Six Cats A Slayin'

Joss appeared about twenty minutes later, and he and Stewart wrestled the tree, a beautiful six-foot Leyland cypress, into place. Stewart had located a Christmas tree farm not too far from Athena that grew these beautiful trees. I thought his choice was excellent. Joss, a lanky, taciturn man around fifty, refused payment for his services, averring that he owed Stewart a favor or two and was glad he could help.

I felt full of goodwill and Christmas cheer when I climbed the stairs a little later. All I needed now was a shower, clean clothes, and my family around me, ready to decorate the tree.

THIRTY-SIX

I woke on Christmas morning even more full of goodwill. Watching my family interact with one another last evening while we decorated the tree together, seeing the real love and affection among them all, gave me the joy I had always associated with the season. I had gone through a period of a few years after my wife died when I feared the holidays, because all I could think about during that time was my loss. Trapped in grief, I couldn’t find the joy in anything, not even in my children.

Time helped heal those wounds, and gradually I came to enjoy the holidays again. Having my family and friends around me made that possible. Whereas before there were only my children and me, I now had my children’s spouses, their own children, my beautiful Helen Louise, and dear friends Melba, Stewart, and Haskell. My cup did indeed run over.

Another blessing this Christmas morning was the memory of a smiling, happy Tommy Russum, hand in hand with his father when they came to collect the kittens. Dr. McGillivray once again thanked me as he watched Tommy interact with the kittens. He carried the box with the toys and the food, and Tommy carried the kittens carefully in their box out to the doctor’s car. McGillivray declined the cage. Tommy wanted to keep the kittens in his room, and his parents were not going to contest that.

I thought Diesel might try to follow the kittens and Tommy out of the house, but he remained by my side in the doorway while we watched father and son load the boxes in the car. Tommy ran back up the walk to hug me and thank me again. Then he hugged Diesel and thanked him, too. Diesel meowed as if to tell the boy he was welcome.

After I closed the door, Diesel and I wandered back into the living room. The empty cage would have to be taken down soon. I didn’t want to have a reminder that the kittens were no longer with us. I would miss them and their playfulness, and I would certainly miss the headstrong, mischievous Ramses. I had held him for a moment before he joined the others in the box. He squirmed the whole time, always wanting to be loose and free to roam.

We woke early that morning, Diesel and I—earlier than usual, because today’s service at Helen Louise’s church started at nine. I had a few more things I wanted to do before I needed to shower and dress for church. I wished I could take Diesel with me, but the church would be full to overflowing. He would be better here at home. This would be one of the few times he was left all by himself in the house. It would be for only a couple of hours; then everyone would gather here to open presents and have our Christmas luncheon. I had hoped for a text or a call from Kanesha yesterday or even this morning, but so far, I hadn’t heard from her. I wondered whether she had found the evidence she needed to make an arrest. Perhaps my hunch about the brandy snifter had been a dud. Though I still thought Deirdre Thompson wasn’t as strong a candidate for murderer as Betty Camden, I knew that my wanting her to be guilty was colored to some degree by my intense dislike for the woman.

When I picked Helen Louise up at eight forty for the drive to church, she surprised me by telling me that Kanesha had come to see her yesterday evening after she got home from the Christmas Eve festivities.

“That was pretty late for her to be going around talking to witnesses,” I said.

“It was barely nine o’clock,” Helen Louise said. “I hadn’t been home long, and I wasn’t quite ready for bed then.”

“What did she want?” I asked.

“She wanted me to tell her anything I could remember about the movements of Betty Camden and Deirdre Thompson.”

“Were you able to give her any helpful information?”

“I think so,” Helen Louise said slowly. “I told her that Betty and Deirdre were involved in what looked like a fairly intense conversation before I joined them. I don’t know what they were talking about, but neither of them appeared happy.”

I hadn’t yet had time to share with Helen Louise all that we had learned yesterday. The Christmas Eve gathering was not the time to talk about murder. By the time we pulled into the church parking lot, I had managed to share the salient points. Helen Louise looked bemused by my rapid summation.

“It will be interesting to see who’s in church this morning,” she said as we got out of the car. The Camdens and Deirdre Thompson were members of the congregation.