The Cat, the Collector and the Killer

by Leann Sweeney

  I saw her features relax a tad. “No. Far from it. These could be important and I am certainly happy we have the pages.”

  “What’s your best guess on why these particular pages were torn out and hidden?” B.J. asked.

  I said, “Though she was muddled thanks to that tumor, Minnie did have moments where she was almost lucid. Maybe she knew something wasn’t right about Chester and wanted to document it as best she could.”

  “That makes sense even if these pages don’t.” Candace still appeared a little troubled by the delayed discovery.

  But I was grateful Tom had made her at least feel a little better.

  It was clear to me he was the right the person for the police chief job. If he were my boss, I’d ecstatic. But, of course, he wasn’t my boss. Our relationship didn’t have one.

  Twenty-three

  Since new evidence had been found, Tom, Candace and B.J. took off for the police station. I gathered the trash we’d accumulated and took it with me, but as I drove down Main Street toward home, I saw Kara’s car parked in front of Belle’s Beans. I pulled into a spot not far from her SUV.

  The day had started out shrouded in fog, but the sun shined brightly now. This pleasant, clear weather made me feel cheerful despite the unsettling events of the last few days. Or maybe it was the smell of coffee as I approached the entrance to the café that was having that effect. I loved this little spot of heaven.

  I headed straight to the counter and ordered a decaf latte before turning to look for Kara. I found her toward the back of the room, deep in conversation with Liam and Captain Osborne. As I approached I saw that Osborne wore a polo shirt with the sheriff’s department logo on the chest. I assumed they were discussing Brenda’s accident, since Kara had her tablet sitting in front of her on the table.

  “Hey there,” I said when I was practically standing over them.

  They all looked at me and Kara stood to give me a hug. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

  Just then the Belle of the Day—I think her real name was Joy—called out that my latte was ready.

  I smiled. “Be right back. Anyone want anything?”

  They all shook their heads no.

  Soon I was sitting with them, my hands clutching the warm to-go cup. “Have you heard anything about Brenda’s progress?” I asked Kara.

  Kara’s eyes showed her excitement. “She’s out of the coma. She even said her brother’s name. Of course, she’s still sedated with painkillers, but she is definitely on the road to recovery. Peyton is over the moon.”

  I sighed with relief. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”

  “I take it you know Kara in a special way since you two share a last name? Sisters, maybe?” Osborne said.

  I noted that Liam was sitting next to Osborne, but he was back a ways so Osborne couldn’t really see him. I caught him roll his eyes. I was guessing that Osborne knew exactly how Kara and I were related and Liam was silently calling him on it.

  But I played along. “I’m her stepmother.”

  “Ah. I see. I’m giving an interview to these fine people, so perhaps . . .” Osborne let his words trail off as he glanced toward the entrance. Apparently he wanted me to leave.

  “Are you concerned I’ll tell my husband something you don’t want him to know?” I said.

  My words got everyone’s attention and they all seemed to lean toward me. I’d surprised even myself by being so bold.

  “I have no secrets, Jillian.” Osborne ran his hand through his thick, salt-and-pepper hair. “Since my officers are busy doing police work, I agreed to share what they reported about Brenda Ross’s accident.”

  “Not an accident,” Liam said.

  “No. You’re correct. We determined that almost at once, but since Chief Stewart has claimed jurisdiction, I don’t know much more than how we rescued Dr. Ross and—”

  Kara held up a hand while looking at her tablet. “Let’s be clear so I can report this correctly. It was Mercy Fire Department equipment that pulled her car to safety, right?”

  “Yes, with help from my officers. Mercy PD didn’t show up for a full fifteen minutes and the firemen had already hauled the car away from the tree.” Osborne looked pointedly at me. “This town is woefully low on a police presence and Dr. Ross’s tragedy proves it.”

  “Maybe you could make a plea to our town council for more funds,” I said, trying to sound calm and kind despite not liking this man one bit.

