Catch as Cat Can (15 page)

“You could have taken over the business,” Sunny suggested. “I've seen you do that.”

Dani shook his head. “Best business to take over, dentist who makes too many bad sports bets. Lots of customers, lots of them pay cash. Lets us move other money through to clean it. But what do I know about fish?”

Olek rumbled something, and Dani shot him a look. “Yes, smoked fish is nice. Everything with you is smoke, smoke, smoke. I'm talking about store not even open for a year. If all of a sudden it makes a lot of money, people might notice. Then, trouble. Trouble I don't need. I tell Mr. Fish Man just let his store close. ‘Cause if someone like Olek come and he got no money to pay, big, big trouble.”

“So when did Neil come?” Sunny asked.

Dani frowned. “Eight o'clock, maybe a little later. He spent a lot of time trying to convince me he was good businessman, just having bad luck. Me, I have nothing important to do that night, so I let him talk. He try very hard, tells me he needs some cash in his hand, but I say no. It was dinner time, so we eat. Food is pretty good here, coffee, not so much. He finish, I guess nine thirty, some later, and goes home.”

With the traffic, less than half an hour to get back to Kittery Harbor,
Sunny thought.
But that still covers the window for the time of death the medical examiner estimated.

“Okay,” she said. “Thanks, Dani.”

Dani leaned across the little table. “I tell you this because I trust you. Don't expect I go tell this in court.” He shook his head. “They might ask other questions I don't want to answer.”

“I don't think you have to worry about that,” Sunny said, silently adding,
I'm the one who'll have to answer unpleasant questions when Will finds out what I've been doing.

Dani must have been thinking the same thing, too, because when Sunny got up to leave, he sent Olek to accompany her to her car. “This is nice enough neighborhood,” he said, “but sometimes things happen. I don't want your cop friend blaming me.”

Sunny nodded. “I know. No trouble.”

They walked the block to where Sunny had left her Wrangler. She thanked Olek, and the big man rumbled something in reply. Sunny noticed he stood there until she had the engine started and actually pulled into the street. Then he turned around, that enormous coat of his flapping in the breeze, and headed for the cafe.

Sunny's cell phone rang, and she pulled over to answer. It was Mike.

“I tried the office and got the voice mail,” he said. “Wanted to catch you before you set off on a big shopping expedition. Helena just invited us to dinner—you, me, and Will, if he can make it. All she asks is that we don't read the latest issue of the
Courier
before we come.” He paused for a second, trying to keep the curiosity out of his voice. “Did you?”

The delivery of the local weekly had been a bit late today, probably thanks to the ice storm, and Sunny had been too busy with other stuff to sit back and read it. “Nope, I missed
it today,” she said. “I guess there must be something in there Mrs. M. wants to celebrate.”

Either that, or she wants to use up all the supplies she accumulated for the ice storm,
that irrepressible voice in the back of Sunny's head suggested.

Out loud, she asked, “Is there a time set for this dinner? I had an errand to run in Portsmouth.”

“I think you can make it all right,” Mike said. “You've got about an hour.”

Traffic was light enough that Sunny was able to get back, wash up, and put on some nicer clothes than her usual office wear. As she was putting on a little face paint, she heard the doorbell below.

That must be Will,
she thought. She'd already decided not to discuss her conversation with Neil or her excursion to Portsmouth until after their visit with the Martinsons.
If he decides to blow his top over Dani and Olek, at least the condemned will enjoy a hearty meal,
Sunny thought.

She came downstairs to find Will hanging up his coat, chatting with Mike. Will turned to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You look nice. I came from work, so what you saw this morning is what you get.”

Sunny nodded. “You're wearing the same tie you had on the last time we saw the Martinsons,” she said. “They're going to think it's the only one you own.”

He fingered the embroidered silk. “It's the only one I like.”

Shadow made the usual wary approach he reserved for times when his humans departed from their normal schedule. Still, he came over to give Will's ankles a good sniff.

Laughing, Will bent down, let Shadow sniff his hand,
and then gently ran fingers through the fur on top of the cat's head. “Don't worry, little guy. We'll be back soon.”

“Speaking of soon, I suppose we should get a move on,” Mike said. “What's the condition of the sidewalks?”

“Looks to me like most people put some kind of ice melt down,” Will reported. “Worse comes to worst, we can detour into the street.”

They strolled the couple of blocks to the Martinson house without any slippery incidents, and Mike rang the doorbell. Mrs. M. must have been watching for them, because she opened the door almost immediately. Excited woofing rose in volume as Toby came nearer. Then they heard Abby say firmly, “Toby! Heel!”

