Murder Is Uncooperative (22 page)

I winced a little. I wasn't worried about Dave being in a new relationship, but I sure didn't like the idea of my little boy being part of a new family. I was secretly pleased to hear he didn't want anyone thinking Cara was his mommy.

“Poor Mariana,” I said. I knew from my own teenage years that being the mother of a teenage girl wasn't always easy. “Raising a teenage stepdaughter alone must have been hard.”

“I don't think they were a happy family even before Amy's dad died,” Cara said. “And there were all those problems with Eddie. I don't think Amy kept in touch with Mariana after she left. But I bet she had good reasons for running away, even before what happened to Jessie.”

“You don't think she had anything to do with that?” I asked. “I know you said you thought Eddie had killed Jessie. But there have been several cases lately of teenage girls committing murders. Jealousy's sometimes a motive. Or it can be bullying gone way too far. Did anyone think Amy was guilty? I mean, she did run away.”

“She could have been a witness, if Eddie was guilty. Or she could have been afraid it would happen to her. Look,” Cara said. “I told you what I thought. Maybe the police know more. They didn't arrest Amy, or Eddie for that matter. Or you could talk to Mariana.”

“It's not exactly the kind of thing you ask your neighbor . . . oh, by the way, do you think your son or daughter committed a murder?”

“Well, you don't seem to mind bugging me about it,” Cara said in exasperation. “And I don't know anything.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you. I just wondered if it had something to do with what happened to Les and Ruth. I don't want to think we might all be in danger, especially if Eddie is guilty and he's moving back here.”

“I told you, Eddie will move back here over my dead body.”

“Maybe a poor choice of words, under the circumstances,” I said.

“Maybe, but I'll make sure he won't come back. Somehow.”

“Look, Cara, two people are already dead. I don't know if it's related to what happened to Jessica, but I think both Les and
Ruth were looking into your family's old complaint against Eddie before they died. If you know anything, you should tell the police.”

“I don't know anything more than what I told you. But I will tell that Sergeant D'Onofrio, if you think it might help. But, if you want more information, why don't you just talk to Amy.”

I looked at her in surprise. “You know how to get in touch with Amy?”

“Not personally. But I think the friend I mentioned, the one who told us she had just run away, is in touch with her. I could ask her if Amy would talk to you.”

“Do you think Amy would be willing?”

“Who knows? I don't want to talk to you and I am, aren't I? You can be damn persistent. I'll ask anyway. I'll let you know. Now leave me alone, won't you?”

I guess I had worn out my welcome, even if Cara hadn't exactly welcomed me in the first place. I hoped she would really try to get in touch with Amy. I wasn't sure what Amy would be able to tell me, but I wanted to talk to her.

Dad and Ben were both napping when I got back from Cara's. I sat down at my desk and started to make some notes about what Cara had told me. I loved Ben and Dad, but it was nice to have some quiet to get down to work.

It was too quiet, I realized suddenly. Maui usually napped when Ben did, but the kitten woke up easily and he usually came to greet me when I came home. I was just going to check Ben's room when I heard him getting up.

“Mommy, where's Maui?” Ben asked. He was dragging his plush cat as he came into my room. “I woke up, and he wasn't in my bed.”

Good question. Where was the kitten?

“Maybe he's hiding,” Ben said, as he ran into his room, looking around and calling his kitten's name. “Maybe he wants to play hide and seek.” He crouched down beside the bed and looked under it, remembering when the kitten had been hiding on Thanksgiving.

“Not here,” he said and ran down the hall to the living room, calling out for the kitten.

Dad heard Ben shouting and got up too. “What's up?”

“I can't find Maui,” Ben explained. His lip was trembling.

The apartment wasn't that big. The kitten must be somewhere.

I called him.

But no little cat came prancing out to greet me.

