Meow Mayhem

Home > Other > Meow Mayhem > Page 5
Meow Mayhem Page 5

by Lickel, Lisa;


  “Your business can’t be that mundane.” She held her tongue as we took Mem inside where he sought a patch of sunlight in the living room and made himself comfortable. Messages on the answering machine I kept for my private line were waiting: the LCD indicator flashed three.

  “I’ll just go freshen up,” Mom said as she carried her purse into the guest room.

  The first message was from Officer Ripple who wanted to set up a time to interview my mother and me.

  Easy enough. Mom would be here all week. We could surely squeeze in an appointment for such an important opportunity to discuss why Apple Grove was suddenly turning into a hotbed of intrigue since I moved here. They had, of course, taken our initial statements earlier; dusted for fingerprints, took photos, combed poor Mem, and taken the sack he’d been tied in.

  Dale Robbins from next door said he’d assumed the van in the driveway, the one that advertised something about security systems, was there on business for me; and no, unfortunately he hadn’t paid any more attention to the company name or license plate number.

  We definitely needed to work on the neighborhood watch details.

  The next message was from some family member of Netty, wondering about the cost of the funeral flowers. I had not been kidding with my mom about the nature of my work. I wondered how the family member got my personal number, since I don’t give it out readily. The third message was a hang-up. I frowned, perplexed. My machine did not record hang-ups unless there was some other accompanying sound. I reached to press the replay button.

  “OK, honey. All set for lunch? Anything I can help you with?” Mom came back to the kitchen with her “determined to keep Ivy upbeat” expression.

  I let the puzzling last message go and turned to explain about the police request for an interview.

  “Of course, I’ll help in any way I can. They do know about my coursework, don’t they?”

  “Um, I doubt it. For some reason, the subject hasn’t come up.” To thwart the astonishing news I had a lapse of judgment in not relaying to the police the very important information that my mother taught criminology, part time, at a community college, in another city, I distracted her with the first item that came to mind. “I’ve invited a friend over for dinner later in the week. I hope you can help me cook.”

  Her eyebrows went up. “A friend?”

  I planned to regret this later. “Yep. I have made a bona fide friend. His name’s Adam Thompson and he just opened the new bookstore. In fact, tomorrow we’ll get a cup of coffee there.”

  “I thought you said this man owned a bookstore.”

  I squirmed and gathered the strap of my purse over my shoulder. I jiggled the car keys. “He also does fancy coffees and gifts. Memnet seems fine for now. Let’s go out for lunch.”

  “Sounds intriguing.”

  I wasn’t sure if she meant the friend, the cat, or the lunch.

  ~*~

  We sat in Officer Ripple’s cramped office at City Hall the next morning. Mom settled in, comfortable in the presence of law enforcement as much as I was not. I didn’t feel guilty or anything, I just wasn’t as fascinated by high crimes and misdemeanors as my mother. She had made a niche for herself studying criminal behavior and passing that knowledge on in her college classes, the workshops she put on for community neighborhood watches, and even for local police departments and schools. She possessed a natural poise I assumed I would have by the time I reached her age. Trouble was, I never seemed to reach her age.

  “So, Miss Preston, Mrs. Preston.” Ripple shuffled the typed pages of our earlier statements on his desk. “As I understand, you both were out of town—”

  “That’s right,” Mom said. “We went for a drive in the…country.”

  “And neither of you heard anything earlier in the day or evening? Saw anything or anyone out of place, say, in the neighborhood? Heard any strange noises you couldn’t identify?” Ripple asked.

  “Officer, my daughter has barely settled in. Everything is strange and out of place to her. Perhaps I could offer my assistance,” Mom said.

  Ripple threw his pen on the pile of pages and then leaned back in his creaky chair.

  I swiftly gathered a breath. “Thank you, Mom.” I shifted to meet the resigned, closed expression of the officer in charge of me—my case, that is. “We didn’t see anything out of place. The neighbors came and went at their usual times. This has to be related to the earlier break-in, right? Only this time they were prepared for Memnet.” At Ripple’s speculative glance in my direction, I closed my open mouth, then gave a faint negative shake of my head. I could just imagine his thoughts: no wonder this one’s crazy. Check out the parent.

