The Cat, the Mill and the Murder: A Cats in Trouble Mystery (31 page)

“Who?” she answered. Unlike mine, her voice was like steel.

“Don’t say my name again,” Stanley whispered. “Get over to the other door.”

I repeated the scenario with Tom, but unlike Candace, who sounded calm and collected, Tom was furious. He shouted, “You hurt her and I’ll kill you, Stanley. That’s a promise.”

I was then shoved back to the corner and I could hear cats stirring in their shelter. I was surprised they hadn’t panicked and come out. But then, perhaps these shelters made them feel safer than they ever had before. What would happen to them? Would this maniac kill them, too?

Stanley didn’t resume looking for something to tie me up. He paced in front of me, gun hand again on top of his head. Trapped like an animal, he was trying to figure out how to use me to get out of here.

I took a deep breath and decided I had nothing but words to use as my weapon. “It’s over, Ward. Let Candace in. Come clean about your trips inside the mill all these years and it will go better for you.”

“I’ll never get my mill back now. Never,” he said, as if talking to himself.

“You’ve been looking for the things you and your mother believe your father hid in here, right?” I said.

“Duh, yes,” he said. “And I knew I’d find the stash one day, especially once the mill was back in my hands. But
you
had to show up.”

“What if I could tell you where it is?” I said. “You might spend a little jail time, but that wouldn’t keep your mother from getting what belongs to the two of you.”

He shined the light directly on my face. “What are you talking about?”

“The engineer found a false wall,” I said. “That’s why he and Candace are here tonight—to see what’s behind
it. Your father might have hidden money or jewels or whatever he was trying to keep from your mother right in his office.”

“Next to the body?” he said, incredulous.

His words scared me more than the gun, more than the blow to my face, more than the hatred this man had revealed tonight. How did he know where the skeleton had been hidden?

Unless he’d put it there
.

There was no use pretending I didn’t hear what he’d said. “You knew about the body because you killed Kay Ellen Sloan when she followed you in here one night, right?” Trying not to sound accusatory, I hoped to make it seem that I was stating facts I already knew.

Meanwhile, I could hear Tom shouting, but I couldn’t make out his words.

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he said. “I didn’t kill her. My father did.” He began pacing again. “Oh, I helped him wrap her up and put her in the fireplace, all right. Did as I was told. Didn’t ask questions. And how does he repay me? By denying me my legacy. Denying me what was mine.”

“He was sneaking in here, too, then?” I said.

“Sneaked in here to hide what he’d stolen from us. After he died, and Mom and I learned there was nothing left, I understood. He hadn’t killed that girl because she’d spurned his advances like he’d told me. She’d followed him in here, saw what he was doing and threatened to tell the world.” He stopped and stared at me. “He was always a liar and ended up a thief, too. Stole from his own family.”

“But you can explain all that to the police,” I said. “They’ll understand. You could maybe even get probation and—”

He pointed the gun at me. “You don’t know what
you’re talking about, so I suggest you shut up and let me think.”

I closed my eyes. Why did I believe I could reason with a crazy, desperate man? But when I opened my eyes, he was no longer pointing the gun at me. He was doing his five-step walk one way and then the other.

And Boots had appeared. My little angel had come to offer comfort and I felt my speeding heart slow a little at the sight of her. She was sitting on the floor right near Stanley, her curled-up smiley mouth making me feel as if this would all work out. It had to. I loved Tom; I loved Kara and Candace and my three most precious babies. I had to get out of here alive. I
had
to.

I don’t know if all ghost cats can read minds, but perhaps Boots could. She stood and ambled toward the feral shelter. She went away from me, her tail in the air. I squinted into the darkness and saw her find the little entrance on the side. She walked in.

The screech that followed startled me as well as my captor. But when three big cats came racing out of that shelter, they toppled Ward Stanley in their frantic race to escape. He dropped the gun and it slid away from him.

One cat had gotten tangled up with him and managed to swipe his face before disappearing. He yelped and I knew I had my chance. I snatched up the gun.

