Kitty Litter Killer

by Candice Speare Prentice

  My stomach rolled into a knot. “Yep, I see. And I don’t even know who the suspects are. The other times I’ve been involved with a murder, they were obvious. This time the only obvious suspect is Abbie, and I know she’s not guilty.”

  “You know that. I know that. Eric knows that, but she’s lookin’ real good as a suspect, Mrs. C. If I was the lead on this case, I’d be lookin’ pretty close at her. There’s stuff that points at her, and—”

  My mouth went dry. “Like what?”

  He shifted from one foot to the other. “Not sure I can tell you that. Don’t want to be accused of compromising the investigation.”

  I wanted to stomp my feet and scream that the investigation was already compromised if they were looking at Abbie.

  Corporal Fletcher’s attention had left me, and he was looking at the ground where Philip’s body had been. I refused to look down.

  “Mm-hmm,” he said. Then he knelt.

  The thought of kneeling anywhere near where the blood had been made me feel like the onion rings, cheeseburger, and Mountain Dew were congealing in my stomach. I turned my face toward the woods and tried to clear my mind.

  “This is interesting,” Corporal Fletcher said. I glanced at his head out of the corner of my eye. He stood and wiped his knees with one hand and held out something for me to see with the other. “They found some of this the other night. I wanna know what you think.”

  That got my attention. “That looks like a tiny piece of. . .gravel. . .wait.” I bent over his hand. “That’s cat litter. I know because I just bought some for Sammie’s new kitten.”

  He grinned. “A clue for you, Mrs. C.”

  “Cat litter.” I thought about the Adlers.

  The corporal’s eyes narrowed. “You got a thought about this, don’t you?” He dropped the piece of litter and stared at me.

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

  “Okay, we’ll come back to that in a minute. Right now I want you to think back about the body.”

  My stomach lurched. “I don’t want to. I feel like throwing up.”

  Corporal Fletcher nodded. “I understand. Just try to think of it as a body, not a person.”

  My mind didn’t seem to want to make that differentiation, but I took a deep breath and ordered my stomach to behave. “Okay.”

  “Did you see his face?”

  “How am I supposed to think of it as just a body when you want me to think about his face?” I snapped.

  Corporal Fletcher patted my arm again. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. So did you see his face?”

  I swallowed hard. “Yes. For a few seconds.”

  “Anything you noticed? Different from a normal face?”

  I thought about it. Philip’s eyes had been closed. And there had been some discoloration around his eye. I looked up at Corporal Fletcher. “Like. . .bruises? Maybe a black eye?”

  He nodded. “Good so far.”

  “Oh, I see. This is a guessing game. It’s a clue. Evidence. But you’re not going to tell me. So you can’t be accused of compromising anything.”

  “You got it.”

  I bit my lip and thought about it. Then I realized what he was getting at. “Someone hit Philip. And it wasn’t at the time of his murder. It was before.”

  Corporal Fletcher smiled. “Smart cookie.”

  I felt proud, like I’d passed a test. “So someone was possibly angry enough at him to hit him. And that same person could have been angry enough to kill him.”

  “Bingo. And you figured it out yourself. I didn’t tell you.” Black eye. Fight. Anger.

  Once again, I thought of the Adlers.

  As if he could read my face and knew I had some suspicions, Corporal Fletcher motioned to the stairs. “Let’s go inside and talk.”

  I glanced around, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “You know, it would be just as easy for someone to shoot both of us out here.”

  He smiled. “I’ve been listening for cars. Haven’t heard a thing.”

  Back inside the church hall, we stood in the kitchen. I was on one side of the island, and he was on the other.

  “You’re not going to stop looking into this, are you?” he asked.

  Feeling a little bit like Charlie when he was rebelling, I crossed my arms. “No, I’m not going to stop looking into this.”

  “You got one of those notebooks in your purse, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” I glared at him. “Yes, I do.” It was annoying that he and Eric knew me so well.

