by Patricia Fry
“Goodie,” Margaret said. “When?”
“Can I get back to you on that? It’s kind of hectic around here this week.”
“Okay.”
“Good.” Before ending the call, Iris said, “You know, I have an idea for the attic. I think I’ll maybe have regular stairs built for easy access and create an art room or a library.”
“Nice idea.”
Iris continued, “Or that could be where the cats live when they aren’t snuggling with guests.”
“Huh?” Margaret said. “Cats?”
“Yeah, Mavis is into cats and she wants to provide some for the guests.”
“Let me understand this,” Margaret said. “You couldn’t wait to get the cats out of the attic and now you’re bringing them back?”
“Maybe. Hey, gotta go. I’ll be in touch and we’ll see what we can find in those mysterious boxes up overhead.”
Chapter 11
“Change of plans,” Iris said over the phone to Savannah later that day.
“Oh?” Savannah said, handing Lily a baby cookie. “What’s going on?”
“Well, Melody thinks she’s feeling well enough to supervise the cat-rescue operation. Can we get in touch with your friend, Mrs. Balcomb, and get it started?”
“She is? I thought she was at death’s door. Is she going to change her mind about signing the place over to you?”
“No, I don’t think so. She is…dying. But making sure the cats are safe means a lot to her, and her doctor couldn’t see any reason why she shouldn’t have her last wish.”
“Okay, I’ll contact June right now and get back to you.” When Savannah made the call to Iris a few minutes later, she said, “Nola and Luke want to come out and place traps. Once they’ve caught some of the cats, we can arrange to meet Melody at the Kaiser place and she can watch the process as the cats are transported. She can even come out to the ranch and supervise the evaluation, if she feels up to it.”
After thinking about it, Iris said, “How about if we meet you at the cat ranch. I don’t think Melody can do both and I’d rather she see the cats in their new quarters. I think that would be comforting to her.”
“Good idea. How’s she doing?”
“She’s weak, but she wants to be involved. So let me know when you’ve caught some of the cats and we’ll meet you at Mrs. Balcomb’s place.”
****
It was a lovely morning a few days later when Iris led the way for the hospital transport people along a path at June Balcomb’s Ragsdale Cat Ranch. They stopped at a large wire pen, where some of the Kaiser cats were being housed.
“How are you feeling, Melody?” Iris asked once the wheelchair was parked in the shade and the brake was set.
“I’ve seen better days. But I’m glad I could make it out here to see the last of the Kaiser cats to their new quarters.”
“Hello,” came a voice from behind them.
“Oh hello, Mrs. Balcomb,” Iris said, turning and shaking hands with the elderly director. “This is Melody Kaiser, the keeper of the Kaiser cats.” She turned to Melody. “Melody, this is June Balcomb.”
“Thank you for caring about cats,” Melody said rather weakly.
June sat in a chair her assistant had provided next to Melody. The elderly woman nodded toward the young woman and a teen-aged boy, both who stood nearby. “Luke and Nola do most of the physical caring; I’m just a figurehead at this point.” She focused on Melody. “As you can see, we’ve managed to capture most, if not all, of the cats from your property and bring them here. With your help, we can learn which cats are attached to each other and hopefully keep them together, which ones might be destined as pets, and which ones would be most happy living their lives out in the safe pens in our wilderness area.”
“Safe pens?” Melody asked.
“Yes, can you see beyond the cat runs there? That entire area—over an acre—is secured so no cats can escape,” she chuckled and patted Melody’s hand, “even if they wanted to, and predators can’t get in.”
Nola addressed Melody. “We hope to set an example for others who rescue or care for feral cats. In the safe pens, they can live a longer, more stress-free life.”
“Marvelous. Just marvelous,” Melody said. “So they don’t have to learn to live in the elements and in fear of predators?”
“No. They’re safe, they have shelter and good food served on a regular basis, and plenty of space. We believe it’s a wonderful solution for cats that, through no fault of their own, find themselves without a home and are unwilling—or unable—to live a more…shall we say…domesticated lifestyle.”
