The Bengal Identity

by Eileen Watkins

  Dawn returned promptly at six to drop off a microwaveable pot of vegetarian stew, then vanished again, a bohemian version of the Good Fairy. Mark arrived about half an hour later, and we embraced like survivors of the same battlefield. It might have been only the aroma of the simmering food and our hunger pangs that kept our behavior PG-rated, for the moment. Over dinner, he related all the frantic activity at the clinic, with doctors and staffers reporting for work on what should have been their only full day off.

  “In the end, I think we did the best we could.” He helped himself to another serving of Dawn’s stew. “A few of the cats almost certainly will have to be euthanized—they’re too far gone. Most can recover, though, if they get the right treatment. The SPCA has offered to foot the bill for that, though I’m sure they aren’t rolling in cash, either.”

  “They’ve got a tough job.” I refilled our wineglasses. “Imagine walking in on situations like that all the time. I don’t think I could take it.”

  Later on, the two of us were chilling out watching a sitcom—neither being in the mood for any crime shows—when my phone rang. I saw the ID and let it go to voice mail.

  Mark glanced at me in curiosity. “Solicitor?”

  “Bonelli. I just don’t feel like any more cop talk right now.” But since I knew she must be responding to my call, at the next commercial I listened to her message. It didn’t tell me anything I hadn’t already considered. The handwritten note might have been from Rick, and if so, he was securely in custody. In case it was left by one of his employees, though, I should keep my eyes open. She wanted to see the original tomorrow.

  When I put down the phone, Mark had muted the TV and wore a concerned look. “What did she want?”

  Okay, he’d gone through the whole ordeal with me today, and if somebody did plan to cause trouble at my place overnight, Mark deserved some warning. I explained about the note, got it from my purse, and showed it to him.

  As he read it, his face darkened.

  “If Rick or Teri wrote it, I probably don’t have anything to worry about,” I pointed out. “I’m just wondering if it could have been one of Rick’s partners. They must still be out there somewhere.”

  Mark laid a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “I don’t think you have to be concerned about that, either. Let me get something from my car.”

  Without further explanation, he went down the stairs and out to my parking lot. I followed and met him as he came back in. Mark doesn’t completely trust electronic records, and likes to carry an old-school planner that includes a calendar, an address book, and compartments for business cards and notes. From one of these slots, he pulled a similar piece of lined paper. He unfolded it and cursed under his breath.

  “You got one, too?”

  He showed me his note. Dated a few days earlier, it read: I’ll be delayed just a little tomorrow because I have an 8:30 dentist appointment. Will stay late to make up. Sorry for any inconvenience!—Jennifer.

  I almost laughed. “You can’t be serious.”

  Mark whipped out his own phone and began punching numbers.

  I touched his arm. “Now, now. Take a deep breath. You don’t want dear Jennifer to be able to twist things around and claim you threatened her.”

  “You’re right.” With a frown, he pondered his options for a minute. Only then did he redial.

  He got voice mail, which probably was a blessing. “Jennifer Hood, this is Dr. Mark Coccia. I’ve just become aware that Cassie McGlone, of Cassie’s Comfy Cats, received an unsigned note making a vague accusation and threat against her. She showed it to me, and I recognized your handwriting. You should know that she is turning it over to the police, and I am also going to tell them about the stunts you pulled while working at my clinic, for which I dismissed you. They all have been documented and confirmed by my colleague Dr. Reed and the rest of the staff. If you harass us or Cassie McGlone in any way, I will take legal action. And if this is typical of the way you go after your goals, Ms. Hood, I suggest you get some professional help before you end up in even bigger trouble.”

  With no goodbye, he hung up.

  “Nice going.” I applauded him. “I’d say you’ve officially overcome your reluctance to kick butt.”

  Mark tucked the phone back into his jeans with a restrained smile. “I figure we might as well make your friendship with Bonelli work in our favor. If that doesn’t scare Jennifer off, she’s tougher than I think.”

  “It ought to do the trick.”

