“Stop that!” Margaret commanded Gregg. “Little girl, what did that man look like? He had a kitty?” Margaret put a manicured hand on Jenny’s arm.
Jenny twisted violently, and I nearly dropped her.
Hackman saved us both from tumbling to the ground. Jenny transferred to his arms and hid her face in the policeman’s shoulder.
“That’s enough, Mrs. Conklin!” Hackman hissed.
Margaret recoiled.
I sought out Ripple and repeated what Jenny told me. His skepticism was not quite as pronounced as the first time we spoke on the telephone, and I could tell he did not completely discount Jenny’s story.
“I think I’ll suggest we move this investigation and questioning to the station. Thank you for your help and good afternoon.” Ripple tipped his cap and sauntered to join his boss under the streetlight.
Stanley followed me, a silent shadow, absorbing the conversation. He couldn’t have understood the situation, but I appreciated his show of support.
Hanley, the second to last hold-out on the city council, approached us. “And what do you hear from Adam Thompson these days, Ivy? I understand he moved back to Chicago permanently. I made a good offer, you know.”
I glanced at Stanley. His lips tightened, and he bent to brush at burrs stuck to the hem of his pants.
“Hello, Jeff,” I said, ignoring his taunt. “Let me introduce you to an acquaintance of mine, who insisted on helping search for Jenny, despite the fact that he didn’t even know her.” I rubbed Hanley’s absence from the search in his face and felt the satisfaction of seeing his nostrils flare momentarily.
I kept one eye trained on the culvert.
Jeff and Stanley shook hands and started that wary male assessment dance around each other.
I turned away completely to watch for Memnet, whom I could almost feel come closer. Someone touched my shoulder and I jumped. “Oh! Stanley, you startled me.”
Hanley must have left. The streetlights came on. The horizon developed inky purple and orange waves. The utility truck’s backlights flashed, then pinged as it pulled away.
I took Stanley’s hand. “You’ve been so very patient today. How can I thank you?”
He smiled in a way that I had forgotten, quirking just the right side of his mouth. He cleared his throat and said, “Let’s get something to eat. I like that buffet downtown. The one called Tiny’s. There’s this huge man behind—”
“Wait just a minute, will you, Stanley?” His companionable arm across my shoulders dropped when I bent over a gray streak leaping up at my waist, clawing my shirtfront. “Ah, Memnet, love. What took you so long? Where’s Tut?”
24
Even though we waited another twenty minutes, Tut did not appear. We took Memnet home before we went to Tiny’s. Isis padded into the kitchen and greeted Mem calmly, nose to nose, before checking the empty water dish and giving me the evil eye. My cat had been hungry and grouchy but allowed Isis to groom him.
I let Stanley come back to my house after we’d eaten a silent supper, but I wasn’t sure what to do with him. I hoped he wouldn’t stay long and didn’t waste much time worrying about where he was staying, ’cuz it wasn’t here. Especially after the way he’d kept calling Tiny’s red-headed evening waitress over to refill his water glass.
My answering machine flashed like a disco ball, practically humming. I groaned.
Stanley closed the kitchen door behind us and set the lock. He glanced from me to the equipment. In a routine from the old days, he knew to give me room for my business. “I’ll just leave you to it for a bit,” Stanley said, bending slightly to brush my temple with his mouth. “Your bathroom’s down this way?”
Forty-five minutes later I flopped on the sofa.
Stanley sat there looking way too comfortable catching up on back issues of the Apple Grove Gazette.
After dealing with my personal messages in the kitchen, I had gone up to the office.
Memnet remained within sniffing distance of me at all times.
Stanley tried to make nice with him on the way home, but Memnet buried himself under the blanket, creeping up my chest to put his nose in my ear, his favorite resting position. There had been no call from Adam, either personal or on my business line. Surely, he could have gotten hold of me somehow. I left a message for him on his cell, telling about Jenny and Memnet’s great adventure.
“Thanks again for helping us out today,” I repeated to Stanley, starting the “isn’t it about time you go home now” ritual.