June leaned toward Melody. “Can you tell us about your kitties? I understand they represent quite a long line of Kaiser cats.”
Melody nodded. “A lot has happened with these cats since I knew them as a child, but when I reconnected, I sort of bestowed upon them the persona of the cats I remember.” She pointed. “See that white cat right there with the spritz of orange? That’s Lulu Spritz. She looks just like Lulu, my favorite kitty from my childhood. She just might warm up to the love of a single woman in a quiet home with maybe one or two other cats. Ebony will love the terrain out there in your safe pen, unless he decides to warm up to people.” She cocked her head. “He just might. But he’ll probably do best as an only cat. I notice that he’s a loner. He’s almost always curled up under a shrub somewhere alone. That pure white cat is the current Mrs. Lincoln. Mother told me that the original Mrs. Lincoln was white—quite the artisti-cat,” she said, chuckling. “I consider that white-and-black male to be Abe Lincoln.” She turned to Iris and glanced at the others. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he is the most friendly—ever the politician.” She pointed. “Priss, that one over there licking herself, she is pure girly-girl—always preening and striking poses.” Everyone laughed when the cat lifted one back leg toward the sky and begin licking it. “The white cat on the far left—the one with the most black on him—is Dexter, named for my sweet boy from my childhood. He’s very agile, active, and slippery. In fact, I don’t know how you managed to trap him.” She smiled. “I guess he knew it was for his own good.”
Melody suddenly slumped in her wheelchair. A couple of men dressed in white approached her and one of them announced, “I think we’d better take her back.”
As they carefully and slowly wheeled her toward the waiting ambulance, Iris walked alongside her and watched solemnly as the vehicle drove off.
****
“Iris,” Savannah said, ushering her into her living room later that day. “Is something wrong?”
“I hope you don’t mind my coming a little early. I just needed a hug,” she said, falling into Savannah’s arms.
“What’s wrong? Has something happened?” Savannah asked, pulling away to look into Iris’s face.
“Melody died a little while ago.”
“Oh, Iris, I’m so sorry,” she said, hugging her again. “The two of you became friends, didn’t you?”
Iris nodded. She eased down onto the sofa and wiped at her eyes, then glanced up at Savannah, who sat on the ottoman across from her. “Yeah, surprised me. I didn’t think I could relate to the woman, but we did end up becoming rather close. Poor soul. I just don’t think she was ever the same after she learned that someone she loved killed her fiancé.”
“Did she know who it did it?” Savannah asked.
“I doubt she ever came to terms with that question. I don’t know if that was because it was too painful or if she truly didn’t know. But I think that’s what actually killed her—knowing that someone she trusted ruined her life.”
Savannah hesitated, then said, “So you are now partners with her daughter. Do you know what she’s like? Did Melody tell you much about her? Did she make it here to see her mother before she died?”
Iris shook her head. “Melody told me that she and Mavis weren’t particularly close. And no, Mavis didn’t get here in time to see her mother. She said she had a l
ot of loose ends to tie up before she could leave New York. It seemed as though Melody didn’t expect her daughter to drop everything and rush here to California. But it’s a shame the poor woman didn’t have any family with her when she died.”
“So what else do you know about Mavis other than that she wasn’t a very attentive daughter and doesn’t seem very reliable?”
Iris took a deep breath. “Melody told me a few things. She’s in her thirties. I guess she lived with her grandmother for several years.” Iris paused for a moment and seemed to be deep in thought. “She said that Mavis and Geraldine were close. They evidently had a connection that Melody didn’t quite understand.” She looked at Savannah. “I guess Melody didn’t get along all that well with her mother as she got older. She said her mother was a bit aloof, to use Melody’s word. When she noticed her daughter had the same aloofness as she grew into a teenager, she was puzzled—she told me some awful things. I don’t think she even realized she was telling me that stuff. She was just talking one evening and all of this came out. She probably forgot she told me, but I can tell you, I haven’t forgotten. I can’t believe how tortured that woman was; no wonder she lived in a virtual fantasyland.”
