The Whole Cat Аnd Caboodle

Chapter 4

I stared at Nick for a long moment—which wasn’t hard to do. “I don’t understand,” I said. “Michelle called you? Why?” I gave him a small smile to soften the words. “No offense.”

He smoothed a hand over the back of his head and gave me a wry smile. “You haven’t heard.”

I had no idea what he meant. “I guess not,” I said.

“I’m working for the medical examiner.” He half turned and I saw the words State Medical Examiner’s Office on the back of his jacket.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Doing what?”

Nick shrugged. “Death investigator.”

“I thought you were taking a job teaching EMT classes in Standish.” For the past four-plus months I’d spent all my time either working at Second Chance or working on my house, so I was a little out of the loop as far as what was going on around North Harbor, but I hadn’t thought I was that out of it.

He glanced over at my truck and then his gaze came back to me. “I turned it down,” he said quietly.

Nick had a degree in biology and I knew that for a while he’d thought about going to med school. He’d worked as an EMT to put himself through college. I was about to ask him why the change in plans when Michelle joined us.

“Hello, Sarah,” she said. Her smile was cool and professional.

“Hi,” I said. It was the first time I’d seen Michelle face-to-face since I’d come home to North Harbor and I suddenly realized that she had to have been avoiding me for the past six months. Outside of tourist season the town was just too small not to bump into pretty much everyone.

An awkward silence hung between us for a moment. At least it felt awkward to me.

Michelle looked at Nick. “I know it’s not part of your job description, but before you look at the body would you mind checking on Mrs. Hamilton?” she asked. “See if she needs to go to the hospital?”

“Of course.” He looked at me then. He didn’t smile exactly, but the warmth in his eyes was hard to miss. “Good to see you, Sarah,” he said, reaching down to pick up his case.

I nodded. “You too, Nick.”

He headed across the grass, and Michelle waited until he reached the curb before she turned her attention back to me. “How have you been?” she asked. Her tone was polite, almost formal.

For a moment I thought about waving a hand in front of her face and reminding her that it was me, reminding her about the time Gram had taken us to Portland overnight and we’d snuck out to buy padded bras to enhance our boyish fourteen-year-old, pretty much nonexistent figures. Gram hadn’t been fooled by the old pillows-under-the-blankets trick. And I don’t think she’d really bought our story that Michelle had “forgotten” to pack any clean underwear, either. But then Michelle had pulled a pair of white cotton underpants—granny panties, really—out of her hot pink faux-fur-trimmed bag. Our alibi, she’d called the underwear when she’d dragged me into a dollar store to buy it on the way back to the hotel.

But I didn’t. We’d already had a very melodramatic version of that conversation years ago and it hadn’t changed anything. So all I said was, “Things are going well.”

She gave a slight nod and took a small notebook and a pen out of the pocket of her jacket. “What were you and Mrs. Elliot doing here?” she said.

I told her about the workshop, how Maddie hadn’t shown up and Charlotte and I had decided to check on her. I explained how we’d found Maddie and how I’d sent her with Charlotte to wait in the truck while I called 911.

Michelle nodded silently and made notes. “Did you see anyone else?” she asked, when I stopped talking.

I shook my head.

“Did Mrs. Hamilton say anything?”

“No. Just that Arthur Fenety was dead. I could see that she was right, but I checked for a pulse just to be sure.”

She frowned. “Did you know him?”

“He came into the shop a couple of days ago. I bought a silver tea set from him. The next day he changed his mind and wanted to buy it back.”

“I’ll send somebody over to get that.” She looked over my shoulder toward the backyard and then her gaze settled on my face again. “Is there anything else?”

“I don’t think so,” I said, absently rubbing my hands together.

Her expression softened a little. “I, uh, heard about your radio show,” she said. “I’m sorry. I used to listen to it.”

For a moment I could see a glimpse of the fifteen-year-old who used to be my best friend. I gave her a wry smile. “Thank you. According the new station owner most of my listeners were over-the-hill hippies who wore Birkenstocks and ate tofu.”

Michelle glanced down at her stylish black boots, then back at me. “Well, I do like the orange-ginger tofu stir-fry at McNamara’s,” she said, and a hint of a smile flashed across her face.

I didn’t talk much about my former late-night syndicated radio show. When the radio station had changed hands I’d been replaced by a music feed from California and a nineteen-year-old with a tan and ombré hair who gave the temperature every hour. Or, as my brother Liam derisively called it, Malibu Ken and a computer.

There was an awkward silence, and then Michelle fished in her pocket and held out a business card. “If you think of anything else, please call me.”

