Copycat Killing: A Magical Cats Mystery (18 page)

“I guess it makes sense that he’d go to bat for Jaeger.”

Maggie gave me a half smile. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

Claire came back then with our sandwiches and more coffee and we stopped talking. I’d almost finished my sandwich—as usual Eric’s sourdough bread was better than any I made—when Sam Ingstrom, Mayville Heights’s mayor came in. He raised a hand in recognition to us and crossed to the counter. After he’d spoken to Claire he came over to the table.

“Hello Kathleen, Maggie,” he said. Sam didn’t look like a man who was almost seventy. He was heavier than he’d been in that high school photo I’d seen, but he was in good shape and there was still some dark hair mixed in with the gray.

“Hello, Sam,” I said. Maggie, whose mouth was full, just nodded.

“You know that the street’s clear and the library can reopen tomorrow?”

“I do,” I said. “Thank you.”

He studied my face and frowned. “I heard what happened at Wisteria Hill,” he said. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” I said. “It looks worse than it is.” I seemed to be saying that a lot.

“Glad to hear it,” Sam said.

“You were friends with Tom Karlsson and Pearl Carver weren’t you, back in high school?”

He shook his head. “No. I mean I knew Tom, Mayville Heights was pretty small back in those days, so we all knew each other at school, and he was a star athlete, but we weren’t friends. I was a year younger. I barely knew Pearl at all.”

Sam wore his own high school class ring on his right hand. I noticed he was rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

“I was surprised to hear those remains turned out to be Tom Karlsson,” Sam continued. “Everyone always figured he just ran out on his responsibilities. He was that kind of man.” He half turned. Claire had just come from the kitchen with what was likely Sam’s order in a take-out bag. He gave me his politician’s smile. “Good to see you, Kathleen,” he said. He nodded at Maggie and walked back to the counter.

I was so intent on watching Sam that I didn’t notice for a minute that Maggie was watching me. “You have that look,” she said.

I turned my attention to her. “What look?”

“That ‘something’s off’ look.” She set down her cup and pushed her plate away. “Sam said something that didn’t sit right with you.”

I leaned back in my chair, thinking of the photo I’d seen in that accordion file of old high school yearbook photos at the library. “He said he barely knew Pearl, which isn’t true. Why would he lie about that?”

“W
hat makes you think Sam’s lying?” Maggie asked, gesturing to Claire for our checks. “You didn’t want dessert, did you?”

I shook my head. “I found the high school yearbook for the year Roma’s father graduated. There are a bunch of pictures that didn’t make it into the book, mostly candid shots. Sam’s in one of them, so is Pearl and some other girls. It’s pretty clear from the way Sam is looking at Pearl that he had a thing for her.”

“That’s probably the reason,” Maggie said, getting to her feet as Claire approached the table.

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I think I told you that I was a little late discovering boys.”

“You did.” I smiled at Claire as I pulled out my wallet.

“Did you want a cup of coffee to go?” she asked as she handed over my bill.

“I did,” I said. I looked at the cardboard take-out cup she was holding. “Is that for me?”

“It is,” she said with a smile.

I took the coffee and gave her the money for my meal plus a tip because Claire always gave great service.

“I heard about Jaeger,” she said to Maggie. “I’m sorry.” She looked past us, out the front window of the restaurant where the sky looked a little lighter than it had earlier. “Maybe it’s finally stopped raining and things can get back to normal.” She turned back to us again. “Have a good day,” she said and then she turned and headed back to the counter.

I pulled on my hoodie, careful not to catch the edge of the bandage wrapped around my thumb.

Maggie watched me. “I still think that thumb needs stitches.”

“I know,” I said with a small smile.

We started back to the shop. The sky really did seem less gray. Maybe Claire was right and we’d be able to get back to normal.

“Okay, so explain to me what you being slow to notice boys has to do with Sam lying about knowing Roma’s mom,” I said.

She brushed a stray blond curl off of her face. “My first year of college I had a huge crush on the guy who sat in front of me in my calculus tutorial.” She grinned. “The back of his head was gorgeous. The front was pretty cute too.”

“So what happened?”

