The Cat Sitter's Whiskers

15

“Good morning, Dixie. It’s Linda. I hope you’ll forgive me for calling so early in the morning … or is it late? I’m so turned around I have no idea what time it is. I wanted to let you know we arrived in Rome safe and sound. I’m afraid Mr. Feldman was none too happy to see us go, so I hope he’s not being too naughty…”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and glanced at the message info as Mrs. Keller’s voice rambled on. The screen said her message was only two minutes long, which for her is surprisingly brief. I love Mrs. Keller, but sometimes I wonder how Mr. Keller makes it through the day without flinging himself off a cliff.

“… and we nearly left my purse in the taxi, can you believe it? Of course, it wouldn’t have been the first time, but in Rome? That would have been an absolute disaster … but anyway, Dixie, the reason I called…”

There was a pause, and now her voice was quiet.

“Dixie, the reason I called … well, I hate to trouble you with this, but it’s apparently urgent. A few weeks ago, I bought something at a gallery. Remember that little shop I told you about outside Tampa? Well, I know what you’re thinking—I promised Buster I wouldn’t buy any more masks—but, this was different, and I just couldn’t stop myself. I even left my number with the gallery owner just in case he came across any more like it. Well, now I wish I’d never done that, because he called just before we left for the airport, full of apologies. It seems he made a mistake. His partner had already sold it to a collector there in town.”

I was pacing up and down my short hallway while Mrs. Keller talked, and Ethan had moved over to the laundry alcove and was very slowly but deliberately bumping his forehead against the doorjamb.

“He said it was a communication error or some such nonsense, and of course I could have put up a fuss, but the man seemed so upset I didn’t think I had a choice but to return it. I put it under the bench by the front door while Buster was loading the car. You may have noticed it.”

I said, “Yep,” and nodded.

Ethan looked up, “Yep, what?”

I held the phone away from my ear and said, “I think she wants me to mail a package for her.”

He snatched the phone out of my hand and pressed the pause button.

I said, “Hey, I’m not done with that!”

“Yes, you are.” He backed away toward the bedroom with the phone held behind him as he fixed me with a level gaze. “Dixie Hemingway, if you don’t tell me what happened to you right this very minute, I’m going straight down to the water and your phone is taking a little walk with the fishes.”

I grinned. “I think you mean swim.”

“Yeah, that.”

I shrugged. “Baloney. You wouldn’t dare.”

“I would. You have no idea what I’m capable of when I’m desperate.”

I sighed. “Okay, but you’re not gonna like it.”

He was still holding my cell phone behind his back, but now the grin on his face fell. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you better sit down.”

“Really?”

I nodded solemnly. “Yep.”

He stared at me for a second, trying to figure out how serious I was, and then handed over my phone as he walked past with slumped shoulders into the living room. He lowered himself gently on the couch while I sat down in the armchair opposite him.

Ethan looks like a tough guy. He played football in college, and he was on the wrestling team, too. He can bench-press a million pounds, or something like that, and his biceps are about as big around as my thighs. But one thing most people don’t know—he’s a bit of a softy.

I put my hands on my knees and took a deep breath. “So…”

“Wait!” He grabbed one of the pillows off the couch and hugged it to his chest. “Okay. I’m ready.”

I told him the whole story, at least a PG version of it anyway. I did my best to downplay the drama, like how disoriented I was at first, or how terrifying it was when I woke up and realized there might still be an intruder inside the Kellers’ house. I didn’t want him to get too upset before I got to the part about Levi, especially since I was pretty sure when he heard what I’d found there he’d keel over right in front of me.

The whole time I was talking, he just hugged his pillow. In fact, he seemed to be taking it pretty well—no swooning, no dramatic groaning—he just sat there and listened quietly. Once he realized I’d gone over to Levi’s house, though, he looked up and frowned.

“Dixie, why in the world would you do that?”

“I know. It was dumb, but when we found out people didn’t get their morning papers, I started getting worried.”

