“Say Caroline knew Pearl was keeping a double set of books,” Dallas said, “she made a copy, put the original back.”
“But she didn’t report the thefts,” Max said. “As if she meant to blackmail Pearl?”
“Or she didn’t have time?” Dallas said. “Say Pearl booby-trapped the drawer, slipped a hair across the opening, something so she knew it had been tampered with. She figures it was Caroline, maybe Caroline had been nosing around before that. Pearl kills Martin and Caroline not only out of jealousy, but to stop Caroline from turning over the copies to Beckman or to the law.”
Ryan was embarrassed to be inadvertently eavesdropping, though she hadn’t heard anything the two men wouldn’t have told her. But Joe Grey smiled with satisfaction as the officers fitted the pieces together—with no clue that they were helping to inform their prime snitch as well.
Not until Max and Dallas moved away did Joe and Ryan leave their hideaway and return to join their guests. The crowd had doubled, the front door stood open, and the street was lined with cars—not much chance of robbers here, with half the guests in uniform and armed, sitting down only long enough to enjoy the pre-Christmas treats. Sunlight slanted in through the open front door, warming the living room where happy diners sat with their loaded plates on their laps. There was a crowd in the kitchen around the buffet, too, and outside on the back patio where the sun’s heat bounced off the high plaster wall, guests sat elbow to elbow at four long tables enjoying the feast. Joe was winding between pant legs and bare ankles, heading for the living room, when Lucinda and Pedric Greenlaw arrived, Pedric carrying Kit on his shoulder. As the tortoiseshell leaped to the mantel, out of the way of hard shoes, the tall, slim, gray-haired couple stood talking with Clyde. Behind them, Wilma and Dulcie came in, Wilma dressed in jeans and a red blazer with a sprig of holly on her lapel, her white hair done in a braid that circled her head. Dulcie jumped to the mantel, too, beside Kit, and Joe made a flying leap to join them. Clyde headed for the kitchen and soon returned with three small, cat-sized plates loaded with delicacies, which he set before them. Around the cats, there were scattered moments of silence as newcomers bowed their heads in prayers of thanks before they settled down to enjoy their meal. Maybe law enforcement families, Joe thought, were more aware than most of the preciousness of life, more thankful for what they had. When he looked up, Maudie and Benny were just coming in.
Maudie was dressed in one of her soft-toned quilted smocks over neatly creased slacks. Benny wore his tan chinos and a blue V-necked sweater over a white shirt. The moment they entered, the little boy pressed against his grandmother, staring up at the crowd—but then he saw Rock sitting beside the couch with his head on Kathleen Ray’s lap, and the little boy went straight to the big Weimaraner.
Rock let Benny grab him in a bear hug that would have angered many dogs, but the Weimaraner only licked Benny’s ear and wagged his short tail. Kathleen moved over on the couch to make room for Maudie; the detective was dressed for surveillance in faded jeans, an old faded T-shirt, and worn jogging shoes. Joe had seen her arrive in an older Ford sedan, one of the unobtrusive cars Max sometimes obtained from Rent-a-Wreck when he wanted his officers to move about the village unnoticed.
“Are you getting moved in?” Kathleen asked Maudie. “That’s not a job I like.”
“Actually,” Maudie said, “I’m doing pretty well. Our tree is up, I have most everything put away, and I’m moved into the new studio.”
“That wasn’t easy, with your hurt shoulder. It’s been, what, eight months since you were shot? That’s another thing that seems to take forever, to recover from a wound like that.”
“I’ve been using a rolling cart,” Maudie said. “One of those lightweight office models that I can shove the boxes onto.” She smiled. “That’s given my other arm a workout. I’m just glad it wasn’t my right shoulder that was hit.” She looked up when Lori and Cora Lee arrived, along with Mavity Flowers. The other two senior ladies were gone for the holidays, Susan Brittain to her daughter in San Francisco, Gabrielle, always looking for a new beau, off on a cruise to Greece. Lori took Benny’s hand and they headed straight for the kitchen buffet table, Cora Lee following the hungry pair.
Ryan came to join Maudie and Juana Davis, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “That little boy idolizes Lori. He told me he didn’t know girls could hammer and saw so straight.”
Maudie laughed. “Benny loves having someone besides an old woman for company, and Lori’s good with him. He’s enamored of Rock, too … I thought, for his birthday—it’s just two days before Christmas—I’d go out to the pound, see if they have a really nice young dog. What do you think?”
“I think that’s a great idea,” Ryan said. “Your backyard’s already fenced, with a lawn where a boy and a dog can play. Or you might decide to take Benny with you, let him pick out his own dog?” She went silent as Benny, Lori, and Cora Lee returned with loaded plates. All three sat down on the floor beside Ryan to enjoy their supper, Cora Lee nearly as supple as the children.
“The nativity pageant starts at four,” Cora Lee said. She looked up at Maudie. “You are coming, you won’t mind the crowd?”
“I’m a bit under the weather,” Maudie said. “My shoulder’s hurting, but nothing to worry about.”
“We can take Benny,” Cora Lee offered. “See the pageant, take a wagon ride, then I’ll bring him home.” She reached to pat Maudie’s hand. “No one would dare bother him with us, in that crowd.”
“I could pick him up here,” Maudie said, glancing at Ryan. “If that would be all right? It would be closer for Cora Lee.”
“That’s fine,” Ryan said. “Rock will be happy of the company.” Her glance said, No one will bother him here, either, in front of half the department. Soon Maudie had risen and hurried away, down the street to her car. Padding out to the porch, Joe watched her with interest, thinking about her returning to her empty house alone. He had turned back inside when Kit streaked past him out the front door and up the nearest pine and took off, heading for Maudie’s. As if she didn’t want to see Maudie go home alone, with so much activity in the village inviting mischief in the quieter neighborhoods.
Or did Kit not want Misto to face an emergency alone? Or, fascinated as she was by the grandfatherly cat, was she simply using Maudie’s departure as an excuse to share Misto’s vigil and perhaps learn more about him?
36
MAUDIE’S CAR STOOD in the drive and a soft light burned in her upstairs bedroom, but from up the street where Kit and Misto crouched on the Damen cottage roof, they couldn’t see the front door of the Tudor bungalow. The cell phone lay beside them, next to Misto’s plate, which he had licked sparkling clean. Above the mottled oak branches, heavy gray clouds were blowing in, leaving only patches of darkening blue as evening closed around them—but it wouldn’t rain for the Nativity play, the air didn’t smell of rain.
Lights would be bright down in the village, every house sparkling with decorations, the shopping plaza ablaze with hundreds of tiny lights for the pageant. Kit imagined folk crowded along the plaza’s upstairs balconies, against the shop windows below, and lined up all around the big, enclosed garden where the Nativity drama would be played out. She imagined Benny and Lori afterward, riding all over the village in a horse-drawn buggy. Kit had ridden on the back of a horse once, sitting in front of Charlie, but never in a wagon with a driver snapping his whip.