  Kara pushed her iPad away and set her stylus down. “I thank you for your time, Captain Osborne. We have a clear picture of what happened the other day and I am certain Mercy PD is grateful for your department’s assistance. I’m only sorry we couldn’t meet with the officers who responded to the crash. Maybe in the near future?”

  Osborne recognized a dismissal when he heard it. He smiled at Kara. “As I told you, they’re busy protecting the county. I’ve read your work, Ms. Hart. I trust you to report honestly, completely and without bias about this terrible incident. I know everything my officers know, so you have what you need.” He stood and shook hands with Liam. “We have plenty of perps in the county lockup looking for good lawyers. I can throw some work your way.”

  Liam simply smiled and nodded.

  Osborne looked at me. “Jillian, please give my regards to your husband.”

  He left quickly and I noted with much chagrin that his strides reminded me of a cat’s—quiet, graceful steps, like someone who knew he was in charge of the world. I didn’t like the comparison, but it was obvious to a person like me, who’d watched cats move her entire life.

  “What a jerk,” Liam said the minute the door closed behind Osborne. “And do they really say perps at the sheriff’s department? Because I’ve never heard even one of their officers use that word.”

  Kara rested a hand over his fist. “Maybe he thinks we only understand television terms. I used to believe that advances in technology would make these kinds of territorial disputes between local police a thing of the past. But it all boils down to individuals. Some people are just, like you said, jerks.”

  I hoped these two had learned more than what everyone already knew about Osborne. “Did he provide anything new about Brenda’s wreck?”

  Kara nodded. “I have to say, he was forthcoming about the details and filled in a few gaps. But he wants me to write about his heroic officers more than about Brenda. That’s not how it will be done.”

  Liam shook his empty cardboard coffee cup back and forth in a nervous gesture. “We went to speak with the wrecker who towed Brenda’s car before we met with Osborne, so we had a good idea about what probably happened. The guy said it was a miracle she survived. He also said she’d been wrapped around that tree long enough that her engine had cooled down. Thirty minutes or more.”

  “Wow. That’s a long time,” I said. “Where did this happen again?”

  They told me and I was familiar with the winding, narrow road. “Someone was probably following her, then. Because otherwise who could have found her on that road to try to take her out?”

  “Exactly,” Kara said. “The wrecker driver said there was white paint on her gray bumper. Not very helpful in the short term, but once Tom has time to investigate her case, I’m certain every paint has unique tints. They might be able to match it to a specific vehicle make and model.”

  “She was probably coming from seeing Minnie at the hospital. She told me she wanted to give her a journal and see if writing would help jog her memory about anything in her immediate past. Someone came into Minnie’s house and killed Chester, after all.”

  Kara cocked her head like she always did when something piqued her interest. “A journal? Did you see anything like that when you visited Minnie?”

  I considered this for a few seconds before answering. “Her daughter told me Minnie wrote in one, but Dr. Ross took that one with her w
hen she left. Then Brenda was run off the road not long afterward. But we could ask Greta. She probably gathered the items from Minnie’s hospital room when she was taken to surgery, and I recall Brenda saying she would buy a few journals for Minnie. Could be there’s another one in those belongings.”

  Liam said, “Can you call this daughter?”

  “I don’t know her number and they do ask you to shut off your cell phones in that ICU waiting area. She’s probably still at the hospital. She was there this morning.”

  Kara stood. “Let’s try to find her, ask her about this journal.”

  We took Kara’s SUV and she kissed Liam good-bye when we dropped him off at his office. He had another client and was pleased to have billable hours twice today. Since I’d left my van in front of Belle’s Beans, I took time while Kara drove to engage with the upstairs cats. I only wished I’d remembered to turn on the camera in the basement cat room so I could check on Simon and Otto, too.

