Laurie Cass - Bookmobile Cat 02 - Tailing a Tabby Page 6

  Quincy said, “And they’re still filming that cooking show up here, aren’t they? Maybe you could get on that.”

  Harris laughed and visibly relaxed. “Oh, come on, it’s not that good. Not Trock’s Troubles good.”

  We all protested. I hoped Harris wouldn’t catch on to the fact that it was a token effort.

  With the compliments done, Aunt Frances moved on to the next item on her agenda. “Quincy,” she said heartily. “Did you see the creation Paulette made the other day? She’s a knitting magician, don’t you think?”

  It was obvious that Quincy cared far less about Paulette’s needleworking skills than he did about staring into Deena’s eyes. “Sure,” he said vaguely, most of his attention still on Deena. “Nice work, Paulette. Real nice socks you made.”

  Paulette stared at him. “They were mittens.”

  But Quincy had already turned back to Deena.

  Aunt Frances sent me a despairing look. “So, Zofia,” she said, reaching for a piece of toast. “Did you hear that Leo ran ten miles yesterday? Nice to see people our age take such an interest in fitness, don’t you think?”

  Zofia slathered butter on her own piece of toast, then added a large dollop of orange marmalade. “Hard on the joints, running is. Don’t want knee replacement surgery myself.”

  I watched Aunt Frances bite her lower lip. Something had to be done, and done fast.

  “Say,” I said. “Did I tell you what Eddie did the other day?”

  Everyone, Aunt Frances included, turned to me, smiles already forming on their faces. They were all familiar with Eddie stories and I’d been told—in a friendly way—not to show up to breakfast if I didn’t have a new one.

  I launched into his most recent escapade, one that involved a marina neighbor’s eighty-pound black Labrador retriever, a bit of bread fallen from who knew where, and a short cat vs. dog tussle over said bread. Soon everyone was laughing and I breathed a small internal sigh of relief that Aunt Frances was joining in.

  Eddie to the rescue. The world was indeed a mysterious place.

  • • •

  “Good morning, Minnie.” My left-hand neighbor, Louisa, pulled her long white hair into a ponytail and tied it with a scarf. “The weather forecasters have been at it again, did you see? Wish I could have had a job that let me make so many mistakes.”

  “Last I checked,” I said, looking at the blue sky, “they were saying mostly sunny and mid-seventies.”

  “You poor dear,” she said sympathetically. “On your Saturday off, no less. Now they’re saying seventy percent chance of rain and high sixties.” She turned and pointed to the west.

  I looked where her index finger was aiming. A solid line of clouds was low on the horizon and inching our way. “Maybe it’ll blow apart.” But the line was dark and thick and heavy. I tried another possibility. “Or maybe it’ll stay out on Lake Michigan. That happens, sometimes.”

  Louisa studied the incoming weather, an educated gaze born from years of Great Lakes boating. She pursed her lips, deepening the small vertical lines around her mouth, and shook her head. “Not today. It’s going to start raining around eleven and it’s not going to quit for hours.”

  “Little Miss Sunshine, you are not,” I said wryly. “Tucker and I were going to go out on Janay Lake today.” So much for the picnic I was going to make. So much for the route I’d laid out, and so much for the bottle of wine Kristen had recommended.

  “Hmm.” Louisa put her hand to her forehead and frowned mightily. “You and that fine-looking young doctor? My, my. What could two young, single people possibly do on a rainy day?”

  I tried not to laugh. “How do you know I’m that kind of girl?”

  “If the circumstances are right, we’re all that kind of girl.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Have a nice day, dear.”

  This time I did laugh.

  • • •

  While I waited for Tucker to show up, I came up with numerous alternative plans for the day that ranged from sitting around the boat and hoping Louisa was wrong about the weather to driving to Traverse City and trying every brewpub in town, to driving back and forth across the Mackinac Bridge hoping to watch a thousand-foot freighter cruise underneath us.

  I stood at the boat’s cockpit, trying not to frown at the incoming weather. “We’re not going to let a little rain stop us from having fun,” I said out loud. “We’re just not.”

