A Tale of Two Tabbies (7 page)

“How do we get his alibi?” Tara asked.

“I’m not sure,” I admitted.

“I’ll talk to him,” Siobhan offered. “You’d be amazed what guys are willing to tell me in exchange for a simple smile and a halfhearted compliment.”

I supposed being beautiful did have its advantages.

I woke early the next morning and decided to take Max for a quick run. I was sure we’d be busy at Coffee Cat Books and I most likely wouldn’t get much of a break, if any, but I felt wound up and anxious with everything that was going on in my life. Between the murder investigation, Maggie’s disappearance, and Cody’s uncertain future, it was a miracle I’d gotten any sleep at all.

It looked like it was going to be another beautiful day. I was more than ready for the end of winter and the arrival of spring. I tried to focus on the sound of the sea as I jogged along the sandy beach, but in spite of my best efforts, it was Cody and the decision he faced that kept returning to my mind.

I wanted to be a supportive girlfriend. I wanted to be the type of person who would put the needs of the many ahead of my own. But every time I considered my life without Cody, even for a year, I felt tension in the pit of my stomach that wouldn’t quite go away.

I watched Max as he chased the seagulls who had landed on the sand ahead of us. At least he was happy and able to completely enjoy the wonder of a warm spring morning. It must be nice to be a dog and not have to worry about any moment but the present one. I supposed Max could teach me a lot about living in the now and not worrying my life away.

After I’d traveled a couple of miles down the beach, I turned around and headed back in the other direction. It would be nice if I could take the day off and simply lounge on the beach with one of the fifty-some-odd books in my
to-be-read pile. It was somewhat ironic that I owned a bookstore yet rarely found the time to actually read.

As I neared my next-door neighbor, Francine Rivers’s house, I noticed she’d come out onto her patio and was enjoying a cup of tea with her cats, Romeo and Juliet. I waved to her and she motioned that I should join her. I really didn’t have a lot of time, but it had been a while since we’d visited, so I decided it couldn’t hurt to stop for a few minutes.

“Morning, Francine.”

“Would you and Max like to join the cats and me for tea? It’s a beautiful morning.”

“I really need to get to the bookstore on time this morning because I’m sure we’ll be busy, but I guess I have a few minutes.” I sat down on a patio chair across from Francine.

She poured me a cup and offered me a muffin. Max trotted over to lie down under the lounger where Romeo and Juliet were soaking up the sun.

“I heard about Theresa Lively,” Francine began. “Are you investigating?”

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised when my friends and neighbors assumed I’d be investigating a murder, considering the fact that I’d actually solved the previous few on the island.

“Unofficially.”

“Have you spoken to Clifford Dayton?” Francine wondered.

“Should I?”

“I would. He had a pretty loud argument with Theresa on the day she died.”

“Do you know what it was about?” I asked.

I love Francine. I really do. She’s lived next door to my Aunt Maggie my entire life, and she’s so nice and helpful to Mr. Parsons. She has a kind heart, but the woman does love to gossip, which means you have to take anything she tells you with a grain of salt. Not that she lies, exactly; it’s more that she’s prone to embellish.

Francine settled in to tell her story. “I stopped by the church on Wednesday afternoon to return the linens I volunteer to launder every week. When I arrived I heard Cliff and Theresa arguing. They stopped speaking as soon as they noticed my arrival, and I honestly didn’t catch enough of what they were saying to be sure of what they were arguing about, but I can tell you that Cliff was plenty mad. I’ve never seen
anyone
turn quite that shade of red.”

“You say this was on Wednesday?”

“Yes. Last Wednesday. I always return the linens on Wednesdays.”

“What time on Wednesday would you say you overheard them?”

Francine considered my question. “It must have been around four. I had lunch with my garden club, which ran until one. Then I ran a few errands, picked up the linens, and headed to the church.”

It sounded like the argument Francine overheard must have taken place shortly before Theresa was murdered if we were still assuming she was killed between three and five in the afternoon. At the very least if Francine had seen Theresa at four that narrowed down the window. I couldn’t imagine Cliff hurting a fly, but Francine was correct in her assumption that I would want to speak to him.

I chatted with Francine for a few more minutes and then Max and I continued down the beach to my cabin. I fed him and the cats, took a quick shower, and made breakfast. I decided to call Tara while I ate. She wanted me to be at the bookstore on time because we anticipated a busy day, but I also knew she, like me, wanted this murder wrapped up as soon as possible. Once I explained the situation she agreed I should stop by the church on my way into work. Cliff worked every Saturday morning getting the church ready for the weekend services, so there was a very good chance I’d find him there.

Luckily, my assumption was correct and Cliff was happily mowing the lawn.

“Why, if it isn’t Caitlin Hart. What a nice surprise on this beautiful spring morning. Something I can do for you?”

“Actually, I wanted to speak to you about something. Can you take a break for a few minutes?”

“Just let me finish this row and then we can sit on the bench near the pond and chat.”

I headed over to the pond to wait for him.

Father Kilian loved to garden and he seemed to have a green thumb; the church grounds were absolutely breathtaking. I can remember hanging out at this pond when I was a kid, feeding the koi and trying to catch one of the many frogs that lived among the foliage around the crystal blue water. I sat down on one of the wooden benches that lined the water’s edge and waited for Cliff to join me.

The fact that he and Theresa had been arguing seemed to give credence to the fact that whatever had happened centered at the church. Cliff was about as mild-mannered a person as you were likely to meet, so if he was yelling at the top of his lungs, as Francine had described the tone of the conversation when we spoke, it was likely he knew that Theresa had been bugging the confessional.

“Flowers are coming in right nice, don’t you think?” Cliff said as he sat down next to me.

“They really are. It seems spring has been a long time in coming this year.”