  He held up his hand, placating me. “It’s okay.” His gaze was searching. “I trust you, Mrs. C. You’re good people. And you got good instincts, too. Seeing as how I can’t stop you from doing this, how about a partnership?”

  “Partnership? Just a few minutes ago you were lecturing me about being involved. Now you want to partner with me?”

  “Well, I can change my mind.” He paced the kitchen again. “I got my reasons. Among them, it’ll be easier to keep tabs on you. Plus, you can find out things that I can’t.” He stopped pacing and stared at me. “And that way, you have to tell me what you know.”

  “And in turn, that means you’ll have to tell me what you know?”

  At his pause, I knew this wasn’t going to be an equal deal. That figured. “Why should I partner with you when you aren’t going to share with me?”

  “I’ll be straight with you, Mrs. C. It’s bad enough I’m doing this on my own time. But I got certain rules I won’t cross. One of them is sharing official evidence in an investigation. Not that I’m going to know all the evidence. But still, even if I told you what I know, that could jeopardize the case.”

  “Well, I won’t—”

  “Okay, I’ll put it this way. If it ever came out that I was telling you things only the cops know, a murderer could go free, and I could lose my job and my pension. But if it’s something you could easily know, I’ll tell you. Or we’ll play another guessing game.”

  I had to understand that. “Can I at least tell Max?” Corporal Fletcher blinked.

  “He’s worried sick about my doing this. It would relieve his mind, and he won’t tell a soul.”

  Corporal Fletcher studied me then finally nodded. “I’ll trust you two. Just remember. This could really hurt my career.”

  That’s when I realized how much Eric meant to Corporal Fletcher. That he would go to this length to help him said a lot about their friendship. I could relate to that kind of loyalty. Abbie and Eric had to succeed with two good friends who would risk everything for them.

  “All right. I agree. We’ll work together.” I suddenly felt like Watson to his Sherlock Holmes.

  “Okay, so spill. What’s in that notebook of yours?”

  I pulled out my notebook and read my few clues to him. Then I told him about the Adlers and the kitty litter.

  “I can look into that,” he said. “See if there’s something someone knows. Be careful, Mrs. C. Sounds like they’re angry.”

  “They’re definitely that,” I said. “And I’m sorry. I don’t know a lot yet.”

  “But it’s a beginning.”

  “So I guess I’ll call you when I learn anything,” I said.

  “Yes. I’ll give you my cell phone number.” He pulled out a business card and a pen and jotted his number on the back. Then he handed it to me.

  He grinned at me. “This is very unusual for me. To ask for help from someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?”

  “A civilian who isn’t an informant. It’s against all proper procedure.”

  I smiled back. “Well, you’ll find me to be a good partner.” I paused. “Can you tell me if Abbie is the only person of interest?”

  He shrugged. “She’s looking the best. There might be others, but I don’t know for sure. Since this went to the state, I’m not privy to much.”

  A few minutes later, I watched him climb into his car. As I opened the door to my SUV, I looked down at the gravel. One of Abbie’s butto
ns lay next to my tire. It had been smashed flat. I picked it up. Too bad. But a flattened button was the least of her worries.

  Chapter Ten

  Before I pulled out of the parking lot, I glanced at my watch. I had a little more time before I had to pick up Chris. I wanted to find out how Abbie was doing. I called her and she picked up right away, which surprised me.

  “Hi,” I said. “Are you okay?”

  “Better than last night in some ways, but I need to talk to you.”

  “I’m on my way to your house right now.”

  Twenty minutes later, I was in her living room. She had applied makeup and was dressed in a nice pair of jeans and a tailored shirt, all of which was a good sign because it meant she was trying to regain some control of her life. However, the circles under her bloodshot eyes and the drawn expression on her face told the real story.

  After I hugged her, I looked around. She had made an effort to straighten up. I was glad for that. That meant she had some fight in her.

