Colleen retrieved the ball bat, then raced to the door.
“Stop, don’t go out there,” Katherine shouted, sitting up on the floor, rubbing her ankle. “A bat isn’t going to protect you against a gun.”
“I wasn’t running out the door. I’m going to close and lock it in case that nut case comes back.”
“No, leave it open. Maybe Scout and Abra will run back in. I don’t think he wanted to harm us or he’d have shot us already.”
Colleen said, “I’m not going out there to test your theory.”
“We’ve got to find the cats.”
“No way! That lunatic has your gun.”
“I can’t leave them out there.” Katherine got up and limped to the door and began calling the Siamese. “Come here,” she said. “Scout. Abra. Treat! Treat!”
The Siamese rounded the corner of the closest shed and trotted into the kitchen with a clowder of black cats trailing behind them. The two tortoiseshell felines were the last to scamper inside. Lizzie Howe, using a cane, hobbled in and collapsed on a kitchen chair. Her left cheek was bruised. Red welts were rising on her neck.
“For the love of Mary, what happened to you?” Colleen stammered, scared out of her wits.
Lizzie answered, “Lock the door.”
Chapter Sixteen
Sheriff Johnson drove his cruiser to the front of the Animal Rescue Center, cut his lights, then walked to the building. Melinda Hudson met him at the door, and opened it.
“Evening,” he said, walking in. The sound of cats meowing and dogs barking in the back of the Center were very loud.
Melinda said, “Thanks so much for meeting me here. I was afraid to come to your office.”
“Well, at two o’clock in the morning, you’d have a hard time getting in. The public doors lock at nine. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”
The dogs barked even louder. “Is there a quieter place we can talk?”
“Yes, follow me.” Melinda showed the sheriff into the nearest room, switched on the light, and pointed to a chair.
“I’ll stand. Is anyone else here?”
“No, just me,” she answered warily. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s two in the morning, a young gal like yourself, wouldn’t be at her place of work —”
Melinda interrupted, “I’m a volunteer on the weekend. During the week, I work at the diner.”
“Normally, I would wait until morning to talk to you, but I kind of have a hunch you’ve got something important to say to me.”
Melinda nervously fidgeted with her bracelet, twisting it around her wrist. She looked up and caught the sheriff’s eyes. “Do you have your gun?”
The sheriff eyed her suspiciously and started to reach for his service revolver. “Why do you ask, Ms. Hudson?”
“Because what I’m about to tell you will get me killed, sooner or later, so you might as well shoot me right now.”
“Whatever it is, spit it out.” He relaxed his hand, and leaned against a desk, facing the door.
Melinda began to cry. “I’m a horrible person and I don’t deserve to live. I’ve spread vicious rumors at the diner about Lizzie Howe being a witch. Now everyone believes them,” she sobbed.
“In my experience, most rumors start with a tiny grain of truth. Is she a witch?” the sheriff asked.
“Of course not. That day Tony, I mean Dr. Goodwin died, I made up the witch incantation.”
“It was a pretty good one,” the sheriff said kindly, attempting to get Melinda on track of what she seemed to really want to talk about.
“That morning I broke into Lizzie’s house. She was home and caught me. Her cats chased me out. That’s when I tripped over the barbed-wire fence and cut myself. Are you going to arrest me for this?”
“Lizzie didn’t report it, so my hands are tied. Why did you break into her house?”
“I wanted something from her safe. My mother’s ring.”
“Breaking and entering is a crime. If Lizzie does get around to reporting it, you could be in a lot of trouble.”
“I don’t see it that way. I used to live there with Nicholas until she killed him.”
“Is this what you want to talk to me about?”
“Oh, no, I didn’t mean that. I don’t know if she killed him or not. I just can’t imagine why he’d leave. Leave her, yes, but not me. He loved me and I loved him.”
“But, let me get this straight. You’re divorced. Nicholas married Lizzie. I thought you’d found happiness with Doc Goodwin.”
Melinda sobbed some more. “How did you know?”
