Deadly Diamond

“Cats are a mysterious kind of folk. There is more passing in their minds that we are aware of.”

––Walter Scott

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: An Amateur Sleuth with a Cat for a Partner

Alyx turned over the small, silver pill case to Detective Smarts––not mentioning that I was the one who’d found it.

“Do you think the killer might have left it behind?” she asked.

“Not necessarily; it could have been dropped by anyone at any time.”

“So, it doesn’t help anything?”

“I didn’t say that, Ms. Hille. Many other things have to come together, such as a suspect, a possible motive, and an opportunity. Of course, we’ll check it for prints.”

“It seems to me, Detective Smarts, you’re taking a lot of time to put those things together, unlike your action in my son’s case.”

Detective Smarts expelled a breath of air from his puffed cheeks. He leaned forward in his chair and looked her directly in the eyes. “Ms. Hille, I’m truly sorry about what happened to your son. At the time, he was the only suspect with motive and opportunity. If it were to happen again, I’d have to say I’d do the same thing. As far as my reluctance to talk to you about the case––I see you as an amateur sleuth with a cat for a partner. No excuses, I just can’t take either one of you seriously.”

Alyx stared at him for a full five seconds before she shook her head and laughed. “I guess I can’t blame you when you put it that way.”

She stood, slipped her bag over her shoulder, and at the same time, extended her hand. “If I can help in any way, as a concerned citizen, let me know. As far as my cat is concerned, I can’t make any promises; he has a mind of his own.”

The handshake said they had a temporary truce. As for me, I didn’t care what Detective Smarts thought of my detective skills. I had a job to do, and I intended to do it.

Unlike Smarts, there were several suspects with motive and opportunity on my list. All I needed was a little help to ferret them out into the open. Although I’d figured out that Simon wasn’t as altruistic as he wanted me to believe, it was necessary that I spend more time with him and his friends see what I could learn. I fervently hoped that I was strong enough to resist the temptation to join forces with him.

Later that night, I was so preoccupied with my own thoughts on the way to the shed, that I wasn’t aware I was being followed, until I saw Pooky and Misty situate themselves outside the shed so they could hear but not be seen. Misty had questioned me during the day and must have figured out that I was meeting with Simon and his friends. She probably thought I’d lied to her and I was still planning to join him.

Awed and confused, the girls were silent throughout the whole process. I had no way to warn them that they were being shadowed––my worst fear was realized when they filed into the dilapidated shack. Six huge Siamese cats sat in statuesque poses, their blue, laser-like eyes aimed at their captives, prohibiting any movement;

Wide-eyed with fear, my housemates held their heads high. I made a quick assessment of the situation and decided on a course of action. Before Simon could say anything, I pounced in front of the felines and in a loud roar that whipped their ears back, demanded to know why they’d followed me.

Misty stepped forward and hissed that she wanted to know if I was going to join Simon, and Pooky insisted that it wasn’t totally Misty’s idea. Then they looked at each other disheartened, unaware of my motives, when I said that I didn’t believe them. Simon grinned when I told him I wanted to take them home and teach them a lesson or two about privacy. I promised Simon it wouldn’t happen again and no one stood in our way as I led them both out. Once clear of the shed, the girls were off in a blur. I was proud of them. They were obviously scared, but not intimidated.

I was in no hurry. The felines were well ahead of me––which was fine––because I needed the time to clear my mind. Maybe I should have told them everything. I should have known that Misty wouldn’t let it go, but never did I believe that anything could have motivated Pooky to leave the house. The most important lesson I’d learned that night is that true friendship––human and otherwise––is a gift to cherish.

The trip home was uneventful; no animal or human challenged our right to the night. I arrived home a few minutes behind the other two and found them waiting on the lanai. There was no arguing when I flatly stated that I would discuss everything with them in the morning. I slid the latch on the pet door closed, with no human any wiser to our recent outdoor excursion.

The following morning while Alyx was busy doing other things, I reassured Misty that I hadn’t lied to her; I told her I had to make Simon think that I was still considering leaving so that I could learn more from him about Althea. She said she trusted me, but she had no idea what Simon was teaching me, and as far as Althea’s murder case went, she wanted to help and to let her know what I needed her to do. Then she bounced away, her string trailing behind her, the same-old Misty, yet so different.

At the shop, Alyx and Maggie were busy rearranging a few items on the floor, and Maggie was trying to keep things positive as they pushed and shoved furniture around. When Alyx complained about the work, Maggie said moving furniture was not her favorite thing to do either, yet undoubtedly it was worth the effort if the item sold. Nevertheless, they were delighted to see Mary Zenn walk in, a big smile on her face.

“You look like you won the lottery. What’s up?”

“It’s even better than winning the lottery,” answered Mary, plopping down on the couch they’d just pushed to a new location, the grin she walked in with not leaving her face.

“Maggie, let’s finish this later.”

“No problem; I’ll take good news over moving furniture any day.”

“Okay, are you ready for this?” asked Mary.

“Yes,” they answered in unison.

“Do you remember the paintings you sold to the man from Palm Beach?”

“Yes, Maggie said he asked for your card. Does he want to buy more of your work?” asked Alyx.

“Oh, it’s much better than that. John Rictus is the owner of the Rictus Art Gallery and he wants my artwork to be part of his next exhibition!”

“Mary, that’s wonderful!”

Alyx hugged her. Maggie congratulated her and waited to hear more.

“The show is in three months, and he wants me to do as many new paintings as I can until then. Apparently, they get more artsy tourists than we get here in Beachside,” she said glancing at the unsold paintings on the wall.

“I’ll send invitations, and I hope you both can come.”

Mary cleared her throat, “Do you think you guys can help me with my hair and clothes on the night of my show?”

“Sure, we can. Maggie is the fashion plate around here. I’ll be glad to go with you to my stylist Enzo; he’s great at makeovers. He’ll give you what you want done in his special way,” she laughed. “I’ll make an appointment for the week before, so you have time to adjust to your cut.”

The look on Mary’s face said she’d assumed too much. “You don’t want your hair cut, do you?”

Mary hung her head a little, “I thought just taming it a little would help. I’m an artist. Artists are supposed to look weird.” As she said that, her head came up, “Thanks, Alyx, I think I’ll go as myself,” and then she added, “Maybe you and Maggie can help me look like me, only better.”

Maggie and Alyx exchanged looks, and Maggie nodded. “Speaking for Maggie and me, it’s a deal,” said Alyx.