"You're not in disguise like you were the other times you stopped by."
"Nothing gets past you." He grinned.
My eyes narrowed. "Explain."
"No."
"Explain or I'll get some rope and mayonnaise and a Phillips-head screwdriver."
Riley gently nudged the cats off his lap. "I've got to go. I will tell you this: the name Kate Becks does ring a bell."
He stood over me, his eyes searching mine for something. I could swear his pheromones were in overdrive. Was he trying to seduce me? I took a step backward to dodge any advance.
"You should go." I walked over and held the door open for him.
Riley reached up and, very gently, stroked my cheek. I could feel my skin redden.
"Always good to see you, Merry." He kissed me on the forehead and left.
I shook off my confusion. This wasn't the right time to deal with whatever this was. Instead, I pulled up Kate's laptop and started going through it. Now that Riley confirmed that this woman was something, maybe I'd find something I'd missed before.
The woman was seriously obsessed with her dead cat. I looked over at my two felines. Philby was watching Martini chase her tail until she got dizzy and fell over. I guess I could understand Kate's love for her pets. Maybe I was even crazy enough to have them stuffed when they died. Did I just think that?
Picture after picture of Mr. Pickles sitting, eating, sleeping, and looking annoyed filled the screen. This was all Kate had on her laptop. It didn't make sense. If it's all just cat pictures, why was this in her safe room?
I took a break for lunch—which consisted of the easiest things to make in my house, a can of SpaghettiOs and package of leftover Scout cookies. Something was off. Was it her extreme focus on her cat? An idea crawled into my head, and I grabbed the keys and hit the road.
"Merry!" Randi clapped her hands with glee when I walked into Ferguson Taxidermy. "I'm so glad you're here! I had an idea for the wedding! It isn't ready yet, since the glue on the bull horns isn't completely dry, and…"
Ronni stomped into the room, preceded by her scowl. "You find that deadbeat who left the cat here?"
"Not yet." I smiled as affectionately as I could. "But I was wondering if I could look at her cat/Roomba thingy?"
"No." Ronni frowned, folding her arms over her chest.
"Now Ronni," Randi chastised. "Merry is trying to track this woman down for us. I can't see any harm in letting her see it."
The angry twin threw her hands up in the air. "I want no part of this!" And she left the room, muttering something about HIPPA laws and regulations.
"Don't worry." Randi smiled. "HIPPA only applies to people. Not their dead pets."
She led me to another room and pointed me toward the cat. The shotgun doorbell went off in the main showroom, and she excused herself.
As I approached the dead thing on the appliance, I couldn't help but admire the job they'd done. The feline cruiser looked like at any moment she'd hiss at me. The eyes seemed to take me in as I picked it up.
Of course, that meant I picked up the robot vacuum too. Which made it heavier. After a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure Randi wasn't there, I examined the small, round appliance.
Poking and prodding, I checked out every millimeter of the thing. I found the charging port and the dustbin. If Kate hid something, she wouldn't put it in the cat. The taxidermy twins would've found it. Besides, how would she put it in the cat? Wouldn't it come out the other end? My mind was taking me to a dark place I did not want to go.
No, she'd put it in the Roomba. I was sure of it. I continued to press buttons until the gadget came to life. I nearly dropped it, instead, setting it on the floor. The vacuum began to spin before it moved erratically across the floor.
The dead cat didn't seem to mind.
Why wasn't it moving in a straight line? That's how most folks vacuumed. But this was different. It almost looked like it was…I don't know, trying to tell me something as it curled to the right and left on its way across the floor.
"Oh!" Randi squeaked.
I scooped up the amalgamation of animal and appliance. "I'm sorry. It just went off."
"Did it?" Randi frowned as she took the deceased pet from me. "It hasn't been charged. Maybe it has a battery backup?"
My future sister-in-law found a tiny trapdoor I'd missed. I watched as she pressed it and it sprang open.
"A nine-volt?" Randi frowned. "How did I miss it?" She shrugged at me. "Normally we remove all power supplies when we work on something like this."
