Six Cats a Slayin'

by Miranda James

  I watched it once, amused to see that the camera had captured close-ups of my chest. Not so amused, however, to see the size and shape of said chest. Toned, I was not.

  Half an hour later, finished with dinner, I was cleaning up after myself in the kitchen when my cell phone rang. After hastily wiping my hands on a dish towel, I grabbed the phone off the table and read the caller ID.

  “Hi, son, how is Alex?” I said.

  “Doing better. She’s home,” Sean said. “She’s slept for over twelve hours, and even though she’s a bit disoriented from some of the meds, I think she’s a little better mentally.”

  “That’s great,” I said. “Do you think she’s in any condition to have visitors?”

  “Maybe by tomorrow evening,” Sean replied. “Right now, they’re keeping her calm with medication while we try to build her up again. I guess I hadn’t realized how much weight she’d lost. She hadn’t reached the point of malnutrition yet, but she was too close.”

  I had noticed the weight loss, and it had worried me, but recently Alex had taken to brushing off any inquiries about her appetite and her general state of well-being. I could only be thankful that she was now getting the care she needed.

  “You need to catch up on your sleep, too, you know.”

  “I’m going to after dinner,” Sean said. “Cherelle wants to make a run home to pick up some clothes and a few other things, so I’m going to take care of Rosie while she does that. I’m going to cook myself a steak, microwave a big potato, load it up with sour cream, butter, and cheese, and have a feast. Have you had dinner yet?”

  “Yes, and as good as it was, yours sounds better,” I said with a laugh. “Enjoy your meal, and give my beautiful Rosie a few kisses from her old grandpa.”

  “Will do, Grandpa,” Sean said. “I’ll call you sometime in the morning with another update.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be praying for more good news. Good night.” I ended the call.

  Satisfied that I had properly tidied the kitchen, I turned out the light and went to the living room to have a look at the kittens. Diesel and I watched for a few minutes while they tumbled and tussled with one another. They seemed perfectly happy in their corral.

  In the den I settled on the sofa with Diesel stretched out beside me. I had recorded a program from one of the cable channels that I wanted to watch. I hoped a documentary on recent archaeological discoveries in Egypt would interest me enough to help me keep my mind off worries about Alex, concern for Milton and Tammy, and my interest in the murder case. Thanks to the writer Elizabeth Peters, I had become fascinated with ancient Egypt years ago.

  I became engrossed in the documentary, and time slipped by. I checked my phone a couple of times, but no new video appeared. Perhaps the child wouldn’t come to check on the kittens until the morning. She ought to be home getting ready for bed. It was nearly nine o’clock.

  Helen Louise called at nine thirty. The documentary had ended a few minutes before, and I was surprised that she called earlier than usual. When I mentioned this, she explained that two of her evening staff were closing the bistro tonight.

  “I’m glad you got away early,” I said. “I know you’re tired.”

  “About the same as usual,” Helen Louise replied. “Do you have any update on Alex? I’ve been praying that whatever treatment they’re doing is already making a difference.”

  “I talked to Sean a few hours ago,” I said. “Alex is home now. Sean seems to think she has improved. She slept for over twelve hours, he said.”

  “I’m so glad,” Helen Louise said. “I’ve been so worried about her. I tried talking to her one day last week, but she got upset, almost hysterical, and it was all I could do to calm her down again. She kept talking about Rosie being colicky. She seemed so worried that the baby wasn’t getting enough to eat. It’s a good thing Sean acted when he did.”

  “I’ve been worried, too. I would never tell Sean this, of course, but I had hoped he would do it sooner, before Alex got quite this bad,” I said. “But I think she finally frightened him badly enough he did what had to be done.”

  “To be fair, I don’t know that Sean was thinking all that clearly himself,” Helen Louise said. “From what I gathered, he wasn’t getting more than a few hours’ sleep a night. That kind of sleep deprivation can wreak havoc with your thinking processes.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” I said. “He was not in the best shape himself last night when I got there. Thank the Lord that Azalea’s cousin’s daughter Cherelle was looking for a job. Sean says she’s great with Rosie.”

