A Cat to Kill For

by Greg Miller

  Fearing a shot from behind, Gavin kept the pedal to the floor, accelerating toward a fast approaching turn at the end of the straight. He braked hard to take the corner, but immediately felt the car understeer as the tires lost grip on the pitched and gritty road surface. He tried to correct it, but there was nowhere to go. The car ran wide, drifting off the shoulder, and clipping the guardrail.

  The impact deployed the airbags in their faces as the car spun. The Jaguar slid backward across the road until it slammed, rear end first, into a tree, demolishing the back half of the car in a cloud of dust and dirt.

  CHAPTER 14

  In the dimly-lit apartment, Gavin and Emily were huddled together on the couch. His pistol sat beside a bottle of brandy on the coffee table before them.

  “I’m so glad we’re back here and safe,” she murmured, resting her head on his chest.

  “We’re lucky to have walked away from it,” Gavin said. “I’m still mad at myself for taking that corner too fast.”

  “You got us past the shooter, and you could barely see through the windshield. I think it was some amazing driving.”

  He glanced down at her. “I’m impressed with how calm you’ve been. I think I may have been more shaken up than you.”

  “It’s strange. My body feels numb, but my mind seems unaffected. It’s probably emotional shock.” She twisted to look up at him. “Do you think we should have been more honest with that police officer and told him the whole story?”

  “I was so rattled.” Gavin sighed. “I just wanted to deal with the insurance and have time to think about everything; time to discuss it with you.”

  “We have enough to get the police involved now, don’t you think? We have a motive with the car, we have the threatening note, and, with the windshield, we have proof that someone tried to kill us.”

  Gavin nodded. “It was bird shot, so I don’t think he was really trying to kill us. But, yes, I think there’s more than enough.”

  “What do you think the police will actually do if we go to them?”

  “That’s a good question. I’m sure they’d tell us to quit playing detective and let them handle it. Hopefully, they’d investigate everyone in the club. They’d be able to do it properly, unlike us.”

  “If we look at this logically, Dennis, Armando, and Peter weren’t at the winery, so one of them had to have been the shooter. And, of those three, only Peter had the opportunity to leave the note – so the evidence now clearly points to Peter.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Gavin said. “Whoever it is could have gotten someone else to shoot at us, and they could have left the note, too.”

  Emily sat up, staring at him. “Do you have some kind of psychological block when it comes to believing that Peter could have done it?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Because he’s a prominent Jaguar authority and you admire him.”

  “Admire him?” Gavin shook his head. “I suppose I might feel a certain amount of admiration for his knowledge and work, but that doesn’t mean I automatically trust him. I’m just not sure that a simple process of deduction is going to work. Whoever it is, isn’t a fool, and seems to have a lot of confidence in himself. I think he’d probably have anticipated our going to the police, and covered his tracks pretty thoroughly.”

  “Hmm.” She frowned. “You may be right about that. So you don’t think the police would be of any real help?”

  “Not if they’re only going to investigate the obvious. But, if they can’t figure out who it is either, they might have us sell the car, like I suggested, then track down who ends up with it. I still think that’s going to be the best way to catch him.”

  Emily’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not selling the car. I wouldn’t trust them not to lose it, and then where would we be?” She wrinkled her nose. “Do you think Detective Terrick would be the one handling it?”

  “Probably.” He shrugged.

  “Well, I definitely wouldn’t trust him not to bungle it.”

  Gavin furrowed his brow, staring off for a moment.

  “I don’t think the police would offer us much protection either. Do you?”

  He shook his head.

  “So I guess there isn’t much point in going to them.”

  “Not yet,” Gavin said.

  “We need to anticipate his next move.”

  Gavin nodded. “Well, I think that might be to try to lure us into some kind of a trap. And if it is, he may give himself away.”

  Emily shivered, glancing at the pistol on the coffee table. “I’m really glad you have that gun.”

  Emily sat behind her desk in the office, staring at the clock on the wall. The minute hand reached half past four. She got up and took long strides down the hallway. “Gavin!” she called from the shop doorway. “We need to leave now.”

  “I’ll be right there,” he called back. When he looked up from the MG’s engine compartment she was already gone. “Gus, can you lock up later? We have this fancy dinner up in Syracuse tonight, and I need to run home to change.”

  “No problem,” Gus replied.

  “Drive safe,” Daryl said.

  Gavin stared at him. “That isn’t funny, Daryl.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be funny.” Daryl frowned. “I’m concerned.”

  Gavin’s eyes narrowed. “Just worry about yourself, alright?”

  “Jeez, okay!” Daryl left, shaking his head.

  Gavin went to the sink to wash his hands.

  Gus stomped after him. “Before you leave I want you to tell me what the hell’s going on. You haven’t been yourself since that accident, and neither has Emily. You’ve been ill tempered and a real pain in the ass to deal with. I’ve about had it with you.”

  Gavin turned from the sink, exhaling a long breath. “I’m sorry. I’ve been really stressed out.”

  “I don’t want an apology,” Gus said. “I want you to tell me what’s going on!”

  Gavin rubbed his temples, then looked to make sure that Daryl wasn’t around.

