Six Cats a Slayin'

TWENTY-SEVEN

I must have groaned. Kanesha asked, “What’s the matter?”

The leering face of the gremlin moved upward as the child reached for the envelope. Then the child darted back into the shrubs. The video continued for another thirty seconds, but the child did not reappear.

Kanesha repeated her question, and this time I responded.

“That child is a lot cleverer than I expected.” I told Kanesha what I had seen. “I thought the whole idea of the video cameras was clever, but this child is smarter than I am. Or more devious, perhaps.”

“No clues at all?” Kanesha asked.

“See for yourself.” I handed her my phone and told her how to start the video.

She watched it all the way through. It was about three minutes long. Then she watched it again before she returned the phone. “Frustrating,” was her only comment.

“I didn’t see anything that I could use to identify her.”

“You think the kid’s a girl?” Kanesha said.

“Yes. Gut feeling, more than anything, though I think the handwriting in her notes looks like a girl’s,” I said. “It reminds me of Laura’s handwriting at that age.”

“I wish you good luck in finding out who the kid is,” Kanesha said. “I’ll be in touch if I dig up anything more.”

That was my cue to leave. “And if I come up with any potentially helpful information, I’ll let you know.” I nodded, turned, and left her office.

On the way to the car, I realized I had been gone a good half hour longer than I had intended. I should have texted Stewart to let him know I was going to be late. I texted him then, saying I’d been delayed but was on the way home. He responded less than a minute later: No problem.

I drove home and pulled into the garage. I opened the trunk and hauled out the two large bags of books. I had to set one down to unlock the door. But when I tried to open the door, it wouldn’t budge. That was odd. This door did sometimes stick when we had a lot of rain, but we hadn’t had rain for more than a week. I tried to open it several more times, then knocked on the door to attract someone’s attention.

That didn’t work, either, and by this time I was getting pretty peeved. Something definitely wasn’t right. I picked up the bags and carried them out of the garage and around to the front door. I unlocked it and was relieved when it opened easily. I picked up my bags and pushed the door open. The hall was darker than usual, and for a moment I felt a frisson of fear. Had someone broken in to the house and was now lying in wait?

Then suddenly the hall came alight with a dazzling effect, and I heard Stewart say, “Surprise!”

My eyes took a few seconds to adjust. I set down the bags beside my feet and gazed around the hall in stupefaction.

The banisters of the stairs had green and gold garlands woven through the balusters and twined around the newel posts. At regular intervals a small wreath had been affixed to a baluster. More garlands, red and gold this time, hung on the walls, strung with twinkling Christmas lights. Ornaments that sparkled in the lights hung from the garlands. All that was needed to complete the picture was the Christmas tree that we would decorate tomorrow night.

I finally saw Stewart standing in the living room doorway, watching me and smiling broadly. “Well, what do you think?” he asked.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, a bit overcome by it all. “How did you manage to do this? Was I gone that long?”

Stewart laughed. “I didn’t do it all by myself. Azalea helped, and so did Laura and Frank.”

Laura emerged from the living room holding my grandson. She laughed. “Oh, Dad, your expression is priceless.”

Frank and Azalea came out of the kitchen and approached us.

“Thank you all,” I said. “This is a wonderful, beautiful surprise.” I surveyed their faces, and they all were smiling.

“It was Stewart’s idea,” Frank said. “His design, too, so he gets most of the credit. We were only the worker bees.” He made a buzzing sound, and Laura laughed again.

I looked at Stewart, who I had come to think of more as the younger brother I never had than as a mere boarder. I walked over to him and pulled him into a hug, and he squeezed me back.

“Thank you,” I said softly as I released him.

“Merry Christmas,” Stewart replied. “I thought we needed some Christmas spirit around here.”

“There’s plenty of it here now.” I went next to Laura to kiss her cheek and have a look at my grandson. Charles Franklin Salisbury had recently turned six months old, and he was a healthy, happy infant. At the moment he was sound asleep in his mother’s arms.

“How long have you been planning this?” I asked.

“For a week,” Stewart said. “I wanted to wait until as close to Christmas Eve as possible to put everything up, and I counted on you doing your last-minute shopping this year the way you usually do.”

I grinned ruefully. “I guess I’m more predictable than I realized.”

“But in a good way,” Frank said with an answering grin.

“Where is Diesel?” I asked, suddenly aware of his absence.

“He’s in the corral with the babies,” Laura said. “Once he made sure baby Charlie is thriving, he wanted in there.”

“He sure does love those little ones,” Azalea said. “He’s going to miss them.”

“I know he will,” I said, “but they’re not going anywhere yet. Until I find out who left them on the doorstep, they’re going to stay here.”

“No luck with the video?” Frank asked.

“The cameras are working fine,” I said. “But the child is one step ahead of me, if not two or three.” I heard loud, peremptory meowing, and I knew Diesel wanted out of the cage. “Let’s all go into the kitchen. I’ll fetch Diesel, and then I’ll tell you how clever this child is.”

“Sounds good,” Stewart said. “I could use some coffee.”

“It’s ready and waiting.” Azalea headed for the kitchen. Laura and Frank followed, with Stewart not far behind.

I walked into the living room to see Diesel standing at the door of the cage, pushing against it with one large paw. “I’m coming,” I said. “I’m flattered that you’re so anxious to see me.”

