1 A Paw-sible Theory

by Anna Kern

  “What was he depressed about?”

  “His first and long-time girlfriend broke off with him and he had a hard time dealing with it. He’s off meds now. He just took them for a short time.”

  Detective Smarts was going over his notes and in the lull, a uniformed police officer carrying a large, black, case, walked in and went straight to the kitchen. Maggie wanted to know who the officer was and what he was carrying.

  “That’s our Crime Scene Investigation Unit of one––Mel and his basic crime scene equipment. The routine is always the same; walk one path through the crime scene to identify items that relate to the crime, taking care not to disturb evidence. He’ll photograph and videotape the crime scene and send the evidence to the Department of Law Enforcement Laboratories. As you can imagine, they’re very busy but they have a new computer system, so I’m confident we’ll get fast results.”

  “Will that yellow tape come down when he’s finished?”

  “Depends on what he finds. More than likely, it will be down tomorrow.”

  She looked at her watch. “I’d really like to get to the hospital. Will it be much longer before I can go?”

  “We still need to take your fingerprints, but if you prefer, you can come to the station to do it.”

  “How much longer before you can do it here?”

  “Maybe another half hour or so.”

  “Since Alyx has Ethan with her and isn’t alone, I guess I’ll wait and get it over with.”

  Detective Smarts put away his pen, indicating he was through with her, and started to head to the kitchen to confer with his partner who came towards him, the two stopping to confer in the dining room. I could hear them easily from my post under the big maple table.

  “Boomer, I have a gut feeling about this one … cut-and-dry. Did you notice the expensive clothes the son wearing, the watch on his wrist, the car he drives? See what you can get from the neighbors.”

  I couldn’t help expressing my feelings with a low growl as Smarts continued on through the dining room. He heard me, stopped, and glared. Intimidated, Misty looked away but I boldly glared back at the detective, my tail vigorously lashing the air. What could he do? Arrest me? How dare he call it a cut-and-dry case; the evidence wasn’t all in yet and he was ready to wrap it up! I didn’t like the man and the feeling was obviously mutual.

  “Most cats, when they are out want to be in and vice versa, and often simultaneously.”

  ––Louis J. Camuti

  CHAPTER FIVE: Unscheduled Hospital Visit

  Citrus County Hospital was only two miles from Alyx’s house. I could have walked the distance, but decided it would be quicker if I got a ride. When the ambulance took Alyx away, I thought I might never see her again; I wanted to make sure she was all right. I didn’t think it would be a problem as I’d hitched rides before. I figured Maggie was preoccupied with other things and wouldn’t notice me slip out the door behind her, slide in the back seat when she opened the car door, and flatten myself to the floor.

  The short ride was tolerable and I made my presence known when she turned off the engine, making her jump when I landed in the passenger seat.

  “Oh, Murfy … as if I don’t have enough to worry about. What am I supposed to do with you now?”

  She sounded exhausted rather than mad, and shook her head in resignation when I responded with a short mwa-mwa. She looked around, emptied the large tote bag she used for her fabric samples and I cooperated––allowing her to stuff me in the bag. What else could I do? It was my idea, after all. I did complain when she found a large piece of fabric in the trunk and tucked it over my head. I thought that was completely unnecessary. How was I supposed to see what was going on?

  I pawed some of the fabric off to the side to get my bearings. As we entered the hospital, I could see Ethan on the phone, pacing up and down the hall outside of the ER. When Maggie reached him, he said he’d called the family and let them know what had happened. Some uncertainty, some shyness crept into his voice when he said that he’d also called his father.

  Maggie took him by the arm and walked him to two empty seats in the waiting area just around the corner. Speaking in clipped sentences, she filled him in on what had happened after he left.

  I lifted my head slightly for a peek around the room; Ethan saw my ears and his eyes opened wide.

  “That’s not …”

  “None other,” she answered before he finished the sentence.

