Magical Cats Mystery 13 - Hooked on a Feline

by Sofie Kelly

  “She tried to sabotage your project.” We started walking back the way I’d just come.

  “She went out of her way to try to make sure it didn’t happen. I offered her a good price for the property—ten percent over Everett’s offer and his was more than fair. But that wasn’t the only reason I didn’t like her,” he said. “I didn’t like the way she was always trying to interfere in Lachlan’s life. He’s a good kid.”

  It was impossible not to hear the intensity in his voice and see the angry lines pulling at his mouth.

  “I know she had some pretty rigid ideas about what he should do with his life.”

  “In her mind there was a very limited list of careers for Finnamore men and anything related to music was out. I think Lachlan could have said he wanted to play for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra or the Berlin Philharmonic, and that wouldn’t have satisfied her. Jonas put up with way too much of her meddling and threats to hold back money for Lachlan’s college education. I like the guy, but he’s always been too much of a soft touch. I think he should have stood up to her. He always said he wanted to make sure that Leitha wouldn’t be able to interfere with Lachlan getting his money for college. I told him more than once that he should have told her to stuff her Finnamore money. Lachlan is really talented. Even if the old crab had somehow managed to hold back the trust money, Lachlan could get a scholarship.”

  I’d had no idea Johnny had so much animosity for Leitha. In a moment of anger, could he have done something stupid? I didn’t want to believe it.

  “You know I was at the library for the presentation the day of Leitha’s accident,” Johnny said. “I guess I shouldn’t say ‘accident’ anymore.”

  “I remember seeing you.” I wanted to ask him what he was getting at, but I’d learned that if I just let people talk, sometimes I found out more than if I asked a lot of questions. It took patience I didn’t always have.

  “Mary wasn’t the only person who had words with Leitha.” He exhaled loudly. “I did as well. It was the same old conversation about not letting me buy that building. She took great pleasure in telling me that she had sold the property to another developer.”

  “You must have been angry,” I said.

  He shrugged. “Some days you eat the bear. Some days the bear eats you. And so far the building is still standing, so you never know what might happen.”

  The intensity that had been in his voice earlier was gone and the lines in his face had smoothed out. Why was he so calm now about something that had left him so angry when Leitha was alive? Leitha meddling in her great-great-nephew’s life had gotten more of a reaction from Johnny than that deal that had fallen through.

  Johnny suddenly smiled. “We got tattoos, you know,” he said, “about a week before Leitha died.”

  “You and Mike?” I didn’t see Harry going to get a tattoo. On the other hand, I’d been learning that Harry had layers I didn’t know about.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Nothing wild. Just the sign language symbol for rock and roll.” He touched his left hip. “I have no idea how but Leitha found out. You can imagine how she reacted. Mike didn’t give a sh— Mike didn’t care. She blamed me. Mike told her it was his idea. She wouldn’t hear it.”

  “But it was your idea, wasn’t it?”

  He grinned. “Oh yeah!”

  We stopped by a bench at the spot where I’d first crossed the street to reach the Riverwalk trail. I gave Johnny the name of the reference librarian in Red Wing. “They have an excellent collection of old photographs. I think it’s the first place you should start to try to document the building’s history. I’ll call her on Monday and tell her to expect to hear from you.”

  “Thanks, Kathleen,” Johnny said. “I appreciate this.”

  “This is probably going to sound a little odd, but do you know what Mike was doing on Wednesday night for the last few months?” I asked.

  “As far as I know, working late, having supper and this time of year watching the Twins play on TV.” His eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “He’d been leaving the office on time on Wednesday and Thursday but he was only practicing on Thursday.”

  He shrugged. “So? Maybe he was seeing someone or maybe he just wanted to watch the ball game with a beer.”

  Something over my shoulder caught Johnny’s eye and his face darkened. “You can’t honestly think it had anything to do with Mike’s death. Mike wasn’t the kind of person to have secrets.” He raised his voice. “And if the police were working harder instead of manufacturing cases, maybe they’d have his killer by now.”

