Six Cats a Slayin' Page 3

  “So, I got to thinking about our neighbors, and you’re the one who’s closest in age to me, so I decided I’d ask you what you’re going to do about it. Are you going? And is Helen Louise going with you? Because if Helen Louise is going, I can probably talk Tammy into it because she loves Helen Louise’s place and is always going in there and buying cakes and pastries to bring home. It’s a wonder I can fit through the door, I eat so much of that stuff.”

  I seized my chance when he paused. “I am going, and I imagine Helen Louise will go with me, though I haven’t asked her about it yet. I’m sure enough of the neighborhood will be there, for curiosity’s sake, if nothing else, so no one person will have to spend much time talking to Gerry Albritton. That should make Tammy feel better.” I didn’t know Tammy well. Milton had met and married her when he went to pharmacy school in Jackson, and they didn’t move back to Athena until Jackie and I had moved to Texas. In the years since I had come home to Athena, I saw her occasionally in the store, but she hadn’t been particularly friendly. A cold fish, in my opinion, not exactly a woman that I would have pictured the gregarious Milton marrying. He seemed devoted to her, though.

  “Well, maybe so.” Milton didn’t sound all that sure. “You know what Tammy’s like, she thinks every woman I talk to is trying to lure me away from her, and I keep telling her, I don’t have time for that stuff, I have a business to run, and besides, I’ve never wanted any woman besides Tammy ever since we met, but you know how she is. And I sure ain’t no movie star, never have been, so I can’t figure out why Tammy thinks women are so hot for me all the time.”

  Milton was right—he didn’t have movie-star looks, but he was still an attractive man. He worked out and had all his hair, and he had a friendly, engaging manner that served him well at the pharmacy. His wife went overboard with the jealous routine, but I figured there were probably more than a few of Milton’s female customers who shopped more often than was strictly necessary at the pharmacy in order to chat with him.

  I decided not to address Tammy’s possessiveness; otherwise Milton might complain about it further, and I’d be on the phone several minutes more. Instead I reiterated my previous comments.

  “I sure hope you’re right,” Milton said, “but the Lord only knows what Tammy might do.” He paused for a moment, and I was hoping he was ready to end the conversation. Instead, he surprised me with his next words.

  “I can’t help thinking I know her, Charlie, but I don’t know how I know her, you know what I mean? There’s something about her that’s familiar, and it’s been nagging at me. But for the life of me, I can’t put a finger on it. You ever had that feeling about someone? Because if you have, you know how annoying it can be, it’s like a little worm in your brain wiggling around trying to find the way out.”

  I suppressed the sudden mental image I had of a worm burrowing in my brain and addressed Milton’s main point.

  “I’ve had that feeling, certainly, but not about Gerry Albritton,” I said. “Remember, I was gone from Athena for a long time, so there are a lot of people here now that I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I’ve never met her before.”

  “Well, if you say so,” Milton replied. “Look, guess I’d better get off the phone, you’ve probably got a lot to do, and I’d better get back to work before Jenny fires me.” He chuckled.

  “All right,” I said. “Tell Jenny hello for me, and I guess we’ll see you at the party, if not before.” I ended the call before Milton could launch into another ramble. He was one of the nicest guys around, but have mercy, he could talk the trunk off an elephant and probably its ears and tail, too.

  I stared blankly at the work on my desk awaiting my attention. I thought about what Milton had said. He had the feeling he knew Gerry Albritton, but he couldn’t remember how or why. I wondered if I ought to share that with Melba. Maybe if the two of them got together they might figure it out between them without any further help from me.

  I laughed at that idea. This was one rabbit hole I didn’t need to fall into, trying to solve a mystery where there probably wasn’t one. None of my business who Geraldine Albritton was, if she wasn’t who she claimed to be. Besides, Tammy didn’t need to come into the store and find Melba and Milton in a corner somewhere, talking ninety to nothing. She’d try to scratch Melba’s eyes out.

  For another hour I managed to keep focused on work. When I checked the clock next I discovered that the time was eleven forty-six. Might as well stop now and go home for lunch, I decided. My neck and shoulders needed a break. I tended to hunch over the desk while working.

  On the way down the stairs I heard my cell phone ringing, and I dug it out as I reached the bottom of the flight. I glanced at the caller ID. Azalea. Probably wanted me to run by the grocery store.

  “Hello, Azalea, what can I pick up on the way home?” I said.

  “Mr. Charlie, are you about ready to come home for lunch?” Azalea sounded annoyed, and I figured the kittens had gotten loose and she needed help finding them.

  “Yes, I’m on my way out of the building this minute,” I said.

  “Good. Somebody’s been peeking in the windows,” Azalea said.

  FOUR

  I cut Azalea off in my haste to get going. “Call the police. I’m on the way.”

  I stuck my phone back in my pocket and hurried out of the building to my car. Traffic thankfully stayed sparse. I made it home in under seven minutes. When I pulled in to the garage and stopped the car, I saw no sign of the police. I thought they might have arrived by now. Athena wasn’t such a large town that the police were ever very far away.

