A Tale Оf Two Kitties

chapter 16

I called Marcus as soon as I got home. It went to voice mail but he called me back about half an hour later. I gave him the information I’d gotten from Elias and I told him about the missing page of the letter.

He stayed silent until I finished talking. “I agree that it doesn’t make Victor Janes look good,” he said.

“What’s the but?” I asked, walking out into the porch with the phone.

“It doesn’t change the fact that he has an alibi. And I saw him write his name in the guest book at Gunnerson’s. He’s right-handed. Whoever killed Leo Janes was left-handed, remember?”

“So what are you thinking?” I asked as I dropped down onto the bench under the porch window. “Do you think he hired someone to kill Leo?”

Marcus made an exasperated sound on the other end of the phone. “I don’t know,” he said. “Just promise me you’ll stay away from the man until we figure this out.”

“That’s not a problem,” I said. Victor Janes had made me uncomfortable before I began to suspect he’d been involved in his brother’s death. I wanted to be around him now even less.

Roma called after supper to say they’d managed to save all of the goats and both the driver and his passenger had walked away from the accident with nothing more than a few bruises. “I had planned to check Owen’s ear when I came for dinner,” she said. “Since I didn’t get there do you think you could bring him into the clinic after you finish tomorrow? I’m sure he’s fine, but I’d just like to take one more look.”

“I can do that,” I said. We settled on a time and I said good night.

• • •

The next morning was busy. Maggie dropped off the information for the board about her auction idea, two boxes of new books were delivered, and a routine software update made all the public-access computers shut down at once.

I’d just gotten the computers up and running again when Abigail waved from the front desk to catch my attention. “Do you have a minute to talk to Lita?” she asked.

I nodded. “Cross everything,” I said, gesturing at the computer where I was sitting. “I think I have things working again.”

Abigail grinned. “You have the magical touch. The only thing I know to do is whack the side of the monitor with my hand.”

I grinned back at her. “Hey, that’s my Plan B.” I walked over to the desk and reached for the phone. “Hi, Lita,” I said. “What can I do for you?”

“Good morning, Kathleen,” she said. “I just have a quick question for you about Reading Buddies.”

“Sure, what is it?” She was looking at an invoice and luckily her question was easily answered.

“Thank you. I wish every phone call this morning had worked out so well.”

“Rough Monday?” I said.

“You’re the only person I’ve been able to actually get to talk to in person. It isn’t easy trying to change Everett’s schedule around.”

“Is everything all right?” I asked.

“You didn’t hear about Rebecca?” she asked.

My heart began to pound and I put a hand down on the counter to steady myself. “No. Is she all right?”

“She’s fine,” Lita said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. She and Everett were at an auction on the weekend. Someone’s dog got loose and knocked her down. She sprained her knee. She’s probably going to have to be off it for a week.” She cleared her throat. “Everett is hovering.”

I struggled not to laugh. “You mean he’s driving her crazy.”

Lita did laugh. “Yes.”

“He can’t help it,” I said. “He may be driving her crazy but it’s because he’s crazy about her.”

“And Rebecca—”

“—is not the best patient,” I finished. “I’ll try to go see her tonight.”

“Your good deed for the week,” Lita said. “Thanks for the information, Kathleen.”

• • •

I took a shorter lunch break so I could leave a bit earlier at the end of the day. Hercules was sitting out in the porch when I got home. I sat down beside him. “How was your day?” I asked.

“Mrr,” he replied. Translation: “Good.”

“Where’s your brother?”

Herc turned toward the kitchen door.

“Roma wants to check his ear one more time,” I said.

He put a paw over his face.

I laughed. “Yeah, I know how he’s going to react.”

I got up, unlocked the door and stepped into the kitchen. Owen was just making his way in from the living room. I set my things on the table and bent down to pick him up. “How would you like to go see Rebecca?” I asked. “She hurt her knee and she’s housebound.”

“Merow,” he said.

“I thought we could take her some of those oatmeal cookies. There are a couple of dozen in the freezer.”

He licked his whiskers. Okay, that was a yes.

“And we’re going to stop and let Roma take a look at your ear,” I said, running the words all together. It didn’t matter how fast I said them, however; Owen knew exactly what I’d said. He immediately started to try to wiggle his way out of my arms.

I set him down on the floor. “No, it’s all right,” I said. “You don’t have to go.” I went over to the sink, washed my hands and then went to the freezer to get out the cookies.

Owen eyed me suspiciously.

