The Cat Sitter's Whiskers

25

When I turned off Old Wharf Way down the main drag of Grand Pelican Commons, the first thing I noticed was the dirt road leading to Levi’s trailer. It was blocked off. Before, there’d been a whole line of emergency response vehicles, but now there were only two—a department cruiser and the new mobile forensics unit. They were parked side by side at the front of the road, and just behind them was a string of black and yellow police tape hung between two trees on either side of the entrance.

The fact that Levi’s road was now off limits to anyone other than authorized personnel meant that somebody, probably McKenzie, had decided it was a potential source of evidence, although I wondered what in the world she hoped to find there after so many vehicles (including my own) had rolled over it.

The second thing I noticed was a gray Nissan coupe at the end of the street on the left, right in front of the trailer I’d originally thought might be Tanisha’s. Its round taillights were glowing red, but then they went out and Mona rose up from the driver’s side. She went around to the back of the car and pulled a grocery bag out of the trunk, and then hurried up the narrow path to the front door.

I slowed down a bit, hoping she’d go inside before she saw me. Not that I wasn’t expected, but I needed some time to think. For one, when Detective McKenzie had asked me to call her if I heard from Mona again, I had conveniently neglected to mention that I was on my way to Mona’s house that very minute. I know it wasn’t the most honest decision on my part, but I knew she’d try to talk me out of it, and I didn’t think I’d be able to stop her.

I had warned Mona the authorities would have to be told about the true nature of her relationship with Levi, but I couldn’t in good conscience tell McKenzie about the wounds on Mona’s chest. I just couldn’t. For one, I wanted Mona to get help, and I knew if I betrayed her confidence she’d never listen to me again. And two, I think somewhere in the back of my mind I knew if McKenzie had seen what I had seen—that terrible field of bruised flesh on Mona’s chest, pocked with all those cigarette burns—well, I think she would have very wisely jumped to the exact same conclusion that Ethan had: that Mona was a dangerous person, not just to herself, but to everyone around her.

Luckily for me, unlike McKenzie I don’t have to think like a murderer. I can go by my gut, and my gut was telling me that Mona needed help—end of story. If McKenzie happened to see me paying a visit to the Duffy residence, then I’d just have to tell her I thought it was the right thing to do.

I pulled in alongside the grass in front of Mona’s car and stepped out of the Bronco. There was a deputy sitting in the driver’s seat of the department cruiser, the same deputy who’d been assigned to keep an eye on me that first day outside Levi’s trailer. More than likely he was stationed there to keep gawkers and reporters away while the crime technicians did their job, not to mention prevent anybody from sneaking in and tampering with evidence. He had his mirrored sunglasses on, so I couldn’t tell if he was looking at me or not, but I gave him a little wave as I made my way up the path to Mona’s front door.

The path was red brick, lined on either side with alternating clumps of red and white begonias, and I noticed most of them looked a little peaked in the hot afternoon sun, but the lawn was a deep emerald-green. Somebody obviously took a lot of pride in it, and I had a feeling it was probably not Mona. She didn’t strike me as the gardening type at all.

The trailer itself was painted a fresh off-white, like clotted cream, with accents of teal-blue around the window frames and along the roof line, and there was a small porch built onto the front, about five feet wide and just as deep, with rows of potted herbs and chrysanthemums around its perimeter. To the right of the front door, hanging from a brass chain, was a carved wooden plaque painted with orange and yellow daisies. They spelled out a greeting that I couldn’t imagine Mona uttering if her very life depended on it: WELCOME STRANGER!

I was just about to knock when I heard a little boy crying inside, and then the door swung open and Mona stepped out. She’d put lipstick on that was almost the same Popsicle-red as her hair, and there were dabs of dusky lavender eye shadow under her thin brows and across her eyelids, all of which only made her pasty skin look even paler. I noticed there were beads of sweat on her forehead, and she seemed slightly out of breath as she looked up and down the street.

“Dixie … I’m scared.”

“I know, but don’t be. Everything’s gonna be fine. I promise, you can never go wrong with the truth.”

“Yeah, maybe. But she’s so weak, worse than ever. Maybe this isn’t the right time.”

I sighed. “Okay, except the problem is I’ve already told Detective McKenzie about you and Levi.”

