A Mew to a Kill (9 page)

Pandora tried not to let Otis rile her up. Even so, she felt the fur standing up along her spine.
 

“I’ve heard tell of the kitten that survived a fire.” She glanced around the room as more cats came forward. Kelley, the Maine Coon, trotted out from one of the stalls on her left. Inkspot, the large black cat who was their leader, jumped down from the loft, his twenty-two pound girth landing beside her with a soft thud. Snowball appeared next to him, her white fur contrasting with Inkspot’s black like night and day.

“So what?” Otis wrinkled his face.

“Now, Otis, you remember what you promised.” A beautiful, orange curly-haired cat appeared beside Otis. Pandora recognized her as Euphoria, the Selkirk Rex that belonged to Gladys Primble.
 

They’d met Euphoria recently while trying to make sure an important journal was kept away from evil hands. Gladys was the keeper of this journal and, as her cat, Euphoria was also sworn to protect it.
 

Otis purred at Euphoria and Pandora’s stomach churned. She didn’t know what the sweet Selkirk Rex saw in the fat calico, but if it made him act nicer she wasn’t about to question it.

“A kitten? Why do you come to us?” Inkspot’s deep baritone rumbled through the barn.

Pandora flicked a paw behind her ears and sat on her haunches. “I’m not sure, but when I heard the story I got the distinct feeling that we should know more about the kitten. Perhaps we should seek her out and bring her to our circle. If she has the blessings of mystical forces, as it seems from the story, won’t we want to bring her into the fold before the other side gets a hold of her?”

“I might have heard of this kitten.” A voice purred from her right and Pandora turned to see the powder blue eyes of the Siamese cat, Sasha, blinking at her. “Long ago, I heard of a cat that would be very powerful. One that could survive against all odds.”

“Surviving a fire seems like it would be against all odds,” Snowball said.

Inkspot's glowing, green eyes narrowed to slits. “Yes, I think this is something we should pursue. Tell us more about this kitten?”

Pandora’s tail twitched nervously. She didn’t know much more. Should she have tried to get more information before she came to the others? “Well, I suppose she wouldn’t be a kitten anymore. From what I heard, she was saved at the fire in the lumberyard last summer. A human gave its life for this kitten.”

“Last summer?” Otis flicked a piece of straw with his paw. “Why, the kit would be practically grown by now. If it really were special, we would have heard." Otis smirked at her. "Perhaps it is the two-faced cat."

Pandora's fur ruffled, but she held her temper in check. Otis was making fun of her, referring back to a time long ago when they'd been pawing through the ancient scrolls. Pandora had read a reference that she thought said something about a two-faced cat. Otis had laughed at her, saying she'd misread it. There was no such thing as a two-faced cat. Most born with two faces died shortly after birth.

Later on, Pandora had gotten on the internet when Willa had left her laptop open and learned there was only one cat with two faces who had survived until age fifteen. Frank and Louie, his name was. But that cat was dead now. He wasn't the cat from the fire.

"Ha. Ha," Pandora said dryly. "I guess you will never let me live that one down. Anyway, since no one has been able to decipher the scrolls fully, we don't know if there are other references to powerful cats such as the one Sasha remembers."

"Then why have we not heard or seen this cat before?” Otis asked.

“That’s what I don’t understand,” Pandora said. The group took pride in knowing all the cat goings-on in the area. Not all cats had the powers of the society, but the clan liked to know about even the “regular” cats and there was a large network of cats, both mystical and non-mystical that passed information around. With the help of these cats, especially the feral cats who ran wild and were witness to most of the happenings in the Notch, Pandora and her gang knew pretty much everything that was going on. Yet, Pandora had not heard of this kitten. “It’s almost as if something were keeping it from us.”

“Well, who is its human?” Otis's voice held a hint of laughter. Pandora got the impression he was trying to make her look bad in front of everyone by proving how little she knew. “It’s simple enough to find the cat that way.”

“From what I heard, the cat’s real human died in the fire, but now her sister, someone named Brenda, apparently has the cat. She’s very protective of it … maybe she keeps it locked indoors.”

The cats shuddered. None of them liked the thought of being cooped up inside.

“I think this is something we must pursue,” Inkspot commanded. Pandora thought she heard Otis make a tsking sound from his perch above her.

“Who agrees we should seek out this cat?” Inkspot continued with only a slight glare in Otis’s direction.

A chorus of meows sounded in agreement

“Then we must go to this Brenda’s house and see what we can see.” Inkspot trained his glowing eyes on Pandora. “You will find out where she lives.”

“Yes, of course.” Pandora’s heart leapt. She’d felt a tug for this kitten ever since she heard the story and knew they must find her. She wished she’d paid more attention when the humans were talking, though, because if she had, she might know more about Brenda and where she lived. But the humans were so boring, droning on and on. She rarely listened to them.

But now she had a problem. She’d brought the idea to the group and now couldn’t admit she didn’t know how to follow through. It would be embarrassing and the last thing she needed was to give Otis more ammunition he could use to try to make her look foolish.

As she looked up at the smirk on Otis’ face, she wondered how the heck she was going to find out who this Brenda person was and where she lived. She said a silent prayer that Bastet, the goddess of cats, would provide the answer. She made a mental promise to pay more attention to the humans from here on out.

Inkspot faded back into a corner, signaling the end of the meeting, and the other cats went back to their naps. Pandora recognized her cue to leave. She turned and trotted toward the door, flicking her tail up in the air, the kink pointed out like a middle finger and aimed directly at Otis on the way out.

***

Pandora was waiting for me at the edge of the path when I left Elspeth’s. We walked back together, my mind whirling with possibilities. Could Paisley’s mysterious brother be the killer? Why did he live in a homeless shelter? Were he and Paisley on speaking terms? And what about Neil Lane? Was he mad enough to kill?

