Murder in Cherry Hills (A Cozy Cat Caper Mystery Book 1) (4 page)

“I’m not sure, but I can ask the vet that Mrs. Tinsdale used to provide a copy of Matty’s records,” Kat offered.

“Do that. I’d also advise you to consider a monthly parasite treatment for Matilda.”

Kat’s heart skipped a beat. “Parasite treatment? Matty has parasites?” She was surprised at how alarmed she felt. She’d only had Matty for twenty-four hours and already she was wholly in love with the cat.

“This would be an all-inclusive preventive treatment to reduce the risk of her contracting conditions such as heartworm, fleas, ear mites, and roundworm,” Dr. Harry clarified. “Although there’s no cause for concern right now, a single mosquito bite could change all that.”

Kat tried to tamp down her panic as her gaze moved to Matty hunkered down on the examination table.

“There’s no need to worry,” Dr. Harry said, as if sensing her budding hysteria. “And the monthly treatment is easy enough to apply. You don’t even have to bring Matilda into the office. Here.” He rummaged in one of the drawers built into the counter and emerged holding up a cylindrical package. “You just squeeze this onto the skin at the back of her neck, where she can’t lick it, and she’s good to go for a month.”

“That’s it?” Kat asked, accepting the medicine with trembling fingers.

“That’s it,” Dr. Harry said cheerfully. “Normally I would apply it before you leave, but since Matilda is so agitated at the moment she might fare better if you treated her from the comfort of a familiar environment.”

Kat bobbed her head. “Yes, definitely. I’ll do that straightaway when we get home.”

“Stop by the front desk on your way out and talk to Sherry,” Dr. Harry said, reaching for the doorknob. “She’ll let you know what you owe for today’s visit.”

“Okay. Thank you so much, Doctor.”

Kat plucked the carrier off the floor, her mind whirling and her chest gripped by fear. Before today she’d barely known Matty. Now, the thought of losing her to parasites seemed like the worst thing in the world.

When Andrew stopped by Jessie’s Diner later that afternoon for lunch, Kat asked the other waitress on duty to cover for her so she could talk to him. She couldn’t wait to tell him about her morning visit to Cherry Hills Veterinary.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Kat said, sliding into the booth seat opposite him. She set down the strawberry milkshake she’d just finished making and pushed it across the table. “This is for you.”

Andrew’s face lit up. “What’s the occasion?”

Kat shrugged, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. “I guess I just assumed you’d want it, since we always ordered them as kids.”

He grinned. “Oh, I definitely want it.”

Kat found herself mesmerized by Andrew’s long, masculine fingers as he gripped the milkshake glass. She forced her gaze back up to his face, hopefully before he noticed her staring. “So, um, I have some interesting news for you. Guess who in town has a huge black eye that appeared overnight.”

“Who?”

“Harry Opheim.”

“You mean Dr. Harry, the veterinarian?”

Kat nodded. “He said he sustained the injury during a wrestling match with a dog, but I’m not sure I buy it.”

“What were you doing talking to Dr. Harry?”

“I took Matty in for a checkup this morning,” Kat explained. “And, get this, she went all crazy when Dr. Harry touched her.”

“She probably doesn’t enjoy going to the vet,” Andrew reasoned.

“She certainly didn’t want to get into her carrier,” Kat admitted, remembering Matty’s scowl as she hid under the bed. “But still, the way she lashed out I’m pretty sure this was more than just an aversion to doctors. I’m wondering if Matty witnessed Dr. Harry attacking Mrs. Tinsdale yesterday morning.”

Andrew shook his head. “That’s impossible. Dr. Harry has an alibi for yesterday.”

Kat’s forehead furrowed. “He does?”

“Yes. His number was the last to appear in Mrs. Tinsdale’s call history, so I checked out his story right away.”

“What did he say?” Kat asked.

“That he never left the office until closing time,” Andrew replied. “I also spoke with Sherry Peterson, his morning receptionist, and she confirms he was there from the time they opened at eight
a.m.
until she left at one
p.m.
Mrs. Tinsdale was killed sometime between nine and eleven.”

“Maybe Dr. Harry snuck out for an early lunch,” Kat proposed.

“He never broke for lunch,” Andrew countered. “They were so swamped he just wolfed down a granola bar or two whenever he found a spare moment. And the clients who were there before noon all claimed that Dr. Harry was present for their appointments and that they never saw him leaving the building.”

