Claws of Action

by Linda Reilly

  “Moot. What a weird word.” Lara groaned. “I know you’re right about Johnson. I’m just so seriously bummed about Brian. Gideon told me he’s been raising a huge ruckus in his holding cell. They’re going to transfer him to the county jail later today.”

  “It saddens me, as well,” Aunt Fran said. “But we can’t say that we really knew Brian, can we?” She gave Lara a meaningful look. “Let’s not forget how people have surprised us in the past when their true intentions were revealed.”

  Lara didn’t need to be reminded. Memories of murderers past were never far from her thoughts.

  “I guess what bugs me most is that the whole thing was so premeditated. He risked everything for sheer revenge. If he’d killed her in a fit of rage, that would be one thing. But this—” Lara shook her head.

  Aunt Fran replaced the cover of the marmalade jar. “I suspect there’s a lot that we still don’t know. In the meantime, we have a new member of the household.”

  “Smuggles.” Lara smiled. “He’s such a sweet guy, and Snowball adores him. At least Brian brought him to the right place.”

  Aunt Fran reached over and squeezed Lara’s hand. “That’s right. That’s the unexpected blessing, isn’t it? Speaking of blessings, are you going to church with me later?”

  On Sundays, Lara and her aunt usually attended the weekly service at Saint Lucy’s. Lara preferred the noon service, because it gave her the entire morning to wind down from all the activities of the week.

  The idea of sitting in an unair-conditioned church for an hour didn’t especially appeal on a day like this. But she’d go for her aunt’s sake. She could think of plenty of people who could use a prayer or two.

  “Sure,” Lara said. “We’ll leave about twenty-five of?”

  “It’s a date.”

  Lara swallowed the last of her muffin. She wiped her hands, then rose and collected the dishes from the table.

  Today she wanted to go back to her wedding invitation project. It was starting to become an obsession. She was almost certain Sherry would be making an announcement soon. When that day came, Lara wanted to have her preliminary sketches ready to surprise her friend.

  After rinsing the dishes, Lara went into her studio. First things first: She turned on the floor fan. It didn’t give much relief, but it was better than nothing.

  The morning sun was slanting through the room’s sole window. Lara normally loved working with natural light, but today the shadows were distracting. She pulled down the shade and flicked on the overhead light.

  Perfect.

  She pulled out the sketches again and spread them over her worktable. This time she wanted to work with Renoir’s Dance in the Country directly in front of her. She wanted to glean what Renoir felt when he was creating the spectacular painting.

  Lara booted up her iPad and propped it on its stand. She went to one of her favorite art Web sites. It had links to the works of artists from many different periods. She tapped on the link to Renoir. Images of his works came up immediately.

  Renoir had always been one of Lara’s favorites. She loved his use of bold, bright colors, his masterful depiction of facial expressions. She tapped a few keys and pulled up the image of Dance in the Country. She sharpened her pencils and began to sketch.

  She’d been working only a few minutes when her cell rang. She snatched it up when she saw that it was from Glindell Veterinary Clinic.

  “Lara?” came a warm, familiar voice.

  “Yes. Amy. Is something wrong? Are the kittens okay?”

  The veterinarian laughed. “Oh my gosh, yes. The kittens are fine. That’s actually why I’m calling. We have an emergency situation going on this morning. Six Yorkie pups found in an abandoned shack. Barely four weeks old.”

  “Oh, no. The poor little darlings—”

  “It’s under control,” Amy assured her. “They’re all being cared for now. What would help tremendously is if you could pick up the kittens this morning. It would free up some space, but mostly our resources, so we can focus on the pups.”

  “The kittens are okay to leave?” Lara fretted.

  “Perfectly. No need for us to keep them till tomorrow. That little gold one that had us so worried has made incredible progress!”

  Lara smiled. “That’s Fritter. He’s a boy, right?”

  “Nope. A little girl,” Amy corrected.

  “I should have known. I’m so bad at telling boy kittens from girl kittens.”

