Kitty Litter Killer

by Candice Speare Prentice

  Eric nodded. “Yes. He was working for the NYPD. He did pretty well. Moved up the ladder. Worked as a detective and in Narcotics. Made lieutenant. Never married again, just had a string of girlfriends.”

  Eric sighed. “You know he was a good friend when we were in the academy together, right?”

  I nodded.

  “He was a fellow officer. There’s something about that. A camaraderie that I can’t explain.” Eric’s eyes boring into mine seemed to beg me to understand, then he looked away. “When he was first married to Abbie, things were fine. But after a while, I began to realize things weren’t right. Eventually I saw what he was doing with other women.” He rubbed the skin between his eyebrows. “She came to me and tried to talk to me about some things. I blew her off. He was my friend. A fellow cop. A brother of sorts. That hurt her bad.”

  “I know,” I said. “I’m just glad she got over it and is giving you a chance now. Neither one of you is the same person you were back then.”

  “Yes.” For a moment, his face brightened, and then the light died.

  I decided a change of subject would be good. “Philip’s timing in being here is interesting, don’t you think?”

  Eric’s eyes focused on me again. “Well, I wouldn’t say ‘interesting’ is the best choice of words, given how things have turned out. More like disturbing.”

  “There has to be a reason he was here,” I said. “I just wish Abbie had me or Daddy with her when Philip first approached her. We could have helped.”

  “I wish she had, too. Things might have been different.” He glanced at the desk then up at me. “Do you know something I don’t know about Abbie? A secret reason she could have had to murder Philip? Or have him murdered?”

  “What?” I shot forward in my chair. “Do you mean you think she did it?”

  “No!” He stretched out his right hand as if he were directing traffic and telling me to stop. “Please, Trish. I know her better than that. But she is very deep. I know there are layers in her that I haven’t begun to see. I just don’t want something coming to light that will hurt her.” He rubbed his eyes. “I don’t want someone else discovering something.”

  “Like the bulldog, you mean?” I took a deep breath. “You want me to look into things?”

  He met my gaze with wide eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”

  A brief surge of irritation washed over me. “Do I look like I’m kidding? This is a serious conversation, is it not?”

  “Yes, it is a serious conversation, and no, you don’t look like you’re kidding. I was being facetious. I know perfectly well how you are. In fact, you’re probably already looking into things. That’s why you wanted to know about the crime scene.”

  I felt warmth on my cheeks.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?” he asked. “And you have one of those notebooks in your purse, don’t you?”

  Body language plays a big part in police interrogation and interviewing. Mine gave me up.

  “You do,” he said. “Admit it.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Trish, you need to stay out of this.” He shifted in his chair and it creaked. “For a number of reasons.”

  I shook my head. “My best friend is a suspect. I can’t let this go.”

  “I’m asking you to. She’ll be fine.” Even as he said it, I could tell he wasn’t sure he believed it himself.

  I felt angry all over again when I thought of Abbie huddled on her couch, crying. “You weren’t there after she was interviewed. You didn’t see the shape she was in.” I described how I found her the night before.

  Eric blinked. “She never told me that.”

  “Well, of course she didn’t. She doesn’t want to worry you.” I placed my hands on his desk. “I know I can do this.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “I know you can, too, but there’s so much at stake. Your getting involved could make a messy situation messier—not to mention being dangerous for you.”

  I wasn’t going to press the point. I already knew what I was going to do. And I wondered before all this ended if Eric might welcome my help.

  His phone rang.

  “Excuse me,” he said. After a few uh-huhs and glances at me, he put the phone down. “Detective Reid would like to see you. She’s here in the building, and she’s sending someone to get you.”

  “How did she know I was here?”

  “The walls have eyes.” A grim smile passed over his face. “I think I’m going to need to watch my step.”

