Shot in Cherry Hills

by Paige Sleuth

Kat felt an ache in her heart, the truth of Stacey’s words ringing in her ears.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Sorry I had to cancel yesterday,” Andrew said, stepping into Kat’s apartment.

  Kat shut the door behind him. “It’s okay. You couldn’t have predicted you’d end up with a new case.”

  Tom came running over to the door, his tail stuck straight up in the air. He stopped in front of Andrew and meowed, presumably to berate his favorite belly-rubber for not visiting as planned the day before.

  Andrew grinned, his dimples stealing Kat’s breath away. Much to her chagrin, the sight of him seemed to leave her breathless with more and more regularity. She figured thirty-two was old enough not to react so viscerally to a man, but Andrew was proving to be the exception.

  “Hey, buddy,” Andrew said, squatting down to pet Tom.

  The big brown-and-black cat promptly flopped over and stretched his front paws above his head as far as they could go.

  Kat smiled. At least she wasn’t the only one liable to make a fool out of herself in Andrew’s presence.

  Matty, who was typically cool and aloof around everyone, jumped off the couch and trotted over to them. The yellow-and-brown tortoiseshell stood just out of reach, her pride preventing her from behaving as shamelessly as Tom.

  Andrew glanced at Kat. “What’s up with her? She usually ignores me.”

  Kat leaned over and stroked Matty’s back. “Tux stayed over last night so I had the bedroom off-limits. She’s been acting a little insecure ever since. She might have thought I’d brought him home to replace her.”

  Andrew snorted. “She must not know you wouldn’t give her up if somebody offered you the world and a billion dollars.”

  Kat picked up Matty and hugged her. “You’ve got that right.”

  Andrew relocated to the couch. When he patted his thigh, Tom vaulted into his lap. The feline circled around once before draping himself across Andrew’s legs.

  Kat carried Matty over and sat down next to them. Matty curled up on her lap, and she set a protective hand on the little animal’s body, trying to communicate that she had nothing to fear. Matty replied by starting up a strong, steady purr.

  “So, what do you want to do tonight?” Andrew asked Kat.

  She shrugged. “I would suggest catching a movie, but I’m afraid you’ll get called back to work.”

  Andrew’s smile stretched wider. “Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.”

  “How can you be sure? Eric’s killer is still out there.” She shivered at the thought.

  “Not for long.”

  “How do you know that?” Kat’s gaze snapped to Andrew’s, the implications of his words settling in. “You know who did it?”

  He lifted one shoulder, then refocused on petting Tom. Tom pulled his front paws closer so he could knead Andrew’s legs. Matty watched them, her eyelids slipping closed. The rhythm of Tom’s claws extending and contracting seemed to put her to sleep.

  Kat, on the other hand, was too wired to relax now. “Did you make an arrest?” she prompted Andrew.

  Andrew massaged Tom’s ears. “Not yet. We’re waiting for a couple test results to come back to make sure the charges stick.”

  “Charges?” Kat’s skin tingled. “So you do know who did it.”

  “We have an idea.”

  Kat sat up, his dismissive reply fueling her curiosity. “So, who was it?”

  Andrew sighed, his smile fading. Matty bit Kat’s hand. Either she was annoyed at having her bed disturbed, or she was siding with Andrew in the hopes of getting her ears rubbed too.

  “Well?” Kat said, ignoring Matty. “Who shot Eric?”

  “You know I can’t tell you that.”

  She stared at him. “Andrew, you can’t brag about an arrest in the works then refuse to say who’s guilty.”

  “First of all, I wasn’t bragging. And second of all, I can’t share details about an open case with you.”

  “Was it George, the old man across the street?” she asked.

  Andrew made a face. “I already told you I can’t answer that.”

  “It was Walter Lowry then, wasn’t it?”

  Andrew stared pointedly at her down the bridge of his nose.

  She tilted her chin up. “Was it Eric’s girlfriend?”

  Andrew arched one eyebrow. “Girlfriend?”

  “Walter mentioned seeing a woman sneaking over to Eric’s house.”

