It didn’t really surprise me. Hercules couldn’t spontaneously disappear the way Owen did. His “talent” was walking through walls—and doors. It didn’t really seem that big of a stretch that he could strike a few poses for the camera. Or catch the scent of a dead body across the street.
I leaned against the doorframe and watched Ruby work until she straightened up and saw me. “Hey, Kathleen,” she said. “C’mon in.” She set the camera on the table and massaged the back of her neck with one hand. “I went ahead and took some pictures. I don’t mean to be insensitive, but the auction is just a few weeks away.” She glanced at the windows overlooking the street. “I can’t do anything for Mike Glazer,” she said quietly, “but maybe I can help save some cats.”
“It’s not insensitive,” I said. “It isn’t going to help anyone if you don’t do the painting for the auction.”
Ruby bent down and reached for the fabric tote bag on the floor by her feet. Hercules didn’t so much as flick an eyelash in my direction. All his attention was focused on Ruby.
She pulled a little brown and yellow box out of her bag, and he wrinkled his nose and sniffed. “They’re organic cat treats,” she said. “Roma said they’d be okay.”
“Go ahead,” I said.
Ruby poured a little pile of what looked like fish-shaped crackers on the table. Hercules meowed his thanks and dipped his head to eat. After the first cracker, he made a rumbly sigh of satisfaction deep in his throat.
I grinned at Ruby. “I think you’re his new best friend.”
She grinned back at me. “Fine with me.” Then her expression grew serious. “Did Detective Gordon show up?”
I nodded and looked around for the cat carrier. “He’s coming over in a few minutes. I’m going to take Hercules and go wait down by the door for him.”
Hercules put one paw on top of the dwindling pile of cat treats and shot me a warning glare.
Which Ruby saw. “He’s not going anywhere,” she said. “And you don’t have to either.”
“I know Marcus isn’t one of your favorite people . . ,” I began.
“No, he isn’t,” Ruby said, folding her arms over her chest. “But you are, and I like the furry guy, too.” She inclined her head in the cat’s direction.
Herc gave her an adoring look and dropped his head over his food again.
Ruby shrugged. “And I figure it’s not really good karma to keep on holding a grudge.” She smiled then. “So help me choose which photo of Hercules to use.”
We had the choice of photos narrowed down to three when Marcus knocked on the studio door.
Ruby got to her feet. “Come in, Detective,” she said. Her voice was formal, but not unwelcoming.
Marcus came into the room as far as the center worktable. Hercules gave him a curious look and went back to washing his tail.
“I have a couple of questions, if you don’t mind,” Marcus said.
I wondered what he’d do if Ruby said she did mind.
But she didn’t. “It’s all right,” she said, dropping back down onto the wooden stool where she’d been sitting before he knocked.
“Where was Kathleen when you got here?” he asked.
“Across the street, standing on the grass in front of the tents, talking on her cell phone.”
Marcus gave an almost imperceptible nod. “What did you do?”
Ruby twisted the half-dozen narrow cord bracelets on her right arm around her wrist. “I walked over to her. When I got close, I could tell by her expression that something was wrong. She told me she’d found Mike Glazer’s body in the tent and she’d already called nine-one-one.”
“Did you go see the body for yourself?”
She shook her head. “No. Kathleen’s not the kind of person who would make something like that up. I got the cat carrier from her and brought Hercules over here.”
At the sound of his name, Herc looked over at Marcus and meowed.
I thought I saw something close to a smile cross Marcus’s face. He looked at me. “Kathleen, I need to look at his paws,” he said.
“Sure,” I said, getting to my feet. “What are you looking for? He’s already washed the front two.”
“Does Hercules need a lawyer?” Ruby asked. Her expression was serious except for the gleam in her eyes.
Before Marcus could answer, the cat looked at him and meowed loudly again.
“I think he just waived his right to counsel, at least for now,” I said.
“I just want to make sure he didn’t pick up anything on a paw that might be evidence,” Marcus explained.
I held up Hercules’s paws one at a time, and Marcus looked each one over carefully while the cat, in turn, seemed to be intently studying the detective’s face.
“Thank you,” Marcus said when he was finished, and it almost seemed as though he were directing the words more to Hercules than to me.
“Do you need anything else?” I asked. I’d almost asked if he had any questions for the cat.
He shook his head. “That’s it for now.” He leaned sideways to look around me. “Thank you,” he said to Ruby.
“You’re welcome,” she said.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Marcus said softly to me.
I nodded, and he left. I spent a few more minutes with Ruby, and then I nudged Hercules back into the bag. I had just enough time to get back up the hill and get dressed for work before it was time to open the library.
As soon as I pulled out of the parking lot, Herc poked his black-and-white head out of the bag, followed by one paw and then the other.
“How did you know Mike Glazer’s body was in the tent?” I asked when we got to the stop sign at the corner.
The cat wrinkled his nose and his whiskers twitched.
“That’s what I thought,” I said, flicking on my turn signal and heading up Mountain Road. “Did you see anything—or anyone?” I shot a quick glance to the right just in time to see him put a paw over his face and duck his head. I had no idea what he meant—or if he’d even understood the question. Between their unique, magical talents and their ability to listen intently, it was easy to forget that Hercules and Owen were still just cats.
On the other hand, every time I’d gotten mixed up in one of Marcus’s cases, they seemed to as well. Each time, the boys had found something that had helped me figure out the killer’s identity. Maybe it was all a coincidence. Maybe.
There was no sign of Owen when we got home. I changed, grabbed the lunch I’d made earlier and drove down to the library. Susan was coming up the street as I pulled into the parking lot, and she waited for me at the bottom of the library steps. She was wearing her black cat’s-eye glasses, and her hair was in its usual Pebbles Flintstone updo, secured with a small cocktail fork. Sometimes I wondered if the twins did her hair every morning.
“Good morning,” she said, a huge smile lighting up her face.
I smiled back. “Good morning.” I went ahead of her up the stairs, opened the doors and disarmed the alarm system.