  As I waited for Detective Reid in the bland interview room, I remembered the first time I had been here, interviewed by Eric. At the time, I’d thought that was a bad situation. Things had certainly gone from bad to worse. After being kept waiting what I presumed was a suitable amount of time to keep me off balance, Detective Reid walked in.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Cunningham.”

  “Hello.” I put my elbows on the table and stared at her.

  She dropped onto a chair across from me. “I’d just like to go over your statement again.” I nodded.

  She pulled out a piece of paper and read each answer I’d given her. Each time she looked up at me, I nodded.

  “Well, that’s about it,” she said as she stood.

  I waited. I had a feeling I was about to find out her real purpose for asking me here.

  As she gathered her papers in her arms, she glanced at her telephone then back at me. “Why were you here today?”

  I had to tread carefully, and I wasn’t sure what to say. I didn’t want to put Eric on the spot, although I had a feeling he already was.

  “I came to see Eric Scott.”

  “About?”

  “He’s about to marry my best friend. He was concerned about her well-being because he hasn’t seen her since Philip died.”

  “He hasn’t seen her?” The surprise was evident on Detective Reid’s face, but she got control of herself quickly.

  “No.”

  “Mmm.” She headed toward the door.

  I braced myself, thinking about Lieutenant Columbo on television. He used to do the same thing. Make the suspect feel like they were home free, then turn around and fire questions. I wasn’t disappointed. She whirled around to face me again.

  “Were you aware that Abbie Grenville met Philip Grenville at the Gas ’n’ Go the day he was murdered?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “You didn’t tell me this yesterday,” she said, her flat, cold eyes nailing me to the chair.

  “I didn’t know yesterday,” I said.

  She nodded very slowly. “I see. And where did you find this out?”

  “From Abbie,” I said.

  “And when did you speak to her?”

  “Last night,” I said.

  “I see.” Detective Reid put her hand on the doorknob. “Is there anything else you know that you believe would be pertinent to the case?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea what I know that you think might be pertinent.”

  The detective smiled grimly. “You have quite the reputation.”

  I stood, picked up my purse, and slung it over my shoulder. “I’ve lived in Four Oaks all my life. I’m sure you’re going to hear all sorts of things about me.”

  She stared down at me. “Don’t get in my way, Mrs. Cunningham. This is not a game of Sherlock Holmes. I don’t appreciate civilians getting involved in my investigations.”

  “Frankly, Detective Reid, I don’t know any law enforcement officer who does like civilians involved in their investigations.”

  She stared at me with narrowed eyes.

  Detective Reid was a formidable foe. She smiled slowly, looking like a shark, then motioned for me to go ahead of her so she could escort me from the building.

  I returned her smile as I passed her and saw a flicker in her eye. I had a feeling this wasn’t the last of my little chats with the detective.

  Chapter Nine

  I stopped to eat lunch at Bo’s Burger Barn, but I didn’t have much of a
n appetite. When I ended up pushing my onion rings around the half-eaten cheeseburger on my plate, I realized it was pointless. I wasn’t going to finish. I shoved the whole thing aside and pulled the steno pad out of my purse. I needed to write notes about what I had learned that morning.

  I looked at what I’d already written about Philip. To that, I added: Philip called Eric an hour before he was shot.

  Then I flipped a few pages ahead, titled the page Suspects, and began to write.

  Jaylene and Henry Adler. They hated Philip. Why? And why is Jaylene so defensive that Henry had nothing to do with Philip’s murder?

  Clark Matthews? New in town. Worked in New York City as a “model.” Could have had a run-in with Philip there.

  He just didn’t seem like a viable suspect to me, but I had so little to go on, I needed to follow every lead I had.

  I tried to take a sip of my Mountain Dew and sucked up nothing through the straw but water from the melted ice. I’d been here a long time. I dreaded my next stop.

  My cell phone rang as I finished paying for my lunch. I looked at the screen. It was Eric’s daughter, Sherry.

  “Hi, hon,” I said as I walked out into the cold air. I tugged my coat tight around me.