He dipped the side of the pages to peer at me. “That Thompson guy. He’s the one at the bookstore, right?”
Isis hopped up on my other side. Distracted, I stroked her ears, so I wouldn’t have to look at my former fiancé, who had no right to question me about Adam. Isis sat on her haunches and stared at me.
“Yes. A bookstore and coffee place. You had business with him. At least, before the fire.”
“Yeah, too bad about the fire.” Stanley put the paper down on the coffee table. “He made a big order with me, though. I get partial credit for the Chicago sales. You been seeing him?”
Why exactly had I let Stanley into my house again? I wanted to close my eyes and pretend that everything from mid-June until now was a bad dream. Maybe if I ignored the Stanley nightmare, he’d vanish.
I focused on my cat instead of nosy Stanley. Mem and I played a little game, which involved him following my wiggling fingers until he nipped at them. I wished he could talk, so he could explain to me what he’d found in the tunnels. I still thought Stanley had accidentally let him out yesterday.
“Ivy? I asked—”
“I heard you.” I set my mouth in a straight line. “Why are you here? Now?”
He appeared puzzled. “I’m adding Mea Cuppa to my new route. I don’t mind driving out here to Apple Grove. It’s not bad. Now I know you’re here.”
I shook my head. “I mean, here, at my house. Why did you go to the trouble of trying to find me?”
“I missed you.” A crevice of a line appeared between his eyebrows. “I apologized about keeping your little purse. I’ll pay you back for the cost of replacing your driver’s license and all. Knowing you, you went right out and got another one.”
I hated that he had me parsed so well. “We said good-bye. A year ago. Why are you back?”
“I told you. I changed. It’s like I woke up. After I started going home so much at night with the new route, I realized how lonely every night seemed with no one else there. Then I thought, that’s how you must have felt.”
He was only a little correct. I’d had friends to spend time with. “Stanley, I’ve changed, too.”
Stanley barely paused. “Then I started hanging out with some of the new guys. Well, I was the new one, but besides that, I got to know other people. I had fun going out after work. I even joined a health club.” He showed off a biceps.
So, this was new. I sat up.
Memnet jumped off and went exploring as though he had been gone longer than a day.
I grinned. I had never seen Stanley so animated before. He almost impressed me. He had never acted as if he enjoyed being alive, something I came to wonder about during our five-year relationship. Even though I asked myself why I spent so many years waiting for him to pop the question, it was because I’d been comfortable with him. Not passionate, but comfortable. He didn’t boss me around or force me out of my niche to do anything I didn’t want to do. He never cheated on me. Boring. Safe. Could I make myself believe differently now? If I didn’t have Adam, that is?
He continued to jabber about movies, a book he’d read, some of the new dishes he had eaten at places he stopped at while on the road. “But, mostly…lately, I think about you all the time, Ivy.” He reached out to touch my face with his soft fingers.
I hated to burst his bubble. “What about before, when you just weren’t sure? About us—about me? What made you change your mind?”
“I figured you’d ask. I think I just wasn’t ready
before. Now, the guys, they all talk about their girlfriends. Wives. Kids. I even stood up in Doug’s wedding last month. I wondered…well, maybe now it’s the right time.”
I just stared, willing my lower jaw to stay hinged.
“With the new job and all, more money, I think I can swing it. I can set up almost anywhere, although it’d be nice if you wanted to live back…but that’s OK. And this job with Featherlight…it’s not like before, with Maribel Candy,” he told me. “This route has more volume, less road time. I can do phone calls, fax. I’m only overnight every other week.”
I listened. Maybe I didn’t pay attention to every word, but I sat there and let him talk. I stared out the window at the dark street and wondered what Adam was doing.
I leaned my head against the back of the sofa.
Stanley rambled on. His mouth moved, his lips formed words, his eyes sparkled. He did have nice eyes, Stanley. Blue. Invisible eyelashes, though.
Adam had been gone for weeks. I wasn’t sure he even cared about Isis anymore.