  “Yesterday morning?”

  She shook her head. “A few days ago.”

  Andrew scrutinized her, his laser-like focus making her feel as if he could see inside her soul. She started to fidget, but Matty put a stop to that by digging her claws into her knee.

  “Kat,” Andrew finally said, his voice weary, “don’t tell me you’re involving yourself in this case.”

  She spread her hands. “I can’t help it if people track me down at Jessie’s and tell me stuff.”

  Andrew’s lips thinned, his skepticism written all over his face. She remembered how eager she’d been to hear Walter’s observation and felt a pinprick of guilt. Still, she refused to defend herself.

  Besides, if Andrew hadn’t known about Eric’s girlfriend, she couldn’t be the police’s primary suspect.

  Her mind churned through the other possibilities. “I know it wasn’t Noreen,” she said.

  “Eric’s girlfriend?”

  “No, his killer.”

  Andrew groaned.

  “She was with me when the gunshot went off,” Kat explained.

  “Kat—”

  “Is it Vern Whitfield?”

  A muscle in Andrew’s jaw spasmed.

  “It is Vern,” she said, adrenaline pumping through her arteries. “That was his gun in Eric’s house?”

  Andrew grimaced, seeming to realize he wouldn’t be able to backtrack from this one. “Maybe.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes. And I’m guessing you didn’t find anybody else’s fingerprints on it.”

  Andrew blinked. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you think he did it.” Kat slid her hand down Matty’s fur. “But why would he leave his gun like that?”

  Andrew didn’t say anything, his lips now clamped firmly together.

  “Most likely he didn’t mean to,” Kat said, answering her own question. “He probably panicked and dropped it.”

  “Kat.”

  “What?” She batted her eyelashes at him. “I’m just thinking out loud.”

  “Well, can’t you think about something else?”

  “The real question is, what was his motive?” She thought back to the conversation in Noreen’s living room, something George had said returning to her. “Eric didn’t appreciate all the noise from Vern’s home improvement projects. Do you think he said something to set Vern off?”

  Andrew crossed his ankles, jarring Tom into lifting his head. “So, what movie did you have in mind?”

  She shrugged, her mind still in overdrive. “Whatever.”

  Andrew shifted to face her better. The disturbance was enough for Tom to jump down and wander over to the unoccupied couch.

  “Kat,” Andrew said, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “you’re not going to obsess about this case, are you?”

  She looked at him, trying to ignore how good his fingers felt against her face. “Who says I’m obsessed?”

  He scoffed. “Are you listening to yourself?”

  “Yes, but I’m hardly obsessed. I’m just . . . concerned is all.”

  Andrew pulled his hands into his lap, his eyes narrowing. “This is official police business, and you need to stay out of it.”

  “I am out of it.”

  “You sure are talking about it an awful lot.”

  “I’m just curious. After all, I did find Eric, and I fostered his cat.”

  “For one night,” Andrew interjected.

  “Even so. We bonded. How can I not be concerned on poor Tux’s behalf?”

  And
rew worked his jaw. When he stopped, his eyes were hard. “You know what? I think I’ll skip the movie tonight.”

  His words sucked all the air from Kat’s lungs. “What? Why?”

  He stood up. “I’m not really in the mood.”

  She jerked forward, dumping Matty onto the floor. Matty stood there a moment to get her bearings, then stalked over to join Tom.

  Kat’s stomach clenched, not from the nasty look Matty flashed her but the one Andrew had on his face. “Why don’t you want to stay? Are you mad at me?”

  He raked one hand through his hair. “I’m not mad, Kat.” There was a note of resignation in his voice that hadn’t been there before.

  She tried to catch his eye, but he wouldn’t look at her. She wanted to smack herself. Why couldn’t she have stuck to mundane topics like the weather? Why did she have to go bringing up Eric’s murder?

  Andrew stepped around her and headed for the door.

  Kat grabbed his arm. “Don’t leave. I’m sorry. I won’t talk about Eric anymore.”