  “We can’t jump to conclusions, Miss Preston,” Ripple said. “Until we have clear evidence linking the two, we’re treating this as a separate incident.”

  “Detec—ah, Officer Ripple,” my mother inserted suavely, uncrossing her legs and leaning toward him, smile wide and deep. She tapped the pile of papers on the desk. “You’ve applied for promotion, I see. You’ll make a wonderful detective.”

  Officer Ripple actually preened at my mother’s non-accidental slip.

  I felt my mouth pucker and stifled the smirk at her tactics.

  “Do you believe this theft has anything to do with Ivy’s allegation that something might have happened to Apple Grove’s mayor?”

  Ripple laughed, but quickly smothered it. “Absolutely not! Mayor Conklin is on a business trip. In small towns like ours, the mayor’s job isn’t often a full-time position. Donald keeps regular office hours, but he’s been away a lot recently, working on behalf of bettering the community. Outsiders will have to adjust to not having the mayor at their beck and call.”

  Ouch. OK, I’ll probably always be considered an outsider. I was unprepared for Mom’s next move and needed to hustle to keep up with her.

  She stood in one fluid movement while somehow managing to snag her handbag at the same time.

  I grabbed and missed my bag a couple of times, and then, red-faced, clumsily pushed out of the broken-sprung chair.

  Mom held out her hand over Ripple’s desk.

  Ripple lurched forward to grab it, while trying to stand as well.

  “Thank you for your time, sir,” Mom cooed, as if we had not been the invitees. She smiled brilliantly, doing her magic best to put him at ease.

  I often watched her do it with recalcitrant students, obstinate potential suitors, and bullying neighbors, and stood back to admire. Although why she catered to this guy, I couldn’t tell. I followed her out the door, to the elevator.

  “Do you mind if we go up to the mayor’s office, Ivy?” she asked.

  “The office will probably be locked up if the mayor is out,” I replied. “But, sure, we can see if maybe Marion’s there. She said she would stop in a couple of times to catch up on the mail.” After the elevator doors closed I started in. “Mom, why—”

  She held up a hand, her warning sign, and made a nice smile at me. It was her way of asking me to wait before speaking. I suppose she thought the elevator might be bugged or something. As if Big Brother was concerned that terrorists might be planning their attack strategy in an elevator in Apple Grove, Illinois. Honestly.

  As I suspected, the door marked “Mayor” was locked tight and the place was dark.

  Mom still peered through the window and rattled the door. Then she looked up and down the hallway.

  On the fourth floor the only other enclosed spaces in this wing were restrooms and two large conference rooms. The area was cut off from the police side of city hall by a wall, with the elevator and stairs being the only inside access. An emergency fire escape snaked up one side of the wall past windows.

  “I’ve been told the old holding cells are in the basement. With the rats. Wanna go check those out, too?”

  “No, thank you, darling. Some other time,” Mom replied calmly.

  I despised the childish anxiety that rose from my gut. “Let’s go get that cup of coffee.”
Seeing Adam would definitely perk me up. Pun intended. I grinned.

  “What’s so funny?” Mom asked, as she headed toward the elevator.

  “Oh, nothing much.” I reached out and hugged her. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  We turned to walk back the way we’d come.

  Mom stopped and glanced back.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Why would the men’s room light be on, when there’s no one here?”

  I shrugged. “I’m sure someone just forgot. Maintenance will take care of it.”

  “But the mayor’s suite is the only one occupying this floor, right?”

  I double-checked the felt board at the end of the hall. “Yup.”

  “And if only the mayor’s wife and female assistant were here…”

  “Then what? Mom, there’s bound to be a lot of people coming and going.”

  “Not if the mayor’s out of town.”

  I could have kept going with the rationalization, but I wanted to see Adam. I knew where this was headed, so I heaved my best drama queen sigh and straight-armed the door open.

