Sleight Of Paw Part 22

"So, you haven't run off with a yeti or anything yet," Ethan said. I could picture him grinning.

"No," I said indignantly. "We've just started dating."

He laughed and the sound made me catch my breath with homesickness.

"So, what's up?"

"Winterfest."

"What's Winterfest? Some kind of pagan ritual where you all join hands in a circle and ask the G.o.ds of winter not to send any more snow?"

"Actually we ask them to send it all to Boston," I countered. That got another laugh. I told him about the sliding hill, my victory at the puck shoot and my first time on skates.

"Are there any pictures? Any cell-phone video?" he teased. "Because I have cash."

"Forget it. The only way you're going to see me on skates is if you come and do it in person."

"You inviting me to visit?"

"Anytime, baby brother," I said. "We're planning a big party for the library in the spring."

"Yeah, maybe I will. When things quiet down. I miss having you to boss me around."

I felt that twist of homesickness again, but I swallowed it away. Ethan and I talked about his band, The Flaming Gerbils-which was spending a lot more time on the road-and his love life, which was always entertaining and way more complicated than anyone's I knew.

Finally Ethan said, "I'd better let you talk to Mom. She's hovering."

"Stay out of trouble," I said. "I love you."

"Love you, too," he said, handing the phone off to Mom.

"I wasn't hovering" were the first words out of her mouth.

"Okay."

"I was lurking," she continued.

"What's the difference?"

"It's all in how you hold your upper body."

I wasn't sure if she was joking or not. With my mother you couldn't always tell.

"How are you, Katydid?"

"I'm fine."

"Tell me about Winterfest," she said. My mother read the Mayville Heights paper online, so she always had a general idea of what was going on here.

I told her all about the winter carnival, including my turn around the outdoor rink. She laughed. "So that's what Ethan was teasing you about."

"Yeah," I said. "It's a good thing there are no pictures. Knowing him, I might end up an Internet star."

"Are there any photos of Maggie's installation?" Mom asked. "I'd love to see it."

"I don't think she'd mind if I took some and e-mailed them to you."

"Thank you, sweetie."

We talked for a few more minutes. Mom and Dad were working on a production of King Lear at the school where they both taught. She was directing and he was playing the old king. They were speaking at the moment, but I knew before the production started there'd be fireworks. There always were, which is why they'd been married twice. There were crazy for each other, but they also made themselves and everyone around them crazy, too.

I thought about telling Mom about Ruby and letting her rea.s.sure me that everything would work out. But I didn't. I didn't want her to worry that I'd gotten tangled up in another crime, even if only peripherally.

Finally I said good-bye and set the phone back on the table. Hercules lifted his head and looked at me. No matter what I did, I couldn't stop thinking about Ruby. I couldn't let it go.

I remembered what Maggie had said. Ruby couldn't even kill a mouse in her apartment. She hadn't killed Agatha. Not deliberately. Not by accident. I didn't care what evidence Marcus had. Ruby wasn't that kind of person.

If I hadn't found that sliver of gla.s.s in my pants cuff, would Ruby be in jail right now? I couldn't help feeling responsible. Was there anything I could say to Marcus to make him see he was wrong? No. He believed in evidence, not feelings. The only way I could convince him Ruby was innocent was to prove it.

I looked into the cat's green eyes. "You know Ruby didn't kill Agatha," I said. "How are we going to find out who did?"

15.

Before I could get up, the phone rang. We both jumped. Herc teetered on my lap like a high-wire walker in a windstorm, and almost fell off.

I put one hand on the cat and picked up the phone with the other. It was Rebecca.

"Hi," I said. "Maggie gave me your message from earlier."

"Oh, good," she said. "I'm hoping you can do me a favor. It's for Ruby, actually."

"Of course. What do you need?"

"Her lawyer called. Ruby needs clothes for court in the morning. I have Violet's keys, so I have a key to Ruby's apartment, too."

"And you'd like me to go with you." It was only a couple of days ago that I'd gone with Ruby to find clothes for Agatha.

"If you don't mind. Ruby's style is quite a bit different from mine."

I smiled. "Mine, too, but between the two of us we should be able to find something that will work."

We settled on a time in the morning and said good night.

"This is a sign," I said.

Hercules looked at the phone and then at me.

"All right, so I don't believe in signs," I said. "But if I did, this would be one." He just kept staring at me. "Rebecca wants me to help her find something for Ruby to wear to court. I'm going to meet her at Ruby's apartment in the morning." He still didn't so much as blink. "Ruby's apartment," I repeated. "Where she probably took that bag of Agatha's things Lita gave her. You know," I leaned close to his furry black and white face. "That bag that may have the envelope everyone was fighting with her about."

His green eyes narrowed. "Agatha had that envelope with her, and it seems to have disappeared. Maybe it had nothing to do with her death, but I have to start somewhere."

Hercules lifted a paw and smacked me on the arm.

"Ow!" I said. It didn't actually hurt, but I was trying to make a point. Why did he suddenly have to develop standards about me poking around in one of Marcus's cases?

"Look, all I want to do is look in that bag," I said. "If Ruby wasn't in jail you know she'd let me." Hercules actually seemed to consider that thought. "I'd wait if I had the time"-I leaned in even closer-"but I don't."

