by Anna Kern
“That won’t be a problem. Bernice and I can handle the customers, and we’ll watch the cats.”
“I’m taking Murfy with me, so he can play with her cat Simon while I work. Althea thinks her cat needs a playmate.”
Nelda laughed. “The notion that a cat needs anybody, even another cat, is hilarious.”
More than a half-hour later, Alyx was still trying to reach Althea on the phone to confirm our visit.
Bernice caught up with her when her customer walked away and asked if she was still going to Althea’s place.
“I’ve been calling for the past thirty minutes and she’s not answering her phone. I’m a little worried about her.”
“Maybe she ran out to get something,” offered Bernice by way of explanation.
“She’s expecting me; I don’t think she’d leave without calling. I hope you’re right.”
Alyx kept trying to reach Althea without success, giving Misty and Pooky the opportunity to corner me and let me know that they didn’t appreciate the fact that I’d dragged them to the store claiming it was important, and then I take off on a play date.
They were right to be angry. I should have explained. I apologized for my error, and I knew from their silence that my apology wasn’t accepted. No matter, we still had a job to do, and I told them what to look for and what to do if the thief came back.
“As every cat owner knows, no one owns a cat.”
––Ellen Perry Berkeley
CHAPTER SIX: No Need to Hurry
Althea lived in a condominium community on the river, minutes from the new bridge. Althea’s car was in the driveway, so Alyx parked in the space reserved for visitors. She rang the bell several times, knocked, and there was still no answer. She tried the door and amazingly it opened.
“Hello? Althea, it’s me, Alyx, are you home?” The stillness was unsettling. Aware that a cat lived there, Alyx closed the door behind us. She called again. No answer. She moved slowly into the living room and there was Althea, crumpled in a heap at the foot of the stairs. Alyx unceremoniously deposited the carrier with me in it where she stood, and crossed the short distance in a heartbeat. But I knew there was no need to hurry. Althea was dead.
A short time later, the police arrived. I immediately recognized Detective Smarts. He had wrongfully arrested Alyx’s son Ethan earlier in the year, and I hadn’t forgotten. I didn’t think much of his detective skills and I openly expressed my feelings. That is to say, I hissed and snarled at him. He practically snarled back. Alyx, on the other hand, politely answered his questions, telling him what she knew, keeping her feelings to herself.
Smarts asked her if Althea had any relatives.
“She did mention one niece, her husband’s niece, actually.”
“Do you know her name or where she lives?”
“Her first name is Carole. Her last name sounds like dirt––no wait––earth. That’s it! Carole Berth and I think she lives in Umatilla.”
He wrote it all down and flipped the page. “Why are you here, Ms. Hille?”
Alyx hesitated before answering. “Althea asked me to help her get rid of some of her furniture and redecorate her condominium. We had made an appointment for today. I called several times to confirm my visit, and when I didn’t reach her, I got worried and came over anyway. The rest I’ve already told you.”
“One question, Ms. Hille. I have an appreciation for antiques, and know the value of some of these pieces. Just how were you going to help her get rid of some of the furniture?”
“What I meant was that I would buy some pieces and take the rest on consignment,” she answered pleasantly.
He closed his notebook, and Alyx asked, “Are we finished here? Am I free to go?”
“We have to get your fingerprints, and then you can go.”
“Why do you need my prints?” she asked suspiciously.
“It’s procedure, Ms. Hille.”
“What about her cat? A Siamese. I’d like to look for him and take him home with me. That’s okay, isn’t it?”
“Other than filing some paperwork with the Humane Society, I don’t see why not. Go ahead and look for the cat, and I’ll go find someone to take your prints.”
She stood, and sat back down again. The detective saw the pallor in her cheeks and offered to get her a glass of ice water, which she accepted.
“Would you like me to call someone for you?”
“No, thank you. I need to sit for a few minutes, and I’ll be fine. Thanks for the water.”
Simon was nowhere to be found, and so we left immediately after a uniformed officer took Alyx’s fingerprints. Smarts was in the room the whole time, and I didn’t like the way he was looking at me. For a second, he had me thinking that he was going to have me paw-printed as well.
As soon as we drove away, Alyx called Maggie. She had been all right up until that point, and then when she told Maggie that Althea was dead, her eyes filled with tears, and she pulled off to the side of the road for a few minutes.
“I was going to bring her cat home with me, and I couldn’t find him.”
“He’ll probably reappear when he’s hungry.”
“Yes, except I won’t be there to see him.”
“I’ll swing over there on my way in tomorrow morning, and for the rest of the week, all right?”
“Thank you, Maggie.”
We stopped at her store only long enough to pick up Misty and Pooky. Once home, the felines and I trooped out to the lanai, where the girls barraged me with questions. Did Althea’s cat know what had happened? Was he upset? Who was taking care of him? I told them we hadn’t found Simon. Then I asked Misty what had happened in the shop while we were gone. She communicated that she was on the counter by the front door the whole time that I was gone, and didn’t see the thief or any other suspicious-looking person. The most exciting thing that happened was that Pooky got stuck in an open drawer she was inspecting. Pooky didn’t think it was very amusing and swatted Misty.
