The Cat, the Mill and the Murder: A Cats in Trouble Mystery

by Leann Sweeney

  Oh boy, I thought. We’re having a town council meeting right here.

  The rather rumpled Ward Stanley stood in sharp contrast to Lucas Bartlett, whose manicured nails and sculpted eyebrows told me this guy was not from Mercy. The two men stared at each other wearing tight, fake smiles. Dustin shook hands all around, but when the thirty-something Stanley began to introduce the four men he’d brought with him, Dustin surprised me by interrupting.

  He said, “I would love to meet all you people, but there’s been a development inside the mill and I understand my help is needed.”

  Penelope’s gaze swept across all the men surrounding her. “And we’re sure this development won’t interfere with any future plans for the Lorraine Stanley Textile Mill. It’s just a little bump in the road.” She laughed—a tittering laugh that sounded quite counterfeit to my ears.

  How inappropriate, I thought. All she cared about was that one of these investor groups would produce a shiny new and profitable project, one that would relieve the town of Mercy of any obligation to care for this crumbling eyesore. Meanwhile, inside the mill, bones lay waiting to be identified. Human bones. To paraphrase Emily Dickinson, Penelope dropped very low in my regard right then.

  I cleared my throat and said, “Since Dustin might need my help inside getting to the back office, he’s asked me to go with him. Can you allow us room to get through the gate, Penelope?”

  She looked at Dustin. “Why would you need help? You have blueprints and spent a good deal of time in there yesterday.”

  “Jillian is quite familiar with the layout of old mills,” he said, looking down at me. He turned back to Penelope. “I could really use her expertise, if you don’t mind.”

  “First professors and police officers and now the two of you.” She turned to the suddenly silent crowd—who rather reminded me of those twelve angry men of movie fame. She gestured broadly and stepped back, her entourage following her lead. “Go right ahead.”

  Dustin fumbled with the lock, but finally we were through the gate and heading toward the mill. The stares of those we’d left behind seemed to pierce my back, but when I felt that familiar thing that cats do—jump dolphinlike against my leg and then surge ahead to lead the way—I knew Boots had come along. And somehow, this provided a kind of reassurance.

  Before we reached the door, I heard Penelope call my name. I turned.

  She gestured for me to come back, saying, “I need to ask you something, Jillian. It will only take a second.”

  Dustin sighed heavily. “Go on. She is my boss on all this. Let’s make the woman happy.”

  I returned to the fence and Penelope didn’t open the gate. She simply leaned against the chain links and whispered, “I understand there’s a skeleton in there. Let’s be clear. You’re here as a volunteer and not connected in any official capacity to this mess. Don’t say a word to anyone. This could be a PR nightmare. Everything goes through me? Understand?”

  “If you believe I’d gossip about what we found, you don’t know me very well.” I forced a smile.

  “Your stepdaughter works for the media. You cannot tell her about this…this mess.”

  “The mess you’re referring to might be human remains,” I said, my patience quickly fading. “And Kara runs a small-town newspaper. She’s not a CNN producer or anything.”

  To her credit, she looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry if I sounded unsympathetic. Please, assist Dustin, if you would. Just remember what I said.” She turned on one heather gray heel and walked back to the men vying for the mill.

  I rejoined Dustin. Just inside the massive door, he’d left a box with hard hats and bulky leather protective gloves. We donned the gear and, with our flashlights leading the way, walked to the office, being careful to dodge the debris on the floor—cheese cones, reed hooks, heddle hooks, spools and scatterings of settled lint.

  The halogens in the office shed their light well outside the office door and seemed to be summoning us. We heard voices and picked up our pace.

  Mike Baca wore jeans, a zippered dark green jacket with the Mercy PD logo on the chest and a baseball cap with an identical logo—far more sensible clothes for this operation than the suits outside were wearing.

  A plump woman was kneeling near the fireplace, her back to me. She wore a navy blue jumpsuit of some kind and her head was covered with what looked like the kind of hat worn by doctors in surgery. Candace stood looking down at her, but when we entered the room, surprise registered on her face. Surprise directed at me.