“Nothing,” she said. “He pretty much didn’t know I was alive. I mooned over the guy for the entire semester. Everybody who sat near us knew I had a thing for the guy because I had that goony, love-struck look on my face all the time and trust me it wasn’t because I loved calculus.”

We stopped at the corner while a couple of cars and an SUV turned up the hill, then we crossed the street.

“The thing is,” Maggie continued, “I literally sighed over the guy for months and never even talked to him. So even now, if someone were to ask me if I’d known him, my first reaction would be to say no, just because I still feel a bit embarrassed about the way I acted.”

It was hard to imagine Maggie being tongue-tied and awkward around anyone. Last winter when we’d been trying to figure out who had killed Agatha Shepherd, we’d ended up at a club up on the highway. She so totally charmed the bartender, for a moment he’d forgotten how to do anything other than grin at her like an idiot.

“So you think Sam is just embarrassed about a teenage crush?” I said. I knew I looked skeptical. That’s how I felt.

Maggie leaned sideways. “Dried-up raisin,” she said, slowly and clearly.

I stopped walking and glared at her. “Not the same thing,” I said.

She was referring to a cereal commercial my dad had done years ago. He’d played a dried-up raisin in the competitor’s not quite as good product. And developed a cult following. He’d actually had a fan club for a while called—you guessed it—The Raisinettes.

I’d been mortified and I admit I’d cringed a little when the company had decided to revive that ad campaign just a couple of months ago. And I hadn’t exactly told many people it was my father in the commercial.

Maggie was still looking at me with the same unblinking gaze I sometimes got from the cats.

“It’s not the same thing,” I said huffily.

She laughed then.

“Fine. You win,” I said, and started walking again.

Hercules was curled up on Maggie’s desk chair when we got back to the store. He opened one green eye and studied us for a moment. I got the carrier, set it on the floor by the chair and opened the top.

“Let’s go,” I said. The cat made a show of yawning, stretching, and taking his time getting in the bag. I closed the top and slung the bag over my shoulder.

“I need to get going,” I said to Maggie. “Susan and Mary are meeting me at the library.” I’d called both of them to come in for a couple of hours so we’d be ready to open on Friday. “Call me later and let me know how the pump’s working.”

“I will,” she promised. “And I’m going to call Roma too.”

“Good,” I said. “I’ll try her when I get home.” I put a hand on the carrier. I could feel Hercules moving inside.

“Thank you Hercules,” Maggie said, leaning in to look at him through the side mesh panel.

He meowed loudly in acknowledgment.

Susan was standing by the front steps and Mary was coming from the mostly dry parking lot when I got to the library. I unlocked the door and turned off the alarm. “The first thing I need to do is put Hercules in my office,” I said, putting a hand on the top of the bag.

“Did I miss Take Your Cat to Work Day again?” Susan asked. Her hair was up in its usual topknot, a silver skewer poked through it.

“I’m sorry, Susan,” Mary said, all mock-seriousness. “I forgot to forward the memo.”

“You two are so funny,” I said.

Susan waggled her eyebrows at me. “We think so.” She gestured at my bag. “Why did you bring Hercules
with you? Are you planning on making him shelve books?”

I shook my head. “I was thinking that I’d get him to add new books to the system. He’s a pretty good two-pawed typist.”

Herc picked that moment to meow with great enthusiasm and volume. Mary and Susan both laughed.

“He was over at the co-op on rodent patrol for Maggie,” I said.

“Eric told me what happened when you had the job,” Susan said.

I felt my face getting red.

“What am I missing?” Mary asked, hands on her hips.

“Nothing,” I said, quickly.

“Kathleen was the previous rodent wrangler,” Susan said. “Turns out it’s not one of her strengths.”

Hercules chose that moment to meow loudly yet again. It was like having a feline Greek chorus on my hip.

“Details,” Mary said.

Susan made a go-ahead gesture with one hand.

“There was a dead rat floating in the basement over at the co-op store,” I said. “I fished it out and took it outside. That’s all.”

Susan smirked at me. “You left out the part about throwing it at Ruby.”

“You threw a dead animal at poor little Ruby?” Mary said, frowning at me.

“No,” I said. “I was just putting it outside and Ruby kind of got in the way.”

“Now you see, the way I heard it, you used a shovel like it was a tennis racquet and the rodent in question wasn’t exactly dead,” Susan said, still smirking.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mary interrupted, holding up a hand. “You threw a live rat at Ruby?”

