Donally, Claire - Cat Nap (A SUNNY & SHADOW MYSTERY)

As they got off the interstate and began negotiating the winding country roads, Sunny related the other story that Mrs. Martinson had passed along.

“So you think this Dowdey woman might be holding Shadow against his will?” The skeptical, tough-cop tone crept into Will’s voice.

“Shadow is a wanderer,” Sunny said. “That’s the first thing Ada Spruance told me about him. And I guess he proved it when he wandered off from my house. If someone is locking him up in the hopes of turning him into a house cat, I don’t think that’s going to turn out well.”

Will sighed. “So what do you want to do?”

“Tomorrow—or later this morning—”

“Try ‘early this afternoon,’” Will suggested.

“Whenever,” Sunny said impatiently. “I’ll print out some more posters. Then we’ll visit Mrs. Dowdey, pretending we’re going door to door.”

“Try to shame her into giving up Shadow if she’s got him?” Will nodded. “Sounds like a workable plan.”

“And if that doesn’t do it, we’ll try some old-fashioned snooping,” Sunny added. “I’ll mention this system for getting cats acclimated, and ask to see what sort of setup she uses.”

“I’m glad you started using ‘I’ instead of ‘we,’” Will said.

“Well, of course you’re coming along,” Sunny told him. “I’ll have a lot more clout if I come knocking at her door with a town constable at my side.”

*

The weather waschill and blustery that afternoon as they made their way up Carolyn Dowdey’s walk. But that wasn’t the reason that Will looked so very ill at ease. “After last night, I’m going to be on pretty thin ice with the sheriff,” he muttered. “This could be considered a misuse of authority.”

“You’re helping to look for a lost kitty,” Sunny said. “What could be more innocent?”

She gave the bell a healthy ring and held her lost cat posters up. After a moment, Mrs. Dowdey opened the door a crack, peering doubtfully out at them. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, I hope so.” Sunny tried to put a little excess enthusiasm into her voice. “Have you seen this cat in the neighborhood?” She went to hand over a poster and then brightened. “Wait a minute, you’ve actually met Shadow. It’s Mrs. O’Dowd, right?”

The woman stiffened at having her name mistaken for that of the town’s worst dive bar. “It’s Dowdey,” she corrected.

“I’m so sorry.” Sunny went for her best contrite look. “It’s just that I’m nearly out of my mind with worry over this little guy. He went off wandering in this horrible weather.”

Mrs. Dowdey nodded, an odd expression on her face. “Some cats do that, I’m told.”

“Even if he’s adopted another family, I just want to know that he’s safe,” Sunny implored. She turned to Will. “Constable Price here has been kind enough to volunteer his time to help me search.”

“Constable,” the older woman repeated, giving Will a sidelong look. Will nodded, looking a little at a loss for words when confronted with the stink of spoiled perfume that wafted out the door.

“Yes, ma’am,” he finally managed in his best good-cop voice. “Any help would be appreciated.”

“I don’t know what help I can offer,” Mrs. Dowdey said dismissively. Then the Kittery Harbor Way kicked in as she added, “Other, perhaps, than inviting you in for a warm drink.” Will turned to Sunny, giving her a you’re-going-to-owe-me look.

Mrs. Dowdey led them into what had been a large, graceful center hall in the home’s original incarnation. A formal parlor stood off on the left, but the woman led to the right, down a short hallway with a drop ceiling, and into what would have been the family room if a family had been living there. Large glass windows let in pale daylight—and probably let out a lot of heat. No wonder Carolyn Dowdey was wearing a heavy sweater. And she had a large, high-end brocade reclining chair pulled right up in front of a built-in fireplace that seemed a little small for the room.

“How lovely,” Sunny lied through her teeth. “This looks like something Mr. Allerton would do.”

“That’s right.” Her hostess smiled, obviously pleased.

“A friend of my dad’s is considering some renovations, and that’s one of the contractors he’s considering. I understand he did a lovely job on Dr. Rigsdale’s office—the one in Portsmouth.”

“That’s true,” Mrs. Dowdey said, a bit less pleased at the turn in the conversation.

I wonder how much Allerton talked about that project? Sunny asked herself. Who might know about the secret panel?

“I heard he installed several exotic built-ins,” Sunny went on, keeping an eye on the other woman. Something was going on there, but she wasn’t sure what. “But there were some cost overruns. I guess you have to expect that with construction.”

“And with other things.” Mrs. Dowdey went to the fireplace, opening the glass doors that protected the hearth. She picked up the poker and turned to Will. “Would you mind, Constable?”

“Certainly not,” Will replied, stepping forward and reaching for the fireplace tool.

As he did, Carolyn Dowdey used it to whack him on the side of the head. Will went down in a heap.

“Overruns are all right when you’re adding on to a house,” the woman said to Sunny as if nothing had happened. “It’s a different thing when your pet’s life is at stake. Dr. Rigsdale deserved what I did to him.”

24

In the dimnessbeyond the ceiling, Shadow crouched, trying to sleep. Every movement he made raised a cloud of dust. How much longer could he stay up here? He’d explored every place he could get to and hadn’t found a way out.

Sooner or later, he’d come down for food or a drink, and the One Who Reeks would appear from behind the door. She’d find his hiding place and ensure he wouldn’t even have that empty escape.

Sunny, why did I leave you? For the thousandth time, he asked himself the question. And as he did, his ears suddenly flicked forward. He was wishing so hard, he thought he heard Sunny. Her voice seemed to come from the big room. Shadow charged along the metal path and squashed himself through the hole in the wall. Could it be? Had she found him?

As he came through, he heard a crash. Yes, that was definitely Sunny’s voice, getting louder.

*

“Excuse me?” Sunnypopped out of her chair as Carolyn Dowdey advanced on her. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure I get to stay with my new cat,” Mrs. Dowdey said, hefting the poker. “Mrs. Purrley got sick, and everything that so-called doctor recommended just made her sicker—and cost more money. Intravenous this, surgical that, and in the end I was giving daily doses of something to keep her going from a syringe. And finally, when my poor cat just couldn’t keep going anymore, he suggested that she be put to sleep. Of course, he charged for that, too.”

“I’m sorry.” Sunny maneuvered to keep the chair between her and this crazy lady.

“And then, when Mrs. Purrley was gone, he gave me a movie disc that was supposed to make me feel better.” Mrs. Dowdey’s cat face wasn’t quivering; it was twitching. “It didn’t. And then he had the nerve to charge me for it! That was when I decided it was time to give Dr. Rigsdale some of his own medicine.”

Okay, that’s enough, Sunny decided. You’re younger and faster than this old woman. Just dodge around her, get out the door . . .

Before Sunny could try, Mrs. Dowdey launched a wild swing that struck the chair Sunny was sheltering behind. It toppled over.

Don’t know that I’m stronger. Sunny backpedaled, darting behind an occasional table. Mrs. Dowdey shattered the thing, knickknacks and all. “It was easy enough. Joe Allerton had mentioned that silly secret door. Dr. Rigsdale was at his desk, with his back to me. The first thing he said was, ‘Did you bring the money?’” She laughed, an ugly, rasping sound. “It was the last thing he said, too.”