I checked the laundry hamper. Maui liked to curl up on top of the clothes in there. He had learned to push the lid of the wicker hamper askew, opening it just enough that he could crawl in and sleep on the laundry inside. The first time he'd done it, I hadn't realized the cat was inside and I'd automatically pushed the lid closed, only to be summoned later by the indignant cries of the kitten, who had woken up to find himself trapped in the dim light of the closed hamper. He'd been clawing at the wicker and mewing in the imperious way that had given him his name.

The kitten wasn't in the laundry hamper. He wasn't on any of the cushions that ran along the back of the couch next to the window in the living room. He liked to perch there and watch the birds fluttering in the maple trees out front, the squirrels scampering along the telephone lines, and people walking past. But he wasn't there now.

The kitten wasn't in the kitchen either. I checked to see if he was eating the dry kitten food in his dish. I called him again, my voice a little tighter now, and shook the bag of kitten food, hoping he'd come running the way he usually did. But he didn't.

I checked under each of our beds, I looked on and under chairs. I looked in the closets—the front hall, each of the bedroom closets—thinking he might have found a hiding place.

I kept calling his name, hoping the kitten would answer. I finally went back to the kitchen and opened one of the pop-top cans of kitten food. The sound of a can opening was almost guaranteed to bring a kitten running.

But no kitten came.

I was getting horribly afraid that our little gray-striped kitty had somehow managed to get outside the apartment. But surely he couldn't have gotten further than the hallway. And wouldn't I have seen him when I came in?

I looked out in the hallway. There wasn't anything there that he could hide behind. I called him just in case, but there was no answer. Could he have found his way into one of the other apartments?

Ben was crying in earnest now. He wanted to come with me to look for the kitten, but I persuaded him to stay with Dad. “You keep looking around in here,” I told him. “That's probably where he is. There are lots more hiding places to look. Have you tried under my bed? You can look for him and call my phone when you find him, okay?” Ben ran into my room to look for the kitten and I went out into the hallway.

I knocked anxiously on Mariana's door.

“Your kitten is missing?” she said when she answered the door. “Oh, dear. No I'm sure he couldn't have come in here but just let me check.”

I followed her into the apartment, calling Maui's name. Mariana checked a few obvious places a kitten might be hiding.

“I can't imagine how he could have made it in here,” she said. “I don't think I had the door open all day. Could he have climbed out on the balcony? If a window was open?”

I rushed out to Mariana's balcony, looking across at our own. There was no kitten on our balcony. I glanced down five stories to the ground below. Could he somehow have managed to get out there? Could he have fallen?

Even if he hadn't fallen and hurt himself, Maui wasn't a cat used to being outside. He was not quite three months old— still a baby—and we'd kept him protected in our home.

I thanked Mariana and headed to the other side, to Naomi's apartment.

She frowned when she saw me at her door. But I thought I saw a flicker of sympathy when I explained I was looking for our kitten.

“No, I haven't seen him,” she said. “I don't think he could have come in here.”

I explained what Mariana had said about the balcony. “Yes, I guess it's quite possible for a cat to jump from one balcony to another. You can check my balcony if you want. Come in.”

I was pleased with this sign of rapprochement from my neighbor. I checked her balcony and called Maui's name for good measure. But he wasn't there.

“Thank you so much,” I said. “Please let me know if you hear anything.”

“I don't think I'd miss him if he meowed,” she said. “I can hear him through the walls sometimes. He's quite loud, isn't he?”

“I'm sorry if the noise has bothered you,” I told her. “We try to be quiet, but it's not always easy with a little kid and a cat.”

She shrugged. “It's an old building. The walls aren't as soundproof as we'd like. I do hope you find your kitten.”

I knocked at the other apartments on our floor but didn't find anyone home. It was beginning to look as if our kitten had somehow made it into the elevator and off our floor.

I took the elevator to the ground floor and peered out the front door. The first thing I saw was the rusty motor home in front of the co-op, and Aaron and his partner working on it.

Aaron had been belligerent every time I saw him. I wasn't sure I wanted to face him. But I needed to find the kitten.

There was a lot of shrubbery in front of the co-op, with lots of spaces for a kitten to hide.