  Andrew didn’t say anything, but she took it as a good sign that he stopped walking and wasn’t shaking her off.

  “Please don’t be mad,” she said, a hollow feeling settling in her chest.

  He sighed. “I’m not. I’m just not up for going out. I wouldn’t be good company.”

  She squeezed his arm. “Then we’ll hang out here.”

  He looked at her. Something in her stomach stirred as she stared into those mesmerizing eyes of his.

  “You realize I worry when you put yourself in danger,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

  The pain in his eyes felt like a dagger to her heart. “I’m not in danger.”

  “I care about you, you know.”

  She held her breath, waiting to see if he would go on. The way he was searching her face, she could see him debating over whether to say more. They had only been dating for a short time and had yet to exchange declarations of love, but she had the sense that that was exactly what he was thinking of doing right now. The anticipation set every nerve ending in her body on fire.

  Andrew cleared his throat, his eyes darting toward the clock. “Anyway, I should get going.”

  Kat dropped her hands to her sides, her palms growing cold as they fell away from his arm. “Okay.”

  He smiled, but the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’ll do the movie some other night, okay?”

  She swallowed. “Okay.”

  He planted a quick kiss on her forehead and headed for the door. “I’ll call you later.”

  Kat frowned. She wasn’t used to him being so brusque. “Okay.”

  She watched as he let himself out. The click of the door latch sliding into place felt like a reprimand.

  She wasn’t quite sure what had just happened, but she didn’t think she liked it.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kat didn’t sleep well that night. Andrew’s brush-off, Eric Halstead’s murder, and Vern Whitfield’s gun plagued her thoughts. When she did finally drift off, it was only to be awoken ninety minutes later by a hungry cat sitting on her chest.

  She fed Matty and Tom, then flopped onto the couch. She fingered the cushion Andrew had been sitting on just the night before. Every cell in her body felt cold, and she prayed she hadn’t messed things up too badly between them.

  Her thoughts turned to Vern. The more she tried to imagine him killing Eric, the more doubts she had. She wasn’t sure why. She barely knew him. But if Vern had shot his neighbor, she was convinced it had to be over more than a few comments about his power tools.

  She rested her head against the back of the couch, wishing she could accept that he had been the one to pull the trigger. Why was it so difficult for her to believe in his guilt?

  Because yesterday when they’d brought Tux by he hadn’t seemed anxious at all, she thought, answering her own question. If he’d left his gun at the scene, wouldn’t he act a little more concerned about the police tracing it back to him? Instead, he’d behaved like a man who didn’t even know his gun was missing.

  For another thing, he’d agreed to take in Tux. She knew that didn’t necessarily mean anything, but if he’d shot Eric wouldn’t he have some reaction to his wife adopting the cat of the man he’d killed? Sure, he’d grumbled a bit and pretended he hadn’t had any say in the matter, but Kat got the impression that was mostly for show.

  She sighed. She knew it was flimsy justification. Andrew would never understand if she tried to explain it to him. More likely, he’d just berate her for obsessing over a police matter.

  Assuming he was even talking to her at the moment.

  Unease over how they’d left things washed over her. She wondered if Andrew planned to follow up on the woman Walter Lowry had seen sneaking over to Eric’s. It didn’t seem as if anyone knew who she was or surely someone besides her would have already mentioned it to Andrew. And if the mystery woman really had been the one to kill Eric, Kat somehow doubted she’d be making another appearance anytime soon.

  Matty padded over. She sat down on the floor and peered up at Kat while she licked her lips.

  Kat reached over and rubbed her behind the ears. “Is this case bugging you as much as it is me?”

  Matty closed her eyes, pressed the top of her head into Kat’s palm, and started purring.

  “Apparently not,” Kat muttered.

  She let her mind wander to Stacey Whitfield. Could Stacey have been Eric’s mystery woman? Walter had said he’d seen the girlfriend sneaking over from that direction. Plus, she would have had easy access to Vern’s gun.