The communication came to a halt when Alyx came out on the lanai with a tuna salad sandwich. She ate half her sandwich and put the rest on her plate. I jumped on her lap and licked her hand, offering comfort as best I could, hoping for a taste of tuna. The others hunched quietly nearby for the same reason, also hoping for some leftovers. Then the home phone rang, and I positioned myself to hear the conversation––something I regularly do so I know what’s going on.
“Are you all right, Alyx?” Hunter asked when Alyx answered, pressing the button for speakerphone.
“How did you know I was home?”
“When you didn’t answer your cell phone I called the store. Bernice told me about Althea and that you’d gone home. I’m sorry. I know you were fond of her,” he said, “It must have been awful for you, finding her body.”
His voice was kind. Alyx sank deeper into my favorite chair and laid her head back. They talked a while and made a tentative date for later in the week. Alyx looked around the room she loved. She told Maggie that the mix of old, new and antiques together with the wood floor covered in colorful antique rugs made her feel grounded. She had brought work home with her and stayed busy the rest of the afternoon, detailing her part of the renovation for the arrogant new client who wanted her million-dollar home restored to its 1930s splendor.
The beachside home had deteriorated through neglect, and Alyx was thrilled when the home went up for sale. She had told Ethan that she hoped the new owners would restore it rather than have it razed. Maggie was clearly not impressed with the new owner, Linda Stone and told her so. Nevertheless, Alyx wanted to work on the house and Maggie agreed to take on the job, accepting her argument that the profit would be worth the effort––an odd argument coming from Alyx or Maggie for that matter.
“Most beds sleep up to six cats. Ten cats without the owner.”
––Stephen Baker
CHAPTER SEVEN: A Pioneer Christmas
Alyx found the perfect lamp she’d been looking for on-line, completed the t
ransaction and logged off when a car came up the drive. Before she could get to the door, she heard Ethan’s familiar greeting, “Hi, Mom; it’s me––your one and only son.”
“Hi, honey. I’m in the office.”
Misty pawed Ethan’s pockets for the expected treat he always brought whenever he visited, and we weren’t disappointed with the tasty morsels he produced. About six feet tall, with blue eyes, short black hair and a thin-line beard, Ethan, considered handsome by human female standards, gave his mother a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.
“I’ve missed you… been busy?” she asked casually.
“Sorry I haven’t been over, Mom. Nikki and I went to South Beach for a couple of days.”
“You could have told me that when I called you instead of letting me wonder what was going on.”
“Yeah, I know. You always worry when I tell you I’m going out of town, and I didn’t want you to worry. Besides, I’m twenty-three,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders, “I shouldn’t have to tell my mother everything I do.”
Having had only each other since her divorce years earlier, the mother-child bond was strong––except Ethan was no longer a child. Occasionally, Alyx had trouble remembering that, this time she did remember and wisely said no more on the subject other than, “I’m glad you’re back safe and sound.”
She served the cherry pie she’d picked up from the bakery, at the kitchen table where a bank of windows framed a perfect Southern picture––a huge magnolia tree with a white wrought iron bench sitting under its shady canopy. Alyx had designed the kitchen around the enamel-topped, 1940’s table and chairs that had been in her parent’s basement and that still held pleasant memories of the many family gatherings that had taken place while her parents were still living.
She told Ethan about Althea. “It was only yesterday that she was making plans for her future, for starting a new life.”
He asked if she knew the actual cause of death.
“No, I don’t. The fact is, I may never know.”
She mentioned Simon, the missing cat. “I know Althea would want me to make sure he has a home. But I don’t want another cat.” She gave him one of her special smiles, “How would you like to have a sleek, handsome Siamese cat?”
I liked the idea and tapped my tail. Misty saw my reaction and turned her back to me in obvious disapproval.
“Maybe, if he’s anything like Murfy.”
“I’ll let you know if he turns up.”
“Mom, I’m not promising. …”
“I know,” she said as she cleared the table. “So do you have plans for this week-end?”
“Yes. Nikki read in the paper that the old pioneer settlement is hosting its annual A Florida Christmas. Neither one of us has been there since we were in high school.”
“What did the article say about the event?”
“She said the historic buildings in the settlement are decked with old-fashioned pioneer ornaments. There’s music, including concerts in the 1890 church and visitors can join carolers as they stroll around the grounds.”
“That place is like a tiny rural village, isn’t it? I think the oldest building is the 1875 log cabin. My favorite is the kitchen in the old schoolhouse. I love the high ceiling with tall windows all along the wall looking out to the herb garden, not to mention the fresh-baked goods they offer.”
“My favorite was the blacksmith shop. I think I was intrigued by the red hot iron being pounded into something.”
“Well, it sounds like fun. All you need is some cool weather to make it perfect.”
“Yeah, that’s what Nikki said. Did they have sour orangeade the last time you went?”
“No, and it doesn’t sound like something I would want either,” she said, puckering her lips. “What is it?”
