by Paige Sleuth
She somehow made it through her evening waitressing shift at Jessie’s Diner. By the time she made it home, she was exhausted from engaging in so much small talk. Usually she enjoyed chatting with the restaurant patrons, but today her heart wasn’t in it.
Yet, despite being so weary, Kat soon discovered she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned, pausing occasionally to stroke Tom, who didn’t seem bothered by her restlessness. He merely adjusted positions whenever Kat started up with another thrashing bout.
No matter what she did, she couldn’t get comfortable. She couldn’t stop her mind from going back over every second of her visit to Helen’s. Occasionally she would attempt to mold their conversation into something more satisfying by tacking on a made-up ending, one where Helen handed over an address and phone number for Maybelle and broke down sobbing for Kat’s forgiveness.
Kat sighed, shaking the fantasy from her head for the hundredth time. Tom rolled over and pressed his back against her thigh. She rested her hand on his warm body, something inside her uncoiling. There really wasn’t anything as comforting as a cat.
She must have finally drifted off. When her doorbell jolted her awake, the morning sun was already shining through the window.
Wrapping a bathrobe around her pajamas and smoothing out her hair using her fingers, Kat padded to the front door. She peered through the peephole, stiffening when she spotted Mrs. Polanski’s face looming in front of her. She wasn’t in the mood to entertain Helen Trotter’s sister after Helen’s confession the day before.
Kat drew herself up and opened the door. “Hi, Mrs. Polanski. What are you doing here?”
“Jess gave me your address, and one of your neighbors let me into the building. I thought it would be better to talk to you in person than to call.” Mrs. Polanski smiled, but it was a more subdued version of the beaming grin that normally usurped her entire face. “Helen told me about your visit yesterday.”
Kat’s grip tightened around the doorknob. She didn’t know what to say to that.
Mrs. Polanski shifted her weight to her other foot. “May I come in?”
Kat considered telling her that she really needed to be alone right now, but relented when she saw the earnest look on Mrs. Polanski’s face. Nodding, she swung the door open and stepped aside.
Tom’s eyes lit up when he spotted their guest. He meowed a greeting, rushed over, and flopped onto the floor in front of them, holding his front legs above his head in order to expose his stomach.
Mrs. Polanski laughed as she reached down and scratched the big cat’s belly. “Well, aren’t you a friendly fella.”
“That’s Tom,” Kat told her, closing the door.
Kat couldn’t help but relax a little as she watched Tom basking in Mrs. Polanski’s attention. She could always trust Tom to cut the tension of an awkward situation.
After petting Tom for a minute, Mrs. Polanski straightened, her amused look fading into one of worry as her eyes drifted toward Kat. “I came to see how you were dealing with everything.”
Kat sat down on the sofa and twisted her hands in her lap. “As well as can be expected, I guess.”
Mrs. Polanski glanced at the empty couch across from Kat. “May I sit down?”
“Sure.”
Kat studied Mrs. Polanski as she settled into the sofa. Something in her expression spurred a tingling sensation in the back of Kat’s brain. She wasn’t sure why, but it reminded her of the look Mrs. Polanski had given Helen when the subject of PNW Financial had been brought up. Looking back, maybe the look didn’t reflect her belief in Maybelle’s guilt so much as her knowledge of Helen’s secret.
The possibility sent Kat’s mind reeling. Could it be that Mrs. Polanski had known about her sister’s crime all these years? The more Kat considered it, the more plausible it seemed. She could tell the two were close from the way they had their arms thrown around each other in that photograph, the pure joy reflected on their faces captured for the rest of eternity. And who better to hide your darkest secret than a trusted sibling?
Kat collapsed against the couch. Viewing Mrs. Polanski in such a shocking new light had drained every last ounce of strength from her body. “You knew, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
Kat was surprised by the quick admission. She had feared she would need to pry whatever Mrs. Polanski knew out of her. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Mrs. Polanski crossed her ankles. “It wasn’t my place.”