  Heart pounding, I stumbled once climbing out of the car but managed to get to the kitchen door without falling. I opened the door and stepped inside to find Azalea and Diesel waiting. Considering the situation, I found their calmness unnerving. Azalea was frowning at me.

  “Did you call the police?” I asked.

  Azalea shook her head. “No need to call them. I would’ve told you, Mr. Charlie, but you hung up on me. Didn’t try to call you back because I figured you’d be rushing to get here.”

  Diesel came to me and rubbed against my legs. He could tell I was worried and wanted to reassure me. I scratched his head to let him know I was okay. My heart rate began to drop back toward normal.

  “What about the prowler?” I asked. “Weren’t you afraid he might try to break in?”

  Again my housekeeper shook her head. “No, I wasn’t afraid of any such thing. Whoever was peeking in the windows wasn’t a grown man or woman.”

  “Do you mean a child or a teenager was the peeping tom?”

  Azalea nodded. “Child. Couldn’t be more ’n about ten, I’d say.”

  “Did you get a good look at him or her?” I asked. “I wonder if it was the child who left the kittens on the doorstep.”

  “Reckon it likely was,” Azalea said. “All I saw was dark hair on top of a head a couple times. Caught a glimpse out the corner of my eye when I turned around. Head ducking down out of sight of the window.” She indicated the window over the sink. “By the time I got to where I could see better outside, whoever it was had run off. I didn’t see no point in going chasing after them.”

  “No, no point by then,” I said. “I’ll bet it was the kittens’ owner coming to check on them.” A thought occurred to me. Why wasn’t the child in school? The local schools weren’t out for the holidays already, were they? I thought they had a couple of more days to go, at least.

  Even if the schools weren’t out, a child could have sneaked away from the elementary school that was about five blocks from this house, I reasoned. The more I considered the idea, the more I was convinced it was probably the answer. Identifying that child, however, would be problematic. I could hardly go to the school and ask if anyone noticed a dark-haired child sneaking off or back on to the school grounds around lunchtime.

  Chances were that the c
hild would return at some point for another attempt to catch sight of the kittens. I suggested this to Azalea, and she agreed.

  “I’ll be on the lookout from now on,” she said. “Now, how about lunch?”

  “Sounds good,” I said. “I’ll just go wash my hands and have a look at our newest little boarders.”

  Diesel followed me to the first-floor washroom under the stairs and waited patiently outside while I completed my ablutions. Since I left the door open, he didn’t try to crowd inside with me as he would have done if I had started to shut the door.

  “Let’s see about the kitties,” I told him as I finished drying my hands. He chirped several times and trotted ahead of me as I walked to the living room. When I arrived he was sitting atop one of the bookshelves, surveying the scene.

  The kittens were playing with one another, and I watched their roughhousing for a moment before I realized that there were only four of them. After a closer look, I determined that Ramses had somehow managed to get out of the corral. “Well, that was sooner than I expected,” I told Diesel. “I didn’t think they’d get out for another week or two. Can you find him, boy?” I hoped Ramses hadn’t managed to get far.

  Diesel trilled loudly and leapt off the bookshelf. He started hunting around the room while I watched. I figured he would find the stray more quickly than I could, by scent if nothing else. He could also see under and behind furniture more easily than I could.

  Sure enough, after a moment Diesel located Ramses. Diesel scrunched the front half of his large body under the sofa, and I heard a combination of chirping and mewling before Diesel emerged with Ramses. He herded the errant kitten back toward me and the corral, scolding all the way.

  Ramses ran to me, perhaps to get away from the fussing Maine Coon, and before I realized what he intended, he had scaled his way halfway up my pant leg. I winced as the sharp, small claws connected with flesh a few times. I scooped him away from my leg and held him close, cupped in my hands, his face only a couple of inches from mine.

  “Okay, Ramses, I didn’t intend for you to emulate your namesake and start having adventures at this age,” I told him. In the series in which the character Ramses featured, he had been a terrifyingly precocious child, prone to wander on his own even as a toddler.

  Feline Ramses stared at me, apparently fascinated by the close proximity of my face. Without warning, he leaned his little head forward and licked the tip of my nose.

  “I’ll take that for an apology,” I said, and the kitten mewed. I stroked his head with one finger. “Now listen here, Ramses. Let’s not go exploring anymore for a while yet, okay?” He mewed again, and I put him back in the corral.

  Diesel had watched me the entire time I held the kitten, and once Ramses had been returned to the fold, Diesel resumed his vantage post atop the bookcase. He trilled to let me know he intended to keep watch for a while. At least, that was how I interpreted his communication with me.

  Back in the kitchen I informed Azalea of the errant kitten, and she chuckled as she set a plate of roast beef, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green beans at my place at the table. “Little scamp. He’ll be out again before you know it.”

  “Not as long as Diesel is there keeping an eye out for attempts at jailbreak,” I said.

  “Mr. Cat acts like he’s their daddy.” Azalea set a glass of iced tea on the table along with a small plate of buttered rolls.

  I cut into the roast beef, so tender it nearly fell apart simply from the touch of the knife. I forked a bite into my mouth and savored while I chewed slowly. After I swallowed, I said, “Perfection as usual, Azalea. No one can do roast like you do.”