  I could tell more than ever that I would have to make up yet another absence with lots of playtime tonight. I watched as Merlot sat and stared at the camera next to a meowing Chablis. Syrah wouldn’t even look in the direction of my voice and Dashiell seemed tired but perked up when I said his name.

  Once we’d parked in the hospital lot, I said good-bye to my amigos. Kara and I walked in the sunshine to the hospital entrance. When we arrived in the ICU waiting room, however, Greta wasn’t there, nor were the twins. Only Peyton, it seemed, had remained steadfastly supportive. He looked pale and fatigued, but brightened when he saw us. He seemed especially pleased to see Kara. She had spent a lot of time with him talking about Brenda when no one was certain she would survive.

  I glanced around at the empty chairs where Minnie’s children had sat only this morning and Peyton must have read my mind.

  “The guys left. The one with the short hair actually has a job and I don’t know about the other one. Maybe they drove here together. Anyway, in bigger news, Greta went into labor.” He grinned. “Nice to have a doctor in the room when a woman’s water breaks. It’s her first and she was pretty anxious. I calmed her down, called the husband and had them bring a wheelchair to take her to labor and delivery.”

  “Wow,” I said. “How exciting.”

  “Woke me up—that’s for sure. But now I’m fading again. Did Kara tell you Brenda is awake—well, sort of awake?”

  I glanced at Kara, who was smiling. “Yes, and that’s great news.”

  Kara cleared her throat. “Did you notice if any of Minnie’s children had a bag of her belongings? We’re looking for something your sister might have given her.”

  Peyton reflected on this for what seemed a long time but was probably less than thirty seconds. “There was a clear plastic bag with a robe and slippers, maybe a few other things. One of the sons took it—can’t remember which one. Greta was staying for the five-minute visiting time coming up, so at some point before she started having the contractions she handed the bag to one of her brothers.”

  I glanced at Kara. “Greta might know what was in it.”

  “Why is this so important?” Peyton asked.

  Kara said, “If there was a journal in that bag, your sister gave it to Minnie. It could be a small connection between Brenda’s case and the murder at Minnie’s house, but right now, we’ll take anything we can get. If we can link the cases, it might lead us to whoever ran your sister off the road.”

  “I wish I could remember more, but you can go up to labor and delivery to talk to Greta. It’s her first baby. She probably hasn’t delivered yet.”

  “But we’re not family, so how can we talk to her?” I said.

  “Oh, but we are family,” Kara said firmly. “Isn’t that right, Dr. Ross? And you could call up to that floor and say we ran into you since both you and Greta have patients in ICU and we’re looking for our . . . cousin.”

  Peyton grinned. “I’ll walk you up there myself.”

  Twenty-four

  The floor that housed labor and delivery was a welcome breather from the rest of the floors I’d visited in this hospital. I knew this place so well I almost felt as if I worked here.

  Dr. Peyton Ross sweet-talked us right in to see Greta, and this was a far cry from any other hospital room I’d been in. The place resembled a comfortable bedroom. But Greta looked less than relaxed. Her forehead was dotted with sweat and she tightly gripped the hand of a man sitting in the chair by her bed. She wore a hospital gown and a printed comforter was draped over her knees.

  Thank goodness Greta owed Peyton a debt of gratitude for his help when she went into labor. She seemed more than happy to welcome us into this very private time after he’d pleaded for assistance concerning his sister. He’d left us quickly, saying he didn’t want to miss any of the meager visiting time they offered him in the ICU. He promised Greta he would check on Minnie while he was in with Brenda.

  Greta introduced us to her husband, Aaron, a thin man wearing a shirt and work pants. The logo on the pocket indicated he worked for a local heating and cooling repair company. He was all smiles. You could have brought a marching band in this room and the guy probably wouldn’t have minded. As he was quick to point out, his son would arrive today and he was “proud as a goat with four horns.”

  I almost laughed out loud at that one, but something about this room demanded calm and quiet, so I simply congratulated him.

