Six Cats A Slayin'

As much as I detested Deirdre Thompson, now that I knew so much more about her, I wasn’t sure she really was the murderer. I simply thought she was the nastiest of the bunch and the most likely to kill to protect her family name and her money. People had murdered in the past for each of those reasons on its own. Combined, they became even more powerful. Billy and Betty were probably motivated by the desire to protect the family name. Billy was a politician, and he might have ambitions for a higher office than that of city councilman. Betty might want to protect her brother as well as herself. Chip Camden was high-powered, and they moved in pretty important circles in town and in the state. He also nursed political ambitions, and a scandal like the truth behind Gerry Albritton’s identity might harm his chances irreparably.

I realized I had been standing in front of the cage, blind to the kittens who were now awake and wanting to be let out. Diesel had been meowing at me, too.

“Sorry, kids,” I said. “Time to play.” And time to push all thoughts of murder out of my brain for a while. I settled down to enjoy the kittens and think about them instead.

THIRTY-FIVE

To my great joy and relief, Sean informed me before lunchtime the next day, Christmas Eve, that Alex felt strong enough to spend time with the family that evening. I happily scrapped my rather chaotic plans to try to take Christmas Eve to her and instead concentrated on everything I needed to get done around the house.

Despite my inability to carry a tune in a bucket, as the old saying went, I scurried around the house that day singing snatches of my favorite Christmas songs, chief among them “Silent Night” and “Joy to the World.” Not for the first time did I wish that the joyful noise I was making could be in tune as well. Both my children had pleasant singing voices, especially Laura, who had done musicals in high school and college. It had to have come from their mother’s side of the family, because I didn’t remember that either of my parents could sing any better than I could.

Stewart helped bring the decorations down from the attic, and he had arranged for a friend with a pickup to deliver the tree he had picked out at a local Christmas tree farm. The tree was scheduled to arrive no later than three this afternoon. That would give us time to get it set up before family started arriving around four thirty. We would start decorating the tree together then.

The doorbell rang a little after two, and I went to answer it, expecting to see Sean’s friend with the tree. It took me a moment to recognize the man on the doorstep. Dr. Henry McGillivray, noted cardiologist, and stepfather to Tommy Russum, appeared to be in an irritable state of mind.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Harris,” he said. “If you have a few minutes, I’d like to talk to you about my son.”

“Certainly, I’ll be happy to talk to you about Tommy.” I stood aside and motioned him in. I noted with interest, and approval, that he referred to Tommy as his son, not as a stepson.

A tall, powerfully built man who exuded an air of authority, Henry McGillivray was around forty. He seemed uneasy, however, and that surprised me. All the times I had seen him in church, he never appeared in the least unsure of himself. He had impressed me as a man who was always in control and was a stickler for detail.

After taking his overcoat and putting it on the rack in the hall, I led him to the kitchen. I didn’t want to confront him with Tommy’s kittens right away.

“Please have a seat,” I said. “Can I offer you something to drink? Sweet tea, a soft drink? The mulled cider isn’t quite ready yet.”

“No, thank you,” McGillivray said. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m glad you came by,” I told him as I took my place at the table. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about Tommy and his kittens.”

In a brusque tone he said, “I’m happy to reimburse you for any expense you’ve incurred because of them.” He reached inside his jacket.

“There’s no need,” I said. “Tommy actually gave me money to help pay the expenses.” I watched him closely. He was obviously surprised at this information. His hand faltered, and then he pulled it back.

“Really?” he asked. “Where did he get the money?”

“He said it was from his allowance. It seemed important to him that he helps pay for them.”

McGillivray frowned. “That’s good, and it shows he does have a responsible side after all. But his allowance isn’t large. It can’t be enough.”

“It’s enough for me,” I said, trying to keep my tone level. “I’d say Tommy is quite a responsible boy. I have no reason to doubt what he told me. He found a starving cat, took care of her and fed her, and then he found himself with five kittens. He was doing what he could to look after them, despite apparent parental opposition. When he felt he could no longer keep them safe and warm, desperation drove him to me. I guess everyone in the neighborhood knows about me and my cat.”