Sleight Of Paw Part 21

She opened the top of the tiny carton, dumped a half dozen crackers into her hand, set them on the floor and then backed away.

Hercules strolled over, trying to act uninterested. He sniffed the crackers. I wouldn't say that he shoved his face in the tiny pile and started eating like a bear in a picnic basket, but the effect was very close.

Maggie handed me the box. I looked at the ingredients. Roma leaned over to take a peek, as well. No chemicals. Nothing I couldn't p.r.o.nounce. "Looks fine," Roma said.

I set the box on the counter. Herc gobbled the last fish and licked the crumbs off his face. He walked over to us, stopping in front of Maggie to meow a thank-you.

"You're welcome," she said with a smile. Hercules rubbed against my leg and headed back to the living room.

"So if I bring bribes will the cats like me?" Roma asked.

"They're not bribes; they're gifts of love," Maggie said, squaring her shoulders and sticking out her chin.

"Bribes," Roma repeated.

I took both women's coats. "It's not that Owen and Hercules don't like you . . ." I began.

Roma gave me a skeptical look.

"Okay, so it is that they don't like you, but in their defense, every time they see you, you stick them with a needle."

"I wouldn't like you that much if you poked me with a needle every time I saw you," Maggie said, peeking in my cookie jar to see if I had any brownies. "I guess you'll have to stick to hockey players."

Roma held out her hands and grinned. "I guess so." She seemed to have found her sense of humor about the Eddie rumor.

We moved into the living room and I turned on the lamp. Maggie curled in her favorite corner of the couch. Roma sat in the leather chair.

"You know, if Owen were a guy, I'd date him," Maggie said as the cat came over to sit by her feet.

Roma and I both laughed.

"No, really," Maggie said. "He's cute. He's crazy about me. Why not?"

"Mags," I said. "He has morning breath that would make your eyes water and a major addiction to catnip, and he smells every bite of food before he eats it."

Roma shrugged. "I've gone out with worse."

We all laughed.

"Have you ever thought about getting married again?" Maggie asked Roma.

"Well, not to a cat," she said.

Maggie threw a pillow at her. Roma caught it with one hand and tucked it behind her back. Her smile faded. "I don't even know if I'd be good at marriage," she said. "Luke and I were married only two years-he was killed by a drunk driver." She studied her left hand for a moment. "We were so young and married for such a short time, there wasn't a chance to find out what kind of a marriage it would've been." Then she smiled. "But I have Olivia."

Roma's daughter was a biologist and commercial diver working on a new TV show for the Exploration Channel.

"What about you, Maggie?" Roma asked sweetly. "Ever been married that you know of?"

Maggie stretched her hands behind her head. "No. First of all, I was what people call a late bloomer. I think I was maybe fifteen before I figured out why all my friends were so gaga about boys. Then I was concentrating on school. It was just my mom and me." She smiled down at Owen, still sitting adoringly by her side of the sofa. "In college I was a geek, working in the summer and studying every term, trying to hold on to my scholarship."

"What about you, Kathleen?" Roma asked.

Maggie and I exchanged glances. "I was almost married," I said.

"In Boston?" Roma leaned forward, clearly interested.

"Yes." Hercules appeared at my feet and I reached over to stroke the top of his head. "His name was . . . is Andrew. He's a contractor. He specializes in restoring old houses."

"What happened?" Roma asked. She held out both hands palms up. "You chose all of this instead?"

That made me laugh. "In a way. We had a fight. Andrew went away on a two-week trip with his friends. He married someone else while he was gone."

"You're kidding."

I shook my head. "True love, tequila style," I said. Telling the story didn't hurt the way it used to.

"So you decided if he could get married, you could come to Minnesota."

I grinned. "Pretty much."

Roma propped her feet on the footstool. "I think Toby Keith wrote a song about something like that. Was she a waitress at a honky-tonk?"

"Fifties diner, I think."

Roma shrugged. "Close enough."

"Maybe you were supposed to come here," Maggie said. "Maybe you'll meet Mr. Right here."

"I don't believe in soul mates or destiny," I said. "And don't even try to sell me on Marcus Gordon as my one true love."

"What's wrong with Marcus?" Roma asked.

I frowned at her and pulled up my feet. "He arrested Ruby," I said, holding up a finger. "He thought I was having an affair with Gregor Easton and that I might've killed him." Now I was holding up two fingers. "And he's annoying." I added one more finger to the other two.

Roma held up a finger of her own and waved it at me. "He's my best volunteer." She added another. "And he rescued Lucy and Desmond."

I folded my arms and watched her, amused. Now she was holding up three fingers. "And he helps coach the boys' hockey team."

So that's why he was such a good skater. "He arrested Ruby," I said.

"He's a police officer," she said. "He's doing his job. It wasn't just his call. And Marcus won't stop investigating just because Ruby's been arrested. He'll follow the evidence wherever it takes him, and he will figure out Ruby didn't do this."

"You like Marcus."

"I do. He's a good person. Give him a chance."

Owen chose that moment to meow his agreement.

"Not you, too," I said. He flicked his tail at me and went back to giving Maggie googley eyes.

