By now most of the mice, some of the cats, and two of the humans had vacated the tent by one means or another and were outside on the lawn.
“Do something. Do something,” Susie screamed as she watched her cats running this way and that. “Boris, Natasha, come back. You’ll get lost.”
“Somebody has a sense of humor,” Bernie observed from the tent entranceway as she watched Boris tear off his bow tie and Natasha get rid of her little lace veil.
“Somehow, I don’t think Susie is going to see it that way, Bernie,” Libby replied.
“Neither do I, Libby, neither do I,” Bernie said as she watched one of the Russian blues streak past Charlene, in hot pursuit of a mouse, noting that as she did, Charlene made no attempt to intercept the cat, a fact Bernie found interesting. She held out her hand. “I’ll take that dollar now,” she told her sister.
Libby fished in her pocket, came up with a crumpled one-dollar bill, and slapped it in Bernie’s palm.
“Thanks,” Bernie said, stuffing it into her pocket. “I have to say this isn’t the most successful event we’ve ever catered,” she noted as she watched the show unfolding.
“An understatement if there ever was one,” Libby replied.
“So, no more animal-themed events for us,” Bernie said.
“I think you can take that to the bank. Unless maybe someone wants to give a party for their goldfish. We could do that.”
“No, we couldn’t, Libby.”
“Fish aren’t animals.”
“They’re close enough,” Bernie was saying when Susie ran up to her. She was panting, and her face was red.
“They’re heading to the woods,” Susie cried, pointing to Boris and Natasha. The woods abutted a meadow, which in turn flowed into the lawn. “You have to get them before they get lost.” Susie shuddered. “A coyote could eat them.”
Bernie nodded. “We’ll try.”
“Don’t try. Do it,” Susie yelled. Then she was off and running. “Grace, Ralph, where are you?” she screamed as she exited the tent and ran across the lawn.
“Good question,” Libby said. She looked around. Susie’s niece and nephew were nowhere to be found. Maybe they’d gone back to the house, although Libby couldn’t think of why they would have done that. Unless, of course . . .
Bernie turned to Libby. “Do you think one of them did this?”
Libby thought about Bernie’s question. She didn’t have to think very long. “It wouldn’t surprise me. At all,” she said after a moment. “From what I can see, their aunt . . .”
“Is quite the bitch,” Bernie said, finishing her sister’s sentence for her.
“I was going to say an unpleasant human being, but your word works just as well,” Libby replied as she and her sister stepped outside.
Susie Katz was standing twenty feet away. The sisters watched as she took a step, stopped, and began swaying from side to side. Then she slowly slid down in a heap. Bernie and Libby rushed over to her.
“Are you all right?” Libby cried when she reached her side, noting with alarm that Susie’s face was still red and that she was breathing heavily.
“I’m fine,” Susie said, although she obviously wasn’t. She started to get up.
“Don’t,” Bernie said, gently pushing her back. “I’ll call nine-one-one.”
“I’m okay. Honestly,” Susie said, removing Bernie’s helping hand. “It was just a bout of dizziness. I’ll be okay in a minute.”
“I think you need to rest,” suggested Bernie. Even though Susie’s color looked better, Susie was still breathing heavily. Bernie wondered if she was having a heart attack.
“I can’t,” Susie cried, her face getting red again. “I need to find my babies before they get lost.” Her eyes began to fill with tears. “I just can’t think. . . .” She stopped, unable to go on.
Libby and Bernie looked at each other.
“We’ll find them,” Bernie reassured her. “You go lie down. We’ll bring them to you.”
Susie reached up and grabbed Bernie’s hand. “You promise?”
“Absolutely,” Bernie and Libby said together.
Susie smiled. “Thank you. Thank you so much. My babies are all I have. And I’m sorry for the way I acted. I tend to get a little . . . overbearing from time to time.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Bernie said, disregarding her father’s adage about sarcasm being the refuge of the weak-minded.
Susie’s lower lip started to quiver. “Who would do this?”
