Sleight Of Paw Part 24

"Hey, Kathleen."

Or Eric needing to get into his office.

I turned around.

"Is there a problem with the restroom?"

"Um, no," I said. "I wanted to talk to you in private."

His expression was instantly guarded. "This really isn't a good time."

I took a step closer so he couldn't go around me easily. Then I pushed the bag behind me with one foot. "You, uh, you look tired," I said gently. Whatever was wrong with Eric, I didn't want to make him feel worse.

"Yeah, well, I had a tooth that was giving me problems." He wiped a hand on his ap.r.o.n. "Like I said, this isn't a good time." He moved to go around me.

Maybe being gentle wasn't going to work. "It's a heck of a lot worse time for Ruby."

That stopped him in his tracks. He turned. "Look," he said. "I'm sorry that Ruby was arrested. And for the record, I don't think she had anything to do with Agatha's death. But neither did I." He pulled a hand over the back of his head and his eyes slid off my face. "Is that what you wanted to know, Kathleen?"

Since he was being direct, there was no reason for me not to be the same. "The night she died Agatha was in here. She was carrying an envelope," I said. "It was an old brown envelope with a metal tab closure, probably from a report card."

"If you say so."

"You argued with her about it."

"I didn't argue with Agatha about anything." His body language said different. He shifted uneasily from one foot to another.

"You weren't the only one," I said. "It had to mean something."

"We didn't argue," he said again.

"Call it a discussion, then. Call it whatever you want. I think whatever was inside the envelope might have something to do with Agatha's death. And now, very conveniently for someone, it's disappeared."

Eric looked me in the eye then. "Look, Kathleen. I don't know what you think you saw, but Agatha and I didn't fight over an old envelope or whatever might or might not have been inside. You misunderstood what you saw." He looked away just a little too quickly.

I took a couple of steps sideways, trying to turn Eric away from his office door, and waited, hoping the silence would nudge him into saying more.

"After Agatha had that stroke, she got argumentative over things that didn't matter, like how many packets of mayo I gave her with her sandwich."

I shook my head ever so slightly. I knew what I'd seen. Eric hadn't been arguing with the old woman over mayonnaise.

"And she started collecting things-junk, really-things she tore out of the newspaper, things she found around town."

I thought of the collection in the canvas bag-the gloves, the postcard. Maybe he was right. Then I remembered how protective Agatha had been about that brown envelope. She hadn't felt the same way about the bag and its contents because she'd left it behind at the community center. And no matter what Eric was saying now, he had argued with her about that envelope.

Eric crossed his arms and ran one hand up and down his upper arm. "Kathleen, no offense, but you're not from here, and you haven't known us that long. You didn't know Agatha at all."

You're not one of us. I'd heard that before. It used to make me feel left out, but this time all I felt was angry. Eric was lying; that was clear by the way he couldn't look at me for more than a few seconds at a time. He was using the fact that I wasn't Mayville born and bred to avoid being honest with me.

I felt a faint change in the air, in the energy of a small hallway.

Hercules.

Eric didn't seem to notice. He was turned away from the office, and over his shoulder I saw Hercules come through the door. The cat blinked, looked around and then disappeared into the bag.

"You're right," I said to Eric, my heart pounding with relief. "I haven't been here nearly long enough to know everyone. But I do know Ruby didn't kill Agatha and she doesn't deserve what's happening to her." I moved behind him and grabbed the strap of the bag.

"Please think about that, Eric," I said. I walked back to the table, setting the messenger bag on my chair. "You are in deep, deep trouble," I whispered to the cat. I could see one green eye watching me through the top mesh panel.

Jaeger had my order ready. I paid and walked back to the library with Hercules slung securely over my shoulder and my hand on top of the bag.

Inside my office with the door closed, I let Hercules out.

"I can't believe you did that," I said, pulling off my coat and hat. "Twice in the same morning. How would I have explained why I had a cat in Eric's restaurant? Huh?"

His response was to poke the take-out bag with a paw. "I'm not surprised you're hungry," I said, pulling out the toasted English m.u.f.fin sandwich and fishing out some of the egg for him. "The life of a cat burglar will do that to you."

I ate a bite of the m.u.f.fin, then pulled out a strip of crispy bacon. Hercules spit a piece of paper at me, s.n.a.t.c.hed the bacon from my fingers and jumped to the floor in one smooth motion.

"Hey!" I yelled. He was already under my desk.

I bent down and peered underneath in time to see the last bit of bacon disappear into his mouth. "This isn't a funny," I said. "No sardines for you for the rest of the week."

He licked his lips. The piece of paper he had swiped from Eric's office had fallen on the floor. I picked it up, straightened it and smoothed it flat on the desktop. There was a rushing sound in my head, like I'd held a seash.e.l.l up to my ear.

The piece of paper was the top part of an envelope.

An old brown report-card envelope.

18.

I dropped into the closest chair, trying to make sense out of something that wasn't making any sense at all.

Agatha had been carrying around an old brown envelope. That envelope had disappeared just before or just after her death. Eric claimed he knew nothing about it.

Except Hercules had found a piece of the same kind of envelope in Eric's office. The same kind of envelope, or a piece of the envelope Agatha had been carrying around?