  Lara looked at her cell. It was already quarter to eleven. She’d been working on her sketches longer than she realized.

  “Can we swing by a little after one?” she asked the vet.

  “Mmm…it sure would help if you could pick them up now.” Amy sounded stressed. “You already know the drill for young kittens—feeding, litter, all the fun stuff. I’ll wash your car and bake you a batch of coconut cookies if you pick them up now,” she kidded.

  Lara chuckled. “Not necessary, although I might take you up on those cookies. I’ll be there in a jiff.”

  She put away her supplies and closed the door to her studio. She found Aunt Fran upstairs, vacuuming her bedroom. Lara gave her a time-out signal, and her aunt clicked off the vacuum. Lara explained the urgency with the kittens.

  Aunt Fran gave her a gleeful smile. The idea of having four new kittens in the household lit up her world.

  “I’ll go with you,” she said, rubbing her hands together. “Oh, I can’t wait to see the little angels.”

  “You’re okay with skipping church?”

  “I’m fine with it. Think of how many animals we’re helping, not to mention Amy.”

  ’Nuff said, Lara thought.

  Lara went into the isolation room and took one last look around. Anticipating the kittens’ arrival, she’d already scrubbed everything and set out a fresh, shallow box of clay litter. The babies would be spending the next several days in this room, getting acclimated to their new digs.

  She’d also thrown a set of clean sheets and a lightweight blanket over the cot she kept in the room. With kittens this young, middle-of-the-night feedings were crucial to their survival. She’d be spending several nights in there with them, if not the next few weeks.

  Lara tingled with excitement. This is what they were meant to do. The reason she and Aunt Fran created this haven for cats.

  Within five minutes, she and her aunt were buckled into the Saturn and on their way to the animal clinic. Lara flicked on the AC to try to cool down the car, which already felt like the inside of a pizza oven.

  Soon they’d have their hands full of fluffy, adorable, needy kittens.

  Lara wiped her mental slate clean of bad thoughts.

  Today was all about their new charges—four little darlings who depended on them for their very survival.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Lara cupped the golden furball to her chest. “Oh, you are so sweet,” she cooed. “How did you get so adorable?”

  Aunt Fran smiled over at her, her hands wrapped gently around the kitten Kayla had named Aden. “This baby’s trying to purr, but I don’t think he’s quite there yet.” She held him up to her face and nuzzled his nose.

  “I talked to Kayla,” Lara said. “She’s bummed that she couldn’t be here to welcome the kittens.”

  “I’m sure she feels bad,” her aunt said. “But she’ll see them tomorrow.”

  After Kayla’s grandmother learned that the first “read to a cat” Sunday in the new addition was canceled, she’d commandeered Kayla into helping out with yet another family gathering. Kayla felt locked in—she’d agreed to help. She didn’t want to disappoint her gram by bailing on her at the last minute.

  Amy had guessed that the kittens were about five weeks old, which meant they were ready to be introduced to wet kitten food. Lara had set out a large plate and lined it with the high-quality brand the
y used. The kittens nibbled away at it, slowly at first and then with a bit more gusto. Two of them stepped directly into the platter and ate from there. Laughing, Lara eased them back in front of the plate to give each of the tiny felines an equal chance.

  Once the kittens had stuffed themselves, used the litter box, and were curled up in their cozy bed, Lara and her aunt backed quietly out of the room. They’d left the kittens with fresh water and a freshly scooped litter box. Lara would be checking on them often, socializing them and encouraging them to get accustomed to humans.

  Curious noses poked into the doorway, but Lara gently pushed them away.

  “You’ll get to meet the babies soon,” she told Pearl, who was itching to get in there to check out the new arrivals.

  Orca attempted an end run from Lara’s other side, but she caught the trickster in time. “That goes for you, too,” she said, scooping him into her arms. The cat reached up with one massive paw and touched her cheek. “Never mind trying to bribe me,” Lara said, kissing his whiskers. “You’ll have plenty of time to meet the newbies.” Unless you get adopted first.