“I will,” I said, taking the little card stock rectangle without even looking at it. I glanced toward the truck. “What about Charlotte and Maddie?”

“They can go, as well,” she said. She turned toward the back of the house.

“It was good to see you, Michelle,” I said.

She stopped and looked back at me over her shoulder. “Yeah, it was good to see you, too.”

I stuffed my hands in my pockets and walked across the front lawn to my truck. Nick was standing by the curb, talking to his mother. Maddie was in the cab of the truck, talking to Elvis and stroking his ebony fur. Her color was better. Elvis was giving her his full attention and, knowing the cat, probably making little murps of acknowledgment from time to time. I figured that whomever the cat used to belong to had talked to him a lot. Somewhere Elvis had learned the art of listening, cocking his head to one side, focusing his green eyes on the speaker’s face and making encouraging sounds to keep the conversation going.

Nick and Charlotte both turned as I approached them. “We can go,” I said. I gave Nick an inquiring look. “Is Maddie okay?”

He nodded. “I think so, but keep an eye on her.”

“We will,” I said. I looked at Charlotte. “Would you like to go to your house?”

“Please,” she said.

“I’ll take them,” I said to Nick. “I’m guessing you have work to do.”

He nodded. “Thanks.” He put one arm around his mother’s shoulders and leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Call me if you need anything. Otherwise I’ll be in later.”

Charlotte laid a hand against his cheek and gave him a small smile. “I’m just fine,” she said.

Nick smiled back at her. “I never doubted it,” he said. He straightened up and turned the smile on me. “You have my number now. If they need anything—or if you do—call me. Please.”

“I will,” I said. I sensed another awkward moment coming on.

“I’m so glad I finally got to see you,” he said. “Even if it had to be like this.”

“Me too,” I said.

He was gone, cutting across the lawn with long steps, before we got to the awkward part. I watched him pull a pair of latex gloves from his pocket, thinking that he was a very good-looking man. I gave a little shake of my head. And that was a very inappropriate thing to be thinking with Nick’s mother standing beside me, not to mention Arthur Fenety’s dead body still in the backyard.

I put one arm around Charlotte’s shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me Nick was working for the medical examiner?” I asked, keeping my voice light.

She pursed her lips and sighed. Then she looked at me. “Because I was hoping he wouldn’t take the job.”

I could tell from the expression on her face that she was serious. “Why?” I said.

Her gaze slid off my face. She looked across the yard. Nick was just disappearing around the side of Maddie’s house. I waited in silence until Charlotte looked at me again. She answered my question with a question. “What did Nick say to you?” she asked.

“Just that he was working for the medical examiner’s office and he turned down the job teaching the EMT course.”

Charlotte nodded. “We had . . . words.” Her mouth moved but she didn’t say anything else.

“You wanted him to take it.”

“Do you know how many close calls he’s had in all the years he’s been an EMT?” she asked.

I shook my head.

“I’m proud of him for wanting to help people. I just thought maybe he could do it in a classroom for a change.” The color rose in her cheeks. “And I thought maybe being in a classroom might inspire him to think about medical school again. It doesn’t make me a very nice person, does it?” she said.

I gave her shoulder another squeeze. “Don’t talk like that,” I said. “You’re one of the nicest people I know.”

“I know Nicolas is a grown man, more than capable of taking care of himself.”

“But he’s still your baby,” I finished.

She nodded again. “And I don’t think this is going to be easy. Nick has some strong opinions. Not everyone is happy he got this job. And while I think everyone has a right to express their opinion, if your opinion is critical in any way of my child, well, let’s just say we’re going to have a little problem.”

“Nick is a lovely, lovely man,” I said, deadpan, to lighten the mood.

Charlotte smiled at me then. “He is,” she said, “and, you know, he’s not seeing anybody.”

“Don’t start,” I said, with a mock glare. “You sound like Gram.”

“That’s because she wants great-grandchildren before she’s too old to enjoy them.”

I shook my head. “She told me she wanted them before she was too dead to enjoy them.”

“Yes, well, that too,” Charlotte said. Her expression grew serious. “We should get Maddie away from all of this.” She gestured with one hand.

“Michelle said we could all leave,” I said. “I’ll run you over to the house.”

“If it’s not too much trouble. Maddie and I could walk.”

“It isn’t,” I said. “Let’s go.”

I walked around the front of the truck. Through the windshield I could see Elvis sitting on Maddie’s lap while she stroked his black fur. It looked like she was talking to him as well. She seemed more like herself.

I climbed into the driver’s side of the cab and Maddie turned to me. “We can’t stay, can we?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry. We can’t,” I said.

Charlotte had gotten in on the other side. “You can stay with me,” she said.

