A Mew to a Kill (13 page)

I wondered how long it would be before they could get the data from the camera and whose picture would be on it. I had to work fast if I wanted to prove that the killer was George before they started looking in Maisie’s direction.

Chapter Twelve

By the time we left
The Embers,
it was too late to go to Paisley’s house, even though we were incredibly tempted because Opal had told us where Paisley hid the extra key. But we didn’t want to be seen skulking around there in the dark, so we dropped off a drunken Opal at her house and went our separate ways.

I went straight home after picking Pandora up at the bookstore. She was none too happy and proceeded to glare at me sullenly the entire ride home. She did not like being locked in the bookstore because there was no cat door for her to escape from.

Driving home, I had the feeling someone was following me, but I took a side street and the car drove by. Just paranoid, I guess.

When we got home, Pandora plopped herself in front of her food bowl and stared at me until I found a can of tuna in the cabinet and popped it open.

“Sorry, I know you like to be fed earlier but I had important business.” I put a little tuna in her bowl to appease her, but she still looked at me with accusatory eyes before digging in.

I leaned against the counter with a fork in the can of tuna and thought about what I had learned earlier. It had taken me a while to get over the shock of seeing Gus dressed up and playing the piano, but now that I thought about it, I realized it was quite a coup. This little hobby was information I could use to my advantage, but I knew I had to be judicious about it.

More importantly, though, I had learned that the camera I’d seen the police putting in the evidence bag potentially had a picture of the killer on it. The last picture that Paisley ever took. I wondered who was in the picture and if the police would be able to recover the data.
 

Even if they did, would the picture necessarily prove anything? Just because she might have taken a picture of someone didn’t mean they were the killer. Would the picture be enough evidence to arrest someone? I wasn’t sure if they would be able to prove that the picture was of the killer even if they could get the timestamp and correlate it to Paisley’s time of death.

Which made me realize—I didn’t really know when Paisley had died or exactly how. Had she died in the fire or been killed some other way? Maybe the killer wanted to burn her body to obscure the method of death so the police would have less evidence. Or, maybe she’d died of smoke inhalation. Maybe the killer hadn’t intended for her to die at all.

And that brought me to our suspects. Maybe the killer really was Paisley’s brother, but he’d killed her by accident. He certainly had something to hide at the halfway house, but why would he want to set fire to the shop? That didn’t make sense.
 

I could see that he might have wanted to steal something from the shop, like money from the cash register or maybe something of value, but I couldn’t figure out why he would set the fire. Unless it was to hide evidence of the break-in. Maybe he wanted Paisley to think that whatever he stole was destroyed in the fire. But then why would he send her a note asking her to meet him?

Then there was Neil Lane. He’d been confrontational when we went to visit him, but we
did
show up on his doorstep unannounced and he wasn't known for his social skills. Paisley had taken his spot in the art show, but was that enough to kill someone?

I finished the tuna and tossed my fork in the sink. Pandora stared up at me expectantly, her eyes forming golden-green slits.
 

“Sorry, the tuna’s all gone.” I tossed the can in the trash.
 

“
Meow
.” Pandora flicked her head toward the front of the house where the stairs were.
 

“Yes, we’re going to bed now.” I checked to make sure the cat door was locked. I left it open during the day for Pandora to come and go as she pleased, but I didn’t need any creatures getting into the house at night, nor did I need Pandora getting out. It could be dangerous for a cat out in the woods of the White Mountains at night.

Pandora followed me upstairs and watched me brush my teeth.
 

“I still think George is the killer. He would have a lot to lose if Paisley showed anyone the pictures she had,” I said around a mouthful of toothbrush.

Pandora blinked at me as if in agreement.

“Plus, I don’t really like him and I’m kind of hoping he
is
the killer.” I put the toothbrush away and proceeded to the bedroom where I got into the knee-length, cat print T-shirt that I wore to bed. “I sure don’t want to think that it was Maisie. Even though turpentine was used to start the fire, that doesn’t prove anything. Lots of people can get a hold of turpentine.”

“Meooo.” Pandora’s whiskers twitched. I was sure that meant that she didn’t want to think it was Maisie, either.

I pushed the sheets back and got into bed, fluffing up the pillow and lying on my back to stare at the ceiling. “And there was the ‘other man’ that Opal talked about. What if Paisley was blackmailing him, too?”

Pandora jumped up on the bed and crouched on my stomach, her green eyes staring at me like glowing orbs in the dark.
 

“I need to ask Paisley’s ghost who this other guy was.” I yawned and flipped over on my side. Pandora let out an annoyed ‘mew’ as I dislodged her from the cushion of my stomach. My leg was starting to ache and I reached down to massage it while Pandora hopped on the other side of me and curled up on the bed, still staring at me with those green eyes. Her stare was a little disconcerting, but her loud purr was comforting. I had to admit it was nice to have someone watch over me as I slept, even if it was just my cat.

***

Pandora thought Willa would never fall asleep. She'd even tried her most hypnotizing stare and her most meditative purr. Finally, the human drifted off and Pandora could focus on the task at hand.

She scurried to the basement, saying a silent prayer of thanks to the cat God, Bastet, that Willa had left the basement door open so she could access her secret exit route to the outdoors. She didn't dare use it until Willa was tucked in for the night for fear the human would discover it and block it off in some misguided attempt to keep her safe.
 