Kat processed that. “Did you help her?”
Mrs. Polanski covered her chest with one hand. “Heavens, no. Helen didn’t even want to tell me what she did at first, but I can put two and two together. I might not be a genius, but I know my sister like the back of my hand.”
“Did you know she let one of her police officer friends believe my mother was guilty?”
Mrs. Polanski’s eyes dimmed. “I did.”
Kat had to ungrit her teeth in order to respond. “And you didn’t say anything.”
“How could I? Helen is my own flesh and blood.” Mrs. Polanski sighed. “I always felt guilty about that, you know. Remember all those milkshakes I used to give you on the house?”
Kat’s jaw dropped open. Her lungs suddenly felt too small. “You gave those to me out of guilt?”
“Yes. I’m sorry to say it, but I did.”
Before Kat could reply, Matty came sprinting into the room. The rambunctious feline vaulted on top of the coffee table, sending the folder of newspaper clippings skittering to the floor. She flattened her ears against her skull and wiggled her rear end before leaping into the center of the pile.
Kat jumped off the sofa. “Matty!”
Matty froze, her huge green eyes rotating toward Kat as her tail cut through the air.
Mrs. Polanski leaned forward. “Are those the articles I gave you?”
“Yes.” Kat plucked one off the floor and smoothed it out.
“Did you read through them all?”
“I did.” Kat grabbed a few more articles, trying to collect what she could before Matty destroyed them all.
Tom wandered over to see what the commotion was about, his tail puffed up to the size of a feather duster. He sniffed at the edge of one of the pages before extending a tentative paw.
Matty, however, wasn’t nearly so cautious. She slapped at one of the clippings as Kat tried to stack it with the others. Kat had to laugh at the look of determination in the feline’s eyes, but she cut herself off mid-chuckle. Although she was upset enough with Mrs. Polanski to not care if the cats ruined her newspaper collection, a part of her also didn’t want Mrs. Polanski thinking she didn’t appreciate her willingness to help.
“Give that to me, Matty.” Kat tried to lift her paw, but Matty resisted, digging her claws into the newsprint.
Kat’s eyes traveled down the length of Matty’s leg to where she had her toes planted in the center of Kelly Watson’s obituary, the one Mrs. Polanski had circled.
Matty released the obituary in order to pounce on some of the other clippings, running around in circles as she bounced from article to article. She seemed to get a kick out of the crinkling sound created by her activity. Either that or she enjoyed shocking Tom as he watched her with rounded eyes.
Kat glanced at Mrs. Polanski as she set the obituary on top of her makeshift pile. “Did you know Kelly Watson?”
Mrs. Polanski shook her head. “No, I did not.”
“You were friends with her parents?” Kat guessed.
“No, I didn’t know them either.”
Kat frowned. She was about to ask why Mrs. Polanski had saved the obituary in that case when she felt her gaze being drawn back to the write-up.
Her brain tingled as she stared at the faded outline of the hand-drawn circle around the succinct summary of Kelly Watson’s short life. Her mother would have been about twenty-seven back in 1985, the same age as Kelly.
Kat gripped the newspaper clipping in both hands and sat back down on the couch, her head spinning. Was
it possible that her mother had stolen this woman’s identity? Stealing an existing identity would certainly be easier than establishing a fake social security number and everything else needed to live in the United States. She would only have to apply for a copy of the woman’s birth certificate, or have one forged, and use the dead woman’s information to obtain all the other documents she needed.
Kat looked up at Mrs. Polanski. Her mouth had gone dry, and she had to work to get her next question out. “Did you help my mother hide out?”
“You figured it out from the death announcement, didn’t you?” When Kat nodded, Mrs. Polanski leaned back, looking satisfied. “I knew you would. You always were a smart one.”
Kat didn’t know what to say to that. At the moment she didn’t feel very smart. She felt as if the joke was on her.
