Susan opened the egg carton. “You sure have. Kerry, it’s never as bad as you think it is.”
“Thanks,” came the wobbly reply.
“Where’s Tucker?” Harry asked of Susan.
“Back at the house.”
“I’m going out to get Murphy. She won’t speak to me. Mrs. H.—”
“Yes.”
“Vet day. If I can’t convince that furry monster to go home with me, will you keep an eye on her? She’ll go to the post office or your back door.”
“I’ll put her in the store with Pewter. Murphy can’t resist a bite of sirloin,” Market offered.
He was right. Both cats waltzed through the back door about an hour later.
Late that night with the lights out, Murphy told Pewter what she had heard at the bank. They sat in the big storefront window and watched the fog roll down.
“You’ve never spent a night in the store,” Pewter observed. “It’s fun. I can go out if I want since Market put in a kitty door like yours, but mostly I like to sit in the window and watch everything.”
“It was nice of Market to let me stay. Nice of him to call Harry too. I suppose she thinks I’m learning a lesson. Fat chance. I’ll remember the date.”
“She fooled you. She took you to the vet on Sunday. Special trip.”
Mrs. Murphy thought about that. “She’s smarter than I think. Wonder what she had to pay Dr. Parker to make a special trip to the office?”
When Hogan pulled into the bank, his headlights were diffused in the thickening mist. The cats could just make him out as he unlocked the front door and entered. Within a minute the lights went on upstairs, in a fuzzy golden square.
“Diligent,” Pewter said. She licked one paw and wiped it over an ear.
Lights turned off in other buildings as the hours passed. Finally only a few neon lights shone in store windows or over signs; the street lamps glowed. The cats dozed, then Mrs. Murphy opened her eyes.
“Pewter, wake up. I heard a car behind us.”
“People use the alleyway.”
A door slammed, they heard the crunch of human shoes. Then a figure appeared at the corner. Whoever it was had walked the length of the alleyway. They couldn’t make out who it was or even what gender, as the fog was now dense. In a moment, swirling gray swallowed the person.
Inside his office Hogan kept blinking. His eyes, exhausted by the screen of the computer, burned. His brain burned too. He tried all manner of things. He punched in the word Threadneedle. He remembered the void commands. He finally decided he would review clients’ accounts. Something might turn up that Norman had missed. An odd transfer or an offshore transfer. He could go through the accounts quickly since he knew these people and their small businesses. He was at the end of the H’s by midnight. An unfamiliar yet familiar name snagged him.
“Huckstep,” he said aloud. “Huckstep.” He punched in the code to review the account. It had been opened July 30 in the name of Michael and Malibu Huckstep, a joint account. Of course—the murdered man. He must have intended to stick around, if he opened an account. That meant he had an account card with his signature and his wife’s. He was going to go downstairs to check the card files, but first the buttons clicked as he checked the amount in the savings account: $4,218.64. Not a lot of money but enough. He rubbed his eyes and checked his wrist-watch. Past twelve. Too late to call Rick Shaw. He’d call him first thing in the morning.
Meanwhile he’d go down and check those signature cards. He stood up, interlocked his fingers, and stretched his hands over his head. His knuckles cracked just as the bullet from a .357 tore into his shoulder. He opened his mouth to call out his assailant’s name, but too late. The next one exploded his heart and he crashed down into his chair.
Back in the store, the cats heard the gunfire.
“Hurry!” Mrs. Murphy yelled as they both screeched out the kitty door. As they ran toward the bank, they heard through the dense fog footsteps running in the opposite direction, up at the corner.
“Damn! Damn!” The tiger cursed herself.
“What’s the matter?”
“Pewter, we should have gone around back to see the car.”
“Too late now.” The smallish but rotund gray cat barreled toward the bank.
Arriving at the front step only a couple of minutes after the gunfire, they stopped so fast at the door that they tumbled over one another and landed on a figure slumped in the doorway, a smoking .357 in her hand.
“Oh, NO!” Murphy cried.
24
Kerry McCray lay slumped across the front doorway of the bank. A small trickle of blood oozed from her head. The acrid odor of gunpowder filled the air. The pistol was securely grasped in her right hand.
