The Cat Jumped Over the Moon

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The Cat Jumped Over the Moon Page 10

by Phaedra Weldon


  “I have no idea. It’s too dark. But I see a crescent moon.”

  So did I. But the rest of it was a blur. “So where is this painting?”

  “Who knows? Maybe it was sold?”

  “I can ask Beverly. Right now, I feel like I need a bath.” I followed the tour ropes out of the house to the front door. The officer nodded to me and I got in the car. It really was after three. In fact, it was close to four. David hadn’t texted me like he said he would, so I called him and left a message. Him not answering probably meant he was busy with Dr. Helena.

  Time to go home, take a hot bath and finish off one of those pies we didn’t touch last night. After that, I’d try him again. I should take the detective’s file to Danvers, but I wanted more time with it before that happened. Maybe if David ended up busy, I’d call Cass and see how she and Beverly were doing.

  That was what I thought I’d be doing, until I pulled onto the road into town and something moving very fast hit the side of the car.

  THIRTEEN

  My head hurt sooo bad.

  “I think she’s waking up.”

  “Oh…stop…yelling,” I heard myself say. Then again, I wasn’t sure if I said it out loud. The place I was in was dark and comfy, and I didn’t want to leave. But the dark was getting brighter, and the brighter it got, the more those nasty little leprechauns used jackhammers inside my skull.

  “She’s fine.” That was Mama D’s voice.

  The first voice had been Max. I managed to open one eye and found two bright cat eyes looking back at me. I closed my eyes and then opened both of them. Max was sitting on my chest like the Sphinx, his nose up against mine. “You’re heavy,” I muttered.

  “And you scared me to death. Don’t ever do that again!”

  “What, so you—” And like most of my memories after sleep, what happened came rushing back to me. “Someone hit me. I was in my car—”

  “My car,” Mama D said. “And yes. Someone purposefully hit you. I’ll go tell Billy you’re awake.” I saw her move to the right of Max.

  Further investigation told me I wasn’t at home. I was in a hospital room. “Oh Goddess…am I okay? Am I paralyzed?”

  “No,” Max said. “But you have a very unattractive bump on your head. It’s right there in top corner.”

  “Heads don’t have corners, Max,” I said, and attempted to sit up. I managed it and smiled when Max clung to his perch. He really wasn’t going to let go of me.

  The room was a double, but the other bed was empty. A chair beside the bed signaled where Mama D had been sitting. The door opened and Sheriff Danvers lumbered in. He wasn’t wearing his hat. The worry lines creasing his face eased a bit when he saw me and came forward. “Doc says you’ll be okay. It was a nasty bump on your head, and there’s a small concussion. But you can go home in a few hours. David will be back by then to take care of you.”

  “Where is David?” That was when I noticed a bouquet of red roses and a stuffed bear by the bed. “Those aren’t from him, are they?”

  “No,” Mama D said as she came around Danvers and sat back down. “That idiot researcher brought them. He was mad as hell that he couldn’t see you, and even more idiotic when they wouldn’t let David in either.”

  “But David’s my boyfriend.”

  “But he’s not family by the hospital standards,” Danvers said. “When you turned right off the Delaney drive, a car heading in your direction crossed the line and sideswiped you. Mama Donahue’s car is pretty banged up. I’m sure Terrance is gonna have it totaled.”

  “Great. Did anyone see who hit me?”

  “Perrin and his family heard it. That’s how they got you here so quickly. But no one saw the other car.”

  I licked my lips as I remembered the files and the book. “Where’s my bag? My purse?”

  “It’s here.” Mama D pulled my oversized bag from the floor and handed it to me. My head hurt as I bent over, and my vision blurred just a bit, but I was determined to look inside. But I knew it the moment I unzipped it. The case file was gone, and so was the little blue book. “Whoever it was stole some things out of my bag.”

  “Perrin and I figured out you were purposefully hit, but we didn’t know why.” Danvers crossed his arms. “You care to tell me why you told him you were doing some research for me at the Delaney House?”

