Kelly, Sofie - Sleight of Paw

“I did,” I said. “I only paid five dollars for it over at the thrift store.”

“I like it. Are those mesh panels?”

Okay, what was I going to do if she saw Hercules’s face through the webbing? “Um, yes,” I said. “I have a piece of fake fur in there right now. You can probably see it through the panel.” As long as Hercules didn’t make a sound, we were okay.

At the bottom of the steps Rebecca gave me a hug. “I’m sorry you didn’t find anything helpful,” she said.

“But things will work out. They have a way of doing that.”

I handed her the garment bag, then headed down the driveway, giving her a little wave when I reached the street.

The library was closer than home, so I went in that direction. I needed to make sure Hercules was okay. I let myself into the empty building, and as soon as I was in my office I set the bag on my chair and unzipped it. He climbed out, jumped onto the top of my desk and shook himself.

“Are you all right?” I asked. He looked at me, almost . . . smugly? No, I was imagining that. “That was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done,” I said. “Letting you come with me. What the heck was I thinking? What if Rebecca had seen you?”

Hercules walked across to my side of the desk. I reached out to stroke his fur, but he twisted his head away, and spit a soggy piece of paper onto the dark polished wood of the desk.

“What is that?” I said.

He looked from the damp piece of paper to me. Then he lifted his paw and started washing his face. As far as I’d been able to figure out, if Hercules had something in his mouth, he could walk through a wall—or a door—with it.

I picked up a pen, flipped the bit of paper over and studied it. It was part of a photograph. It was the missing piece of the photograph that had been in Agatha’s bag; a dark-haired baby in a white sun hat smiled up at me. I couldn’t tell if the baby was a boy or girl.

“Did you tear that picture?” I asked him, folding my arms and frowning at him. He continued to wash his face.

I looked at the picture again. There was a bit of yellowed Scotch tape on the break. I held up a hand. “You didn’t chew it. I’m sorry.”

I held the fragment up to the light. The baby was sitting on a woman’s lap. The woman didn’t look like anyone I knew in Mayville. On the other hand, it was an old photograph.

I thought about the postcard Rebecca and I had found along with the bottom half of this photo. She was right. Agatha must’ve taken it from the display that had been at the shop. She’d probably found the photo there, too.

Maggie had had piles of photos in her studio for weeks while she was working on the collage panels for Winterfest. She’d spent days sorting, logging and then copying the ones she wanted. Maybe this had been with them.

A postcard, gloves from the lost and found, a scarf, this photograph. It was clear Agatha had been collecting things.

I pressed the knuckle of my thumb between my eyes and tried to rub away the frown lines I knew had to be there. “This doesn’t mean anything, except maybe to show that Agatha’s mind was slipping.” I was frustrated. “Maybe that envelope is meaningless, as well.”

I picked up Hercules and he stretched his front paws onto my shoulder so he could look out the window behind the desk.

“So, now what?” I asked him.

He looked blankly at me.

“Yeah, I don’t know, either.”

17

Iwasn’t quite as confident now about the contents of the envelope, since I’d seen the contents of the bag Agatha had been carrying around. On the other hand, it was all I had.

“You have to get back in the bag,” I said to Hercules. He didn’t move. “You can’t stay here. Too risky. And you wouldn’t want to miss one of Eric’s breakfast sandwiches, would you?”

Hercules jumped down onto the desktop, walked across my files and dropped to the chair, sending it spinning in circles. I leaned over the desk and caught the chair back halfway through the fourth circle.

He looked up at me woozily. I came around to his side and held open the top of the tote. He jumped in and lay down. I closed the zipper and got my coat on again, and we headed back out.

It occurred to me that there was someone else I could ask about that envelope: Peter Lundgren. His law office was just up by the Stratton Theater. “Detour,” I said to Hercules.

There was no one at Peter’s office. It was probably too early. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and Eric will be working,” I said to Herc. Well, actually I said it to the bag slung over my shoulder. Thankfully there was no one on the sidewalk.

As we turned toward the restaurant Hercules shifted in the bag. I stopped and peered through the top panel. Two green eyes looked up at me. “Not a sound,” I hissed. “And no jumping around. The last thing I need is to have to explain why my bag is moving.”

That had happened to me once at tai chi with Owen. Luckily, Maggie had saved me by saying her phone was in my bag, set to vibrate.

The restaurant was almost empty, but Eric was back behind the counter. I resisted the urge to unzip the tote and high-five the cat. Or do a fist-paw bump.

Eric nodded hello when I walked in, but then turned away. He still looked a little ragged, and I wondered how much of that was due to Agatha’s death.

Jaeger, who usually worked weekends for Eric, was wiping down the counter. He was a mask maker. I’d seen him a couple of times in his studio at the River Arts Center when I’d gone to visit Maggie. He smiled and gestured around the room. “Anywhere you’d like,” he said. “I’ll be there with coffee in a second.” I picked a table for two in the far corner under the window, but against the side wall.

When Jaeger came over I ordered a breakfast sandwich and set Hercules by my feet, between the wall and my chair. The top of the bag was open a crack. After I’d taken off my coat, I put cream and sugar in my coffee and took a drink. It was good, hot and strong.

I felt the bag moving between my feet. I looked down just in time to see Hercules wiggle out of the bag and make a mad dash along the wall, disappearing down the hall to the restrooms.

Crap on toast! What was I going to do now? I grabbed the bag and bolted from the table, turning the corner just in time to see the cat go through Eric’s office door, the door with the PRIVATE sign on it. And I did mean “through.”

“Hercules!” I hissed. Waste of time. He was already gone and it wasn’t very likely he’d have listened, anyway.

I stood in the small hallway and took several deep breaths. Hercules was in Eric’s office, yes, but Eric and Jaeger were still out front. All I had to do was not panic, wait until the cat came out, and get him back in the bag. How hard could that be?

I tried not to think about all the things that could go wrong, like Hercules walking through the very solidlooking door just as someone else was on their way to the washroom.

“Hey, Kathleen.”

Or Eric needing to get into his office.

I turned around.

“Is there a problem with the restroom?”

“Um, no,” I said. “I wanted to talk to you in private.”

His expression was instantly guarded. “This really isn’t a good time.”

I took a step closer so he couldn’t go around me easily. Then I pushed the bag behind me with one foot. “You, uh, you look tired,” I said gently. Whatever was wrong with Eric, I didn’t want to make him feel worse.

“Yeah, well, I had a tooth that was giving me problems.” He wiped a hand on his apron. “Like I said, this isn’t a good time.” He moved to go around me.

Maybe being gentle wasn’t going to work. “It’s a heck of a lot worse time for Ruby.”