The Cat Sitter and the Canary

5

This may or may not come as a surprise to you, but I’ve encountered a dead body before—and we’re not talking about anything that happened during my career as an officer of the law. We’re talking about after. Being a pet sitter, I’m in and out of people’s houses all day long, every day of the week, and there’s barely a neighborhood on the Key that I don’t cross through at least once on my rounds. Not that there’s a lot of crime around here. But when there is, the chances are pretty good I’m nearby, which means I’ve stumbled upon more than my fair share of crime scenes.

Like, way more.

Immediately after I hung up with the emergency operator, I dialed Caroline’s cell phone. I knew it was only a matter of time before news of a murder on the Key got around, and I didn’t want her finding out where it had happened before I got a chance to talk to her. Also, I was hoping if I described the man’s clothing, she might know who he was.

The phone rang once, and as I was trying to figure out the most gentle way to tell her what had happened, a tiny shock rippled up my spine. At that point, I think my instincts must have kicked in and snuffed out any of the panic I was feeling, because suddenly there was room in my addled brain for what I should have been thinking all along …

Gigi!

I ended the call before the second ring and dropped the phone down in the side pocket of my cargo shorts. Charlie was sitting behind the wheel watching me, and as soon as I opened the back door, he hopped up between the seats and wagged his tail excitedly.

“Sorry, buddy,” I said as I rolled the back windows down a bit. “But not a chance. Trust me, I wish I could take you with me, but I just can’t. You’ll have to stay put and guard the premises.”

Immediately the thought popped into my head that whoever was responsible for what had happened to the man in the foyer could still be inside the house, but I told myself only a complete madman would murder somebody in cold blood and then hang around to find out what happened next. Of course, only a complete madman would murder somebody in the first place, but I decided to leave that out of the equation.

By now the sun had sunk down behind the trees. At this time of evening, there’d be hard-core sun-tanners coming in from a long day at the beach, fairer-skinned folks gathering to watch the sun sink into the ocean, and gaggles of teenagers tooling up and down the boulevard, in and out of souvenir huts and ice cream shops, veering around elderly couples walking hand in hand, out for a spell under the stars before an early dinner. For a brief guilty moment, I wished Charlie and I could be there with them, strolling along, completely unaware of what was happening here.

Instead, I shook my head and looked up at Caroline’s front door.

The only good thing about the whole situation was that I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Caroline’s cat would be safe. At the first sign of an intruder, I knew Franklin would’ve bolted straight to one of his hiding places. He was more than likely secreted away in the back of Caroline’s closet or under one of the beds in an upstairs guest room.

I pulled my chatelaine out with shaking hands and was just about to put the key in the door when I stopped myself.

I whispered, “This is insane.”

I knew I’d already compromised things enough by putting my hands all over the doorknob, not to mention disturbing the mail on the floor around the body when I pushed the door open. I knew it would only make gathering evidence that much worse if I went sneaking around inside the house now, so I just stood there, one foot firmly planted on the ground and the other just barely pointed in the direction of the Bronco. Every cell in my body was telling me to get in the car and drive around the block until the police arrived, but I just couldn’t.

Not without checking on Gigi first.

I went back to the car and got Charlie, which was probably not the smartest decision in the world, but I didn’t want to leave him alone where I couldn’t see him. I wrapped his leash several times around my wrist to shorten it, and then together we walked up the driveway. At the top, just before the turn to the front door, we headed to the right and slowly made our way along the side of the house.

As we passed the portico, the walkway narrowed to a pebbled path, hemmed in with a dense hedge of camellias so lush their glossy leaves brushed the side of the house, forming a darkened tunnel all the way back.

I could feel the blood pounding in my veins, and I think Charlie must have sensed it, because he stayed right at my side, quiet as a mouse. At the first window, the curtains were closed so I couldn’t see in, but I was pretty sure it was the master bedroom. We continued on to the next window, and this time the curtains were held open with tassels, so I had a view inside. It was another small bedroom, probably originally meant to be a nursery. There was a small bed with a baby-blue comforter and a collection of stuffed animals piled up on the pillows, and opposite that was an antique walnut dresser with a giant, gilt-framed mirror mounted on the wall above it.

I was about to move on when I realized if I positioned myself just right, I could see out the doorway and down the open hall in the mirror’s reflection. I inched a little bit closer to the window as the entrance to the family room came into view.

I had a clear line of sight through the doorway to Gigi’s cage. I could see his red front door and the two miniature brass lamps on either side of it. I could see the yellow mounds of his bedding, and I could see his glass water bottle perched at the top of the stairway on the second level … but there was no sign of Gigi at all.

Even as I told myself to stay calm, I felt a scream forming at the base of my throat, and then the next thing I knew I was racing through the camellias toward the back of the house with the branches slapping my face and Charlie announcing our presence with a string of frantic, high-pitched barks. Now, whatever cover we’d had was completely blown, and if I happened to be right and there was somebody still inside, things were about to get very complicated.

Just as we came around the corner, I slid to a stop and gasped.

Gigi was sitting under one of the lime trees. Luckily, I had the presence of mind to remember the screen door to the lanai. I slid my hand down into the side pocket of my cargo shorts and felt around for one of the carrot sticks I’d brought, thinking I could use it to coax him out.

Unfortunately, Gigi had other plans.

As soon as he saw me, every bunny nerve in his bunny survival system must have kicked in, because he darted across the lanai and disappeared like a flash through the raceway to his cage.

Charlie was still barking at the top of his lungs trying to figure out what the heck was going on, and I was frantically trying to shush him when there was a faint click from above and the entire lanai filled with blinding white light from the security lamp. I felt like I was caught in a searchlight, and then, as if to confirm it, there came a faint crunching sound from behind, and I realized with a jolt that it was growing closer.

Somebody was moving down the pebbled path, headed straight for me.

Without even thinking, I pulled Charlie close, and in the instant it took to turn around and see the metal glint of a gun pointed at my face, all the options I would have had as a sheriff’s deputy flashed before my eyes: my two-way radio, my canister of high-pressure mace, my baton, my .38 caliber pistol …

Instead, I screamed bloody murder.