“We’ve got to get Mrs. Hogendobber.” Mrs. Murphy sniffed Kerry’s wound.
“Maybe I should stay here with her.” Pewter kept patting Kerry’s face in a vain effort to revive her.
“If only Tucker were here.” The tiger paced around the inert form. “She could guard Kerry. Look, Pewter, we’ll have to risk that she’ll be safe. It’s going to take two of us to get Mrs. Hogendobber here.”
That said, the two sped through the fog, running so low to the ground and so fast that the pads of their paws barely touched it. They pulled up under Miranda’s bedroom window which was wide open to catch the cooling night air. A screen covered the window.
“Let’s sing,” Murphy commanded.
They hooted, hollered, and screeched. Those two cats could have awakened the dead.
Miranda, in her nightdress, shoe in hand, came to the window. She opened the screen and let fly. Mrs. Murphy and Pewter dodged the missile with ease.
“Bad shot! Come on, Mrs. H., come on!”
“Pewter?” Miranda squinted into the fog.
The tubby kitty jumped up on the windowsill followed by Mrs. Murphy before Miranda could close the screen.
“Oh, please, Mrs. Hogendobber, please listen to us. There’s terrible trouble—” Pewter said.
“Somebody’s hurt!” Murphy bellowed.
“You two are getting on my nerves. Now, you get on out of here.” Miranda slid the screen up again.
“No!” they replied in unison.
“Follow me.” Murphy ran to the door of the bedroom.
Miranda simply didn’t get it even though Pewter kept telling her to hurry, hurry.
“Watch out. She might swat,” Murphy warned Pewter as she snuck in low and bit Miranda’s ankle.
“Ouch!” Outraged, Mrs. Hogendobber switched on the light and picked up the phone. As she did, she noticed the cats circling her and then going back and forth to the door. Their distress affected her, but she wasn’t sure what to do and she was mad at Murphy. She dialed Harry.
A dull hello greeted her.
“Your cat has just bit me on the ankle and is acting crazy. Rabies.”
“Mrs. Hogendobber—” Harry was awake now.
“Pewter’s here too. Screeching under my window like banshees and I opened the window and they jumped in and—” She bent down as Pewter rubbed her leg. She noticed a bit of blood on Pewter’s foreleg and paw where the cat had patted Kerry’s head. “Pewter has blood on her paw. Oh, dear, Harry, I think you’d better come here and get these cats. I don’t know what to do.”
“Keep them inside, okay? I’ll be right over, and I’m sorry Murphy bit you. Don’t worry about rabies—she’s had her shots, remember?” Harry hung up the phone, jumped into her jeans and an old workshirt. She hurried to the truck and cranked it up. As she blasted down the road, she stuck some gum in her mouth. She’d been in too big a rush to brush her teeth.
In seven minutes she was at Miranda’s door. As Harry entered the living room Murphy said, “Try again, Pewter. Mother’s a little smarter than Miranda.”
They both hollered, “Kerry McCray’s hurt.”
“Something’s wrong.” Harry reached for Pewter’s paw, but the cat eluded her and ran to the front door.
“R
abies.” Miranda folded her arms across her bosom.
“No, it isn’t.”
“That tiger, that hellcat, bit me.” She dangled her ankle out from under her nightdress. Two perfect fang marks, not deep but indenting the skin, were revealed.
“Come on,” Murphy yowled at the top of her lungs. She scratched at the front door.
“These two want something. I’m going to see. Why don’t you go back to bed. And I do apologize.”
“I’m wide awake now.” Miranda returned to her bedroom, threw on a robe and slippers, and reappeared. “I can’t go back to sleep once I’ve been awakened. Might as well prove that I’m as crazy as you and these cats are.” With that she sailed through the open door. “I can barely see my hand in front of my face. How’d you get here so quickly?”
“Drove too fast.”
“Come on. Come on.” Murphy trotted up ahead in the gray mists, then back. “Follow my voice.”
“Harry, we’re out on Main Street and they’re headed for the railroad tracks.”
“I know.” The air felt clammy on her skin.