Even the barking diminished as Helena Martinson led them inside. Toby stood beside Abby, looking up at her and wagging his tail, obviously eager to rush over and play with the newcomers. Abby reached down to take hold of the dog's collar. “Toby, come.” She led the overgrown pup over to Mike, Sunny, and Will. Sunny could see Toby's muscles bunching for a jump up to her waist, but Abby saw that, too. “Down, Toby.”

Astonishingly, Toby relaxed, just coming forward for a greeting sniff.

“Wow,” Sunny said. “You really are a dog whisperer.”

“I'm not.” Abby shook her head, but she was grinning at her success. “This is what I learned from being a dog
walker
when I first got out to the coast. It's not something you put on your resume, but it left me with some useful skills. Then again, maybe I should have put it on my resume and tried for directing jobs. If I could get animals to behave, maybe
I could do the same with actors.” She bent down to Toby. “What do you think, pooch? Aren't you a happier dog now that you have some rules to live with?”

Mike took off his coat. “So, what's in the new newspaper that we weren't allowed to see?”

Abby turned to Helena, looking for a moment like a mortified teenager. “Mom, you didn't invite them over for that?”

“I most certainly did.” Mrs. M.'s voice was full of pride as she held up a copy of the
Harbor Courier
and opened it up. There on the third page was a big photo of Abby with the headline,

FROM HOLLYWOOD BACK TO THE HARBOR.

Helena Martinson stood
beaming, while Abby looked embarrassed. “Mr. Howell was kind of a fan, back when I was doing shows all around the area,” she said. “He even reviewed a couple of them and said I could go places. So when I bumped into him on the street the other day, he asked a lot of questions.”

“He must have been disappointed to hear that you'd kind of given up on the acting,” Mike said.

Abby laughed. “He said Hollywood's loss was the legal profession's gain—even put it in the story. Then he brought me around to his office and shot some pictures.”

“I'm surprised he didn't go for a glamour shot and have you perched on a trunk, showing a little leg,” Sunny teased.

“If he had the trunk, I wouldn't be surprised.” Abby
grinned at Helena. “To tell the truth, I think Mom's more excited about it than I am.”

“It's a nice picture,” Mrs. M. defended herself. “A nice,
big
picture.”

Will took a long look and shook his head. “I guess it makes a change from the number of people hurt in the storm and the Vane murder.”

Sunny gave him a worried look. Was he going to bring up the investigation over dinner?

Mike was still looking at the photo. “You know, Sunny's gotten her picture in the paper a few times.” He wasn't about to be one-upped in the family pride stakes.

Now Sunny had to laugh. “Dad, when I turn up in the papers, I've usually been conked on the head or just escaped some ridiculous situation by the skin of my teeth. It's not quite the same as this.” She looked at Abby's photo. “I just wish I had a chance to look nice in one of those shots. Hey, I'd even pose on top of a trunk if that was the only way.”

That got a laugh out of everybody. A moment later, the oven timer pinged and Helena and Abby headed back to the kitchen and started preparing to serve.

It was a nice, stick-to-the-ribs sort of meal: roast beef and gravy, potatoes, and peas and carrots. Abby asked Mike if he wanted to carve. “Mom bought this big hunk of cow when she heard about the storm on the way, figuring we could cook it and live for a week on the leftovers.” She looked around the table. “I think it's nicer to use it up this way.”

“Better eating than I expected this evening,” Will had to admit. “I just hope a satisfied stomach won't put me to sleep.”

“You're going back to work after this?” Sunny asked.

Will nodded. “Got a couple of things to look into.” He hummed in appreciation as he took another mouthful.

Sunny chewed over that comment—along with the piece of beef she'd just taken from her fork. She hadn't had a chance yet to talk with Will about her conversation with Neil Garret—or with Dani Shostak. So this had to be something new. She glanced at Will, and noticed him quietly watching Abby.

Oh, come on,
she silently complained.
Just when I start liking Abby, she winds up as a possible suspect. I hope she's not the reason he expects to work late this evening.

Will started telling a story about a mishap he'd encountered as a rookie with the state police. “I thought they'd taught me how to handle myself, but a lot of that went out the window when that biker got mad at me. To tell the truth, I was lucky to get the cuffs on him. Folks don't know it, but the biker gangs are the organized crime up by the border. They smuggle over anything the market will bear—drugs, booze, guns, even girls.”