  “I believe that’s Lurene’s daughter,” Helen Louise said. “She worked for me for one summer a few years ago, and I was sorry when she left. Hard worker, always on time, learned quickly. But she left when school started again. She had saved enough money to get her through the school year, and she wanted to concentrate on her education.”

  “She seems to have a way with babies,” I said, “and for that I’m powerfully grateful.”

  “Change of subject here,” Helen Louise said. “What’s the latest on Gerry Albritton’s murder? I’ve been itching to call you all day, but we were too busy.”

  I brought her up-to-date on my discovery of Gerry’s house purchases, my conversations with Kanesha and Melba, and my spotting Jincy Bruce coming out of the building where Jared Carter had his dental practice. I did not mention my conversation with Milton Harville. He had spoken to me in confidence, and I didn’t feel comfortable sharing that with anyone, not even Helen Louise, until Milton either told Kanesha about it or gave me permission to tell her.

  If Milton had talked to Kanesha, the investigation might soon end. If Kanesha determined that Tammy was the killer, that is. I hoped Milton had made the call, but I had no way of knowing unless he told me himself or Kanesha shared the news. I considered going by the pharmacy the next day to check in on Milton. He would surely tell me then, unless he was afraid to face me after his confession today.

  What would I do if I found out he hadn’t called Kanesha?

  TWENTY-FIVE

  Wrestling with that question and the ethical dilemma it posed kept me tossing and turning in the bed for a couple of hours. Diesel, disturbed by my restlessness, meowed a few times and sat by my shoulder. Finally, he jumped off the bed and trotted out of the room. I figured he was going downstairs to visit the kittens and give me time to settle down.

  I didn’t want to violate Milton’s confidence, although he had never asked me not to tell anyone else. If Tammy hadn’t killed Gerry, then what she did that night was none of my business. That was a matter for her and Milton to work out. If, however, Tammy had killed Gerry, she should be arrested, and the due process of the law would follow. At least the court might take her long history of addiction issues into account during the trial and particularly the punishment phase.

  I finally decided that I would go see Milton again in the morning and talk to him. If he hadn’t called Kanesha, I would urge him to do so. If he refused, then I would have to tell him that I felt I had no choice but to talk to her myself. Unless she told me that she had solved the case and was confident that she had identified the murderer, I would have to reveal what I knew about Tammy.

  With that decision made, I was finally able to settle down and go to sleep. When the alarm went off at the usual time the next morning, I woke with a slight headache from the tension in my neck and shoulders. Diesel had returned sometime during the night. He regarded me sleepily when I sat up and turned on the bedside light.

  I checked my phone to see if I had missed an announcement for a new video, but I had not. Perhaps the child would appear this morning. I wondered if the app could be set to ping when it started recording, not only when it finished. I would text Frank later to ask. I should have thought of it sooner. If it pinged when it started recording, and I was home, I might be able to get to the door in time to see the child dire
ctly.

  I could take my time this morning. Normally I would have to get ready for my volunteer day at the Athena Public Library. The library was closed today until after Christmas, however, so I had a free day. I had a few last-minute errands to run, in addition to a stop by the pharmacy to talk to Milton, but I didn’t have to rush out the door as early as I usually did on a Friday.

  I pulled on a robe over my gym shorts and T-shirt and headed downstairs for coffee. Azalea would arrive soon to cook breakfast. Besides coffee, I wanted to feed the kittens and take care of their litter boxes right away. Thankful for automatic coffeemakers, I poured myself a mug and doctored it with the usual mix. After a few sips I felt able to face the kittens and their litter boxes.

  Ten minutes later I was done with kitten care. Diesel refused to come out of the cage when I finished. I left him with the playful quintet and went to fetch the newspaper. The note I had left last evening remained in place. Back in the kitchen, mug in hand, I ignored the ping from my phone. I was in no hurry to see a video of my bathrobe-clad self.