Ethan laughed. “Nikki said it’s an old Florida pioneer treat made from the juice of sour oranges.”
“Well, that’s a new one on me. I’ve never heard of sour orange trees, unless they mean from un-ripened oranges. Let me know what it tastes like.”
“I’ll do better than that. I’ll bring you some.
“A cat’s eyes are windows enabling us to see into another world.”
––Irish Legend
CHAPTER EIGHT: The Crime Is Murder
Sunday was Alyx’s turn to be on the sales floor and Maggie’s day off. They rotated their schedules so that everyone had two consecutive days off, if not necessarily the same two days, every week. However, it didn’t always work out that way for Alyx and Maggie. Sometimes, one or the other worked seven days in a row taking time off only when necessary. They would be first to tell you that the hard work and sacrifice paid off. They had achieved their dream, and Alyx had said more than once that they were more successful than either of them had ever expected. In fact, there had been some discussion about opening another store. As far as I knew, the discussion had ended there.
The customer at the cash register now, obviously excited about his purchase, was telling Alyx how thrilled his wife was going to be when he gave her the California Pottery oblong platter in her pattern––roses and tulips in mauve. Alyx wrapped the plate and bagged it in the new, expensive, brown paper gift bags with the name of the store and picture of the store’s façade printed on one side of the bag.
Detective Smarts and another man walked in just as she completed the sales transaction, and she directed the two men to the workroom at the rear of the store, recently rearranged to make room for a couch and worktable. I followed discreetly.
Alyx sat at her desk. Detective Smarts, wearing dress slacks, a button-down, long-sleeved shirt and no tie, introduced his partner whose name I missed. I didn’t miss his sharp creased slacks and crisp blue shirt. The officers pulled up two chairs and sat facing Alyx. I perched on the worktable behind them, keeping a cautious eye on the two men.
“I’ll come straight to the point, Ms. Hille. We’re investigating a homicide. Mrs. Burns was murdered.”
“What? How?”
“She was smothered.”
“Smothered? How do you know that?” Alyx asked incredulously.
The detective rubbed his forehead. “Ms. Hille, I’m not going to get technical here. Among other signs, the medical examiner found bruising around her mouth, and her eyes were bloodshot.”
Alyx shook her head. “Who would want to kill a sweet lady like Althea?”
“That’s what we aim to find out, ma’am,” said the sharp dresser as he unclipped a ballpoint pen from his clipboard, poised to take down her every word.
“I’ll be glad to help you in any way I can, but I’ve already told you all I know.”
Detective Smarts inhaled deeply. He rubbed his forehead again. “Yes, and by telling me again, you might remember something you didn’t remember before.”
“Okay, I understand. What do you want to know?”
Smarts asked all the questions; his partner took notes.
“How well did you know her?”
“I met her last spring when she came in the store. The slant-front desk in the window display drew her in; after that, she came in every month to make a payment, and often to browse or chat. Maggie and I had lunch with her about once a month, usually at the café next door.”
“Were you ever at her residence?”
“Friday, when George and I delivered her desk was the first time.”
“George, who?”
“George Lucas is the woodworker we use to restore antiques or create new items from things that had a previous life as something else. Do you need his address or phone number?”
“No, we can get that.”
“You said she saw the desk last spring. Why did it take so long for her to get it?”
“She said she didn’t have the money to pay for it and didn’t want to put it on a credit card, so we arranged monthly payments. She was a proud lady and wouldn’t take it home until it was paid for in full.”
He looked at his partner and at his notepad to make su
re he was keeping up with the notes and continued when he got a nod.
“According to our information, Mrs. Burns was a wealthy woman, meaning that she could have paid for the desk at anytime.”
“That may be true, and I don’t doubt it is. All I can tell you is what she told me.”
Detective Smarts stood up and his partner followed suit, hooking his pen back on the clipboard rather than putting it his shirt pocket, as most men would do.
They thanked her for her time and left.
Misty had been listening at the door, and heaved a big sigh of relief after I let her know that Smarts was investigating Althea’s murder and wasn’t after our humans.
“Cats are rather delicate creatures and they are subject to a lot of ailments, but I never heard of one who suffered from insomnia.”
––Joseph Wood Crutch
CHAPTER NINE: Althea’s Secret Life
Since Misty was the only one of us cats who’d seen the thief with and without his disguise, it made sense to post her at the front door, with Pooky nearby for reinforcement. The only napping allowed were catnaps, and that didn’t make anybody happy.
The well-dressed woman now standing at the counter ruined my first catnap of the day. I sensed an aura of suspense surrounding her and looked her over carefully.
Alyx asked her if she needed assistance.
“Yes, I’m looking for Alyx Hille.”
“I’m Alyx. How can I help you?”
I assumed the woman was there to see her about a decorating job––she wasn’t. She introduced herself as Carole Berth, Althea’s niece.
“It’s nice to meet you, Carole,” said Alyx. “I wish we’d met under different circumstances. I’m sorry about your aunt; she was a lovely lady and will be missed.”