A Tale of Two Tabbies (8 page)

“It seems Miranda has her heart set on Sydney. If he does become eligible for adoption will you call me?”

“Absolutely.”

Miranda and her grandmother left and I called Finn’s cell, but he didn’t pick up. He was most likely talking to Cliff. I left a message, asking if he had any information on Theresa’s next of kin or the possible existence of a will. In my heart I knew Miranda and Sydney were meant to be together, and I was going to do everything in my power to make certain that happened.

The rest of the day flew by as the crowd we’d been expecting arrived. Tara and I were happy but exhausted as we locked the doors and reconciled the cash drawer.

“This has to be the best day we’ve had since Christmas,” I commented as Tara counted the money.

“By far. I have to say I’m relived the sale went so well. We managed to keep up with all our bills, but just barely. If the slow season had dragged on much longer I don’t know what we would have done.”

“We would have figured something out,” I assured my best friend.

“Yeah, I guess we would have. By the way, I was going to tell you that Lovie Bird was in today. We got to chatting about Theresa’s murder and, like Carissa, she didn’t seem all that upset. It almost made me wonder if she wasn’t one of the five.”

I thought about the codes. “None of them began with LB.”

“That’s true,” Tara conceded. “Maybe she really is just happy that she’ll finally be able to rent a locker at the bowling alley.”

“A locker?”

“Lovie told me there’s a waiting list and she’s next in line. I guess Theresa was the owner of one of the lockers and now that she’s deceased it should become available.” Tara frowned. “You don’t think…?”

I looked at the list. One of the codes was MHMB241-0668. “MB could stand for Madrona Bowl.”

I decided to call down to the bowling alley to see if my good friend Benny King was working the counter that day. If he was I’d be able to confirm that Theresa had rented one of the lockers.

“Yep,” Benny said after he answered the phone and I asked my question. “Theresa rents a locker. Or at least she did before she died. Number 241. I’m guessing someone will be by to clear out her stuff.”

“Yeah, I’m sure someone will. Thanks for your help.”

I hung up the phone and looked at Tara. “Locker 241 is assigned to Theresa.”

“Are you going to try to access it?”

“Heck yeah.”

“But you don’t have the combination.”

I looked at the code. “What do you want to bet the locker has one of those four digit codes and 0668 will open it?”

“I guess it’s worth a try. I’d come with you, but I have a date.”

“A date? With who?”

“Grant Reed.”

Grant was the new leader for St. Patrick’s high school group. Tara was in charge of the children’s programs, so they’d worked together on a few projects.

“I knew you were friends, but I didn’t know you were dating.”

“We aren’t. Or at least we haven’t been. This is our first date. I think.”

“What do you mean, ‘you think’?”

“We’ve met to discuss the church programs, but when he asked me if I wanted to go to dinner tonight it felt different. He didn’t specifically say the word
date
, but the way he asked the question felt sort of datelike.”

“Dinner out on a Saturday night is most definitely a date. Have a wonderful time and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Tara grinned. “Don’t worry, I won’t. It’s just a first date.”

“I’ll fill you in on the locker situation tomorrow.”

After we locked up, Tara went home to change and I headed to the bowling alley. Luckily, the place was packed with leagues, so it was easy to slip past Benny and make my way to the locker room, which I conveniently found to be deserted. Apparently my timing was good because the leagues had started a half hour earlier and everyone who had to get their equipment from their locker had already done so.

It only took me a few minutes to find locker 241 and a few seconds more to find out that 0668 did indeed open the locker. The evidence I found inside, however, would keep me reeling for the rest of the night.

I returned to my cabin, let Max out for a run, and then lit a fire, poured myself a glass of wine, and considered the contents of the locker. Inside there had been a single envelope that contained a dozen photos, taken at least six months earlier. The photos showed my very own Aunt Maggie with none other than the love of her life, Michael Kilian.

The photos—which, based on the background, were taken in the fall—weren’t improper, exactly, but they were intimate. One photo showed Aunt Maggie and Father Kilian walking hand in hand on the beach. He was dressed in casual jeans and a sweater and he looked so very different than he did when dressed in his priestly garb.

Another photo showed them sitting at a table looking at a photo album and laughing. There was one of them sitting side by side on a sofa looking in the direction of the camera. I suppose they could have been watching television. Although the photos were very much G-rated, anyone who saw them would come to the same conclusion I had: Maggie’s mystery trips had actually been rendezvous with our local priest.

How could she? How could they?

I tucked the photos back into the envelope and wondered what I should do with them. The MH in MHMB241-0668 obviously stood for Maggie Hart. Why hadn’t I seen that before? Probably because I never in a million years expected that Maggie would do something bad enough to get her blackmailed.

I looked at the photo of the codes and payments I’d taken from the ledger. It looked like Maggie had made five payments. I remembered the first time she’d disappeared, back in October, and realized that was when the photos must have been taken. The main question in my mind was why Maggie would confess to a secret getaway with Father Kilian to him. She wouldn’t. Which left me to wonder how it was that Theresa knew about the meeting ahead of time so she was able to be there to get the photos. The whole thing made no sense.