  “Alright.” He sighed. “The real reason for the accident was that someone took a shot at us … it destroyed the windshield, and I crashed after getting past him.”

  “Jesus Christ!” Gus said, rolling his eyes. “So someone tried to kill you.”

  “It turned out to be birdshot, so I think it was intended as a warning. We received a threatening note before that.”

  “From someone in that club?” Gus groaned. “That’s where you’re going again, tonight … I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.” He shook his head. “What kind of a fool are you?”

  Gavin looked at the floor.

  “Alright,” Gus said, lifting his chin. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to quit that club, and get rid of that car. We’re locking up right now, and you’re both coming down to the pub with me to talk, because I need a drink.”

  Gavin looked up. “I couldn’t quit now if I wanted to, because I know she won’t.”

  Gus huffed. “You know, Emily’s not the crazy one, you are! And if I can’t reason with you, I’ll have to go and talk some sense into her!” He started to turn.

  “Please …” Gavin said. “I’ve already tried. She won’t listen and you’ll just upset her. Andrew was everything to her. She won’t sell it and she won’t give up.”

  Gus looked him in the eyes. “Can’t you see that you’re everything to her now? Damn it – what happens if you get killed?” he said. “Why didn’t you listen to me? I told you it was bad luck. I told you not to go looking for trouble. Remember? Why didn’t you listen to me?”

  Emily was at the doorway again. “Gavin, come on. We’re going to be late!”

  He put a hand on Gus’ shoulder. “We’ll be alright. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Gus … I promise.”

  “It looks l
ike quite a posh place,” Gavin said as they drove through the gated entrance, toward a sprawling Elizabethan-style manor house. “I suppose it should be, for what it costs.”

  “And we aren’t even here to enjoy ourselves.” Emily frowned.

  In the crowded parking lot, they passed some very expensive cars. In addition to the Jaguars, there was a wide assortment of new luxury sedans. They saw men in well-tailored suits accompanied by women in evening gowns, all making their way toward the entrance.

  “It’s certainly brought out the most affluent club members. The sort we haven’t encountered before.”

  After finding an empty spot, Gavin climbed out of the Morgan. He brushed off his suit before going around to the passenger side, where he helped Emily extricate herself from the low-slung seat.

  She struggled to stand, wearing an ankle length yellow dress with a white jacket and pearls. Teetering on high heels, Emily’s eyes were level with his.

  “You look great,” he said in an emotionless voice.

  “You do too,” she replied without a smile.

  “Hey there,” a voice called from a few cars away.

  They turned to see Dennis waddling toward them with a notebook in hand.

  “Good to see you,” he said, then noticed Gavin’s car. “Wow, nice Morgan. Where’s your Jag?”

  Gavin forced a smile. “We had an accident.”

  “Not a bad one, I hope?”

  Emily’s eyes narrowed.

  “Pretty bad,” Gavin replied. “It’s totaled.”

  “Oh, that’s terrible,” he said. “I’m glad to see you’re both alright.” Dennis lifted his notebook, smiling at them. “Sorry, I’ve got to run. Bill needs the guest list, pronto.”

  Emily frowned as they watched him rush off.

  “That was strange. He’s never greeted us like that before.”

  Gavin nodded. “Very strange.”

  He took her hand and they followed the brick path to the entrance. Once inside, they continued through the foyer, and into the expansive oak-paneled banquet hall which had a coffered ceiling and checkered marble floor. Emily cringed as they entered the crowded and noisy space, full of unfamiliar faces, while Gavin scanned the dining area.

  They spotted Armando making his way toward them, but then, suddenly, he turned and started walking the other way, disappearing completely into the crowd.

  Emily pulled back her chin. “That was quite strange, too, don’t you think?”

  Gavin bit his lip. “I’m not sure if he saw us or not. I’d like to know why he didn’t meet us at the winery.”

  “Do you think that he and Dennis could be in on it together?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing would surprise me.”

  Venturing further into the room, they spotted Bonnie and Jay at one of the round, linen-draped tables. Bonnie stood up, waving for them to come over. They made their way through the crowd to where they were seated, just across from a DJ who was setting up in the corner.

  “You both look great as always.” Bonnie smiled.

  Gavin shook Jay’s hand as Emily stared at the place card on the table.

  “You’re sitting with us,” Jay said. “So’s Peter – if he shows.”

  Gavin forced a smile.

  “There’s an open bar,” Bonnie said, raising her wine glass.

  “And they have a pretty good selection of beer,” Jay added, lifting his tankard.

  “Sounds good,” Gavin said. “We’ll go get something – be back in a minute.”

  “I’m glad they’re behaving normally,” he said, as they headed toward the bar on the other side of the room. “I was beginning to wonder if they might all be in on it.”

  “That’s no joke,” Emily whispered. “I’ve been contemplating that possibility, and it’s making me very paranoid.”

  “Just some club soda and a coke, please,” Gavin told the bartender while sticking a few dollars into the cup on the counter.

  Emily poked him in the side. “Here comes Peter.”

  He turned to see Peter wandering into the dining hall, looking around with bewildered eyes.

