The Time for Murder Is Meow Read online

  Of all the things he might have said, that was the last thing I expected to hear. “What? Why? When did this happen?” I stammered.

  He leaned back a bit and folded his arms across his chest. “You needn’t act so innocent. What were you doing, trying to cast suspicion away from yourself?” He jabbed his finger in the air. “Well, it won’t work. There are far better people to cast in a disparaging light than me.”

  I forced myself to respond in a calm tone. “I’m sure there are. And I wasn’t deliberately trying to cast any suspicion on you. I just told the detective what I’d heard.”

  “He said that you overheard me threaten Amelia.”

  “That’s not exactly true. I told him I saw the two of you arguing over an envelope, and Amelia snatched it away from you and you muttered ‘over my dead body.’ That’s all.”

  “That’s all!” he thundered. “Believe me, young lady, there was nothing sinister about that remark. Haven’t you said things like that when you were angry?”

  I recalled shouting similar remarks at Patrick more than once, but pushed that out of my mind. And there was no way I was going to clue him in about my own ominous words to Amelia before she died. “I suppose so,” I said. “But—”

  “No buts,” he snapped. “Amelia argued all the time with everybody. She had a lot worse than that said to her, believe me. You could count on one hand the people she didn’t argue with.” He cocked his brow at me. “I didn’t kill her,” he said flatly.

  “I’m sure Detective Bloodgood didn’t accuse you.”

  “He didn’t have to. The mere idea he’d even stoop to question me means I’m on that suspect list.” He glared at me again. “My only consolation is that you’re probably at the top of it. And while we’re at it, just where do you come off, threatening to sanction the museum board?”

  I lifted my chin. “All I want is to be treated fairly.”

  He paused and cocked his head to one side. “I can appreciate that,” he said slowly. “But there are better ways to achieve that than by threats.”

  “Look, Mr. Knute. My intention was not to make trouble for you. I mentioned your altercation with Amelia simply in passing, because Detective Bloodgood asked me about my own tiff with her. I certainly didn’t intend to point fingers at you.”

  He stared at me for a second and then said, in a somewhat mollified tone, “Well, I guess I can understand it. Josh can be intimidating at times.”

  “As for sanctioning the board, I wouldn’t have done anything hastily,” I continued. “I wanted to find out why those particular four people turned down the display offer.” I paused. “Mazie Madison didn’t, and neither did Simone Bradbury . . . or you.”

  Garrett’s expression softened, and a bit of the fury went out of his gaze. “Well, I’ve always felt there’s a lot to be said for being one of the crowd. Besides, none of the other museums’ displays could hold a candle to your aunt’s collection. Unfortunately, not everyone shared my opinion.” He paused. “I heard you’re going to open up Urban Tails again. That’s great news. It’s sorely missed by all the pet owners in town, including me.”

  “You have a pet?”

  “A corgi. And he loves that premier brand of dog food your aunt’s store carried. The only other spot to get it is the big box store on Highway 12, and that’s a pain to get to. Any idea when you’ll reopen?”

  “As soon as possible.”

  His eyes held a slight twinkle now. “Translation: just as soon as you’re no longer a murder suspect?”

  “More of a person of interest. Getting back to our original discussion, I’d heard that Amelia had a certain way with those particular board members,” I said carefully. “I just wanted to be certain Amelia wasn’t putting undue pressure on them to vote the way she wanted them to. I don’t mind losing out on the display opportunity as much as I do the idea I might have been disqualified due to something out of my control.”

  The puzzled look returned. “What would be out of your control?”

  I took a breath. “I’ve heard Amelia and my aunt, Matilda Washburn, had a long-running feud. I need to be certain that didn’t play a part in the turndown.”

  Garrett Knute reached up a hand to rub absently at the back of his neck. “First, I hadn’t heard about a feud, but it would explain a lot. There was no love lost between those two women, that’s for sure.”

  “I understand it was over a man, but no one seems to know any details other than that.”