  Eddie, who was lying on the back of the dining area’s bench seat, opened one eye, then closed it again just as Tucker came to the door.

  “Knock, knock,” he said through the screen.

  “Hey there.” I felt a happy smile on my face and saw an answering one on his. “Come on in. Welcome to my humble abode.”

  He stepped inside, and while the houseboat had always seemed just the right size for me, it suddenly seemed far too small with the addition of a five-foot-ten, broad-shouldered man.

  “This is really great.” He looked out the front window and ran his hand along the cockpit’s dashboard. “When you get tired of people, you just untie your house and go for a boat ride.”

  It was a common reaction for first-time visitors. I decided not to tell him about the utilitarian technicalities involved in detaching. Let the boy keep his illusions.

  “And this galley.” He grinned at the miniature kitchen. “What more do you need?”

  “Mrr.”

  Tucker spun around. Eddie was now standing up on the back of the seat and stretching his head high. The furry face and the human face weren’t exactly eye to eye, but it was pretty close.

  “Ah.” Tucker lifted a hesitant hand. “This must be Eddie.” He looked at me. “Is it okay if I pet him?”

  “As long as you don’t mind getting cat hair all over you.”

  Tucker looked at his clothes. Dark red polo shirt over khaki shorts. “It’ll come off, won’t it?”

  Eventually. “You didn’t have cats growing up, did you?”

  He shook his head and gave Eddie a tentative rub. Eddie immediately pushed against the pat, putting his weight into it, which was enough force that Tucker’s weight was shifted. He took half a step backward. “Cat’s got some strength, doesn’t he?”

  “You should smell his breath.”

  Tucker eyed Eddie. “Um…”

  I laughed. “Joking. His breath isn’t that bad.” Most of the time. I watched Eddie watching Tucker. My little pal was being as tentative with my boyfriend as my boyfriend was being with my cat. For a brief second I considered telling Tucker that Eddie liked being talked to, but I ran the conversation through my head and gave it a pass.

  “So,” I said, “what do you want to—”

  Ka-bam!

  A clap of thunder buffeted the air, so intense it was almost too loud to be heard. On its heels came a sizzle of lightning that made the hairs on my arms stand up.

  “Mrr,” Eddie said.

  I wasn’t sure if he was protesting the storm or the way Tucker was petting him. “So,” I tried again. “What do you want to—”

  Rain fell from the sky in large, loud drops. I looked at my watch. Louisa had been all of ten minutes off.

  I glanced out through the front window, out to the driving rain. If this rain kept up, neither driving down to Traverse City nor going up to the Mackinac Bridge would be very sensible, or very relaxing.

  “So,” I said, hoping I wasn’t starting an infinite loop. “What do you want to—”

  Tucker help up his index finger and bent his head to his shoulder. “Ah… ah… choo!” He rubbed his face, still holding up his index finger, and sneezed two more deep sneezes.

  “Are you getting sick?” I asked.

  “I work in a hospital. You wouldn’t believe what walks in the door.”

  It was hard not to edge away. “Oh.”

  He smiled. “No, honest
ly, I feel fine. There’s probably just a lot of stuff in the air right now, with that storm coming in.”

  I wasn’t sure that made a lot of sense, but hey, he was the doctor. On the other hand, wasn’t it a truism that doctors couldn’t make their own diagnoses?

  “So, what do you want to do today?” he asked. “I assume boating is out.”

  Yes, the signs were there. Slightly reddened eyes, slightly running nose, and a slight sag to his normally straight shoulders. Maybe it was just fatigue. He worked far too many weird hours, and that could do a number on anyone’s immune system. But the last thing I wanted to do was drag him out to expend more energy and make things worse.

  On the other hand, what were we going to do all day? I kept my thoughts firmly averted from Louisa’s suggestion. We barely knew each other, after all.

  Tucker hooked his finger under Eddie’s chin. “Hey, he’s purring!” He grinned. “I’m not sure I ever made a cat purr before.”

  “Mrr,” Eddie said, and pushed up against Tucker’s rubbing.

