Six Cats A Slayin'

“What did you say in the note she took?” Laura asked.

“That I would like to talk to her, basically,” I said. “Do you know, she left a note for me before that with five dollars and some change in it, to help pay for the kittens’ food?”

“How sweet,” Laura said. “She really loves those babies.”

“Yes,” I replied. “I imagine it’s hard for her, not being able to get any closer to them.”

“What are you going to do to find her, now that the cameras probably aren’t going to help you?” Frank asked. “Would you like me to take them down?”

“No, let’s leave them where they are for now,” I said. “They might yet provide a clue of some sort. I’m hoping that she will take to heart what I said in the note and come talk to me of her own accord.”

“At some point, if you can’t find out who she is,” Stewart said, “you’ll have to make a decision about the kittens. You can’t keep all five of them.”

“As much as I’d love to keep them, you’re right,” I said. “This house is more than big enough to handle six cats, but I’m sure I can find good homes for them all.” I cocked my head in the direction of Azalea, still walking around with baby Charlie.

Laura and Frank grinned, but Stewart looked doubtful.

“It might not be as easy as you think,” Stewart said in a low voice. “With certain parties, at least.” He glanced at Azalea.

“I think you might be surprised,” I said.

“You don’t think you might be tempted to keep at least one of them?” Laura asked.

“I’d be lying to you if I said no,” I replied. “Ramses has so much personality, I’ve become a little partial to him, I’ll admit.”

“You wouldn’t take him everywhere with you, like you do Diesel, would you?” Stewart asked, looking worried. “That might be a bit much, having two cats on a leash. People around here already think you’re eccentric, but that might make them think you’re loony.”

It took me a moment to realize that Stewart was ribbing me, something he always enjoyed doing. Laura and Frank were laughing, and I noticed that Azalea appeared to find it funny as well.

“Amusing,” I said. “But you do make a good point. I don’t think I could take two cats with me. It wouldn’t be fair to leave one of them home alone all the time, either.” I had to admit my heart sank a little as I spoke, because part of me really wanted to keep Ramses. You could keep two of them, then Ramses wouldn’t be lonely when you took Diesel with you, I told myself.

“Now you’re thinking about keeping two of them,” Laura said. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes.” I sighed. “If I work at it long enough, I can find arguments to keep all

of them, but y’all will simply have to talk me out of it if I start saying I’ll keep them.”

“We can try,” Stewart said, “but you know what you’re like when you make up your mind to do something.” He grinned to remove any sting from the words.

“You’re saying I’m stubborn.” I grinned back at him. “I admit it. It runs in the family.” I looked pointedly at my daughter.

Laura smiled sweetly. “At least I come by it honestly.”

Frank rolled his eyes heavenward. “If y’all only knew what I have to put up with on a daily basis, you wouldn’t joke about it.” He emitted a sigh, theatrical in its intensity. Laura giggled at him, and he winked at her.

Frank rose from the table. “As much as I would love to stay and tell you all about how stubborn my beautiful wife is, we need to get going.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Laura said. “If you’ll take the baby, I’ll grab his diaper bag.”

Azalea surrendered baby Charlie to his father. I insisted on another look at him, but then, all too soon, they departed. Stewart finished his coffee and said he had things he needed to do as well. I thanked him again for the beautiful Christmas decorations before he headed upstairs.

A few minutes later, the front doorbell rang. Diesel hurried to the door, and I followed. I was hopeful that the child had decided to come talk with me, but it was Melba who had rung the bell.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” I said. “What’s up?” I stood aside to let her in and shut the door.

Melba didn’t answer right away. She was too busy with Diesel. When she did reply, I was shocked by her expression.

“I’m so upset with Jared Carter, I don’t know what to do,” she said.

She did look miserable, I thought. “What has he done?” I took her arm and led her to the kitchen. Diesel followed anxiously, chirping at his friend.

Melba collapsed into a chair, and Diesel planted himself next to her. Melba stroked his head.

I repeated my question.

“I’ll tell you what he’s done,” Melba said. “I think he killed Gerry Albritton.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

Startled, I sank into my chair. “Killed her? What possible motive could he have?”

“Money.” Melba practically spit out the word.

I was right about Jared’s connection with Gerry Albritton, I decided.

“He was her sleeping partner,” I said, not considering my choice of words.

“He was sleeping with her, all right,” Melba said grimly.

“That isn’t what I meant,” I said. “I meant he was financing her real estate deals.”