The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon

Karen said, “Did you call him? If so, why in God’s good name would you do such a thing?”

Tom held up a hand. “I haven’t figured out why Bob showed up here. But he’s at my house.”

Karen rested her hand over her heart. “Oh my.”

“You never liked him, did you, Nana?” Finn said. “How come?”

She put an arm around Finn. “You know, I believe Thomas is correct. We can talk about all this later. As for Hilary, I’m certain she’s quite distressed over losing her husband. Where will she stay? I could offer to—”

“Please don’t, Mom,” Tom said, his tone firm.

I said, “I understand she’ll be staying at the Pink House.”

“I take it you won’t be staying there with her, Finn?” Karen said.

“Um, no.” Finn focused on his empty plate.

“Then you can come to my house,” Karen said. “The place is small, but there’s always room for you.”

“Mom, he has a dog,” Tom said.

Karen blinked several times. “Oh. A dog. That would be a problem,” she said, obviously disappointed.

Tom looked at Finn. “Mom’s friend Ed—you remember I told you about him?—anyway, he’s afraid of dogs.”

“It’s okay, Nana,” Finn said. “I’ll find somewhere to stay.”

“You are more than welcome to continue on at my place,” I said.

“Thanks, Jillian,” Tom said, “but as soon as I get rid of Bob—which is next on my agenda—Finn can come to my house.”

“Poor Yoshi will have to get used to yet another cat,” I said, thinking of Dashiell. I pulled my phone from my pocket. “Check this out, Finn.” I showed him my cat cam and, sure enough, Yoshi and Merlot were sleeping in the living room. “They’re not snuggling up yet, but for only one day, this is progress.”

Finn took the phone and smiled. “This cat cam is one fine app.”

“Tom set it up for me so I can see what my cats are doing when I’m not at home,” I said.

Karen peered over at the display. “Toshi is cute,” she said.

“Yoshi,” Finn said, playing with the phone to see different angles of the room. Didn’t need any instruction, I noted.

Unfortunately I was being optimistic about Dashiell accepting a dog into his home. Tom seemed to have forgotten that Shawn Cuddahee, Allison’s husband and partner in running the Mercy Animal Sanctuary, rescued Dashiell right after he was attacked by two dogs.

“Before I go talk to Bob, I need to pick Dashiell up from the vet—that is, if he’s ready to come home,” Tom said.

“He is,” I said. “I called this morning and Dashiell is doing fine.”

“Good,” Tom said. “I’ll get him after we’re done here. Boy am I looking forward to seeing my big old cat, but I think telling my brother to take a hike will be the icing on the cake.”

“While you’re busy, perhaps Finn could come to my house for a while?” Karen said.

“Sure,” Finn said, still fiddling with my phone. “But not for too long. Yoshi will miss me.”

“Got any message for Bob?” Tom said to his mother.

Her blue eyes grew frosty. “No message.”

The silence hung like a thick cloud over all of us for several seconds. Tom broke the tension by saying, “Let’s go. Dashiell probably wants out of the vet clinic.”

After we left the restaurant and went our separate ways, I wondered what had happened between Tom and Bob, and between Bob and his mother. No one was offering any information, but then, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to know.

I drove home, the wonderful distraction of our conversation at the diner replaced by fatigue and worry. A man had been shot to death and Finn not only had a gun in his possession when we found him walking on the side of the road, he also had blood on his clothes. Candace would surely unearth something from the evidence to eliminate Finn as a suspect in Nolan Roth’s death. She had to. No way could she believe Finn was guilty of murder. As I approached my house, those thoughts slid to the back of my mind when I realized there was a car parked on the side of the road, one I didn’t recognize—an old banged-up blue sedan with South Carolina plates.

I pulled into the driveway and stopped about halfway up. A man immediately got out of the sedan and started toward my van. He wore no sweater or jacket in this chilly weather and his striped button-down shirt was wrinkled, his jeans baggy and his long sandy hair blew around his head in the autumn wind.

My mouth went dry. I didn’t like the looks of him.

The man came all the way up to my car, rested both hands on the driver’s-side window and stared in at me.

Thirteen

On another day, I might have rolled down the window and talked to this stranger. After all, folks made wrong turns down my street all the time and needed directions. Today, however, my gut was telling me this person didn’t need directions.

I reached for my phone on the seat next to me. Thank goodness I automatically put it close when I’m driving alone. An old habit, one I appreciated right now.

“Can I help you?” I called loud enough for him to hear. I slid the arrow on the phone’s screen and pressed the phone button, ready to make a call. I was sure he’d seen me do this, but he didn’t make any move to leave.

“They said you have my boy,” the man said.

My stomach clenched. Fear can be a gift, I’d read, one that leads you to make the right decisions. Something about this man put me on high alert. I was just about to tap the speed dial number for Mercy PD when I heard the short blast of a car horn. In the side mirror, I saw Kara getting out of her car.

I wanted to yell, “No,” but it was too late. The man had moved away from my van when he heard the horn, so I opened the door and got out, still clutching my phone. I couldn’t cringe in my car while Kara was confronting this stranger.

A Belle’s Beans cup in her left hand, Kara walked up to the man and held out her right hand. “I’m Kara Hart. Who are you?”

This is exactly the sort of thing her father would do in a touchy situation, I thought.

The man tilted his head and stared through narrowed eyes, ignoring her hand. “They told me the name was Jillian Hart, not Kara.”

She dropped her hand. “Who told you?” she said evenly.

Always the questioner, Kara’s even tone not only quieted my nerves, but seemed to do the same for this man.

His expression grew less wary. “The people in the diner. They said I just missed you, that Finn was with you.”

Kara briefly looked my way and said, “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Rory Gannon. Now, where’s my boy?” he said.

Finn’s biological father. How did the so-called phantom end up in Mercy? This can’t be a coincidence.

“Kara,” I said, trying to match her cool amicability. “This is Finn’s father.”

I saw a hint of confusion cloud her face for an instant, but then she was back on her game. She smiled. “Okay. Finn’s father. When did you get into town, Mr. Gannon?”

He ignored her question and looked at me. “Are you Jillian or is she the one I need to talk to?”

“I’m Jillian.”

“Is he with you?” he said.

“I’m sorry, but no,” I said.

This obviously wasn’t what he wanted to hear. His agitation was evident in eyes that darted everywhere. His