  “You say that every time I cook a roast.” Azalea regarded me with a faint smile.

  “And every time it’s true.” I grinned. After a mouthful of potatoes and gravy, I said, “We’ve got to come up with another solution for keeping the horde from getting loose all over the house.”

  “What about one of those cages they put dogs in?” Azalea asked.

  “That’s one possibility, if there’s one big enough for all five of them,” I replied. “I wouldn’t want to separate them if I don’t have to. I’ll have to think about it.”

  I had never cared for the sight of dogs in crates, even though friends assured me that crate-trained dogs felt safe and comfortable with them. Stewart crated Dante occasionally, but given the poodle’s tendencies to get into mischief when left on his own, I understood why Stewart did it. Dante had a penchant for gnawing on Stewart’s most expensive shoes.

  In the case of five growing and curious kittens, however, a large crate or cage might be the safest choice. I would check with the vet’s office to find out where I might get a large one that would keep the kittens contained but allow them room to play. I hoped I could find one and get it installed in the next couple of days, because I had little doubt that where Ramses led, the other four would soon follow. Diesel and Azalea would do their best, but they couldn’t watch the kittens every minute.

  Besides, I realized, having the kittens safely contained meant that Diesel could come to the office with me or to the public library. I believed he would understand that the kittens would be out of harm’s way in the cage and would then be happy to accompany me as usual. I had become so used to having Diesel with me almost everywhere I went, and when he wasn’t with me, I definitely felt his absence.

  That decided me. A cage it would be.

  Once I finished my meal, I called the vet’s office and spoke to the receptionist. I told her what I needed, and she reminded me that Athena had one of those chain pet stores. I had forgotten that, because I never had gone inside it. I thanked her for the information and ended the call. I could make a run by the pet store this afternoon after I finished at the archive.

  Before I left to return to work I went to the living room to check on Diesel and the kittens. Diesel blinked sleepily at me as I approached the corral, and he yawned, his tail swishing. I rubbed his head while I took in the scene inside the bookshelves. All the kittens were asleep, snuggled together on one of the two makeshift pet beds I had made for them out of several old quilts.

  How tiny and defenseless they looked. I couldn’t imagine how anyone could be cruel enough to harm such innocent little creatures, but sadly I knew it happened every day. I would do what I could to ensure their safety while they were in my care, and I intended to solve the riddle of their appearance on my doorstep. I felt sad for the child who’d had to give them up to protect them. They would all go to good, loving homes, one way or another, if they couldn’t return safely to their original home.

  I turned and walked softly back across the hall to the kitchen. “All quiet on the kitten front,” I told Azalea. “At the moment they’re all napping.”

  Azalea nodded. “Maybe they’ll sleep for a while now. I have plenty to do before Miss Alex comes by with the baby.” Her face creased in a smile. “That little Rosie is the most precious thing.”

  My granddaughter, Charlotte Rose Harris, was now almost two months old, and every time I saw her I wanted to melt into the floor. She had Sean’s dark hair and her mother’s pert nose. She was not a placid child, unlike her cousin Charlie, who was hardly ever fussy. Miss Rosie reminded me greatly of her aunt Laura, who had also been a fractious baby.

  “I know Alex and Laura both appreciate you helping look after the babies,” I said. “I’m going to run by the pet store after work, but I should be home by four at the latest to help you.”

  Azalea looked at me. “The day I can’t take care of a bitty baby is the day they put me in the old folks’ home. Don’t you rush home on my account. Miss Rosie and I will be fine. Besides, Miss Alex is only going to go get her hair done and do a little shopping.”

  I knew better than to argue. “All right. See you later.” I headed to my car. I glanced in the rearview mirror and then into the camera to guide me back toward the street. As
I kept close watch on my backward progress, I saw the small figure of a woman walking down the sidewalk across the street.

  Something about that woman looked awfully familiar. I stopped the car and turned in the seat to look at her. She turned into the walk at Gerry Albritton’s house and approached the front door.

  I shook my head as I recognized the woman.

  Melba Gilley, secret agent, was on the hunt for information.

  FIVE

  When I returned to work I thought about leaving a note on Melba’s desk, asking her to come see me when she got back from her lunch hour. Knowing my friend, however, I figured she would make a beeline for my office the minute she set foot in the building to fill me in on her visit to Gerry Albritton.

  I didn’t have long to wait. Barely half an hour passed after I returned to my office before Melba hurried through my door.

  “I bet you can’t guess where I’ve just been.” Melba almost skidded to a stop by the chair in front of my desk. She plopped down in the chair and looked at me, her expression smug.

  “Gerry Albritton’s house.” I tried not to laugh at her obvious annoyance at my answer.

  “How did you know?” She sounded cross.

  “I saw you practically running down the sidewalk while I was backing out of my driveway after lunch. Didn’t you see me?” I said, and she shook her head. “I’m surprised you didn’t trip and break a leg, you were going so fast.” I couldn’t help exaggerating because I loved to tease her when she was in one of her snoopy moods.