Pawsibly Murdered Page 6
No. I wasn’t going to cancel dinner. I’d go. Hopefully the change of scenery and the lively conversation would be as good as a rest. Maybe I’d come back feeling refreshed and ready to deal with this new situation.
“I don’t want you girls to worry” was the last thing Aunt Astrid said.
Still, throughout the day, I waffled on whether or not to go. Finally, it got to a point when it was too late to change my mind even if I wanted to.
11
Psychic Vibes
“Aren’t you going to go get changed?” my aunt asked me as I was wiping down the counter. “Didn’t you bring a change of clothes with you?”
“I did,” I said. Just as I was about to say I wasn’t going, Treacle slunk into the room from the kitchen. He wasn’t the only one who could read my thoughts.
“You haven’t been yourself all day,” my aunt whispered.
“I’m worried.” I shrugged. “Innocent people have gone to jail before.”
“You and Bea need to give our fine detectives some credit. They are in the early stages of this investigation. I’m sure I’m not the only one whose story is slightly transparent.”
I didn’t know what else to say.
“Cath, go get ready. You are meeting Tom’s mother.”
“Are you sure?”
“Your cousin is going to have me over for dinner. Jake will need to be soothed because, like you, he’s worried. Except he’s worried about looking like the bad guy.” She tilted her head. “Once I calm the two of them down, we will probably talk about you for the rest of the night until you get home.”
Funny. That was exactly what I’d be doing too. Treacle jumped up on Aunt Astrid’s favorite table for two and proceeded to curl up on all of her receipts.
“Okay,” I mumbled.
I had decided to keep the outfit simple, and I was really glad I had done so. Unlike my cousin, who could get picked up by a twister, swirled around a couple hundred times, and dropped in a muddy field and still look like a fashion model, I had a little more work to do.
When I stepped out of the bathroom after changing into a tan pencil skirt and a flowery red-and-white blouse, I wasn’t feeling any more confident.
“You look so cute!” Bea gushed, running over to me. “Where did you get that blouse?”
“Thrift store,” I said while I smoothed it across my stomach. “It’s not too much? Too bright?”
“No. It’s just perfect for almost summer.”
We had finished decorating the café the same day Tom invited me out. Streamers hung from the ceiling. Not only were there adorable vintage Independence Day statues of Uncle Sam, but each and every branch of the military was also represented, and there were different variations of Old Glory and even red and blue votive candles on the tables.
Now that I was taking a minute to slow down, I looked around and thought the place really looked beautiful. There was no way Tom’s mother wouldn’t like it.
“Now, remember.” Aunt Astrid smoothed my hair back over my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. “Be yourself.”
“And if you can’t be yourself, be Batman,” Bea piped up as she stroked Treacle. “Batman is always cool.”
“That’s helpful.” I smirked.
Before I could go back to the bathroom and give myself one more look-over, I saw Tom walk past the window. The woman with him was not anything like I’d pictured.
After he said she’d just gotten back home from Europe, I expected to see a svelte, cosmopolitan-looking woman in a designer dress, maybe even a hat, with loads of makeup that looked professionally applied, and a long neck like Audrey Hepburn.
Instead, she was a Dolly Parton look-alike with a full figure and red cowboy boots. Her nails were bright red and matched her lipstick.
When she smiled, I saw where Tom had gotten his dimples.
They were chatting pleasantly as they walked in. Let’s just say I expected Bea and my aunt to go over the woman with a fine-tooth comb. What I didn’t expect was the response I got from Treacle.
He sat up on the table and watched Tom intently as he introduced his mother to Bea and Aunt Astrid first.
“And this is Cath,” he said proudly. “Cath, this is my mom. Patience Warner.”
“Hi, Patience.” I reached out my hand to her.
“Cath, it is really nice to finally meet you. Tom has told me so much about you. I feel I know you and your family already.”
“She’s very suspicious,” Treacle said.