The sisters shook their heads.
“I don’t know,” Bernie replied, even though what she wanted to say was, “Anyone here.”
“Their collars are worth a lot,” Susie said, outrage lending strength to her voice. “Sapphires are expensive.” And she named the figure. “You don’t think this was a robbery, do you?”
Libby shook her head. “No.” If it was, it was the strangest one she’d ever seen.
Susie reached up and grabbed Bernie’s hand. “I want you to find my babies, and then I want you to find out who did this. Promise that you will,” Susie said, squeezing Bernie’s hand. “Please. I’m begging you.”
“Don’t worry,” Bernie said as she gently disengaged her hand from Susie’s. She couldn’t bring herself to say no.
“Everything is going to be fine,” Libby reassured Susie. “Go inside and lie down.”
Susie nodded and held out her hands. “Now please help me up.”
The sisters did. Then they watched as Susie slowly made her way to her house, a large, oddly diminished figure swathed in gold lamé moving slowly and painfully down the hill.
Libby sighed. “I actually feel sorry for her,” she said.
“Me too,” Bernie replied. “It really was a mean thing to do.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Libby replied, thinking of the expression on Susie’s face and the way her shoulders slumped. “It’s not funny.”
“Well, it was a little funny,” Bernie said.
“Yeah. Okay, it was a lot funny,” Libby conceded. “But it was still a mean thing to do. I thought Susie was going to have a heart attack.”
“Maybe that was the idea,” Bernie said.
“There are easier ways to accomplish that goal,” Libby noted as she gazed out at the lawn. By now all the cats were outside chasing the mice. She sighed. “I guess we should collect them.”
“The mice?”
“Ha. Ha,” Libby said. “Do you think this really is about getting those collars?” she asked her sister.
“No. Do you?”
Libby shook her head as she tried to locate the kitties and the people. It didn’t help that they’d all gone off in all directions. Boris seemed to be heading for the woods, while Natasha was scurrying up a birch tree. Ivan was under a bush, while Serge and Vladimir had gotten distracted and were attacking a garden hose. From what Libby could see, everyone still had their collars on.
“Where are the other three Russian blues?” Libby asked. She could see the little white collars Anya, Olga, and Katya had been wearing in the grass, but not the cats who had been wearing them.
“I see Anya over there,” Bernie said, pointing to a shadow moving along the side of a large, oblong igneous rock outcropping.
Libby squinted. It took her a moment, but she finally spotted her. Her grayish blue coat blended in with the rock, making her difficult to see.
Bernie pointed again. “And Olga and Katya are over there.”
Libby nodded. She could see them now. Olga was sitting on a low-hanging branch of a black locust, while Katya was standing next to the trunk of a Chinese elm. Libby was surprised at how well their coats blended in with their surrounding environment, and if it wasn’t for the collars they were wearing, she might not have seen them at all.
The people, on the other hand, were a lot easier to spot. Charlene was heading toward the far side of the house; Mrs. Van Trumpet was leaning against one of the tent posts, fanning herself with the edge of her hand; Allison was tr
otting toward her car; and Marie was standing in the middle of the grass, looking for something in her tote.
“No one seems particularly concerned about Susie or the cats,” Libby noted.
“No, they certainly don’t,” Bernie replied. “I guess we should go get the kitties before something else does.”
Libby sighed. This was not how she’d planned the day.
Chapter 8
It took Bernie and Libby three hours to capture all eight of the Russian blues. It was a long three hours. By the end of it, the cats were tired and raggedy and ready to go home, and so were Libby and Bernie.
In the first hour and a half, they’d gotten five. As they’d caught each one, they put it in one of the small coaches Ralph and Grace had pushed down the aisles, and fastened the netting so the kitties couldn’t get out. Not that they had seemed to want to. In fact, they had seemed happy to be back in captivity. The bits of caviar Libby had fed them didn’t hurt, either.
“What?” Libby had said to Bernie when she caught the expression on her sister’s face. “I’m not doing anything Susie wouldn’t want me to.”