Pandora headed north. She knew exactly where to go because she'd seen the route in the orb that sat on the coffee table—the one that Willa still thought was a paperweight. Pandora chuckled, remembering how Willa would frown at the globe when it would present information as if she was wondering where the odd reflections were coming from. Her human still had a lot to learn.

She traveled silently through the darkness. Clouds covered the moon, but she didn't need its light—her nighttime vision was extraordinary. She probably should have told the others of her mission but she couldn't stand the thought of Otis getting the upper hand. He'd already tried to cast doubt on her story of the kitten and she wanted to check things out for herself and make sure the kitten did exist before she brought the others there.
 

It took almost forty minutes to reach her destination, but she didn't mind. She loved running free, working her muscles hard and feeling the fresh air on her whiskers. She was careful to keep to the edge of the woods. She didn't want to go too deep and risk a run-in with one of the many predators that roamed the mountains, nor did she want to be too close to the traffic. Not that there was much of that in the middle of the night in Mystic Notch.

Finally, the house she'd seen in the orb appeared. It was large—a cape with a garage attached to it by a breezeway in the middle. She heightened her senses as she approached the house, sniffing the breeze. Did she smell a cat? There was definitely something in the air … and it seemed to be coming from the breezeway.

Cautiously, she approached, sticking to the shadows of the bushes. She peered in through the screen, her heart jumping when a green eye blinked at her out of the darkness.

"Hello," it whispered. "Who are you?"

"I'm Pandora … are you the cat that survived the fire?"

"Yesssssss."
 

Pandora moved closer, pressing her face against the screen to get a better look at the cat who was crouched back in the corner behind a box. All she could see was one green eye.
 

"What is your name?" Pandora asked.

"They call me Hope," the cat replied. "I heard you would come, but we don't have much time."

Hope glanced around nervously which made Pandora feel nervous, especially after the cat said something so ominous as 'we don't have much time'.

Pandora cut to the chase. "I heard the story about the fire and I came to see you. I have some friends that might want you to join our group. Can you come out and join me?"

"I cannot leave, but I have something that might be of value to you."

Pandora was perplexed. "Can't leave? Why? Does your human not let you outside?"

"It's not so much that, it's more—"

"What is going on here?" a voice behind Pandora demanded. The voice itself was not particularly menacing, but Pandora felt a dark force coming from its direction. She turned and came face to face with the fluffiest, whitest Persian cat she'd ever seen.

"Who are you?" Pandora asked.

"I might ask the same. You are trespassing"

"Trespassing?" Pandora glanced at Hope, who had shrunk back into her corner.
 

"Who sent you?" The white cat studied her with eyes that were such a light amber color, they were almost orange. As Pandora stared at the eyes, they seemed to glow. Her fur stood on end.
 

She feigned ignorance. "What? I was just out for a walk and came across this house."

The amber eyes slitted. "I don't think so. You will go now—your power is weak. You won’t take her."

What the heck? Pandora had no idea what was going on, but as she met the Persian's gaze, she did feel like she was getting weak. It was almost as if the amber-eyed cat was draining her. Something dangling above the cat caught her eye. A spider.

The Persian saw her looking. "That trick won’t work."

"It's no trick." Pandora's eyes widened. The spider was big. And it was aiming for the Persian's head.

The spider touched down and the Persian's eyes flew upwards as it felt the creature on its head. One thin spider leg dangled down over the Persian's eye and the cat hissed, humping its back and jumping sideways. Then it leaped into the air, twisting its whole body as it came back down.

"Get it off, get it off!" the Persian yowled as it gave the spider the ride of its life.
 

"Pssst… hurry, we don't have much time. The only thing he fears is spiders, but he will cast it off soon," Hope said.

Pandora turned to the porch and saw Hope pushing something out of the corner with her paw. A purple Sharpie.
 

"What's that?"

"You will find out soon enough. Now you must go before Fluff regains himself. He is more powerful than you know."

Fluff? The menacing white cat was named Fluff? The name fit his appearance, but both were an odd disconnect to the evil power that Pandora could feel radiating from him. Clever, she thought. Who would suspect that evil could come in such a package?
 

"Hurry!" Hope insisted. Probably a good idea, Pandora was no match for Fluff. She'd have to come back with the others. Surely they would be strong enough to get the better of the persnickety Persian.

She turned back to Hope, looking down at the purple sharpie. She had no idea what it meant. Was she supposed to take it? How would she get it off the porch?

As if Hope knew what she was thinking, she came forward and put her paw on the pen, drawing it back toward the corner. But as she did, her face came closer to the screen and Pandora got a good look at her.

With heart-jolting clarity, Pandora realized why she'd only seen one green eye peering at her from the corner. Hope had a perfectly-shaped cat face, but the coloring was odd. It was divided evenly right down the center of her nose—one side was jet black with a green eye, the other side an orange tiger stripe with a blue eye.
 

Hope was a chimera—a type of cat that was sometimes referred to as a two-faced cat.

Chapter Thirteen

The next day, I had a hard time getting Pandora out of bed, which I thought was odd because we’d both gone to bed early. Surely she’d gotten enough sleep? Maybe she’d stayed up all night staring at me.

She barely ate breakfast and didn’t trot out to the car with me as usual. In fact, it seemed like she wanted me to go to the shop without her. She even protested when I carried her to the car. I’d have to watch her carefully. I hoped she wasn’t getting sick.

The regulars were too busy to do much more than drop off a coffee and exchange a short greeting. They all had things to do, which was fine by me. I had plenty of work to catch up on from closing early the night before.