  It was time to bring Danvers in on everything I’d stumbled on. And luckily, I’d taken all those pictures. For the next hour, I told him and Mama D everything, and showed them the book, the rhyme, my suspicions and the missing case file.

  “Ginger.” Danvers was not happy. “The moment you saw that file, you should have brought it to me.”

  “I know, okay? Don’t…make me feel worse than I already do. But think about it—someone doesn’t want that file examined, or those negatives reprinted. But I could have sworn Brenda Kell had that little book in her hand, just like how Phil found it beside Nichelle’s body.”

  Danvers had my phone and was looking at the pictures. “Only someone put the book away before Detective Blue could get back to it, and Boscawen got to it before the killer could get rid of it again.”

  “That’s only if you think the same person committed both murders. Or three, if Mr. Kell is dead too.”

  “I wish we had the clothing,” Danvers said. “The one with the spatter on it. I’m betting we’d find it was the husband’s.”

  “So you do think it’s the same person?” I looked at him.

  “I don’t know what to think. Can you email me all these pictures? I want to look at everything on my computer.” He handed me back my phone.

  So I started sending everything in bulk to Danvers’ email address.

  “Oh, by the way,” Danvers said. “I arrested Phil Boscawen.”

  I froze and then looked up at him. Now my head really hurt. “You have evidence he killed Nichelle?”

  “No. I didn’t arrest him for that. He attacked your boyfriend.”

  The room did a slight flip in my head. “Wait…what? Phil attacked David? Is that why David isn’t here?”

  “Yes, he tried to attack David. Here at the hospital. With a stake and garlic. Just before you were brought in. At first, David just brushed it off and told me no harm done. But when you were brought in, Phil caused another scene when I said David could come in and see you. Attacked David again, and this time the doc had had enough.”

  “So Phil’s in jail.” I nodded. “That should keep him safe for a while.”

  “Good.”

  Mama D hit a button that lifted the back of the bed, and I leaned into the pillows. I was feeling very tired. But my mind wouldn’t let this whole case go. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but so far, it looks like Detective Blue didn’t believe Mr. Kell killed his wife.”

  “That’s my take,” Danvers said. “So he started investigating it.”

  “And he was able to record several discrepancies before he died.” I snapped my fingers. “How did he die? I don’t remember seeing his actual obituary in that file, and I think Cassandra and Beverly were going to take a look to see who’d been in the basement to see that file—maybe see who put the case file in Detective Blue’s folder.”

  Danvers’ lips formed a thin line. “They hit the library before they hit you. Miss Walker and Miss Norris were attacked in the basement and the records are gone.”

  “Attacked? Are they okay?”

  “Yeah. Cassandra’s already home, and Beverly’s resting. The guy tossed a smoke bomb in the room, hit both of them on the head and took off. The smoke set the library alarms off.”

  Mama D cleared her throat. “I’m not a private investigator, but it sounds to me like someone’s doing a bang-up job preventing you from solving that old case.”

  “I agree with you, Mama Donahue. But I’m more worried about the present-day case. I’m still not far on who killed Nichelle Corvis and why.”

  “I think we have to look to the past,” I said, and put my hand on my head. “That book connec
ts them. I’m not clear how. Danvers…what do you know about Patrick Delaney? He’s got some serious influence in this town, and I don’t think it’s all monetary. Is he an unconventional?”

  “Not that anyone knows of. The Delaneys date back to late 1800s when Dempsey Delaney, a banker from New Orleans, married Marny Castle. During that generation of Castles, she was the only grandchild and heir to the family fortune. They took up residence in the old house—”

  “The converted bed and breakfast at the lake?” I interjected.

  “Yeah. And the rest is history. They had children and so on. Patrick’s descended from the Delaney and Castle families. They’re heavily invested in the city and it’s rumored Marny was a witch, so there’s that unofficial start to the town’s protections on…y’all.”

  Okay, that made sense. “So what about Patrick Delaney himself?”