  “Took a lot out of me, though.” As we headed back upstairs, he asked, “Got any beer in the fridge?”

  “Absolutely,” I told him, “although this occasion almost calls for champagne.”

  I slept extremely well that night. For one thing, the last mysterious threat to my home security had been identified and neutralized. For another, hearing your boyfriend take your side against a sexy, younger rival, in polite but blistering terms, is a heck of an aphrodisiac.

  * * *

  The next morning, Mark took off early for work, and Sarah arrived at nine, minus her crutch. She’d been cleared to walk carefully on her injured leg with the soft boot and seemed to be faring well. She was able to help me more than before with feeding and watering the cats, though litter duty still involved carrying a bit too much weight. Our chores went fast as I regaled her with the adventures of the previous day. As she listened to my tale about the murder and mayhem up on the ridge, Sarah’s eyes grew wider by the minute.

  “That’s crazy,” she said. “I felt there was something a little off about that girl, but I never would’ve thought she’d be involved with not just one, but two murders.”

  “Well, how involved she was remains to be seen. Teri told me she had no idea Rick had killed anyone, but she must have suspected something. Just goes to show, Sarah—anyone mean enough to hurt someone as nice as you, on purpose, is capable of anything!”

  Once she had settled in at the sales counter, I retreated to the playroom for privacy and finally responded to the three phone messages my mother had left the day before. She’d heard on the news and read in the paper about the raid on the backwoods cattery, the discovery of a body in a nearby mine shaft, and the probable connection to another man murdered a couple of weeks back. My name and Mark’s were mentioned as participants in the raid. Fortunately, the police seemed to have omitted the detail about my being held at gunpoint.

  I didn’t tell Mom about that part, either, and I minimized the drama of Rick’s capture. “While the cops were searching for him, he’d been bitten by a rattlesnake and was pretty sick,” I explained. “So they were able to take him into custody without too much trouble.”

  “That’s incredible!” Mom said, and for a second I thought my sanitized version hadn’t convinced her. “And they said on the news that this girl Teri was working with him.”

  “She was trying to steal Ayesha for their breeding operation,” I admitted. “The whole thing was a scam from the beginning. She injured Sarah so that I would need another assistant. Then she arranged to offer her services in a way that wouldn’t make me suspicious.”

  “Now I feel even guiltier,” my mother moaned on the phone. “If I’d been able to help out, she wouldn’t have gotten that chance.”

  “She and Rick probably would have found some other way, and maybe they would even have hurt you. Don’t give it another thought, Mom. Everything turned out for the best, and now they’re both in custody.”

  I could tell from her shaky tone that she wasn’t going to calm down from this one for a while, but at least she found a way to comfort herself. “I guess it’s a good thing you’ve made friends with the local cops, isn’t it?”

  “Yes and no. Bonelli was the one who asked me and Mark to help out with the raid. But I’m glad she did—the SPCA needed the extra hands, and we got most of those cats into either the clinic or the local animal shelter.”

  The phone went silent for a minute, so that I thought we’d lost our connection. “Mom?”
/>
  “I’m still here,” she said quietly. “You’ve really found your calling, haven’t you, Cassie?”

  The question startled me, but I understood what she meant. Not just operating the shop, grooming and boarding the cats. But advocating for them and protecting them from people who would neglect or harm them.

  I chuckled to lighten the mood and admitted, “Yeah, I guess I have. Too bad it involves animals you aren’t too fond of.”

  “Well, for your sake,” she promised, “I’ll try to get over it.”

  We clicked off soon after that, without Mom finding out that I’d been held at gunpoint by a double-murderer. With any luck, she never would.

  There were no special appointments scheduled that morning, so I left Sarah in charge while I walked to the police station. I popped into Bonelli’s office and gave her my note from Jennifer Hood. She already had heard from Mark and said it was smart of him to cover his tracks with the former receptionist.

  “If the girl’s that bent, she might try to accuse him of sexual harassment and claim he fired her because she wouldn’t cooperate,” said Bonelli, sitting across her desk from me. “It sounds, though, as if just about everyone at his clinic can testify that this Jennifer was the troublemaker.”