“You mean Melody?” Savannah asked.
Iris nodded. “She described her mother and her daughter in some of the most derogatory terms. She said she thought neither of them had been born with an ounce of compassion. However, Geraldine loved cats and so does Mavis, so I don’t know why she’d say that. She described them as heartless. She was actually glad when Mavis left home to take care of her grandmother. Melody sure didn’t want the job, and she was secretly glad to no longer live under the negativity that she felt around Mavis.”
“Gosh, and this is your new business partner?”
“Only for a while. Once we get the place up and running, I plan to turn it over to her so I can move on to other things.”
Savannah chuckled. “If you can hang on for that long.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if the woman is that difficult and if she has a disorder, as it sounds like she might, I just wonder how long you can tolerate her.”
“The way I figure it,” Iris explained, “we’ll be so busy that I won’t have to deal with her personality. Anyway, she sounded fine on the phone. I don’t think I’ll have a problem getting along with her—I’m a very different person than Melody. It just might have been her cross to bear—know what I mean?”
“Oh, here’s my aunt,” Savannah said, opening the door and inviting Margaret in. “Ready to battle the rats and raccoons in the attic?” she joked.
“And spiders,” Margaret added. She turned to Iris. “Hey, speaking of spiders, did Craig ever figure out what that spider on the rose means? The pictures they found with the dead people?”
“Um, no, not that I know of. I haven’t asked him about that. It’s probably just one of those things some killers like to leave behind.”
“Well, it must have some significance to the murderer, don’t you think so? I mean, can’t Craig do some research to find out the meaning of the picture? They found that drawing with every one of the victims, didn’t they? Was there one left with Wallace Mumford?”
Iris thought for a moment. “I’m not sure.”
After a moment, Margaret exclaimed, “Yes, there was! I remember Craig showing it to us the day they found that skeleton.”
Obviously not concerned, Iris said, “You know, Maggie, I’m actually more interested in moving forward with my project. I’d rather not focus on the ugly stuff any longer. I want to concentrate on the good in the place—the charm, the allure, the magic.”
“Pshaw,” Margaret said. “Denial, that’s what you’re in.”
“Oh, Auntie, I agree with Iris. What’s in the past is in the past. The place must have seen happy times and entertained good people. It will be beautiful when Iris finishes with it, and it deserves to be a centerpiece for fun and frolic.”
Margaret stared at her niece for a moment. “Well I, for one, will never be able to shake the thought of those dead bodies lying all over the place and even inside the house for all those years.” She shivered.
“Well, try,” Savannah ordered, standing and grabbing her jacket. “Let’s go to the attic, shall we? Maybe we’ll find some happy memories up there.”
“Hear! Hear!” Iris said, hooking her arm in Margaret’s. “Come on, naysayer, cynic…”
“Wait!” Margaret cried. When the others looked at her, she said, “Vannie, aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?”
“My baby niece.”
Savannah laughed. “She went somewhere with Michael. I think he’s taking her to the lumberyard, then to get an ice cream.”
“Oh,” Margaret said, visibly relaxing.
“So did you meet with the landscapers?” Savannah asked Iris as they stepped out of the car at the Kaiser house.
Iris’s demeanor brightened. “Yes. They seemed to have some wonderful ideas for bringing that back area to life and I just told them to go ahead and do it as quickly as they can. They seemed pretty eager to get started.”
“Can’t wait to see it,” Savannah said as they entered through the front door. She then asked, “Iris, did you fill that old lantern?”
Iris nodded. “Yes. And I replaced the wick. But look at this,” she said, picking up a new battery-operated lantern. “I bought two of these.” She handed one to Savannah. “Much better, don’t you think so?”
