Meow Mayhem

by Lickel, Lisa;

  “Virgil said your old boyfriend’s in town.”

  “Stanley has visited. He’s a traveling salesman,” I said evenly. “But back to Tut. I’m sure he’s in the tunnels, but he’s proving hard to flush out.”

  “Even with Memnet’s persuasion?” Addy smiled. “Give me some time to think about that.”

  “Meanwhile, I have a theory about Merris Corp headquarters.” I stopped as our waitress silently left a check face down at the edge of our table, her lip curled at our barely disturbed plates. She set takeout boxes next to the check and turned on her soft-heeled shoes.

  I set my napkin on the table and pulled the check toward me. “Feel like a drive soon?”

  25

  “We have to plan out how we’ll say this, so the police will accept our evidence,” Addy said as we left the restaurant and returned to my car. I was glad she believed we needed to go to the authorities.

  “What about Margaret? She’ll bring up all kinds of dirt to cast doubt on you. Everything you were worried about will come out. You know that.”

  Addy’s humorless smile tipped off the extent of her rage. “Margaret’s dug her own grave. She’s made no friends in Apple Grove. MerriFood is in serious trouble and if she tries to defend them, she’ll go down, too. Virg told me the governor has been called in to look at the mess Apple Grove’s in. He’s got the authority to appoint a temporary emergency government. Since Virg used to be council president, he’s offered to step in and help. He told me, because he thought he’d have to stop volunteering as my receptionist for a while.”

  Virg’s interaction delighted me. From what Marion told me about the current state of affairs at city hall, someone had better do something, and quickly, or Apple Grove would soon turn to chaos. Most of the council members had quit, the MerriFood building skeleton sat like a rusty eyesore in the middle of an unpicked bean field. Every issue of the Gazette featured some sort of letter or editorial about how the city was in shambles. No one could get their questions answered, no new building permits were being issued and licenses were lapsing left and right. There were rumors that taxes would skyrocket so no one could afford to live here anymore.

  “Does Virg realize what he’s stepping into?” I asked. “From what Marion says, city hall is a mess.” I started to feel better about what I was planning to do to bring justice for Donald.

  “I think so.” Addy composed herself for the drive back to Apple Grove. This time we talked about ourselves, our families, our hopes. “For the first time I feel like I have a future,” Addy said. “If I can get past the mistakes I made—”

  “If Margaret will let you,” I corrected. “I hope she will now. Will you tell Colleen?”

  “Sometime. I want to see what happens first. What shall we do about our theories?”

  “I think I know just the right person to talk to.”

  By the time we pulled into the parking lot of the police station in Apple Grove, Addy and I felt we had a reasonable collection of facts to present to Officer Ripple.

  ~*~

  “But not enough for a search warrant,” Ripple said. By 8:00 that night it was nearly dark outside.

  We were hot in the station and thoroughly frustrated.

  “Look, ladies…”

  Whenever someone started with “look, ladies,” I just knew we wouldn’t be taken seriously. And I was right.

  “…you’re not trained. You wanna be cops, investigators, go to police school. Leave the serious stuff to us. You could get in a lot of trouble.” He held up his hands at Addy’s protest.

  I felt too tired by then to argue.

  “This is dangerous. If there were guns or something involved, you could get hurt, or killed.”

  Addy started again, patiently. “Merris was developing an agent meant to change the structure of Bartonella henselae to eventually eradicate it. I read about it in the professional journal I get. I believe this work is going on at the Summersby building, where Merris Corp recently moved the laboratory where I used to work. I can find the material used to infect the late mayor. If it’s there. I’m the only one qualified.”

  “You know as well as I do, Doctor Bailey,” Ripple said, “if you ladies even consider going onto Merris Corp property without express permission from the owner, nothing you find there can be used for any purpose to help Donald’s case, and you will, in fact, be prosecuted for trespassing. And you will, in fact, get any case we’ve built thrown out. Do you understand me?” He put a hand behind both of our elbows and escorted us out. “Good night.”