  Downstairs, Aunt Fran poured each of them a glass of iced tea, then spread out the Sunday paper on the kitchen table.

  Lara took her glass into her studio. She set it down on her coaster and closed the door, determined to get back to her wedding invitation sketches.

  The moment she tapped her iPad, it sprang to life. The image of Dance in the Country was still there. Her sketches were right where she’d left them.

  For a while, she toyed with the details of the groom’s face. David’s features were pleasingly even, his eyes the color of a young fox. With his neatly trimmed hair and beard, he actually resembled the man in the painting, although David’s hair was more of a ginger color.

  Lara couldn’t begin to guess how Sherry would style her hair on her special day. The once-prominent railroad spikes that had made up her former coif had softened after she met David. These days, her friend sported a straight bob that framed her face beautifully.

  The sketches were preliminary anyway, not etched in stone. The final invitations would be done in watercolors. Lara couldn’t wait to present her ideas to Sherry. If Jill had been right, her friend was already cooking up a way to make the happy announcement.

  She switched gears and began drawing the wedding gown. Should it be straight or flowing? White or ivory? Lacy or plain?

  Lara’s pencil had barely touched the paper when her iPad flew off the table. The sudden shift in the room’s energy made her heart jump.

  There wasn’t so much as a breeze coming in. She hadn’t even turned on her floor fan. The room’s sole window was closed against the summer heat.

  Lara looked down. She wasn’t totally surprised to see the furry face of a cream-colored Ragdoll cat. Blue stared up at her, her chocolate-tipped paws resting on the tablet. She blinked at Lara once, then once again.

  Lara’s heartbeat quickened. Blue was obviously trying to tell her something. Why did her clues always have to be so cryptic?

  She bent and retrieved her iPad, setting it back on her worktable. “Ach,” she muttered to herself. “Where’s my painting?”

  Renoir’s Dance in the Country had vanished. In its place was a very different image.

  This one was a painting of a crow. A crow with strangely human features, wearing a cape and black boots.

  Lara glanced down at the spot where the tablet had fallen. Blue was gone.

  And suddenly she remembered. This was the painting of the boot-clad crow with the oddly human eyes. The same print Lara had seen in Evonda Fray’s crow-infested dining room.

  Lara pulled the iPad closer. The simple caption beneath the image read Krahe.

  Krahe.

  The word began with the letters K-R-A.

  Heart thumping, Lara rubbed her forehead with her fingers. Her head swam. A surge of heat crept up her neck, making her face feel flushed. She slugged back a gulp of iced tea, then carefully set down her glass.

  On her cell, she Googled the word “krahe.” It took only seconds for its meaning to pop up.

  It was the German word for “crow.”

  K-R-A. Those were the exact three letters Evonda had texted—or attempted to text—to her son right before she was murdered.

  Lara took in a deep breath. She had to let Tim Fray know what she’d stumbled on. It probably meant nothing, but at least he could check it out. Maybe his mom had left him a letter, or a will, or a list of her final wishes. Something she didn’t want him to read until after she was gone.

  She was glad, now, that he’d asked to exchange contact info with her. Lara pulled up the text he’d sent her yesterday, in which he’d thanked her for being a sounding board. She’d never gotten around to responding, but now she tapped out a message. As briefly as she could, she told Tim what she’d discovered.

  Disappointed when he didn’t return her text right away, Lara took another sip of her iced tea. After a quick bathroom break, she returned to her studio.

  A text from Tim was on her cell.

  Wow. Thx for this info! Can U meet me @ Mom’s in 30 so we can chk it out?

  Lara groaned. Did she really want to get involved? Evonda’s killer was in custody—that was the important thing.

  Besides, she had too much to do today. She had kittens to care for. She was also hoping to connect with Gideon later, if he could snag a few free moments.