  I suppose I should have called out first, but Donald was in no state to protest.

  5

  Mom sniffed the air before proceeding cautiously into the chilly, tiled room. “The mayor, I presume?” Her voice echoed.

  I already started to tear up. Donald did not deserve to be seen like this. I blinked. I sniffed. “Um, yes. Mom! Don’t go in there!”

  She walked up to him. Donald was slumped unnaturally in one of the stalls, the door wide open. At least he was fully dressed. “Just checking. Why don’t you go tell the police, darling?”

  “O-OK. Wha-what do you think happened? Is he…is he…?” I sniffed.

  “I’m afraid so. There’s rigor, which means he hasn’t been gone all that long. But…judging by the way he’s angled, it’s as if his body has been put here…as though he was just set down…see? His hands aren’t natural. I don’t think he died here. Hmm…hard to tell. His neck is so swollen. I wonder…there are scratches on his hands and cheek.”

  “Don’t touch anything! Maybe he’s contagious.”

  “Of course not.”

  I returned double-quick with Officer Unhelpful Ripple and his female cohort.

  Dow introduced herself to Mom, who was standing guard at the closed restroom door. The officers nodded, and then walked inside. Dow reappeared and called for an ambulance, although everyone realized it could just as easily have been a hearse.

  We were back in Ripple’s office giving statements, again. I think I was in shock, for I didn’t remember how I got there or what I said. I sniffled, stated what I had seen, then sniffled again.

  Mom took my hand while she spoke. “Officer, I’d like to take my daughter home, now. She’s upset.”

  “Of course,” Ripple told Mom, as though he were granting her a great favor. “I’ll be in touch.”

  When we go to the front door, we had to stand aside for Yolanda Toynsbee. The Gazette’s owner was a little late. At least she didn’t seem to realize we were the ones to find the body.

  “I’d rather go for a cup of coffee,” I told Mom.

  She looked critically at me. Brushing back my hair with a comforting hand, she agreed.

  Mea Cuppa, Adam’s store, was down the block so we walked, leaving my car in the municipal lot.

  The weather was pleasantly warm, peaceful. Summer would official start in a couple of weeks, unless people went by the school year and knew it started the second the last bell rang. Leaves had unfurled, and the grass greened up nicely. Why was everything so alive when poor Donald was not?

  In the shop three customers were absorbed by books while two older ladies sat at one of the tables enjoying a chat and coffee. Most of the regulars at Tiny’s Buffet, kitty corner from Adam, already had their daily dose of gossip and cholesterol and weren’t quite ready yet for a fancy cappuccino or book browsing.

  Adam and a young lady I didn’t recognize were behind the cash register. Adam smiled, then sobered when he saw my face.

  Mom took her time checking out the store and, surreptitiously, its owner.

  We made our way over.

  He closed the cash register. “Hello, Ivy. And you must be Mrs. Preston. How do you do? I’m Adam Thompson. This is Colleen Bailey, my new assistant. Her mother is—”

  “We met your mother earlier when she took care of Memnet. The vet, right?” I asked.

  Colleen wasn’t quite the stunner her mother was. She was more down-to-earth looking, tall, but with a heavier structure than the doctor.

  Colleen gave a shy smile, showing crooked front teeth. “Mother mentioned she knew another Mau that was different from Tut. And, did you know—Mr. Thompson, here, has one, too! Isn’t that just insane?”

  I blinked.

  Adam opened his mouth, then closed it again. He took a breath and said, “Colleen is working for me Monday and Wednesday afternoons after swim practice and Saturday mornings when she doesn’t have a meet. She’s a junior at Memorial High School, and, obviously, loves cats.”

  I pressed her limp hand.

  “Geneva Preston,” my mother said. “Ivy’s mother, come to visit for a few days.”

  “Adam…” was all I got out before the tears started again.

  Bless my mother, who began to chat with Colleen. “I’d like a latte.” She drew Colleen away from Adam and me. “Can you show me how it works?”

  “Is that OK with you, Mr. Thompson?” Colleen strode confidently to the machine, set in a corner away from the cash register.