  “Uh…he had two sons and he was widowed when the youngest was nine. But that kid also ran off some fifteen years ago. Delaney said he hired private investigators to look for him, but nothing ever came of it. I don’t think anyone really missed him, ’cause he was a drunk, a thief and an embarrassment.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, he was a real piece of work. Had that whole privileged air to him. He’d skip school, break into people’s houses, steal and sell their stuff, and with the money he’d buy drugs.”

  My family had all turned out pretty damn good, hadn’t we? None of us were alcoholics or thieves, or even an embarrassment.

  Well, Melody really didn’t count. She mostly embarrassed me. “What was his name?”

  “Jackson Miles Delaney, and he’d say it like that. You had to call him by his full name. Couldn’t just call him Jackson. Or Jack.”

  JMD. I picked up my phone and found the carving in the headboard and showed Mama D and Danvers. “You think JMD is Delaney’s son?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. Sneaking into that house was a problem for him. He’d get caught more times than not. And when the Kells moved in, well, he just got mad because they put in a new security system…”

  I could tell he was thinking what I was thinking. “He was, what, twenty-five in 1998? You think the BEK in the carving is Brenda Kell?”

  “Right now, I don’t know what to think. Though…given that kid’s history, I wouldn’t be surprised if he killed the two of them in a fit of jealous rage.”

  “And made it look like her husband did it and ran off?” I shook my head. “Usually people like that don’t have the smarts to come up with an elaborate plan, like framing her husband.” I looked at my hands. “Or hiding that book.” I was always thinking of that book, and wondering if it really had any significance at all in this mess.

  “Wait.” Danvers was moving pictures around again on my phone. “This picture in the background…” He turned the phone to face me. It was the mystery picture with the moon. “This picture is hanging in Delaney’s office at the bank. It’s behind his desk.” Danvers frowned. “Oh hell.”

  “What?”

  “It’s called The Cat Jumped Over the Moon. The image down at the bottom is the front of an inn and tavern here in Castle Falls. It was called The Cat and the Fiddle.”

  That was a whole bunch of coincidences lined up in a pretty little row, now wasn’t it?

  David appeared just as Mama D checked me out of the hospital. It was close to ten p.m. and I was hungry. We piled into his car, David carrying me and tucking me in, refusing to let me walk. When I asked him where he’d been, I was surprised. “I was helping Perrin and his pride look for the asshole who hit you.” His voice was calm but tight, and I could tell he was mad but keeping it under control. “We did find someone who saw a van with a mangled front end speeding away. But there wasn’t much else they could tell us.”

  “Which direction?” Mama D asked from the back seat.

  “Toward the falls,” David said as he turned into Mama D’s driveway. “We’ll catch them.”

  That last statement had a cold finality to it. And I almost pitied the person when David Flanagan found them.

  Mama D unlocked the door as David carried me in and placed me gently on the papasan. The house smelled wonderful. David had come by and made chicken soup, bought bread from Mavis and brewed tea. It was a simple meal, but it was the best and tasted heavenly!

  We sat together in the den as we ate, with David checking my vitals now and then. I understood the seriousness of a concussion, and he was being the perfect doctor. And the perfect lover. I sensed worry from him in a constant wave, laced with anger and a hint of vengeance.

  “I heard Phil attacked you today?” I asked as he sat on the sofa with my laptop. He’d downloaded the photos I’d taken and was looking over everything just as Danvers had.

  He glanced at me. “He felt I was damning your soul by making you my paramour.”

  “Your what?”

  “Apparently Mr. Boscawen was reading some pretty ridiculous histories on vampires, and then listened to some diatribe concocted by Mildred Thumper. Combine all of that with a bottle of scotch and he was pretty well determined to rid the world of a single vampire.”

  “Phil was drunk?” I rubbed at my forehead. The throbbing headache hadn’t really gone away, and I was tired.

  David put the laptop down and was immediately at my side. “Are you okay?”

  “I still have a headache.”

  He put his hand on my forehead. His touch was cool, and it felt good—

  Wait… “The headache’s gone!” I said as he pulled his hand away.