“So, what do you think?” Stanley broke into my reverie. “That other guy’s been gone a while, right? Can I call you again? I’ll be back next week. I can schedule…” His rambling dribbled to a stand-still.
I said something non-committal. It might have been “we’ll see,” but I don’t recall my exact words. Then I stood. I walked him to the kitchen and waited while he put on his jacket and jingled his keys. He hesitated at the door. “I’ve changed, really I have. You’ll see. Please, can we…will you give me another chance to prove it to you? Those were nice folks today. I can see why you like it here. I don’t mind…” He finally stopped jabbering and swallowed loudly. “Ivy.” He pulled at my shoulder.
The thought of kissing anyone but Adam made me unbearably sad. Adam’s face loomed in my mind when Stanley came close and I pulled back at the last second. I lifted my hand to cover his on my shoulder. “Not yet. Stanley. I…thank you again for today, OK? Thank you.”
I closed the door on his “I’ll call you later” and leaned on it.
Isis came to rub against my calves.
I crouched beside her so I could run my hand along her soft back as she wound herself back and forth.
Memnet held a paw on my knee.
I gave myself a mental shake and decided to put Stanley on the back burner. “Memnet, Memnet. What I’d give to hear about your adventure. Why did you go there, anyway? To find Tut? Was he there?”
He yawned a fishy-smelling mouthful of air at me and began to bathe.
I glanced up at my kitchen clock. The hands pointed to the long side of 9:30 and I decided to wait until morning to check on Yolanda and Jenny.
~*~
The next day I went to Addy’s office. She agreed to talk to me over supper after work. In her cheerful waiting area, I read with interest the edition of the Gazette, which reported Ripple’s search in the tunnels for Jenny’s mystery man. Jim had done the interview and article himself, so he obviously felt better after his recent heart trouble.
“Officer Tim Ripple of the Apple Grove Police Department reported on his findings in the defunct tunnel system. Although there was clear evidence of a fire having been used for possible cooking and heating, and a few newspapers scattered, it is impossible to determine if more than one person had been using the tunnels for habitation, or for how long.”
Wouldn’t dates on the found newspapers have been a big clue? Well, they always held evidence back in these investigations, to catch the real perp in the act.
“Apple Grove engineers are in the process of re-shoring the loose wall,” Ripple said. “I cannot say often enough that the tunnel system is dangerous. No one, and I mean no one, should ever try to enter those tunnels.”
A later brief mention was made of the great cat hunt: “Dr. Bailey reported a total of sixty-eight cats without licenses had been brought in. She enlisted the aid of Colby’s Humane Animal Treatment Center. Testing for CSD resulted in thirteen cases. Those cats have been treated and await adoption.”
Between patients, I set the paper aside to talk to Virg about how Memnet came back and about Maus in general. I thanked him again for his help and told him that he could call me next time the Core was needed. I would be proud to do what I could for Apple Grove.
Even Virg had gone home from his usual station at the reception desk by the time Addy had seen all of her patients.
At last Addy came out of her office, locked the doors and shut off the lights. “Thank you for waiting.”
“No problem. Are you about ready to leave?”
“Yes.” She took off her white coat and hung it over the door. I could see her mentally tallying her close-up procedure. I’d done the same often enough with my own business. We planned to drive into Colby to a family restaurant that boasted high-backed booths, in the hope of having an undisturbed conversation.
Jansburg’s Family Eatery was as nice as Addy said. We slid on either side of a glass table into black-cushioned booths that loomed a good seven feet toward the high ceiling. Fresh baby’s breath and guttering candles on each table were a simple touch of elegance. The booth provided the intimacy we wanted for our talk. After choosing our meals and giving our orders, we leaned in for a discussion.
I opened. “I’m pretty sure I know where Tut has been hiding.”
“He’s still alive, then,” Addy said.
I nodded. “He’s hiding. Probably he got scared when the round up started.”
“Makes sense. Where is he?”
“The tunnels. Jenny Toynsbee saw him when she was lost.”
“Ah. I heard about that. I’m glad she’s all right.”
“Yeah, me too. Did any of the cats you tested so far have a severe enough case of CSD to cause a healthy grown man’s death?”
