Kitty Litter Killer (4 page)

“What is that?” I asked.

Hayley looked around at me then up and down the hall. “I think that was Mr. Chang Lee.”

“Mr. Chang Lee?” I pictured a Chinese cook suffering an acute case of appendicitis.

“Yes. My retired champion Siamese. He’s the first cat I ever bought. I guess he got out of his room. He’s an escape artist.”

“Is he sick?”

She stared at me with raised brows. “Sick?”

“He sounds like he’s dying.”

She laughed. “Heavens, no. That’s just the way Siamese cats talk.”

My stomach clenched. “Do they all sound like that?”

“To one degree or another. Some are more vocal than others.” She laughed again. “Listen, watch yourself. Mr. Lee doesn’t like most adults except me. He’s cool with kids, though, which is kind of weird.”

Nervous, I glanced around. “What will he do?”

“Sometimes he attacks people’s legs. He’s gotten my husband, Leighton, several times, but they’ve learned to avoid each other. I try to keep Mr. Lee locked up when strangers are here.”

Sammie giggled. I wasn’t amused. While she chatted with Hayley, I was on the lookout for an attack cat. Then I glanced up at the cat on the bookshelf. Would it leap down on my head as I walked by? It opened its mouth and yowled.

The noises of the cats rattled my brain. Strange for someone who easily tuned out the complaining of an almost-toddler. What if the kitten Sammie picked out was the most vocal of the litter?

I felt something bump up against my leg. I jumped back and looked down into the bluest cat eyes I’d ever seen. The animal had materialized out of nowhere. It looked up at me, opened its mouth, and wailed.

Hayley turned. “Ah, there he is. Mr. Lee.” She paused and stared speculatively at me. “Wow, Trish. You’re special. He likes you. I’ve never known that to happen before.” She leaned down and scratched his head. “Oh, my wittle kitty,” she murmured. “You mama’s baby boy, honey bunny?”

I thought I might be sick. Mr. Lee purred.

“Kitty’s messy wessy,” Hayley said and then straightened and looked at me. “Mr. Lee tends to spread cat litter all over. I’m not sure why. It annoys my husband.”

It would annoy me, too. Mr. Lee began rubbing his face on my ankles. There was indeed cat litter on the floor.

Great. I hoped our new cat didn’t have the same habit. I gently tried to shove him away with my foot, but he stuck like glue, and I was afraid to push the issue, given what Hayley said about his attack tendencies. “Being liked isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” I mumbled at her.

Hayley laughed. “Oh, wow. You really are funny. Angelica tells me that all the time. Now I understand what she means.” She looked down at Sammie. “Okay, now let’s go pick out your kitten.”

I didn’t think Hayley had the right idea about what my mother-in-law meant when she said I was funny, but I wasn’t going to explain.

“Angelica is one of the nicest people I know,” Hayley said over her shoulder. “She’s been good to me. We play tennis regularly. It’s just like her to do something sweet like buy a kitten for Sammie.”

I wanted to ask her if she had the right Angelica. But she did, of course. Hayley was the kind of woman my mother-in-law had wanted Max to marry. The kind of woman he was married to the first time around. When he married me, Angelica wasn’t happy and had always let me know I wasn’t quite good enough, thus leading to our present impasse.

On my truly honest days, I admitted to myself that though Angelica’s attitude bothered me, I did crave a better relationship with her, but I was clueless as to how to go about getting it.

The cat kept wrapping himself between my feet, and I was having trouble walking.

“Cacacacaca,” Chris said, staring at the cat and beating in rhythm with his heel on my leg.

“He’s adorable,” Hayley said. “I really want children. . . but. . .anyway, maybe someday.”

She sounded so wistful that I couldn’t help but wonder why they hadn’t had any.