  “Mrs. C.!” She was yelling so loud, I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “You’ve got to solve this mystery so Dad can marry Abbie!”

  Sherry was frantic. I understood. That was how I felt on the inside. “I guess you talked to your father?”

  “Yes! And I need to come home, but he won’t let me.”

  I jammed the phone between my head and my shoulder and dug through the mess in my purse for my keys. I needed to clean it out.

  “There’s not much you could do here,” I said. “It doesn’t make sense for you to miss school. And you need to calm down. Getting hysterical isn’t going to help.”

  I heard her take a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine. I understand totally. This has been a nightmare.”

  “So are you going to solve this?”

  “I’m going to try.” I unlocked my SUV and climbed in. The sun had been shining through the windows, and I was grateful for the relative warmth of the interior.

  “I’m going to call you when I can,” she said. “And Tommy might have some ideas, too. I talked to him.”

  “That’s fine. I can use all the input I can get.”

  Unlike Detective Reid, I welcomed help from any source. And a college student at a distance might have a different perspective.

  Sherry interrogated me for the next twenty minutes while I drove to the fellowship hall. She’d learned well from her father. I told her everything I knew. Then we said our good-byes.

  Before I reached the fellowship hall, I turned onto the road Abbie told me about. The one that passed around the church property and would have allowed someone access through the woods to the back of the property where Philip had been shot. I drove slowly and noticed a dirt road leading back into the trees. If I had my bearings right, this headed toward the hall.

  I pulled my SUV into the entrance, trying to avoid tree limbs that threatened to scrape the paint off the side of my vehicle. The road narrowed, and the woods closed in around me. I stopped. Perhaps this was only a parking place for hunters or kids.

  If nothing else, this isolated spot would have made a great hiding place for a vehicle while the murderer shot Philip. I wished I could investigate more, but I felt uneasy. I backed up, pulled onto the road, and headed for the fellowship hall.

  The yellow police tape had been removed from the church property. Things looked normal. I let myself into the building. I wasn’t really expecting to find anything. I was sure the police had been thorough. I just wanted to get a sense of things. Maybe some flash of insight.

  I looked all over the kitchen. In corners and cupboards. But I found nothing. Then I leaned against the kitchen island and tried to imagine what had happened. What had Philip done after Abbie left for McDonald’s? Why had he gone to the backyard of the church?

  I mentally shook myself. I was only postponing the inevitable. Going outside. Where a rifle shot had ended Philip’s life.

  As I walked down the steps, I averted my gaze from where Philip had bled to death. Instead, I glanced up into the woods. Who had been up there? I could almost imagine eyes gazing at me.

  I heard the distant sound of a car engine, and it brought me back to reality. After a stabilizing breath, I approached the spot where Philip’s body had been. I hated the thought that he had died so unexpectedly. As he died, had he known it was the end? Had he known the Lord?

  I glanced up at the woods. A breeze whispered through the bare trees, and I shivered in my coat. This spot was so isolated. A great place to commit a murder. I wondered what the police looked at. There was something called a line of sight, I thought, but I knew very little about crime scene investigation.

  The sound of the car engine came closer, then I heard a vehicle pull in front of the building. The engine stopped. A car door opened and slammed shut.

  I felt a brief surge of panic, thinking maybe I should hide. But that was silly. My SUV was parked right out front. Besides, the scene had been cleared. I could conceivably be here for church business.

  Squaring my shoulders, I jogged up the back stairs, mentally fortifying my excuses for being here. I yanked the door open and came face-to-face with Corporal Fletcher.

  “Mrs. C.,” he said as he moved aside and made a motion for me to enter the room.

  I’d never seen him angry, but there was no doubt that at this moment, he was furious. At me. Under his bushy brows, his eyes were emitting sparks. All the reasons for my presence here fled my brain.

  He shut the back door with more force than necessary then settled his full gaze on me. “Didn’t I tell you to stay away from all of this?”