  She rearranged the fabric over my head. Someone with coffee walked by and Maggie handed the tote bag to Ethan, issuing a warning before she went in search of the coffee machine.

  “You better stay put or you’re going home, Murfy.”

  Ethan, who knew me better, said, “Oh, yeah, that will keep him in line.”

  Three cups of coffee later, Maggie saw one of her store employees coming down the hall. She pointed the woman out to Ethan and rose to meet her at a distance. Curiosity got the best of me, my ears swiveled for the best reception, and I listened closely.

  “Charvette, what are you doing here? Are you here to see someone?”

  “I just came to see about Alyx.”

  “How did you know she was here?”

  “I have a police scanner I sometimes listen to. I was listening this morning when I heard the 911 call go out. I knew it was Alyx’s address. What happened? Is she okay?”

  She got a short version of what happened. “We don’t know how Alyx is. We’re waiting to hear.”

  “Would you like me to stay and keep you company?”

  “Listen, I appreciate the thought and I’m sure Alyx would also, but I don’t think Ethan would feel comfortable with other people here. I’ll come to the store later to talk to you and Bernice and make some plans for our schedules. By then, I’ll know more about Alyx’s condition.”

  A man in a white coat introduced himself to Ethan as the doctor on duty, and Ethan placed the tote on the floor. Maggie excused herself and Charvette, appearing to look for something in her purse, slowly walked away.

  “I’m Dr. Casey, and I’m happy to report your mother’s vital signs are stable, and she’s out of danger from the head wound. We ran some diagnostic tests on her and neither the CAT scan nor the MRI shows any brain damage. We now have her hooked up to an EEG to report her brain activity and, at this point, the prognosis is good. She could regain full consciousness at any time or she may do it in stages with no permanent damage, and it goes without saying, the sooner the better.”

  Happy to hear she was going to be all right, I purred maybe a little too loudly and Maggie nudged the bag with her toe.

  “Any questions?”

  “I’m sorry, Doctor Casey,” said Ethan, “I’ve heard the terms before but I’m not sure I really know what those tests are. Can you give us a little more detail?”

  “Sure. We do a wide variety of testing to help determine if brain injury may have occurred. There are two types of neurological tests: those that examine the structure of the brain, and those that examine the function of the brain. The CAT scan and MRI look at the structure of the brain. The EEG, electroencephalogram, examines the function of the brain. The CAT scan is superior at detecting fresh blood in and around the brain, and we’ll repeat that one again, just to be sure. Does that clarify it?”

  “Yeah, thanks,” said, Ethan.” Can we see her now?”

  “Yes, of course you can. Stay as long as you want and don’t worry about leaving, we will certainly call you if there is any change.”

  Maggie and Ethan went into Alyx’s room in the Intensive Care Unit and sat quietly side-by-side, alert to the beeps and blips of the monitors. Reassured that Alyx was going to be all right, I didn’t see any reason to stay. Imprisoned in the tote bag as I was, I couldn’t see anything anyway. Besides, I was hungry and needed to use the litter box. Next time, I’d go it alone, but for the present, a soft meow was enough of a reminder.

  “Listen,” said Maggie. “I have to get this cat out of here before we ge
t thrown out and barred from returning. I know you have to go to the police station sometime today, so I think it will work out for both of us if I leave and take care of a few things, and when I get back, I’ll give you a ride home to pick-up your car so you can go talk to Detective Smarts. How does that sound?”

  “Alright, I guess.”

  I popped my head out of the bag, took a last look back before leaving the room, and saw Ethan pull up a chair next to the bed, take Alyx’s hand, and start talking to her.

  “There are many intelligent species in the universe. They are all owned by cats.”

  ––Anonymous

  CHAPTER SIX: Too Much Said

  Maggie put the phone on speaker while she refilled our empty food and water bowls.

  “Ethan, it’s almost seven o’clock, where are you?”

