“Yes, I confess,” she said, taking down two demitasse cups from a cabinet and setting them on a tray. She added two small spoons along with a bowl of sugar. She poured the dark, aromatic liquid, and Hunter carried the tray to the living room.
The conversation flowed smoothly. They talked of their work and their passions. He made her laugh when he told her about the first case he’d argued. After a while, Hunter put his coffee down and took her hand. “I’ve really enjoyed our time together tonight. I’m sorry it didn’t happen sooner,” he cleared his throat, “I… was somewhat involved with someone when I met you, and it’s taken this long to settle it.”
Her first reaction was confusion followed by disappointment. “I don’t understand. When I invited you to my house before, for the celebration dinner, you said there was no wife or girlfriend. You’ve never mentioned anyone during any of the times we’ve spoken.”
He nodded and tried to explain. “I was separated at the time…had been for six months. Joann had a hard time with it even though it was her idea. She kept me on a string for a long-time… until I forced the decision. The divorce was final two weeks ago.”
“David, I’d say you were more than somewhat involved. I understand why you didn’t tell me before––we never really discussed anything personal those few times you came in or we had coffee; I just assumed you were free,” she said, pulling her hand away and reaching for the coffee.
“Do you have any children?”
“No, Joann didn’t want any children.”
“How long were you married?”
“Twenty years.”
“Were you happy most of that time?”
“Yes and no. For a long time I loved her more than she loved me.”
“How about you, were you happy most of the time you were married?”
“Yes, I was until the day Bob told me he didn’t love me anymore.”
She didn’t have to tell him a whole lot more as he had learned everything about her while working on her son Ethan’s case earlier that year.
“The evening has gone by too quickly,” he said as she walked him to the door, and Alyx agreed.
“Thank you for a lovely evening, Alyx.” He turned and kissed her lightly, his lips barely touching hers, the same way cats touch noses without actually making contact in greeting one another. I didn’t need to see any more of that and trotted away.
I heard Alyx say, “Good night, David. I think you had better go. I’m not ready for anything more.”
I didn’t understand what that meant, but I didn’t miss the disappointment in his sigh when he said, “Okay, Alyx… I’ll be in touch.”
The door closed and I sauntered back to the foyer. Alyx had her back pressed against the door. The look on her face when she went down on one knee to stroke my head wasn’t one I expected. I liked Hunter, and I thought she liked him too––but now, even I––a stranger to romance––knew something was amiss.
“Some cats is blind. And stone-deaf some. But ain’t no cat wuz ever dumb.”
––Anthony Ewer
CHAPTER FIVE: Something Wrong
The day began as it usually did; our routine the same as the day before, except that when Alyx was ready to leave, all three of us followed her to the truck.
“Okay, I get it. You all want to go today, right?”
The cottage-style bungalow where we live is located in the historic district of Beachside, about two blocks from the store. The neighborhood, still in the process of redevelopment, is a mix of architectural styles as the people living there are a mix of ages, young couples with children, middle-aged and retired folks who have lived there many years, and a handful of Florida natives.
Pooky took the ride better than I expected––she was only slightly hyperventilating when we arrived at the store a few minutes later. Bernice, a thirty-something, flamboyant dresser, and middle-aged Nelda, her opposite and equally competent employee, were already there. Bernice helped with the carriers; no small feat since I alone weigh sixteen pounds more or less, and I think it’s probably more rather than less.
Nelda made the mistake of reaching for Pooky and got her hand smacked as a gentle warning not to touch.
“Don’t mind her, Nelda, she’s like that with everybody; she’s not as sociable as the other two cats,” said Alyx. “You’d think she’d want to stay home––she was the first one out.”
“Thanks for the warning. I’ll make sure the customers leave her alone too.”
It had been a while since Pooky was in the store last, and she took off sniffing and touching, investigating her surroundings.
“You know that you and Bernice will be here by yourselves for most of the day, right? I promised Althea I’d help her redecorate her living room, and I expect to be there all morning and maybe through lunch.”
“That won’t be a problem. Bernice and I can handle the customers, and we’ll watch the cats.”
“I’m taking Murfy with me, so he can play with her cat Simon while I work. Althea thinks her cat needs a playmate.”
Nelda laughed. “The notion that a cat needs anybody, even another cat, is hilarious.”
More than a half-hour later, Alyx was still trying to reach Althea on the phone to confirm our visit.
Bernice caught up with her when her customer walked away and asked if she was still going to Althea’s place.
“I’ve been calling for the past thirty minutes and she’s not answering her phone. I’m a little worried about her.”
“Maybe she ran out to get something,” offered Bernice by way of explanation.
“She’s expecting me; I don’t think she’d leave without calling. I hope you’re right.”
Alyx kept trying to reach Althea without success, giving Misty and Pooky the opportunity to corner me and let me know that they didn’t appreciate the fact that I’d dragged them to the store claiming it was important, and then I take off on a play date.
They were right to be angry. I should have explained. I apologized for my error, and I knew from their silence that my apology wasn’t accepted. No matter, we still had a job to do, and I told them what to look for and what to do if the thief came back.
“As every cat owner knows, no one owns a cat.”
––Ellen Perry Berkeley
CHAPTER SIX: No Need to Hurry
Althea lived in a condominium community on the river, minutes from the new bridge. Althea’s car was in the driveway, so Alyx parked in the space reserved for visitors. She rang the bell several times, knocked, and there was still no answer. She tried the door and amazingly it opened.
“Hello? Althea, it’s me, Alyx, are you home?” The stillness was unsettling. Aware that a cat lived there, Alyx closed the door behind us. She called again. No answer. She moved slowly into the living room and there was Althea, crumpled in a heap at the foot of the stairs. Alyx unceremoniously deposited the carrier with me in it where she stood, and crossed the short distance in a heartbeat. But I knew there was no need to hurry. Althea was dead.
A short time later, the police arrived. I immediately recognized Detective Smarts. He had wrongfully arrested Alyx’s son Ethan earlier in the year, and I hadn’t forgotten. I didn’t think much of his detective skills and I openly expressed my feelings. That is to say, I hissed and snarled at him. He practically snarled back. Alyx, on the other hand, politely answered his questions, telling him what she knew, keeping her feelings to herself.
Smarts asked her if Althea had any relatives.
“She did mention one niece, her husband’s niece, actually.”
“Do you know her name or where she lives?”
“Her first name is Carole. Her last name sounds like dirt––no wait––earth. That’s it! Carole Berth and I think she lives in Umatilla.”