A Midwinter's Tail

18

He mumbled an oath under his breath. “The kid who shot my father? He has a new lawyer. They’re trying to get the plea agreement tossed on some kind of technicality. The prosecutor thinks it actually could happen, so she’s been looking at all the evidence again, talking to witnesses.”

I wasn’t sure why he was telling me all this. Maybe he hadn’t had anyone to talk to about it all for a while.

“Including Dayna,” I said.

He shrugged. “Not exactly. About six months ago she started hedging, claiming she couldn’t remember certain things all of a sudden. I tried to talk to her, but when I went to her apartment she wouldn’t come to the door. Then she dropped out of sight altogether.”

He leaned his head to one side and studied my face. “I heard how you helped catch the person who killed that director who was here for the theater festival a few months ago, so I think maybe you’ll get it.”

“Get what?” I asked.

He continued to play with the long screwdriver. “I came here to see if I could find out something, anything that might give me a clue as to where she went. Hell, I thought maybe she might even be here. The fact that the co-op was here and I’m an artist? It just seemed like the perfect confluence of circumstances.”

He blew out a breath. “When she walked into the theater Thursday night, for a second I thought I was hallucinating.”

“You tried to talk to her.”

“Waste of time,” he said, making a dismissive gesture with one hand. The muscles tightened along his jawline. “She told me her son was a lawyer and that if I didn’t stay away from her, she’d sue me. Then she just walked away.”

“Do you have any idea why she suddenly changed her story?” I asked, leaning over to brush snow off the driver’s side of my windshield.

“I figure somebody from that kid’s family had to have gotten to her, but I didn’t have anything to prove that. If I had, I would have gone straight to the prosecutor.” He kicked a chunk of dirty snow from the front tire of the truck. “Dayna Chapman being dead doesn’t help me,” he said. “I didn’t kill her.”

I believed him. Nothing in his face, in his voice, in his mannerisms suggested he was lying. “For what it’s worth, I believe you,” I said. “But you should tell all of this to the police. Detective Gordon.”

“Your boyfriend?”

I nodded.

He shrugged. “Okay. But Dayna Chapman getting killed might not have had anything to do with the robbery and my father getting shot.”

“Maybe,” I agreed. Or maybe it did, I added silently.

I thanked Nic for his help again and then climbed into the truck. Owen had had some time to perfect his innocent act.

“Not working,” I said as I stuck the key in the ignition. “You are in so much trouble.”

He looked over his shoulder toward the restaurant and gave a questioning meow.

“Yes, I found out a little more about Nic,” I said.

“Merow,” he said sharply. I glanced over at him next to me on the seat. He looked smug.

“No,” I said. “There’s no way you knew Nic could unlock this door and we’d end up talking. Not possible.”

He gave me another self-satisfied look and then turned to watch out the windshield.

I drove over to tai chi, parked the truck and realized I was going to have to take the cat inside with me. The snow was easing up and I knew it would get colder.

Luckily there was a cloth shopping bag in one pocket of my old jacket.

I put the bag on the seat. “Get in,” I said.

For once Owen didn’t give me a hassle. I grabbed him and my tai chi bag and got out of the truck.

The class was already in the circle and Maggie had started the warm-up. “You’re late,” she said. “Is everything okay?”

“I got locked out of the truck,” I said, swiping a hand back over my hair. “Long story. And I, uh, kind of brought someone to class.”

As usual, Owen’s timing was perfect. He poked his head out of the bag and meowed hello.

Maggie waved at him. “Hey, Owen,” she said with a smile.

He immediately began to purr so loudly everyone heard him.

“Is Owen planning on taking up tai chi?” Ruby asked. “Is that why you brought him?”

The cat tipped his head to one side as though he was considering the idea.

For once, I decided not to hedge. “Would you believe he can make himself invisible so I didn’t see him get in the truck?”

Ruby laughed.

“Could I put him in your office?” I asked Maggie.

Owen made a sour face. He definitely knew what the word “office” meant. And he didn’t like it.

“Would you like to stay for the class?” Maggie asked him.

“No,” I said firmly.

“Merow!” Owen said at great volume.

“He won’t hurt anything, Kath,” Maggie said.

“Yeah,” Ruby chimed in. “He doesn’t want to be stuck back in the office all by himself.”

Rebecca caught my eye and just smiled.

Owen—who knew how to play to an audience—tipped his head and gave them his most abjectly lonely look.

“Don’t encourage him,” I said with a sigh, but it was already too late. Maggie dragged over a chair, setting it just beyond the edge of the circle. She patted the seat and looked at me.

“You’re still in trouble,” I hissed as I set Owen down on the chair. I had a little bag of organic cat kibble in my other jacket pocket. I fished it out and made a pile of it on the chair.