  Undaunted, I got out my car keys and headed for my car. Addy hesitated before trotting to catch up, her heels echoing on the pavement under the floodlights around the building. “What’s next?”

  I was glad she was with me. “I’d like to talk to Yolanda.”

  Addy nodded and slammed her door. “I’m in.”

  ~*~

  “Well, I’m glad Jim’s not here tonight,” Yolanda said, “’cause he’d either say ‘no’ or want to come. Jenny’s with her mama for a few days before school starts.” Yolanda bowed her head, then raised it and cast us a determined expression. “What can I do?”

  I looked at Addy. “Well, for starters, we need back up.”

  Yolanda grinned and pulled off her half-glasses. “I always wanted to drive the get-away car. When do we leave?”

  ~*~

  So that’s how I ended up going on a ladies shopping trip to Chicago, the weekend before Labor Day. In reality, we were three women who were determined to protect our community. On the way, we went over our strategy and came up with a plan.

  “We’ll show them the newspaper articles about the outbreak of CSD and the strays round up in Apple Grove. Then I’ll ask about how the new antibacterial agent is coming along. Hopefully Cole is still working there. He’ll talk.”

  “So, Yolanda will circle the block,” I said, “and I’ll distract Cherry, while Addy goes up to the eleventh floor.”

  “Remember, we have to have permission to look around the lab,” Yolanda cautioned.

  The doctor snorted. “I’ll just call now and find out if Cole is there.” Addy put her fingers to her lips and pushed the speaker phone button on her cell.

  Yolanda and I held our collective breath in an effort to remain quiet.

  Addy put on a cheery voice and made poor Cole believe that she was just in the neighborhood and wanted to see the new lab.

  ~*~

  Cherry had not been particularly pleased to see me again. I could tell. Those beautifully decorated lips poofed in annoyance. She reached for the phone, probably to dial security.

  “I have an appointment,” Addy said. She squinted at Cherry’s name tag. “Cherry,” she added belatedly with a smile that made me doubly glad she was on my side.

  Cherry knew her business and dialed anyway, her stare keeping us skewered to the front desk. How much did she know about what went on in this place? Murder, for one. Kidnapping. Potential bioterrorism.

  I shuddered and glanced around the dim lobby again, wondering where the back door was. There were a lot of doors.

  The transport van angle troubled me. But how to prove that, one—Donald had been murdered by use of a lethal dose of bacteria, and two—said murder took place here, and three—Donald’s body had been moved to the men’s room of his own office suite across the state to take suspicion away from MerriFood.

  “Thank you, Dr. Webster.” Cherry hung up. “Dr. Bailey, you have permission to visit Merris. Follow me and I’ll open the elevator for you.” She made a performance out of collecting a big noisy keychain and inserting one of the keys into a slot next to the elevator doors. They swished open, swallowing Addy when they closed.

  Cherry returned to her round desk. “What can I do for you, ma’am?” she asked, not even looking at me, but busying herself by booting up a computer.

  I locked my hands behind me and raised my chin. “I’ll just wait for my friend,” I said, and began to saunter around the lobby as if fascinated b
y the miniature squares of black, white and turquoise tile. I meandered slowly toward what I judged to be a position behind Cherry to covertly examine some of those many egresses, when a glance at her revealed why her desk was round. She swiveled to keep me in view at all times. I felt like whistling, but I didn’t. Something pinged on Cherry’s desk, and while she attended to it, I managed to put my hand on three doorknobs, none of which moved.

  The elevator was descending straight down from the eleventh floor like an express train. Addy stumbled out, her face flushed. She grabbed my arm and took a deep breath. Flashing a Hollywood smile toward Cherry, she muttered out of the side of her mouth, “Keep moving and act natural.”