Maddie took a deep breath as though she were going to say something, argue maybe. Then she let it out and all she said was, “Thank you.”

I drove around the loop and out to Charlotte’s little yellow house at the bottom end of the court. Elvis stayed on Maddie’s lap and when she climbed out of the truck she carried him with her. I’d been planning on leaving Elvis in the truck, but Maddie seemed to be finding some comfort in the cat and I didn’t think Charlotte would mind.

As soon as we stepped through the door Charlotte headed for the kitchen and Maddie and I—and Elvis—trailed behind her. “Sit,” Charlotte said. She washed her hands at the sink and filled the kettle, setting it on the stove with one hand and lifting down a canister that I knew held tea bags with the other.

“Charlotte, you sit,” I said.

“I’m just going to make the tea,” she said over her shoulder. Like my grandmother, Charlotte thought tea fixed everything from a broken bracelet clasp to a broken heart.

“I’m capable of making a cup of tea,” I said, pulling off my jacket and draping it over the back of a chair. Charlotte gave me a skeptical look. “I am,” I insisted. “Gram may not have been able to teach me to cook but I can make a decent cup of tea, so sit.”

“Don’t fuss over me, Charlotte,” Maddie said. She’d taken a seat at the table. Elvis was on her lap, head cocked to one side as he took in all the scents of Charlotte’s kitchen.

Charlotte opened her mouth to say something, and there was a knock at the front door.

“It’s only me,” a voice called. Liz appeared in the doorway. “I heard what happened,” she said. She leaned sideways to look in Maddie’s direction and held out a small white bakery box to me. “I cooked,” she said, her blue eyes flicking momentarily in my direction. “Are you all right?” she asked Maddie.

Maddie nodded. “I was just telling Charlotte not to fuss.”

Liz made a dismissive wave with one perfectly manicured hand. “Nobody’s fussing,” she said. She glanced at me again.

I held up both hands. “I’m just making tea. Have a seat.”

“Heaven help us,” Liz muttered almost under her breath. She sat down at the end of the table, reached across and gave Elvis a scratch on the top of his head, and then took one of Maddie’s hands. “What can I do?” she asked.

I took the container of tea bags out of Charlotte’s hands and all but pushed her toward the table. “I’ve got this,” I said. I warmed the teapot with a little hot water from the kettle, dropped the tea bags inside and turned around to find Charlotte poking her head in the refrigerator.

I leaned over her shoulder. “What are you doing?” I hissed.

“I’m looking for the chicken.” She straightened up, holding a small blue-and-white casserole dish.

“Of course,” I said. “Tea with milk and sugar, tea with lemon or tea with chicken.”

“Isabel obviously fell down on the job when it came to teaching you some respect for your elders,” she said tartly. I knew from the gleam in her eye that she wasn’t really annoyed with me. And I knew why she’d gone foraging for that chicken.

“I failed that day,” I countered, taking the container from her. “Number one, that cat does not need a piece of chicken. Number two, sit down, please.”

“It’s not fair for all of us to have something and not give Elvis a little treat.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I muttered. She glared at me. I glared at her. I won. She sat.

I could see Elvis out of the corner of my eye. He had a nose like a truffle hog and it was twitching in my direction. I put the chicken on the counter, put the cookies Liz had brought on a plate, made the tea, poured the tea and served everything to the ladies, the whole time being followed by a pair of deep green eyes. I knew if I didn’t give the cat a piece of that chicken Charlotte would be on my case. She may have been as tough as a boiled owl, to use one of my grandmother’s expressions, but I knew her well enough to know that she’d been shaken at finding Maddie with Arthur Fenety’s body.

I cut four tiny bites of chicken for Elvis, set them on a piece of paper towel on the floor and crooked my index finger at the cat. He rubbed the side of his face against Maddie’s wrist, jumped down and came across the floor to me. Being a well-mannered cat, he gave a soft meow of thanks before he started eating.

I poured a cup of tea for myself, added lots of milk and sugar and took the last seat at Charlotte’s table. Liz lifted her cup and nodded with what I took to be approval of my tea-making abilities. I hadn’t been exaggerating when I’d told Charlotte it was the only thing Gram had been able to teach me to do in the kitchen.

“Sarah, what’s going to happen now?” Maddie asked. Both of her hands were wrapped around the china teacup. She had long fingers, the nails cut short and square, the opposite of Liz’s immaculate manicure.

I ran my finger around the rim of the cup. I didn’t want to tell Maddie or the others about my suspicions. “There’ll be an autopsy,” I said, finally. “The police will have more questions for you. They’ll need to contact his family.”

