heart attack. And I didn't care if he was. I rushed through the curtains, into a small sitting room/kitchen combination, where half a dozen cat carriers stood along the wall.
Fred's plaintive wail was instantly recognizable.
“Baby,” I cooed, pulling him out of the container.
“Yes, sweetie, Mama's here.” There are times when he tries to talk, and this was one of them.
“I thought I'd never see you again.” Tears flowed down my cheeks, as I hugged his warm, soft body.
“How could you?” I demanded of Raymond, who had padded into the room. “How dare you steal my cat?”
“I was going to bring him back, really I was. Remember when you told me he had artistic talents? That's when I knew I had to check him out.”
“I told you what?”
“At the market, you told me he'd painted a design on your kitchen floor.”
“Good grief! I was only trying to make conversation. You sneaked into my house while I was sleeping and stole him, didn't you?”
He nodded, looking so sheepish I would have laughed if I hadn't been furious with him.
“Why didn't you simply ask me if you could borrow him for a few days?”
“Like you'd let me take your cat!” Raymond flung a pudgy hand up to his chest. “My heart…” he gasped.
“Stop it, Raymond. You are not getting any sympathy from me.”
When he suddenly turned a strange shade of grayish-blue and collapsed on the couch, I realized he wasn't kidding.
“Shall I call an ambulance?”
“Pills. Over there.” He waved a hand in the direction of a rolltop desk. By the time I got back to him, Fred was curled up on his lap.
He took a pill and recovered quickly. Rather too quickly, I thought, but then I'm no expert on heart conditions. Fred was content to stay where he was.
This was a good sign, I figured. It meant that Raymond had not mistreated him, for Fred was a good judge of character and would never have anything to do with someone who had hurt him.
“Can I get you a cup of tea or something?” I asked.
“My, yes. That would be lovely. There's a full kettle on the stove and some peppermint tea on the counter. Fix one for yourself, too, dear.”
While I waited for the water to boil, I looked around the small room and realized the couch on which he was sitting was a sleep sofa. This was obviously where Raymond lived. There were no paintings in here, only framed photographs, dozens of them covering every inch of wall space and sitting on every flat surface.
“Family and friends,” he said. “Mostly all gone now.” His voice was mournful.
I picked up a photograph of a beautiful woman to take a closer look at her gorgeous beaded Victorian gown. “She's very lovely. Who was she?”
“Grandma Zook. She was a great beauty. The toast of Lancaster.”
I replaced it next to a smaller photo of a group of children that obviously dated from a more recent time, the sixties, I'd guess.
He saw what I was looking at and said, “That's me on the left.” The chubby little boy who smiled at the camera long ago bore a close resemblance to the rotund gentleman on the couch.
“I'd have recognized you anywhere. Who are the others?”
“Just some of the kids I used to hang out with.” He came over and took the photo from my hands. “That's Oretta Clopper there.” He indicated a dainty blonde child with a shy smile.
“Wow. Did she ever change.”
“In many ways. She was such a sweet little girl, but she grew up to be one stubborn bitch-never would admit that the animals at the shelter had talents that needed to be nurtured.” He smiled, but it faded quickly. “That little boy kneeling on the ground in front of us was Eddie Douglas.”
I took the photo and studied the dead child's face. So this was what Eddie had looked like. Sandy-haired. Freckle-faced. An ordinary kid, who should have had a chance to grow up to be an ordinary man. From the age he appeared to be, I guessed the picture must have been taken only shortly before he disappeared.
“He was younger than you, wasn't he?”
“About five years.”
“Kind of odd he hung out with you older kids, wasn't it?”
Raymond shook his head. “All the neighborhood kids played together. It didn't matter how old they were.”
“Who's the little girl on the end?” I asked. “She looks to be about Eddie's age.”
“Well, of course she does,” Raymond said. “That was Eugenia Douglas, Eddie's twin sister.”
CHAPTER 21
“PRAXYTHEA, I'M HOME. AND I'VE FOUND Fred.” The echoes in the dark interior of the house signaled that I was alone. In addition, there were none of the usual signs that Praxythea had been there: no cookies baking, no coffeepot on the stove. I wondered what she'd found to occupy her in Lickin Creek on a quiet Sunday afternoon, but I wasn't really concerned. Women like Praxythea seem to have unlimited inner resources.
I put Fred on the floor and placed a bowl of Tasty Tabby Treats in front of him. No telling what he'd been eating during his ordeal. Noel approached him cautiously as he gobbled his food.
“Yes, Noel, it's Fred,” I told her.
She sniffed him from head to toe. After deciding it really was Fred, she knocked him on his back with one swipe of her front paw and began to lick his stomach. Fred just lay there with a goofy expression on his face, so I left them alone.
Coffee would be nice. I'd grown accustomed to Prax-ythea always having a fresh brew going. I filled the pot with water, found the coffee, then gave up when I couldn't find the filters and fixed a cup of instant. Sometimes the old ways are the best ways.
I still couldn't get over being astonished at what I'd discovered at Raymond's. Why hadn't anyone in town mentioned Eddie Douglas's twin sister? A call to Cassie gave me my answer.
“I'd completely forgotten,” she said. “It happened a very long time ago. And the Douglases weren't local. The father moved here to work for the defense contractor. They'd only been here a year when the tragedy struck.”
“Still, it seems odd,” I persisted.
“Think back thirty-five years in your own life, Tori.”
“I wasn't even born.”
“Exactly. Neither were at least half the people in town. If they were around, they were involved with their own lives, their own families, and their own problems. A family who moved in and out of their world in one year wouldn't make much of an impact.”
I understood what she was getting at. “If the sister's still alive, she should be notified. Do you have any idea of how to go about looking for her?”
“I'll try the police in the Texas town where the parents died. If they can tell me something, I'll call you back.”
While I talked, Noel had rolled Fred over and begun a major attack on his ears. He didn't seem to mind.
I wondered about the mystery clown. He'd never shown up at Raymond's. Even out of costume, I was sure I'd have recognized him simply by his height. What had been his purpose in luring me there? As I looked down at my cats, I thought it was almost as if Fred had somehow sent him to me. Fred, seeing I was looking at him, narrowed his blank eyes to golden slits and said,