“Tom said you just got back from Europe. That had to be nice.”
Patience waved her hand as if her trip was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Who in their right mind would want to discuss spending almost a year traveling, right? Boring.
“She’s sizing you up, Cath,” Treacle said. “She’s sizing you up like Aunt Astrid is sizing her up.”
I looked at my aunt, who had an expression as if she were trying to solve an algebra problem in her head.
“Well, I don’t know about you ladies, but I am starving,” Tom said. “Are you ready to go?”
“I’m hungry,” I said. It was true. I realized just then that I hadn’t had so much as a cupcake all day. There was so much going on that I had literally forgotten to eat. For me to forget to eat was really saying something.
I stroked Treacle, who gave me his warning one more time, hugged my aunt, and gave a high five to Bea, who winked before turning to ring up a customer.
“That’s a quaint little café. How long have you worked there?” Patience asked.
“Forever,” I said proudly. “My aunt owns it. Bea is her daughter. We grew up like sisters.”
She continued to ask a lot of questions. Where I lived. Where were my parents? Where did I go to school? Did I have any siblings other than Bea?
Taking everything Bea and Aunt Astrid had said into consideration, I assumed that Patience was just nervous. This was her way of ensuring there was no awkward silences, no questions drifting off in weird directions.
When we arrived at Tito’s Mexican Bar and Grill, I did my best to try to ask her questions about her, but she didn’t seem too interested in answering anything personal. Once we all sat down and the smell of food hit my stomach, I threw all caution to the wind.
“Tom, did you hear about the suspicious death in town? Niles Freudenfur. He was a con-artist psychic. They found him dead in his house.”
I didn’t know what prompted me to spill my guts the way I did. But by the time I realized what I was talking about, it was too late to take any of it back. I told him how long he had lain dead before his body was discovered, how he had a creepy doll room, and how people weren’t buying his stuff at the estate sale.
“Is that something you’ll be working on, Tom?” his mother asked nervously.
“That’s not in my jurisdiction. If they need additional man power, they’ll call some of us boys in, but most of the time, our departments don’t mix.”
“I can see why my son likes you, Cath.”
The statement caught me off guard.
“You both like the more gruesome aspects of life.”
“I don’t like gruesome things,” I replied. “It’s just something that happened in town. Normally, Wonder Falls is pretty quiet. Boring, even.”
“Mom. Really?”
“I just don’t know where you get it.” Patience smiled, but there was something underneath it. I was sure she didn’t like me. That had to be it. She thought I was a weirdo.
“My mom worries,” Tom said as he patted the older woman’s hand. “She thinks I am up to my eyeballs in cadavers and criminals all day long.”
“Oh, Patience, Wonder Falls is a great place to be a police officer. It is very quiet around here. In fact, Bea’s husband, Jake, is a detective. He’s on the Freudenfur case, and they are narrowing down the suspects.”
There were a slew of words that hung in my throat. Luckily I pulled them down, swallowing hard, and didn’t say a word about Aunt Astrid being sus
pected in Niles’s death. It wasn’t true, so why go spreading rumors as if it might be? Better to laugh about the whole crazy notion once the real culprit was caught. More importantly, I didn’t want to give Patience the idea her son was hanging around some mutant killer family.
But I could tell the damage was already done. Patience gave me that smile-smirk people gave when they didn’t want to be outright rude and scowl at you. I was not the right girl for her son. Part of me, a really tiny part, maybe down by my pinky toe, was feeling the same way.
The funny thing was that I had expected to hear stories about Tom as a kid. Things he said as a little boy or stuff he did at school. Normal things that parents always brought up to embarrass their grown children a little.
My aunt loved to tell the story about me when I was five or six and found a toad. She and my mother had taken Bea and me out to some nature preserve. There were tiny little pockets of water, so of course there were toads.
