Sledge and Gonzales stood. “Okay, that’s it for now. Mr. Garfield, I would appreciate it if you would not leave town for the next few weeks.” Sledge started to turn and follow Gonzales out when he stopped and looked back at the realtor. “We may have more questions. And please let us know if you happen to recall anything you observed at the Forster place that might be considered suspicious.”
“Uh, okay.”
Sledge was the first to speak once the partners were in the car. “Well, that guy’s wound tight, isn’t he? He and Iris Clampton sure make a pair.”
Gonzales shook his head in disbelief. “Sure is—like someone with a whole lot of lies to hide.”
“So it wasn’t just me?” Sledge asked, not expecting an answer. “Hey, what do you say we go have a conversation with Mrs. Garfield?”
“Sure—can’t be any more weird.”
“Wow, that’s some place,” Gonzales said as they pulled up in front of 1001 Peacock Avenue.
“Gadzooks!” Sledge exclaimed. “He must sell a lot of houses—or something...”
The pair made their way up the rock walkway onto the roomy porch and Sledge rang the doorbell. “Oh, hello,” he said to the woman who responded rather promptly, “Mrs. Garfield?”
The slightly stooped sixty-something woman smiled warmly. “No, I’m Gert. May I ask who’s calling?”
He handed her a card. “Detective Sledge and Sergeant Gonzales.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No. We’d just like to ask her a few questions.”
“Certainly,” she said, pushing the door closed as far as it would go without latching.
They didn’t wait long before a plump woman with dyed blond hair, wearing an expensive gabardine suit appeared at the door. “Hello?” she said questioningly as she opened the door wide. A small white poodle mix dog stood a distance behind her.
“Hello, Mrs. Garfield?” When she nodded, Sledge continued, “I’m Detective Sledge, this is Sergeant Gonzales. We’d like to come in and ask you a few questions about what you observed at the Forster home Saturday during the party…er…fundraiser.”
“Oh, I just arrived home and I have another appointment soon…” She glanced at her watch. “But, if it doesn’t take too long…”
“Fine. Where can we talk?”
She glanced again at each of the men and invited them inside. She led them through the great room and into a stunning sitting room decorated in wicker. The little dog trotted over to a matching wicker dog bed and promptly curled up on the plush cushion. Cecilia Garfield motioned toward two matching chairs. “Please have a seat.” Once everyone was seated, she let out a breath and asked, “Okay, now what is it you need from me?”
“Mrs. Garfield, who was with you at the party Saturday?”
“My husband, Fred, our oldest daughter and her two children. They sure enjoyed the arcade. The arcade was my favorite part of the event because the kids had so much fun. They’re six and eight. Great kids.”
“I’m sure they are. Was your husband with you throughout the event?”
“Well, yes. Why?” she asked furrowing her brow as if confused by the question.
“He went over to the arcade with you and the grandchildren?”
“Yes.” She stopped before saying, “Well, he wasn’t there the whole time, of course. He always has to schmooze at these social events.” She sat more erect as she announced, “He’s a city councilman, you know—been elected for three terms. People look up to him. We have a place in this community. It’s important that Fred socialize. So, to answer your question, he wasn’t with us in body the entire time, but certainly in spirit.” She laughed, exposing her perfectly whitened, slightly crooked teeth between thin, shapeless lips.
“Can you recall when your husband was with you and when he wasn’t?”
“Um…well, he got there before we did. I drove over and picked up Aubrey, our daughter, and the kids. We stopped for a bite to eat.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice a little as if sharing a secret. “I didn’t figure there would be decent food to make a meal for the kids and I was right.” She sat upright, a cocky smug on her face. “—lemonade and sweet things—cookies, brownies, cakes. Nothing substantial.”
“What time did you arrive?”
She considered the question. “Sometime after noon. Maybe twelve-thirty or so.”
“What time did your husband get there?”
“I’m not exactly sure, but he left the house around ten o’clock. He may have stopped somewhere along the way. He often does.”