“Oh, today’s not my first day on the job. I’ve learned a few things about human nature over the years.”
Melinda tried to laugh through her tears, then wiped them away with the back of her hand. “My late mom had this saying she’d tell me all the time. She’d say ‘Don’t beat around the bush.’”
“Sounds like your mom knew what she’s talking about.”
“The shooter was driving a metallic gray pickup,” she blurted.
“I believe you told me this before.”
“I didn’t tell you the make and model.”
“It’s okay to tell me now.”
“It was a Toyota Tundra. It looked brand spanking new.”
“How did you see that truck when you were in your car parked in Bud Baxter’s service lane?”
“I wasn’t in my car. I was standing behind a row of corn. I was peeking out.”
“What did you see?”
“Tony drove up in front of Lizzie’s gate and stopped. Another vehicle drove up behind him and parked.”
“Could you see who was in the second vehicle?”
“No, because Tony had his lights on and the glare made it difficult to see past his Mercedes. I didn’t know why there was a second vehicle, so I stayed put.”
“What happened then?”
“I heard Tony yelling at someone, telling them to go around. I heard someone walking on the gravel. It was a heavy footstep. It must have been the driver of the vehicle. I heard a gun blast. I saw Tony slump against the steering wheel. Oh, I can’t . . . I can’t,” she cried.
“Can’t do what?”
“I can’t relive it again.”
“Try, Melinda. It’s very important for you to tell me what you saw.”
Melinda calmed herself and took a deep breath. “The person who shot Tony got in his truck and drove off. That’s when I saw him.”
“Who are we talking about?” the sheriff clarified.
“The driver of the Tundra. I saw him,” she whispered.
“Come again? I didn’t hear you.”
“It was Sam Sanders.”
“Are you sure it was Sam Sanders? Earlier you told me it was a scarecrow.”
“I’m spilling my guts out here. I’m not lying. There really was a man dressed up like a scarecrow, and Sam Sanders killed Tony.”
“If I take your word that there was a scarecrow at the scene, did he shoot anyone?”
“No, he couldn’t have because he was in the cornfield when I first saw him. He wasn’t anywhere near the shooting.”
“Let’s backtrack. Why would Sam Sanders kill Dr. Goodwin?”
“I don’t know,” Melinda said. “Tony never mentioned Sam to me — ever. But I do know Sam murdered Tony.”
“Just out of curiosity, how do you know Sam Sanders?”
“I had a fling with him about a year ago.”
The sheriff gave a disapproving look.
Melinda saw the look. “Don’t judge me,” she said. “I’ve been lonely since Nicholas left me.”
“I apologize. Melinda, this is big. Are you willing to testify in a court of law what you’ve told me?”
“Can’t you shoot me now, so I don’t have too?”
“Enough of that. Here’s a question I’ll throw out to you. Did Sam Sanders see you?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I was in the cornfield a few rows back. If he did, I’d b
e dead already.”
“Have you told anyone else what you’ve told me, like your friends?”
“No, I thought I’d talk to you first.”
“Where do you live?”
“I rent a room at the Erie Hotel.”
“You’re going to need some protection. I’ll make a few calls, but you can’t walk out that door.”
“Why not?”
“Sam Sanders won’t think twice about killing you.”
Melinda buried her head in her hands. “I know,” she cried.
“I’ve spent my entire career trying to nail this bastard, and you’re my ticket to do that.”
“Can’t I text my aunt and let her know what’s going on?”
“No, not right now. Sit tight.” The sheriff pulled out his cell and began making calls. When finished, he said, “I’ve got a few law enforcement folks who want to talk to you.”
“Tonight?” she asked.
“They’ll be here in a few.”
Chapter Seventeen
Colleen lunged to shut the kitchen back door but hesitated. An antique filigreed-brass key was in the exterior lockset. She pulled it out and slammed the door, then she inserted the key into the inside lock and turned it. “That’s the last time that raggedy scarecrow is going to get in here. He left his blasted key!”
Katherine’s eyes grew big. “He had a key!” she said, horrified. “I wonder who else does.”