  Lara started to text Tim an excuse why she couldn’t meet him when Blue suddenly leaped onto her worktable. The cat sat calmly, gazing at her, her turquoise eyes as serene as a cool lake.

  Her cell pinged with another text.

  I kno I’m imposing but I trust yr judgt.

  Lara stared at the message for at least a full minute. Then she texted:

  Okay. See you there.

  She shoved her cell into her pocket and left her studio. She closed the door quietly and went into the kitchen.

  Aunt Fran was reading the editorials, her reading glasses slanted on her nose. From the frown on her face, Lara suspected she was reading an opinion with which she didn’t agree.

  “Hey, Aunt Fran. I’m going to go out for a few. My eyes are crossed from sketching. Can you check on the kittens if I’m not back in an hour?”

  “Of course I can. Are you sure you’re okay? Your face is a bit flushed.”

  “I know.” She pushed her hair back with her hand. “I think I need some air. That room gets hot.”

  Her aunt raised her eyebrows. “It’s broiling outside,” she pointed out.

  “Yeah, but at least it’s real air. Not stuffy, indoor air.”

  “You don’t need to worry about the kittens,” her aunt said. “Did you forget that I’m the original cat lady?” She flashed a smile at Lara.

  “Oh, I could never forget that.” Lara plunked a kiss on her aunt’s cheek, inhaling her light, floral scent.

  Heart in her throat, she hopped inside the Saturn and headed in the direction of Loudon Street. This time she knew exactly where to go.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Less than ten minutes later, Lara pulled up in front of Evonda’s Cape Cod–style home. It really was a lovely residence. Aside from the massive crow on the front door, it looked like any other well-kept house. Evonda had kept her place in pristine form, from the neatly trimmed lawn to the graceful front entrance. The light gray steps with their white risers looked freshly painted. If Tim decided to sell, he wouldn’t have any problem finding a buyer.

  Except for the fact that a murder had been committed in the driveway.

  Grateful for the swatch of shade in which she’d parked, she shut off the Saturn’s engine. Something nagged at her, some silly thing she should have remembered. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to lasso it into her memory. But whatever it was, it had already flitted away.

  The dri
veway was empty, so she was the first one here. If Tim didn’t arrive soon, she’d have to start her car and run the AC. On a day like this, the car would stay cool only for a short time, even in the shade.

  From the depths of her tote, her cell pinged with a text. Lara fished it out. It was from Tim.

  Got held up. Key undr frog. Go inside. I’ll B there in 10.

  Lara blew out a sigh. Really? she thought. She was tempted to drive away, to let Tim know that she didn’t have time for this today.

  She glanced at the house again. Curiosity tugged at her.

  “Under the frog,” she mumbled, shaking her head. What kind of a security system was that?

  Sliding her cell into her pocket, she grabbed her tote, locked the car, and went up the front walk. Sure enough, a concrete frog crouched on the bottom step. Had it been there yesterday? She couldn’t remember.

  Lara lifted the frog and saw a brass key. Unbelievable. She scooped the key into her hand and climbed the stairs.

  What if a neighbor sees me? she suddenly wondered. What if someone calls the police?

  She quickly turned the key in the lock. The door opened smoothly, as if it had recently been oiled. Cool air instantly caressed her face. She was glad Tim had left the AC on, although it seemed like a waste of energy in an unoccupied house.

  Lara closed the door but left it unlocked. She found herself in the foyer adjacent to the dining room. A faux mahogany coatrack rested in the corner, a black umbrella dangling from one of the pegs.

  It’s too quiet in here, she thought with a shiver. If Tim didn’t arrive soon, she was going to text him that she couldn’t wait any longer and bail on him.

  But first she wanted a peek at the crow. Or the “krahe,” as it was called.

  Careful not to disturb anything, she went into the dining room. The photos Tim had been sorting the day before were gone. Had he packed them all up?

  Against one wall, several more boxes sat atop one another. Tim had obviously done more packing after she’d left yesterday. From the sideboard, the wooden crows seemed to be watching her every move.