Six Cats A Slayin'

“Really?” Melba said, looking pleased. “I loved her in that Bob Hope movie, the one with the haunted castle.”

“The Ghost Breakers,” I said. “That’s a fun movie, but we’re getting off the track.”

“It’s no use right now getting back on track,” Melba replied. “The harder I try to figure out who that woman reminds me of, the more confused I feel.”

“Tell me this, do you think she’s really an Albritton?” I asked.

Melba shrugged. “No. I think she just picked a name out of the Athena phone book, and that one must have sounded good to her. She sure didn’t act like she knows anything about the family.” She rose from the chair. “I’d better get back downstairs before Andrea starts looking for me. If I get busy with work, maybe it’ll come to me about who she reminds me of.”

“See you later,” I called after her as she headed out the door.

I busied myself with my own work. I needed to focus on the tasks at hand, not spend time thinking about two mysteries, the origin of the five kittens and the truth about Gerry Albritton.

For about half an hour I managed to stick to my resolve while I cataloged more of the collection I’d been working on before lunch, but after that my mind began to wander. Then one question came to the forefront of my consciousness.

Should I make a concerted effort to find out who left the kittens on my doorstep?

If I did manage to track down the child who had done it, would I cause trouble for her or him? Perhaps I was being oversensitive, but the wording of the note left with the kittens—especially the emphasis on the word he—made me hesitate. I had thought about going door-to-door in the neighborhood to inquire whether anyone’s cat had recently given birth to a litter. I knew most of the families within a couple of blocks on my street and part of the street behind my house, but not so many in the surrounding streets, other than to say hello when I encountered them somewhere in town.

One idea struck me. Gerry Albritton’s holiday party was coming up next week. If most people in the neighborhood turned out for it, I could work my way through the crowd asking innocuous questions. Everyone always wanted to talk to me about Diesel anyway, and discussing my cat would serve as a natural opening to a more general chat on the subject of house pets.

That provided me with one excellent reason to attend a function that otherwise I wanted to avoid. I could enlist Helen Louise in the campaign to dig for information as well. Between us, we ought to be able to find out something, or at least eliminate families from the inquiry.

With that decided, I could get back to work and actually do the job I was supposed to be doing. Though I missed having Diesel in the office with me, I worked happily until three thirty. Then I gathered my things, turned out the lights, and locked the door behind me.

There was no sign of Melba downstairs. I would catch up with her later. I knew that when she figured out why Gerry Albritton seemed familiar, I would be the first to hear about it. I headed out to my car to drive home.

When I neared my driveway, I spotted my daughter-in-law’s car parked on the street in front of the house. My granddaughter was barely two months old, and Alex hadn’t been venturing out of the house much since Charlotte Rose had made her appearance. Sean hadn’t said much, but I figured that Alex was struggling a bit with motherhood. I knew that Rosie, as we called her, was not the happy baby that her little cousin Charlie was. Rosie was more fretful and demanding, and I thought caring for the baby was wearing Alex down.

Sean was helping with Rosie as much as he could, but he had a law office to run—a job he usually shared with Alex. They couldn’t afford to shut down the office while Alex was on maternity leave so Sean could be at home, too. Alex’s father, Q. C. Pendergrast, had un-retired, as he called it, in order to help, but he had suffered a stroke a few months ago and was still recovering from its effects. He could only do so much.

I thought Sean and Alex needed to bring another lawyer into the firm, but they had been reluctant to do that. Now, however, it seemed more imperative to me than ever. I had expressed my opinion when it was solicited, so both my son and daughter-in-law knew how I felt. Now it was up to them to act on my suggestion.

As I was getting out of the car, I realized I had completely forgotten about the pet store. I hesitated a moment. I really ought to get this taken care of today. But I wavered. My granddaughter was here. I decided the pet store could wait.