  I felt silly in a hard hat when none of these people considered it necessary.

  The chief said, “Jillian,” with a nod. He then extended his hand to Dustin. “Good to see you again, Mr. Gray.”

  Dustin introduced himself to the kneeling woman, and she struggled to her feet. She seemed to be trying not to touch anything as she rose.

  She wore latex gloves and said, “I’m Dr. Ruth Maddison. You don’t want to shake my hand, Mr. Gray. I do need your assistance, sir. This is a tricky operation we got going, so let me ask your opinion on removing these bricks so we can see what we’ve got.” She waved him toward her and he eagerly joined her.

  Mike whispered, “You needed to hold the guy’s hand or what?”

  I said, “I came to collect a few of Jeannie’s things, though that’s not the story we offered the town council meeting that’s going on outside the gate. Jeannie might feel more comfortable in the hospital if she has something familiar.” I glanced around, ready to get to the most important reason I’d come in here. “Then there’s the matter of the cat shelters. All Shawn wants to do is unload them, set them inside the gate, but away from anything that might be related to the…skeleton. He’s worked hard to get those shelters donated and wants them stored in a safe place.”

  “So, you’re a messenger.” He looked at Candace, who was engrossed in the hushed conversation going on between Dustin and Dr. Maddison. “Deputy Carson. Any problem with Shawn bringing the shelters inside?”

  Candace looked at us, seemingly perturbed. Then she sighed heavily. “If we do have a crime scene, I suppose we can’t protect every inch of this property. It’s just too big.” She turned pensive. “But where to put them?”

  Dustin glanced at her. “Can they stay outdoors?”

  “From what Shawn told me,” I answered, “they’re meant to be outside eventually. But I know he’d prefer them to be locked up in this building. If that’s impossible right now, we can find a place that’s out of sight from the road.”

  Mike turned to leave, saying, “I’ll take care of Shawn and his shelters.”

  He didn’t ask me to go with him and I sighed with relief. I wanted to know what the professor would find in that fireplace. And apparently I wasn’t the only one.

  Sitting on the hearth, and watching with intense curiosity as Dr. Maddison and Dustin resumed their discussion, was a small black cat with white paws.

  Oh boy. Now I could see her.

  The cat glanced at me and quietly meowed while I swallowed a gasp.

  Thirteen

  “Are you okay?” Candace said to me. “You look as if you saw a ghost.”

  I blinked several times and Boots didn’t completely disappear, but rather went translucent. “I-I’m simply worried about what they’ll find.” And concerned I truly am losing my mind, I added to myself.

  “If you don’t like skeletons, I suggest you leave,” Candace said. “But even though I understand you want to help Jeannie, I can’t let you take anything out of this room. Cat shelters are one thing, but this area will need to be searched for evidence.”

  “I understand. But I’d like to stay and watch them work.” Even if I was taken aback by what I saw beyond Candace, I was still mesmerized.

  Boots had found a way into the right side of the fireplace while Dustin and Dr. Maddison concentrated on the left. Only her tail was sticking out. I suppose ghost cats could travel right through brick. I stepped closer and said, “Perhaps the feral cats can give
us a clue about this fireplace. Earlier we decided they seemed to be coming in and out through this room.” I pointed to the small opening where I could still see the tip of Boots’s tail. “Like right through there.”

  Dr. Maddison turned and looked up at me. “Feral cats?”

  “I’ll explain later.” Candace, hands on her thighs, peered into the fireplace, glancing left and then right. “There is a space a few feet to the right of where Dustin pulled out that hand.”

  Dustin scrambled over and stuck tentative fingers into the opening. “Ah. This might give us a shot at removing bricks and concrete with minimal disturbance to what might…lie beyond.” He looked up at me. “Good call, Jillian.”

  Thanks, Boots, I said to myself.

  Dustin said, “If we can reach in through this opening and remove a few bricks, we might be able to see what we’re dealing with. I’m sure you understand, Dr. Maddison, that this structure of debris began in the middle and then whoever filled this fireplace piled on to the outside. Sort of like a pyramid.”

