Claws of Death

by Linda Reilly

  “His own sister-in-law was a victim,” Gideon said. “I’m sure that’s why he was so passionate about the cause.”

  Lara took a sip of her coffee. “In a way, it reminds me of what we do here, taking in cats who’ve been discarded or mistreated. We give them care and a safe haven, just as Wilbur wanted to do for abused women. In his case he was a bit ahead of his time, but he had the right idea, didn’t he?”

  “I agree, with all of that,” Gideon said. “Joy told the police she scattered those flowers around Waitt’s body to remind the world of what they’d lost.”

  A thought struck Lara. “What’s going to happen to Will?” she asked. “Other than Joy, he has no family left.”

  “I’m not sure. That’s up in the air,” Gideon said. “I’m not even sure where he is right now.”

  Lara sat back in her chair again. The cinnamon bagel called to her, but her appetite had fizzled. She couldn’t help wondering what she’d have done in Joy’s place. Would she have made similar choices?

  Gideon finished his coffee, set Munster gently on the floor, and rose. “Hey, I gotta run. My schedule’s jam-packed today.” He went over and kissed Lara. “Bye, sweetie. Call you later, okay? Bye, Fran.”

  After his footfalls disappeared down the porch steps, Lara looked at her aunt. She felt a distinct blush creeping into her cheeks. Aunt Fran looked away discreetly, but a knowing smile perched on her lips.

  “Hey, I gotta run, too,” Lara said with a smile. “I’ll clean up the dishes, and then—I have a very special delivery to make.”

  Chapter 28

  “Special delivery!” Lara grinned and held up the cat carrier.

  Nancy and Deanna stood in the doorway, Nancy sporting a raven-black wig that accentuated her pallor. Both women’s eyes beamed when they saw the kittens. “We couldn’t wait till you got here,” Deanna said. “Oh, look at them, Nancy. Their little noses are pressed to the screen. I think they know they’re home. Don’t you, darlings?” she cooed to the kittens.

  Lara set down the carrier and hugged both women. She’d learned from Deanna that the housekeeper suffered from a hereditary hair loss condition, which explained why she owned several wigs.

  Nancy shifted her gaze to the cat carrier. “I can’t wait to see our babies again. It seems like they’ve been gone forever, doesn’t it?”

  Lara marveled at the change in Nancy. The miracle of the kittens, she couldn’t help thinking. She unzipped the screen on the carrier and released the kittens. Nancy immediately scooped up Doodle, and Deanna did the same with Noodle.

  Deanna kissed her kitten’s head. “Um, Lara,” she said, shooting a look at Nancy, “we hope you don’t mind, but we’re changing their names. We’re going to call them Bogie and Bacall.”

  “Those are great names!” Lara said. “I heartily approve—not that you need my approval.”

  Nancy laughed. “See, I told you she’d like them.”

  Nancy Sherman, Lara had learned, had formerly been known as Adele Nancy Harrison. After serving a light sentence for her part in several bank robberies—something she’d done under dire threats from her husband—she’d changed her name to a combination of her middle and maiden names. It gave her a sense of privacy she couldn’t otherwise have found.

  They brought the kittens upstairs and settled them in Deanna’s room. “We’re going to keep them here for a few more days, since this is the room they’re most familiar with,” Deanna explained. “After that we’ll gradually introduce them to the rest of the house.”

  Tears filled Nancy’s eyes. She set Doodle—now Bogie—down on Deanna’s bed. “When I was tied to that bedpost, I was so terrified. I thought for sure it was the end of me. But these two darlings, they knew better. They wouldn’t stop purring, and I knew, somehow, it was going to be okay.”

  Deanna pressed a finger to her eye. “All right, Nancy, enough is enough,” she said sternly. “You’re going to make me cry again, and I just put on my makeup.”

  Lara giggled. These two were perfect for the kittens. How had she ever doubted it?

  The scent of fresh paint tickled Lara’s senses. Faint sounds drifted from one of the other rooms. Before she could ask, Deanna set Noodle—or rather, Bacall—on the bed next to her brother and slid an arm through Lara’s. “Come with me.”

