The 9 Lives Cozy Mystery Boxed Set

by Louise Clark

  "Did you get the e-mail?" Sledge asked, cracking his own can as he sat down beside Hammer.

  Hammer nodded. His expression was morose. The e-mail from Vince's wife contained funeral details: viewing times, when and where for the service and then the private, family and close friends only, interment. Sledge and Hammer had both been invited to the private service two days from now.

  Taking a swig of beer, Hammer said, "I hope to God I haven't been arrested when we put Vince in the ground."

  Ellen winced. Trevor said, "That's why we're here today. What's that West Van cop—Szostalo, isn't it?" Hammer nodded. "What's he up to? Is he harassing you?"

  "Yes. No." Hammer shrugged. "I don't know if he'd call it harassment, but I feel like it is when he asks me questions. He asks the same questions in different ways, over and over until I'm confused about what I did and where I was. He wants me to confess, but what do I have to confess? That Vince and I had an argument and said harsh words to each other before he died and now we'll never be able to make it right?"

  "Not what he has in mind," Trevor said crisply. He pointed at Hammer. "The next time he tries to talk to you, tell him you need counsel present. If he tells you to come to the station, refuse. If he insists, say you want your lawyer with you. If he arrests you, say you won't talk to him until you have representation."

  Hammer nodded gloomily. "I didn't kill Vince. I wouldn't. I couldn't. He could be a jackass and he'd fix on an idea, like the one that I dump Kyle because the cops were fingering him for the girl's murder. He could drive you nuts, but—" He shook his head before he lifted the can, then drank. When he lowered it again, he said, "He cared about the band, of course, but he also cared about us, Sledge and me, as people."

  "And we cared about him," Sledge said quietly.

  Hammer nodded. "I hate that Vince is dead."

  Ellen, who was sitting on the small slipper chair with the yellow silk covering, reached out and laid her hand over Hammer's. "It will get easier once the funeral is over and you have a chance to grieve."

  Hammer nodded. "That's what my dad says."

  "We won't heal until we figure out who killed Vince. Szostalo isn't looking beyond Hammer, so we need to," Sledge said.

  Hammer looked at him with raised brows. "You haven't solved the arena murder. What makes you think you can figure out who killed Vince?"

  "We were all at the party," Ellen said. She folded her hands in her lap and looked at Sledge and Hammer with a cool haughty expression. "Sledge's house is in an exclusive development. There are no random passersby. It had to be someone who was at the party. That means we have a limited pool of suspects to choose from."

  "That's why Szostalo is looking at you, Graham," Trevor said.

  Sledge noted with amusement his father was using Hammer's proper name, probably in deference to Ellen's dislike of nicknames.

  "He'd probably be after Rob too," Trevor continued, "but Rob was in the middle of things, with several people who can vouch for his whereabouts. He's fixed on you because you're easy. You went out of the building. You were alone, on your own, when the murder happened. You have motive and you had opportunity."

  "I was halfway down the mountain when the murder happened!" Hammer said, outraged.

  "So you say. Let's see if there is any hard evidence that will prove it," Trevor said.

  Hammer's eyes flashed and for a moment Sledge wondered if he was going to surge to his feet, grab Trevor, then punch him out. He hoped not. If he did, Sledge would have to punch him right back, because no one, not even a best friend, hit his dad. Then there's be a brawl right here in Ellen's living room, which would probably turn all the antiques into broken junk to be disposed of. Ellen would be mad and he'd have to replace the busted furniture, which, come to think of it, might be a good thing, after all.

  Hammer had a temper. Both Gowdy boys did. Most of the time he kept it under wraps. After a long moment of charged silence, Hammer asked, "What do you want to know?" There was an edge to his voice that said he was still annoyed, but he wasn't going to erupt right now.

  "Take us through what you did, from the moment the argument ended. Don't hold back. It's the small details that are often the ones that are the most important."

