Cat Trick

I watched him go because . . . well, it was fun watching his long legs move. Then I ate the last bites of my sandwich and finished my coffee. I wiped my fingers again and headed up to the counter.

Claire gave me a knowing Cheshire cat grin. “Detective Gordon already got it,” she said. She held out a small take-out bag. “This too.”

It was a still-warm chocolate-chip cookie. I felt my cheeks redden as I waited for her to say something else, but she just kept smiling at me. I took a step backward and almost fell over a chair.

“I’m just going to go then,” I said, gesturing in the general direction of the door. And I did, before I started acting any more like a goofy teenager.

18

Sunday was warm and sunny, and even Hercules was happy to spend most of the day outside while I worked in the yard. I sat on one of the big Adirondack chairs to eat lunch. Hercules took the other, eyeing the big maple for any signs of Professor Moriarty, while Owen roamed between our yard and Rebecca’s. By midafternoon I’d cleaned out the last of the flower beds and made a pile of brush and weeds for Harry to take away for composting.

Owen was sprawled over the railing of Rebecca’s gazebo, on his stomach, legs hanging down on either side, dozing in the sunshine. Hercules was poking at the compost pile with one paw. My back was stiff from bending over and I needed a break.

I stretched out in the swing, knees bent, one arm tucked under my head. “Hey, leave that alone,” I called to Hercules.

He made his way across the grass and came to stand in front of the swing, green eyes narrowed questioningly. I patted my midsection. “C’mon up,” I said.

He jumped onto my stomach, setting the swing swaying gently. I reached out to steady him with my free hand. He leaned his head back and looked all around.

“The bird’s not here,” I said. “He’s hanging out somewhere with his little bird friends. I think you can relax.”

He made a sound a lot like a sigh and lay down, stretching across my chest with his chin on my breastbone.

“And please stay out of that pile of branches and dead plants. Harry’s coming to get all that tomorrow to put in his compost pile.”

I stroked the cat’s black fur, warm from the afternoon sun. “I don’t have anything to tell him,” I said. “Mike Glazer didn’t die from anything natural—like a heart attack—but other than that, I don’t know what happened to him, or why it happened.”

I scratched the top of the cat’s head with one finger. “Got any ideas?” I asked.

He squinted at me. Either he was pondering my questions or the sun was in his eyes.

“Mike’s partners are out. They both have alibis. They were at that awards dinner in Minneapolis.” I sighed. “I keep thinking that it has to matter that he was killed here, in Mayville Heights.” I moved my arm a little under my head. “Okay,” I said. “There’s Liam.”

Hercules made a face.

“Yes, I know Maggie likes him, but Liam and Mike did have that argument outside Eric’s Place. Maybe whatever happened was an accident and Liam panicked.”

Hercules didn’t look convinced.

“Who else?” I said.

He seemed to think for a moment and then he licked his whiskers.

“Georgia?” I said. I shook my head. “I don’t think so.” She’d been awfully convincing in her explanation about losing the little spatula. Then again, whoever killed Mike had likely convinced him they weren’t a threat.

He flicked the tip of his tail and gave a snippy meow.

“Fine. Liam and Georgia are both on the list.”

Herc put his head back down again.

“What about Burtis?” I asked.

Hercules gave his head a vigorous shake. I wasn’t sure if that was a yes or a no.

“What reason could he have had for killing Mike?” The cat didn’t have an answer. “Does Burtis strike you as the kind of person who would panic and run if something had happened by accident?” I blew a strand of hair off my cheek. “Liam, Georgia and Burtis,” I said. “That’s what we have. Or some mysterious person from out of town who followed Mike here to kill him because . . . because . . .” I made a face. “I don’t have a ‘because.’”

I put my arm around Hercules and sat up. I set him on the swing beside me. He shook himself and looked inquiringly at me. “I guess we might as well start with Liam. What do we know about him?” I held up one finger. “He’s a bartender at Barry’s Hat.” I stuck a second finger in the air. “He’s working on a degree in psychology.” I held up a third finger. “He’s been the driving force behind this whole tour proposal idea.”

Herc cocked his head to one side.