  “Have you eaten anything?” I asked.

  “I forced myself to eat lunch—some of what your mother sent over,” she said.

  “Good,” I said. “You want me to make some coffee or tea?”

  She shook her head.

  “Okay.” I dropped into a chair and put my purse at my feet. “I’ve been to see Eric.”

  “I know. He called and told me.” She swallowed and blinked. “He doesn’t say so, but I can hear in his voice that he’s angry with me for not telling him about Philip.”

  “Do you blame him? I was a little irritated myself. You do have a habit of keeping things to yourself.”

  “You’re right.” She took a deep breath. “And I’m trying. That’s why I asked you to come. Because I need to come clean and tell you everything.”

  My heart plummeted. “What do you mean, ‘everything’? Abbie, what else could there be?” I realized immediately how harsh I’d sounded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  “Yes, you did.” She stuck her chin in the air. “And I suppose you’ve told me every little detail about your life? There’s nothing I don’t know?”

  Some color had returned to her face. Perhaps the two of us semiquarreling wasn’t a bad thing.

  “Okay,” I said. “You have a point. Except that I’m not a suspect in a murder.”

  “And that’s why I’m telling you this. Because I am—now. I wasn’t before.”

  That made sense in an odd way. “Have you told Eric wh`at you’re about to tell me?”

  “I sent him an e-mail. I haven’t heard back.” She was pumping her leg up and down, a nervous habit she’d had since she was a kid. She had tried to conquer it as an adult, but the bouncing returned when she was stressed out.

  “Philip wrote me a letter two weeks ago. I returned it to him unopened. With a letter of my own telling him to leave me alone. I know it sounded. . .almost threatening.”

  “And the police found it?”

  “Yes. He had it with him at his mother’s house.”

  “So you didn’t look at his letter at all?”

  “No. I just didn’t want to be reminded of the past.” She picked up a pillow and put it in her lap. “You remember back then, right?”

  “Yeah, I do,” I said.

  “I thought we’d be happy forever,” Abbie murmured. “I thought he loved me. But then I started hearing all the rumors of other women.”

  I nodded but didn’t speak. I couldn’t because I still carried some anger in my heart against the man—now dead—who had devastated my best friend.

  “Um, the last couple of times I confronted him, he hit me.” She wouldn’t meet my gaze.

  “Hit you?” I felt like I’d been punched. “He hit you? And you never told me?”

  She blushed but looked defensive, too. “I was so humiliated at the time, dealing with his infidelities. Like everyone was staring at me. And it only happened a couple of times.”

  “But I’m your best friend. Why couldn’t you tell me? Eric asked me today if there were things in your past that you were keeping secret. I assured him there weren’t, but you’re like a book of secrets.”

  “I was so young at the time. He was a cop. He wore a badge and carried a gun. When he spoke, people listened. He held that over my head. You know. . .while we were married, he used to tell me that he could. . .make me disappear? I was terrified.”

  I was gritting my teeth and trying not to hate a dead man. “So what happened? I know he supposedly just walked out of your life. Is that really how it went?”

  “Yes, pretty much. Well, I took pictures of the last batch of bruises he left on me. I made copies and put them in a safe-deposit box, but I didn’t need them.” She frowned. “Something else happened. I’m not sure what, but he came home in an unusual mood one night. Unfocused. Maybe a little scared. He started packing a suitcase. Said he was leaving me and leaving town.”

  “That was good, right?”

  “Yes, but weird, too. I didn’t understand. But that’s when I did the first thing I can say makes me proud. I went immediately to a lawyer and filed for divorce. He assured me that with the proof I had, I was fine. Then I went home, packed up the rest of Philip’s things, put them in the garage, and changed the locks on the house. I had him served with the papers. I also sent him a letter.”

  “A letter?”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, that letter was even more hostile than the one I just sent him a month ago. I basically threatened him with retaliation if he tried to talk to me again.”