We finally reached the back of the house and entered what might have been a family room or a great room— emphasis on “great.” Mr. Lee was still pasted to my ankles, but I was momentarily distracted from his attentions by the floor-to-ceiling windows and French doors that covered the wall in front of me. Doors framed by long, striped, sateen curtains led outside to a pool. Well, pool is too mundane a word to describe what I saw. This was an artistic creation. Abstract shape, rocks, a waterfall, and a Jacuzzi. I was wowed.

“Mommy, look!” Sammie squealed. “What a pretty pond.”

“Swimming pool,” I murmured.

Chris squirmed in my arms. “Down,” he said firmly, using one of five words he says very clearly.

“No,” I told him with an equally firm tone. That was one of his other words, and he learned it from me.

“But it’s got rocks,” Sammie said. “How can it be a pool?”

“That’s part of the decorating.” Hayley was staring out the windows. “We just had that put in.”

“It’s beautiful.” As Chris squirmed in my arms, I thought how nice it would be to have a Jacuzzi to relax in and a pool for the kids.

“I’ve always wanted one,” Hayley said. She pointed to a stack of shiny house-decorating magazines and books sitting next to a leaded-glass vase filled with red roses on a glass and iron coffee table. “Leighton did it for me. I wanted to landscape around the pool. See?” She picked up a heavy book, the front of which was illustrated with a pool very similar to hers, surrounded by a garden that would take at least some kind of part-time help to maintain. “Isn’t it great? I bought this book last weekend to show Leighton what I want to do with the landscaping.” Her eyes moved from the pool back to me. “I hope we don’t have to move. Anyway, the kittens are in the laundry room.”

Chris whimpered in frustration, and I jiggled him up and down on my hip as I followed her. Then I noticed the spectacular fireplace, lined with bookcases on both sides, filled mostly with the latest fiction.

A single picture graced the mantel. I went over to look more closely, trying not to step on Mr. Lee, who was no longer wrapped around my ankles but still hanging close by.

“Your wedding?” I pointed at a picture of Hayley in a gown next to a man who looked to be thirty years her senior.

“Yes. That’s Leighton.” She picked up the picture.

“Did you get married outside?”

“Yes.” She set down the photo. “At a botanical garden. We haven’t been married long.”

“Where are you from?” I asked.

“New York City.”

In the picture, Hayley was smiling and holding on to Leighton’s hand.

“Your wedding gown was amazing,” I said. “My best friend is getting married in a little more than two weeks.”

“Really? How exciting. To be in love and have the whole world in front of you.” Hayley’s eyes sparkled for a moment. Then her gaze became unfocused, and she chewed her bottom lip. Finally, she blinked and stared clearly at me. “Does she live around here?”

I nodded. “Yes. Her name is Abbie Grenville.”

“Do you mean that author person?”

“That’s the one.”

“Mommy, can we see the kittens now, please?” Sammie whispered.

Poor thing. She was trying so hard to behave even though she was nearly vibrating in her excitement.

“Oh sure, honey,” Hayley said, taking her hand again. “We’ll look at them right now.” She glanced at me over her shoulder. “I think I saw your friend this weekend at the fall festival.”

“Yes, she had a book signing there. I was there early, helping her set up.”

“We were there right around lunch. I was going to look at her book, but Leighton was impatient to leave. He has to eat at regular times. And he only eats certain things.”

I followed Hayley through a large gourmet kitchen complete with black granite countertops and cherry cabinets. She opened another door at the far end, revealing a long hallway. I happened to look down at the floor and noticed that Mr. Lee had disappeared.

“I’m getting lost,” Sammie mumbled.

Hayley laughed. I understood. This was a lot of house.

Walking down the hall, we passed a room on the left that looked to be a man’s study, traditionally decorated in hunter green. Sunlight streamed in through large leaded windows. Two walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Several display cabinets filled with guns lined a third wall.

“Your husband’s office?”

“Yes,” Hayley said.

“Does your husband hunt?” I asked.

“Yes. He’s even been on safaris.” Hayley gave an exaggerated shiver.

I wasn’t paying much attention to her. All I could think about was how Max would love a study like this.