  “Hm,” he grunted. “Hard to imagine Amelia getting her knickers in a twist over a man. She always seemed the independent type. As for her exerting influence over the others, I can’t speak to that. I can only say that she never tried to sway my opinion, most likely because she realized she couldn’t.”

  I looked him straight in the eye. “Was she attempting to try?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The argument you two were having the other day. I caught the tail end of it. You wanted to see the contents of an envelope she had, and she wouldn’t let you. Pardon me for asking, but was Amelia holding something over your head?”

  His face darkened again. “If you’re trying to imply she found out some deep, dark secret about me, think again.”

  I cocked my brow. “Then why were you so upset?”

  He barked out a short laugh. “You think that was upset? That was just a normal argument with Amelia. She did try to get under my skin and succeeded for a bit, but after I cooled down, aw heck, it’s all moot now anyway, isn’t it?”

  “She hadn’t dug up something on you, perhaps a secret you didn’t want revealed?”

  He shifted his weight to his other foot. “Amelia’s dug up many secrets on people over the years. She was a nosy old woman. I had no reason to want her dead, but I could think of plenty who did. As a matter of fact, I’ll tell you the same thing I told Josh. If I oversaw the investigation, I know exactly who my number-one suspect would be. Melvin Feller!”

  And with that, he nodded curtly, turned, and strode into the General Store, leaving me staring after him. After a minute, I climbed back into my car. I started the car and turned it in the direction of Fox Hollow, and I’d gone little more than a mile when it suddenly occurred to me that Garrett Knute had never answered my question.

  The envelope he and Amelia had argued over and its contents were still a deep, dark mystery.

  Thirteen

  I returned home, parked, and started bringing in the groceries. Purrday and Kahlua lofted atop one of the high cabinets to watch me unpack and Purrday let out an approving meow when I held up the large bag of kibble I’d gotten on sale. Once I was finished, I sank down in one of the chairs to catch my breath. The cats jumped down, and Kahlua leapt into my lap while Purrday twined himself around my ankles. I related my encounter with Garrett Knute to them. “He never did say what was in that envelope,” I mused. “I wonder what it could be?”

  Both cats cocked their heads and meowed softly.

  “He seemed awfully anxious to point fingers at this Melvin Feller,” I went on. “I think I should find out a bit more about him. What do you think?”

  Kahlua burrowed her head into my armpit. Purrday stretched out a forepaw and tapped my knee.

  “Glad you both agree.” I remembered Olivia saying that Melvin had worked for Garrett and Rita’s husband, so I knew exactly what my next move would be. I gently dislodged Kahlua from her post under my arm, pushed back my chair, and reached for my purse.

  Time for some coffee at Sweet Perks, and maybe some juicy gossip, too.

  • • •

  Parking seemed to be at a premium today, but I found a spot across from Urban Tails and slid my convertible into it. The sign, Reopening Soon, was still on the door and I noted that something was scrawled in pencil beneath my words. I hurried over for a better look. Someone had printed Not soon enough on the sign. I had to agree with their assessment.

  Sweet Perks was about a five-minute walk from Urban Tails. This time when I entered, Rita
was behind the counter. She looked up and smiled as I approached. “Shell. How nice to see you! What can I get you?”

  My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t had breakfast or lunch. I glanced at the display case and my eye fell on a spinach mushroom quiche. Rita saw me looking at it and grinned wider.

  “My niece makes them fresh,” she said. “How about a nice piece of quiche and a double mocha latte with skim milk?”

  “Sounds perfect.” I glanced around, and since there was no one waiting behind me, I asked, “Would you have a minute to talk?”

  “Sure. It’s time for my break anyway. You go on, get a table and I’ll bring your food right over.”

  I went over and selected a table in the farthest corner of the store. A few minutes later Rita hurried over with a tray on which rested a plate with a generous slice of quiche and two tall mocha lattes. Rita set the plate in front of me and I inhaled the delicate aroma. “It smells delicious,” I said.

  “That it does. And it tastes even better.”

