The Cat Sitter's Whiskers (21 page)

I closed my eyes and shook my head slowly.

Most of the time I go around thinking the entire world and everything in it revolves around me, but now I was beginning to think I'd let my imagination run right off the tracks. It was obvious. Levi's death had absolutely nothing to do with me or my masked attacker or stolen figurines or anything else that had happened in the Kellers' house. Levi's death had been nothing more than the result of coldhearted sibling rivalry—pure and simple.

I said, “So … these stepbrothers, let me guess—they're named in Levi's father's will.”

“You don't know them, do you?”

I thought,
I sure as hell hope not.
“Who are they?”

“Paul Radcliff. He lives just outside Bradenton with his girlfriend, I don't know much more about him yet, but I'm meeting him today. The other man's name is Ruben. He lives here in Sarasota. I believe he's a student at State College.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “No. I've never heard of them.”

“And their mother, Abina Radcliff?”

“Sorry, no. I don't know her, either.”

“I'm curious. Did Mona tell you
why
she lied about Levi?”

I nodded. “Yeah. It was so her grandmother wouldn't worry about her. She's apparently quite ill and she's afraid Mona won't be able to take care of herself after she passes away. Frankly, after spending a little time with Mona this morning, I can't really blame her.”

McKenzie sighed. “I believe I'd better have a talk with Mona's grandmother. Dixie, you seem to have a talent for drawing things out of people.”

I said, “Tell me about it. Plus, Mona's not very fond of cops.”

“Yes. I got that impression. Do you know if she's aware that Levi's father killed himself?”

“I'm not sure, but she definitely knew about his money. That was the main reason she lied. She wanted her grandmother to think she'd be rich one day.”

There was a long pause. I could almost hear McKenzie thinking over the phone, and I wondered if she was considering the same thing I was. This whole time, I'd thought the only person who might have been in a position to get Levi's inheritance was Mona, but now with Levi's stepbrothers in the mix …

McKenzie said, “Dixie … if Ms. Duffy contacts you again, I want you to call me right away.”

I said, “Um, okay, of course…”

“I don't want to alarm you, but I don't think she should be trusted.”

“You don't think she's a suspect, do you?”

She sighed. “Before your call, no. But now…”

“Wait, I don't understand.”

“I would hope you wouldn't. Unfortunately, it's my job to think like a murderer. Levi's stepbrothers are indeed named in their father's will, but only as contingent beneficiaries.”

Now it was her turn to pause for dramatic effect, but unfortunately my legalese is a bit rusty. I said, “I have no idea what that means.”

“Their mother comes from a very wealthy family herself, so it means they were set for life with or without their father's riches. Levi, on the other hand…”

My jaw dropped open. “Wait. You mean Levi was the sole inheritor?”

“He was. But now it all goes to his stepbrothers. It's to be divided among them equally.”

“So Mona was right to suspect them.”

“Perhaps, except until now I hadn't considered … well, I don't know about you, but if I was going to kill a man who stood to inherit his father's fortune, I think I might wait until after I was married to him. When I thought she and Levi were engaged, I considered his murder to be counterproductive to her motives.”

I felt my heart sink. “But if she wasn't after his money, why would you suspect her at all?”

There was a pause. “You said it yourself. She loved him.”

Just then I heard the familiar clang of the bridge-keeper's bell up ahead as the bridge began its slow descent down.

“Dixie, I'm sure I don't need to tell you that, in the heat of passion, people can be moved to consider all kinds of terrible things … things they'd never dream of doing in their right mind.”

I turned the key in the ignition of the Bronco and nodded slowly as I raised my seat back in place.

I said, “Good point.”

 

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.