“Is this some cat trick?”
“Shut up and hurry!” Pewter’s patience was wearing thin.
“Something definitely is agitating them and Murphy’s a reasonable cat—usually.”
“Cats are by definition unreasonable.” Miranda stepped faster.
The bank loomed in the mist, the upstairs light still burning.
The cats called to them through the fog. Harry saw Kerry first, lying facedown, right hand outstretched with the gun in it. Mrs. Murphy and Pewter sat beside her.
“Miranda!”
Mrs. Hogendobber moved faster, then she, too, saw what at first seemed like an apparition and then like a bad dream. “Good heavens.”
Harry skidded up to Kerry. She knelt down and felt for a pulse. Miranda was now next to her.
“Is she all right?” Mrs. Murphy asked.
“Her pulse is regular.”
Miranda watched Pewter touch Kerry’s head. “We’ve got to get an ambulance. I’ll go in the bank and call. The door’s open. That’s odd.”
“I’ll do it. I have a funny feeling something is really wrong in there. You stay here with her and don’t touch anything, especially the gun.”
Miranda realized as Harry disappeared into the bank that she’d been so distraught at the sight of the young woman, she hadn’t noticed the gun.
Harry returned shortly. “Got Cynthia. Called Reverend Jones too.”
“If this is as bad as I think it is, then I suppose Kerry needs a minister.” Miranda’s teeth were chattering although the night was mild.
Kerry opened her eyes. “Mrs. Murphy.”
The cat purred. “You’ll be fine.”
“After the headache goes away,” Pewter advised.
“Kerry—”
“Harry—” Kerry reached to touch her head as she rolled onto her side and realized a gun was in her right hand. She dropped it as if it were on fire and sat straight up. “Oh.” She clasped her head with both hands.
“Honey, you’d better lie back down.” Miranda sat beside her to ease her down.
“No, no—let me stay still.” Kerry forced a weak smile.
A coughing motor announced Herb. He pulled alongside the bank and got out. He couldn’t see them yet.
“Herbie, we’re at the front door,” Miranda called loudly to him.
His footsteps came closer. He appeared out of an envelope of thick gray fog. “What’s going on?”
“We don’t really know,” Miranda answered.
Kerry replied, “I feel dizzy and a little sick to my stomach.”
Herb noticed the bank door was wide open.
Harry said, “It was open. I used the phone inside, but I didn’t look around. Something’s wrong.”
“Yes—” He felt it too. “I’m going in.”
“Take the gun,” Miranda advised.
“No. No need.” He disappeared into the bank.
“Should we go with him?” Pewter wondered.
“No, I’m not leaving Mother.” Murphy continued purring because she thought the soothing sound might calm the humans.
“What little friends you are.” Kerry petted the cats, then stopped because even that made her stomach queasy.
“They found you and then they found us—well, it’s a long story.” Harry sat on the other side of Kerry.
“Herb, what’s the matter?” Miranda was shocked when he reappeared. His face, drained of all color, gave him a frightful appearance. He looked as sick as Kerry.
“Hogan Freely’s been murdered.” He sat heavily on the pavement almost the way a tired child drops down. “I’ve known him all my life. What a good man—what a good man.” Tears ran down his cheeks. “I’ve got to tell Laura.”
“I’ll go with you,” Miranda offered. “We can go after the sheriff arrives.”
“Kerry.” Harry, shaking, pointed to the gun.
Kerry’s voice wavered. “I didn’t kill him. I don’t even own a gun.”
“Can you remember what happened?” Harry asked.
“Up to a point, I can.” Kerry sucked in air, trying to drive out the pain. “I was over at Mother and Dad’s. Dad’s sick again, so I stayed late to help Mom. I didn’t leave until a little past midnight, and I was crawling along because of the fog. I passed the corner and thought I saw a light in Hogan’s office window. It was fuzzy but I was curious. I turned around and parked in the lot. I figured he was up there trying to find the money like he said he was going to do and I was going to surprise him, just kind of cheer him up. I walked up these steps and opened the door, and that’s all I remember.”
“What about sounds?” Harry asked.