“It was easier than I thought it would be,” Mrs. Polanski said, fingering the edge of her shirt. “Turning Maybelle Harper into Kelly Watson, that is.”
Kat mustered up some saliva and swallowed. “Yeah?”
“Finding somebody willing to work fast to create the fake ID was the most difficult part. After that, I only had to lend her the money for an apartment and provide her with a good reference so Country Eats would hire her.”
Kat took a deep breath, trying to tamp down the mix of emotions coursing through her. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”
Mrs. Polanski spread her hands. “In front of Helen?”
Kat’s eyes widened. “She doesn’t know?”
Mrs. Polanski shook her head. “If she had been paying attention back then I’m sure she would have seen I was up to something. Helen knows me as well as I know her. But after the robbery she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts. So, everything I did for Maybelle stayed between her and me.”
Kat shook the newspaper in her hand, struggling to understand. “But you gave me all these articles, hoping I put everything together.”
Mrs. Polanski’s eyes softened. “You have a right to know about your mama. And I didn’t figure you would turn her in once you realized what name she was using. That would only jeopardize her freedom. Until Helen’s crime came to light, it wasn’t safe for Maybelle to reveal herself either.”
Kat absorbed that. She didn’t know for sure if what Mrs. Polanski was saying was true. She didn’t figure she could keep such a huge secret from Andrew, who in turn might be duty-bound to notify Chief Kenny.
Kat watched Matty and Tom playing with the newspaper clippings, needing a moment to corral her thoughts. She knew she should stop the cats before they made too much of a mess, but she felt paralyzed by what she’d just learned.
“So, when are you going to call her?” Mrs. Polanski asked.
Kat turned to face her. “I don’t have her number.”
Mrs. Polanski flapped her hand. “She’d be easy enough to locate with directory assistance.”
“She might not even live in Estacada anymore. And what if she’s married now, with a new family? What if she . . .” Kat trailed off, not wanting to ask out loud the question that still haunted her. What if she doesn’t want to hear from me?
“Well, you’re not going to get answers to any of those questions unless you pick up the phone, now are you?” Mrs. Polanski reached for Kat’s cell phone on the coffee table and held it out.
Kat stared at it, a flare of terror searing her chest. Now that she was so close to finding her mother, her insecurities had returned in full force.
Mrs. Polanski sighed. “She didn’t want to leave you, you know.”
Kat’s eyes snapped toward hers. “She didn’t?”
“No. She asked me if I thought she should take you with her.” Mrs. Polanski closed her eyes for a moment. “I said I couldn’t imagine leaving Jessie behind if I were in her situation, but I also wouldn’t want to expose my daughter to the type of life that comes with running from the law. Plus, she still had all that drug business she was trying to shake. She knew, no matter how much she loved you, that that wasn’t the life she wanted you to have.”
“So she opted to abandon me,” Kat said, hearing how dull her own voice sounded.
Mrs. Polanski shook her head. “She opted to let you go if that meant you would have a better life than the one she could give you.”
Tears burned behind Kat’s eyes, and she blinked them away. Somehow, she’d never considered that walking away might have been difficult for her mother. It had never occurred to her that Maybelle had only left her because she loved Kat so much she was willing to put her own needs aside for those of her child.
Mrs. Polanski thrust the phone closer. “Here. Call directory assistance. It’s past time that your mama stopped running, and you should be the one to tell her she no longer has to hide.”
Kat stared at Mrs. Polanski’s outstretched hand for a moment longer. Then she took a deep breath, accepted the phone, and dialed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“So, you finally got to talk to her, huh?” Andrew asked, taking Kat’s hand as they walked through the parking lot toward the police station.
Kat smiled. “I did. The conversation didn’t go at all like I expected, but it was good.”
He looked at her, his eyes warm. “Yeah?”