I stared at her, but why I was surprised after the blue jay, I'll never know. "You've done something like this before?"
She nodded. "We had an Irish client who had a badger he wanted holding a stun gun. Anyway, the thing went off on Ronni when she was attaching the animal to the device and zapped her. Dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. She wasn't right for two weeks after that."
Ronni had a "right"?
I peered into the tiny panel and extracted the battery. "What's this?" A small piece of paper was folded up under where the battery had been. I pulled it out.
"Was this your vacuum, or Kate's?" I asked.
"It was Kate's. We don't supply things like this anymore. Not since we put a moose on a Segway. The thing shorted and tore through our old shop like a bull in a china shop."
Or a moose on a Segway in any kind of shop.
The gunshot went off again, and Randi excused herself. That was good. I didn't want to read this in front of her. Very carefully, I unfolded the paper to find a phone number. It was the local area code and prefix. I didn't recognize the last four digits.
I refolded the note and stuffed it into my back pocket just as Randi appeared.
"What was it?" she asked.
"Just the warranty." I waved her off.
"Oh. Okay. I'm afraid I can't show you what I'm working on for the wedding. I have a new customer in the other room." Randi looked so sorrowful that I didn't tell her I was a smidge disappointed to find out what about my wedding required bull horns.
"That's fine. I can come back another time."
Upon entering the other room, I stopped dead in my tracks.
"Dr. Alvarez!" I may have said a little too loudly.
The veterinarian gave me a weak grin. "Ms. Wrath." She stood there, waiting for something. I was pretty sure she wanted me to leave. So, I did.
As I drove away I realized it wasn't that strange to see a vet at a taxidermist. In fact, I'd be willing to bet that people wanted their pets preserved more often than I'd want to think.
I wanted to go home and call the number on the note in my pocket. But a quick glance at the dashboard told me I had a more important meeting with my troop. I made it to the school just in time.
Kelly was in full-on leader mode as the girls worked on a mural featuring French icons. A plate of éclairs sat on a table, and I made a beeline for it.
Kelly shook her head. "One. You can have one. You're just as bad as the girls."
I took one éclair. I could've smuggled a second, but there were hard and fast rules about these kinds of things. Only taking one probably meant there was one for each girl only. I did a quick head count. Everyone was present and accounted for.
"Mrs. Wrath?" Betty tugged on my sleeve. "Did you find what you were looking for on that laptop?"
I drew her off to one side. "Not really. Just a bunch of pictures of a dead cat."
The girl's eyebrows went up. "A dead cat?"
"It was her pet. She had it stuffed."
"Maybe it's some sort of code?" Betty said before running back over to the painting in progress.
A code? How could dozens of pictures of an annoyed cat be a code? I had to admire Betty's imagination. I tried to think if the cat was forming a letter of the alphabet in any of the photos.
"Did you get the berets yet?" Kelly interrupted.
"They should be here in the next day or two," I said with a little pride in my voice.<
br />
"Good. Everything is almost ready. I'm starting to panic." She looked around the room.
"You?" I gasped. "Panic?"
Kelly couldn't panic! She was the calm one! What was I going to do if she panicked?
My co-leader closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She let it out and opened her eyes. "That's better. Ignore me."
"Why are you freaking out?"
"I had trouble finding the pink T-shirts, and I'm not sure how we're going to keep the éclairs cold. But it's nothing." She closed her eyes for a second. "Sorry. It's all right."
"Okay." I shrugged.
She turned to walk over to the plate of éclairs, which were now in the hands of the two Hannahs. "Don't forget, you have that sleep study tonight. At the hospital at ten."
Huh? "What are you talking about?"
Kelly rolled her eyes. "The sleep study! I signed you up for it. Remember?"
It dawned on me. "Oh. Right. Does it have to be tonight?"
"It's the only opening they have until next fall." Kelly shook her head. "I had to promise you'll be there."
I held up my hands. "No problem. I'll go tonight. What do I take?"