  Marcus joined us, putting a hand on my back. “We are working hard on Mike’s case,” he said, his face devoid of emotion.

  “Well, from my perspective, you seem to be spending all your efforts on Leitha Anderson’s death, which no one even knew was a crime. You’re wasting your time going down that road.”

  “Leitha deserves justice just as much as Mike does,” Marcus said. “And I’m going to keep working so that they both get it.”

  “Mike Bishop didn’t have an enemy in the world.” Johnny’s voice was getting angrier. “Mike made friends everywhere he went, unlike Leitha. He was ten times the person she was.” He stood with his feet apart, hands jammed in his pockets. “There were some break-ins and some vandalism to cars in the area of Mike’s house. Are you trying to find those people? Why aren’t you checking out people who got out of prison recently? Or known drug addicts?”

  I lifted a hand to touch Johnny’s arm and then thought better of it. “Marcus knows how to do his job,” I said gently.

  He didn’t look at me. “Then do it,” he said, his gaze locked on Marcus’s face.

  “I am,” Marcus said. “I’m not going to insult you by telling you to trust me, but I am looking into all of those things. And more. I give you my word.”

  Johnny couldn’t have known how serious a promise that was, but I did.

  Johnny swiped a hand over his face. The anger seemed to drain out of him. “All I care about is bringing Mike’s killer to justice.”

  Marcus nodded. “I get that. I want the same thing. But I have to put just as much effort in for everyone. Otherwise the whole system falls apart.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment; then Johnny turned to me. “Thank you for the information,” he said. He turned and headed across the grass.

  “ ‘Justice cannot be for one side alone, but must be for both,’ ” I said in a quiet voice. I knew Marcus would agree with Eleanor Roosevelt’s words.

  I watched Johnny cross the street and head into Eric’s. I turned back to Marcus. “Did it look as though Mike had walked in on a robbery, just between us?”

  He shook his head. “It did look to me as though someone might have gone through his desk. Or maybe he was just someone who had a messy desk. What bothers me is, why was he killed? If Mike had walked in on someone, why not run? None of the break-ins and vandalism out there have been anything other than stupid kids showing off, not someone who would try to rob someone’s house and then kill the owner when he surprised them. And Mike was an average middle-aged person, not some big muscular guy or a martial arts expert. Killing him seems like an overreaction when it would have been so much easier to run.”

  “Maybe the person couldn’t get away,” I said.

  “If Mike had come in the front door to the house, the thief could have gone out through the kitchen or through the French doors to the deck. Someone who was looking for a few dollars or something to sell would have panicked and gotten the hell out. It doesn’t make sense.”

  That was the problem. Everywhere I turned, nothing about this case made sense.

  chapter 15

  There’s something I need to tell you,” I said. “I’m not sure if it’s important or not.”

  “Okay. What is it?”

  “Wednesday nights, Mike was making sure to leave work on time.”

  “Because he was going out to Harry’s to practice.”

  I shoo
k my head. “No, he wasn’t. They practiced on Thursday. I checked with Harry.”

  “So he was probably just going home.”

  We headed for the street.

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “He stopped at Eric’s for takeout on those Wednesday nights. I don’t think he was going home.”

  Marcus frowned. “So you think he was doing what? Leading some kind of secret life?”

  “No. Maybe.” It sounded silly when he said the words out loud.

  “I don’t think so,” Marcus said. “I’m not saying your instincts aren’t good, but so far from what I’ve learned, Mike Bishop’s life was an open book.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I said.

  We walked over to the bookstore and got the book for Elliot and then headed to Marcus’s house. The plan was to do some yard work and figure out a permanent spot for the bench he’d bought.

  I changed my clothes and started weeding the vegetable garden. Micah perched on one corner of the raised bed, watching me, while Marcus tried to decide on the best location for the bench.