Kat frowned, not ready to give up the notion of Dr. Harry’s guilt yet. “If he was only gone for a few minutes, they might not have noticed that he left.”

“It would have taken him at least half an hour to get to your apartment building, involve himself in an altercation with Mrs. Tinsdale, and return to the office,” Andrew said. “And as busy as his practice was on Tuesday, somebody would almost have to have seen him leaving the premises.”

Kat absorbed that, her spirits deflating. Since she’d left the doctor’s office several hours ago, she’d convinced herself of Dr. Harry’s guilt. Now she was back to square one when it came to gathering leads on who could have killed Mrs. Tinsdale.

“What did he say about Matty, anyway?” Andrew asked. “Is she okay?”

“Oh, she’s fine,” Kat said, tamping down the fear that washed over her whenever she was reminded of Dr. Harry’s parasite comments. “If you want to know the truth, I really only took her to the vet so I could hear what Dr. Harry had to say about Mrs. Tinsdale’s relationships with his staff. I figured she had to deal with some of them because of her position on the 4F board.” Unfortunately, after Kat had gotten it into her head that Dr. Harry himself could be guilty, she had abandoned any line of questioning concerning the other Cherry Hills Veterinary employees.

Andrew’s eyes narrowed. “Kat, you’re not sticking your nose into this case, are you?”

She drew herself up. “What if I was?”

“Then I’d have to remind you that a homicide investigation is police business.”

“I know that. And the last thing I want to do is interfere.”

Andrew pulled his milkshake closer. “Good.”

“But I have been . . . looking into things a little,” Kat continued.

Andrew stared at Kat across the table, the sip of strawberry shake he had sucked up his straw falling back into the glass as his lips parted. “You’ve been looking into things?”

She nodded.

Andrew set his palms flat on the table. “Kat, you do realize that involving yourself in this case could be dangerous, right?”

She shifted in her seat. “I feel obligated to do something.”

He regarded her for a long moment. “It’s because you found her, isn’t it?”

“In part, but also because Matilda lives with me now. I owe it to her.”

Andrew blinked. “You owe it to a cat to investigate a murder?”

“Not just any murder, Mrs. Tinsdale’s.” Kat paused, trying to figure out how best to put into words exactly how she felt. “It’s like Matilda lost her mother yesterday. Now that I’ve adopted her, I feel it’s my responsibility to bring her justice.”

Andrew’s face softened. Kat knew what he was thinking. He figured she was equating Matty’s loss of her mother with Kat’s nonexistent relationship with her own mother. And, deep down, she knew he was right. She had always felt partially adrift in her own life, and she often wondered if growing up with a mother would have prevented that.

Andrew cleared his throat. “Kat, I should tell you that until we know who did this, we have to view everybody as a suspect.”

Kat raised her eyebrows. “Everybody?”

His gaze didn’t leave hers. “Yes.”

She folded her arms across her chest, challenging him with her eyes. “So, you’re treating me like a suspect?”

“Technically, yes,” he replied evenly. “Since you’re known to have been inside Mrs. Tinsdale’s apartment around the time of her death, we have to consider the possibility that you’re responsible.”

A burning sensation spread throughout Kat’s chest. “But I found her! And I called you guys as soon as I did. What was I supposed to do, just leave her there?”

Andrew shrugged. “I’m just telling you what our procedure is.”

“Andrew,” she said, dropping her elbows on the table and bending toward him. “We grew up together. You know I wouldn’t have killed Mrs. Tinsdale. Besides, what would be my motive?”

“Kat, I’m obligated to follow procedure, whether or not I know you.”

She gawked at him. Although she knew he was only doing his job, she couldn’t help but feel stung by his words. Worse, from the way he talked, he sounded as though he had no problems treating her as he would a potential murderer.

Andrew slid his milkshake aside and hunched over the table. “Kat, I hope you understand that our consideration of you as a suspect is just standard procedure. You’re not even a suspect really, just a person of interest.”

Kat didn’t see the difference, but she didn’t care to belabor the point either. “I understand,” she said instead. “But that makes it all the more important that I help find the real killer, don’t you agree?”

Andrew sighed. “Well, I can’t tell you what to do on your own time.”

Kat let out a breath. “Great, than—”

“But I also can’t condone you interfering with an active police investigation,” Andrew continued, his face stern.

