Leighann Dobbs - Mystic Notch 02 - A Spirited Tail (16 page)

“Sheesh.”

Jimmy looked at the floor, his face splotched with outbreaks of acne that hadn’t been there yesterday. “Needless to say, Augusta and Striker are a little put out with me.”

And probably with me, too,
I thought.

“But I overheard Steve say he needed money bad.” I tapped the pen against my lips. “Maybe he had an accomplice and they set it up this way so as to confuse the police?”

“Do you think he would be that clever? And who would be his accomplice?  He doesn’t seem to know anyone here,” Jimmy said.

“Oh, yes he does.” 

“Who?” Jimmy and Pepper asked in unison.

“Emma.” 

“The church lady?” Jimmy looked at me like I was crazy. “She wouldn’t kill Bruce.”

“I know, but when she was here this morning and heard Steve was arrested, she got all flustered and ran out.”

“Well, that’s weird,” Pepper said. “Why do you think that would be?”

“I have no idea,” I answered aloud, which was true, but I knew one way to find out that I didn’t want to mention out loud. 

It was time to pay a visit to the cattery.

Chapter Fifteen

The cattery for the feral cats was located on a tract of land that the church owned. It was hidden off the beaten path. There were many opposers in town and we didn’t want to advertise where the cattery was, which was also the reason I couldn’t talk about it in front of Jimmy—I didn’t know if he was friend or foe. 

I made it a point to pick up some extra cat food when I went shopping to donate to the feral cats. So, even though the church was within walking distance, I got my jeep from the town parking lot and drove to the church, parking near the edge of the lot near the cattery. I figured the less people who saw me lugging stuff from my car into the woods, the better. 

I got out and popped the back of my jeep, grabbed the two cloth grocery bags, snuck a furtive look around the parking lot and headed down the trail.

The canopy of trees in the woods lowered the temperature by a couple of degrees, which was most welcome on the hot summer day. Sunlight filtered through the dense foliage, sparkling dots on the trail in front of me. Birds chirped and flew from branch to branch.

As I reached the cattery, the peaceful sounds of the forest were broken by voices inside. Two voices—a man and a woman. My heart clutched as I recognized them. Steve Van Dorn and Emma.

I stood outside the building, my muscles tense. 

Was Emma in trouble?

Listening to the conversation, I could tell by the low tones there was no conflict going on. It appeared they were just having a friendly chat, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. I relaxed and pushed the door, listening to it creak open.

The conversation stopped and Steve and Emma both turned to look at me. I felt a tingle of nervousness as I wondered if Steve knew I had given Jimmy the tip on the marker.

“Oh, Willa, did you bring more food? Thank you so much.” Emma rushed over to take the bags from me. “You two know each other, right?”

“Yep. Hi, Steve.”

I looked quizzically at Emma, wondering just what Steve was doing there.

“Steve is a friend of our cause. He’s helping me capture some of these cats so we can get them spayed and neutered,” Emma explained.

I noticed several cat carriers on the floor with their doors open. Insuring the feral cat population didn’t run unchecked was important, so getting them spayed and neutered was a critical part of our program.

The cats, though, weren’t as excited about it as we were and it could be impossible to coax them into the crates. Every month, we tried to take at least a few to Doc Evans, who donated his time and medical supplies for the job.  

Steve squatted down next to a crate and extended his hand toward a black and white tuxedo cat that he was trying to coax inside the crate with a treat. I marveled at the way the cat responded to him. Apparently, Steve had a way with animals.  Most of the feral cats weren’t fit for adoption. They distrusted humans too much. But some could become house cats and find their forever home… maybe this tuxedo cat was one of the lucky ones. But, even though the cat seemed to like and trust Steve,
I
still didn’t.

He looked up at me sheepishly. “I suppose you heard what happened.”

He didn’t seem mad at me, so I figured he didn’t know I was the one who tipped off the police, which was good. Even if he wasn’t a killer, I still didn’t want to be on his bad side.

I nodded.

Steve looked down at the floor and shifted his position. “I feel embarrassed about it now. I mean, it was a dirty thing to do. I guess I just wanted what was best for the cats.”