  An idea popped into my head. “What do you think about going to the movies?”

  Both Eddie and Tucker turned to look at me. Eddie didn’t say anything, but Tucker sneezed and said, “Hot buttered popcorn, Sno-Caps, a vat of soda, and I’m happy for hours.”

  “You are so not alone.”

  “Any kind of movie you don’t like?”

  “No horror.”

  He grinned. “I don’t do movies with subtitles. Too much work.”

  “I doubt the multiplex in Petoskey is showing any foreign films today.”

  He held out his hand to me, palm up, inviting me to take it. “Then I say we have a plan.”

  • • •

  The Saturday movie marathon was a great success. We chose movies based on nothing whatsoever, picked out snacks based on what the people ahead of us bought, and after the credits rolled, we ventured out to the lobby to check the weather. If it was still raining, we went back for another round of movie and snacks. Since on that particular day it rained for twelve hours straight, we saw a lot of movies. And had a lot of snacks.

  “How many movies did you watch?” Kristen had asked on Sunday afternoon. “You were really in there all day?”

  And a good chunk of the night. I tallied up the films on my fingers. “There was the new Pixar movie at noon, then that romantic comedy with what’s her name around two, then a really funny vampire movie at four thirty, then that end-of-the-world movie at seven, and last was the big new thriller at nine.”

  Kristen was counting along with me. “You watched five movies?”

  “It was almost six. They were having a midnight showing of the first Star Wars movie, but Tucker had to be at the hospital early this morning.”

  “Sounds fun,” she said halfheartedly.

  For us, it had been. During the intervals between the movies, we discussed the plots and characters of the movie we’d just watched, learning a little more about each other in the process.

  I was telling Kristen all about it when my cell phone rang. “Do you mind?” I asked and, when she shrugged, took the call. It was a short conversation, and when it was over, I hung up, smiling.

  “Looks like I’m going to lunch tomorrow at the one restaurant in town that’s more expensive than yours,” I said.

  Kristen’s eyebrows went up. “Tucker’s taking you to Seven Street? Must be true love.”

  “Seven Street, yes,” I said. “But it’s not Tucker. It’s a woman.”

  My best friend’s eyebrows went up even farther. “Does Tucker know about this?”

  I grinned. “He’s met her.”

  • • •

  Barb McCade was already seated when I walked into the restaurant. I’d eaten at Seven Street once before, so I knew my typical library attire wouldn’t fit in. That morning I’d chosen a soft dress and covered it with a jacket that almost matched. Stephen had nodded at me approvingly over his coffee mug. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was a onetime deal.

  “I’m so glad you could come,” Barb said. “I thought about Three Seasons, but I thought this would be more special.”

  Part of our conversation at the hospital had included the facts that Three Seasons was one of the McCades’ favorite restaurants and that the owner of said restaurant was a good friend of mine.

  “No apology necessary,” I told her. “Matter of fact, there might be a law about that. No apologies required for any behavior incurred during times of extreme emergency.”

  She laughed. “Aren’t you a sweetheart? But as I said before, I should have called right away to thank you for all you did.”

  “Oh. Well.” I shifted around in my seat, trying to find a comfortable way to accept undeserved praise. In a weird way, I felt as if I’d finally been able to help Mr. Herrington, my old boss. It didn’t make sense, but that was the way I felt and I would never share that feeling, ever. “Anyone would have done the same thing. I was just the first person to come along, that’s all.”

  “Actually you were the fourth.” Her tone went a little flat.

  I winced, then nodded at a passing waitress. “But Cade’s still doing well?”

  “Much.” The happiness was back. “He’s been transferred out of the hospital and into Lakeview for a few weeks of rehabilitation therapy.”

  “That’s wonderful!” The Lakeview Medical Care Facility in Chilson was not only a nursing home, but also a long-term and rehabilitation care provider. “So…” I hesitated. “Is he… I mean…”

  Barb was willing to voice the frightening question that I was dancing around. “Is he going to recover enough to paint again? The doctors say yes, with time. Cade figures that means a month at most.” She laughed.