Kat’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m not trying to interfere. I’m trying to help.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Andrew mumbled just before Kat slipped out of the booth to return to work.

Noise from the other side of her bedroom wall awoke Kat late that night. She sat up and listened quietly, unsure whether she had actually heard something or merely dreamed it. But the faint sounds indicative of someone moving around next door didn’t fade as the seconds ticked by. Not only that, but her bedroom shared a wall with the master bedroom of Mrs. Tinsdale’s apartment. Whoever was next door was currently bumbling around where a woman had recently been murdered.

Blood rushed through Kat’s ears as her adrenal glands revved up. Deciding she wouldn’t get any sleep until she saw for herself exactly what was going on next door, Kat eased out of bed, pulled on her bathrobe, and crept into the living room. Flicking on a light, she glanced around for a makeshift weapon. She wasn’t about to wander into what had been an active crime scene not forty-eight hours ago without something she could use to defend herself.

And staying in her own apartment wasn’t an option. She was too curious to find out who was in Mrs. Tinsdale’s unit and what they were doing there. Plus, she had to admit, that old childhood stubborn streak that flared whenever she disagreed with Andrew blazed stronger than ever after he’d tried to get her to stop looking into things. She hated for anyone to tell her what to do, even if she knew they were only concerned about her safety.

Kat paced around the living room as she searched for potential weapons. Her steps halted when she saw Matty watching her from the sofa.

“What?” she said, her defenses rising. “You want me to sit here and not do anything?”

Matty turned her head as though to dismiss Kat and her nosy ways.

There I go again
, Kat thought,
trying to reason with a cat
.

Refocusing on her mission, Kat ignored Matty and looked around the room once more. She finally settled on the universal remote that could control every electronic device in her apartment if only she could figure out how to program the thing correctly. The remote wouldn’t do her much good against an armed intruder, but it was better than nothing, and carrying a butcher knife around seemed too extreme.

Kat briefly considered calling Andrew before she left, but it was three o’clock in the morning and she would hate to disturb him this late unless she really needed help. Besides, she knew he would tell her to stay put until he arrived, and whoever was next door might be halfway to Wenatchee before Andrew even finished getting dressed.

Her heart pounding, Kat pried the front door open and stuck her head into the corridor. She could tell Mrs. Tinsdale’s door wasn’t shut completely from the way the light inside spilled into the dimmer common hallway. The open door led her to believe that the person currently trespassing wasn’t worried about anyone catching them. That eased some of her fears.

Clutching the remote, Kat crept toward Mrs. Tinsdale’s unit. She paused just outside the door when she spied a middle-aged brunette woman sitting on the couch as she shuffled through a stack of papers on the coffee table. Dressed simply in jeans and a T-shirt and with no obvious weapons in sight, the woman looked harmless enough.

Kat hesitated only briefly before knocking on the door, keeping her knees bent as she did so. In case she was wrong about her assessment of the intruder, she wanted to be prepared to sprint back to her own apartment.

The woman’s head snapped up, her eyes wide as they locked on to Kat’s. “Who are you?”

Kat braced her feet and pushed the door open wider. “I could ask you the same thing.”

The woman stood up and planted her hands on her hips. “How did you get in here? This is supposed to be a secure building.”

“I live here,” Kat replied. “How did
you
get in here?”

“I have a key.”

Kat raised her eyebrows. “You do?”

The woman eyed Kat up and down, a slight frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. Kat didn’t know whether her questions or her disheveled appearance had prompted the woman’s disapproving look.

The woman wrenched her eyes back up to meet Kat’s. “I’m Betty Hamilton,” she said.

Some of the fight left Kat’s system. “You’re Mrs. Tinsdale’s daughter.”

She had a flashback of Mrs. Tinsdale mentioning Betty during one of their hallway conversations. Mrs. Tinsdale had been upset after learning that her son-in-law had recently announced his plans to leave Betty for another woman after twenty years of marriage. Kat had forgotten the daughter’s name until now.

Kat stepped into the apartment and held out her hand, but quickly dropped it back to her side when she realized she was still holding the remote control. She stuffed the remote in her bathrobe pocket. “I’m Kat Harper. I live next door.”

“Oh, nice to meet you,” Betty said, although her flat tone suggested she would have preferred if Kat had stayed home and minded her own business.

Kat looked at the papers on the coffee table. “What are you looking for?”

“Mom’s life insurance paperwork.”