  Kat’s heart started beating faster. She recalled how wary Stacey had been when she’d run into her after the shooting. At the time Kat had attributed her reaction to seeing a stranger wandering around her neighbor’s backyard, but what if she was really worried that Kat had seen what she’d done? What if she’d only told Imogene she thought Kat had killed Eric to deflect suspicion from herself?

  Kat conjured up a mental picture of Stacey from that morning. She’d assumed Stacey had been outside gardening, but what if she were wrong? What if Stacey had only dressed the part so anyone who saw her would think she’d been gardening?

  Stacey’s gardening gloves flashed through Kat’s head, sending a cold sweat breaking out over her body. Andrew had hinted that the police only found Vern’s fingerprints on the gun. If Stacey had been wearing gloves when she’d pulled the trigger, that would make sense. Maybe she’d planned to set Vern up all along. Then after she eliminated both the boyfriend and the husband, she would be free to start her life anew.

  Matty jumped on Kat’s lap and stared at her. Kat absently ran her hand down the tortoiseshell’s back, her brain churning.

  One thing that kept nagging at her was Stacey’s motive to adopt Tux. If she and Eric had been involved in a failed romance, wouldn’t having Tux around just serve as a reminder of how poorly things had ended? Or had she developed a bond with the cat during her visits next door? Maybe she’d merely felt responsible for him after killing his owner.

  Unless she’d only taken him in because she knew Tux had seen what she’d done and could potentially implicate her.

  The idea caused Kat to freeze. She already suspected the reason the little cat had been running toward the woods was because the gunshot had startled him. Had he seen Stacey pull the trigger? Was that why he’d protested so much about being taken to the Whitfields’ yesterday? Kat had assumed he’d been distressed about being inside the carrier, but maybe on some level he’d known where they were headed.

  Kat scrambled off the couch, knocking Matty from her lap. Matty glared at her, her nose twitching.

  “Matty, I think I just figured out who killed Eric.” Kat’s throat felt too tight, and her words came out strangled.

  Matty licked her paw and rubbed it against her face. Between strokes, she glanced up to make sure Kat was watching.

  Kat rolled her eyes. “You did not get that dirty just from touching the carpet.”


  Matty swished her tail as if to disagree.

  “Okay, I admit it. I need to vacuum. Happy now?”

  Matty bobbed her head up and down, her tongue fully extended as she cleaned what she could reach of her chest.

  Kat threw her hands up. “Fine, I’ll clean the whole apartment once this case is solved. But right now I have something important to do.”

  Her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her temple, Kat raced down the hallway to change out of her pajamas. She had to hurry, before Stacey eliminated the only eyewitness to Eric’s murder once and for all.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “Kat, what are you doing here?”

  Kat mustered up a smile, hoping Stacey couldn’t see her pulse beating in her throat. She’d raced over to the Whitfields’ so quickly she hadn’t had time to think about what she would say when she got here.

  “I, uh, I came to do a wellness check on Tux,” she improvised.

  “A wellness check?” Stacey said.

  Kat nodded hard enough to pull a neck muscle. “It’s standard procedure when an animal is adopted from 4F. We have to make sure everybody’s adjusting properly.”

  “Oh.”

  Kat took a step forward, her shoe now wedged in the doorway in case Stacey tried to shut her out. “May I come in?”

  Stacey shrugged and stepped aside.

  Kat did her best not to run over the threshold. She had to act normal or Stacey might suspect she knew something and try to kill her too.

  The possibility made her shudder.

  “Are you cold?”

  Kat whipped around. “What?”

  “You shivered like you were cold.”

  Stacey shut the door, the sound of the latch sliding into place exploding inside Kat’s head like a gunshot. She had to lean against the wall for support.

  Stacey regarded her with a slight frown. “Are you feeling okay?”

  Kat drew in a deep breath. “I’m fine. I just . . . I thought I saw a spider, that’s all.”

  “A spider?” Stacey squeaked. Her eyes grew huge as they darted around the room. “Where?”

  Kat waved her hand in no particular direction. “Over there somewhere. I wouldn’t worry about it though. He scurried off. He’s probably already found a crack in the window and slipped outside by now.”