I strolled up to my mother and aunt and showed them the big, roly-poly thing that sat uncomfortably in my little hands, one of its legs dangling down with its hands tucked underneath it. When I first spied it, it was so dark in color I thought it was just a clump of dirt. Its skin was bumpy and a rich, thick dark brown, almost black color. The thing’s glassy black eyes barely blinked.
“Now, Cath. Be careful. If you kiss that toad, he might become a prince,” my mom said.
“Not this one,” I had to argue back.
“Why not that one? How do you know?” Aunt Astrid asked me very seriously.
“Tried it already. He just stayed a toad.”
That story sent my aunt over the moon every time she repeated it. I really didn’t know what was so funny. But that didn’t matter. It tickled her, so she’d tell it every chance she got.
But Patience didn’t tell stories like that. She talked about her friends in Europe. She mentioned a few things about Tom’s father, but he had passed away. But mostly she spoke about her other two children. Tom had a sister in Kansas who was married to a doctor. He had an older brother who lived in Maine and had married a lawyer.
I had no idea what Tom’s siblings did for a living, but I could see the pattern here. I wasn’t sure what I could have done. The doctor and lawyer slots were already filled. Maybe she would have liked it if Tom were dating a politician or maybe an heiress to some frozen-dessert fortune. But a girl who worked at her aunt’s café wasn’t going to cut it.
I didn’t think the fact that I could communicate with animals would have impressed her much, either.
Patience Warner would probably be very good friends with Dolores Eversol. She wasn’t quite the blowhard Dolores was, but I could see her desire for bragging rights was pretty strong.
I remembered what my aunt said about just being myself. Even if I tried, I couldn’t put on airs. I loved my family and was proud of them no matter what. Even if my aunt had stumbled into a fugue state and made Niles Freudenfur a human mud pie, I would still love her. And Bea, well, what wasn’t there to love about Bea?
So I jumped in feet first, surprising Tom and Patience as well as myself.
“Patience, do you believe in the paranormal?”
Tom blinked. I couldn’t tell by his smirk if he approved or didn’t.
“It’s kind of a hobby of mine,” I continued. “This murder that just happened. The guy was supposed to be a clairvoyant. Do you think a person can have those kinds of powers to see the future?”
“I’m not sure. I suppose anything is possible. But if the man could really see the future, how come he didn’t know someone was coming to kill him?”
“That’s a good point.” I chuckled.
The table was quiet.
“I’ve heard that people who see ghosts in a specific area, that area is often the same place UFOs are sighted. I’ve never been sure what the correlation between the two is, but it’s a fascinating connection.”
“I’ve never seen a ghost or a UFO,” Patience said.
“What about that one time?” Tom interrupted.
“What time?”
“That time you said you were having your fortune told with Kaye and her father was there. Back when you were teenagers.” Tom looked at me. “She said the lady doing their fortunes predicted something that made Kaye start crying.”
“We don’t need to talk about that,” Patience said.
“Come on, Mom. Don’t you think I’m old enough to hear it? I promise I won’t have to sleep with the light on or come in your bed.” Tom turned to me. “I used to do that when I’d watch scary movies as a kid. That was my promise.”
“Honey, would you get the check, please?” his mother asked firmly.
I waited a couple seconds, but it was obvious Patience wasn’t going to share this story of her psychic reading. She looked at her watch and commented on how late it was.
“Would you like to come back to the café for a coffee?” I asked, finally feeling like myself.
“I don’t drink coffee after three o’clock,” Patience said.
“We have wonderful chamomile tea. Bea puts this honey infused with lavender in it. Even I have to admit it tastes good.”
“No, thank you. Not tonight.”
I did my best. I really did try. I didn’t mean to go off on tangents about crime scenes, and I thought my toad story was a big hit. But I couldn’t say I learned anything about Tom that I didn’t already know, and his mom was locked up tighter than a clamshell.
By the time I got home, it was still fairly early.