Just like Dani's Ukrainian friends,
Sunny thought.
And he launders the money for them.

Abby looked surprised. “You mean organized crime—like the Mafia?”

“Them we have on both sides of the border,” Will replied. “In fact, the operations in Montreal are traditionally considered a branch of one of the Five Families in New York. They've had setbacks up there in recent years, and I understand they've turned to some of the biker gangs for muscle.”

He laughed. “Anyway, I guess your days starting out in
Hollywood didn't involve messing with three-hundred-and-fifty-pound hairy guys.”

Abby waggled her eyebrows, grinning. “Well, if you added up the weights of all those dogs I walked . . .”

Will coaxed tales of work misadventures from the rest of them, along with several war stories from Abby's film career. When she apologized for taking over so much of the conversation, Will said, “Hey, you've got better material than the rest of us.”

It sounded like dinner table chitchat, but Sunny noticed that Will managed to draw Abby out not only on her acting, but her restaurant work, even getting her to tell a story about Nicky Gatto.

He's quietly interrogating her in front of everyone,
Sunny thought.
Man, I really hope he hasn't figured a way to connect her to either of these murders
.

Sunny helped to clear the dinner dishes away, and Mrs. Martinson came out with one of her famous coffee cakes. “I'm going to say something silly,” she said, “but I mean it seriously. The talking and laughing around the table tonight, you made this feel the most like a family dinner since—well, since my Vince passed on.”

“Mom—” Abby started, but she didn't know what to say.

“No, honey, I think your dad would approve of us having a good time. He'd just wish he could be here, too.” She raised her cup of coffee in a toast. “To memories and good times.”

Mike raised his cup, too. “And to Vince, who was so much a part of you both.”

They all followed suit and sat around the table finishing their coffee and cake, but it was as if that toast had signaled
the end of the meal. All too soon, the visitors were putting on their coats.

Abby leaned in toward Sunny. “I can see why Mom enjoys your visits,” she said in a low voice, not wanting Helena to hear. “Maybe we'll be able to get together again before I leave on Sunday.”

“I'd like that,” Sunny said, silently worrying,
Provided it doesn't involve Will arresting you.

They stepped out into the chilly air, waving cheerful good-byes before the brisk walk home.

*

Shadow prowled the
top floor, his tail lashing around in annoyance. Yes he did this every night, but in the dark time. This was too early, the house was empty, it was all wrong, wrong, wrong. He sank into a crouch at the top of the stairs, glaring down at the door and thinking dark thoughts.

I should get Sunny for leaving me all alone,
he thought.
Make her sorry for doing that.
But what should he do? A disagreement between cats was a lot easier. You showed your teeth, sometimes the claws came out, and most times that was enough. One side usually backed down, solving things. If not, the claws really came out and sometimes there was blood. Shadow had been in enough fights. He'd won a lot, but lost a few, especially when he was very young. Mostly he remembered the pain.

The problem with two-legs was that these tactics usually didn't work on them. They were just too big, and often too stupid to realize what a cat was trying to do. He'd have to find a better way to vent his annoyance.

That gave Shadow an idea.
Maybe I can let out a little
bad air when I'm under the covers with her tonight,
he thought.
Sunny really hates when I do that.

He started down the stairs, aiming for the kitchen where he could bolt down some food and maybe fill his belly, when he heard voices outside the door. Sunny!

For a wild second, he considered leaping down the rest of the stairs to pounce on her feet when she came in. But Shadow pushed that idea down.
No. You're mad at her. No playing.

Although a good sneak attack might scare her . . .

He forced himself to a sedate trot as the keys rattled in the lock, getting halfway to the kitchen before the door opened.

Shadow turned to look over his shoulder, and his heart lurched for a moment just at the sight of his Sunny, her face pink from the cold outside, stepping in and taking off her coat. He ruthlessly crushed the desire to run to her, to wind round her ankles, sniff out where she'd gone, and mark her as his.

No being nice,
he reminded himself.
She went and left me.

It turned out that getting off the stairs was a good thing, because the Old One mumbled something and began climbing up to the hall above. Sunny and her He went into the room with the picture box. They didn't turn it on, though, sitting on the big chair together and talking. Sunny was doing most of the speaking. Shadow couldn't understand it, but her tone sounded nervous.

Maybe you're blaming the wrong one,
the cat thought.
What if Sunny's He came here and made them go away?
He seemed to turn up more and more lately, taking Sunny away at all sorts of odd times.