  He said he was still at the police station but would be leaving shortly and asked if there was any change in Alyx’s condition.

  “No, Ethan; she was the same when I left her,” Maggie answered in a matter-of-fact way. The conversation ended; she slipped the phone in her purse; and picked up the magazine she had brought along and left the room.

  Finished with dinner, I padded to my favorite chair for a nap and found it occupied; Maggie was sitting in it, her head bowed almost as if praying, though she had never struck me as the religious type.

  She lifted her head when I landed on the arm of the chair. “She has to wake up, Murfy. I can’t handle it all. Ethan might be in trouble. Smarts asked too many questions about him, and I may have given him too much information.” She shook her head as if trying to shake the thought out.

  Tired from all the activity, I ambled to my favorite hiding spot under Alyx’s bed and tried to sort out what happened as best I could. I woke up when I heard Ethan’s voice, surprised that I had actually fallen asleep. Apparently, all that thinking had exhausted me, and I realized that I didn’t have as much control over my natural make-up as I thought I did.

  I scampered to the living room so as not to miss anything and in case I did, Misty was already there.

  “What happened at the police station? Why did it take so long to give a statement and get fingerprinted?” Maggie asked Ethan.

  “To begin with, I waited for over an hour for Detective Smarts to show up and when he finally did, we were constantly interrupted by some other cop or ringing phone.” Ethan sat forward a little. “He said they interviewed the neighbors as to what they saw or heard. And they checked the house and pot fragments for finger prints.”

  Ethan hesitated a moment as if the thought had just occurred to him, and panic crept in his voice. “You know, they were asking me questions like I might have had something to do with it.”

  Maggie appeared to dismiss the idea. “That’s absurd. You? Hurt your mother?”

  “It’s not that ridiculous; they interviewed me for two hours and kept asking me the same questions over and over. They took my fingerprints and Smarts commented on the fact that there was no evidence of a break-in; whoever it was got in with a key or someone let them in. Since I made the pot used to hit her, my fingerprints are all over it and the rest of the house. Add to that, nothing was taken, nothing was disturbed.”

  “How do you know it’s one of your pots?”

  “I recognized the fragments. You told me at the hospital that they fingerprinted you too. Did Smarts say why?”

  “He said it was because we were the ones who found her, whatever that means.”

  Ethan walked to the window and looked out. A puzzled look wrinkled his brow when he turned to face Maggie.

  “He asked me about my bout with depression. He wouldn’t tell me how he knew, but I guessed it must have been you. The neighbors don’t know. Why did you tell him?”

  “It just came out. He asked if you and your mother did any fighting and one thing led to another. I’m sorry, Ethan. I shouldn’t have said anything but even if I hadn’t, they would have found out somehow.”

  “I thought medical records were confidential. I guess it doesn’t matter now, but I don’t think they would have. And if that wasn’t bad enough, they checked my credit and found out I’m in over my head.”

  “I don’t know anything about that. Does your mother know?”

  He shrugged. “I think she might have an idea. That’s what she wanted to talk to me about this morning.”

  He slowly paced back to his seat. “I don’t get it. What do you think happened, Maggie? Do you have any idea who might have wanted to hurt Mom?”

  “I don’t know; your mom never even hinted at any problems with anyone, and I certainly never saw a problem with any of the people we know.”

  “What about that confrontation with Dan Ramsey at the Downtown Merchants Association meeting a couple of months ago?”

  “Yes, there’s that, but I really don’t think he had murder on his mind. Did you mention it to Detective Smarts?”

  “No, I forgot. Did you?”

  She shook her head. “I forgot, too.”

  “That Detective Smarts kept referring to the fact that there was no evidence of a break-in, no evidence of a struggle. He asked me if I knew of anyone she might have given a key to the house.”

  She looked down at her shoes. When she didn’t say anything, he continued, “I thought Mom gave you a key when she and Charvette went to that antique show in Georgia.”

  Still, no comment from Maggie.