“Ggggg.” Chris bobbed up and down in my arms, pointing with his chubby finger. I realized he was telling me that Hayley and Sammie were walking away. I hurried after them as they turned into a room on the right, a large laundry room.

The room was amazing. A woman’s dream. Wallpaper with climbing vines decorated the walls. A top-of-the-line washer and dryer were surrounded by built-in shelves and cupboards. There was even a phone/intercom system on the wall. A silky-looking Siamese cat perched on the edge of the dryer next to an open box containing several of Jaylene’s Kitty Kollers. The cardboard looked like it had been caught in a tape explosion. Jaylene must have been in a frenzy the day she mailed that one out.

Sammie was squatting on the floor next to a terry-lined basket that held five kittens. “Mommy, look,” she said.

I had to admit the almost-all-white kittens were adorable.

“Cacacacaca,” Chris yelled in my ear as he tried to throw himself from my arms onto the floor. I’d probably be diagnosed with child-induced hearing loss later in life.

“Will the kittens stay white?” I gasped as I tried to hang on to my hefty son.

“No. They’ll start developing gray points soon.” Hayley knelt next to Sammie, gently explaining things to her.

I glanced at the rapt expression on my daughter’s face and knew absolutely that I’d made the right decision despite my own doubts.

Hayley stood to let Sammie decide which kitten she wanted.

“Does your husband help you with the cats?” I asked

“Yes. . . .” Hayley said, speaking loudly over Chris’s protests. “Well, he did. Right now he’s awfully busy. He’s thinking about a couple of job offers. But he’s promised he’ll help me again.”

I thought Hayley seemed a little defensive in telling me so much, and I wondered if things were as good as she claimed.

“Caaaa,” Chris wailed, pointing at the kittens with his fist.

I jiggled him harder, and as his cries wavered back and forth from loud to louder, I encouraged Sammie to hurry. She finally decided. How, I’ll never know, because they all looked alike to me.

Hayley complimented Sammie on her choice and put a tiny blue ribbon around the kitten’s neck. Then we followed her back through the house, twisting and turning our way to the front door.

There Mr. Lee materialized as if by magic and was once again glued to my foot. Hayley noticed and smiled. “You should feel privileged, Trish. I’ve never known him to do that with a stranger.”

I stared down at the cat, trying to communicate my desire for him to leave me alone. My mother taught me that getting up close and personal with someone I don’t know without an invitation is bad manners.

I was shocked when the cat met my gaze, yowled, twined around my ankles a few times, then strolled to Hayley and sat on his haunches next to her, staring at me. Was he mocking me?

Hayley handed us our coats.

As I bundled up Chris, Hayley looked down at Sammie then back at me.

“You can bring her back to visit the kitten.” Her face grew wistful. “You can come often.”

That’s when I realized Hayley was lonely. I felt bad for her. Although I do believe money can make life easier, it can’t take the place of people.

As I put the children in the car, a black BMW streaked up the driveway, pulling around the side of the house. I assumed that was Leighton, and my hunch was confirmed when the man I recognized from the picture on Hayley’s mantel walked back around the house.

I waved, and he approached me.

“Hello,” he said. “I assume you’re Trish Cunningham. Hayley said you were coming this afternoon.”

“Yes.” I offered him my hand, and he shook it. Leighton Whitmore’s photo hadn’t done him justice.

He was as tall as Max and good-looking in a way that age doesn’t impact. A mere photograph could never reveal the full extent of his charisma. Especially when he smiled like he was doing now.

“Angelica and Andrew have told us all about you, and your husband speaks highly of you.”

I smiled even as I wondered when Leighton had met Max. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“And you, as well,” he said. He bent down and spoke to the children. We exchanged a few more pleasantries, then he disappeared inside.

As I pulled down the driveway, I wondered if they were truly happy. Hayley didn’t seem to be. I had a fleeting thought that perhaps Angelica recognized Hayley’s loneliness, and that was the reason she invited Hayley to do things. Then I dismissed it. Angelica would never be that sensitive.