  I picked up my fork, broke off a piece, and popped it into my mouth. It was piping hot and delicious, and practically melted in my mouth. “Ooh, you’re right,” I said. “This is scrumptious.” I picked up my latte, took a sip, and let out a contented sigh. “Um. I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven.” I pushed the coffee cup back. “I decided it was time to stock up, so I did some grocery shopping today at the General Store.”

  “Oh, don’t you just love that place?” Rita gushed. “It’s so cozy, not like that A&P. And Agnes makes all those jellies and jams herself.”

  “Does she? I’ll have to buy some next time. I just stuck with the basics this time out.” I took another sip of coffee. “I didn’t realize Kyle Hart worked there.”

  “Carolyn’s son? Oh, yes.” Rita smiled faintly. “His sister works too, at some fancy hair salon over in the next town. I think she wants to become a hairstylist. Or maybe it’s a makeup artist, I’m not sure.”

  I popped another bite of quiche into my mouth, chewed, and then said, “Is Selena homeschooled, like her brother?”

  Rita shook her head. “Heck, no. She’s a senior at Fox Hollow High. She’ll graduate in June. Carolyn wants her to go to college but Selena has other ideas. As for Kyle, he’s always been a bit slow. Rumor has it he was flunking out of that fancy school, so Carolyn just yanked him out and hired some fancy private tutors. When he’s not studying, he’s working at the General Store.”

  “That doesn’t sound like much of a life for a teenaged boy,” I said thoughtfully.

  Rita laughed. “I can see the wheels turning in that brain of yours, Shell. You’re wondering if there’s more to the incident, and if Amelia knew about it.”

  “Guilty,” I confessed. “If Kyle had been doing drugs, let’s say, and had been expelled for it, that might be something the mayor would want to keep quiet. And if Amelia found out and was blackmailing her . . .” I let my voice trail off, the implication in the air.

  “True, but I doubt either one of those kids would do drugs. Carolyn would kill them if they did. Kyle was just never a very sociable kid, not like his sister. Sorry, Shell, but if you’re looking for a deep dark secret there, well, I doubt it.”

  “Maybe.” I scraped up the last bite of quiche. “I ran into Garrett Knute after I finished shopping.”

  “Yeah? How is he? I haven’t seen Garrett in a while. Ever since he and Frank split up the business, he kind of keeps his distance.”

  “I take it the dissolution of their partnership wasn’t amicable, then?”

  “Oh, no, it was,” Rita hastened to assure me. “Frank was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis right around the same time Garrett’s uncle died and left him all that money. We sold the business and put our money into Sweet Perks, and we haven’t done all that badly.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “Olivia mentioned you took your husband for treatment for his arthritis, but I didn’t realize how severe his condition must be. Rheumatoid is one of the more crippling, isn’t it?”

  “It is,” she nodded. “RA is a chronic inflammatory type of arthritis. It is also classified as an autoimmune disease. The joint linings are affected most, but it can also affect organs as well. This new doctor has helped Frank a lot, though. She changed his diet, which seemed to help, and so do the weekly massages.” She shook her head. “My husband has a wonderful outlook on life. It’s what’s seen him through this. If it were me, well, I doubt I could be half as cheerful as he is sometimes.” She sighed. “Garrett rarely comes into Sweet Perks, and when he does, it’s usually when I’m not around. Sometimes I think he feels a bit guilty over everything that happened, but there’s no reason why he should. Frank wouldn’t have been able to work much longer anyway.” She chuckled. “It’s more likely he feels guilty over inheriting all that money. He was struggling, just like us, before his uncle died. Now he lives like a king.”

  “Well, he wasn’t very happy with me today. I saw him arguing with Amelia over an envelope outside your shop Saturday, and I told Josh.”

  “Uh-oh.” Rita rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. Josh talked to him, and Garrett thought you implicated him to take the heat off you.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Sounds like Garrett. He always did like jumping to conclusions.” She pursed her lips. “He and Amelia were arguing over an envelope?”

  “Yep. He tried to grab it away from her and she stuffed it in the tote she was carrying. I heard him mutter ‘over my dead body’ before he stalked off.”