“Seems that way most years.”

It was true. Winter did seem to hang on longer than most people liked.

I jumped right on. “I wanted to ask you about a conversation you had last Wednesday afternoon with Theresa Lively.”

“Figured. Guess it can’t hurt to tell what I know.”

I waited while Cliff gathered his thoughts.

“I discovered on Wednesday that Theresa was responsible for what can only be described as a complete and total invasion of one of our most closely held sacraments.”

“You found out she was bugging the confessional?”

Cliff looked surprised that I knew it, but he confirmed that indeed that was what he had discovered. He’d threatened to go to Father Kilian to tell him about it, which was when the argument began.

“Did you go to Father Kilian?” I asked.

“No. He’d already left and I knew he wasn’t expected back until Sunday. It didn’t seem right to tell anyone other than him, so I decided to keep what I knew to myself until he returned.”

“Theresa was killed on church grounds not long after you spoke to her. Did you notice anyone else in the area?”

“No, not a soul. The women from the guild were there prior to my confronting Theresa, but I knew she was planning to stay after to practice her music, so I waited to speak to her until everyone else had gone.”

“And what time was that?”

“I guess around four.”

“Do you know if anyone else knew what Theresa was doing?”

“To the best of my knowledge, at least one other person knew.”

“Really? Who?”

“I don’t know. I got a note earlier in the afternoon on Wednesday, telling me that Theresa had planted a bug in the confessional and I should look for it, so I did.”

“And what time did you find the note?”

Cliff paused. He appeared to be considering my question. “It must have been around two-thirty. I know the other women from the guild had already arrived by the time I discovered it sitting on my desk and they began showing up at two.”

“Do you know who left you the note?”

“No. It wasn’t signed.”

“Do you still have it?”

“It’s in my truck.”

I looked toward the parking lot where Cliff’s old Ford was parked. “Can I see it?”

He agreed and we walked across the freshly cut lawn to the parked vehicle. He opened the glove box and pulled out a generic piece of white paper. with the message printed in black ink that appeared as though it could have come from pretty much any printer. I doubted it could help us, but I asked if I could give the note to Finn and he nodded.

When I left Cliff I headed back to the sanctuary to pick up the cats I planned to feature that day in the lounge and then we all headed to the bookstore. I hadn’t asked Cliff for an alibi for the time of Theresa’s death; I really didn’t believe he had killed Theresa in spite of the extreme level of his anger. I supposed if Finn wanted to follow up with Cliff he would do so.

As I arrived at Coffee Cat Books I saw Siobhan was talking to Tara.

“So?” my sister asked.

I filled her in on my conversation with Cliff.

“Tom didn’t do it either,” Siobhan informed me. “He said he was at the bowling alley on Wednesday, practicing for the tournament his team is playing in this weekend. I asked the desk clerk if he remembered seeing Tom and he said he was there for a good part of the afternoon.”

“The guy is an attorney. It seems like he’s so busy bowling and catting around, I have to wonder if he has any time for his job. Maybe the rumors about his being considered for a partnership aren’t true,” I suggested.

“Oh, they were true,” Siobhan verified, “with
were
being the operative word. It seems Lorna Bidwell confided in a friend about the affair she was having with Tom, who turned around and told her husband. Tom was fired a week before Theresa was killed. It seems the law firm agreed to pay him through June as long as he quietly looked for other employment off the island. They didn’t want a scandal. Tom told me he has a couple of feelers out and is confident one of them will pay off. In the meantime, he’s enjoying the first real time off he’s had in years. He also said he told Theresa the payments he’d been sending her way had come to an end at the same time, a week before she was killed.”

“So if Tom didn’t do it and Carissa didn’t do it, and we believe Felicity when she told me that she didn’t do it, that pretty much leaves us with MH and VW,” I summarized.

“Are we sure Cliff didn’t follow Theresa out into the parking lot and kill her?” Tara asked. “I hate to think he would do such a thing, but he considers St. Patrick’s to be his home and the parishioners to be his family, so I guess I could see him wanting to protect the church.”

“I can’t be a hundred percent sure he didn’t do it,” I said, “but my gut tells me it’s not him. I’ll call Finn to fill him in. I have the note to give him as well. He might want to follow up and get an alibi.”

I went into the office to call Finn, who agreed to pick up the note and follow up with Cliff. When I returned to the main room of the bookstore, Miranda was there with her grandmother. I’d spoken to the woman about the idea of getting a cat for Miranda and she’d agreed that if it would help her to deal with her loss, she was all for it.

“I’m glad you could make it,” I greeted them. “I brought four gentle and loving cats for you to meet today.”

Miranda didn’t say anything, but she did glance toward the cat lounge.

“Would you like to meet them?”

Miranda looked hesitant, but she took my hand when I offered it and followed me through the door that separated the bookstore and coffee bar and the lounge. She stood there hesitantly but didn’t approach any of the cats. I noticed her scanning the room with a look of disappointment on her face.”

“Do you see one that you like?” I asked.

Miranda didn’t answer.

“You can pet them if you want to. The cats I brought today are all very friendly.”

Miranda didn’t move. She glanced at her grandmother and then headed back toward the bookstore.

“I’m sorry to have wasted your time. She really seemed to light up when Sydney jumped into her lap at choir.”

“And Sydney isn’t here?”

“No. He’s not currently eligible for adoption. He was Theresa Lively’s cat, so I guess he now belongs to her next of kin, which I assume is her daughter.”

“I wasn’t aware Theresa had a daughter.”

“Her name is Kim. She didn’t really get along with her mother. She moved to Chicago twenty years ago, and as far as I know the two never spoke again. Still, as far as I know, Kim is the only family Theresa had, so I assume she’ll inherit her estate. I should ask Finn if he knows the specifics.”