Owen, while Hercules ate the piece of cheese Maggie had slipped to him.

Thinking about Agatha made me wonder if what Rebecca and Mary had told me could be true. Did Agatha have all that money and had she left it to Justin?

Maggie left when the show ended. We made plans to check out the Winterfest activities Saturday night. Yawning, I put the dishes in the sink. “I’m too tired to tell you everything,” I said to Hercules and Owen. “Remind me in the morning.”

Owen woke me in the morning by breathing his cheesy, bad breath in my face. Over oatmeal and bananas for me, plus two cups of coffee, and cat food and water for the cats, I told them about the visit to Agatha’s house and the rumors about the money. They didn’t have any insights, either.

The library was open only until one o’clock because of Winterfest, but it was a busy morning. I stopped for groceries before heading home, slogging up the hill with a heavy canvas bag in each hand. I decided maybe I could create a workout DVD: the Grocery Bag Workout.

I spent the afternoon cleaning my little house and doing laundry, with Hercules for company. Owen appeared only when the new batch of kitty treats came out of the oven.

Maggie pulled into the driveway at about seven o’clock. She was wearing heavy boots and cherry-colored earmuffs over her mohair hat. It made her look like a fuzzy, red-eared teddy bear.

“Oh, good. You’re wearing your snow pants,” she said, as I laced up my boots.

“I don’t know what you have planned, but I’m figuring a little padding couldn’t hurt.”