“I suppose,” Bernie replied. She knew what Libby was saying was true; it was just that she was having trouble feeding the cats something that cost over a thousand dollars an ounce.
“Some help wouldn’t hurt, either,” Libby observed as she watched Olga start cleaning herself.
Bernie looked up from examining a scratch on her arm she’d gotten from a pricker bush. “It’s amazing how everyone has vanished. Where are they?”
“Not doing this,” Libby said as she counted the cats they’d managed to round up so far. Three more to go, she thought. She shook her head and frowned. They’d never make it back to A Little Taste of Heaven in time. Thank God they didn’t have any other events on their calendar today. She called the shop to tell Amber and Googie that they were going to be late.
“What did they say?” Bernie asked when Libby put her cell back in her pocket.
Libby took a drink from her water bottle. “They can cover for us.”
“Excellent,” Bernie remarked as she prepared herself to get the cats who were still at large.
It took another hour and a half. They had to climb trees, crawl through the undergrowth, and battle pricker bushes, but they did it. Then they pulled the coaches back to Susie’s house and walked through the door, which was unlocked.
“We’re here,” Libby called as she and Bernie wheeled the cat coaches into the hallway. They undid the netting, and the cats tumbled out and scattered. “Susie.” All Libby wanted to do was go home, take a bath, and have a bite to eat, but they had to talk to Susie first and see what she wanted them to do with the rest of the food.
Susie didn’t answer.
“Maybe she’s taking a nap,” Libby suggested.
Bernie shook her head. “Doubtful. Not with her precious babies missing.”
“She could be in the bathroom and not have heard us,” Libby said.
“Maybe,” Bernie conceded as they began walking through Susie’s house. The other cats, the ones not invited to the wedding, plus Ivan, Anya, and Serge followed them, winding around their feet and generally being a pain in the butt.
“Susie,” Bernie kept calling, but there was no response.
“I hope she didn’t have a heart attack and die,” Libby said.
“Don’t say that,” Bernie told her, picturing Susie’s red face. “We should have called nine-one-one.”
“Yes, we should have,” Libby said, picking up her pace.
A few minutes later, the sisters stepped into the study. Boris and Natasha had run on ahead of them and were perched on Susie’s desk, while Susie sat in the chair she’d been in when Bernie and Libby had first talked to her.
“There you are,” Libby said.
Susie remained silent. Her back was to them.
“Are you feeling better?” Libby asked Susie.
Susie didn’t answer. Bernie and Libby exchanged glances. They were getting another bad feeling on a day replete with them. Meanwhile, the cats had jumped onto Susie’s lap. The motion caused the chair Susie was sitting in to slowly swing around so that she faced Bernie and Libby.
They gasped.
Bernie put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God,” she said.
Susie, on the other hand, said nothing at all.
“Well, I guess we know why Susie didn’t answer us,” Bernie observed after a moment. “After all, it’s hard to talk with a letter opener stuck in the middle of your throat.”
Libby stepped closer to the desk to get a better look. Susie’s eyes seemed to follow her as Boris butted his head against one of her hands and meowed. “Not that anyone would have heard her, anyway, even if she had yelled for help.”
“Except for her killer.”
“Yes. Except for him. Or her.”
Bernie pointed to Susie’s face. “Look at her expression and the way she’s sitting. I think it’s safe to say that she knew whoever did this.”
“Not necessarily. Whoever did it could have approached her from behind,” Libby objected.
“Maybe,” Bernie conceded as one of the Russian blues jumped down from a bookshelf and sauntered out of the room. “But it would be difficult to stab her in the throat from that position.”
“Difficult, but not impossible,” Libby said.
“True.” Bernie clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth while she thought. “What about the cats?”
“What about them?” Libby asked.
“They would have given her a warning.”
“They’re not like dogs. They don’t bark,” Libby countered.
“But they would have moved around,” Bernie argued. “Which Susie would have noticed.”