“Or smells?” Pewter added. “Murphy, let’s go in and see if we can pick up a scent. Harry’s all right. No one’s around to hit her on the head and Kerry won’t do anything crazy.”
“Okay.”
The two cats left.
“I remember opening the door. I don’t remember footsteps or anything like that, but somebody must have heard me. I didn’t think I was making that much noise.”
“Luck of the draw,” Herb said. “You were going in as he was going out.”
The sirens in the distance meant Cynthia was approaching.
The two cats lifted their noses and sniffed.
“Let’s go upstairs.” Mrs. Murphy led the way.
As they neared Hogan’s office, Pewter said in a small voice, “I don’t think I want to see this.”
“Close your eyes and use your nose. And don’t step in anything.”
Murphy padded into the room. Hogan was sitting upright in his chair; his shoulder was torn away. Blood spattered the wall behind him. A small hole bore evidence to the bullet that killed him. Murphy could smell the blood seeping into the upholstery of the chair.
Pewter opened one eye and then shut it. “I can’t smell anything but blood and gunpowder.”
“Blood and gunpowder.” Mrs. Murphy leapt onto his desk with a single bound. She tried not to look into Hogan’s glassy stare. She liked him and didn’t want to remember him like this.
His computer was turned off. His desk drawers were closed. There was no sign of struggle. She touched her nose to every article on his desk. Then she jumped back to the floor. She stopped by the front of his desk.
“Here.”
Pewter placed her nose on the spot. “Rubber. Rubber and wet.”
“From the misty night, I would think. Rubber won’t leave much of a print and not in this carpet. Dammit! Rubber, blood, and gunsmoke. Whoever did this was no dummy.”
“Maybe so, Murphy, but whoever did this was in a hurry. The computer is off but still warm.” Pewter noticed Hogan’s feet under the desk. “Let’s talk about this outside. This place gives me the creeps.”
“Okay.” It bothered Murphy, too, but she didn’t want to admit it.
As they walked back down the stairs, Pewter continued. “If someone wanted t
o dispatch Hogan Freely, there are better ways to do it.”
“I agree. So, he was getting close to the missing money.”
As the cats passed through the lobby, Rick Shaw entered. He saw them but didn’t say anything.
The blue and red flashing lights of the squad car and the ambulance reflected off the fog.
Kerry, on a stretcher, was being carried to the back of the ambulance.
The cats stood next to Harry and Mrs. Hogendobber. Herb, with a slow tread, turned to enter the bank. Cynthia, pad out, was taking notes.
“Herb, I’ll go with you.”
“Good.”
“We’ll wait here.” Harry pulled Miranda back as she was about to follow. “You’ll have nightmares.”
“You’re right—but I feel so awful. I hate to think of him up there, alone and—”
“Don’t think about it and don’t let Laura think about it either when you go over there with Reverend Jones. It’s too painful. She doesn’t have to know all the details.”
“You’re right.” Miranda lowered her eyes. “This is dreadful.”
“Dreadful—” Mrs. Murphy whispered, “and just beginning.”
25
The hospital smell bothered Harry, reminding her of her mother’s last days on earth. She avoided visiting anyone in a hospital if she could, but invariably duty overcame aversion and she would venture down the impersonal corridors.
Kerry was being kept for twenty-four hours to make sure she suffered no further effects from her assault. The doctors treated any blow to the head as serious. Cynthia Cooper was sitting next to Kerry’s bed when Harry entered the room.
“How you doing?”
“Okay—considering.”
“Hi, Coop.”
“Hi.” Coop shifted in her seat. “Hell of a night.”
Kerry fiddled with her hospital identification wristband. “Cynthia went with Rick and Herbie to Laura Freely’s. Laura collapsed when they told her.”
“Who’s with her until Dudley and Thea can fly home?” Dudley and Thea were the Freelys’ adult children.
“Miranda spent the night there. Mim’s with Laura right now. The ladies will take turns even once the children return. There’s so much to do and Laura is sedated. She can’t make any of the decisions that need to be made. I think Ellie Wood Baxter, Port, and even BoomBoom will work out a schedule.” Cynthia stretched her legs.
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