I poked around the bushes in the front, calling Maui's name. His gray stripes would make him hard to see in the shadows.

“You want to go to Maui, I don't think hollering about it is the way to get there,” Aaron said snidely. I almost ignored him but I needed to find Maui.

“Our kitten's missing. Have you seen him? A little gray tiger cat, about three months old?”

Aaron just scowled at me, but his partner, Kevin, stopped what he was doing. He had been perched on the bumper of the motor home, reaching up to rake the fallen leaves off the roof.

“We haven't seen a thing, but we've only been out here for about half an hour.”

“Getting this thing ready to move,” Aaron growled. “Don't know where we're going to put it. My son wants to use it on some property he's buying in the Gulf Islands, but he hasn't closed the deal yet. Still, I can't have it in the co-op. People who just moved in don't like it.”

Kevin looked at him in exasperation. “Aaron, her cat's missing. Think about that and get over the motor home. You may not like her, but you like cats.” Turning to me, he said. “We'll let you know if we see him.”

I decided to go back inside to check the apartment one more time and to pick up a bag of his dry kitten food. The crinkling sound the bag made was usually very enticing to our kitten.

But, as I picked up the bag in our kitchen and gave the bag a shake, there was still no answer.

Ben was still looking in every possible hiding place in the apartment, but Dad looked worried. “I was having a bit of a nap,” he said. “But I don't see how he could have got out. I've been looking for him everywhere I can think of, but I don't think he's here.”

“Dad, I'm sure I'll find him. I don't see how he could get out either.”

I headed out the front door again, calling Maui's name. I looked around the front yard of the co-op without success and went around the back. Kids were still playing in the playground, but none I recognized.

I looked up at our balcony high above us. I shuddered. I didn't think Maui could have made it out on our balcony, but I was sure he'd be hurt if he had fallen.

But there was no sign of Maui in the co-op's back yard.

I headed for the underground parking garage. The area was brightly lit with bluish fluorescent lights, and I could see it was deserted.

“Maui,” I called, peering under cars and shaking my bag of cat food. The bicycle storage area, screened off by chain link panels, looked promising. I shone the small pocket flashlight attached to my key ring to search in there.

But after a few minutes it became clear he wasn't in the parking garage. I'd checked all the places a kitten could hide.

I hadn't spent much time checking out the condos around the corner from the co-op, but I supposed the kitten could have gone there.

The street in front of the co-op was lined with mature maple trees, but this street was planted with young cherry trees. The City of Vancouver had planted flowering trees along most of the city streets. Starting as early as January some years, the city's trees covered themselves in froths of pink and white blossoms as the plum, cherry and dogwood trees bloomed in succession throughout the spring. When they were done, the petals littered the ground under the trees in layers inches deep, covering the cars parked underneath them with pink confetti.

Right now the trees were covered in handsome claret-colored leaves, only a few scattered on the grass underneath them.

As I bent down to peer under the cars parked along the street, I heard Kevin calling my name. I dashed back around the corner.

“Rebecca, we found your cat,” Kevin said. “But, honey, I'm afraid he's hurt.”

“I think his leg is broken,” Kevin continued.

My eyes went immediately to Maui. Aaron was crouched on the curb, holding him.

“We just heard him meowing,” Kevin was saying. “He was lying there under a car. I guess he must have heard you calling him, after all.

“Aaron got a sheet of cardboard from the motor home and managed to slide it under him so he could move him without hurting him more. Then he got a towel to keep him warm.”

Aaron was gently stroking the kitten's tiny striped head but his angry expression was clear.

“He was probably hit by a car,” he said, his voice outraged. “They must have known they hit him, but they just left him there. How could someone do that to a kitten? He was just lying there, poor little guy.”

The kitten recognized my voice and looked up at me, eyes unfocused with pain.

“I'd better get him to the vet's as quickly as possible,” I said. “Just let me get his carrier. Thanks so much for taking care of him.”

Ben ran to the door when I got back to the apartment. “I couldn't find Maui, Mommy? Did you find him?”