I straightened up and turned around. “Everyone, please don’t try to pet him,” I said. “Owen was feral and he doesn’t like being touched.”

Owen was looking at Maggie with kitty adoration as she pointed out the different flavors in the little heap of dry food in front of him.

“Not even by Maggie,” I added.

Maggie gave Owen a big smile and moved back to the circle. I slid into place next to Taylor King.

Mags worked us hard. Owen stayed on the chair and seemed to be watching us with interest, although most of that interest was focused on Maggie. By the time we’d finished the complete form at the end of the class, there were damp patches of sweat on my T-shirt.

“Hey, Kathleen, your push hands are getting better,” Ruby said as she came to stand beside me. She used the edge of her baggy tee to wipe the sweat off her neck.

Taylor was still standing next to me. Her red hair was coming loose from the messy bun she’d pulled it back into. She reached one arm over her head and looked in Owen’s direction. Maggie and Rebecca were talking to him.

“Kathleen, what would happen if someone did try to pet your cat?” she asked. “Would he really not like it?”

Ruby laughed. “Oh yeah, he’d really ‘not like it,’” she said before I could answer. She stretched one arm across her body and pushed gently on it with the other hand. “Kathleen was hurt last winter and while the paramedics were taking care of her, a police officer tried to pick him up.” She gestured at Owen, who at the moment really did look like a sweet cuddly ball of fur sitting on that chair.

“What happened?” Taylor asked.

“Owen has claws and he knows how to use them.” Ruby grinned at me. “I’m surprised they didn’t put little kitty shackles on him for assaulting a police officer.”

I smiled then because I couldn’t help thinking about Marcus. He’d come to Owen’s defense that day after I passed out. He was pretty much the only reason Owen hadn’t ended up as a guest of animal control for the night.

I pulled my shirt away from my sweaty body. “Before I forget, we have the tree almost decorated,” I said to Ruby. “Come see it when you get a chance.” I turned to Taylor. “I know you like vintage things. Come see our tree at the library. We’re decorating it with Ruby’s collection of Christmas ornaments.”

Taylor smiled. “I’d like that. I will.”

Ruby bent from the waist and put her hands flat on the floor. “I’ll try to come see the tree tomorrow,” she said.

I walked over to Maggie. “It’s snowing. Do you need a ride?”

She shook her head and pulled a hand over her neck. “Thanks, but I have to stop at my studio.”

“Time to go home,” I said to Owen. I leaned over and picked him up. “Say thank you to Maggie.”

“Mrrr,” he said, looking up at her, eyes narrowed almost into slits.

“You’re very welcome,” she said.

I leaned over and hugged her. “Thanks, Mags,” I said.

“You can bring Owen to class anytime you want to as far as I’m concerned.” She gave me a teasing smile. “I’m pretty sure he was doing cloud hands with us. You should get him to help you with yours.”

I made a face at her. “Okay, I’m taking my cat and going home,” I said. Then I turned and headed for the door. Owen twisted in my arms so he could look back over my shoulder.

“Hey, Kath, don’t forget about lunch tomorrow,” Maggie called after me.

I waved two fingers at her over my shoulder to let her know I’d heard and I hadn’t forgotten.

It took me a while to get my coat and boots on and get down the stairs. Rebecca had to say good-bye to Owen, and then Ruby and finally Taylor wanted to see him. If talking to the cats meant I was crazy, then pretty much everyone I knew was crazy, too.

Finally we got back to the truck. Owen yawned and stretched out on the passenger side. Being charming was tiring, it seemed. I really wanted to be mad at him, but indirectly he had gotten me the information I’d wanted from Nic Sutton—although I wasn’t sure how it was going to help. I didn’t believe Nic had had anything to do with Dayna’s death. What would he have gained?

I rolled my neck from side to side. I was tired. And hungry. I hadn’t gotten the cinnamon roll I’d wanted from Eric’s.

I looked over at Owen curled up on the seat. If I went back for one, was I setting myself up for getting locked out of the truck again? I wasn’t completely convinced that my keys had “accidentally” fallen out of my pocket earlier. I decided I’d drive around the block and see if I could find a parking spot close to the café. Then I remembered that was what had gotten me into trouble in the first place.

“Do you know what Einstein allegedly said the definition of insanity was?” I asked Owen. He lifted his head and yawned again. Clearly he didn’t care. “Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”

I stopped at the stop sign and had flicked on my blinker to turn left when I saw Maggie walking up the sidewalk in the opposite direction from River Arts and her studio, as if she were headed to Eric’s Place herself. The collar of her coat was turned up against the cold and a long multicolored scarf was wrapped around her neck.

And Brady Chapman was at her side, their two heads bent together in what looked like an intense conversation. It also looked as if they were a lot more than friends.