Libby started nibbling on one of her cuticles, realized what she was doing, and stopped. “So, what’s your point?”
“My point,” Bernie repeated, “is that she knew whoever did this, and it’s probably someone right here in River City.”
Libby wrinkled her nose. “River City?”
“From The Music Man,” Bernie said impatiently. She’d recently started watching old musicals.
“How could I not know that?” Libby said as she dug around in her pants pocket and came out with a couple of squares of dark Venezuelan chocolate. She handed one to her sister, unwrapped the remaining square, and plopped it into her mouth. No matter what anyone said, chocolate helped her think. “At least,” she said, changing the subject, “we have a time line. We know this happened in the past three hours.” Then she pointed to the letter opener. “That’s Susie’s.”
Bernie nodded. “It certainly is.” She remembered seeing it on her desk. The letter opener had a silver blade and an engraved teak handle that ended with an extremely realistic image of a cat with ruby eyes. “I mean, who uses a letter opener these days? Who has letters to open?”
“Evidently, Susie has.” Libby corrected herself. “Had.” Libby started to reach into her pocket for another square of chocolate, then remembered she didn’t have any more. “Meaning this was probably a crime of opportunity. The person who killed her used what was at hand—so to speak.”
“Agreed,” Bernie said. “So, we can posit that words were exchanged.” She looked around the room. Nothing seemed to be in disarray. “But nothing more.”
Libby was about to say, “Unless somebody straightened up after themselves,” when she heard a noise behind her. She stiffened and whirled around. So did Bernie. A moment later another cat sauntered out from behind the sofa, jumped up on one of the cushions, and began cleaning its hind leg. Libby and Bernie laughed out of relief. But then they heard another noise coming from behind the sofa.
“Probably another cat,” Bernie said.
“Probably,” Libby agreed.
But this time the cat didn’t come out.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” Libby cooed, trying to get the cat out.
Meanwhile, Bernie began looking around for something she coul
d use as a weapon. Just in case it wasn’t a cat back there, after all. She spied a paperweight on Susie’s desk and picked it up. It wasn’t ideal. But it would have to do. She was weighing it in her hand when she heard a muffled sneeze.
“That doesn’t sound like a cat sneeze to me,” Libby said.
“Meow, meow.”
“And that doesn’t sound like a cat,” Libby said. “Come out and show yourself.”
Two more meows followed. They weren’t any better than the first two.
“That’s pathetic,” Libby said to the sofa. “You should be embarrassed. You’re not even close.”
“Listen,” Bernie added. “I’ve got a gun. If you don’t come out now, I’ll shoot.”
“No you don’t,” the person behind the sofa said. “You’re lying.”
“No I’m not,” Bernie said.
Libby wrinkled her forehead. “Ralph? Is that you?”
“Yeah,” he said, sighing. “Unfortunately.” A moment later, there was a rustle behind the sofa and Ralph stood up.
“See? I knew you were lying,” he told Bernie when he saw the paperweight. “You know, that’s really expensive Baccarat,” he informed her. “You should put it down before you drop it.”
“Somehow, I don’t think Susie is going to care,” Bernie told him as she pointed to Ralph’s shirt, pants, and leggings. They were no longer just pink and white. Now they were splattered with red. “You want to explain the blood?”
Ralph took a step back. “I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t do it,” he said. He raised his hand. “I swear I didn’t.” He pointed to Susie. “I found my aunt like that.”
Libby folded her arms over her chest. “Right. And I suppose her blood just jumped onto your clothes?”
Ralph bit his lip. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “I was trying to see if she was alive or not. She wasn’t,” he said, looking down at the floor.
Bernie rolled her eyes. “No kidding.”
“Hey, I’ve never seen a dead body before,” Ralph explained. “So forgive me if I wanted to make sure.”
“Why didn’t you call nine-one-one?” Bernie asked.
“I was going to, but then I heard the front door open, and I heard you guys come in,” Ralph explained, looking from Bernie to Libby and back again.
A Catered Cat Wedding Page 5