  Kara got right to the point, seemingly unimpressed by an impending birth. She was focused on her story and that was all that mattered. “We heard from Dr. Peyton Ross that one of your brothers took the bag with your mother’s belongings. Is that right?”

  “Yes. I had Henry take it because I kind of knew I might be needing my room here today. I’d felt funny all night. Do you know we had to reserve our spot months in advance, since there’s no other hospital with a birthing center anywhere near where we live?” But before either of us could reply, her face suddenly transformed, twisting with pain. She raised her knees and said, “Oh, here we go, Aaron. Another one coming.”

  She sat up straight and Aaron put his face close to her ear and began whispering while at the same time pressing the nurse’s call button.

  “Rub my back, babe,” she said.

  A woman in lime green scrubs that were covered in cartoon characters bustled in. “Another one, huh, Greta? You’re doing good, sweetie.” She glanced our way and smiled. “Would you mind stepping out for a second?”

  It wasn’t really a question, and I, for one, was happy to leave.

  Kara paced in the hallway as we waited outside Greta’s closed door. “What if she’s ready to deliver? Does that mean we have to hunt down Henry Schultz for information?”

  “I guess it does. I can assure you he won’t be as cooperative as she’s being.”

  A minute later the nurse came out, her hospital smile still in place. “You can go back in.”

  Greta was leaning against the pillow now, recovering from the last contraction. She looked pale, and though there was a brief period of time when I’d wanted children of my own, it wasn’t to be. I got the feeling I probably wouldn’t have handled this part of a pregnancy all that well.

  “You wanted to know about Mama’s things?” Greta said.

  “You mentioned a journal to Jillian. Was it among the belongings you gave to your brother?” Kara asked.

  “Maybe. She was happy to have it and was scribbling away after the doctor told her about the surgery. Too bad that none of what she wrote seemed to make much sense.”

  “You read it?” I asked.

  “Not the one Dr. Ross left the hospital with, the first one, but yeah, I did,” she said. “I was hoping she’d come to her senses. But it was just a bunch of random words.”

  Aaron used a tissue to dab at the beads of sweat on Greta’s forehead.

  “Okay, seems there were two journals. Can you remember any o
f those words?” Kara asked.

  Greta closed her eyes and bit at her lower lip. I was worried this was another contraction, but it turned out she was thinking. “She’d written something like . . . asked Chester why no uniform. Then there was something about Simon being scared. Yes. Now I remember. She’d written Scaredy Simon and it seemed like she was trying to make a poem about him. Simon’s the orange cat she got a while back, I think. I could never keep them all straight.”

  “That’s it?” Kara asked, sounding disappointed.

  “I’m not exactly in a frame of mind to be remembering . . . ohhhhhh, Aaron. This is a bad one.” Greta sat straight up again and no one had to tell us to leave this time.

  “Apparently Brenda Ross had one of the journals with her,” Kara said. “Guess we have to hunt the brother down to get our hands on the other one.”

  We started down the hall but hadn’t even made it halfway to the elevators when we heard Aaron calling my name. When he reached us, he said, “Greta wanted you to have Henry’s address. He’s the one who has Minnie’s things.”

  I took out my phone and typed the address he recited into my contact list. He also gave me Henry’s work number. “Thank you, Aaron, and thank Greta for us.”

  “No, she says it’s you who need thanking—you and Dr. Ross—for bringing her and her mother back together.”

  As Kara and I entered the elevator, I blinked back tears. Minnie would have the love and support she needed as she recovered, and that would mean so much to a woman I never thought would become so important to me.

  I told Kara I had to spend time with my kitties, so she dropped me off in front of Belle’s Bean’s, where I’d left my van. I made her promise not to contact Henry Schultz by herself. She said she was headed to her office to begin writing what she’d learned from Osborne and wanted to begin her personal interest story on Brenda Ross. Apparently she was still doing research on Brenda’s past work.