  Dr. Maddison smiled for the first time. “If we pull the wrong brick, the whole thing could topple down and destroy what we’re hoping to find. Simple common sense. But that’s a pretty small opening. We’ll need little hands to reach in and see what’s loose enough to pull out.” She stood with a groan. “Okay, everyone. Let’s see your hands.”

  “Wait a minute,” Candace said. “We could have an entire dead body in there and—”

  “Or,” Dr. Maddison said, “we could have nothing more than a piece of tarp inside this fireplace. The skeletal hand could have come from some prankster’s anatomy lab.”

  Candace’s jaw slackened and I could tell she’d realized the professor might be right. Finally she said, “I suppose that’s possible. Might not be anything more criminal than that. Let’s see whose hand will fit in that hole.” She looked at me. “But I already know.”

  Sure enough, I had the thinnest hands and after I traded the leather gloves for a pair of latex ones from Candace’s evidence kit, I swallowed hard. “Okay, Dustin. Guide me as best you can.”

  Dustin said, “I’ve already moved the loose bricks in front. I believe we have a large hunk of concrete that’s pretty much supporting everything above it. Little chance you can budge it. But if you can reach in and loosen more bricks on the right side, maybe pull them out, we’ll have a better view. I’ll shine the Maglite in there for you.”

  I shed my coat and once I was down on my knees, Dustin focused the light through the small passage where I’d seen Boots disappear. Once I leaned my head to the side and looked into the hole, there she was, her little face offering me a pleading look. The light passed right through her black-and-white fur. Oh boy. I was learning way more about ghosts than I ever wanted to—like, for instance, that they do exist. I shuddered and decided to concentrate on my task.

  Sure enough, I was able to pull out first one brick and then another, sliding them sideways through the opening Boots had pointed out. I also saw daylight filtering through a hole in the back of the fireplace on the right corner. Must be how the ferals are getting in and out, I thought.

  Dustin, down on the floor with me, said, “Remember, we’re hoping to remove just enough so we can angle a light to the left and get a good look at that tarp.”

  I could see the configuration—sort of like a Jenga tower. I saw what few bricks I could remove and did so carefully. I then squinted at what I saw inside the fireplace. Dustin was right. A big piece of concrete in the center seemed to be supporting most of the debris. I lay on the floor on my left side so I could get most of my arm in. I carefully withdrew two more loose bricks right in front of the monster hunk of concrete. The tarp was clearly visible from this angle with the help of the Maglite. Looking straight at it hadn’t revealed what I could now see.

  “Oh no,” I whispered.

  I yanked my arm out, tearing my Henley in the process. I pressed the back of my gloved hand against my mouth and mumbled, “Oh no,” several more times.

  Candace knelt beside me, her hand on my shoulder. “What is it?”

  “H-hair spilling out of the tarp. Long dirty hair. And a s-skull.” I looked up at the professor, who hadn’t joined Dustin, Candace and me on the floor, even though her concern was evident.

  I said, “This is no prank, Professor.”

  Since cell phone reception inside the mill was nonexistent, Candace had to leave to get reinforcements from outside. My presence, thank goodness, was no longer needed, so I walked out with her.

  The crowd outside seemed to have grown, but Penelope Webber’s red coat reminded me of a ball of fire in an ocean of gray. She started toward Candace while my friend dragged me along, hurrying to where Morris and Chief Baca stood. They both seemed winded as we approached and then I realized they must have helped Shawn unload the cat shelters. Yes, that must be what happened, because I caught a glimpse of the Penske truck driving away.

  Keeping her voice low, Candace said, “We got trouble, Chief.”

  “Did you say trouble?” Penelope said. She’d swiftly closed in on us.

  Candace whirled and faced her. “Ms. Webber, with all due respect, I need you to step back while I discuss an urgent matter with the chief.”

  Penelope looked past Candace at Chief Baca. “Mike, if there’s a problem, I need to be informed. The investor groups are both here and if I don’t give them an update, we could lose them—and their revenue.”