He said, “Yeah, maybe. But what if it was Levi that followed you to the Kellers’ and attacked you? Did you ever think of that?”

I shook my head. “No. That’s not possible. I went to high school with him.”

“You know as well as I do that doesn’t mean a thing. I’m sorry, but that was a really dumb decision.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I know, I just said that. I agreed with you in advance.”

“Okay, well, was he there?”

I nodded. “Yeah, he was there.”

“And? What did he say?”

I looked around the room and tried to figure out how to tell him, but there just wasn’t any other way.

I said, “Ethan, he was dead.”

He looked up, his eyes wide. “What?”

“Somebody killed him. When I knocked on his trailer door, it swung open and he was inside … in a pool of blood.”

His face went pale. “You’re telling me that somebody murdered Levi Radcliff?”

“Yeah, but … wait, how do you know his last name?”

He leaned back and ran his hands through his hair. “Wow. I know him.”

“You mean … you were friends?”

“No, I didn’t know him personally, but his father was a client. My grandfather represented him in court. He was an in-house accountant for a big management consulting firm, and he got accused of embezzling money.”

“Levi’s father?”

“It turned out he was moving hundreds of thousands of dollars to offshore accounts in the Virgin Islands, accounts that he’d set up himself with bogus companies. It was big news because he was already a rich guy.”

“Wait a minute. Levi’s father is rich?”

He nodded, but I noticed there was a faraway look in his eye.

“But Ethan, that’s impossible. I saw Levi’s house. He lives in a ratty old trailer home.”

“I know. After Levi’s dad went to prison for embezzling, his mom filed for divorce. Levi was just a kid then, probably five or six years old, and the divorce was nasty. There was a custody battle, which his mom finally won, but then there was a long fight over money and assets, and then the defense attorneys produced a prenup, and even though Levi’s mom said she’d never seen it before, her signature was on it and a handwriting analyst testified it was genuine, so the judge ruled against her and she and Levi ended up with nothing.”

“Wait. How do you know all this?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, this must have been decades ago…”

He looked down and rubbed the palm of his right hand with his left thumb. “I told you, his father was a client.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why do I think there’s more to this story than you’re saying? Because it doesn’t make sense you’d know all this unless you spend all your spare time at work going through your grandfather’s old files.”

A wry smile formed on his lips. “Why do I think you missed your calling as a trial attorney?”

Ella had hopped up on one of the stools at the kitchen bar, and the entire time we’d been talking she was watching us with sleepy eyes, but now something had caught her attention outside, a bird or a squirrel maybe, and she was focused like a laser beam on the patio window.

I said, “And what did you mean when you said Levi’s dad was a rich guy?”

He shook his head. “Okay, but seriously, Dixie, this is just between you and me.”

“Of course. Who would I tell?”

He gave me a look.

“Good point. I won’t say a word to Judy.”

He looked down at his hands. “Levi’s dad killed himself three weeks ago.”

I gasped. “What! How do you know that?”

“Because I’m the executor of his will.”

I just sat there, staring wide-eyed at Ethan while all kinds of questions started bubbling up in my mind, most of which I knew he was probably not in a position to answer ethically.

I said, “He killed himself in prison?”

“No. Here in Sarasota. He only served three years at a minimum-security facility. Then when he got out he just picked up where he left off.”

“How involved could his estate be if he was so hard up he was stealing money from his employer?”

“Dixie. Poor people steal. This guy embezzled. He bought a twenty-thousand-square-foot mansion on Bird Key for his second wife, he’s got a condo on Miami Beach and another in Santorini, and he’s got more Swiss bank accounts than I can keep track of, along with all kinds of offshore companies and tax shelters. The dude was a millionaire ten times over.”

For once, I was speechless. And, of course, the first thing I thought was: Did Levi stand to inherit any of his father’s millions? Because if he did, I imagined Detective McKenzie would be very interested to know what would happen to those millions if, for example, Levi was unable to accept them.

I whispered, “Ethan…”

He nodded slowly. “Yep.”