Maddie put a hand to her throat. “Oh, my word,” she said, the color that had come back to her face draining away. “I forgot about Daisy.”

I looked at Liz, raising an eyebrow.

“Arthur Fenety’s sister,” she whispered.

Charlotte put a hand on Maddie’s arm. “The police will take care of that,” she said.

“I should call her.”

Charlotte shook her head. “You can call her later.”

“Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Liz said, tracing the loop of the teacup handle with one finger.

Maddie exhaled slowly. “I don’t really know what to tell you,” she said. “I invited Arthur for brunch. He says it’s the best parts of breakfast and lunch put together and the time is more civilized.” Her voice trailed away. She cleared her throat and when she spoke again her voice was stronger. “He arrived between quarter after twelve and twelve thirty. We talked for a few minutes; then I went in to start cooking. I was going to make an omelet for the two of us to share when the phone rang. Everything took longer than I meant it to. When the omelet was ready and I went back outside, Arthur was . . . gone.” She looked across the table at me. “I couldn’t find a pulse. I . . . I should have called an ambulance. I don’t know what came over me. It was only a couple of minutes and you and Charlotte showed up, thank heavens.”

“How long were you in the house?” I asked. Elvis had finished his snack and had started washing his face. He paused, one paw raised, as though he wanted to hear Maddie’s answer, too.

She turned to look at me, fingering the collar of her tailored yellow blouse. “I don’t know, really. I didn’t look at the clock. No more than about fifteen or twenty minutes, I’m guessing. I . . . I shouldn’t have left him alone for so long.”

Liz immediately spoke up. “Don’t think like that. Arthur wasn’t a young man. This kind of thing can happen at our age.” She’d put a cookie on her napkin and broken it into several pieces, but I noticed she hadn’t eaten any of them.

I nodded agreement that I didn’t completely feel. I didn’t see the point in saying that I didn’t think Arthur Fenety had died of natural causes. “Liz is right,” I said. “There’s no point in speculating. Let the police do their job.” I glanced at my watch. “Is there anything else I can do for you before I head back to the store?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m in good hands here.” She looked at Liz and Charlotte before her gaze met mine again.

I pushed back my chair and got to my feet. Charlotte stood up as well and came around the table, wrapping me in a hug. “Thank you, sweetie,” she whispered against my ear.

“If you need anything, call me,” I said softly.

She nodded.

I leaned down and put my arm around Maddie’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry this happened,” I said. “But I’m very glad that I got to see you.”

She reached up and covered my hand with hers. “I’m glad I got to see you, too, Sarah,” she said.

I straightened up and Liz was on her feet. “I’ll walk out with you,” she said. “I think I blocked you in.”

I scooped Elvis up off the floor, gave Maddie and Charlotte one last smile and headed for the front door with Liz right behind me.

Liz’s car was parked at the curb. It wasn’t blocking my truck in any way.

“I can back out just fine,” I said to her.

She crossed one arm over her midsection. “Well, look at that,” she said. She gave a small shrug.

“Yes, look at that,” I repeated. Elvis leaned sideways in my arms and gave Liz a look that could only be described as skeptical.

“I’m glad you were with Charlotte,” she said.

I opened the driver’s door of the truck and set Elvis on the seat. He immediately sat down and looked expectantly up at Liz.

I turned to face her. “Okay, what’s going on?” I said.

She brushed a stray thread off her lavender shirt. “Nothing’s going on. I just wanted to ask you what happened without Maddie sitting right there.”

I explained how Charlotte and I had ended up at the little stone house, how we’d gone looking for Maddie and found her in the backyard with Arthur Fenety’s body.

“Why didn’t she call for help?”

I’d wondered the same thing myself. “I don’t know,” I said. “Shock, I guess.”

Liz narrowed her blue eyes. “Do you think he had a heart attack?”

I didn’t want to lie to her. Plus I wasn’t very good at it. “I don’t know,” I said, fishing my keys out of my pocket. “He was slumped to one side. I felt for his pulse and I couldn’t find one.”

She nodded, seeming satisfied with my answer. “I should get back inside,” she said.

“Call me if Maddie or any of you need anything.”

“I will.” Liz reached over and patted my cheek. “I’m glad you’re here, Sarah.” She turned then and headed back up the driveway.

I climbed in the truck and waited until she was inside before I backed into the street. I looked down at Elvis next to me on the seat. “There’s something Liz wasn’t telling me,” I said.

He gave a short, sharp meow. I decided to see it as him agreeing with me.

I reached over and gave the top of his head a scratch. “So what’s her secret?” I said. “And what does it have to do with Arthur Fenety?”

Elvis made a sound close to a sigh.

Clearly he didn’t know, either.