Eugenie hit pause. “I should have done something sooner. I should have spoken to Elias. Kassie would have been gone and at least she wouldn’t be dead.”
“It’s not your fault,” I said. “You had no way of knowing what was going to happen.”
She shook her head. “If you make a cake with rancid butter, it doesn’t matter how good the quality of the other ingredients. The final result is ruined.”
She nudged her glasses up her nose. “Enough of me nattering on. We both have work to do. I’ll see you at tomorrow’s meeting?”
I nodded. “I’ll be there.”
I met Kate at the top of the stairs on the way out. She gave me a small, tight smile. “I didn’t think you’d be here until tomorrow,” she said. She was wearing jeans, a loose T-shirt and a baggy sweater she had wrapped around her body. She looked cold.
“I came to see Eugenie,” I said. “I heard you came first in Basics yesterday.”
She nodded. “I was lucky. Everyone else was having a bad day.” She shifted restlessly from one foot to the other. “Kathleen, I need to apologize to you.”
I frowned. “For what?”
“I didn’t mean to but I helped Caroline lie the night Kassie . . . died.”
“It’s okay,” I said, switching the nylon portfolio from one hand to the other. It was an awkward size to carry. “You didn’t do it deliberately to confuse anyone. There was no harm done.”
“Thank you for saying that.” Kate brushed the hair from her face. “Ruby told me what you’ve been doing. Have you managed to find anything to clear Elias?”
“Not yet.”
“He made a better choice with Peggy,” she said. “Kassie truly was a selfish person.” She shrugged. “That kind of thing can get you killed.”
chapter 18
I couldn’t get the video that Eugenie had shown me out of my mind. I kept seeing the look of fury in Caroline’s eyes as she dumped the contents of the bowl over Kassie’s head. I saw the cloud of flour and cocoa hanging in the air. I could hear Ray gasp and the sound of the jar Kate dropped shattering as it hit the floor. It kept playing on a loop over and over in my head.
I drove home and for once Owen was not sitting on a chair in the kitchen. I went upstairs and changed into comfy yoga pants and a T-shirt for tai chi. When I came back downstairs I found him in the living room peering under the sofa.
“What are you doing?” I said.
Owen jumped at the sound of my voice, smacked his head on the front edge of the couch and yowled.
I went over and kneeled down beside him. “Let me see,” I said gently. I didn’t think he was hurt. He hadn’t hit his head very hard.
He shook his head vigorously.
“Let me see,” I repeated, putting one hand on his back.
I felt all over the top of his head, gently probing with my fingers. Owen didn’t even wince and it didn’t seem like there was any kind of injury under his fur. “You’re okay,” I said, smoothing his fur. He muttered and gave the sofa the stink eye.
I reached over and felt along the edge of the piece of furniture, just to be sure there were no staples or nails that he could have gotten cut with, but there was nothing but smooth fabric. But it did look like there was something under the couch.
I put an arm around Owen and leaned sideways so I could look underneath. He immediately shifted so my view was blocked. “I’m trying to see what’s under there,” I said.
He meowed loudly and tried to look injured and pathetic. “You’re fine,” I said. I gave him a little scratch under his chin. Then I shifted sideways again, and again Owen managed to block my view.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I said. I was getting exasperated. I turned around, picked up the cat, set him down behind me and crouched close to the floor for a better look under the couch. Two paws stepped on the side of my head.
I squinted up at him. “What is wrong with you?” I snapped in frustration. Before the cat could get any more in my way I swept my arm under the piece of furniture in a wide arc, bringing several items out from underneath.
Owen had climbed off my head. I sat up and looked at my spoils. There was a thumb drive, a small pencil, half a package of gum, a lighter and an orange key chain with a tiny retractable knife shaped like a key. The thumb drive was the one Marcus had been looking for. I had seen the lighter in his SUV. He’d used the key-chain knife a couple of times to open bags of cat food out at Wisteria Hill. He’d asked me about the gum and while he hadn’t said anything about a missing pencil I was willing to bet that was his, too.
Owen had forgotten all about his head. He was suddenly engrossed in the area rug in front of the couch.
“Where did all this come from?” I said.
He pretended he hadn’t heard me. I stuck my head in front of him and put my face close to his. “All of these things? How did they get under the sofa?”
“Mrrr,” he said. He gave me his best innocent face, but just like a person he couldn’t quite look me in the eye.
I moved so I was in his range of vision again. “Owen, did you steal Marcus’s things?”
He gave me a sulky look.
I shook a finger at him. “We don’t take things that don’t belong to us.”
He muttered under his breath. “And we especially don’t take things that could start fires.” I wondered how the cat had managed to get in and out of Marcus’s SUV on two different occasions to snag the gum and the lighter. At least now Marcus knew about Owen’s ability to disappear. I wasn’t sure how I could have explained what happened otherwise.
I picked up the thumb drive and the key chain. There were teeth marks on the package of gum. I didn’t think Marcus would want that back. As I reached for it Owen stretched out a paw and pulled the pencil toward him.
I snatched it away from him. “You’re walking on thin ice, mister,” I said sternly.
He looked down at his feet, puzzled, and then his golden eyes came back to mine.
“It’s a figure of speech,” I said. I jammed the pencil and everything else into my pants pocket.
I got to my feet and rubbed my forehead with the heel of my hand. Could cats have kleptomania? Did Owen need a kitty therapist? Or maybe I needed one for even asking the question.
I was setting the table when my phone chirped. It was a text from Ruby asking if I could bring Hercules to class. She had an idea for the concept for another calendar. She wanted to pair Owen and Hercules with different artists from the co-op.
Need to see Hercules with one of Maggie’s pieces
The idea was a good one, and even better, I was happy to have Ruby focusing on something other than Kassie’s murder. I texted back a yes.
I made a big bowl of spaghetti for supper with extra cheese because it had been that kind of day. Owen moped around by my feet. I’d eaten about half of my pasta when my cell rang. I picked it up. I didn’t recognize the number on the screen, and I was about to set the phone down when I realized the area code was the one for Duluth. Dorrie Park went to school in Duluth.
“Hello,” I said.
“Is this Kathleen Paulson?” the voice on the other end asked, no pleasantries, no preamble.
“It is.”
“I’m Dorrie Park. You left me a message about the baking contest.”
I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. “Yes, I did.”
“So you’re what? Doing a little more digging into the people who are left on the show so no big secrets come out about the winner?”
“Something like that,” I said, shifting sideways in my chair and pulling one leg up underneath me.
“I shoulda guessed this would happen. What’d you want to know?”
I decided not to beat around the bush. “You dropped out right before the semifinals. But you were good enough to make it into the top three. Why did you leave?”