  Rita frowned. “That does sound mysterious. I wonder what was in it.”

  I shrugged. “Don’t know. I tried asking him about it, but he said Amelia had nothing on him, and if anyone should be the number-one suspect in her death, it would be Melvin Feller.”

  Rita’s eyes popped, and then she started to laugh. “Melvin? Why on earth would he say that?”

  “I have no idea.” I leaned forward. “Olivia said that this Melvin Feller used to work with your husband and Garrett, and that they fired him.”

  “Well, it was Garrett who fired him,” Rita said. “It was a few months before Frank got sick. We’d gone to Aruba on vacation, and when we came back all hell had broken loose. Garrett had fired Mel. He’d gotten too many complaints about him, he said. Two of their biggest clients got contacted by the IRS over mistakes he’d made, and there was some other stuff too, I don’t really remember. Frank might. The straw that broke the camel’s back was when Garrett decided to check out the college where Mel got his accounting degree; he couldn’t find a mention of it anywhere! Told Mel to pack up his stuff and get out. We never saw Mel much after that, but I guess you can’t blame the guy, right?”

  “Did this Mel Feller have any dealings with Amelia?”

  Rita’s brow furrowed as she thought. “Amelia used to be one of Frank and Garrett’s biggest clients, and your aunt too. Mel never did any of the accounting for either one of them, though. Frank and Garrett always handled the Fox Hollow clients themselves. Amelia and Mel knew each other to say hello to, but that’s as far as it went.”

  “You have no idea why Garrett would think Mel might have something to do with her death?”

  She picked a piece of lint off her sweater. “Honestly? He probably just blurted that out. There’s no love lost between those two. Mel would probably say Garrett should be the number-one suspect. But if you want, I’ll ask Frank about it.”

  I finished my latte and pushed my chair back. “Would you? I’d appreciate it. And if you think of anything else—”

  “Come to think of it.” Rita stood up too. “Garrett used to do the museum accounting, exclusively. That’s how he got on the board.” She reached over and squeezed my hand. “My break’s over. Catch you later.”

  • • •

  Back on the street, I started to head toward my car when I happened to glance up and see the Secondhand Sue’s sign. Impulsively I crossed the street and walked over to peer into its large bay window. The items
displayed weren’t vintage antiques, but they were many and varied. Some were vintage kitsch, like a black and blue Batman lunch box, complete with matching thermos. Others looked as if they were waiting to be given a second chance, like the twin lamp set with bases carved out of rose marble, or the bust of Edgar Allan Poe with a raven beside his head. I’d always liked Poe’s works and his poem “The Raven” had always been one of my favorites. I could visualize that bust behind the counter at the pet shop—which reminded me, I had to call the parakeet breeder and put off our interview. I pushed open the door, intending to price it, when suddenly a brown and tan blur shot past me. The next instant I was down on the floor, being covered in sloppy doggy kisses.

  “Rocco! Down! Where are your manners? Goodness, miss, are you all right?”

  Rocco was pulled back and I found myself considering a woman’s face that reminded me faintly of Josh. Same jawline, same bump on the nose, same hazel-gold eyes. Only instead of dark hair, hers was a light ash blonde, cut into a stylish pixie crop. She wore an expression of concern on her face as she peered down at me.

  Abruptly she pushed the dog into the arms of a young boy who’d come up behind her. “Henry, take him for a walk. He’s definitely got too much energy today.”

  “Wait. I’m fine.” I struggled into a sitting position. “Don’t blame the dog too much. Rocco and I have met before.”

  The woman stared at me. “You have?”

  I nodded. “Yes. Saturday, in the park. He jumped on me then too. Your brother rescued me.”

  Her brow furrowed, then cleared, and her thick lips split in a wide smile. “Oh, goodness! You must be Shell Marlowe! Or is it Shell McMillan?”

  “McMillan.” She helped me stand up, and I brushed at my pants legs. Rocco came up, a bit more subdued now thanks to the leash Henry’d snapped on his collar, and sniffed at my ankles. I grinned wryly. “I guess he remembered me.”