  “It’s not gone,” he said, looking apologetic. “Just dulled.”

  “You can heal people like that?” Mama D said as she put her empty bowl on the coffee table amidst her mess of magazines.

  “Only Ginger. My connection to her allows me some liberties like that. But this is pretty much the extent of any kind of power.” He gently stroked my cheek with the back of his finger and looked at me. “You’ll need to get more sleep. And I’ll be watching.”

  “Kinda creepy.” I smiled at him.

  He smiled back, but it was a thin one. “Worried, is all.”

  I realized at that moment I was falling in love with this man. Vampire. Shifter. And I couldn’t remember being in love with a man before. Not like this. Oh, I’d had infatuations and schoolgirl crushes on poster people, but this? No one had ever been this good to me. In the back of my mind, I was afraid it would disappear if I didn’t grab it and hold on as tight as I could.

  But why did that thought give me a bad, nagging feeling?

  FOURTEEN

  “You okay?” David asked. “You just got a faraway look in your eyes.”

  “I’m okay,” I replied. “You’re here. I feel safe with you here, and since there isn’t anything left for this maniac to steal, I feel pretty safe.”

  “Speaking of,” Mama D said. “How did they know you had this folder and that book? I didn’t know you had it. Danvers didn’t know.”

  I shrugged. “The only people who knew other than me were Phil—and he only knew about the book—Cassandra and Beverly, and they knew about both. But then they were attacked while looking to see who could have put the case file in the obituary folder.”

  “This does seem a bit odd.” David returned to the sofa and the laptop. “I’ve been looking at the shots of the case file, and I agree that Detective Blue was onto something, and it more than likely got him killed. Have you spoken to his family?”

  “No. We were hoping to find more information on his daughter and wife, but I was too fascinated with the rhyme and the book and how it fits into all this. Danvers is going to look into Thomas Blue with his resources.”

  “Has anyone looked deeper into Nichelle’s background?”

  “Not past what you told me. I didn’t see anything interesting in it, other than, like most psychics, she was a fake.”

  “I don’t believe she was a fake,” David said. “But…” He crossed his arms over his chest and then bent his right arm at the e
lbow and rubbed his chin. “I wish I had a whiteboard here.”

  “You mean like a detective’s whiteboard?” I smiled.

  “Exactly like that. So we can look at things all spread out. So, let’s concentrate on Nichelle for now, because she’s the immediate mystery. We know she had a shady past before she was hired to be the show’s psychic. And before that, she’d built up a reputation as a psychic.”

  “And she didn’t get along with Phil,” I said. “That much I learned from the others. But then, I’m starting to think a lot of people don’t get along with Phil.”

  “I’ll say.” David smirked at me. “But Nichelle was the one who convinced the show producers to investigate the Delaney House. She’s from Castle Falls. So that makes sense. But who was her family? Has anyone investigated that?”

  “I think Danvers had someone on it.”

  David shook his head. “He’s already overwhelmed with the merchant community breathing down his neck to reopen the Delaney House and the mayor wanting it kept closed at Patrick Delaney’s wishes. Nichelle, though she’s the victim, isn’t his priority. But I think she should be. Think about it—how did she know about that little blue book?”

  Mama D and I shook our heads. But… “Unless she heard about it from someone in Castle Falls.”

  “Who? No one knew. Except two people. The person who murdered Brenda Kell—and let’s say her husband—and Detective Thomas Blue.” He smiled at me. “We know he had a daughter…”

  Och! I sat forward and then grabbed my head. Ow.

  David was at my side. I put my hand on his. “Is it possible?”

  “We’d have to do more digging tomorrow. Er, later today. But I think we need to look into Nichelle’s full background.”

  “Well, I think I know a shortcut on that. But it’s going to mean bailing Phil Boscawen out of jail.”

  He gave me a withering look.

  If there was one thing Phillip Boscawen was good at, it was research. That much I learned while we dated. Give him any subject and he would give you a full report within a week on the past, present and future of that subject. Statistics had always fascinated him, as well as relating past events to present results.

 

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