  I felt as if the fire from his eyes was burning my retinas as we stared at each other. “Yes, you did, but I needed to, um, do something for, uh, my mother. . . .” My voice trailed away.

  The slight shaking of his head told me he saw right through my half-truth. “I was not joking when I told you to stay away.”

  I have the unfortunate inability to stay intimidated for long, and the corporal’s anger triggered my self-defense mechanism. “I’m not a child, Corporal Fletcher. And I’m not here just playing around.”

  He took a deep breath. “I know why you’re here. Eric told me you’d been to his office. And you offered to investigate.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Yes. And he also told me that he tried to dissuade you. And yet here you are.”

  “How did you know I was coming here?”

  “Because you asked him if the state police were through with the scene. And I also happened to see you from the woods.”

  “You mean. . .”

  “Yeah. I was up in the woods looking things over.” The sparks in his eyes had turned to flaming embers. “You got any idea how easy it would have been to pick you off? If I had been someone with, let’s say, bad intentions? Like maybe the same person who shot a hole in Philip Grenville?” His voice had risen to a loud growl.

  I swallowed then felt unexpected tears prickle my eyelids, so I looked down at my feet. To have kindhearted Corporal Fletcher so angry with me hurt.

  “Mrs. C., can’t you understand what I’m saying? I got too much to worry about right now without you in the mix. I don’t have time for this.” He turned away from me and began pacing.

  I let him pace for a minute or so, hoping it would calm him down. Then I glanced up at him. He stopped walking and met my gaze. I felt a tear run down my cheek.

  “Aw, man.” His bunched facial muscles relaxed, and the flame in his eyes died. “I made you cry.” He swore under his breath. “I’m sorry.”

  I shook my head and sniffled. “It isn’t just you. I’m so worried. Abbie is my closest friend. In some ways, she’s closer to me than Max. She finally has a chance to be happy. . . .” I gripped
the kitchen island tightly with my hands. “That wedding has got to happen.”

  “That’s the way I feel about Eric.” Corporal Fletcher eyed me for a long time, and I could tell he was deciding whether he wanted to say anything else to me.

  I waited.

  “I’m here doing what you’re doing,” he said finally. “I’m here on my own time, and I’m telling you ’cause I don’t want Eric to know. I don’t want anyone to know, including Abbie. I could get in trouble. You gotta promise me, Mrs. C.”

  “You’re not going to tell Eric?”

  The corporal shook his head. “No way. He’s my commanding officer. He can’t know. He’d have to order me to stop. I wouldn’t want to break my word to him. And I wouldn’t want him to get in trouble for what I’m doing.”

  “Okay. You’ve got my word.” The corporal’s confession surprised me, yet at the same time it didn’t. “So you’re really doing the same thing I am? Trying to help Abbie and Eric?”

  “Yes. At the risk of being charged with misconduct and insubordination if someone finds out.”

  “But you were here the night they were collecting evidence. Why did you come back today? What more could you find out? Do you think they did a sloppy job investigating?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think they missed anything, but I wanted to revisit the scene. Just to think about what happened.” He motioned toward the back door. “I’m going to look out there.”

  “You mind if I come?”

  “Nope. Glad for the company.”

  I felt much safer with the corporal along. I stayed quiet so as not to disturb him. He stood looking up into the woods.

  “Great place for a shooting,” he finally said. “Easy access. Easy escape.”

  “But why was Philip out here?” I asked. “Why was his car parked down the road? Abbie said when she left that he was out front.”

  He glanced at me. “That’s one of my questions. Doesn’t make much sense, does it? Unless someone made him come out here. Or walked out here with him.” Corporal Fletcher took a deep breath. “That’s the thing. Who knew he was here? This was at least slightly premeditated. Even if someone by chance had a gun in the trunk of their car, they still had to know Philip was out here alone and then hide their car and shoot him. You see why it looks bad for Abbie? And why Eric is concerned even though he won’t admit it?”