I set him on the floor, brushed off my lap and headed for the stairs. He was in front of me before I'd taken more than a couple of steps.

"It's for a good cause," I said. "And I'm not asking you to help me." I closed my eyes and pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead. I'd lost my mind. I really had this time. I was trying to justify to a cat what I was going to do.

I opened my eyes and looked into deep green cat eyes in a cute, furry black-and-white face. He looked like any other house cat, ready to rub against my leg or chase dust b.a.l.l.s under the bed. But he wasn't someone's cute, cuddly house pet.

Would I have figured out how Gregor Easton died without Hercules? Or Owen? Herc had found a bead and a piece of very unique musical notation that helped me put all the pieces together. Not only had Easton's killer been caught, but Rebecca and Everett had gotten back together.

And when the house was broken into last summer, Hercules had gone for help while Owen had helped me fight off the intruder.

I imagined for a moment telling Maggie or Roma that Owen and Hercules had helped me find Gregor Easton's killer. They'd laugh. They'd think it was some kind of joke.

But the cats had. Which didn't mean they had to do it again.

"Marcus isn't going to look for another killer," I said to the cat. "At best, all he's going to do is look for more evidence against Ruby." I shrugged. "She's my friend. She's Maggie's friend. We're just going to have to agree to disagree."

I turned and headed for the kitchen instead, trying to ignore the insanity of telling a cat we were going to have to agree to disagree.

I filled the sink with hot water and bubbles and I was just starting to wash the gla.s.ses when I heard a noise. What the heck were those two doing now?

I went to the living room doorway. Hercules was coming across the floor, backward, from the closet, dragging my messenger bag, the strap in his teeth. His way, I realized, of telling me he'd help.

I walked over and crouched down to his level. He let go of the woven strap and looked at me. I suddenly had a giant lump in my throat. I kissed the top of his head. "Thank you," I said hoa.r.s.ely.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Owen by the end of the couch doing his neglected-cat pose. I reached out my right hand to him. "I love you, too, fur ball," I said. He scooted over and leaned against the side of my leg.

We were the Three Musketeers. We were Batman and Robin and a librarian.

We were probably nuts.

16.

I got up Monday morning to warmer weather and no snow. While Hercules and Owen ate, I sat at the table with a cup of coffee.

I was having major second thoughts. Maybe I should wait until Ruby was out on bail, then get her to let me check the bag. But what if she doesn't make bail? a voice in my head asked.

Hercules finished his breakfast, walked over to the messenger bag I'd hung over one of the chairs the night before and gave it a swat with one paw.

"No," I said.

He hit the bag again.

I took it off the back of the chair and set it on the seat. "I'm happy you've decided to help," I said. "I really am. But I can't take you with me. How would I explain that to Rebecca?"

He jumped, landing on the chair seat and sending the nylon bag to the floor. Then he turned and stared defiantly at me.

"Oh, like that's going to work." I scooped the bag from the floor and set it on top of the fridge.

I should have known he wasn't going to give up easily. He hopped down and headed for the porch.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

Owen glanced up from his food, decided he had no dog-or in this case, cat-in this fight and went back to eating. I set my cup down and scrambled after Hercules. I knew if he wanted to he could get outside on his own. On the other hand, how likely was that? Outside meant snow, cold and wet feet.

That wasn't going to stop him. He was already in the yard. Hercules had committed to the plan and he was going to see it through. I yanked on my boots and hurried after him. He was halfway around the house, walking slowly, almost gingerly, stopping every few steps to shake one paw or another.

"Hercules, c'mon," I called. It was cold and I didn't have a jacket. I hugged myself, trying to stay warm. He looked back over his shoulder at me. "I can't take you," I said.

He headed for the driveway again.

This was stupid. I lunged for him, intending to scoop him up and go back inside. He darted forward, faster than I'd ever seen him move in the snow. I overreached, skidded on a small patch of ice and went sprawling on the path.

Hercules turned and craned his neck toward me.

"I'm fine," I grumped. I got slowly to my feet, brushing off the snow that clung to my sweater and pants. The heel of my left hand was red where it had sc.r.a.pped along the frozen snow. I looked down at the cat. "You can come," I said. "This is completely insane, but you can come."

He lifted one front paw and shook it, then gave a pitiful-sounding meow. "Oh, for heaven's sake," I said. I bent and picked him up. "I'm the one who went tail over teakettle on the ice, and you're the one who's getting carried."

He snuggled into the crook of my arm and gave me a self-satisfied smirk.

Inside I set Hercules on the kitchen floor and brushed off the last bits of snow sticking to my sweater. The side of my hand stung where it had sc.r.a.pped across the ground. Owen and Hercules exchanged looks, then Owen turned to stare at me. Again I wondered if they shared come kind of cat telepathy. Considering everything else they could do it wasn't that far-fetched.

On one of the shelves in the hall closet I found a piece of orange fake fur. I stuffed it in the bottom of the messenger bag. Hercules came over, looked inside and shook his head.

"It's left over from the mad-scientist costume I wore at Halloween," I said. "It'll be warm."