  “I thought you were going to paint it first,” I said.

  “I am,” he said as he stood in the middle of the yard, looking around. “I just want to know where it’s going to go when I’m finished.”

  I didn’t follow the logic. “Okay.” I looked at Micah, who seemed to shrug.

  “What do you think?”

  “On the deck,” I said.

  Micah meowed her agreement.

  Marcus looked around the yard again. “I think by the rosebushes,” he said, muscling the bench over the grass into place.

  “Bees,” I said.

  He thought for a moment, then moved the bench to the other side of the bed I was working in. Micah and I exchanged another look, which this time he saw.

  “What?”

  I hesitated.

  “You don’t think this is a good spot? Why?”

  “It’s not a big deal. It’s just that the ground is kind of uneven right there.”

  He pushed at one end of the seat. “There. I’ve found a level spot.”

  “Good,” I said without looking up. I knew there were no level spots on that part of the lawn.

  Marcus dropped onto the bench. It immediately canted sideways, almost knocking him to the ground. Micah walked around the edge of the vegetable bed, peered at Marcus and gave a concerned meow.

  “I’m fine,” he muttered.

  “Why don’t you try it on the deck?” I suggested.

  He moved the bench under the maple tree instead and stood back with a look of satisfaction on his face.

  Micah looked skyward, then glanced at me and meowed once more.

  Marcus shook his head. “What’s wrong with right here? There’s shade. There are no bees. The ground is level. It’s perfect.”

  Before I could answer, a bird flew overhead and made a direct hit on the center of the bench seat.

  Micah ducked her head. I bit my lip to keep from laughing and watched Marcus from the corner of my eye.

  He stood silently for a long moment. Finally, he said, “You know, I think the bench would look great on the deck.”

  I nodded. “Good idea.”

  * * *

  Later, once the weeding was done and the grass had been clipped around the flower beds, we sat on the deck steps with glasses of lemonade and lots of ice. Marcus seemed lost in thought.

  “You weren’t wrong to take a second look at Leitha’s death,” I said, “no matter what Johnny says, no matter what anyone says.”

  He put his free hand on my knee and gave it a squeeze. “Thanks. I know, but it has complicated the investigation into Mike Bishop’s death.”

  “I’m not second-guessing you, but is there any chance his death is connected somehow to those car break-ins?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not.” He ran a hand though his hair. “They’re just kids—you know that, teenagers—and more important, they have alibis for the night Mike was killed. I’m glad that Mariah Taylor isn’t hanging around with that bunch, though.”

  “She’s a bright kid,” I said, reaching for my glass, which was two steps below me between my feet.

  “There are three kids involved as far as I can tell—a girl and two boys—and I feel confident that the girl is the ring leader. She’s smart and articulate and she’s got a bit of a chip on her shoulder. She’s being raised by a single dad, and from what I could see, money is tight. We have them on the whipped cream incident and a couple of other car break-ins, but that’s as far as it goes. They didn’t have anything to do with Mike’s death.”

  “Why didn’t you tell that to Johnny? He thinks you’re not working on the case.”

  He leaned sideways, kissed my neck and straightened up again. “Because it just happened and the lawyers and the prosecuting attorney are still talking, hopefully working out some kind of a deal that involves restitution and community service. Cleaning garbage out of ditches sounds pretty good this time of year. And I think right now nothing I could say is going to make a difference to Johnny.”

  “It would be such an easy solution if you found out that Mike had been killed just by some random thief.”

  “I don’t think this case is going to be that easy,” he said.

  I leaned my head against his shoulder. Neither did I.

  Marcus kissed the top of my head. “Could you make a list of everyone you remember being at the library for Mary’s talk? I should have asked for that sooner.”

  “I can do that, but there’s no way I’ll remember everyone.”

  “I know,” he said. “But it’s a place to start.”