My two hands trembled as I gripped it and pointed it at Stanley. Candace had taught me a bit about guns and I knew this was a Glock, one of those automatics that didn’t have a safety. I sure hoped it didn’t go off, because if I hurt this man, even though he’d hurt me, I knew I couldn’t live with myself.

“Get up and go open a door,” I said. “I don’t care which one, because you and I both know there are people waiting to help me no matter which one you choose.”

I followed behind him, not getting too close in case he
decided to turn and fight me for the weapon. My hands were still shaking and I was glad he didn’t know I could never pull the trigger unless the thing was aimed at his foot.

I suppose he decided he’d have a better chance with Tom than with the police. After all, the police had guns, too.

He was wrong.

The minute the door opened, Tom’s fist landed on Stanley’s chin and flattened him. He was out cold.

The nice, warm police station seemed the best and safest place in the world to me. I was in the break room with Tom, a blanket around my shoulders and an ice pack pressed to my cheek. The memory of him holding me close in that kitchen would last for a lifetime. So would the scolding I’d gotten from Candace once she’d come in and handcuffed a dazed Ward Stanley back at the mill.

She’d just put Stanley in an interview room a few minutes ago, but she came in to check on me. That was when Tom, who’d driven me here, asked to speak to her—to talk to her alone—but only after asking if I’d be all right by myself for a few minutes.

“I’m not made of china,” I said. “I didn’t break and I don’t plan to.”

He grinned. “I’ll be right back.”

I grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and sat back down at the break table. I hadn’t seen Boots after she scared those ferals out of the shelter, but I smiled at what she’d done. It was no accident—and it was something I could never tell anyone. The ferals got spooked and gave me an opportunity. That was my story and I would stick to it.

I took a sip and realized I wanted sweet tea far more than cold water, but that would have to wait. The cut
inside my cheek reacted to the cold and I winced.
Pain is only a reminder you’re still alive, Jillian. It’s a good thing.

Tom returned as promised and, of course, I had to know what he wanted with Candace.

He took my hands off the water I held and gripped them in his own. “I wanted to confirm something. Do you know you’re a hero? That you took down a murderer tonight?”

“What? No. You knocked him out. Besides, his father is the one who killed Kay Ellen. Ward may be a bad person, but I believe him.”

“I’m not talking about Kay Ellen,” he said. “I’m talking about Penelope Webber.”

I shook my head. “That doesn’t make sense. Penelope was ready to vote through the condo proposal, just like Stanley wanted her to. She wanted to cash in on the deal, but someone found out—Landon Burgess, no doubt—and she was murdered to keep her from swaying the vote.” I paused, considering this. “Stanley had to know which way she was leaning, so why would he want her dead? Once the mill was in his hands again, he could tear it completely apart looking for the money he believes his father hid.”

“You mean the bearer bonds, diamonds and cash Dustin Gray helped Candace locate?” he said.

“No way,” I said, smiling broadly. “They found it?”

“They found it thanks to Dustin’s skill as an engineer,” Tom said. “Who knows when that secret little room was constructed? Years ago, no doubt. But obviously son Ward knew nothing about it—nor did his mother.”

I said, “But let’s back up. You said he murdered Penelope. Why would he do that when she was about to help him get his proposal approved?”

“Here’s the deal. I learned who the shadow investor was today. Penelope Webber had maxed out every credit
card, drained her bank account and turned over her stocks to Stanley.” He smiled. “That’s how I found out she was the mysterious investor—because of the stocks she put in his name.”

“That still doesn’t explain why Stanley would kill one of his cash cows,” I said.

“Your friend Dustin had a hand in that, I’m afraid,” he said. “After he’d been to the mill, he voiced serious doubts to Penelope about the condo proposal. Told her the renovations for residential living would be far more costly, especially the insurance part. There wasn’t enough in the condo till to cover it.”

“Dustin did tell me something about that tonight. So, Penelope asked Stanley for her money back, didn’t she?” I said.

“I think so, because she still had an investor offering up a real estate component—Landon Burgess. Penelope wouldn’t cash in as quickly as with the condo project, but an urban village still could work for her down the line. She could become involved as a
commercial
real estate agent once the shops in the urban village were created,” he said. “Candace and Morris will sweat the entire truth out of Stanley, I’m sure. Plus, that weapon he used—what’s it called again?”