I put the cookies in one of my canvas carryalls, picked up my purse and keys again and started for the door. “I’ll give Rebecca your love,” I said. As I stepped out into the porch Owen edged past me. He headed straight for the back door, making little grumbling sounds all the way. Apparently we were going to see Roma after all.

I stopped to give Hercules a scratch on the top of his head. He almost seemed to be smiling at me. “I’ll see you later,” I said.

• • •

Roma was waiting at the clinic. She quickly checked Owen’s ear, and while he wasn’t a model patient he wasn’t any more difficult than usual.

“We’re going to see Rebecca,” I told Roma, explaining about Rebecca’s injury.

“Give her a hug from me and tell her I’ll be over to see her tomorrow,” Roma said.

I’d called Rebecca before we’d left the house to see if she’d like a furry visitor. “I’d love one,” she’d said. “I keep telling Everett that I’m fine but he’s not listening.” She’d raised her voice at the end of the sentence, I’m guessing because she intended her husband to hear what she’d said.

“She’s stubborn, Kathleen,” Everett had said in the background.

I’d laughed. “Owen and I will see you in a little while.”

Victor Janes was just heading up the walkway when I got to Everett’s big brick house. He stopped when he realized it was me and waited for me to join him. I had told Marcus I’d stay away from the man, but I didn’t want to give him any hint that I suspected he was responsible for Leo’s death. I wondered how he could stay in that apartment after what I thought he’d done.

“Hello, Kathleen,” Victor said. He was bundled up in a heavy barn jacket with a navy-and-wine-colored wool scarf looped and knotted at his neck.

“Good evening, Victor,” I said.

“You’re here to see Rebecca, I’m guessing.”

I nodded. “I brought her some cookies.”

He held the door open for me and I stepped into the entryway. “Come in with me,” he said, reaching in his pocket for his keys. “It’ll save Everett a trip down the stairs.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

He opened the door and once again indicated that I should go ahead of him. “Have a good evening,” he said. He turned toward his brother’s apartment.

“You too,” I said.

Owen had stayed silent and out of sight during the entire encounter with Victor but once the apartment door closed he poked his head out of the top of the fabric bag and looked at me. He wrinkled his nose and then looked down the stairs.

“I know,” I said softly. “Victor Janes smells like Biggie Burgers.”

Back before Roma had gotten insistent that I stop letting the cats eat people food, Owen had had half of his one and only Biggie Burger. When he heard the words he still got a blissed-out look on his face.

Rebecca was settled on the sofa in the living room with her knee resting on a pillow and a large cold pack wrapped around it. Owen jumped out of the bag and made a beeline across the room to her. “Hello, Kathleen,” she said before leaning forward a little to talk to the cat.

“How is she?” I said to Everett.

“Stubborn and argumentative,” he replied, rubbing his stubbled chin with one hand. “I wanted to hire a nurse but you’d think I was suggesting locking her up.”

“I think for her it’s the same thing,” I said with a smile.

Owen and Rebecca had a great visit. She fussed over him; he sympathized with her. I left with a promise that I’d be back tomorrow after tai chi. Owen climbed into the bag without argument.

When we got to the bottom of the stairs he poked his head out for a look around but stayed put. It wasn’t until I stepped outside that the bag wriggled against my leg. I moved to grab him but he was already half out. He jumped down to the walkway and disappeared around a large evergreen shrub.

“Owen!” I hissed.

No answer. Why was I wasting time? He wasn’t going to answer and he wasn’t going to come back. It would be faster to just go after him.

The yard of the big brick house wasn’t very large, not a surprise given how close we were to the downtown. There was a small outbuilding by the back entrance. I found Owen pawing at the door.

“Okay, what are you doing?” I said, folding my arms over my chest and glaring at him.

He looked at the door and he looked at me.

“It’s probably where they keep the garbage cans,” I said. “There’s nothing in there for you.”

He continued to look at me unblinkingly.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Mrr,” he said: Maybe we shouldn’t be, but we’re going to.

There was no sign of anyone else around. I opened the door. Owen squeezed inside and I slipped in as well. There was enough light from a nearby streetlight to see the three garbage cans stacked by the back wall. I lifted the lid of the first one. The empty package of bacon told me it was Everett and Rebecca’s trash. The second can was empty. The third can held orange peels, an empty pomegranate juice container and at the very bottom a take-out bag from Biggie Burgers.

Owen sat on the top of the empty can and sniffed the air.