Tom walked me to the door and told me he’d call me the next day. I got a peck on the cheek and an awkward hug good-bye. For the first time since I met him, I was glad Tom was gone.
“Thank goodness you are safe.” Treacle came from his hiding spot among the shrubs.
“She’s just a peculiar lady. I think she’s harmless.”
“I don’t know. The psychic vibes were so strong my fur was standing on edge. She was up to something.”
“Do you think she was a psychic?”
“Most definitely.”
I scooped Treacle up and went to my aunt’s house. If anyone would give it to me straight, it would be her. I had to know what her impression of Patience was.
12
Bloody Tooth
“Sort of an early evening, isn’t?” Aunt Astrid asked.
Marshmallow was slinking around her ankles then came and gave me an affectionate rub. Peanut Butter was chasing her tail in the hall behind my aunt.
“Yeah. I was myself. I guess that is what did it.” I shrugged.
Treacle leaped from my arms and gave Marshmallow a head butt before they both retreated to the nearest armchair to sleep. Peanut Butter was not through teaching her tail a lesson.
“No, no, honey.” My aunt gave me a big hug as she pulled me into the house. “Bea is here. She’s worried about you—and me.”
“Oh, I’m not in any danger of going to the pokey like you are,” I joked. “I’m just a misfit destined to grow old with my cat.”
“That sounds like heaven,” Treacle said as he yawned then curled up into a ball.
“Yeah it does,” I replied, smiling at him.
“So?” I said as I walked into the living room, which blended into the kitchen.
Bea was standing at the counter with a cup of tea.
“What did you think of Mrs. Patience Warner?” I asked.
“It isn’t up to us to tell you who to like and who not to like,” Bea replied.
“I didn’t like her,” I said. “No. I guess I liked her fine if I had just met her, and she was having coffee at the café. But as Tom’s mom, I don’t think it’s a good fit.”
Retelling the events of the evening made me cringe.
“I really did just try to be myself. Patience didn’t seem impressed.”
Bea looked at my aunt, and I could tell they had something on their minds.
“Okay. Spill it,” I said.
“Patience had the aura of a c
lairvoyant,” Bea said.
“She also had some psychic scars, as she has probably fought to subdue what comes naturally to her,” Aunt Astrid said. “She’s used her gift a couple of times but for the wrong reasons. So now it terrifies her. From what I could see, she has it locked up tight.”
“What do you mean?” I scratched my head. “I brought up the whole paranormal thing to see what she’d say, and she didn’t seem interested at all.”
“Her gift, whatever it is, has something to do with Tom. There was a definite connection between the two of them,” Aunt Astrid said.
“Tom said he has had some visions and gut feelings in the past. He told me that early on when we first started dating,” I said. “If I remember right, he said his family had a little bit of the magic running through it. Not like us, of course. But I took it to sound as if they at least respected it. That doesn’t seem to be the case.”
“Without sitting down with her and getting a real reading, I can’t say what her true feelings are,” Aunt Astrid said.
“Don’t forget, Cath, she was meeting you for the first time too. Tom will always be her son. Some mothers can be very territorial.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think my describing the crime scene at Niles’s house helped my cause any.”
“Was Tom interested?”
“I don’t know. I was rambling. The whole night is a blur I’d rather forget.”
“I think we could all use a distraction.” My aunt walked into the kitchen, pushing Bea out of the way in order to get into a cabinet. She stood up, holding a flashlight. “Who wants to go on an adventure?”
Within minutes, my aunt, the three cats, Bea, and I were piled into Bea’s car and cruising at a whopping twenty-five miles an hour down the road in the direction of Niles’s house.
“Bea, the speed limit is thirty-five. You can do forty,” I urged.
“How would that look? The wife of Detective Jake Johnson gets pulled over for speeding with his mother-in-law, a cousin, and three cats in the car,” she replied, gripping the wheel tighter in defiance. “A fast drive could be your last drive.”