THE CAT WHO SAW STARS_

“No, and I stayed away from Sandpit Road! Then, after he died, Ernie called the ranch and wanted me to have dinner with her at the hotel. She said I was the only person she knew within two thousand miles. So I went to her suite. She had two dinners sent up and champagne in an ice bucket. It was neat! She threw her arms around me and cried a bit, and I got sort of choked up, too. At first we just talked about Florida. When they decided to come up here, she drove the convertible, and Owen drove the RV, towing the Suncatcher. She really didn’t care for boats, but he said they should take a picnic cruise on their day off, or people would talk… God! I need a cigarette!”

There had been times in Qwilleran’s life when he needed a smoke or a drink – desperately - so he said, “Go ahead. I’ll walk around and look at the chicken scratchings.”

When Barb was revived and had carefully buried the evidence, she returned to the conference area. “Alice comes down here to check up on me,” she explained.

“Do you smoke while you’re knitting?”

“No. Never.”

“That should tell you something,” he said. “Knit more; smoke less; live longer.”

“Yes, doctor,” she said impudently. “Now go on with your story.”

“Well, on their first day off after opening the restaurant, they were out on the lake when a weird speedboat started following them and finally flagged them down.”

Fat Mama, Qwilleran thought.

“Owen told them to buzz off. He said the Suncatcher was not for sale. But Ernie was suspicious.

You can’t live in Florida without knowing what goes on, drugwise, and she had seen some locked suitcases down in the cabin. She started asking innocent questions and pretended not to be shocked by the answers. Putting two and two together, she figured that Owen had a commission from a Florida drug ring and was supposed to open up a new market in an area that was ripe for it. He told her to keep her eyes shut and her mouth shut, and it would be the best investment she ever made. If she didn’t, he told her, she’d never cook another meal.

He was quite cool about it.”

“What did she do?”

“What could she do?” Barb said. “She didn’t want to be a dead chef. But if she kept her mouth shut, wouldn’t that make her an accomplice? She had nightmares about cooking vats of oatmeal in a prison kitchen. It was driving her crazy. She started making mistakes at the restaurant.”

“I heard about the mistakes,” Qwilleran said. “Derek was concerned about her. He thought she was worried about Owen’s drinking. There were two theories about his death. A lot of people thought he was crocked and fell overboard.”

“I know, but Ernie told me she’d made a deal with the devil. Owen would put her through chef’s school, and she’d run his restaurant. All she ever wanted in life was to work with food, supervise a kitchen train a staff, and wear a chef’s toque. She didn’t care if he drank a fifth a day and chased women. She hoped he’d die of cirrhosis, and the restaurant would be hers. Suddenly she got an idea that would get her off the hook with Owen, and she could start her own business - with Derek as a partner.” She stopped and gulped. “I need another cigarette… Please!”

“Go ahead.” Qwilleran took another turn around the enclosure. He even talked to the crows in their own language, cawing the way Koko did, but they ignored him.

After the ritual of burying the butt, Barb was ready to talk. “This isn’t easy to talk about,” she said. “Ernie should never have told me. But I need to get it off my mind.”

“I’m listening,” he said in a tone more sympathetic than he had been using.

“It was their second day off. There aren’t many pleasure boats around on a Monday, and Owen said they wouldn’t be bothered by customers from Bixby because the deal was: Never on Monday. He said some stupid guy had got his signals crossed the week before… So they anchored at Pirate Shoals. Ernie ate her lunch, and Owen drank his. She chattered about new items she wanted to put on the menu, and finally Owen flaked out on the banquette in the stem. As soon as he started snoring, she got a potato skewer from the picnic basket and stabbed him in the ear. Then rolled him over the railing.”

There was silence in the glyph garden. Even the crows were quiet.

After a while, Qwilleran said, “Wouldn’t there be a lot of blood - from an artery?”

“She sopped it up with towels and stuffed them in the bait bucket. Then she threw it overboard, along with the locked suitcases. She moved the boat about a mile before calling for help.”

“One question, Barb. Why did she tell you all this? Why didn’t she keep her grisly little secret?”

“I don’t know. We’d drunk two bottles of champagne, and she conked out on the bed. I wasn’t in any condition to drive, so I flopped on the sofa. I woke up early in the morning and went home… God! What had she done to me? I didn’t know what to do! There was no one I could ask for advice. Which is worse? To betray someone who trusts you? Or to be a party to murder? I went around like a zombie for a week, and then - “