  Deanna led her down the hallway to a room at the end. The door was open. Each piece of furniture in the room had been covered with a sheet. One wall had been painted a cerulean blue; the others were a muted lilac. A man stooped over a paint can, his brush poised in mid-air. Deanna knocked lightly on the doorjamb. “May we come in?”

  The man rose to his full height and looked at them. “Yes, you can. Come in,” he said shyly.

  Lara stared at him in shock. “Will?”

  He nodded and set his brush down. Recognition flashed in his eyes, but then he offered a tentative smile. “I’m painting my room blue. Do you like it?”

  “I love it,” Lara said. “That’s a dazzling shade of blue.”

  “Will is going to live here and help us around the house,” Deanna explained. “He’s a pro at tending the flowers and the lawn. He also builds the loveliest birdhouses. Wait till you see them.”

  “I’ll make you one, if you want,” he said softly.

  “Hmm,” Lara said. “I think I’d like that. Can you build a green one? I live with my aunt, and I think she’d love green. We can hang it in our maple tree.”

  “A green one,” Will repeated. “I can do that.”

  “We’ll leave you to your painting, Will,” Deanna said kindly. “Nancy will call you when lunch is ready.”

  “Bye, Will,” Lara said.

  When they were out of earshot, Lara said, “Deanna, I am so impressed with your generosity. He already looks at home.”

  Deanna’s eyes took on a haunted glaze. “That man suffered needlessly, Lara—and I’m to blame, at least partly. He deserves a comfortable home with people who care about him.”

  “I don’t agree that you’re to blame,” Lara said. “But I feel sure he’ll be happy here, as much as he can be with his memories.”

  “He already has his own bathroom,” Deanna said, “but eventually he’ll have his own entrance, too. My architect is coming by this afternoon to go over the design. I’ve also arranged for Will to speak to a counselor. I think it’ll help him deal with everything he went through with his sister.” She looked down at her clasped hands. “Truth be told, I’m going to see one myself. I’m hoping it will give me some perspective.”

  “So, no more movies?”

  “No more movies. Though if the right role came along”—she shrugged—“who knows? Coming back here has helped bring my life into focus. My family’s gone, but I’ve made some fabulous friends.” She winked at Lara. “I want to start feeling things and doings things like a real person. I don’t want to be that caricature of a so-called seasoned actress anymore. Those days are gone, and good riddance to them.”

  “I totally get that.” Lara gave Deanna a quick hug. If she didn’t leave soon, she was going to burst into tears. “I’d better go. Lots happening at the shelter these days. Kayla—you remember our assistant—is helping us design a program for kids to read to cats. We’re hoping to get it started before the kids go back to school.”

  “What a marvelous idea,” Deanna said. “And before I forget, since I agreed to pay all adoption fees this month, I’m going to have Nancy send you a check. It will be large enough that you’ll have some left over. You can use it all for the shelter.”

  “Thank you,” Lara said. She heard her phone ping with a text.

  After bidding both women goodbye, Lara hurried out to her car. She dug out her phone. The text was from Sherry.

  Hey, cat lady, you better get in here today. I got a date Saturday night and I need some serious girl talk. By the way, he loves cats.

 
Lara giggled to herself. She texted back.

  Tentative approval given. Please follow up with deetz.

  * * * *

  Lara drove home with a range of emotions churning through her head. Mostly they were positive ones, but occasionally one of the bad ones managed to sneak through.

  When she made the turn onto High Cliff Road, she flicked a glance at the rearview mirror. A car she didn’t recognize was following her.

  The car tailed Lara until she swung the Saturn into her aunt’s driveway. The driver of the car, whoever it was, moved past the house and pulled into the shelter’s small parking lot on the other side.

  Had someone gotten the adoption days confused?

  Lara hopped out of the Saturn and slammed the door. After the events of the past few days, her nerves were still on edge. Instead of going inside the house, she jogged across the backyard to the other side, over to the shelter’s entrance. The driver of the car, a woman, was easing herself out of her front seat.