“No,” I said. “Not exactly.” I should have stopped talking. “At least not on purpose.” I slid the cat carrier down off my shoulder. “It’s complicated.”

The one-cat Greek chorus took the opportunity to add his two cents. “Don’t start,” I said darkly to the bag.

Mary and Susan were shaking with laughter.

“Seriously,” I said. “And Maggie doesn’t know the rat—”

“—had more than one life to live?” Susan finished.

“Please don’t tell her,” I said.

They both held up their little fingers, linked them, and chanted, “I will not bend, I will not break, this pinky swear I now do make.” Then they gave me big, goony smiles.

I shook my head slowly. “I swear sometimes the two of you are worse than a couple of six-year-olds.”

They grinned and high-fived each other.

“Moving along, I think the first thing we need to do is open some windows and get some fresh air in here,” I said, heading for the stairs.

“I’ll open a couple down here,” Susan said, heading for the computer area.

Mary gestured at my take-out cup. “Should I start the coffeemaker?”

I looked at her without saying a word and she mock-slapped her forehead. “Oh what am I saying? I forgot who I was talking to.”

We started up the steps together. “Your forehead looks sore. I heard what happened. Do you feel all right?”

“I do, thanks,” I said. “I have some pretty spectacular bruises, though.”

Mary hitched her oversized, quilted tote bag a little higher on her shoulder. “As long as you weren’t badly hurt, that’s all that matters.” She stopped on the step below me, one hand on the dark wood railing. “I didn’t believe it at first when I heard Tom Karlsson’s body was out there.”

The image of that dirt-encrusted skull flashed into my mind. “It’s difficult for Roma,” I said.

“And Pearl too, I imagine,” Mary said. “You know, I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“You were friends?”

“Heavens yes. We were in the same class for years.” She gave me a sly grin. “Don’t let my girlish good looks fool you.”

“So you knew Tom?” I said.

Mary nodded. “That I did. A real ladies’ man. All charm and very little substance.” She laughed. “My mother called him a ‘slick willie.’ Pretty much tells you all you need to know.”

“What about Sam?” I asked. Hercules was moving in the bag against my hip again.

“Sammy Ingstrom? He was a grade behind us. Plus his father had money. Sam used to drive this aquamarine T-Bird to school. We didn’t run in the same circles.”

I thought about that photo again. Was I seeing something that wasn’t there?

We went up the last few steps. “You know, I always thought Sam had a bit of a crush on Pearl, though,” Mary said as if she’d somehow read my mind.

“Really?” I said.

“Oh yes,” she said, her blue eyes twinkling. “It would
probably surprise you, given how much he likes to go on and on now, but back then Sammy didn’t say much. And if he was around Pearl, well”—she gave me a knowing smile—“the boy was practically catatonic.”

She headed down the hall to the staff room and I went into my office. Maybe Maggie was right. Maybe Sam had lied about knowing Pearl purely out of embarrassment.

As soon as I let Hercules out of the bag he went for my office chair, sending it looping around in a circle when he jumped on the seat.

I reached for the back and stopped it spinning and the cat looked up at me slightly cross-eyed it seemed to me.

“You like that,” I said. He may not have cared for catnip the way Owen did, but it was clear Hercules liked the rush of spinning around in my chair.

I turned the seat to face the window so he could both bird and people watch. Then I hung up my jacket and changed my rubber boots for shoes.

The pen cap that Hercules had found at the co-op was still in my pocket. I took it out to look at it again. It was clearly old. It looked a lot like the pen I’d seen Everett use, which he’d mentioned once had been his mother’s, but I didn’t see how the cap from a pen belonging to Everett could have ended up at the co-op building. It wasn’t Maggie’s as far as I knew. I turned the piece of the pen over in my fingers, wondering where Hercules had found it and why he’d thought it was important enough to bring to me.

“Care to tell me why you think this is important?” I asked. The cat looked over his shoulder at me with the same unreadable gaze Maggie had given me earlier. I sighed and put the small piece of metal and plastic back
in my pocket. I wasn’t going to get any answers from a cat. I needed to get the library ready to reopen, not play Nancy Drew with Hercules.