  “I guess you gave it back, so that just leaves me with a key to the house.”

  She looked away. “That’s to be expected; you’re her son, and you should have a key to the house.”

  I wondered why Maggie acted so strange when Ethan asked her about the key. It was no big deal if she didn’t give the key back, so why?

  When Ethan told Maggie he had decided it would be best if he stayed at the house so he could take care of us, and to make the hospital trips easier, she looked at him in alarm.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea? We don’t know what happened here, Ethan. What if whoever did that to your mom comes back?” She reached for his hand. “Ethan, I don’t feel right about you staying here.”

  He pulled his hand back and sank to the floor, flat on his back. I signaled Misty and we crept over closer to Ethan.

  “Don’t worry,” he said; “I’ll be okay. Besides, I have the cats to protect me.” We meowed in agreement, bringing a smile to the humans’ faces.

  “See? They agree,” he said.

  Maggie didn’t push it any further. “Okay, I can see you’ve made up your mind.”

  Ethan looked exhausted, as if the day’s events had hit him all at once.

  “This has been a very long day,” Maggie said. “Why don’t you go lie down while I make something to eat?”

  Ethan didn’t argue. Maggie waited for him to close the bedroom door, checked her phone, and walked out to the lanai to make a call. I slipped thru the door before she closed it and took cover next to the ornamental tree in the corner, not exactly hidden but not in full view either. Maggie conveniently sat at the bistro table next to the tree, and I edged closer so I could hear both sides of the conversation.

  “Hi, George; it’s Maggie. I’m just calling to thank you for the wonderful dinner last night. I had no idea you were such a good cook.”

  The name George didn’t ring a bell at first, and then I remembered. George Lucas was Alyx’s friend, the man who turned “trash into cash,” so to speak.

  “It was my pleasure, Maggie,” I could hear his voice respond weakly through the phone. “I hope we can do it again, soon.”

  “I’d like that very much but something awful has happened and I’m afraid I may not have time to see you.”

  It sounded like an excuse but George didn’t seem to take it that way.

  “What happened, Maggie?”

  Maggie told him the whole story. She concluded with, “I’m at Alyx’s house now, and I convinced Ethan to take a nap. I swear, George, that boy has a stubborn streak in him that makes i
t hard to deal with him sometimes.”

  “What do you want him to do that he doesn’t want to do?”

  “He wants to stay at his mother’s house and there’s no changing his mind.”

  “As I’m sure you know, he was given responsibility at a young age. He thinks he knows best concerning himself.”

  “I know. Alyx told me that when she had to go back to work, the only job she could find was working as a clerk with the Police Department where they lived at the time. She had to be at work at seven in the morning. To be sure Ethan made it to school, and on time, she woke him up at six, made sure he was dressed, had breakfast and was ready to leave for school an hour after she left. Ethan never missed a day, unless he was sick, in which case, she had to depend on a kind neighbor to look in on him because she risked being fired if she took too much time off.”

  “At least he had breakfast,” said George. “I read an article in The Beachside Journal that thousands of kids go to school without breakfast and just recently, the school board instituted a policy of free breakfasts for all students––the philosophy being that you can’t learn on an empty stomach. It sounds like a good idea; only time will tell if it makes any difference.”

  “I don’t have kids so I can’t speak from experience, but it seems to me that experts are always looking for an explanation as to why kids don’t do well in school. The educators blame the parents who in turn blame the teachers, and no one blames the student on whom rest the ultimate decision to learn.”

  “I didn’t mean to change the subject, so all that aside, don’t worry about Ethan; he was brought up well, and he really can take care of himself.”

  “I hope you’re right, George. I don’t want Alyx to get mad at me any more than she is already.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I snuggled my head and ears a bit closer so I could hear the following conversation.

  “Remember last night I told you that a real estate agent contacted me last week about selling our building?”

  “Yes, you said Rupert approached you, with a tempting offer.”