  We sat there for a little while longer, talking about the backyard and whether or not it need another raised bed. Finally Marcus stretched and got to his feet. “Do you want to try those veggie burgers Maggie recommended?”

  I looked at Micah, who wrinkled her nose. “No,” I said.

  “Let me rephrase.” He gave me an over-the-top smile that made me think of SpongeBob SquarePants for some reason. “Hey! Let’s try those veggie burgers Maggie recommended!”

  “Merow!” Micah said. Rephrasing had not changed her opinion.

  I laughed. “I’m willing to try them, but if they taste terrible, you have to promise we can order pizza.”

  “Deal,” he said. “And Maggie said they’re good.”

  I stood up and kissed the side of his mouth. “Maggie thinks herbal tea is better than coffee. I love her, but she’s not a reliable source of information on this kind of thing.”

  The veggie burgers were actually good. Even Micah tried a tiny bite and seemed to like them. After supper I pulled up some paint swatches on my phone and we tried to decide what color to paint the bench with Micah weighing in with her opinion from time to time. Later on, we drove out to The Brick to listen to a new band. We didn’t talk about Mike or Leitha and I tried not to think about them, either.

  * * *

  Marcus and I went out to feed the cats at Wisteria Hill the next morning.

  “Do you know if Leitha shopped online?” I asked as we drove up the hill. I was thinking out loud as much as I was talking to him.

  He shot me a quick glance. “Where did that come from?”

  “I’m just trying to work out a couple of things. Did she shop online?”

  He kept his eyes on the road but gave his head a little shake. “Lots of people in their nineties have embraced technology, but Leitha Anderson was not one of them. No computer. No tablet. No smartphone. What is it exactly that you’re trying to work out?”

  “How she ended up with potassium chloride in her system. What if she took too much by mistake?” I held up a hand before he could say anything. “Just hear me out. Leitha was stubborn and opinionated. Maybe she thought it would benefit her somehow. Potassium does help the heart and the kidneys work properly, among other things, although as far as I know, most people get enough from what they eat.”

  “I don’t disagree with your reasonin
g,” Marcus said. “But we’re still left with the same question. How did she get it? She didn’t order anything online. She didn’t buy it in town. There was no potassium chloride in her house. No charges for it on her credit card. And before you suggest she bought it in Minneapolis, when she went there, Jonas Quinn always drove her. She’d have had no opportunity to buy anything he wouldn’t have seen.”

  “Maybe she stole it,” I said.

  “You mean, from the hospital?”

  I nodded.

  He shook his head. “I had the same thought. Again, no opportunity.”

  I sighed softly.

  “Kathleen, your own timeline puts Leitha at the library for close to two hours. The medical examiner says the potassium chloride had to have been ingested there. There’s not a lot of wiggle room in that. All she had in her stomach was the partly digested cookie and tea with milk and sugar.”

  “Did she take any pills?” I knew I was reaching.

  “She took a multivitamin every day. It was a large yellow pill, not a capsule, which could have been tampered with a lot more easily. I don’t see how it could have been the source of the potassium chloride.”

  I rubbed the back of my head with one hand. This whole thing gave me a headache. “What about blood pressure medication or something to manage her blood sugar or thyroid?”

  Marcus shook his head. “There was nothing like that. The woman was as healthy as a horse. That’s why she was part of that study.”

  “I remember that when the accident happened you didn’t find any evidence that Leitha’s car had been tampered with,” I said. “That hasn’t changed?”

  He turned his head to look at me for a moment. “No, it hasn’t. Leitha’s death was not an accident, Kathleen. I wish it was. But it wasn’t. Why are you having such a hard time with that?”

  There was a knot in my stomach. “Because if someone deliberately killed Leitha, then maybe that same person also killed Mike. Maybe . . . maybe it wasn’t some random burglar who panicked.” I straightened up, linked my fingers together and rested my hands on the top of my head. “I know this is more emotion than logic talking. It’s just how I feel right now.”