“Yeah, I figured…”

“So you need to tell her now, because if you don’t, McKenzie will.”

She ran her fingers nervously through her hair and smoothed it down the back of her neck. “That’s why I ain’t lettin’ that detective in this house again.”

I reached out and put my hand on her arm to calm her. “Mona, the only thing that’ll accomplish is make her suspect you have something to hide. Look, I know this is upsetting, but you have to do whatever you can to help this investigation. The more McKenzie knows, the quicker she’ll catch the person who did this.”

Her cheeks flushed. “I told her who did it but she don’t believe me.”

“You mean Levi’s stepbrothers…”

She frowned. “How do you know about them?”

“Detective McKenzie told me, but she said those kids are rich already. It’s hard to imagine why they’d risk everything for whatever money Levi was going to inherit.”

She shook her head. “Well, all I know is Levi hated both of ’em…”

“Mona, is there anyone else … anyone else who might have wanted to hurt him?”

She sighed and looked up at the sky. “Oh, man, where do I start? Yeah, probably…”

“Like who?”

“Like every girl he ever screwed over, or maybe every boyfriend and every husband of every girl he ever screwed over. And I know he was hangin’ out with some real lowlifes the last couple months, too.”

“What do you mean, lowlifes?”

“Sketchy people, comin’ and goin’ at all hours. He said he wasn’t into drugs but it sure looked like he was selling something.” She raised one eyebrow and gave me a knowing look. “One of ’em was Mexican. I’m a heavy sleeper, but sometimes I’d hear his Harley go by in the middle of the night.”

I figured this wasn’t the time to give her a lecture on racism, so I decided to let that go for now. “And did you tell McKenzie about any of these people?”

Just then a voice came from inside the trailer and Mona shouted over her shoulder.

“Yeah, Grandma, I’ll be right there!”

Her hand went to the top button of her blouse, as if to protect it. “Dixie, you didn’t tell nobody … about me, did you?”

I shook my head. “Of course not. That’s entirely between us, but you still have to keep your end of the bargain.”

“You mean the doctor…”

“Yes, and I’m serious. I want you to make an appointment to see him as soon as possible.”

She pulled the screen door open and whispered, “I did already.”

I nearly gasped as she motioned me in. The fact that she already had an appointment with Dr. Dunlop was a huge step in the right direction. Then once we were inside, I actually did gasp.

Mona looked around the room and nodded. “Yeah. Grandma really likes Christmas.”

We were standing in the living room, which was surprisingly nice, but that’s not why I was so surprised.

I said, “Oh, my gosh. This is … stunning.”

Everywhere I looked there were Christmas decorations, and I mean everywhere. There were multicolored glass ornaments hanging from the arms and backs of all the furniture, and there were ropes of tinsel garland wrapped around practically everything, even the legs of the coffee table. Every surface, every shelf, was filled with little porcelain Santas and glittering snow globes and reindeer and elves.

Mona tipped her chin at the couch. “I’d ask you to have a seat, but…”

The couch was green-and-white-striped, and sitting shoulder to shoulder from one end to the other were about two hundred snowmen, all different sizes with different-colored hats, and the back cushions of the couch were fringed with row upon row of sparkling glass ornaments. There were even silver and blue stars hanging from the lampshades.

I said, “Wow.”

Mona rolled her eyes as she made a motion for me to follow her. “Yeah, tell me about it. Christmas and gardening—it’s all she cares about.”

We went down a short hallway that led off the to the right. The walls on both sides were covered in dark faux-walnut paneling and hung with family portraits, most of them photographs of Mona in pigtails and braces, and mostly when she was a young girl, perhaps nine or ten. There was only one when she was older. in it she was wearing a bright red gown with a scooping neckline, and there was a corsage of white roses perched like a parrot on her left shoulder. She looked happy and glowing, standing all by herself next to a giant urn of cascading yellow gladiolas.

At the end of the hallway was an open door, beyond which was a darkened bedroom with a queen-sized bed next to a small dresser and a lamp made out of an old milk can. There was a single window over the bed, and two layers of lace curtains drawn across it. At first I thought there was nothing in the bed but a jumble of dark blue sheets and blankets, but as my eyes adjusted to the light, I realized there was an old woman leaning against the headboard, propped up with pillows on either side and blankets pulled around her.