  Candace’s lips tightened and she turned back to face Mike. All she did was raise her eyebrows and widen her blue eyes. We all knew Candace well enough to know what that expression meant: Get her out of here. Now.

  Mike smiled at Penelope and said, “I would guess there won’t be any tour of the mill today. That is why you brought these folks here, am I right?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I promised them that since the engineer had gone in without incident, and since I am told halogen lights are in place, they could all have a peek at more than blueprints.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” Candace said.

  Mike stepped between Penelope and Candace while I glanced over to where Morris stood. He seemed to be enjoying all this.

  Mike said, “I need to talk to my officer, but I’m thinking a tour of the building is a bit premature. You’re good with people, Penny. You can explain this as a miscommunication on my part. Tell them we found a woman living in the mill and we want to remove all her belongings before they see the place. How’s that?”

  Penelope’s hazel eyes darkened. “Exactly what is the real problem?”

  “I promise to call you as soon as I find out,” Mike said, his voice like warm syrup. “Give us a little time and space to sort things out, would you?”

  Penelope took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She straightened her shoulders, put on her politician smile and walked back to join the curious onlookers.

  When she was out of earshot, Candace whispered, “There’s a body in there, Chief. And we’re gonna need a jackhammer to get the bones out of that fireplace.”

  Fourteen

  When I drove away from the mill property, I passed my stepdaughter, Kara, as she was arriving. I waved and sped on. Word that something was up had obviously gotten out, but the last thing I wanted was to talk to Kara about what I’d seen in that old fireplace. Besides, Candace had sworn me to secrecy and said she wasn’t even putting up crime scene tape in hopes of keeping away the entire population of Mercy. With Kara’s arrival, it would seem she was out of luck—but not because of me.

  I arrived home hungry as well as fatigued by the stress of seeing that skull, but my three cats weren’t the least bit tired. As soon as I made myself a PBJ and carried it, along with a huge glass of sweet tea, to the small table in the kitchen nook, three kitty faces stared up at me.

  They wanted me to do normal things—like quilting—rather than deal with bones and ghosts. I did have kitty quilt orders pending. I made them to order for cat lovers and my business was building. It
would be so nice to sit in the easy chair in my quilting room and pick up a project, allow the rocking of the needle through fabric to soothe me. Instead, I found myself glancing around, thinking about Boots. Apparently she’d stayed at the mill, because Syrah and Merlot showed no indication we had a mysterious feline visitor. Had her whole purpose been to lead me to where that body lay hidden? Would she disappear for good now? Had the whole ghost-cat thing been my imagination working overtime to help solve a problem? Perhaps. But deep down, I knew I’d seen Boots, felt her, sensed her—and so had two of my cats.

  I was just putting my plate in the dishwasher when Tom arrived. His hug-and-kiss greeting was exactly what I needed and I clung to him, my head against his chest.

  “Mmm. I smell peanut butter. But are you okay?” He lifted my chin so he could look at my face.

  “There are more bones in that fireplace—and I saw them. It was awful.” I felt tears burn behind my eyes and I blinked them back.

  With his arm around my shoulders, we went into the living room and sat on the sofa, where I told him everything—except about Boots. I still wasn’t sure what Tom would think of me if I mentioned a ghost cat—and what he thought of me was important. Yes, I was falling for this man, falling hard. And no talk of ghosts would get in the way of what we might have together.

  “I heard nothing about the mill on my police scanner,” he said. “So, I’m guessing Mike and Candace have succeeded in keeping this quiet—for now.”

  “I passed Kara on the way, so it won’t be a secret for long. I can see the Mercy Messenger headlines already. Anyway, Candace says they have to come up with a plan to get the skeleton out of the fireplace—and they would like to do that with as little interference as possible. But we all know once odd pieces of excavating equipment begin showing up in town, the cat will be out of the bag.” Oh boy, I thought. Poor word choice.

  “This professor’s appearance didn’t stir up any grapevine interest?” he said.