  “Sure.” Adam touched my shoulder and peered into my face. He led me to his office and closed the door. “What happened?” he asked.

  I sat with him on a black leather sofa set against the exposed brick wall. “Someone broke in again a few hours ago and this time managed to steal some of my equipment and tried to hurt Mem.” At his steady expression of concern, my tears streamed in earnest. “He’s fine. Dr. Bailey checked him over. Then, Mom wanted to see Donald’s office after our report to Officer Ri-Ripple. We went up there and we—we found—we saw Donald—de-dead!” I hardly noticed how nice his arms felt around me as I bawled into his shoulder. After I managed to gain control, I took his big white handkerchief, but stayed pressed against him. I hoped he didn’t mind, but I was afraid that if I moved away, everything else in my life that I thought was solid would turn out to be vapor.

  I felt his breath in my hair. “That must have been awful for you. Can you tell me what happened?”

  I sat up and wiped my eyes. “We don’t know. Mom said his neck appeared swollen and he had some sores on his hands and face.”

  “Where did you find him?”

  Him—not his body. What a nice man Adam was. “Um, in the men’s room near his office.”

  He never asked what we were doing in the men’s room. So very nice.

  “The police?”

  “Said they’d be in touch.”

  “I wonder why…who…how he got there.”

  I shivered. “Mom thought he hadn’t been gone that long, but what if he’d been there all week? And no one knew? We just kept passing by, all the while…”

  “Maintenance would have said something, Ivy.”

  Of course. “What’ll happen now?”

  He got up and walked to his desk, shaking his head. “The one thing we don’t want to do is let Donald down, right? We carry on with his dream to bring Apple Grove back to life.”

  I got up, too, determined to do my part. “And make sure no one gets away with murder in this town.”

  Adam’s eyes widened at my statement, but my indignation fueled my renewed obligation to make sure Donald’s plans for Apple Grove went as he desired. I opened the office door and walked out to find Mom. I took a deep breath and forced a smile. Not much I could do about red eyes.

  Adam followed and touched my arm. We stood in each other’s warmth, side by side, looking out over his store and acting nonchalant. At least
, I tried to. “I’m glad your mother is with you right now.”

  “Yes. Speaking of whom, can you make it tomorrow evening to eat with us? We’re cooking.” The last part came out like some kind of special announcement. When Adam and I had our previous rendezvous of casual dinners, we met in public, or had a pizza delivered while we worked putting up shelves and stocking them with books and magazines. He probably didn’t even realize I could cook.

  “That would be nice,” he said.

  “See you at 6:30? You close by 6:00, right?”

  “Right. And with clean up and tallying, that should work fine. Can I bring something?”

  “Not this time,” I replied, and walked away before I could read his expression, afraid of what it might reveal. We had a lot to talk about. Maybe the police would know something by then, too.

  I met my mother halfway to the register, walking with Colleen, whom she had engaged in a conversation about college. And pretty nearly talked into attending Maplewood Community College, where she taught, by the one-sided gist I overheard.

  Colleen nodded enthusiastically.

  “I’ll just talk to your mother some more about it before I head back, how’s that?”

  Colleen nodded harder, like one of those bobble-head dolls.

  “Here we are, Mr. Thompson,” Mom plunked her paperback on the counter.

  “Call me Adam,” he said, while he rang up her order.

  “Thank you. And I believe we’ll see you soon?”

  He inclined his head. “Yes. Ivy invited me for tomorrow.”

  Colleen watched this whole proceeding, obviously fascinated with the adult nuances.

  I pursed my mouth and hurried my mother out of the shop before she gave the rumor mill any more feed.

  “What’s your hurry?” Mom disliked being hustled.

  “I just don’t like being gossip fodder.”

  “There was no one left in there.”

  “Except for Miss Bailey, who grew up here, and who probably knows everyone in town, and can’t wait to tell her mother, who will then tell all of her clients.”

  “Oh, Ivy. What did he say when you told him about the mayor?”

 

‹ Prev