She shook her head, her eyes troubled and mouth pinched. “I just got caught up on some of my journals. A former colleague is involved with a genetic engineering project I think you should be aware of.”
Whatever her news was would have to wait. The waitress arrived with our food. When she left, I told Addy I planned to pray. She waited, and I’m not certain if I saw her lips moving, too, after I raised my head, feeling a little more calm and able to hear her story, which ended with “So that’s why we have to get to Merris Corp headquarters in Chicago. I think that’s where they did away with poor Donald.”
My fork shook in my trembling hand. It seemed fantastic that I had been that close to the place where research into manipulating the bacteria that causes CSD harmless had taken place. Addy had read about it.
The food was getting cold. We began to eat.
Addy glanced around after a couple of forkfuls of her fragrant chicken tetrazzini. “I talked to Margaret. She said she didn’t have to worry about Donald acting crazy anymore.”
My lasagna tasted like dust in my mouth and I forced myself to swallow. I took a hasty gulp of ice water. “Wasn’t she upset that he was killed?”
Addy studied me, her face showing the depth of her concern as strain lines framed her lips. “Ivy, I’m afraid—”
“How’s everything, ladies?” Our cheerful waitress interrupted us. We assured her the food was delicious and she trotted away again after clearing the bread basket.
“Of what, Addy? Afraid of what?”
“I think she thought I had no business asking about Donald’s death. I asked if he’d been in good shape physically, and she said yes. Then later, she changed her mind, you know, as if she’d thought about it. It doesn’t feel right.”
“Did she tell you why she was so anxious to get MeriFood here?”
“I didn’t ask about that. I did ask how the search for Tut was going.”
“And?”
“She got mad, big time. Absolutely furious. Said she had to have him back—her one tie to her beloved husband.”
I swallowed hastily, before I choked. “Beloved! She hated Tut. Donald always said so. Wouldn’t even let him in the house.”
I sipped
coffee to give myself time to formulate my next thought. “She must have some reason to want Tut.”
We ate in silence for a few minutes.
“Adam and I found Tut’s collars,” I said, eventually; really just thinking out loud. “Some of them were pretty fancy and had hiding places.”
“Right.” Addy frowned. “Pet owners find them handy for a hide-a-key or to keep change in when they take their animals out, so they don’t have to carry a wallet or purse.” Both of her eyebrows rose. “You don’t think Donald hid something in Tut’s collar?”
“I do.”
“Something Margaret needs.”
Our food cooled. I no longer had an appetite. We huddled closer over the table while I explained my theory about the look-alike cousins as well as what I had seen in downtown Chicago.
Addy plopped back against the seat and took a shaky drink from her glass, the ice cubes clinking. “Why didn’t I see this coming?”
“You can’t blame yourself, Addy.”
Addy sat up straight. “Who else knows about this?”
“The Greens and Jeff Hanley. Yolanda, too.”
“Ah. At that meeting after Margaret’s return, at the bank? Some of their talk makes more sense to me now. But what can we do?”
I slowly pushed a forkful of lukewarm lasagna into my mouth. I wished I could have trusted her right from the beginning. “Right now, all we have is a collection of loose bits of suspicions and no organization.”
“Wasn’t Adam Thompson in on this? Is he doing some undercover work in Chicago?” She grinned and winked.
Adam was a tender subject with me. “I don’t think he’s coming back to Apple Grove. Why should he, when his store burned?”
Her mouth opened, and her eyes rounded. “What? Didn’t the chief declare the fire accidental? Faulty wiring behind the new stove, I heard. He’s rebuilding. I’ve seen it. Don’t you have his cat? I thought you two were an item. So, now you’re not? Who’s taking over the store? It’s nice of him to cover Colleen’s pay for July. What’s he doing in Chicago?”
I didn’t like the sudden gleam in her bachelorette eye. “Hanley and Cal Stewart own the building. You can ask them.” I sounded short and apologized. “It’s just that I’m disappointed he left.”
Meow Mayhem Page 24