  Hammer drank more beer, then he said, "I was furious at Vince. I felt choked, like all the words I wanted to say to him were stuck in my throat. I had to get out of there. I didn't want to go back out onto the deck. Kyle was out there and if I saw him, I knew I'd only get madder. So I rushed up the stairs to the front door and went out. It was a nice night, a little cool, but there were no clouds and I could see the stars." He'd been staring at the beer can in his hands, but now he looked up and glanced from one to the other of his listeners. "As soon as I got outside I started to calm down. I knew I was going to have to sort things out with Vince and I figured that if I took a walk and thought things through, I'd be better able to make him understand me."

  "So you left the property and headed down the street," Trevor said.

  Hammer nodded.

  "Did you see anyone who might know what time it was when you set off? Or who might notice where you went? Hear anything unusual?"

  Hammer looked thoughtful. "I heard a rustling in the trees that surround Sledge's house. At first I thought it was the wind, but it couldn't have been." He grimaced. "In fact, I know it wasn't. It was that damned cat of yours, Ms. Jamieson. He was stalking the Siamese that lives near Sledge."

  "You're sure of this?" Trevor asked.

  Hammer nodded. He grinned, then glanced at Ellen and wiped the smile from his face. "I saw the cats near the end of the driveway. Together. They were, ah, mating." He cleared his throat. "I ignored them and turned onto the road."

  "How long did you walk and how far?" Trevor asked.

  Hammer considered that. "I was almost at the entrance to the development by the time I turned back."

  "That's a five-minute walk," Sledge said. "The houses are on good sized lots. If you were there you couldn't have killed Vince and got back to my house when you did. Why is Szostalo hassling you?"

  "Because unless he has proof Graham was where he said he was, it's only his word. Szostalo can ignore it." Trevor said.

  "It might have been ten," Hammer said. "I wasn't walking fast and when I heard the cat howling, I had to run to get back to your place. Do you know how steep the grade is in your area?" he asked, aiming the question at Sledge. "I was panting by the time I got there."

  "Why did you rush back when the cat howled?" Ellen asked.

  Hammer frowned, then shrugged. "I'm not sure. I thought about the rustling sounds, then I wondered if there was a bear or a cougar in the area. I thought the cat might be in trouble. The old guy walking his dog might have been what caused me to wonder."

  "An old guy walking his dog?" Ellen asked. Her eyes were open wide, her expression invited confidences.

  Hammer nodded. "Yeah, Sledge knows him. He lives in the second house from the end of the street."

  "You mean Mr. Hulbert? Has a black and white Sheltie?"

  Hammer nodded.

  "You talked to him?" Sledge asked.

  Hammer nodded again.

  "Did Mr. Hulbert happen to notice the time, Graham?" Ellen asked. Her voice was even, soothing almost. There was no evidence of rush, though Sledge was certainly feeling it.

  Hammer said, "He must have. He looked at his watch, then shook his head and said, 'Cougar's probably caught a cat. Stupid to let a pet out at five minutes past midnight around here.' I agreed, then I thought about your cat and the Siamese and I wondered if anyone in the house had heard them. I had this vague idea that I needed to help, so I ran back to your place, Sledge."

  "Did you tell Szostalo this, Graham?" Trevor asked.

  Hammer frowned, then shook his head. "I only thought of it now."

  Trevor rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Okay, don't." He looked at Sledge. "Can you phone this neighbor and see if he corroborates Hammer's story?"

  "Sure." Relief washe
d over Sledge. He never believed Hammer had killed Vince, but he'd been afraid it would be impossible to prove his friend's innocence.

  "Once we have a name, address, phone number and a willing witness, we'll hit the good detective Szostalo with our information and let him know he can start looking elsewhere for his murderer." Trevor's expression was smug, as if he was going to take great pleasure in making the detective's life more difficult.

  Eliminating Hammer as a suspect would certainly shake up the cop, but how long would it take for him to find the real killer? If he did. Sledge hated the idea that someone had used his house and his party to take Vince's life. He needed to know who that was.

  And he wouldn't rest easy until he did.

  Chapter 22

  The sky over the San Diego Zoo was a deep blue, dusted with the odd fluffy white cloud. The temperature on this March day was warm, but not hot, and the air was freshened by a light breeze. It was the perfect day to stroll along the many winding paths and enjoy the animal exhibits that were the best there were in providing a compromise between animal comfort and visitor viewing.