Sledge leaned forward toward Cecilia Garfield. “Did you see your husband when you and the family arrived?”
“Um…now let me think…maybe.” She frowned slightly, considering the question. Then, as if something dawned on her, she looked up at the detective. “No. You know, I didn’t see him when we arrived. But we went straight out to the arcade first thing.” She smiled. “The kids saw the balloons and activity out back and were eager to play the games.”
“In order to get to the arcade, didn’t you have to walk past a lot of people? And you didn’t see your husband among them?”
“No…” she said. “I wasn’t actually looking for him, you see. But no. I didn’t see him until a little later when I took Jennifer to get some lemonade. I saw him across the yard and I specifically went over to him and asked where his glove was.”
“His glove?” Sledge asked.
“He has to wear gloves because of a skin condition and he only had one of them on,” she explained.
Sledge glanced over at Gonzales, who was busy taking notes. He looked back at Cecilia Garfield and asked, “What did he say?”
“I don’t recall—just something about misplacing it. He said he was making it a point to keep his hand out of the sun.”
“And what time was this, Mrs. Garfield? How long had you been there by then?”
“Well, about an hour…maybe more”
“So about one-thirty or two o’clock?”
She nodded.
“And how long did you stay?”
“Jennifer had a swim meet at four, so we had to leave around three-thirty.”
Sledge sat back in his chair. “Did you see your husband go into the house when you were there?”
She stared at something above Sergeant Gonzales’s head as if trying to remember. She said, “No. No, I didn’t. But you must understand. It’s not like we’re newlyweds. We have lives of our own and we don’t keep close tabs on each other.”
“What percentage of the time did he spend with you and the kids?”
The woman’s forehead creased as she shook her head in disbelief. “What kind of questions are these?” she insisted. “Some sort of mind games? I’m no mathematician. What is your point, Detective?”
“Just answer the question, Mrs. Garfield. Was your husband with you maybe fifty percent of the time? Seventy-five percent or more like…ten percent?”
She sat back in her chair, crossing her thick ankles under her. “Gosh, I guess he was out schmoozing more than I thought. I get so into those children, you know. Now that you have me thinking about it, I guess he really wasn’t with us much. I did see him across the yard a few times chatting with people. Oh, and he saw Josie—our youngest, make a couple of baskets at the arcade and win herself a prize.”
Sledge looked over at Gonzales and back at Cecilia Garfield. “Mrs. Garfield, do you recall seeing anything you might consider suspicious going on at the fundraiser on Saturday. Anything at all?”
“Noooo. Like what?”
“Any suspicious activity anywhere on the property?”
“Not that I can think of, but I was pretty much into the kids. They are so much fun. I didn’t even do much socializing myself that day, even though I’m quite…involved in the community, too—leading many clubs and events, myself.”
“Okay, Mrs. Garfield. You have been most helpful.” He handed her a business card. “Please call if you remember anything we should
know about.”
“Certainly.”
“We can let ourselves out. Thank you for your time.”
“We need to find out what happened to that other glove,” Craig Sledge said to his partner as they climbed back into the unmarked car.
***
“Yoo hoo,” Savannah called out as she pushed open the front door to Max and Margaret’s house. “Your daughter’s home.”
Margaret rushed from the kitchen. “Oh Layla, I missed you, baby kitty.”
“Hi there precious,” Max said as he walked up behind his wife.
“What? You two don’t get enough cat vibes all day in the cattery?” Michael laughed.
“Well, this one’s…special,” Max said as he took the carrier from Savannah, set it down and opened the door for the tangerine beauty.
Michael held up a large blue pot. “Where do you want this culinary creation?”
Without looking up, Max said, “How about on the stove? Thanks.”
After Max and Margaret took turns welcoming Layla home, they prepared to serve wine. “Sure wish I had some better glasses,” Margaret said, winking at Savannah. “That reminds me, I need to come over to my house and get those beautiful crystal glasses I left there.”
“Oh, we traded them for the psychic reading this afternoon,” Savannah quipped.