“You were right,” I said. “Victor Janes had a Biggie Burger for supper.” I pulled out the fast food bag. Underneath it, half hidden under another crumpled fast food bag, I saw the edge of something that looked familiar. Heart thumping in my chest, I reached into the garbage again and pulled out a small plastic container. It was empty but I’d seen many similar ones. I knew stage makeup well and I knew the container had held a tinted base. I rummaged in the bottom of the trash container and found another mostly empty tub of white crème color, a bruise-and-abrasions wheel and a half-used black pencil. I could only think of one reason Victor Janes had stage makeup. He wasn’t sick. He was using it to create the illusion that he was.

I set the containers on top of the adjacent garbage can, pulled out my phone, took several pictures of the makeup and then put everything back. I used hand sanitizer to clean my hands and then I picked up Owen and made my way back to the truck.

I’d just set the cat on the seat when my phone rang. I climbed in next to him, took a deep breath and got my phone out of my pocket. I recognized the number as the library’s. It was Mary.

“Bridget hit a deer up on the highway,” she said. Her voice had a shaky edge. “She’s all right but they’re still taking her to the hospital as a precaution. I know she’s a grown adult, but she’s still my baby.”

“Go,” I said.

“Are you sure?”

“Go,” I repeated. “I’m just leaving Rebecca and Everett’s. Tell Abigail I’ll be there soon.”

I looked at Owen. “We have to get back to the library. And then we’re going to have to call Marcus. I think Victor Janes has been lying about being sick, probably as a way to generate sympathy and work his way back into his brother’s life. It was likely the only thing he thought would work after twenty years of estrangement. If he’s lying about that then maybe he’s lying about some other things, too.”

I had the photos of the makeup on my phone, makeup I felt certain Victor had been using to make himself look gaunt and pale. Would they be enough to convince Marcus that Victor had killed his brother? I started the truck. As soon as I got back to my office I’d find out.

The parking lot was almost empty when I got to the library. Monday nights were sometimes that way.

“Hi,” I said to Abigail as I came in the front door. Owen poked his head out of the bag.

“Merow,” he said.

She smiled. “Owen, it’s so good of you to finish Mary’s shift for her.”

He tipped his head to one side and gave her his best cute cat look.

“You’re such a hambone,” I said. I took him up to my office, gave him a drink and a couple of crackers and went back down to help Abigail. I tried Marcus but the call went to voice mail. “Call me,” I said. “It’s important.”

My phone rang about an hour later just as I was starting the walk through the building. I’d been expecting it to be Mary or Marcus, but it was Celia Hunter.

“Hello, Kathleen,” she said. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No,” I said. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“I’m hoping there’s something I can do for you,” she said.

“All right.”

“You mentioned that Leo got a key in the mail.”

“Yes,” I said, tucking a book back in place on its shelf.

“I think it’s possible Meredith did send it.”

“Do you know why?”

She exhaled softly. “Leo’s father had a large metal strongbox in his house. He was a child of the Great Depression and he didn’t really trust banks. The family didn’t know for certain what was in it until he died. Meredith told me that Leo had suspected his father’s lawyer may have taken things out of the box before it was opened with Leo, Victor and the lawyer present. There was only one key and the lawyer had taken charge of it as the executor when Leo’s father died.”

Celia paused and cleared her throat. “I keep thinking what if it was Victor, not the lawyer? What if he somehow made a copy of that key? What if Meredith found it? What if she figured out what it was for? Maybe Victor found out and . . .” She didn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t need to.

I thanked her for calling and hung up. I remembered what Sandra had said about when Leo had received the letter with the key. One day before he was killed. Victor Janes was looking more and more guilty. I tried Marcus again, and again all I got was voice mail.

Abigail was ready to go. “I can wait for you,” she said.

I shook my head. “It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll let you out now. I have to go upstairs and corral the furball.”

I unlocked the door, watched Abigail walk to her car then relocked it again. Then I went upstairs to get Owen.

He trailed me as I shut off the remaining lights and double-checked windows. I wasn’t really paying a lot of attention to what I was doing. I was putting together the case I was going to make to Marcus.

“Victor Janes doesn’t have cancer,” I said to Owen. “He’s not sick and if he was faking that, maybe he also faked his alibi somehow. I think when Leo got the key in the mail he recognized it and he figured out that Victor stole something—money, probably, and maybe a lot of it—from their father, and I think he guessed that Victor had something to do with Meredith’s death.” I remembered the book on theatrical makeup Leo had requested. “In fact,” I mused, “I think Leo was already getting suspicious that his brother’s illness was just another scam.”

I pulled out my phone again. I thought for a moment about trying Simon but he and Mia were still in Minneapolis. I put the phone back in my pocket and turned around.

Victor Janes was standing there.