"Nothing. Just wear your pajamas." Kelly told me what room to report to. I told her I'd remember. She looked dubious.
For a moment, I thought about asking her to cancel. Spies and sleep studies don't usually mix well. In fact, you had to have another agent with you when you went under anesthesia. This would be a problem…if I was still a spy. But I wasn't. Not anymore. Granted, I'd worked on some cases that were still classified, but what the agency didn't know wouldn't hurt them. Right?
The girls called us over at that moment to look at the mural. Something nagged at me. I was on the verge of discovering something…but what was it?
The mural was actually quite nice. There was the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, cheese, a couple of bottles of wine, and a herd of basset hounds. Susan, being the owner of bassets, would've liked that.
"What is this?" Kelly pointed at a picture of a woman stabbing a man in a bathtub. "It almost looks like a photograph."
Lauren smiled proudly. "It isn't. I painted it. Isn't it nice?"
"It's Charlotte Corday stabbing Marat. She was trying to stop the many executions during the French Revolution," I said.
Kelly rubbed her forehead. "It doesn't need to be in our mural! How will we explain this to the Girl Scout Council? Or the girls who see it?"
I shrugged. "It's an important part of history. And if you think of it, girl empowerment."
The girls were gathered around us, making statements about the quality of the blood spatter.
"And she was executed by guillotine," Lauren said matter-of-factly.
The girls squealed with delight. It made me a little proud to see them cheering on one of my favorite historical characters. The Angel of Assassination, she was called. What Corday had done put in motion the end of The Terror in France.
Kelly stared. "It's not going to be in the mural."
Betty looked up from a guillotine covered in blood that she'd been painting and sighed.
Rex was waiting for me on the couch when I got home. My fiancé patted the seat next to him, so I sat down and leaned my head onto his shoulder.
"Rough meeting?" he asked, putting his arm around me and squeezing.
"Depends on whether you think the French Revolution is an important thing to include in our booth for Thinking Day or not."
It was wonderful leaning against him. It seemed like ages since we'd had a moment alone where we weren't discussing a crime.
Rex's voice was soothing. "If something's up, don't tell me. You and I haven't really had one moment alone that didn't involve work."
He can read minds?
"I know," I said into his chest.
Rex said, "I just realized that today. Between these fires and the missing woman and your stress and sleep disorder, we haven't had any quality time together."
He'd brought up the case, and I was dying to talk to him about it. But he was right. We hadn't had any couple cuddle time in a while.
"How about we just talk about your day?" Rex kissed the top of my head.
My day? I tried to think of something I could discuss besides the Scout meeting, but all I could remember was Riley's weird visit and my trip to the twins' shop to molest a dead cat attached to a robot.
"Just the Scout meeting. We're almost ready for Thinking Day." I told him about Betty's insistence on bloodying up the exhibit.
Rex laughed. "Thank you. I needed a good laugh. You are so lucky to have nothing but this to work on. I envy you."
"Well…" His words grated on me. "It's not like I don't do anything, exactly. And thanks for giving the Fontanas that impression."
He looked surprised. For a moment he didn't respond. "I'm so sorry. I did not mean to imply that you do nothing." Rex pulled me tighter into his embrace. "You mean everything to me, Merry. I can't wait to start our life together."
Now I felt bad for not saying anything about Riley's visit. Or visits. You weren't supposed to keep secrets in a marriage, right? If only they had an etiquette book on that.
"I just want to say how appreciative I am that you're actually staying out of this case." He continued, "Normally you'd be pumping me for intel or begging for clues."
I really felt guilty.
"And now the Feds are getting involved and I…"
With all the fake innocence I could muster, I asked, "The Feds?"
Rex looked tired. Here I was, doing exactly what he was happy about me not doing.
I leaned back. "Sorry. My brain's on autopilot when I hear stuff like that. Forget I said anything."
Rex squeezed me again. "I know it's hard. It's hard for me to not be able to talk to you about my work."