  “Peter!” Gavin called, just loud enough to get his attention.

  He stopped short and came over to them.

  “Gavin, Emily. Good to see you here.” He smiled.

  Emily’s eyes widened.

  “Her name’s Gwen!” Gavin said. “Please don’t forget.”

  “Oh, right.” Peter cringed. “Sorry. I promise I won’t.”

  Gavin stared at him for a moment. “Can I get you a drink while I’m here?”

  “Sure. Thank you,” he replied. “A Bloody Mary, please.”

  They got their drinks and moved to a quieter spot near the fire exit. Peter took a look around, not wanting to be overheard. “Have there been any developments since we last spoke?”

  “There’ve been a few,” Gavin said. “We’ve pretty much ruled out Bonnie and Jay.”

  Peter cocked his head. “You have? But what about the Chevy engine business?”

  “Jay said he was only teasing you.”

  “And you believed him?” Peter frowned.

  “At this point,” Gavin said, “there are others who we’re more suspicious of.”

  “Well.” Peter snorted. “You’re entitled to believe whatever and whoever you want, but I don’t think you should rule out anyone completely.”

  “We haven’t,” Gavin said, fixing eyes with him. Emily leaned forward, studying his face. Peter pulled away from her, turning to Gavin.

  “Do you own a shotgun, Peter?”

  “A shotgun? Me? No. Why?”

  “Someone almost killed us with one.”

  Peter choked. “Oh my Lord! And you think it was me?”

  Gavin shrugged a shoulder. “We can’t rule out anyone completely.”

  Peter took a deep breath, nodding. “I suppose I’d want to test you, too, if the positions were reversed. You’ve confided in me, and I’m grateful for that.”

  Gavin noticed Bill, holding a microphone at the DJ’s desk, from the corner of his eye. “We should probably get back to our table.”

  Emily grimaced as a screech of feedback came over the PA system, followed by Bill’s voice: “Good evening. Welcome, friends and fellow Jaguar enthusiasts, to our club’s Gala Dinner.”

  Cocktail piano music played softly over the speakers, and the waitress had brought out their appetizers. Gavin watched as Bill and Nicole conversed with Dennis a few tables away. Armando had returned and taken a seat with them.

  Emily looked around the room, listening to all of the incoherent chatter, and grimaced.

  “Are you working on any new articles, Peter?” Jay asked.

  “Actually, I am,” Peter said, looking up from his Bloody Mary. “I’ve been researching Bob Tullius and the history of the old Group 44 team for a new book.”

  “Who?” Jay smirked.

  Peter rolled his eyes.

  “I’m kidding. It should make for a great story.” Jay laughed. “You need to lighten up a little – I can’t believe you didn’t know I was only teasing you with that Chevy engine stuff.”

  Peter lifted his nose and returned a twisted smile. Gavin glanced at the oak paneling, and up at the enormous wrought iron chandelier. “This is quite a place, Bonnie. Did you and Jay choose it?”

  “God, no.” She laughed. “The gala dinners are Nicole’s thing. She always picks the most extravagant and expensive places.”

  “It is damn pricey.” Peter grumbled.

  “Did you ever find out why Armando wasn’t able to meet us at the winery?”

  “No,” Jay said. “I’ve only spoken with him briefly and forgot to ask.”

  Gavin noticed Emily staring at the tablecloth and whispered in her ear. She shook her head, continuing to look down.
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br />   “Is she alright?” Bonnie asked.

  Gavin nodded. “She just has a headache.”

  Their meals arrived and Emily picked at her Cornish hen, while Gavin ate his salmon. By the time they’d finished their cake, the DJ had started playing cheesy dance tunes from the 1980s, and some of the couples were taking to the floor.

  “Let’s dance, Jay,” Bonnie said, scraping the last bit of icing from her plate and pulling the fork from her lips.

  Jay’s eyes filled with dread as she dragged him from his seat to the opening notes of Devo’s Whip It.

  “You coming?” Bonnie smiled.

  Emily’s eyes widened and she shook her head.

  “Maybe later.” Gavin gulped.

  “You’re no fun.” She frowned, leading Jay off.

  Gavin leaned toward Emily. “Feeling any better?”

  “A little,” she said. “I’ve been on sensory overload.”

  “Do you want to go outside?”

  “No,” she said. “I’m managing it.”

  They glanced over at the other table. Dennis nodded and smiled back as Armando, sitting beside him, tried to avoid eye contact, looking down at his drink instead.

  Emily made a pained face. “They’re really beginning to freak me out.”

  Gavin furrowed his brow. “I don’t know if we’re just imagining things with Armando, but I think we should try and find out more about him, regardless. You said he has an E-Type we haven’t seen. Right?”

  Emily nodded. “A green Series 1.”

  Gavin turned to Peter, who was agape as he watched Bonnie and Jay jumping around on the dance floor.

  “Peter, do you happen to know if Armando’s green E-Type has matching numbers?”

  “No, I don’t,” Peter replied. “But he sold that car.”

  “He did?”

  “It was a beautiful example.” Peter smiled. “I hadn’t seen him bring it out for a while, and when I asked him why, he told me he’d sold it.”