“Cats?”

“Steve has his own feral cat rescue back home,” Emma cut in.

“You do?” My first impression of Steve was that he was trouble. I couldn’t picture him catering to cats, but with the way he was gently coaxing the little tuxedo cat, I had to admit my first impression might have been wrong.

Steve nodded. “Yes, but it’s in trouble. We need to raise money fast or the building is going to be condemned and the cats will be taken to shelters. Some of them will likely be euthanized because they aren’t fit for adoption.”

My stomach twisted at his words. I hate the thought of cats being euthanized, especially if it could be prevented.

“That’s why I wrote on that man’s forehead. I had just flown in and came up to see the house first thing.  I didn’t even get inside and I heard the dog crying and saw that man lying there. I rushed over, thinking he needed help, but he was already dead. And then I got the idea to write the symbol. I’d been reading up a lot about the curse and planning on using my uncle’s past and the curse to spur interest in the items and… ” Steve shrugged. “I guess it was bad judgment.”

“Wait. You heard Ranger? He was there?”  

“The Golden?  Yeah. Nice dog.”

“He let you touch Bruce?”

“Yep. He seemed nervous. I got the impression he wanted me to help, but I couldn’t and then he sniffed me and we made friends.”

“So, then what did you do?”

Steve’s face turned red. “I went home and waited for someone else to discover the body. I couldn’t call it in with my past, and there was no helping the guy anyway.  I’m not proud of it.”

“Now Steve, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. You had good intentions,” Emma clucked.

I wasn’t sure what to say. He
did
have good intentions but it was still creepy. I had to admit I did feel a little sorry for him …
if
what he said was true. But why would he be at the cattery if it wasn’t? 

“You didn’t see anyone or pass anyone on the road? Or see any evidence?” I asked.

“Nope. The police asked all that.” Steve narrowed his eyes at me. “Are you with them?”

“Oh, no. She just has a habit of butting in,” Emma cut in.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw several of the cats converging on the corner of the barn, leaping and batting at something invisible … no, not exactly invisible. The swirling mists of Charles Van Dorn solidified for a second and he looked at me pointedly—a reminder about researching his murder.

“Do you know a lot about your uncle’s past?”

Steve shook his head. “Just that he was some kind of psychic and there was a big to-do about his death and he killed some girl he had staying there.”

“He was a nice man, your uncle,” Emma said. “I don’t think he killed anyone.”

“You knew him?” I said incredulously. I couldn’t picture little mousy Emma hanging around with the Mystic Notch celebrities.

Her mouth straightened into a prim line. “Well, I went to a few parties up there.”

I slipped the picture of the guy staring at Lily that I’d taken from the Van Dorn photo album out of my pocket. “Do you know who this is?”

“Oh, sure, he’s that writer guy, Les’s father.”

“Sal Price?”

“Yes, that was his name.” Emma shivered. “I never much liked him, but Charles said the press coverage helped him make a big name for himself so he invited him to everything.”

Could Sal Price have been involved? Maybe his son, Les, would know something. I made a mental note to visit him out at the Moonlight Motel. 

“What do you know about Lily Johanson and Charles?” I asked Emma.

“Not much. I think Lily was sweet on him.” Her face turned pink. “I can’t say I blame her. He was a handsome man. It’s such a shame he decided to take his own life.”

Over in the corner, Charles’ ghost puffed up and swirled at the compliment.

“He didn’t return her affections?” I persisted.

“No. He was entirely focused on his career.”

“What about his housekeeper?”

Emma’s brows mashed together. “Gladys?”

I nodded.

“Oh, I’ve known her for years. They were very close and she was broken up badly when he died.” 

“You don’t think Charles and Gladys could have been … you know.” I wiggled my eyebrows and Emma looked at me funny, then her eyes went wide.

“Certainly not. She was married to a very nice man. Charles was too much of a gentleman to fool around with a married woman. They
were
very close, though. I remember she wanted to go back into the house and collect some memorabilia after Charles died, but the police had it shut up tight.” She tilted her head and looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t think anyone was ever allowed in after that until Steve inherited it. She still lives right here in town.” 

