He wrote it all down and flipped the page. “Why are you here, Ms. Hille?”
Alyx hesitated before answering. “Althea asked me to help her get rid of some of her furniture and redecorate her condominium. We had made an appointment for today. I called several times to confirm my visit, and when I didn’t reach her, I got worried and came over anyway. The rest I’ve already told you.”
“One question, Ms. Hille. I have an appreciation for antiques, and know the value of some of these pieces. Just how were you going to help her get rid of some of the furniture?”
“What I meant was that I would buy some pieces and take the rest on consignment,” she answered pleasantly.
He closed his notebook, and Alyx asked, “Are we finished here? Am I free to go?”
“We have to get your fingerprints, and then you can go.”
“Why do you need my prints?” she asked suspiciously.
“It’s procedure, Ms. Hille.”
“What about her cat? A Siamese. I’d like to look for him and take him home with me. That’s okay, isn’t it?”
“Other than filing some paperwork with the Humane Society, I don’t see why not. Go ahead and look for the cat, and I’ll go find someone to take your prints.”
She stood, and sat back down again. The detective saw the pallor in her cheeks and offered to get her a glass of ice water, which she accepted.
“Would you like me to call someone for you?”
“No, thank you. I need to sit for a few minutes, and I’ll be fine. Thanks for the water.”
Simon was nowhere to be found, and so we left immediately after a uniformed officer took Alyx’s fingerprints. Smarts was in the room the whole time, and I didn’t like the way he was looking at me. For a second, he had me thinking that he was going to have me paw-printed as well.
As soon as we drove away, Alyx called Maggie. She had been all right up until that point, and then when she told Maggie that Althea was dead, her eyes filled with tears, and she pulled off to the side of the road for a few minutes.
“I was going to bring her cat home with me, and I couldn’t find him.”
“He’ll probably reappear when he’s hungry.”
“Yes, except I won’t be there to see him.”
“I’ll swing over there on my way in tomorrow morning, and for the rest of the week, all right?”
“Thank you, Maggie.”
We stopped at her store only long enough to pick up Misty and Pooky. Once home, the felines and I trooped out to the lanai, where the girls barraged me with questions. Did Althea’s cat know what had happened? Was he upset? Who was taking care of him? I told them we hadn’t found Simon. Then I asked Misty what had happened in the shop while we were gone. She communicated that she was on the counter by the front door the whole time that I was gone, and didn’t see the thief or any other suspicious-looking person. The most exciting thing that happened was that Pooky got stuck in an open drawer she was inspecting. Pooky didn’t think it was very amusing and swatted Misty.
The communication came to a halt when Alyx came out on the lanai with a tuna salad sandwich. She ate half her sandwich and put the rest on her plate. I jumped on her lap and licked her hand, offering comfort as best I could, hoping for a taste of tuna. The others hunched quietly nearby for the same reason, also hoping for some leftovers. Then the home phone rang, and I positioned myself to hear the conversation––something I regularly do so I know what’s going on.
“Are you all right, Alyx?” Hunter asked when Alyx answered, pressing the button for speakerphone.
“How did you know I was home?”
“When you didn’t answer your cell phone I called the store. Bernice told me about Althea and that you’d gone home. I’m sorry. I know you were fond of her,” he said, “It must have been awful for you, finding her body.”
His voice was kind. Alyx sank deeper into my favorite chair and laid her head back. They talked a while and made a tentative date for later in the week. Alyx looked around the room she loved. She told Maggie that the mix of old, new and antiques together with the wood floor covered in colorful antique rugs made her feel grounded. She had brought work home with her and stayed busy the rest of the afternoon, detailing her part of the renovation for the arrogant new client who wanted her million-dollar home restored to its 1930s splendor.
The beachside home had deteriorated through neglect, and Alyx was thrilled when the home went up for sale. She had told Ethan that she hoped the new owners would restore it rather than have it razed. Maggie was clearly not impressed with the new owner, Linda Stone and told her so. Nevertheless, Alyx wanted to work on the house and Maggie agreed to take on the job, accepting her argument that the profit would be worth the effort––an odd argument coming from Alyx or Maggie for that matter.
“Most beds sleep up to six cats. Ten cats without the owner.”
––Stephen Baker
CHAPTER SEVEN: A Pioneer Christmas
Alyx found the perfect lamp she’d been looking for on-line, completed the transaction and logged off when a car came up the drive. Before she could get to the door, she heard Ethan’s familiar greeting, “Hi, Mom; it’s me––your one and only son.”
“Hi, honey. I’m in the office.”
Misty pawed Ethan’s pockets for the expected treat he always brought whenever he visited, and we weren’t disappointed with the tasty morsels he produced. About six feet tall, with blue eyes, short black hair and a thin-line beard, Ethan, considered handsome by human female standards, gave his mother a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.
“I’ve missed you… been busy?” she asked casually.
“Sorry I haven’t been over, Mom. Nikki and I went to South Beach for a couple of days.”
“You could have told me that when I called you instead of letting me wonder what was going on.”
“Yeah, I know. You always worry when I tell you I’m going out of town, and I didn’t want you to worry. Besides, I’m twenty-three,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders, “I shouldn’t have to tell my mother everything I do.”
Having had only each other since her divorce years earlier, the mother-child bond was strong––except Ethan was no longer a child. Occasionally, Alyx had trouble remembering that, this time she did remember and wisely said no more on the subject other than, “I’m glad you’re back safe and sound.”
She served the cherry pie she’d picked up from the bakery, at the kitchen table where a bank of windows framed a perfect Southern picture––a huge magnolia tree with a white wrought iron bench sitting under its shady canopy. Alyx had designed the kitchen around the enamel-topped, 1940’s table and chairs that had been in her parent’s basement and that still held pleasant memories of the many family gatherings that had taken place while her parents were still living.
She told Ethan about Althea. “It was only yesterday that she was making plans for her future, for starting a new life.”
He asked if she knew the actual cause of death.
“No, I don’t. The fact is, I may never know.”
She mentioned Simon, the missing cat. “I know Althea would want me to make sure he has a home. But I don’t want another cat.” She gave him one of her special smiles, “How would you like to have a sleek, handsome Siamese cat?”
I liked the idea and tapped my tail. Misty saw my reaction and turned her back to me in obvious disapproval.
“Maybe, if he’s anything like Murfy.”
“I’ll let you know if he turns up.”
“Mom, I’m not promising. …”
“I know,” she said as she cleared the table. “So do you have plans for this week-end?”
“Yes. Nikki read in the paper that the old pioneer settlement is hosting its annual A Florida Christmas. Neither one of us has been there since we were in high school.”