After quite a bit of debate with myself I decided to hide the photos until Maggie returned and I could ask her about them. Tara would most likely ask me in the morning what had been in the locker, and I knew I’d have to lie and say it was empty, which did make me feel bad. But still…The fact that Maggie and Father Kilian had been taking off on what could only be romantic getaways would rock the entire community if word of them slipped out.

I tried to imagine what Maggie and Father Kilian were up to and why after all these years they’d decided to sneak around, but every answer I came up with was unpleasant, so I set my concerns aside and focused on something else. I did, after all, still have a murder to solve.

I had to believe that Maggie hadn’t killed Theresa, which meant that if our theory was accurate and her killer was one of her victims, the killer, by default, must be VW. The question was, who was VW and where was the evidence against VW hidden?

With the exception of hiding the evidence against Tom Osborn in a shoe box, Theresa had utilized lockers around the island. We’d already discovered evidence in lockers at the high school, the community center, and the bowling alley. I tried to think about other locations in town where lockers could be found. We’d discussed the fact that the new gym had lockers, but we’d also talked about the fact that it was unlikely Theresa had had a membership. Besides, the clue was SP and the name of the gym was Bodies in Motion. It didn’t seem to fit.

Being an island, Madrona didn’t have a bus or train terminal. There had been employee lockers in the old cannery before Tara and I’d bought it, but we’d taken them out when we remodeled. It seemed to me that there had been lockers at the ferry terminal left over from the days when it was used to offload fish, but I was pretty sure they had been taken out as well.

I tried to remember if there were lockers at Harthaven Marina. It was still a working marina and local fishermen still docked there, so I supposed there could be lockers somewhere on the property, although I couldn’t think where they’d be. The other problem was that Harthaven Marina didn’t begin with the letters SP. About a decade ago there had been a restaurant on the north shore of the island named Seafood Palace, but it had burned to the ground several years ago and I doubted that lockers, if there ever had been any, would have survived.

SP. I rolled the letters around in my mind. The letter combination felt familiar, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t think of a single place beginning with SP that might have lockers. Seal Point had an observation area, but I couldn’t remember any lockers. They had put in picnic benches in an effort to create more of a parklike atmosphere, so I supposed they could have added lockers for some reason. I hadn’t actually been there in years, but I could take a drive over to the east shore after lunch at my mother’s the following day. If the weather held it would actually be a pleasant drive as long as my car didn’t die on the way.

I looked at the two cats, who were curled up together on the sofa. They were no longer fighting, but they hadn’t really done all that much to help either. I supposed Sydney had helped some, but Lucie hadn’t contributed a single thing.

“Can I get a little help here?” I asked aloud.

Max barked, but the cats looked up, then went back to sleep.

I sat down on the sofa, leaned my head back, and closed my eyes. God, I was tired. I hadn’t slept well since Cody had shared his upsetting news and I had a feeling a good night’s sleep wasn’t on the horizon until things worked their way out one way or the other. Having the investigation to focus on was helping, but even that seemed to have hit a dead end. How hard could it be to find lockers in a location with the initials SP?

“Smith Packing,” I said out loud to no one in particular. Smith Packing had been closed down for almost five years, but before it had gone under it was a large packing plant that employed quite a lot of people. It made sense that the plant would provide lockers for their employees. The plant was on the other side of the island, so it was a little late to check it out tonight. But tomorrow, tomorrow I’d take a drive to check out both Seal Point and Smith Packing. It stood to reason that one of the two locations held the final secret in the puzzle I was desperately trying to piece together.

I realized I was starving; I never had eaten lunch. I was trying to decide between cereal and takeout when my phone rang.

“Cody?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

He sounded tired. More than tired. Defeated.

“Is everything okay?” Though, based on the tone of his voice, everything didn’t sound okay.

“Everything is fine. I just missed you and wanted to hear your voice.”

“Oh. I’m glad you called.” It felt odd that Cody and I were having such a stilted conversation. We were usually so comfortable and casual with each other. “I missed you too.”

“Is this not a good time?” Cody asked. Apparently he was picking up the same weird vibe I was.

“Of course it’s a good time. Any time is a good time,” I assured him. “I just didn’t expect to hear from you until Monday. I guess when I did hear from you I was surprised, and my natural reaction was to assume that something must be wrong.”

“I wasn’t sure if I’d have the opportunity to call and I didn’t want to make promises I couldn’t keep, so I didn’t bring it up when we spoke before I left. We’re done for the day and it’s still early, so I thought I’d call to see how you were doing. Besides, I’ve been going crazy not being able to see you. I guess my tendency is to worry about all the little things that could happen.”