“I always figured we’d either have this big, tearful heart-to-heart or she’d tell me she never wanted to hear from me again.” Kat paused, then said, “This wasn’t like either scenario.”
In fact, after Kat had pushed past her initial nervousness, talking to her mother for the first time in three decades almost felt like chatting with a customer at Jessie’s Diner. There were no huge displays of emotion from either party, but just hearing that twinge of excitement in her mother’s voice when Kat had revealed who she was had been enough.
“She wants to meet me,” Kat said.
“She’d be a fool not to,” Andrew replied.
She stopped walking and turned to face him. “I’m not sure I’m ready.”
He took her other hand, not saying anything.
She looked off in the distance, her heart hammering in her chest. She wasn’t sure how to explain her hesitation. She had yearned so badly for a reunion a week ago, back before she had any method of contacting her mother. Now that they’d actually spoken, she was more unsure than ever.
“I mean, I want to meet her,” Kat said, her eyes drifting back to Andrew. “I just need some time to get used to the idea before we actually go through with it.”
Andrew squeezed her fingers. “That’s your right.”
He let go of one of her hands, but maintained his grip on the other as they started walking again. Kat looked up at the sky, watching as two clouds glided past each other. When they separated, the sun appeared, casting its warm rays down upon them.
Kat turned back to Andrew. “We agreed to keep the lines of communication open. We’re going to call each other every week or so, just to catch up. Maybe after we’ve talked for a while I’ll feel more comfortable with the idea of meeting her in person.”
“Whatever you do, I’ll support you.”
Her heart warmed. “I know, and I’m so grateful you feel that way.”
Andrew released her hand to open the door to the police station. “After you.”
Kat stepped inside, her stomach executing a nervous flip as they headed toward Chief Kenny’s office. She wasn’t sure how he would react to the information she had to share.
But Chief Kenny let her talk freely as she told him about Helen Trotter’s confession, interrupting only when he needed clarification on certain points. And although Andrew had accompanied her into the police chief’s office, he merely sat quietly in one corner, observing but not participating.
Kat omitted any mention of Mrs. Polanski and what she’d done to help Maybelle hide from the law. She didn’t think the police chief would look very favorably on her mother’s decision to take on another woman’s identity, even given the circumstances.
Plus, now that the shock of what she’d learned had worn off, Kat felt
oddly grateful to Mrs. Polanski for helping her mother out all those years ago. Clearly turning Helen in would have helped Maybelle even more, but Kat could understand—begrudgingly—why that hadn’t been an option.
Kat took a deep breath when she reached the end of her story. “So, that’s it. Now that you know my mother is innocent, you can remove her from your wanted list, right?”
Chief Kenny folded his bulky arms on the desk. If he was surprised by Helen’s guilt, his face didn’t reflect it. “I still want to see her,” he said.
Kat’s heart lurched. “Why? Helen’s confession is enough to prove my mother had nothing to do with that robbery, right?”
“You betcha,” Chief Kenny said, nodding. His head stilled, and his face fell a little. “I wanna apologize for suspecting her all these years.”
Kat stared at him for a moment. As uncomfortable as the police chief had made her at the end of their first meeting, now she felt something bordering on warmth. She knew it took a lot of courage for someone in his position to admit to being wrong.
She swallowed. “If she ever comes back to Cherry Hills, I’ll be sure to let her know.”
Chief Kenny shook his head. “When she comes back, Kat, even if it’s just for a short visit, tell her she’ll be welcome with open arms.”
Kat smiled. “I’ll do that.”
She was still smiling when she walked out of the police station.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Thank you for visiting Cherry Hills, home of Kat, Matty, and Tom! If you enjoyed their story, please consider leaving a book review on Amazon. Also join my readers’ group so you’ll be one of the first to know when their next adventure is published.
Please keep reading for an excerpt from Book Two of the Cozy Cat Caper Mystery series, Framed in Cherry Hills. Thank you!
FRAMED IN CHERRY HILLS