  “Violence?”

  “No.” She inhaled. “But I didn’t say exactly what. I don’t remember what I said, but it was something along the lines of ‘If you bother me again, I will make sure it’s the last time.’ I meant, of course, that I would drag him into court.

  “But, Trish, he kept the letter, along with the divorce papers. The investigators found it, too, along with the one I sent him a month ago. Between the two of those letters, I pretty much spelled out exactly what he had done to me back then. So the police know everything.”

  “Oh boy.” I didn’t know what else to say, but I understood why Detective Reid was looking so closely at Abbie. Suspicion of revenge.

  “Maybe you don’t understand,” Abbie said softly. “It’s been nine years. When I suddenly got a letter out of the blue and then Philip showed up and started following me, I panicked. I realized I was still afraid of him.”

  “I can understand that,” I said, but I wasn’t sure I really did. I’d never been abused.

  “You know what’s really bad?” Abbie bit down on her lower lip.

  “Um, everything?”

  That earned me an eye roll from her, despite the seriousness of the topic. “My emotions. They’re so mixed. That’s making the interviews and everything harder, because I walk in there feeling bad and walk out even worse off.”

  “The system is designed to break you down,” I said.

  “Yes, I know that, but this is much deeper.” Her fingers spasmodically clutched at the pillow in her lap. “I feel like such a bad person to even say this, but there was a part of me that was relieved Philip was dead. That meant there was no potential for him to contact me again. I could finally really and truly move on.” She glanced at me. “That’s horrible, isn’t it?”

  “No,” I said. “Normal, I think. Remember how I felt a bit of relief when Jim Bob died?”

  Some of the tension on her face left. “I’d forgotten that. But. . .here’s where it gets all mixed up.” She pulled the pillow to her chest as if to protect herself. “After that initial feeling of relief, I was hit with horrible sorrow. Like I’d lost the marriage all over again. And then I wondered if there was more I could have done to make it work. Was it my fault? And was I responsible for his not following the Lord?” She hiccupped. “The guilt has been unbelievable. And it’s made me wonder if everything that’s happening now is some kind of judgment from God. That I don’t deserve. . .Eric. . .or happiness. . .” She dr
opped her head into the pillow and cried silently, shoulders shaking.

  That I couldn’t hear her cries made them all the worse. I began to cry, too, and scooted over to the sofa to hold her. “I’m sorry,” I murmured as I rubbed her back. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  After several minutes, I felt her sobs die. She inhaled, and I knew she was done.

  I sat back and handed her another tissue. “You’re probably going to have to wash that pillow.”

  She smiled weakly. “It is a mess, isn’t it?” She laid it back on her lap. “I’m sorry for being such a wreck.”

  “Don’t you ever apologize to me for anything like that.” I clenched my fists, wanting to pound on something. “Abbie, this is not God’s judgment. You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  “In the darkest night, I do.” She paused and frowned. “In the light of day? Maybe I don’t then. I’m just so tired and worn out from all the questions. I feel like I’ve been. . .battered again.”

  Enough was enough. I grabbed my purse, yanked my notebook and pen from its depths, and settled back on the couch.

  Abbie’s face brightened. “You really are going to try to solve this? Eric said you might. And he also said he told you not to.”

  “Has that ever stopped me before?” I asked.

  “No. And I have to say at this point, I’m relieved.”

  I wished I could tell her that Corporal Fletcher was working with me, because that would double her sense of security, but I couldn’t.

  “Do you think I would let you do this alone?” I held the pen over the steno pad. “I can’t be there in the interview room with you to protect you from the bulldog, but I can try to solve this mystery so she’ll leave you alone.” I grinned. “I could take her, you know.”

  Abbie did break a smile for that. “Oh, I’m sure you could.”

  The atmosphere momentarily lightened. I sat back. “Let’s get busy. Is there anything else you think would help me?”