Kat rocked backward. It seemed rather callous for Mrs. Tinsdale’s daughter to already be searching for a financial windfall when her mother had turned up murdered not two days ago.

Betty seemed to understand how her words had come across. She bit her lip as a flush crept up her neck. “I know that sounds harsh, but I really do need the money, and me getting it sooner rather than later isn’t going to bring Mom back.”

Kat eyed the papers spread across the table. “Are those all her personal documents?”

“There’s more in the bedroom closet,” Betty said. “I only grabbed these to start. I brought them out here because I couldn’t stand the idea of being so close to where she . . . where she . . .”

Tears sprang to Betty’s eyes as she choked on her words. Under normal circumstances, such a raw display of emotion would have softened Kat’s heart. However, after learning of Betty’s motive for rummaging through her dead mother’s files in the middle of the night, she had her suspicions that Betty Hamilton might only be acting grief-stricken so Kat wouldn’t suspect her of something more sinister than just greed.

“It still doesn’t feel real to me,” Betty said, her voice hollow. “Mom’s passing, that is.” She looked at Kat for a long moment before turning away and grabbing a handful of papers off the coffee table.

Kat watched her, torn between volunteering to help and retreating back to her own apartment. She had to wonder if the promise of collecting Mrs. Tinsdale’s life insurance money might have driven Betty to kill her own mother.

Betty derailed Kat’s train of thought when she let go of the pages she’d picked up and covered her face with her hands.

“Ugh, this is all too much!” she wailed. She jerked her arms toward the documents. “Look at this mess! How am I supposed to find anything important here?”

Kat moved closer and lifted up one of the papers. It was an invoice from Cherry Hills Veterinary. She scanned over the itemized charges, noting the discount at the bottom labeled ‘Furry Friends Foster Families.’ “These are for 4F.”

Betty peered up at her. “4F?”

“Furry Friends Foster Families,” Kat said. “Mrs. Tinsdale volunteered on the board there.”

“Oh, right. Mom talked about that little group, but I never really paid much attention.”

Kat couldn’t help but think that if Betty
had
paid more attention to her mother’s stories she might not be in her current situation of trying to figure out Mrs. Tinsdale’s filing system from scratch.

But Kat wasn’t here to berate a grieving daughter. “If you’d like, I can sort through these with you to separate out everything related to 4F. I kind of know the president, so I can turn all this stuff over to her.”

Betty’s face brightened. “You would do that?”

“Sure.” Kat still had her concerns about spending time alone with a potential murderer, but she rationalized that Betty had no motive to hurt
her
, even if she had killed her own mother. Besides, Betty
did
seem genuinely distraught, although Kat couldn’t discern whether that was because she was having so much trouble locating the insurance paperwork or because of her recent loss.

Their attention was diverted when Matty came streaking down Mrs. Tinsdale’s hallway, her paws scissoring in front of her as she raced toward the kitchen.

“Matty!” Kat yelped, her stomach leaping into her throat. She must have forgotten to close her apartment door when she’d left, and the cat must have followed her over here.

Once she recovered from the shock of the interruption, Kat took a closer look at the animal. Matty was playing with something shiny, batting it across the floor as though it were a mouse.

Kat walked over to her pet. Matty looked expectantly up at her, her tail swishing as if she expected Kat to join in on the game. Stooping forward, Kat spied the silver hoop earring half trapped underneath one of Matty’s paws.

Kat reached down and gently worked the earring from Matty’s grasp. Matty lifted her haunches, ready to launch her body in whatever direction Kat threw her new toy. Kat hated to disappoint her, but right now she didn’t have time to play.

Kat examined the earring, her heart beating faster as she absorbed the implications of its presence here. The metal back that hooked onto the sharp end of the pin was missing, leading her to believe that the earring hadn’t been deliberately removed from someone’s ear. It also didn’t look like the type of jewelry that Mrs. Tinsdale would wear. The older woman had always preferred simple, understated accessories.

Could Mrs. Tinsdale’s murderer have unknowingly left this on Tuesday? Kat wondered. When the police had searched the apartment, they could have easily overlooked something this small.

Kat tucked the earring in her bathrobe pocket and made a mental note to call Andrew as soon as the hour turned decent. Until then, she might as well help Betty Hamilton sort through Mrs. Tinsdale’s paperwork. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep no matter how hard she tried.

But first, she had a cat to return home.