  Lara waited, and then her jaw dropped in surprise. “Mildred?” It was Hesty’s neighbor, the kindly woman Lara hadn’t seen since the day they’d discovered Hesty’s body together. She dashed over to her and gave her a firm hug.

  “I’m so glad I caught you home,” Mildred said, her long gray hair swirled atop her head in an old-style bun. “I wasn’t sure what day you did adoptions, and I’m not too good on the internet, so I took a shot.”

  “Come inside,” Lara said, escorting her onto the back porch. “Can I get you some lemonade? Have a seat, Mildred.”

  “Oh no, I don’t need anything.” Her eyes shiny, she lowered herself onto one of the padded chairs. “I still miss Hesty,” she said. “You didn’t really know him, but I did. He was a rarity, Lara—kind and funny and cranky and irreverent all in one bald-headed, wrinkled body.”

  Lara’s eyes welled at her description. “He was a good friend, wasn’t he?”

  “He was the best. Anyway, I know I’m taking up your valuable time, so I might as well just come out and ask you. Is it okay if I adopt Frankie?”

  It was the last thing Lara expected to hear. “You’re interested in Frankie? Mildred, I-I think that’s wonderful. But you haven’t even met him!”

  “Well, I guess that’s why I’m here. To meet my new best friend. I’ve had cats before, and they all lived to a good old age. It’s awful hard when they pass on, but I miss having a cat. My home is small, but it’s neat and comfy. I won’t let Frankie go out. He’ll stay inside where it’s nice and safe.”

  Lara reached over and touched Mildred’s hand. She uttered a silent prayer that Mildred was the right match for Frankie. “Stay right here,” she said. “I’ll go get him.”

  She found Frankie sprawled on her aunt’s neatly made bed. “Come on, sweetness,” she said and gathered him into her arms. “A very special friend wants to meet you.”

  She carried him downstairs and through the large parlor. When they reached the back porch, he squirmed in her arms, his nose on full alert. The cat sprang from her grip and into the meet-and-greet room, leaping directly onto Mildred’s lap.

  “Oh my, that was fast!” Mildred chuckled, tears in her eyes. She pulled the cat closer and hugged him. “No wonder Hesty was in love with you. You’re just a little ball of heaven, aren’t you?”

  Choking back tears, Lara decided right then—she would put Mildred’s application on a super fast track. With luck, Mildred could take Frankie home by the end of the day.

  Lara wasn’t worried. A furry Ragdoll face peeked over the edge of the table from the chair to Mildred’s left. Blue fixed her eyes on the pair and gave her slow, trademark blink.

  Outside, a car door slammed. Lara went to the doorway and peeked through the glass pane. Kayla had parked her gram’s car next to Mildred’s, and was pulling something out of the back seat. Lara racked her brain. Kayla wasn’t scheduled to work today, was she?

  Kayla pushed the car door closed with her foot and trotted toward Lara. In her arms was a deep cardboard box, open at the top. She wore a look of alarm, as if her life hung in the balance.

  “Lara, we have to help them. Pleeease,” she begged.

  “Help who—?” Lara started to ask, then saw the contents of the box. Five furry kittens, nestled on a towel, mewed pitifully as they tried to scale the box.

  “Oh, look at them,” Lara said, her heart melting. She lifted out a furry gray kitten and cuddled it to her chest. “Where did they come from?”

  “My gram’s neighbor’s niece brought them over. The niece found them in the Dumpster at her office building. The Dumpster, Lara! The neighbor told her I was a vet tech student and would know what to do with them.”

  “Bring them in,” Lara said. “We’ll get them settled in our isolation room. I’m sure they’re hungry. How old do you think they are?”

  “Six, maybe seven weeks,” Kayla said and carried the box inside. Lara closed the door behind her. “They’re old enough to eat wet kitten food—God knows what they’ve been surviving on—but we’ll need to watch them carefully. Also, I checked their ears, and I think they have mites. They need to see the vet, ASAP.”

  “I’ll call Amy and ask if she can see them today. Where’s mama kitty?” Lara asked, feeling the kitten’s tiny claws sink into her jersey top.

  “No one knows, but I’m going to try to find out. I’m going over to that office building after I leave here.”