  Azalea arrived soon after, while I was still engrossed in the newspaper—the comics, actually. I was one of the dinosaurs who still enjoyed reading the newspaper in print every morning. I discovered that Azalea already knew about Alex’s progress in the hospital. Sean had told Cherelle, Cherelle had told her mother, and Lurene had told Azalea. The small-town grapevine at work.

  Azalea, knowing that I wasn’t working today, made biscuits for breakfast. By the time they were ready, Stewart and Haskell, fresh from the gym, joined me at the breakfast table. I asked Haskell how the investigation was progressing. I knew any information he shared would be only whatever Kanesha approved. I was intrigued when he mentioned that they had a new lead.

  “Someone called yesterday to give information that might be pertinent to the case,” Haskell said. “Kanesha will be following up on it today.” He regarded me blandly, and I wondered whether he was referring to Milton Harville, who might have told Kanesha he had talked to me before calling.

  “That’s good,” I said. “I hope it will lead to an arrest, if it’s really pertinent.”

  “You know my boss,” Haskell said. “She doesn’t get excited over anything. This new lead could be a blind alley. Until she has the autopsy and toxicology reports, she can only do so much.”

  “Once she knows how Gerry was killed,” I said, “that should narrow down the suspects, I should think. It would be a matter of who had access to the particular poison used, right?”

  Haskell nodded. “We can make an educated guess. A couple of witnesses saw her take the last drink from the glass and her reaction. Whatever it was, it hit her fast.”

  Haskell probably knew more than he was telling, but I wouldn’t press for details. If Kanesha hadn’t wanted me to know even as much as he had shared a moment ago, he wouldn’t have told me. My heart sank, however, because it sounded to me like cyanide poisoning, and I remembered Milton’s confession that Tammy knew how to make it herself. Looked to me like the evidence was piling up strongly against her.

  Haskell drained his coffee and pushed back his chair from the table. “Thanks for breakfast, Azalea,” he said. “I’m ready to face the day at work now.” Azalea acknowledged his thanks with a brief smile, and Haskell headed upstairs to dress.

  “What’s on your agenda today, Charlie?” Stewart asked.

  “I have a few errands to run, last-minute stuff for Christmas,” I said. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “No, I’m good,” Stewart said. “I’m not planning to get out of the house today, except maybe a quick run to campus to pick up something in my office. I’ll be happy to keep an eye on Diesel, if you’re not planning to take him. The kittens, too, of course.”

  “Diesel will be staying here. Thanks, I appreciate that,” I said. “I’m sure Azalea will be pleased, too. One less thing I have to burden her with.”

  “The Lord knows I surely don’t mind checking on those babies from time to time,” Azalea said on her way out of the kitchen to head upstairs.

  Stewart grinned at me. “Lo, how the mighty have fallen. I’d be willing to bet she’ll adopt one of those kittens.”

  “That’s a sucker bet.” I smiled back at him. “I won’t be gone more than about an hour and a half, I think, so you won’t be on duty all that long.”

  “No problem,” Stewart said. “Take as long as you want. When are you going?”

  “Not for a while,” I said. “The stores won’t be open until nine. I want to get in and out as quickly as I can. I’m sure things will be chaotic because of other last-minute shoppers like me.”

  “Tomorrow will be much worse,” Stewart said. “Be thankful you don’t have to enter a mall to do your shopping. It will be hard enough to find parking spaces on and around the square today and tomorrow.”

  “Yes, it will.” I grimaced. “I don’t know why I put myself through this every year. You’d think I’d have learned by now to get things done sooner so that I didn’t have to deal with the crowds and parking issues.”

  “There’s always next year.” Stewart laughed and pushed back his chair. “Shoot me a text when you get ready to leave. I’ll be upstairs until then.”