Emma looked at Steve. “I guess you didn’t realize that house had such an interesting history.”

Steve’s brown eyes were alive with interest. “I didn’t. You know, I never actually thought much about it, but I guess Uncle Charles did live an interesting life.”

“Do you know why Charles left Gladys money?” I asked Emma.

“He left her money?”  Emma looked from me to Steve and we both nodded. “I didn’t hear that. But I do know one thing … I’m not sure Gladys would have still worked for him much longer anyway.”

“Why?”

“She was about six months pregnant when he died.”

Chapter Sixteen

Now that Steve was in the clear, my job of cataloguing the library was back on, so I headed to Van Dorn’s after work. Ranger had eaten a full supper and Pandora had made a lot of discontented mewling sounds as I left home.

I was looking forward to finishing up with the books and hopefully finding those journals.

Steve pulled in the same time I did and we greeted each other in the driveway. I still thought what he did to Bruce was creepy, but I kind of had a soft spot for him now that I knew he was a cat lover.

“I hope you won’t tell anyone my little secret,” Steve said.

“That you’re a cat lover?”

“Yep.” He smiled and, for the first time, I noticed he had a nice smile that transformed his face. 

“Nah, don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” I said. “I was wondering, though, how do you know Emma?”

“The feral cat network on Facebook.”

“There’s a network?” I asked as we walked up onto the porch together and Steve unlocked the door.

“Yeah, it’s like a closed group. We help each other out.” Steve unlocked the door and gestured for me to precede him inside.

“Huh.”

“So, why do you think this Norton guy was killed?” he asked. “At first, I thought maybe he just had a heart attack, but I guess not, considering all the interest from the police.”

“It wasn’t a heart attack. It’s a mystery as to why he was killed.”

Steve scratched his head. “Is that why you’ve been asking all those questions?  You think it has something to do with my uncle, don’t you?”

“I … well … ” I stammered. I was never very good at lying.

He pressed his lips together, scanning the house. “You know, this whole history is really interesting. Maybe I shouldn’t be selling this stuff off in such a hurry. And the interest in those journals, what do you make of that?”

“Good question. I don’t know, but more than one person really wants them.”

“Yeah, we better be careful with those. Do you think this Bruce guy was after the journals?”

“That’s a good question.” I hadn’t considered that angle. Bruce knew Charles and hung around here back in the day. Maybe he had come here that night for the journals … but why wait all this time? 

Steve’s eyes turned sad. “I wonder what happened to the dog?” 

“Ranger? I have him temporarily. I couldn’t let him go to the pound and I was thinking I would see if any of Bruce’s relatives wanted him, but Bruce didn’t have any.” I shrugged. “So, I guess I’ll keep him until I find the right master.”

“Oh? He was a real nice dog. I’m glad that you have him. I would have hated to see him go to the pound.”

We proceeded down the hall toward the library and office. About halfway down, Steve slowed his step. He put his hand out to stop me. “Wait here. Something’s not right.”

I felt a prickle of adrenaline as Steve took off down the hall. I didn’t notice anything … maybe Charles was here and Steve was picking up on it. 

“Crap!” Steve yelled from the office and I rushed toward it, skidding around the corner to see Steve standing in front of a large, mahogany cabinet.

“What happened?” I asked.

He stepped aside, revealing a thin crack in the cabinet.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Apparently, this cabinet had a secret compartment.” He motioned me over. “Check it out.” 

I walked closer to inspect the cabinet. It was ingenious, really. There was a hidden compartment on the side, which was made to look like part of the molding. It now hung open, the small interior compartment dark and empty.

“Do you think someone came in and opened this?” I remembered Charles didn’t like people going through his things and wondered if maybe the ghost had been playing a joke on Steve.

“It sure looks that way.” Steve glanced around the room, then went out into the hall. I could hear him checking the windows and doors. “There’s no sign of a break-in.”

Charles appeared in the corner and I raised my brows at him then pointed to the cabinet. He shrugged and shook his head. I guess it wasn’t him.