I stood up. "As much as I like listening to you act like Marcus Gordon's cheerleader, I have to go make dumplings." The word "dumplings" got Owen's attention. He turned his head toward me. "C'mon," I said.

Owen kept up a murping commentary while I made dumplings and set them on top of the stew pot. The phone rang while I had my hands in the dough. "Maggie, would you get that and take a message, please?" I called.

"Got it," she said.

I was just putting the lid back on the pot when Maggie stuck her head in the kitchen.

"That was Rebecca," she said. "Ruby's okay. She has to spend the night in jail, but she'll go before a judge in the morning."

"We expected that," I said.

She leaned against the doorframe. "I don't understand how this got to be such a mess."

Roma came up beside Maggie as I started washing the few dirty dishes.

"How did Agatha die?" Roma asked. "Do you know?"

I hesitated. "I'm not certain." I sc.r.a.ped bits of dried dough out of the mixing bowl I'd used for the dumplings. "She might have been hit by a car."

Roma looked away for a second and Maggie lightly touched her shoulder. "You mean someone ran her down and then . . . ?"

"Maybe."

"Which proves it wasn't Ruby," Maggie said. "She would've never run someone over and just left them."

"No, she wouldn't," Roma agreed.

"What was Agatha like?" I asked to change the subject. "When she was young, when she was teaching?"

Maggie got out the placemats, and I handed Roma salt and pepper.

"Well, you saw her," Roma said. "She was tiny and as tough as nails. I've seen her face down kids and parents that were twice her size. She was on your side all the way if you were going to give it your best effort. But if she thought you weren't working, forget the excuses."

Maggie nodded. "Karen Anne Peary," she said.

Roma and I both turned to her.

"After Agatha retired she still did subst.i.tute teaching. She taught our math cla.s.s in grade six for a month because Mr. Kavanaugh broke his hand in gym, trying to teach the cla.s.s how to climb the ropes. Not a good idea if you're afraid of heights." She waved away the mental picture.

"Anyway, Agatha gave us a math test. Two-thirds of the cla.s.s failed, including me, including Karen Anne Peary. Mr. Kavanaugh graded generously and on a curve. Agatha didn't."

Roma was already smiling. Maggie handed her a fork and spoon. "Day after we got the tests back, Karen Anne's father showed up. Ever seen Mike Peary?"

"I don't think so," I said.

"Bigfoot," Roma said. "Okay, maybe a little bit hairier."

Maggie nodded in agreement. "Back then we were in a portable cla.s.sroom, like a Spam can with fake wood paneling inside. Agatha goes outside with Mr. Peary. He's a roaring at her, shaking those ma.s.sive hands. We were all at the windows, watching."

"What did she do?"

"Nothing," Maggie said, centering her placemat on the table. "She let him wind down and then she started to talk, and I swear you could see the man shrinking. All that hot air, gone."

"That sounds like her," Roma said.

"When she came back in she told us we were all going to get our grades up. And she promised Karen Anne in front of the entire cla.s.s that she would have an A by the end of the year."

Maggie laughed. "The only subject Karen Anne Peary was interested in was boys. Getting an A in math didn't seem very likely."

"But she did, didn't she?" Roma said.

Maggie nodded. "Agatha took a promise very seriously."

I thought of Harry Taylor, adamant about keeping his promise to a dead person.

I got three bowls down from the cupboard and checked the clock. The dumplings were just about done. "What was she like outside of school?"

"Her whole life was school," Roma said. "After she got divorced she threw her energy into David and the school. I don't think I told you she did a six-month stint of volunteer teaching in a school in rural Tennessee. That was Agatha."

Mags and Roma shared stories from their high school days over supper. I spent as much time laughing as I did eating.

"I want to see pictures," I said, pointing my spoon at Maggie.

"Nonexistent." She speared the last dumpling in her bowl. "When my mother moved I got every single one of them and burned them all."

"You didn't."

"Big hair and parachute pants, gone."

"I need to check in at the clinic," Roma said after the table was cleared and I'd turned down her offer to help with the dishes. She looked at Maggie. "Do you want a ride?"

"Yeah," Maggie said. "I don't feel like walking."

Hercules and Owen wandered in to say good-bye. "Call me if you hear anything," I said, giving Maggie a hug.

"You, too."

Owen made a low sound in his throat when the door closed. It was almost like a sigh.

"Just a little too over the top, Owen," I said, walking back into the living room. The house seemed so quiet with Maggie and Roma gone. Then I thought about Ruby sitting in a jail cell. I picked up the pillow Maggie had thrown at Roma and put it back on the sofa. I sat in the chair and pulled the phone closer. Hercules appeared at my feet as I punched in the number.

"Come on up," I said, patting my leg. He jumped and settled on my lap.

My brother, Ethan, answered on the fourth ring. "Hey, Mom said it was you."

Our mother always seemed to know when it was one of us on the phone. Ethan would be on the road, hundreds of miles away. The phone would ring and Mom would say, "Get the phone, Katie. That's your brother." And the next thing I'd hear would be, "This is a collect call from . . ."