  For the first time, Kayla noticed Mildred sitting at the table with Frankie curled in her lap. “Oh—hi. Are you—?”

  “I’m Mildred, and I hope I’m Frankie’s new mom.”

  A logjam of emotions clogged Lara’s throat. She couldn’t imagine her life without this shelter, without being there for the felines who found their way into the care of her and Aunt Fran. Her aunt’s words came back to her.

  Many people believe that everything in life unfolds exactly as it’s supposed to.

  Still clutching her tiny charge, Lara placed a hand on Mildred’s shoulder. “Mildred, I know you’re Frankie’s new mom,” she said. “An angel out there in the wild blue yonder just whispered it in my ear.”

  Lara’s Blueberry Buckle

  Ingredients for cake:

  ¾ cup white sugar

  ½ cup (8 tablespoons) butter, softened

  1 egg

  ½ cup milk

  2 cups all-purpose flour (preferably sifted)

  2 teaspoons baking powder

  ½ teaspoon salt

  ½ teaspoon grated lemon zest

  1 teaspoon vanilla extract

  2 cups fresh blueberries

  Ingredients for streusel topping:

  ¼ cup white sugar

  ¼ cup brown sugar

  ⅓ cup all-purpose flour

  ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon (or to taste)

  ¼ cup (4 tablespoons) butter

  Directions for cake:

  Preheat oven to 375 degrees F

  Grease an 8-inch or 9-inch square pan

  In a bowl, blend the flour, baking powder, and salt

  In a separate bowl, beat together the butter, the ¾ cup sugar, egg, vanilla, and lemon zest

  Alternately add the milk and the flour mixture to the sugar/butter mixture

  Add blueberries, stirring only enough to blend

  Pour batter into pan

  Directions for streusel topping:

  In a small bowl, blend the white and brown sugars, flour, and cinnamon

  With a fork or pastry blender, cut in butter until mixture is crumbly

  Sprinkle evenly over the cake batter

  Bake at 375 degrees F for 40 to 45 minutes until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool on wire rack, then serve right from the pan.

  If you enjoyed Claws of Death, be sure not to miss the first book in Linda Reilly’s Cat Lady Mystery
series

  Here, killer, killer, killer…

  For the first time in sixteen years, Lara Caphart has returned to her hometown of Whisker Jog, New Hampshire. She wants to reconnect with her estranged Aunt Fran, who’s having some difficulty looking after herself—and her eleven cats. Taking care of a clowder of kitties is easy, but keeping Fran from being harassed by local bully Theo Barnes is hard. The wealthy builder has his sights set on Fran’s property, and is determined to make her an offer she doesn’t dare refuse.

  Then Lara spots a blue-eyed ragdoll cat that she swears is the reincarnation of her beloved Blue, her childhood pet. Pursuing the feline to the edge of Fran’s yard, she stumbles upon the body of Theo Barnes, clearly a victim of foul play. To get her and Fran off the suspect list, Lara finds herself following the cat’s clues in search of a killer. Is Blue’s ghost really trying to help her solve a murder, or has Lara inhaled too much catnip?

  Read on for a special excerpt!

  A Lyrical Underground e-book on sale now.

  Chapter 1

  Lara Caphart paused at the foot of the wide porch steps and stared up at the old Folk Victorian. She was startled, and oddly relieved, at how little the place had changed. The white wicker settee still sat on the wraparound porch, its colorful cushions now sun-faded. A hanging planter, devoid of any foliage, dangled from a metal hook in front of the green-shuttered window.

  She glanced over the yard she hadn’t laid eyes on since she was eleven. The lawn was a bit unkempt, and the shrubs along the base of the porch needed tending. Lara easily recalled the days when Aunt Fran had kept everything trimmed and tidy—postcard pretty, in fact.

  Heart thwacking against her chest, Lara slowly climbed the steps. Could it really be sixteen years since she’d seen her aunt? She tapped her knuckles on the wooden doorframe, lightly at first, then with a tad more vigor. After a wait of at least two minutes, the door creaked open. She took an involuntary step backward. “Aunt…Aunt Fran?” she asked with a slight gasp.