The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon

they’re frantic with worry.”

“Maybe she didn’t seem frantic because she knows where Finn is,” I said.

Candace cocked her head. “Hmm. Interesting theory. Hadn’t considered the possibility. Maybe she and I need to have another little chat.” Candace nodded toward the table where we’d been seated. “Want the rest of your coffee?”

“I need the rest of my coffee,” I said.

Candace’s cell rang and as she answered, my mind began turning over possibilities. If Hilary knew where Finn was, it wouldn’t be because he told her. Was her story about telling him about Rory Gannon’s death true—or was it a lie, just like Tom said? I didn’t know. But just the mere idea that she knew where Finn might be gave me goose bumps.

Candace disconnected from her call. “Got word the complete tech reports on both phones are in. Maybe they’ll give me a lead on who killed these men,” she said. “Check with you later.”

After she was gone and I was headed for my minivan, I asked myself why Candace hadn’t considered the possibility Hilary might actually know where Finn was. Or was she trying not to tell me something police-related, hoping I’d figure it out for myself. If so, what?

I took a long sip of my coffee, which was quickly going cold, hoping the caffeine would kick in soon. Fumbling for my keys in my back pocket, I realized I’d parked right by one of Mercy’s forest green coin-operated newspaper boxes. I found change as well as my keys and bought a paper. The giant, block-letter headline read: more death.

I read quickly, but found nothing in the story I didn’t already know. The byline belonged to Kara, and I decided to call her and see if anything new had come to her attention since she wrote the story. When I reached her, she said she was on her way to take tile samples over to her property and maybe I could meet her and help her decide what she should put in her new kitchen.

Sounded like an excellent distraction.

Twenty-Five

The sunny days seemed to be over as dark clouds clustered in the west. I carried my umbrella up the new stone walkway leading to Kara’s soon-to-be front door. She greeted me before I could even knock.

We hugged and she glanced out at the sky. “Another cold front on the way, I expect.”

Once inside, she led me to the back of the house, where about ten different ceramic tiles were laid out on the kitchen floorboards.

Her hair was in a ponytail and she was wearing a big flannel shirt and blue jeans. She stood, hands on hips, looking down at the tiles. “What do you think of these?”

I let my eyes travel over the tiles, some big, some small and all earth tones. I pointed a toe at a large mottled beige and brown tile. “This one would complement the brown granite you picked out for your countertop.”

She nodded, still looking down. “Making all these choices—tile, brick, stone, appliances, paint colors—is proving harder than I thought.” She looked at me then. “But in a good way. Your tough times aren’t good at all. You okay after last night?” She rubbed my upper arm sympathetically.

“I’m worried, Kara. Finn ran away again. Tom drove around all night looking for him, but no one has seen or heard from him.”

“Shondra, my girl who monitors the scanner, told me she heard something about Finn disappearing. Did he go before or after he heard about his father’s murder?” she said.

“Apparently it was after.” I explained how Hilary had told Finn about Gannon’s death.

Kara cocked her head. “What is wrong with her? Though I suppose someone who marries two men who went to jail and who later ended up murdered might not be too competent at thinking through her choices and examining possible consequences.”

“Don’t forget she also married Tom, who is a far cry from the likes of Nolan Roth or Rory Gannon,” I said.

“She slipped into a period of good judgment, then ruined it by cheating on Tom,” Kara said.

“You’re right,” I said. “But after meeting her and talking to her, those mistakes don’t seem to match up with what I’ve seen. She seems, well, nice. Karen really likes her and believes Tom has been way too hard on her.”

“Karen loves Finn. I’m willing to bet she’d do anything to keep him in her life—even kiss up to a woman who did wrong by her son.” Kara’s attention returned to the tiles.

“You’re probably right,” I said. “Since Hilary was once close to Tom, I’ve been giving her the benefit of the doubt. Guess I don’t want to seem jealous—not that I am.”

Kara laughed. “You don’t have a jealous bone in your body. You know who’s nice? You. Way too nice, if you ask me.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You don’t know how to say no,” she said. “You put everyone ahead of yourself. I’m afraid you’ll burn out one day.”

“No, working in the textile arts business burned me out and is why I left to come here,” I said. “I can only be true to myself—and for the most part, that means thinking the best of people before they show me differently.”

“I guess I wouldn’t want you to change. You’re pretty special.” She knelt and picked up a creamy tile, one shinier than the others. “I like this one, but I’m afraid it would show every streak and smudge.”

“I think you’re right,” I said. “Sorry I missed seeing you last night, by the way. Were all the neighbors hanging around in the street when you got to Tom’s house—now known as the crime scene?”

“Of course. Strange how people seemed to lose interest when they found out Rory Gannon was a stranger, not a Mercy citizen. I overheard one man being interviewed by an officer, though. He said he’d seen a guy fitting Gannon’s description hanging around Tom’s house.”

“When did he see him?” I asked.

Kara pressed her thumb on the tile she held and then tilted it back and forth in the dull light coming through the windows. “Ah,” she said. “This one even picks up fingerprints. I can narrow the choice by one, anyway.” She set the tile on the floor facedown.

“When, Kara?” I said.

“Sorry. When what?”

I repeated the question.

“Day before yesterday,” she said. “I talked to the neighbor after the officer was done with him, hoping to get an angle for the paper. The neighbor said he asked the stranger if he was looking for Tom and the guy mumbled something about how his boy, Finn, needed to hear something important, that he had to find him. Then the neighbor said he took off.”

“Gannon was all over town and he obviously knew all the places Finn might be,” I said.

“Even here.” Kara shuddered. “I, for one, am glad he won’t be coming back.”

My phone rang and while Kara squatted in front of her tiles, her fist supporting her chin, I took a call from Karen.

“Jillian, I need your help. I can’t do it. I know I should be able to, but I simply cannot.”

“Slow down, Karen,” I said. “What are you talking about?”

“This blood sugar thing,” she said. “I’ve tried several times, even had Ed hold the cat for me and still no luck. Dashiell’s poor ears don’t seem to have a drop of blood left. Ed had to go to the shop for a delivery from a yard sale in Woodcrest. He said I’d figure it out, but he’s wrong. I can’t.”

Tom was probably home, just a few steps down the street, but he’d been up all night. I decided I could handle this problem while he got some rest. “Why don’t I swing by and help you?”

“Would you? Oh, how very sweet.”