  I wondered if she had a clue how unnatural she was acting at the moment, with her hand deep in the side pocket of her lab coat and her hair mussed like she’d lost a wrestling match. I wondered just what her relationship with Cole had been.

  We continued our stroll through the revolving door. “Where is Yolanda?” Addy grunted. She dropped my arm and held a hand up to shield her eyes from the sunlight. “Come on.”

  “What did you—”

  “Shh! Not here.”

  Sirens wailed in the distance. I did a double-take and tried to relax, thinking that sirens were a normal everyday background noise in Chicago. Right?

  “Here she is,” Addy yelled. “Come on!” She pulled me into the back seat after her. “Drive, Yolanda!”

  ~*~

  In Addy’s lab, Yolanda and I hovered until the doctor told us to wait outside. Addy had recovered a bottle of the serum, after what had been apparently a more enthusiastic reunion dream on the part of poor Cole than Addy anticipated. Cole was the sole employee in the lab on Fridays due to cutbacks. Addy didn’t share the details but mentioned that while he was indisposed she managed to grab a syringe and samples of what she thought we could use as evidence.

  She came out of her lab a few minutes later, pulling off gloves. She sighed. “Well, girls, it’s the same strain as we found in Donald. I kept a sample here,” she grinned, “just in case I needed to examine it more thoroughly someday.”

  “Can we prove anything?” Yolanda asked.

  “Scientifically,” Addy said.

  “We’d better show Ripple.” I waved for them to follow me to the car.

  ~*~

  Ripple watched us from his laid-back position in his squeaky roll chair, with his hands folded across his gut.

  Yolanda did the talking. We all agreed she’d give the story the best spin, what with her powers of observation and reporting experience.

  “You’re kidding,” he said.

  “It all adds up,” I said. “You don’t need to be a detective to see where all the facts lead.”

  He gave me a tight-lipped snort and stood. Déjà vu—I knew what was next. “Please, ladies, how can I get you to understand that we have this investigation under control?”

  “Will you at least take this sample from the Merris lab into evidence?” I asked.

  Ripple pursed his mouth. “Yolanda? You tell her.”

  She hung her head. “We have only our word about where it came from,” she said.

  “But we have the security tape from the building that proves we were there. And that Dr. Weber—Cole—he knows…” My voice trailed off at the sheepish look on Addy’s face. “And the van, and Letty,” I whispered to myself. I straightened. “Well, I’m going to find Tut, anyway.” I turned and left.

  ~*~

  My plan might have worked, if I had gone to Margaret’s earlier, instead of waiting for the next day. Even if Mrs. Conklin and I were at cross-purposes for getting Tut back, I figured if we found him together, Tut would come to me first, and I could run faster. My plan had been to see if she had some recordings of Donald’s voice we could play at the entrance to the tunnels. Tut would hear it and be lured out. Pretty nifty, huh?

  Except the cops beat me to her house. Ripple had been looking for an angle all along, and if FTC problems resulted in arrest, that worked for him. Sort of like Al Capone and tax evasion. He said it gave him more time to work on the murder.

  Margaret’s telephone records were subpoenaed. Between officials who were fed up with MerriFood trade troubles, and board of director members who were sensationally annoyed at what they called being taken advantage of, the story came out in bits and pieces.

  “A trial is a long way off,” Hackman warned us during the press conference. We sat in the council chambers, where Virgil Toynsbee would take charge of the emergency government until the elections next spring.

  Television personalities from out of town were in force, cameras and reporters on microphones, electrical lines everywhere. The Bader family was absent. They were prominent in state business, and Margaret’s downfall made for big news.

  Stanley sat at my side for the show.

  “I can’t believe you were involved in all of this,” he said again. “You could have been hurt. Or killed.” He held my hand and I let him.

  Adam had not called for a while, although Marion said he had spoken to Bob.

  The reporters were allowed to question board members who were present. “So, none of you really know if Mrs. Bader killed her husband?” A reporter called from the audience. He had a notebook raised, pencil in hand. I could see another pencil stuck behind his ear.