  “That’s probably lucky for him,” I agreed. “Could be worse—when I first opened that note, I thought maybe it had been left by Rick, or one of his partners. Teri did say he was working with a couple of other guys, and I figure they’re still on the loose.”

  “Oh, we got one of them last night,” Bonelli told me, with a grim smile. “We had an APB out for a green truck with Rick’s plates. State troopers pulled it over in the next county, with a Jim Duprey behind the wheel. Guess he was smart enough to ditch Schaeffer and take the company signage off the truck, but didn’t have a chance to change the plates.”

  I shook my head. “Sounds like you’ve nailed most of the culprits, then.”

  “I’d say so. If there was anybody else involved with the operation, they’re on the run by now.”

  “Which leaves Teri. What’s happening with her?”

  “She’s got a lawyer, and she might get off a bit easier than her boyfriend. Of course, that stunt with the rattlesnake will count against her. She told me she found it in the garden shed, curled up in an empty burlap sack. She was carrying it into the woods to turn it loose when she spotted Rick’s ATV. She knew he always stashed energy bars in that cargo box for long drives around the property, and she’d often seen him reach in for one without even looking. She said it was no problem to just let the snake crawl out of the bag into the box and close the lid.”

  “Lucky for all of us that she did, really,” I admitted. “I guess Teri got desperate. She was isolated out there with Rick, she suspected he’d killed at least one person, he was beating her up, and he had a gun. To poison him in some sneaky way must have seemed like the only escape.”

  “Well, she’s spilling the beans to us in exchange for a lighter sentence. The fact that she’s claiming abuse will help, and she has the bruises to prove it. Plus, Schaeffer’s got a couple of priors for assault—one road-rage incident and one bar fight.”

  Sounded like a guy with a world-class temper. Still, I had to ask, “How’s he doing? Baylock said he might lose the arm.”

  “Don’t think it will be that bad, but he’s got nerve damage and will need skin grafts. He’ll be fit enough to stand trial.”

  Good, I thought. Let everybody hear what he’d been up to. He’d be tried for the murders, of course, but in the process, there should also be multiple charges of animal abuse for the horrendous conditions at his farm.

  I glanced up from my musings to find Bonelli staring at me. Her heavy-lidded, evaluating look always made me straighten up in my seat.

  “You’re really earning your stripes these days as a detective, aren’t you?” she commented.

  “My tabby stripes?” I joked, to deflect the scrutiny. “I do seem to specialize in cat-related crimes.”

  “At the start, yeah. But we got to the bottom of two murders with the help of your tips. If you hadn’t been concerned about Pete Reardon, or whatever name he gave you, we’d have found his body but probably never connected him with Schaeffer. And unless we had reason to raid the farm because of Teri’s information, who knows how long it would have taken to find Todd?”

  I leaned back in my hard metal chair and sighed. “His poor parents. Do you have any idea how they’re taking all this?”

  “When I talked to them, they were pretty devastated. Even though, after a week, they had to be expecting the worst.”

  “Are they having a funeral?”

  “Friday, family only. But there’s a viewing the night before, five to seven, at Dewey’s.”

  A few minutes later, walking back to my shop, I reflected that two very smart women had just proposed different suggestions for my life’s calling. Should I keep working with cats or go into law enforcement?

  Much as I respected Detective Bonelli’s opinion, it was no contest. Mom might struggle to get over the idea of me devoting my time to a species of animal that gave her the willies. Her blood pressure would probably shoot sky-high, though, if I actually chased down criminals for a living.

  Plus, what on earth would I be able to tell her then, when she asked about my day at work?

  Chapter 22

  The Dewey Funeral Home was right in Chadwick, and sadly, this was not the first time I had attended a viewing there. I brought Dawn along for moral support, because I didn’t expect to know anyone.

