Catch As Cat Can

20

The word of the grisly find reached the post office by one-thirty. Big Mim stopped by after her errands.

“I feel terrible.” Miranda meant it, too.

“You didn't know him,” Harry hastened to comfort her. She knew how guilty Miranda could get.

“She's right, Miranda. You simply reported that your hubcaps were stolen and by chance or whatever he was parking cars at my party. And you can believe I have chastised that company. I'll never use their valet service again. Not that he did any harm but still, they ought to scrutinize their help more closely. Their excuse was he had a valid driver's license and they needed all the help they could get due to the dogwood parties.” Big Mim shook out her umbrella. “I've made a mess. Sorry. I didn't think it would be so wet.”

“Don't worry about it. I'll mop up the floor before I leave tonight. It's that kind of day.” Harry scratched Pewter at the base of her tail.

“Do they know how long he was there?” Miranda asked.

“No. The coroner will figure it out,” Big Mim replied. “Did you know our county is getting so populous we have two coroners now, full time?”

“I didn't know that,” Miranda replied.

“I guess I'd better call Cynthia and tell her I found the Mercedes star and gave it back to Marilyn.” Harry headed for the phone while Miranda filled in Big Mim. Big Mim hadn't seen Little Mim since breakfast so she knew nothing of the returned star.

“I wish Mother hadn't found that star.” Mrs. Murphy sighed. The low pressure was getting to her.

“Who cares?” Pewter purred. “Wesley Partlow's nothing to her.”

“She's curious. She'll be especially curious now. You know how she gets,” Tucker agreed with Mrs. Murphy.

“If the kid killed himself, that's that,” Pewter, the hard-boiled, replied. “He didn't have much of a life to look forward to, did he?”

“I can't imagine a dog killing herself,” Tucker mused. “I think it's a peculiar thing to humans. Suicide.”

“If it's suicide we have nothing to worry about.” Mrs. Murphy joined Pewter on the counter. “But if it's not suicide then this will be a stormy spring.”

“Oh, come on,” Pewter said, a touch sarcastically. “Who would risk their own freedom to kill a loser like Wesley?”