I put my hands in my pockets and my fingertips brushed against the charm. I debated whether or not to tell Gus and Striker about it. Probably best to keep it to myself for now. I didn’t want to send them in Maisie’s direction. It was ridiculous to think the old woman had killed Paisley.

Back home, I got busy in the kitchen, feeding Pandora and making a snack out of apples, peanut butter and marshmallow fluff. My leg started to throb, letting me know that I had probably overdone it.
 

I took my snack into the living room to relax. Flopping down on the couch, I rested my leg up on the coffee table to ease the pain. Reaching down, I massaged the knot of muscle in my calf and found myself wishing Striker didn’t have to work late. He gave great massages.

“
Meow.
” Pandora jumped up on the couch beside me, eyeing my snack.

I put a little fluff on my finger and held it out to her. She sniffed it for what seemed like five minutes before turning her nose up and giving me a funny look. She turned to leave, then did a double-take, jerking her head in the direction of the middle of the coffee table.

I followed her gaze and noticed the glass orb on the coffee table, a gift from Elspeth, was reflecting light from the kitchen. It must have caught the light just right and was glowing an iridescent yellow. Pandora seemed mesmerized by it. She leaped up onto the table, meowing loudly and staring into its depths.

“You won’t find anything good in there,” I said to her.

“
Merow!
” She sounded like she disagreed.

I ignored her and went back to my line of thinking. My suspect list was growing and I needed to question Neil and Paisley’s brother. What motives would her brother have had, though? I could see Neil’s motives now that Elspeth had mentioned it. He had twenty grand to lose. I knew he was reputed to be reclusive and unsociable, but was he a killer?

And what about the brother? Why did he live in a homeless shelter? Were he and Paisley in contact with each other, or had they had a falling out?

I thought back to the events of the day. I hadn’t gotten any clues by watching them investigate the crime scene out my window. Gus and Striker had been less than helpful, but Jimmy had mentioned something about a final picture that Paisley took. Had she gotten off a shot of her killer?

What I really wanted was to prove that George did it. I had a pretty strong feeling about him which reminded me that we needed to get into Paisley’s house. We might be able to find those pictures which would incriminate George and there might be other evidence in there as well. We needed to talk to Opal—she might know something useful. Maybe she even had a spare key to Paisley’s place, just like I had to Pepper's. Hopefully, she would be willing to cooperate with us once we told her we were trying to help find her friend’s killer.

I limped back into the kitchen to get my phone and was happy to discover a text from Pepper.

Got a lead on Opal u free tmrw night at 8?

I happily thumbed my reply.
Yep
.

Tomorrow night couldn’t come soon enough.

Chapter Nine

The next day, I went in early hoping to question Paisley’s ghost about her brother. I was rearranging the books in the fashion section, waiting for her to pop in when Bing, Josiah, Hattie and Cordelia came in.
 

“Hi, Willa.” Hattie peeked down the aisle and waved at me. I noticed she was wearing a light blue flowered shirt and old lady jeans. She lifted a Styrofoam cup. “We brought coffee for you.”

I trotted to the front, joining them on the sofas. Hattie leaned in front of Cordelia, who was wearing a matching flowered shirt in pink and identical old lady jeans, to slide the cup across the coffee table toward me.
 

“Any news on the goings-on across the street?” Bing asked.

I shook my head, peeling back the plastic tab on the cover of the Styrofoam cup and taking a sip. “Nope. What’s the word on the grapevine?” I raised my brows at Hattie and Cordelia.

Like most small towns, Mystic Notch had a rather active grapevine and my regulars, especially the Deering sisters, were right in the middle of it.

“We haven’t heard a thing.” Hattie looked disappointed. “We were hoping you might know something.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know anything about the fire or Paisley’s death. But I did find out something interesting last night. Did you know Paisley had a brother?”

“A brother?” Hattie turned to look at Cordelia. “Did you know that, Sister?”

Cordelia shook her head. “No. Paisley hasn’t been in town that long, so I don’t know her family. She’s a newcomer.”

Bing’s bushy brows knit together. “Wait a minute. I think I remember meeting her brother at the veterans’ meeting. Ken is his name. He was in the army. As I recall, he was affected terribly by the war. PTSD. I don’t know much about him, though. He didn’t seem like he was going to stick around town.”

“Elspeth said he was in the homeless shelter.” My heart clenched. I hated myself for suspecting him. He was a military veteran, for crying out loud.

Cordelia’s forehead wrinkled. “I think I remember something about him and that fire last year. The one during the Founder’s Day parade. I think he was a suspect for a while, but it turned out it wasn’t him.”

Bing nodded. “That’s right. He worked at the lumberyard and was chummy with Amanda.”

“You don’t think the brother had something to do with it, do you?” Josiah asked as if he could read my mind. “What motive would he have? Unless maybe he likes to light fires.”

“I don’t know. That brings up a good question. What
was
the motive?”

Hattie glanced over at the photography store. “Well, George Witt might have had a motive. If he wanted to keep Paisley quiet.”

“That’s right. We heard you tell Gus you saw George and Paisley arguing and … well …” Cordelia’s cheeks flushed. “Practically everyone in town knows there was something going on between them.”

“And let’s not forget about Neil Lane,” Bing added. “He might have had a motive.”

“Yeah, money,” Josiah said. “He needs it.”

“How do you know that?” I wondered.

“I was in the post office yesterday playing checkers with Minot Ring and Neil pulled up in that clunker of his. It was making some strange noises, grinding and then making a cha-chug. Sounded like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I was surprised he could start it up when he left. Anyway, I reckon he needs money to fix that car. That twenty thousand dollar grand prize would probably be like a million to him.”