“Well, you worried for nothing. I’m great.” Okay, not so great. In fact, I was totally freaked out with everything that had happened that evening, but I didn’t want to worry Cody, so I kept my freak-out to myself. “How are things going with you?”

“Good. I think.” I heard Cody sigh. I could picture him running his hands through his hair. “Actually, I’m not sure. The committee seems interested in my ideas, but they haven’t made a formal request for me to take things further. They asked me to leave the room at the end of our session today, but they all stayed to talk, so I imagine they’re discussing it among themselves and will let me know tomorrow.”

“I’m sure they’ll vote to follow through with your ideas. You have really good ideas. I’m sure if you want an opportunity to implement your plan they’ll have no choice but to grant it.”

“Yeah, I guess. To be honest, I’m not even sure if I want them to make the offer. Part of me really wants the opportunity to bring my ideas into reality and part of me just wants to go home and pick up with my old life exactly where I left off.”

“Yeah, I get that. I guess I feel the same way. I want you to have the opportunity if you want it, but I don’t want you to leave. I know this conversation has been awkward for some reason, but I do miss you. So much. I can’t imagine not having you here every day. I guess I’m being selfish, but I want to spend all the moments of my life with you, not just a select few. On the other hand, if your plan will save lives, how can you turn down the opportunity to do whatever it is you need to do?”

Cody let out a long breath that sounded more like a sigh.

“I did bring up to the committee the fact that I’d recently purchased and updated the newspaper, and that leaving the island for any length of time would be difficult at best. I’m hoping maybe if they decide to go with my curriculum we can work out an alternative to my spending a year in Tampa.”

“Do you think that’s a possibility?”

“Honesty, I’m not sure. I guess my ability to bargain will depend on how badly they want to explore my idea. I really just have a wait-and-see attitude.”

I wasn’t sure what to say at that point, so I stayed silent. I wanted to be brave for Cody, and for my country, but at that moment I was feeling anything but brave.

“So how’s your investigation going?” Cody asked to break the silence.

I filled him in on everything I’d discovered so far, except for the photos of Maggie and Father Kilian. I found I wasn’t ready to share those with anyone other than Maggie herself until I understood exactly what they meant. Cody offered a few insights about the case and we exchanged ideas until we both realized we’d run out of things to consider.

“Have you talked to Mr. Parsons?”

“No,” I admitted. “I’ve been really busy, but I thought I’d pop over there tonight to see how he’s doing. In fact, I was just headed in that direction when you called.”

None of that was actually true, but I wished it was because I really had meant to check in with my elderly neighbor.

“Does he know why you’re out of town?” I wondered.

“I told him that I had a meeting at Kitsap, but I didn’t mention the rest. I didn’t want to worry him until I knew for sure what I was going to do. It’s going to be hard on him if I leave.”

Cody was right about that. Mr. Parsons really had grown to depend on him.

“If you do make it over it might be best if you avoid the subject altogether,” Cody suggested.

“Okay, I will. We’ll probably just sit together and watch reruns anyway. That seems to be what he likes to do most evenings.”

“The man does like his television,” Cody agreed. “I guess I should hang up so you can head over there like you planned.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“I love you.”

My eyes filled with tears. “I love you too.”

As I promised I would, once I washed my face and got my emotions under control, Max and I headed down the beach toward Mr. Parsons’s. Like Francine, Mr. Parsons had been Maggie’s neighbor my entire life. The peninsula where the three neighbors lived had been divided equally between three of Madrona Island’s Founding Fathers. The three large estates had been handed down from one generation to the next, and none of these founding families had sold as many of the others on the island had. The three estates were currently owned by three single people, none with children of their own, so it was hard to imagine what would happen in the next generation.

Mr. Parsons had expressed his wish that Cody take over as owner of his property when he passed. Although the property would technically leave Mr. Parsons’s family for the first time in generations, Cody was a home-grown islander who would cherish the property for its intrinsic worth and not just its monetary value.

I’m not sure what Maggie intended to do with her third of the peninsula, although I’m sure she’ll leave it to one of the Hart offspring. If I had to guess I’d say she’ll leave her estate to either Aiden, my oldest brother, or Siobhan.

As for Francine, her husband had passed years earlier and she’d never remarried or had children, and she had no siblings, so I really had no idea where her property might end up.

I knocked on Mr. Parsons’s door, then opened it just a bit. “Mr. Parsons?” I called. “It’s Cait and Max. Is it okay to come in?”

I took a step inside when I didn’t hear an answer. “Mr. Parsons?” I called again.

I could hear the television on in the sitting room, so perhaps he didn’t hear me, though Rambler did. The dog ran down the hall to greet us, alerting Mr. Parsons to the presence of someone else in the house.

“Who’s there?”

“It’s Cait, Mr. Parsons.”

“Well, don’t lollygag; come on in.”

I walked into the room, which featured not only a television turned up much too loud but the remnants of microwaved dinners. Cody made sure he ate real food when he was there; I should have come by and done so as well.