  Christy, Quinn, and Noelle had entered the zoo about an hour after it opened. They'd wandered for a couple of hours then paused for lunch before they'd set out again to enjoy the exhibits they hadn't yet viewed. When they first arrived Noelle had skipped along the trail, full of energy and excitement. Now, several hours later, she was still in awe of the animals she was seeing, but her steps were dragging. Still, she didn't want to leave until she had viewed absolutely everything.

  So they ambled lazily down the path, pausing to take pictures and point out animals that were difficult to see in their habitats, or watch others that were putting on a show. They could have been any of the hundreds of families wandering the grounds. A mom, a dad, and a daughter, happy and carefree on their day out.

  But they weren't. Christy was still wrestling with the news that Roy had imparted to Quinn. Could it be possible that Frank was gone? That he had slipped away while she and his daughter were away? If she and Noelle hadn't come down here with Quinn, would Frank still be living in Stormy the Cat, irritating her with his comments and his apparent assumption that he remained her husband, even though he wasn't alive anymore?

  Had Frank truly left Stormy's body? And was it her fault?

  As if he sensed her dark thoughts, Quinn slipped his hand over hers and squeezed. She looked over at him and smiled. He'd been wonderful since Roy's phone call. He'd held her as her first blank shock had turned to grief and when tears started to trickle down her cheeks, he'd pulled her close and soothed her while she cried. Then he'd listened while she babbled about loss and endings and who knew what else. She'd fallen asleep in his arms, but he must have stayed awake, or perhaps merely dozed, because he woke her well before Noelle's usual time so that she could slip back into the bedroom she shared with her daughter.

  He must be exhausted, but looking at him now she could see only the smallest hints of it in shadows below his eyes and the strain around his mouth. Instead he appeared alert, watchful, and ready for anything. She was so lucky to have him here with her, but was she expecting too much of Quinn by dumping her grief over her late husband on him?

  He caught her look and smiled. In that moment she could believe that he didn't mind. That he was glad she felt comfortable enough in their relationship to lean on him. Their lovemaking had brought them closer. Perhaps Frank's passing would bring them closer still.

  "We're coming up on another of the big cats," he said now.

  Noelle, who was a little ahead, looked over her shoulder and asked, "What kind is it?"

  "It's called a Clouded Leopard and it's only found in Southeast Asia."

  Noelle still had enough energy to do a little skip while she processed this. "What's it look like?"

  "You'll see," Christy said. She laughed at her daughter's scowl.

  Quinn said, "We'll tell you all about it when we find it."

  Noelle had to be satisfied with that. Christy could see that she was looking around with sharpened interest now that there was another of the big cats to view. They'd already passed the tiger exhibit, and the lions, leopards, and cheetahs. The white snow leopard had been a big hit as well. She'd thought they had already reached the end of the supply of felines and had been relieved. She had half expected Noelle to compare the cats to Stormy and she wasn't sure what exactly she'd say if her daughter brought up the family pet.

  Last night, their second to last night in California, she and Quinn had talked about how and when to tell Noelle that her daddy would not be in Stormy when they got back to Vancouver. Christy wanted to choose a moment before they got back to Burnaby, but one that would not mar Noelle's pleasure in her holiday. They'd tentatively decided that she would do it once they deplaned in Vancouver. That way they'd be on home turf, and Noelle would already be transitioning from being on vacation back into everyday life.

  The plan would work only if Noelle didn't mention her father. If she did, Christy couldn't lie outright. Or even lie by omission. She'd have to tell Noelle, then deal with the grief that would follow as best she could. This late in the day, Christy hoped that the clouded leopard, which was supposed to be rarely seen in the wild, would have decided that it had had enough of being on display and gone to ground for the night in some private part of its compound. Noelle would be disappointed, but the danger of a chance remark about her father would be over.

  Christy was out of luck. When they reached the exhibit there was the clouded leopard, front and center in his enclosure, dozing in the late afternoon sun, clearly visible. Noelle sucked in a deep breath. Her eyes widened and she said, "Is this the Clouded Leopard, Quinn?"