Lizzie moaned.
Katherine winced with pain and limped over to Lizzie. “Are you okay?”
“Let me catch my breath,” Lizzie said, scanning the room for her cats.
Isadora stood tall next to Scout and Abra. Abra began washing the black cat’s pointed ears. Amara stood back and eyed the Siamese with guarded interest. The kitten, Sabrina, ran to Katherine and climbed her pajamas until she was resting against Katherine’s chest, purring loudly. “Ah, sweet girl,” Katherine cooed, petting her.
“Come,” Lizzie said, and the cats ambled over and sat down by her chair.
Katherine set Sabrina on the floor. The kitten scampered to the back of Lizzie’s legs.
Katherine thought, A scarecrow is running amok with my gun. A witch stumbles into my kitchen. She must have cast a spell on her cats, because they obey her every command. I’ll make sure, when this nightmare is over, that I ask how she did it.
Colleen stood cautiously by the back door, afraid the scarecrow would come back. With every bit of courage, she inched the curtain to one side. Peering out, she said, “Katz, I think the storm has moved on, but it’s really dark out there. I can’t see past the first shed.”
Katherine hobbled to a chair and sat down, close to Lizzie.
Lizzie was visibly shaking. She wrung her hands. “I’m so sorry for barging in. Let me rest a minute and then I’ll take my cats and leave.”
“You can stay here as long as you like, but please tell us what’s going on?” Katherine asked in a concerned voice.
Lizzie started to cry. The large black cat, Amara, leaped in her arms. Lizzie buried her face in her fur. “My life has been a living hell,” she sobbed. “I’m scared to death the folks in Erie are going to burn me at the stake. I’m being stalked by this crazy man dressed in a scarecrow getup. I mean ‘who does that’?”
“Have you told the sheriff?”
“Heavens no. I have to watch everything I say and do. People are accusing me of all sorts of awful things. Saying I’m a witch. Saying I’m a cat hoarder. I don’t know who started these awful rumors.” Lizzie reached into her pocket and pulled out a Kleenex. She dabbed her eyes.
Colleen noted. “This is the Twenty-First Century. People don’t burn witches at the stake . . . I mean . . . I didn’t mean to refer to you as a witch. Forget I said that,” she blundered.
Katherine asked, alarmed. “Why are you walking with a cane?”
Lizzie didn’t answer and continued sobbing. “I’m a complete idiot,” she cried. “I’ve been so lonely these days. I signed up on a dating website and I met a man online. At first, he was so sweet to me. He sent me the most precious love letters. After a short while, I agreed to meet him. Turns out he’s from this area. He was wonderful, brought me flowers, wined and dined me, then I found out he’s not what I thought he was. He just wants to use me to get my land.”
“If he’s from this area, who is he?” Colleen asked.
Lizzie shook her head. “I can’t . . . I can’t say.”
“Who wants your land?” Katherine prodded.
“I was with him this evening. I told him my plans for the cat sanctuary. He blew up and said I was a fool to want to use my husband’s land for something so ridiculous. I blew up too and told him to get out. I said I’d never marry him, and that’s when he beat me up.”
“Lizzie, do you need to go to the hospital?”
Colleen offered, “I can call an ambulance,” reaching in her pocket for her cell.
“No, thank you. It’s not necessary. If anything was broken, I wouldn’t have been able to come over here, but he threatened to kill me and my cats if I didn’t cooperate.”
“Cooperate? How?” Katherine urged.
“Behind my back, he contacted an attorney and found out that I can petition the court to get a death in absentia ruling to declare my husband legally dead. In Indiana, I don’t have to wait seven years, like I thought. I can do it now.”
“You don’t have to do it.”
“But that’s where you’re wrong. He said that if I didn’t have Nicholas declared legally dead, and marry him, he’d murder me and my cats in our sleep!”
“He sounds like a monster,” Katherine said, shocked.
“How could I have been so stupid and let this man into our lives?” Lizzie asked, choking with tears.