“Good job. You’ll probably want to take the old one out of the attic if you’ve already filled it. That could be a fire hazard,” Savannah cautioned as they reached room number four and began to ascend into the attic.
“Wow, those work much better than that flashlight you had last time,” Margaret agreed when Iris and Savannah lighted the way.
Iris gazed around the attic. “Okay, where to start…”
“Well, let’s see what’s in these boxes and under those blankets,” Savannah suggested.
“A gorgeous wool dress; look at the fabric in this thing,” Iris said, holding it up. “Looks like the rats beat us to it, though.”
“Bell-bottoms,” Savannah said, pulling a pair of black plaid ones from a box. “I think I would have liked the bell-bottom era.”
“It was cool,” Iris said. “I had several pair—loved them—and hot pants!”
“Yeah,” Margaret said, “try being a midget and wearing bell-bottoms. Hell, I couldn’t even buy mini-skirts—they were regular skirt length on me.”
“You wore mini-skirts,” Iris said. “I remember seeing you at school in a mini-skirt. You had cute legs.”
“Yeah, cute like a six-year-old. You had pretty legs. Anyway,” Margaret said, “I had to make my skirts myself or hem up those I bought.”
“Looks like most of this stuff is ruined,” Iris said. “That’s too bad. There are some great fabrics here. I wonder why they didn’t do more to protect the clothes.”
“I suppose once Melody and her mother knew her fiancé was gone and the wedding was off, they lost interest in it,” Margaret suggested.
Savannah nodded. “So they moved it all up here and closed the house.”
“Yeah, and then Benjamin disappeared,” Margaret said. She looked thoughtful when she added, “I wonder what the sequence of events actually was. Wallace supposedly went with Benjamin on a guy trip, but at some point he was put in the wall. Was that before they went on the cruise or did Wallace get whacked on the cruise and brought back here for burial in the wall?” She gazed at the others. “But Geraldine was still here, wasn’t she? Do you suppose she and Benjamin both killed him?”
“That makes more sense,” Savannah said. “How would you smuggle a dead body back here from a cruise ship?”
“How astute of you,” came a voice from behind them.
“Oh, my God,” Margaret said when she looked toward the attic opening and saw Benjamin Kaiser staring at her from t
he ladder.
“What do you want here?” Iris asked in her most authoritative manner. “If it’s money you want, we found it and it’s been returned. Besides, I imagine you’re on the most-wanted list, Mr. Kaiser, since the authorities know about all your dead bodies.”
“My dead bodies? Now, don’t jump to conclusions, ladies. Too many people over the years have jumped to conclusions.” He glared at Iris. “Have you met my daughter?”
“What?” Iris said.
“She’s a psychopath. Did you know that? I’ve spent most of my life keeping her out of trouble. She didn’t tell you that, did she? To this day, I’m her keeper. Without me she’d be…”
“Are you talking about Melody?” Iris asked quietly. “You know she’s dead, don’t you?”
“Yeah, that’s what she’d like you to believe.”
“What are you saying?” Iris screeched.
“Did you see the body? They didn’t let you see the body, did they? Did you watch her take her last breath?”
“But she signed over the place…”
The old gentleman laughed heartily. “Yeah, she signed it over to her fiancé, before she killed him, and her best friend, her lover, the gardener…it’s a little game she plays. She likes playing games—has since she was a child. But ever since her favorite nanny drowned in that awful accident, her games have become more deadly.”
The three women stared at the man, their eyes wide. Finally Iris said, “I think you’d better go.”
Meanwhile, Margaret was looking around inconspicuously for something she could use to protect herself with. When she spotted the old lantern among the boxes of clothes, she started to move in that direction.
“Stay where you are!” Mr. Kaiser shouted, brandishing a small pistol. When he saw the women look at it, he laughed. “It may not look impressive, but I promise you, it shoots straight and it’s deadly.” He gestured with the gun. “Now all of you move back…move to the back of the room.”