No matter what Eric said, I was certain of one thing: Whatever had been inside that envelope was important. Important enough that Eric would lie and Old Harry would stay silent.

Hercules poked his head out from under the desk. "Come on out," I said. "I'm not mad." I put the remaining slice of bacon and the rest of the egg on the floor on the waxed-paper sandwich wrapper. I kept the English m.u.f.fin for myself.

So now what? I didn't know. What I did know was that I knew very little about Agatha Shepherd. Maybe if I learned more about the woman, I'd be able to figure out what secret she'd been holding on to so tightly.

I looked at my watch. I had just enough time to get Hercules home and come back. I wasn't looked forward to another trip up and down the hill.

I swallowed the last of my coffee. "Come on, Fuzz Face," I said. I picked up the cat and popped him in the bag yet again. I fished the cinnamon roll I'd gotten for Owen out of the paper take-out bag.

I was getting good at dressing for the cold. We were out on the sidewalk in less than five minutes. As I headed to the corner, the strap of the messenger bag securely across my body, I thought for maybe the hundredth time this winter that I really needed a car. Hiking all over the place in a heavy parka and boots was wearing me out.

As I started up Mountain Road, Harry Taylor's truck pulled up beside me. Harry leaned over and pointed at the empty seat beside him. I couldn't help wondering if his driving by again was planned or a coincidence. I decided I didn't care. It was cold. I nodded.

"What are you doing out so early?" he asked as I got in.

"I was at Ruby's with Rebecca," I said, as Harry pulled away from the curb.

"I heard she was arrested," he said, his eyes straight ahead.

"She didn't kill Agatha." I was starting to sound like a broken record-or should that be CD? "I'm afraid the police will stop looking for the person who really did, though."

"Do you think the old man knows something?" Harry asked.

I was surprised by his bluntness, so I chose my words carefully. "I think he might."

Harry glanced over at me. "Like what?"

I told him about the envelope and how his father and Agatha seemed to have had words about whatever was in it. I felt bad about essentially telling on Harry Senior, but I felt worse about Ruby being in custody. "The envelope's missing," I said. "That's way too much of a coincidence for me."

Harry pulled into my driveway and put the truck in park. "You want me to ask Dad? I can't promise you he'll tell me anything."

"Do you think he'd talk to me?" I asked. If Harry Senior understood he might be able to help Ruby, maybe he'd tell me what he'd argued about with Agatha. Maybe it would help. It was worth asking.

"I think he's more likely to talk to you than me. How about coming out tonight after supper?"

I nodded. "All right."

"I'll come get you about seven," he said.

I thanked him, picked up my bag and got out of the truck. As soon as we were in the house I let Hercules out. He shook himself and went for a drink. Owen appeared from somewhere. I gave him two pieces of the cinnamon roll. He sniffed them carefully.

"I'll tell you everything tonight," I said. "Or ask your brother."

Quickly I changed my clothes, fixed my hair and touched up my makeup. I tossed some of the granola bars I'd made and an apple into my briefcase and headed back down to the library, grateful that Mayville Heights was small and the library was downhill.

I was almost at the bottom when I noticed Roma's SUV up ahead at the intersection. I waved my arms to get her attention and half ran, half skidded down the sidewalk. She caught sight of me and waited. Luckily there was no one behind her.

She stuck her head out the driver's window. "Hi, Kathleen. Were you looking for me or just practicing semaph.o.r.e with your bag?"

"Very funny," I said. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Sure," she said. "Get in."

I climbed into the SUV and fastened the seat belt. Roma looked both ways and headed down the street. "What did you want to ask me?"

"Remember when we saw Agatha at Eric's?"

"Yes."

"She was carrying an envelope."

Roma frowned. "Yeah," she said, slowly, "brown. Maybe an old one from the school."

I nodded.

"Is that important?"

"Maybe," I said. "I don't know. It's disappeared and I don't have a clue what was in it. She argued with more than one person about that envelope."

"Maybe the police have it."

I shook my head. "I don't think so."

"You think it could help Ruby?"

"Yeah, I do."

"How can I help?" she asked, as we turned toward the library.

"I need to know more about Agatha," I said. "Maybe it'll help me figure out what was so important to her that she was carrying it around everywhere in that old envelope."

"Any coffee at the library?"

"There can be." I held up the bag. "And I have granola bars."

Roma looked at her watch. "I have about a half hour," she said.

Mary and Abigail arrived as Roma turned into the library parking lot. I made coffee, filling a cup for Roma and one for myself, and leaving the rest for the other women. Roma and I settled in the two chairs facing my desk.

"So, what you want to know?" she asked.

"I don't know exactly."

"You know Agatha was divorced when David was young."

I nodded.

"She was a teacher before she was married, but she hadn't taught in years." Roma reached for one of the granola bars and took a bite. "Oh, those are good," she said, her mouth full of oatmeal and chocolate chips. "She went back to school, got her degree, came back here and eventually became the princ.i.p.al of the junior high. She had no other family, no help. I don't how she did it."

"What was she like as a person?"

Roma considered the question for a minute. "She had high standards for everyone, but no more than for herself. She expected a lot, but she gave a lot, too. I told you that she took that time to go work with underprivileged kids." She set her cup on my desk. "Kathleen, what you looking for? I can tell you Agatha was a good mother and a great teacher, but I don't think that's going to help you."