Cat Trick

“I told you everything there was to tell,” I said. “Oren waved me over. I looked in the tent, but I didn’t go in. I called you.”

Lucy was coming from the cats’ sleeping area, and I studied her carefully, watching for any sign that she was injured or sick, but she looked fine. She glanced over at us, meowed—her way of saying “Good morning,” I guessed—and continued to the feeding station.

“You didn’t see anyone besides Oren?”

I shook my head. “No.” The other cats were coming out, and just like I had with Lucy, I studied each one in turn. They all seemed well.

“Do you think the knife’s important?” I asked.

He shifted behind me. “The problem is, there’s no way to know how long it was there.”

I twisted around to look at him. “Yes, there is. It wasn’t there when Owen found that button from Alex Scott’s jacket.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I do know that for sure,” I said. “That knife was stuck in the ground less than a foot away from where that button was. I was right there. I would have seen it.”

He pressed his lips together, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “There wasn’t that much light in the tent, Kathleen,” he said.

I glanced over at the cats and then came back to Marcus. “There was enough. I was right at that spot. My hand was on the ground. If the knife had been there I would have seen it. It. Wasn’t. There.”

He rubbed his chin. “I don’t want to argue with you,” he said quietly.

I looked up at him. “Then don’t.” I crossed one arm over my chest. “Marcus, I would have seen a knife jammed into the dirt if it had been there—I probably would have put my hand on it—and Owen would have been trying to dig it up, just the way he did with the button. Not to mention, wouldn’t one of your investigators have found it? Can’t you at least try to keep an open mind?”

He pushed off the wall and leaned sideways to check out the feeding station; then he turned his attention back to me. “I don’t have a problem keeping an open mind, but not so open that my brains run out my ears.” He shook his head. “You can’t swear with one hundred percent certainty that knife was not stuck in the ground when Owen was in the tent, not considering how dim the light was. Yes, we searched the tent and the grounds and I don’t think we missed anything, but we didn’t take that tent down—which we should have done—so I can’t be positive. And I’m sorry, but a cat is not exactly a credible corroborating witness. No lawyer is going to accept that.”

There was a sudden bitter taste in my mouth. I chose my words carefully before I answered him. “I’m not asking some lawyer to accept that I know what I saw. I’m asking you to accept it,” I said.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked up at the ceiling in frustration or something else, I wasn’t sure.

I turned around to see that the cats were finished eating and were already headed back to their shelters, Lucy trailing all the others. She stopped and looked at me, tipping her head to one side. Had she caught the tone of our conversation, if not the actual words? I knew the little calico cat had exceptional hearing. After a moment, she followed the rest of the cats, and I immediately headed for the feeding station. I scooped up a couple of bits of dropped cat food and collected the dishes. Marcus refilled the water bowls, silent beside me.

Once we were outside the carriage house, he touched my shoulder. “Kathleen, look, I do believe that you think there was no knife stuck in the ground when Owen found that button, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I based an investigation on something I know a good lawyer could tear apart. And it’s not like that knife is what killed Mike Glazer; you know that.”

“Yes, I do know that,” I said. “I think Mike suffocated in some way.” I held up my free hand. “And before you say you can’t tell me whether or not I’m right, I wasn’t asking.” I was holding on so tightly to the bag with the dishes and cat food, I could feel the strap cutting into my palm. “Marcus, I think someone jammed that knife down in the dirt on purpose, so it would be found, so it would direct attention away from the person who killed Mike and on to someone else.”

He didn’t say anything, and his mouth was pulled into a thin, tight line.