  In fact, I only recognized Bob Gillis because I’d seen him flip out on Chadwick Day when he saw someone else driving Todd’s car. He resembled Todd if you overlooked his glasses, his trim beard and mustache, and his more conventionally barbershop-styled gray hair. His dark suit looked as if he might have purchased it years ago when he had a trimmer waist. His slim wife, Julia, had let her short hair go naturally silver—it was becoming, I thought, and refreshing, when most women would have dyed it. She wore a very plain, three-quarter-sleeved black dress that looked as if she might have purchased it just for funerals. Or maybe just for this one.

  I’d heard that the loss of a child is the hardest kind to bear, and that seemed true for the Gillises. They both wore haunted, hollowed-out expressions. To my surprise, though, they brightened when I introduced myself and Dawn.

  Julia took one of my hands in both of hers and squeezed it. “Cassie, my dear, how can we ever thank you?”

  I thought she meant for coming to the viewing. “I just wanted to pay my respects, because I know all of this must have been terrible for the two of you.”

  “We heard, though, how much you did to solve Todd’s murder,” Bob explained. “Detective Bonelli said you helped catch that girl who sold the car to Danny Lorenzo. If it wasn’t for that, the cops might never have connected Todd’s . . . murder. . . to that cat business out in the woods.”

  “And if they never went looking out there, Cassie, who knows how much longer it might’ve taken to find out what happened to Todd? Or if we ever would have?” Julia Gillis dabbed at her nose with a tissue. “Awful as the truth was, at least now Bob and I have some . . . what d’you call it? Closure.”

  I hadn’t really thought of it like that before. “I only wish I’d been able to help sooner.”

  Dawn explained that she had been doing business with Teri and Rick, though just for a couple of months. “Cassie and I both met them and never suspected they were violent people.”

  “Unfortunately, it took a while to pick up on the signs,” I admitted.

  We made conversation for a minute longer, Julia noting that they’d decided on a closed coffin. “Todd was so young.... We want people to remember him as we will—full of life, always joking and flirting.”

  “He did like the girls.” Bob smiled with a wag of his head. “I could tell he had a crush on you, Cassie, from the way he talked. I remember him telling me that you said your dream car would be a van you co
uld take around to groom people’s cats. He thought it was too practical, but I told him it sounded sensible and that you probably had a good head for business.”

  Strange to imagine Todd discussing me with his parents. “Just a fantasy, I’m afraid. I’ve priced the kind of van I’d need, and even used, it would be way beyond my budget.”

  “Well, now, you never know. People sometimes bring me vehicles like that—old campers or food trucks or even ambulances. If the repairs are too high for them, they might say, ‘Forget it, I’ll just get a new one.’ Then I usually pass the van on to a used-car dealer. But if you’re really interested, I could keep an eye out for you.”

  Sounded like a long shot, but he was kind to offer. “That’s very nice of you, Mr. Gillis. I’d appreciate it.”

  A few minutes later, the four of us were joined by a buxom but conservatively dressed blond named Tammy, whom they introduced as their daughter. Married and with a couple of kids, she had driven up from Delaware. It made me feel better to know that Todd’s parents had another grown child, even though she lived at a distance.

  Soon after, Dawn and I discreetly made our exit. Outside, I whispered to her, “Funny, isn’t it? Todd was so annoying that he provoked Rick Schaeffer into shooting him, but his folks are such nice people.”

  “Sounds like they saw him through rose-colored glasses, too,” Dawn said. “I guess romantic love isn’t the only kind that can be blind.”

  I proposed hitting Chad’s for dinner, but she reminded me that I ought to feed my boarders first. When I pulled into the small lot behind my shop, I was taken aback to see the blue RAV4 parked there. “That’s odd.”

  “You weren’t expecting Mark?” Dawn asked.

  “Not tonight. And he didn’t leave me any phone messages. Hope nothing’s wrong.”

  I unlocked the back door and went to turn off my alarm, but it already had been disarmed. That was strange, too. Dawn was the only one who knew the code . . . unless at some point Mark had looked over my shoulder while I was punching it into the keypad.