Mona switched the lamp on, and the old woman opened her eyes. She was alarmingly thin, her skin almost translucent, and she was wearing what looked like a thick camel-brown winter coat with black woolen mittens on her hands and a red plaid scarf wrapped snugly around her neck.

Mona whispered, “Gran, my friend is here.”

She didn’t move, but her eyes turned from Mona to me, and at the same moment I realized there was a little boy lying across the foot of the bed with his arms stretched out over the old woman’s legs. He raised his head up and squinted at me, his eyes puffy and red from crying.

Mona said, “And this is Ricky.”

He immediately buried his face back down in the blankets. I stepped forward and said, “Hi, I’m Dixie.”

The old woman’s thinning hair was almost entirely white save for a few strands of gray here and there, but it was surprisingly long, almost down to her lap. She nodded slowly and smiled.

Mona said, “Ricky, say hi to Dixie,” but he didn’t respond.

“He’s mad at me.”

I put my hands on my hips and said, “Hi, Ricky. I saw you playing on your pogo stick. You’re pretty good. I think I’d break my neck if I got up on that thing.”

He looked up and smiled sheepishly. “I’m seven. I can teach you.”

Mona said, “Yeah, except you ain’t allowed to play on it now, are you?”

She gave me a knowing look and then pointed at the floor. The shag carpet was a plain, off-white beige. It looked relatively new, except when I saw what Mona was pointing at I had to cover my mouth so Ricky wouldn’t see me smile.

I said, “Uh-oh.”

There was a trail of brown spots, spaced about a foot or two apart. They came all the way up the hallway and around the bed, then went right back down the hall and out the front door. Each spot was perfectly round and slightly bigger than a silver dollar, like the size of, say, the business end of a pogo stick.

Mona said, “Yep. Brand-new carpet. And he knows he ain’t supposed to play on that damn thing inside the house. Right?”

Ricky’s face was still buried in the blankets, but I heard a muffled, “Yes, ma’am.”

“And what happens when you break Gramma’s rules?”

He raised his head up, glancing at his grandmother with narrowed eyes. “No TV for a whole day.”

“That’s right. For a whole day. Now go outside and play, we got adult stuff to talk about.”

He sat up. “I can go outside?”

Mona folded her arms over her chest and sighed. “Yeah, but you gotta come back in when we’re done talkin’.”

He jumped off the bed and ran to the door.

“Ricky!”

He stopped on a dime and turned around.

“You know the rules. Stay in the yard. And leave that pogo stick where it is.”

His face went from utter delight to pure disgust in the blink of an eye. He glanced accusingly at his grandmother, and then stomped down the hallway, slamming the screen door as he went out.

I said, “Aw, poor thing. You know, they make a really good spray-cleaner for carpets. I use it for pet stains. I’m sure it would get these spots right up.”

Mona said, “Well, I hope for that boy’s sake you’re right.” Then she looked around the room and nodded, like she was wrapping up a business meeting. “Okay, then, I’ll leave you to it. Gran, Dixie has something she wants to talk to you about.”

I turned to the old woman and said, “Yeah, Mrs.…”

I stopped. Mona had slipped past me quicker than I would’ve thought possible. I said, “Hold on,” but she was already closing the bedroom door behind her.

I turned to Mrs. Duffy, whose expression hadn’t changed, and said, “Wait right here.”

I ran down the hall and found Mona throwing her big purple purse over her shoulder as she headed out the front door.

“Mona! No, ma’am. You need to come right back in here…”

She turned around and leveled a look at me with determined eyes. “Dixie, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Trust me, everything’s gonna be just fine.”

She shook her head and lowered her voice. “No, I mean, I can’t. I got that appointment with your doctor friend. If I don’t leave now I’ll be late.”

My jaw dropped wide open. “Are you kidding me? It’s today?”

She nodded.

I sighed. “Okay, great. Except what the heck am I supposed to say? You need to be here when I tell her.”

Her lower lip began to quiver, and her eyes suddenly took on that lost-kitten look she’d given me at the diner. It probably wouldn’t have worked this time, except now there was a little lost-puppy mixed in as well.

She said, “Dixie … please?”