The problem was, how could Shadow show his displeasure? Sunny's He was even bigger than she was, and dumber about a lot of cat things.
If I just ignore him, he'd probably like that,
Shadow thought.
He'd get to be with Sunny instead of me.

This was very bad, and Shadow couldn't solve it by charging in with a war cry and his claws out.

Maybe I can sneak up and bite him on the ankle when he tries to rub faces with Sunny.
Shadow started skulking forward.

I just hope he's not wearing those high foot-covers he sometimes uses,
Shadow thought.
Don't think I could bite through those.

*

Sunny gave Will
an uncertain look as they settled on the couch. Mike, as he often did, had made his excuses and headed upstairs, leaving the living room to them.

But I don't think there'll be much smooching involved,
Sunny thought. She sat on the edge of the couch. “Well, you dug just about as deeply as you could into Abby Martinson without announcing it,” she said.

Will blinked at her tone. “You're not jealous, are you?”

“No, I could see what you were doing. That doesn't mean I won't be glad when she takes off back to California this weekend.” Sunny paused for a second. “Did you get what you wanted?”

“Not sure.” Will backed that up with a shrug. “Mainly I
was just trying to get a read on her when she wasn't biting my head off or cleaning my tie. I had hoped to gauge her reaction to a couple of things, but it wasn't easy. Abby's a trained actress. She can hide things.” He glanced at her. “It's like your pal Neil Garret. Do you know the marshals actually train people in WitSec on how to evade giving answers?”

“He's not my friend.” Sunny took a deep breath. “And he did talk to me after I called him Nicky. The problem is sorting out anything useful from the stream of good old BS.”

“Did he say anything about Val Overton?” Will asked.

“Neil seems to like and respect her,” Sunny replied. “Although I don't think he's above trying to use her if he had to. He might have asked her to squash Phil Treibholz, but he was holding that as a last resort.” She explained about Neil's “buzz off” money. “He'd lose all that if Val decided it was too dangerous to let him stay around here.”

Will scowled. “So now we've got Garret protecting his life and his money—a strong, double-header motive. And his pal Vane had a house full of guns. That could cover means. And he has no alibi—”

“Actually, Neil does,” Sunny responded. “He just didn't want Val to hear it, because he'd get in trouble.”

Will stared. “Worse trouble than a murder charge hanging over his head?”

“Trouble that might get him bounced out of witness protection—or hauled out of town without his money.” She explained Neil's quest for alternate funding to pay off Treibholz. “He wound up trying to deal with a couple of guys we know, over in Portsmouth,” she continued, but Will cut her off.

“Shostak and Lipko,” he said, peering at her. “And you went and talked to them, didn't you?”

“They confirmed that Neil Garret was trying to hit them up for a bridge loan to keep his store going. Dani wasn't interested in his business. He figured it was going to fail, anyway. The thing is, though, that Neil was trying to convince them he was a good prospect through the estimated time of death. So, unless the medical examiner was way off, Neil has an alibi for both murders.”

“Yeah, nice work, Sunny, but what were you thinking, talking to those guys alone? Maybe they seem like a charming foreign comedy act, but they're dangerous. Lipko especially.”

“He saw me back to my car,” Sunny told him.

That didn't make Will feel any better. “Sunny, you can't make a joke out of this.” His voice grew sharp and he leaned toward her.

With a sound more like a throaty growl than a hiss, Shadow suddenly came leaping out from behind one of the chairs, attacking Will's ankle. Unfortunately, Will was wearing heavy boots, and the cat couldn't get his teeth set. He spat in disgust, then rocketed up, trying to attack the tie dangling from Will's neck. Shadow's hiss of triumph turned into a cry of dismay when one of his claws got caught in the heavy embroidered silk.

He dangled for a moment, then Sunny knelt to take his weight in her hands. “Now you've done it,” she said.

“Are you talking to the cat, or to me?” Will asked.

“Both,” Sunny answered, trying to work the claw free without leaving a big pull in the middle of the tie. “You for
making him think he had to protect me, and him for almost destroying your Christmas present.”

Having gotten Shadow loose, she got back onto the couch, keeping the cat in her lap. Sunny gently ran her fingers over Shadow's fur. “No problem here, Shadow. You take it easy, now.”

She looked at Will. “I'm not going to make a joke or argue about it. You know how skittish Dani gets when he sees a badge. But he talked to me, and he confirmed Neil's alibi.”

“I doubt if that would hold up in court,” Will grumped.