Diesel trilled in response. I opened the door, taking care that none of the kittens sneaked out with Diesel. “I’ll come back and spend some time with you in a little while,” I told them. Ramses meowed indignantly at being left behind.

In the kitchen we found Stewart, Laura, and Frank drinking coffee. Azalea held the baby, crooning softly to him. I caught snatches of “Away in a Manger” as she moved around the kitchen with him. Diesel followed Azalea’s progress. He wanted to make sure, I supposed, that she was taking good care of his little buddy.

I found a mug full of coffee waiting for me at my usual place, and I slipped into my chair.

“Tell us about this clever child,” Laura said. “I’m really curious.”

I stirred cream and sugar into my coffee. “The cameras have caught her on video twice. The first time she had the hood of her sweatshirt or coat pulled so closely around her face that I couldn’t see anything else. I thought I’d be clever myself and set a trap for her.” I paused for a couple of sips of coffee, then explained the so-called trap I had set. “About half an hour ago, maybe a little more, while I was at the sheriff’s department talking to Kanesha, I got another video.” I paused for effect.

“Well?” Laura said. “Don’t be a tease, Dad.”

“The child did pretty much as I hoped she would,” I replied. “I did get a clear look at her face. The only problem is, she was wearing a gremlin mask.”

“The kid must have seen me setting up the cameras,” Frank said.

“Possibly,” I said. “Or she’s simply a very smart child who is very determined to keep her identity a secret until she is ready to reveal it.”

“What did you say in the note she took?” Laura asked.

“That I would like to talk to her, basically,” I said. “Do you know, she left a note for me before that with five dollars and some change in it, to help pay for the kittens’ food?”

“How sweet,” Laura said. “She really loves those babies.”

“Yes,” I replied. “I imagine it’s hard for her, not being able to get any closer to them.”

“What are you going to do to find her, now that the cameras probably aren’t going to help you?” Frank asked. “Would you like me to take them down?”

“No, let’s leave them where they are for now,” I said. “They might yet provide a clue of some sort. I’m hoping that she will take to heart what I said in the note and come talk to me of her own accord.”

“At some point, if you can’t find out who she is,” Stewart said, “you’ll have to make a decision about the kittens. You can’t keep all five of them.”

“As much as I’d love to keep them, you’re right,” I said. “This house is more than big enough to handle six cats, but I’m sure I can find good homes for them all.” I cocked my head in the direction of Azalea, still walking around with baby Charlie.

Laura and Frank grinned, but Stewart looked doubtful.

“It might not be as easy as you think,” Stewart said in a low voice. “With certain parties, at least.” He glanced at Azalea.

“I think you might be surprised,” I said.

“You don’t think you might be tempted to keep at least one of them?” Laura asked.

“I’d be lying to you if I said no,” I replied. “Ramses has so much personality, I’ve become a little partial to him, I’ll admit.”

“You wouldn’t take him everywhere with you, like you do Diesel, would you?” Stewart asked, looking worried. “That might be a bit much, having two cats on a leash. People around here already think you’re eccentric, but that might make them think you’re loony.”

It took me a moment to realize that Stewart was ribbing me, something he always enjoyed doing. Laura and Frank were laughing, and I noticed that Azalea appeared to find it funny as well.

“Amusing,” I said. “But you do make a good point. I don’t think I could take two cats with me. It wouldn’t be fair to leave one of them home alone all the time, either.” I had to admit my heart sank a little as I spoke, because part of me really wanted to keep Ramses. You could keep two of them, then Ramses wouldn’t be lonely when you took Diesel with you, I told myself.

“Now you’re thinking about keeping two of them,” Laura said. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes.” I sighed. “If I work at it long enough, I can find arguments to keep all of them, but y’all will simply have to talk me out of it if I start saying I’ll keep them.”

“We can try,” Stewart said, “but you know what you’re like when you make up your mind to do something.” He grinned to remove any sting from the words.

“You’re saying I’m stubborn.” I grinned back at him. “I admit it. It runs in the family.” I looked pointedly at my daughter.

Laura smiled sweetly. “At least I come by it honestly.”

Frank rolled his eyes heavenward. “If y’all only knew what I have to put up with on a daily basis, you wouldn’t joke about it.” He emitted a sigh, theatrical in its intensity. Laura giggled at him, and he winked at her.

Frank rose from the table. “As much as I would love to stay and tell you all about how stubborn my beautiful wife is, we need to get going.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Laura said. “If you’ll take the baby, I’ll grab his diaper bag.”

Azalea surrendered baby Charlie to his father. I insisted on another look at him, but then, all too soon, they departed. Stewart finished his coffee and said he had things he needed to do as well. I thanked him again for the beautiful Christmas decorations before he headed upstairs.

A few minutes later, the front doorbell rang. Diesel hurried to the door, and I followed. I was hopeful that the child had decided to come talk with me, but it was Melba who had rung the bell.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” I said. “What’s up?” I stood aside to let her in and shut the door.

Melba didn’t answer right away. She was too busy with Diesel. When she did reply, I was shocked by her expression.

“I’m so upset with Jared Carter, I don’t know what to do,” she said.

She did look miserable, I thought. “What has he done?” I took her arm and led her to the kitchen. Diesel followed anxiously, chirping at his friend.

Melba collapsed into a chair, and Diesel planted himself next to her. Melba stroked his head.

I repeated my question.

“I’ll tell you what he’s done,” Melba said. “I think he killed Gerry Albritton.”