Owen launched himself onto the table, arched his back and yowled again, all his fur standing on end.
Blood dripped down the edge of Will’s forehead. His lips pulled away from his teeth like a rabid dog’s. He pulled back his arm to punch me. I shrank even farther against the cupboards, my good arm, my good hand grabbing for something to hang on to. I touched the ruined rolls, welded together like a cinnamon-scented chunk of rock. Without even thinking about it I grabbed them and swung for Will’s head with all the strength terror gave me.
I connected with the left side of his face. His mouth fell open. The color drained from his face as his eyes rolled back in his head and he dropped to the floor.
For a moment the only sound was my ragged breathing. “It’s okay,” I wheezed to Owen. He looked over the edge of the table at Will sprawled on the floor. “We have to get out of here,” I said.
I grabbed the cat, sidestepped around Will and backed rapidly out of the kitchen, into the porch, and against the very strong, very normal chest of Harry Taylor.
“Harry, thank heaven,” I gasped. He caught me by the arm. I winced and he dropped his hand.
“Kathleen, are you all right?” he asked.
“No. Yes.” I took a breath. “Will Redfern is on my kitchen floor,” I said, thinking that if I didn’t sit down soon I was going to be on the floor, too.
“Why’s Will on your kitchen floor?” Harry asked, leading me over to the bench.
“I hit him,” I said. I sat down and set Owen beside me. My legs were shaking. Hercules was sitting on the floor by the door.
I thought about what Will had been planning to do with the cats. And what he might have done to Gregor Easton. It made me want to hit him again, this time with something harder than a batch of failed cinnamon rolls. On the other hand, I wasn’t sure there were a lot of things harder than those rolls.
“Stay here, Kathleen,” Harry said. “I’m just going to take a look at Will.”
I nodded. As soon as Harry got up Hercules jumped up on the bench. He put his front paws on my lap and studied my face. “I’m all right,” I said. He laid his chin on my leg. Owen climbed all the way onto my lap on the other side and placed his paws on my chest. I stroked his fur. “I can’t believe you did that,” I said. “You saved me from Will.” He bumped my shoulder with his head. “Tomorrow I’m going to buy you the biggest, yellowest Fred the Funky Chicken that the Grainery has.” Owen started to purr.
Harry came out of the kitchen, his face serious. “Police are on their way,” he said.
I looked past him, heart suddenly pounding again. “Is Will . . .?”
“I tied him to the table leg with my belt,” Harry said. He wiped a hand across his forehead. “Will’s been drinking.”
“I know,” I said.
“What did you hit him with?”
“Owen jumped on . . . on Will’s head, and I hit him with a batch of rolls.”
“Remind me to say no next time you ask if I’d like coffee and a muffin,” Harry said. He held out his hand. A drywall knife with a retractable blade lay on his palm. “Will had this in his pocket. What was he doing here?”
I wrapped my aching arm around my body. “He wanted me to leave. He was . . . involved with Ingrid.”
“Ingrid? The old librarian?”
I nodded. “He got the idea if I was gone, she could come back to the library and they’d have some kind of happy ending.”
Harry shook his head. “Damned idiot,” he muttered.
“Harry, how . . . what . . . What are you doing here?” I asked.
“That cat of yours. Hercules?” He tipped his head toward Herc, who lifted his head at the sound of his name. “I was working over at Rebecca’s. Suddenly there he was, just a few feet in front of the mower. Wouldn’t move, either. He was howling like a banshee. I thought something was wrong with the cat, not you.”
I bent over and kissed the top of Herc’s head. “You went for help,” I said. He gave me his it’s not a big deal look. I didn’t want to think about what could have happened if Owen wasn’t able to disappear and Hercules couldn’t walk through walls.
“Not bad for a couple of cats,” Harry said.
“You have no idea,” I said.
23
Push Forward
A patrol car and Marcus Gordon pulled in my driveway one behind the other. Right behind them was Roma, with Maggie riding shotgun. Harry met the police officers at the door and took them into the kitchen.
Marcus stood in front of me. “Are you all right, Kathleen?” he asked.
“I am,” I said. The fear and shakiness were being replaced by anger now.
“Why was Mr. Redfern here?” he asked.
“It’s my fault,” Maggie said from the door. “Kathleen, I’m so sorry.” She looked on the verge of tears.
I shook my head. “It’s not your fault, Mags. You were right about Will. None of the accidents was an accident. He was trying to get me to go back to Boston. And I think he might have confessed to killing Gregor Easton.” I leaned forward, wincing at the pain in my shoulder.
“You’re hurt,” Roma said, easing past Maggie.
“I’ll call for an ambulance.” Marcus reached into his pocket for his phone.
I shook my head vigorously.
“No,” I said. “I’d rather have Roma. Please.”
“It’s not like we haven’t done this before,” Roma said.
The detective sighed. “Go ahead.”
Roma bent in front of me and carefully checked me over. She pulled the neck of my shirt to one side and made a face when she saw my shoulder. Then she felt her way down my arm. My wrist was already swelling and changing color.
“Are you going to have to shoot me?” I joked.
“No, but I’m thinking a good dose of cod-liver oil couldn’t hurt.”
I sucked in a breath and bit my tongue as she felt her way around my wrist.
“I’d like to get some ice on both that wrist and that shoulder,” she said.
“I’ve got ice packs in the freezer.”
“May I get them?” Roma said to Marcus.
“I’ll get them,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
Roma sat back on her heels. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’d agree to go to the emergency room for an X-ray?”
“Nope,” I said.
She looked at Maggie. “I told Kathleen that this is why I became a vet,” she said. “Two-legged patients talk back too much.” She looked at me again. “What do you think, Maggie? Any chance we could wedge her into that dog cage I have in the car and get her to the hospital?”
“You should know that like your four-legged patients, I bite.”
Roma grinned. “I knew I wasn’t going to win this one, but I do want you to go to the clinic tomorrow.”
“All right,” I said.
“I’m just going to see what’s holding up those cold packs,” Roma said, getting to her feet. She went into the kitchen.
Maggie leaned over to hug me. “You’re shivering,” she said. She reached for Rebecca’s sweater.
“That’s not dry,” I said.
Roma came back then with two cold packs, followed by Marcus. She put one on my wrist; then she eased me back against the rear of the bench and set the other on top of my shoulder.
“She’s cold,” Maggie said, looking pointedly at the police officer.
He looked around the porch and then realized Mags wanted him to surrender his sport coat.
“I’m fine,” I said.
Neither of them was listening to me. He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to Maggie. She draped it around me. It was much warmer. Hercules kept his head in my lap and Owen stayed stretched out on my chest.
Marcus folded his arms. “Okay,” he said. “Tell me what happened.”
So I did, beginning with stepping into the porch and finding Will.
“Way to go, Fuzz Face,” Maggie whispered to Owen when I got to the part about Owen landing on Will’s head.