  “Will do,” I said. By force of habit I got up and started to clear the table. Then I realized I should stop. When Azalea was in the house, the kitchen especially was her domain. Any cleaning to be done, she insisted on doing. Though it pained me not to pick up after myself, I knew better than to cross Azalea. I couldn’t bear that one expression she had that made me feel like a no-good ten-year-old who’s just been caught stealing from the cookie jar.

  By five after nine I was ready to sally forth. I texted Stewart to let him know I was leaving, told Azalea I should be back in plenty of time for lunch, gave Diesel a few scratches on the chin, and then made for the car.

  My first stop took me to the square and the independent bookstore, the Athenaeum. The owner, Jordan Thompson, had notified me by e-mail that the books I had ordered had come in. Since they were intended as Christmas presents, I had to pick them up today if I wanted to get them all wrapped and ready to go under the tree tomorrow. Luckily I found an empty parking spot near the bookstore.

  I spent an enjoyable half hour in the Athenaeum. I chatted with Jordan when she wasn’t helping other customers, and as usual, I left with more in my bags than I had intended to buy. Jordan always had such excellent suggestions, and I almost always succumbed. She hadn’t steered me wrong yet.

  Among the purchases in the two large bags I took out of the store were board books for my grandchildren. Neither was even a year old yet—they were only a few months old, in fact—but I believed it was never too early to start reading to your children. My wife and I had read to Sean and Laura when they were infants and well after the time they were able to read for themselves. Books were important to us, and our children loved books and reading, also. Both were excellent students in school, graduating near the top of their respective classes, and I was convinced that being lifelong readers had played a big part in that success.

  Next I went to the pet supply store, where I spent another half hour, if not slightly more, browsing for cat toys for Diesel and the kittens. I knew some would think me foolish for buying Christmas presents for the cats, but I probably wouldn’t like those people anyway.

  I had intended my final stop to be a department store, where I could purchase perfume for Helen Louise. I knew her favorites, and I knew the department store would have them. I decided to go to the pharmacy instead because Milton carried similar stock. The perfume purchase would serve as a good reason for my going there.

  This stop brought me back to the square. My parking luck had run out. I finally found a spot on one of the side streets, a good five-minute walk from the square. I put my purchases in the trunk, a habit acquired long ago in Houston, where you didn’t dare leave things in plai
n sight. I hadn’t heard reports of car break-ins during the holidays in Athena, but I didn’t want to have to report one on my own behalf.

  The pharmacy wasn’t crowded, but there were a good dozen other shoppers roaming the aisles. I located the two fragrances that I knew Helen Louise preferred, chose the bottles, and took them to the pharmacy counter to pay, instead of the counter near the front door. Jenny Harville waved to me from the dispensing area, and an assistant rang up my purchases. From what I could see, Jenny had a strained look, as if she hadn’t slept well. I didn’t see Milton anywhere.

  After I paid the assistant for my purchases, I stepped to one side to let the next customer take my place. I observed Jenny for a moment. I hated to interrupt her, but if Milton was here, I wanted to talk to him. I called to Jenny, and she looked up inquiringly.

  “Is Milton here this morning?” I asked.

  “No, he’s not.” Jenny came from the dispensing area and moved a few steps toward the counter. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

  “No, it’s your father I really need to talk to. Do you know when he’ll be in?”

  “I’m not sure.” Jenny regarded me for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. She walked all the way to the counter, then toward the end, away from the cash register. I moved down.

  Jenny spoke in a low voice. “I think Dad must have told you about my mother.”

  I nodded. “He confided in me yesterday.”

  “He’s at the sheriff’s department with her. He told her she had to go with him, or he would call the police to come to the house and pick her up.” Jenny looked suddenly miserable. “I can’t let myself believe that Mother would deliberately poison somebody, but she has these rages, and we can’t do anything with her. I’m afraid she’s going to jail.”

  “I’m so sorry, Jenny,” I said, my heart aching for her. “I know this is tough, but your father really had no choice. I don’t want to believe that Tammy killed anyone, either. If she didn’t do it, Kanesha will not hold her responsible. This experience might scare your mother enough to do something about her problem.”