“Sure you did.” Margaret laughed. “You’d just better not be breaking any of them, you hear?”
“Red or white?” Max asked. “Let’s see, that’s Pinot Grigio, Chardonnay or Merlot.”
“I’ll have the Grigio,” Savannah said as she knelt down to pet a yellow tabby, who was curled up in a carpeted cat tube. “How are you, Sammy?” she crooned. “Hi there, Big Boy,” she said to a large cat sitting nearby on top of a tall wooden cat tree.
“Same for me,” Michael said. He then noticed something. “Hey, do you have a new cat in here?”
“Which one?” Max asked.
“Well, I haven’t seen that little black one over there, have I? The one hiding behind Gretchen?”
“Oh yes, she’s new. We separated her from the other rescued cats hoping our kitties would help to socialize her. And you can see who she has attached herself to,” he said with a sideways grin. “…Gretchen, our resident scaredy cat.” He reached out with a glass of wine each for Savannah and Michael. “Come on, let’s join Maggie in the living room. Please find a comfy spot and relax,” he said as he handed his wife a glass of Merlot.
Margaret took a sip, set her glass down and addressed Savannah, “Okay, I can’t wait. What did Rags tell the psycho—I mean psychic—today?”
“Well, it was rather interesting, actually.” Savannah raised her eyebrows and bit her bottom lip. She looked across at her aunt and then at Max. “According to Caroline, Rags witnessed the murder and he revealed the identity of the killer to her.”
“Yes, it was a rough sketch,” Michael added.
“Holy cow!” Margaret reached up and straightened the neckline on her blouse. “Who was it?”
Savannah leaned forward. “It’s not someone he knows. Caroline didn’t recognize him, either. She gave Rags a little pep talk, to try to get him to settle down a bit.”
Michael turned to Savannah. “I think he was better this afternoon, don’t you, honey?”
“He did seem less upset. But that might have been because Layla was there.” She frowned and looked from Margaret to Max. “Rags told her the murderer kicked him.”
Margaret gasped.
“Oh no,” Max said. “Do you think that’s true?”
“Well, as I told Auntie earlier, I think he does have a sore spot on his side—nothing serious, thank heavens. But I guess it really did some harm emotionally. Temporary harm, let’s hope.”
“Are you going to tell all this to that detective—what’s his name?” Margaret asked.
“Sledge?” Savannah offered. “I don’t know. What do you two think? Michael and I aren’t sure.”
“Why not?” Margaret asked. “He’ll either accept it or discount it—use it or not. Can’t hurt to mention it. It might make Rags famous. All the top TV show hosts will want to interview him. He’ll go viral on YouTube. He might land a job with the FBI…”
Savannah laughed. “Well, I doubt that Rags will want to get a job. He’s just a lazy sponger who likes his home comforts. And I like him just the way he is, without a huge ego and an intense schedule.”
Everyone laughed. Savannah, suddenly remembered something. She set her glass down and looked over at her aunt. She lowered her voice and said, “Caroline talked to Layla, too.”
“She did?” Max and Margaret looked at each other and back at Savannah. “What did our girl tell Caroline?” Margaret wanted to know.
“Well, she told the story of her rescue as a kitten and how she thought she would die, but decided she didn’t want to die when the two of you began showing her so much love. Caroline said she is just pure love and a very happy cat.”
“Awwwww,” Margaret said putting both hands gently over Layla who was curled up next to her on the sofa.
“I have goose bumps,” Max said. “She must be legit to have picked up on all that.”
After a few minutes, Savannah said, “I think I will mention Caroline’s visit to the detective. It can’t hurt. And I’d do most anything to help keep Iris out of trouble.”
Chapter Six
Ida Stone sat straight in her chair at the head of a table in the diner. After blotting the corners of her bright red mouth, she peered out from beneath a long fringe of bleached blond bangs and addressed the group. “Will the board meeting of the Hammond Cat Alliance please come to order?” She glanced around at the other seven women and said, “Let’s have a report, if we dare, about the fundraiser at the Forster place to raise money for the rescued horses.”