  “That’s Mrs. Bader-Conklin,” Hackman said. “The evidence will come out at the trial.”

  Another question, this from a larger woman with an ugly hairpiece, whom I did not recognize, either: “What will happen to the money the former mayor amassed and hid from his constituents?”

  Marion nudged my ribs and rolled her eyes.

  Jeff Hanley took that one. “Nothing was hidden from the citizens of Apple Grove,” he said, with some heat. “The grant funds were awarded to Apple Grove on the basis of Mayor Conklin’s belief that Apple Grove could thrive with a little extra help. His vision for our community was that it would become an extraordinary place to live.”

  Hear, hear. Way to go, Hanley. He continued to impress the audience. I did not like him any more than I had before, but he could give a nice speech. And he had a lot to gain for his own business if Apple Grove became a thriving community once again.

  “It sounds like a campaign platform, Mr. Hanley,” a reporter shouted. “Are you running for mayor?”

  A general chuckle ensued.

  Hanley protested, mildly. “Well, I hadn’t thought about it much. Until now.”

  The conference wound down and Virgil was introduced as the temporary head of government. “Let me take this opportunity to assure you, my friends,” his voice rang out, “that we will continue to carry out the plans Mayor Conklin began. With the help of the good Lord we’ll finish that race.”

  Any other person would probably not have gotten away with that religious remark in the hallowed halls of city government, but it seemed people had a lot of faith in Virgil Toynsbee.

  I did. I clapped along with the others in the audience.

  But Tut was still missing. The longer he was gone, the less likely we’d find him, but I was sure he was important enough to not have been killed.

  26

  October was a blur of emptiness, the kids in the neighborhood had been adorable for Halloween, and then, as if the next day, the leaves were curled up on the lawn and Thanksgiving Day came and went.

  Stanley called or stopped over maybe half a dozen times. I wasn’t totally sure. We somehow wound up at Tiny’s three or four times where I couldn’t help notice the new red-haired waitress had eyes for Stanley. When I realized I was only amused and not jealous, I could laugh, which took my mind off a certain coffee shop owner for a few seconds.

  I helped Yolanda and Jim at the paper and babysat a couple of times for the neighbors. Once for the whole weekend, which made my ovaries rumble. My tech business was rolling along. People would be buying personal computers for the holidays and need me to set them up. One of the more popular avenues of service was acting as the fun
eral catch-all—as in, who was collecting what for flowers and memorials, without the donor looking nosy. I put a two-fifty charge on each order.

  The good news was, Isis and Memnet were inseparable. Addy confirmed my suspicion about why.

  But, yes, my personal life was a morass of confusion these days. For Thanksgiving I contemplated two invitations to dinner: Stanley and his parents, or my mother.

  No, the parental units could not be combined. My mother had not taken the news of Stanley’s return with her usual aplomb. In fact, I suspect she hunted up Adam to give him the good news, for he had left a guarded message one day last week, asking about Isis but making no promises to return for either of us. I chose, with righteous dignity, to ignore him. I barely managed to catch my childish mental burst of “so there” before it got all the way to my tongue.

  Janie the mail carrier heaved a case of Feli-Mix Supreme dry cat food from him onto my front stoop not long after.

  I couldn’t explain to my mother or anyone else how I felt about resuming a relationship with Stanley. There wasn’t anything wrong with him. I even felt glad for his attention to me, since nobody else of the male persuasion seemed to care. His manners remained impeccable, something I’d always appreciated. He even called me several nights of the week instead of texting, something he had never done before because of the cost, besides not having much of anything to say. I wondered if he had taken a class in self-expression. Twice he wanted to kiss me and twice I could not bring myself to let him. The visits to Tiny’s, when he was in town, ceased.

  That would have to change if our relationship was to advance. I just wasn’t sure. Stanley seemed more interested in finding out what it meant to be in love, rather than really wanting to be in love with me.