  “Five weeks,” I said confidently, and waved at a pair of not-quite-elderly ladies on their way to be seated.

  She laughed. “Minnie Hamilton, you are just what the doctor ordered. Anytime you want to stop by and see Cade at Lakeview, you go right ahead. He’s in a restricted-access room, but I’ll make sure your name is on the visitor list.”

  A warmth spread through me. “If you think he’d like to see me, I’d be happy to stop by.”

  “Minnie, he wants to paint you.”

  Ack. “Then there’s no way I’ll stop and see him.”

  She laughed again. “That’s the third time you’ve made me laugh in five minutes. I’m not sure I’ve laughed since the stroke except when you’re around. Forget Cade, stop by and see me.”

  “With the bookmobile or without?” I asked, then stood to say hello to the cane-carrying Mr. Goodwin.

  “Minnie,” Barb said, when I sat down. “Do you know everyone in this town?”

  I smiled. “Only the ones who have a library card.”

  The most elegant woman I’d ever met in my life paused at our table. “Good afternoon, Barb. And, Minnie, how are you?”

  Once again, I stood. “Mrs. Grice, it’s nice to see you again.”

  The very wealthy and widowed Caroline Grice smiled. “It wasn’t long ago that you were calling me Caroline. How is it that we’ve regressed so far?”

  “Well, because I’m not that smart. Really I’m not.” Because if I’d had half a brain I would have guessed that Caroline, primary sponsor of Chilson’s Lakeview Art Gallery, would know the McCades.

  Barb laughed. “Don’t believe a word of it, Caroline. Minnie here is one of the brightest young women I’ve met in ages.” The two women exchanged a few more pleasantries; then Caroline moved on.

  “You can’t tell me,” Barb said, “that Caroline Grice has a library card.”

  “Well, no.” She had recently made a nice donation to the library, though.

  “Then you do know everyone in town.” When I started shaking my head, she covertly pointed to the front of the room. “How about her?”

 
I glanced at the hostess. “Cheryl Stone. She and her sister are trying to start a sheep farm north of town. I don’t know her sister’s name, though.”

  “Still counts. And him?” She gestured to a man at the table nearest to us.

  “One of the county commissioners.”

  Barb solemnly held up her water glass. “To Minnie, the person to call if I ever need an introduction to anyone in town.”

  I snorted out an unladylike noise and tinked my glass to hers. “To Barb, who is far too easily impressed.”

  We both laughed, and I got the comfortable feeling that we were going to be friends for a long, long time.

  • • •

  Twice that week, I went over to Lakeview Medical Care Facility, but both times I stopped by, Cade was sleeping. Both times I wrote out a short note that said I’d stop again, and ended the note with a bad sketch of Eddie.

  Then, late on Friday night, or rather, early on Saturday morning, my cell phone rang. As I’d placed it on the small dresser next to my bed, the ringtone made Eddie jump as high as I did.

  I fumbled for the ON button and managed to say hello.

  “Minnie? It’s Barb. I’m so sorry to wake you, but I didn’t know who else to call. You were so helpful when Cade had his stroke, and you know everyone around here and… oh, God, I’m so sorry. I must sound like an idiot. Go back to sleep and forget I ever—”

  “Barb,” I said calmly. Or as calmly as I could after being jerked awake in the wee hours of the morning. “Talk to me. How can I help?”

  “Oh, Minnie, you are a blessing.” She pulled in a small breath. “Do you know a good lawyer? A criminal lawyer? Because the sheriff is about to arrest Cade. For…” She stopped for another life-sustaining gasp of air. “For murder.”

  Chapter 5

  I threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. Eddie voiced his displeasure, but for once I didn’t explain anything to him.

  “I’ll make some phone calls,” I told Barb. “Don’t worry. I’ll find somebody.”

  “Oh, Minnie…”

  “No crying,” I said firmly. “Not until later, anyway.”

  Amazingly, she laughed. A small laugh, but still. “You’re right. No crying until later. Minnie, how did you get so smart while so young?”