“A heddle hook,” I said.

“It came from inside the mill. Who do we now know has been in that mill probably more times than we can count over the years?”

“Ward Stanley,” I said, nodding slowly.

“A piece of circumstantial evidence, but it makes sense.” He smiled. “Candace said I can take you home. What you told her in the car on the way over has given her plenty of ammunition to hold Stanley—but knowing her, she’ll get him to confess. She said she’ll get your formal statement tomorrow morning.”

As we were walking out, Kara blasted through the
door in the waiting area. When she saw me, she pressed her hand to her heart. “I’ve never been so glad to see you in my life.”

Tom held the gate open and she grabbed me in a bear hug. Then she gripped my forearms and held me back so she could look at my face.

“Did he do that to you?” she said, staring at what was probably an ugly bruise.

“It’s okay. I’m fine. We were just going home and I’d love it if you came, too.”

Tom told me he’d help me pick up my van tomorrow and we drove to my house in his Prius, with Kara’s SUV on our tail.

The cats were lined up and I could tell they knew something had happened. All three rubbed against me and wound between my legs. When I knelt to pet them, Syrah sniffed at my swollen cheek and then rubbed his head against my biceps.

They followed on my heels, but once I’d poured myself a glass of sweet tea—the cure for everything, in my opinion—they seemed to know that the world was right again. Only then did they greet Kara and Tom.

I took my tea with me when I went to change. When I took off my clothes, I decided I never wanted to see them again. I tossed them in the trash when I came back to visit with Kara and Tom.

I curled up in the corner of the sofa with Chablis. My boy cats decided they weren’t ready to rest, but they still needed to be near me, so they crouched at my feet, staring up at me.

After I’d filled Kara in on all that had happened since I’d last seen her at the restaurant, I said, “Did you talk to Morris about Earl Whitehouse?”

She nodded. “Related everything to Morris right after I dumped my
date
. I’d told Earl he wasn’t my type. He was so drunk, I doubt he’ll remember, so Morris said
he’d have a chat with him about lying to the police and also promised to tell Whitehouse he wasn’t to contact me ever again.”

“Will they need him to testify about—” I stopped. “Oh. Kay Ellen’s killer is dead. There won’t be a trial.”

“No trial for that murder—
if
Stanley is telling the truth,” Tom said. “That guy is such a turd.”

Kara said, “I’d love to see Earl Whitehouse get up on the witness stand, admit he dated a mill village girl and that the last place she probably went was to the mill to confront the intruder. And I’d like his father right there listening to him spill it.”

“I have to say, I’m glad Jeannie won’t have to face a trial,” I said. “She’s had enough heartache for a lifetime.”

“What will happen to her?” Kara asked.

“There’ll be a spot for her through UHP in a setting where she can learn new skills, maybe eventually earn money again. Plus they’ll help her file for social security—something she probably knows nothing about.”

“She’s at the pastorium now, though? Until she recovers?” Kara said.

“Right.” Sorrow came over me then. She didn’t know how her daughter died; she didn’t know her remains had been removed. I had to be the one to tell her. She deserved to know.

“What’s wrong?” Tom asked.

“I’m just thinking about Jeannie,” I said. “I’ve come to care about her.”
And her little cat,
I thought.
The little cat who saved me.

*   *   *

The next morning, I showered as soon as I woke up, even though I’d showered the night before. The hot water soothed my aching muscles. Stanley had shoved me, hit me, pulled me all over that mill kitchen, and my body made sure to remind me. But I’d be fine in a few days.

I put on jeans and a dark pink sweatshirt and walked
out to the living room, three cats leading the way. Tom was still asleep on the sofa. Last night Kara had to leave to write up the story for the
Messenger
and Tom had adamantly refused to leave me by myself.

I tiptoed past him into the kitchen and quickly fed my three amigos before they started meowing for their breakfast. I didn’t want to wake up Tom. I couldn’t grind coffee beans, either, I’d decided, but it all became moot when Candace’s familiar knock sounded on the back door.

She took one look at me and said, “Ouch. That’s gotta hurt.”