  "Sure looks like it," Quinn said. He was staring at the clouded leopard with a fixed expression. Christy wondered if he was as horrified as she was.

  As big cats went, the clouded leopard was one of the smaller ones. Its markings were not tiger stripes or leopard spots, but a combination of both. Big swirls, colored gold that tapered to greys and blacks, looked like clouds and had given the breed its name. They watched as the cat drew its paws under it, then stood and yawned. Its compact size and the unusual markings made it seem familiar.

  "Stormy!" Noelle said, with delight. "Mom, look! Isn't he beautiful?"

  Christy's heart sank. "Yes, he is, sweetheart."

  Noelle moved closer until her face was jammed against the protective barrier and she was as close as she could get to the big cat. "Tell me about the Clouded Leopard, Quinn."

  Quinn consulted the zoo's website on his phone, then said, "Clouded Leopards aren't really leopards. They are a separate breed of big cat. They live in Southeast Asia. Not much is known about them because they're shy in the wild and stay away from people."

  Christy wished that this clouded leopard behaved like his wild relatives and hid from human eyes. Too bad the animal hadn't read the memo on proper species behavior.

  "I'm glad he's not being shy," Noelle said, looking over her shoulder at Christy and Quinn. "He reminds me of Stormy so much! I bet Daddy would love this cat if he could see him."

  In its compound, the clouded leopard did a full body stretch, yawned again, glanced their way, then padded to a treed area and disappeared into the shadows. They stood waiting for it to reappear, but after a few minutes, when it did not, Christy reached out for Noelle's hand and said, "Come on, kiddo. It's almost time for the zoo to close. We need to get moving."

  Noelle sighed and said, "Okay, Mom," then let herself be guided away from the exhibit.

  As they strolled along the pathway, Quinn dropped behind. He was leaving Christy with Noelle and giving her the space and privacy to explain Frank's silence and probable passing to her daughter. Christy wasn't sure how to begin. Or, indeed, what she could say to make the news easier on Noelle. She chewed her lip. Finally, she said, "Roy phoned the other night."

  Noelle looked up at her. "Does he miss us?"

  "He does, but that's not why he was calling. It was
about Daddy."

  At that, Noelle frowned. "Did something happen to Stormy?"

  "No. Stormy's okay. It's Daddy. He's not talking anymore."

  "Is he mad at Roy?"

  "No. It's—" How to explain that Stormy witnessed a murder and the trauma may have convinced Frank it was time for him to move on? "Something bad happened and Daddy saw it. He hasn't spoken to anyone since. I think, honey, that he may have decided it was time to go to heaven."

  Noelle's hand tightened in hers. "Without saying good-bye?"

  Christy had wrestled with that too. "We knew Daddy couldn't stay in Stormy's body forever. It was just a matter of time..."

  "No." Noelle said the word firmly. The expression on her face was determined to the point of stubbornness. "Daddy wouldn't leave without saying good-bye. He loves us, Mom. He wouldn't do that to us!"

  "Sweetheart, sometimes we don't have the option of choosing our time."

  They walked in silence for a minute. Noelle stared straight ahead, while Christy fought the urge to cry. When Noelle looked over at her again, there was both a plea and belief in her eyes. "Daddy wouldn't go without telling. I know he wouldn't. When we get home he'll talk to us again. I know it."

  Christy bit her lip. She could press no further. Noelle might be right. Hadn't she thought the same thing? Maybe Frank still was there. Once she and Noelle were back he'd bitch about the decisions she made and start taking potshots at Ellen again, all in his usual way.

  So she nodded to Noelle and said, "I hope you're right, kiddo."

  Relief shone in Noelle's eyes. "I bet I am!" She tugged at Christy's hand. "You'll see."

  Christy looked over her shoulder at Quinn as she allowed Noelle to pull her closer to the next exhibit. His smile said that she'd done all she could and that she'd let the subject drop at just the right moment. As they paused at the next exhibit, he caught up with them and slipped his arm around her waist. She leaned into him and thought, not for the first time, that she was a lucky woman.