“Where is this man now?” Katherine said, terrified he’d drive up any minute and break into the house.
“I don’t know. I got away from him and ran out of the cabin. He doesn’t know about the path to your house. I’m sure he’s probably searching down the road for me.”
“You’ve got to report this to the sheriff,” Katherine advised, adamantly.
“I can’t.”
“For heaven’s sake. Why not?”
“Because this man is so powerful, if I don’t do what he says, he’ll kill me.”
Colleen jumped in the conversation. “Katz, don’t ask any more questions. This is way over our heads.”
Katherine touched Lizzie on the arm. “Sweetie, calm down. You’re safe here.”
“I don’t want any trouble. I want to live my life in peace and quiet with my cats.”
Katherine nodded. “I’m afraid I have more bad news. Your scarecrow stalker has my gun.”
Lizzie’s face dropped in shock, but she didn’t comment. She kissed Amara on the head. “Good girl,” she said, then asked, “How can I go home now? I’m unarmed. I left my shotgun at home.”
“Raw,” Abra commiserated, trotting over and springing up to the kitchen table. She collapsed in front of Katherine, purring loudly. Katherine petted her on the head, then looked around the room. “Where’s Scout?”
Colleen answered, “She booked it out of here a few minutes ago.”
The three women heard two men talking in the next room.
“Who’s that?” Lizzie asked.
“Dammit Scout,” Katherine muttered.
Lizzie looked hurt. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No, I’m cursing one of my cats. She’s an incorrigible lock picker.” Katherine struggled out of her chair and limped into the hall. The door to the storage room was wide open. “Scout, get out of here. You’re not supposed to be in here.”
Katherine switched on the overhead light. Scout was standing on top of the reel-to-reel tape recorder. She muttered something in Siamese, stepped on the reverse button with one paw, and then stood on the play button with her other.
On the tape, a man’s voice said, “I’ve been here for a month. If you’re movin’ to the City, how
am I going to get supplies?”
An elderly voice answered, “I can’t help you anymore. My wife is ill and I’m not so good myself. You have to go to the sheriff and tell him what you know.”
“I’m not ready to do that. I want to make sure I have enough evidence to convict him. If I don’t, I’ll never be able to live here as a free man.”
“I’m sorry to have to tell ya this, but a friend of mine and his wife are moving in to take care of the place for a few months. Once they move in, don’t use your key anymore to get in the house. They’re bound to see you, so you’ll have to find another place to hide out.”
The man sighed, then said, “Thank you, you’ve been very kind.”
“Oh, there’s something else. I called the folks down at the new rescue center. They’re sending someone out to trap the feral cats around here. He said he’d need access to the shed in order to store some stuff.”
“When’s he coming?”
“This afternoon, so whatever belongs to you out there, you’ve gotta move it.” The elderly man began to cough, then said, “I wish the best for ya. Just sorry I can’t help ya anymore.”
The tape fell silent for a few seconds, then Abra’s voice came over loud and clear, from the first day Katherine brought the cats to the farmhouse. Scout pressed the off button and looked up at Katherine. She wore a eureka moment on her brown-masked face.
Katherine said to the Siamese, “Do you know who is talking on the tape?”
Scout gave an insane look, lifted up her hind leg and began washing her foot.
“I guess not,” Katherine said.
Lizzie stood at the door, clutching the doorframe. Colleen stood beside her.
“If you wouldn’t mind, could you play back the tape again?” Lizzie’s voice trembled.
“Sure,” Katherine said, moving to the tape recorder. “Scout, can you take your bath somewhere else?”
“Na-waugh,” Scout sassed, slowing inching to the side. Abra leaped up and joined her on the table.
Katherine played the tape again.
Lizzie walked to the nearest chair. “My legs are weak. I need to sit down.” Sitting in the chair, she began fanning her face with her hand.
“The suspense is killing me. Who’s talking on the tape?” Katherine asked Lizzie.
The Cats that Broke the Spell (The Cats that . . . Cozy Mystery Book 8) Page 12