“No, it’s not that. It’s this whole situation.” Clara looked at Laurel and then Harriet. The time for secrets, she realized, was over. “There’s something I haven’t told you. A lot, actually.”
With her ears tuned for Becca’s footsteps on the stairs, Clara filled her sisters in on what had happened. The lunch, running into Gaia, and, more disturbing to the little calico, her interaction with both Margaret and Elizabeth. As she described the older woman, tall with that wiry silver hair and a beak-like nose that seemed to draw her dark eyes close together, Harriet rose to her feet. Thinking that her oldest sister was simply getting restless, Clara hurried to finish.
“That look was bad enough,” she said, ears flicking backward at the memory. “But then that Gaia said something that really freaked me out. She said that this Elizabeth was looking for Becca, only she called her Clara. Like maybe she was really looking for me.”
“Huh.” Eyes closed, Laurel sniffed dismissively. “Like the runt of the litter, Clara the clown, would be the feline she sought.”
“I’m the one she saw,” Clara offered, hoping to appease her sister. She had her own thoughts as to why the wiry-haired woman had asked for her, but there was no sense in antagonizing her sisters. “Becca’s smart. She must have figured it out. Elizabeth is taking over the shop. She’s getting rid of stuff, and it looked like she was maybe gardening. That could mean she was doing something else with that poison plant. Plus, she said that her sister was better off without Frank.”
“And she fired Gaia?” Harriet took a while to understand, sometimes.
Clara resisted the urge to nip her older sister. “The girl is lucky! At least she got out alive. But that’s not the strangest thing. This Elizabeth, it’s like she staged all this to bring in our Becca. She spoke as if she knew Frank was going to die. As if she was already planning—”
“Well, what’s going on here?”
Clara turned. Harriet sunk down onto her belly, and Laurel jumped as Becca shut the door behind her. They’d all been listening so intently to Clara they’d missed the sound of their person, who now stood, smiling down at her three pets.
“It almost looks like you three are having a conference. Or, should I say, a convocation?”
“More later,” Clara mewed softly as she turned toward her person.
“No sign of poison.” Laurel had already rubbed her face against Becca’s legs and now stood to bury her brown snout in Becca’s palm. “She’s clean.”
“Well, that’s a mercy!” Harriet made a desultory pass. “There are some odd scents on her though.”
“Really?” Clara pushed in, earning a slight snarl from Laurel.
“Hey, I’m working here!” One brown paw raised to bat her little sister.
“Just when I thought you were all getting along so well.” Becca’s tone was enough to make Clara slink off, tail down. “Ah well, never mind, kitties. Let me get you some dinner. I’ve got some strategizing to do.”
“Sorry.” Clara slipped in behind Laurel as the three cats followed their person into the kitchen. “Can you…?”
“On it,” said Laurel. “Something about this ‘strategizing’ I don’t like.”
“Gaia?” Even before the third can was down on its mat, Becca had her phone out. “Call me please.”
When the phone rang only a few minutes later, Becca grabbed it. By then, she was on the sofa, feet up, with her computer on her lap. Laurel was bathing on the armrest, while Clara, at her feet, sat up at attention. Harriet could still be heard in the kitchen, hoovering up the last few crumbs.
“Hey, Maddy.” As Becca closed the laptop, she put one hand over her eyes. “No, I didn’t get to the police today. I was on my way when I ran into Gaia outside the shop. I was hoping to get her to come to the cops with me, but she bolted, and I ended up talking to Margaret Cross and her sister, and it all got complicated. I’ll go tomorrow, I promise. With or without her, but it would be better if she’d come with me.”
As Clara listened, Becca ran through the events of the afternoon. When she got up to her decision to come home rather than continue on to the police station, Clara couldn’t help but feel like her person was intentionally leaving something out.
“You just don’t want to admit that she messed up.” Laurel, stretched along the couch back, managed to mute her usual Siamese voice.
“You weren’t there.” Clara shifted. “She was afraid. That woman—Elizabeth—seemed to be warning her off.” It made her uncomfortable when Laurel eavesdropped on her thoughts. Besides, she wanted to listen to the conversation.
“Like that’s any different?” The distinctive yowl grew a bit louder.
“Hush, now.” Harriet landed with a thud and, seeing that Becca had taken up most of the sofa, began to knead her instead.
“Come to think of it,” Becca was saying. “I’m going to try Gaia again now.”
Laurel glared at Clara, but Clara only had eyes for Becca as she punched in the by-now familiar number. Something was very wrong. She could feel it.
“Hey!” With a startled mew, Harriet leaped sideways to avoid the laptop, which slid to the sofa beside her. “What’s going on?”
Neither of her sisters answered, although Clara joined Laurel on the sofa back as Becca rose and began to pace.
“Hey, Gaia. Thanks for picking up.” Becca was doing her best to be casual. Clara could hear the slight sing-song cadence of her voice. Until she stopped and stood up straight. “Gaia, what’s wrong? You don’t sound good. You—what? Did you say ‘numb’? Where are you?” She started looking around, and Clara rolled a pencil out from under the sofa for her person to grab. “I’ll call you right back.”
“Emergency? I just spoke with a friend at 932 River…” As Becca spoke, she headed toward the door, grabbing her coat as she did. “You need to send an ambulance there now.”
Chapter 20
Clara didn’t even consult with her sisters. As quickly as she could fade her orange spots to gray, she followed Becca out the door and down to the street, where Becca hailed a passing cab. Overcoming her natural feline distrust of motorized vehicles, Clara even managed to scramble onto the black vinyl seat beside her.
“Mount Auburn Hospital,” Becca told the cabbie. “I’m sorry, I don’t have the address.”
“Emergency?” The cabbie’s voice emerged from his darkly shadowed jowls.
“What? No, I’m fine.”
“Emergency room, I meant.” Dark eyes caught hers in the rearview. “Don’t worry. I actually drive for a living.”
“Of course.” Clara didn’t understand the slight blush that crept into Becca’s cheeks. She did know that the car was moving more smoothly than Becca’s usual ride shares. In the seat beside her, Clara was taking no chances, however, and dug her claws into the slick upholstery. The small risk that Becca would notice the indents was worth not being thrown around should the car stop short.
“Uh, miss?” Clara needn’t have worried. Becca was so distracted that she was halfway out of the cab before the driver called her back.
“I’m sorry.” Becca fished out her wallet and handed the driver a bill. “And thanks.”
If Clara thought the ride was bad, the scene that met her when she followed Becca through the sliding glass doors was worse. Beeps and blats, along with a terrifying array of smells stopped her in her tracks. Only the rattle of wheels alerted her to jump to one side in time to avoid being run down as some kind of a trolley rolled by, propelled by four white-clad feet clearly in a hurry.