“Excuse me, Madam President,” Edie said, her hand raised and waving. “Do you think we could have a moment of silence, if not a prayer, for the poor deceased man?” She glanced around the room and added, “…and everyone who was affected by the tragedy?”
Some of the women spoke out: “Oh yes.”
“Good idea.”
“Seems appropriate.”
Ida nodded while running one hand up the back of her head, and tucking a wayward strand of hair into her neat twist. “That’s a good way to start this rather awkward meeting. Thank you for the suggestion, Edie.” She cleared her throat. “Please, everyone, take your neighbors’ hands and close your eyes.”
After a few moments, Ida opened her eyes and released the hands of the women on each side of her. The rest of the ladies followed suit. “Thank you,” she said, acknowledging everyone in the group. She took a deep breath. “Okay, do you want the good news or the bad news first?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued, “As you know, we lost part of the money we collected for the horse fund. But we do have a little over $900 in ticket presales and donations. That, we can be thankful for.”
A few members commented: “Here, here!”
“Amen.”
“We sure can.”
Ida looked down at her agenda. “We can also be thankful for this wonderful group of volunteers.” She pursed her lips and took in a breath lest she shed a tear in front of everyone. “I’m touched by your giving nature—all of you—and some who aren’t here this morning. You all did a fantastic job.” She smiled warmly. “Wasn’t it a fun event?”
Betty spoke up. “I think it’s one of the best we’ve had.”
Everyone nodded enthusiastically. Several of the women made comments: “Very well done.”
“We had a great time.”
“Couldn’t have been better.”
“Yes,” Ida agreed. “And I want to give special thanks to Maggie and to Savannah (who couldn’t be here this morning), for opening up their home to us.” She then frowned and said, “And look what happened in their home…”
“Oh stop,” Margaret said. “Savannah and I enjoyed sharing the place for a good cause. By the
way, before we get too sappy here, I have something to say. May I, Madam Pres?”
“Sure.”
“Vannie wanted to be here today to share something with you, but she had an emergency at the clinic, so she asked me to be the bearer of good news.” Margaret’s face opened up into a smile. “A donor has come forward.”
“What?”
“A donor?”
“Yes. A client at the clinic wanted to help in some way. When he read about the…problem…he went to Michael…Dr. Ivey…and Vannie and gave them a check for $1,000 to go toward feeding and caring for the rescued horses.”
Everyone cheered. A few of the women asked who it was. Some speculated as to who it might be.
Margaret waved her hand to silence the voices and said, “He wishes to remain anonymous.”
Ida smiled and gazed around at the other board members, saying, “Well, this is great news! Thank you, Maggie. Thank Savannah and Dr. Mike, and, if you get the opportunity, of course, thank the donor.” She moved her head back and forth slowly in disbelief. “So the horses will get what we intended for them to have—a fresh and healthy start. Super cool.”
After completing the items listed on her agenda, Ida announced, “The meeting is adjourned. Let’s have a little girl talk.” She looked around and asked, “Where are all the guys, anyway?”
“Mine’s tending to chores,” Betty said.
“So’s mine,” Margaret chimed. “It’s kinda nice doing an all-women meeting sometimes, don’t you think?”
With that, the group broke into individual conversations.
Betty turned to Edie and asked, her forehead creased with concern, “How’s Sally? Your kitty was probably the most traumatized by the catnapping ordeal, wasn’t she, her needing medication and all?”
“Oh my, yes. I’m just so thankful for every minute I have with her.” Her voice cracked. “I still get choked up when I think about…” She composed herself and said, “You know, Sally is just wonderful. Thank you for asking, Betty.” She reached out and put her hand on Betty’s arm, saying, “Now, you are helping out with some of the rescued horses, aren’t you? How’s that going? Those poor things. I saw pictures in the newspaper; they’re so thin.”
Cat-Eye Witness (A Klepto Cat Mystery) Page 12