I'd bet it was way harder for me. "Someday we will have to have a real conversation that doesn't include espionage, Girl Scouts, or wedding plans."
"This isn't really your thing. I shouldn't have thrust all the planning on you."
I shook my head. "It's almost done, right? We have the date, the church, the dress. I know we still have to decide where the reception is, but what else is left to do?"
My stomach curdled and my pulse pounded. Oh yeah. I was fine.
I almost forgot! "And, I'm seeing a therapist and participating in a sleep study tonight."
Rex's eyebrows went up. "You're what?"
I nodded. "Kelly lined it up at the hospital. I have to report there at ten in my jammies."
Rex laughed. "I hope you have something other than Dora the Explorer pj's."
Did I? I was enamored with the cartoon—and once had Dora bed sheets as curtains. I always figured Dora was a secret agent and Boots was her handler.
"Come on." He stood and helped me to my feet. "If you're going to do that, we might as well send you with a full stomach. I'm taking you out for pizza."
That was exactly the right thing for him to say. I grabbed my purse, and we walked out the door.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I sat in my car, wearing my Dora pajamas, staring at the hospital. I've done a lot of strange things in my day, like escaping on a Zamboni in Prague and pretending to be a figure skater from Barbados at the Winter Olympics (needless to say, that didn't go well). But I'd never gone to a hospital and tried to sleep while people stared at me.
"This has humiliation written all over it," I said to Philby.
That's right. I brought my cat. It was even harder to relax without her. And if they really wanted to know how I slept, they'd need to see the contortions my body makes as I try to avoid disturbing my obese cat as she lay wherever she wants on the bed. It might be an important key. Besides, if anyone stopped me, I'd say my therapist suggested it. I wasn't entirely sure that would work, but I'd give it a shot.
Not that it would change anything. Philby wasn't very flexible about our sleeping arrangements.
Philby jumped up onto the dashboard, and though it was pretty broad, it was
like balancing a watermelon on a dowel rod. She fell, rather ungracefully, to the seat and glared at me like it was all my fault.
In a way, I'm sure it was.
Scooping up the cat, I exited the car and made my way into the hospital. No one was there this time of night because it was a small town. We didn't have a lot going on. Granted, we did serve all the tiny towns that surrounded us, but this was still a small population.
I followed the signs that led to the lab.
"Ms. Wrath?" A petite and pretty young woman in a lab coat met me with a smile. "I'm Dr. Tuttle. I'll be helping you through this."
She glanced at my cat and looked like she was about to say something but didn't.
I followed Dr. Tuttle down a dark hallway and into a dimly lit room. A queen-size bed was made up in the middle of the floor, and soft music played. Normally this would've made me relax, but since I was basically a lab rat, I couldn't.
Philby jumped down from my arms and onto the bed. She chose a spot dead center, turned around maybe thirty times, and curled up and closed her eyes.
"Wish I could do that," I mumbled. "I don't suppose you could splice my DNA with cat genes?"
Dr. Tuttle laughed. That made me relax. A little. "Okay, so this is what you designated as your bedtime. Hop into bed and we're off!"
"Shouldn't you hook me up to monitors or something?" I didn't see any wires or electronics.
She shook her head. "That will make it harder for you to fall asleep. For the first time, we try to keep it as natural as possible. We may do that if we need subsequent testing."
I shrugged and pulled back the down comforter. A nightstand stood next to the bed with a bottle of water. That was good. I always slept with water. I wondered how they knew. Maybe I told them. My brain was a little fuzzy.
The fresh flannel sheets were warm and smelled like lavender. This shouldn't be too hard. Right? I slid around the hulking cat in the middle of the bed, fluffed up a pillow, and lay down.
The lights dimmed, but I could still make out a camera on the ceiling directly above me and a two-way mirror across the room. At least I knew who was on the other side of the glass.
My eyes flew open a few minutes—or so I assumed—later. Dr. Tuttle entered the room, closing the door behind her.
Motto for Murder (Merry Wrath Mysteries Book 6) Page 15