The Girl with the Kitten Tattoo Read online

  Unless someone else wants to adopt Panda in the meantime.

  After Kayla said goodbye to all the cats, she hugged Lara and left. Anytime now Aunt Fran should be getting home from school.

  Lara remembered all those years as a kid when she spent every afternoon after school at her aunt’s. Either homemade blondies or cookies would always be waiting on the table for her, along with a sketch pad and a packet of colored pencils.

  Because Aunt Fran was a teacher, she got home earlier than Lara’s working parents did. The arrangement worked out perfectly—Lara’s dad would pick her up on his way home from work each day, and Lara’s mom would have supper waiting when they got home. Usually. Occasionally her mom would deem that it was “pizza night” and send her husband back out to get two cheesy pies.

  Lara checked the time—it was almost three thirty. There wasn’t enough time to whip up a batch of brownies before Aunt Fran got home, but she could certainly have tea and cookies ready for her.

  Using some of the orange spice tea packets she’d bought from Felicia’s shop, she prepped the teapot and set a kettle of water on the stove. It was a treat to use a real teapot on occasion, instead of just plunking tea bags into mugs. She’d wait until she heard her aunt pulling into the driveway, then turn on the burner.

  Cookies. They still had some of the shortbread cookies she’d bought at the Peach Crate. Lara found the package and arranged several of the buttery delights on a pretty plate. She set out two of Aunt Fran’s favorite mugs, along with spoons and napkins.

  No sooner had she completed the task when she heard the slam of a car door outside. The sound didn’t come from the driveway, though. It came from the shelter’s parking area on the other side of the house.

  Another late visitor, hoping to adopt a cat?

  Lara hurried through the large parlor and into the meet-and-greet room to welcome the newcomer. But when she peered through the door pane, her stomach dropped to her knees.

  A little red Honda was parked outside. Megan Haskell was climbing out of the vehicle.

  Chapter 27

  Fuming that Megan had the nerve to show up unannounced—again—Lara was sorely tempted to wave her away and refuse to allow her in. She stood at the door, arms folded over her chest, prepared to send Megan on her sorry way.

  But as Megan approached the steps, Lara’s resolve crumbled. The young woman looked so scared and frozen that Lara couldn’t turn her away. She swung open the door. “Megan, what are you doing here?”

  Megan shivered on the doorstep, her hands bare, her eyes red and puffy. “C-can I come in? I promise, I’ll only stay a few minutes.”

  With an audible sigh, Lara waved her arm and ushered her inside. “You look frozen,” she said, as if scolding a child. “Where’re your gloves?”

  Megan choked out a tiny sob. “I left them in Wayne’s office when I”—she swallowed—“when I went in there last night. Stupid, right?”

  “Nothing about what you did last night was smart.” Lara waved a hand at a chair. “Sit down for minute. At least get warm.”

  With a forlorn nod, Megan did as Lara instructed.

  Lara cautioned herself against feeling sorry for her. In her opinion, Megan was the designer and editor of all her own problems. She needed to help herself before anyone else could help her.

  “You sent your aunt and uncle here to beg for Panda, didn’t you?” Lara said, a bit more harshly than she’d intended.

  Megan shook her head vehemently, “No. No! They did that on their own, because they care about me.” She sucked in a hard sniffle, and tears slid down her cheeks. “I hate it that I’ve made so much trouble for them. They’re the only ones who ever cared about me. I don’t deserve them.”

  If Megan was acting, she was doing a terrific job of it.

  Lara still didn’t trust her. How could she? By her own admission, Megan had lied before. Lara suspected she’d been manipulating the truth since she was young girl, as a way of surviving her stern upbringing.

  She thought of her own dad, Roy Caphart, the most loving dad anyone could have asked for. He’d rarely scolded; most often he’d praised. He’d been a role model and a wonderful dad—always there to cheer Lara on. Would Megan have developed more self-esteem, more confidence in herself, if her dad had been more like Lara’s?

  “Megan, everyone deserves a family who loves them,” Lara said softly. “The thing is, you’re too smart a woman to do some of the stuff you’ve been doing. Going into Wayne’s office late at night? What were you thinking?”

  Megan swiped at her tears with her fingertips. “I had a good reason for doing that, Lara. That’s why I came here. The police don’t take anything I tell them seriously anymore.”

  Lara felt like ripping out her hair in frustration. “But, Megan, you have an attorney, right? He’s the one you should be talking to. I can’t help you.”

  “I did talk to him. And he talked to the police. But they still aren’t getting it.”

  The faint sound of a car door slamming drifted from the other side of the house. “Megan, stay here for a minute, okay? My aunt just got home. I want to let her know I’m in here.”

  “Sure,” Megan said meekly.

  Lara went into the kitchen and greeted her aunt. “Hey, how was your day?”

  Aunt Fran beamed. She peeled off her coat, scarf, and gloves and set them over a chair. “Fabulous. I really do miss teaching. I’m thinking seriously of going back full-time next year, if there’s an opening.”

  “I want to hear all about it, but right now”—she tilted her head toward the other side of the house—“I’ve got Megan Haskell in the meet-and-greet room.”

  Her aunt frowned. “Again? Oh, Lara. Did you know she was coming?”

  “No, but it’s a long story. I’ll tell you everything later.”

  Aunt Fran glanced at the kitchen table. “What’s all this?”

  “Well, I was going to have tea and cookies ready for you when you get home, but—”

  “I know. The best-laid plans.” Aunt Fran smiled. “That’s okay. We’ll have tea and cookies after your visitor leaves.”

  Lara headed back to the meet-and-greet room. She was only half surprised to find Panda curled up in Megan’s lap, purring up a thunderstorm.

  “He came in on his own,” Megan said defensively. She curved one slender hand protectively over the cat, as if she expected Lara to snatch him away from her.

  “That’s fine. I’m not worried about Panda.” The little cat really did love cozying up to Megan.

  Megan reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small notepad. “I know you want me to leave, Lara, so I’ll tell you this quickly. About like, two weeks before Wayne fired me, he got a phone call late in the afternoon. I took the call, but the caller wouldn’t identify himself. He said he wanted to speak to Wayne, that he was an old friend and wanted to surprise him.” She paused, as if waiting to see if Lara wanted to hear more.

  “Okay. Then what?”

  “The door to Wayne’s office was open, so I popped my head in. I told him there was a man on the phone for him, but that he wouldn’t give his name.” She paused again. “Wayne took the call, but after a few seconds his face got real gray, like, the color of his cigar ash. I’d never seen him look like that before, so I knew it was bad. I kind of just stood there, unsure what to do.” Her face flushed. “I was still, you know, kind of infatuated with him, and I thought he might need help.”

  “Did Wayne say anything?” Lara asked her.

  “Not right away, but then I heard him mumble the word overdose—just that one word. At that point he must’ve noticed I was still standing there, because he barked at me to get out and shut the door.”

  Lara waited.

  “So, I did, and when I went back to my desk, I saw that the line was still lit up. They talked for about another three minutes. I know,
because I timed it. I should have thought right then and there to make a note of the phone number, but I didn’t. The only thing I noticed was that it was an out-of-state area code.”

  “Megan, by any chance, did you pick up the extension and listen to any of the conversation?”

  She gave Lara an odd smile. “No, but I can’t say I wasn’t tempted. The thing is, I knew if I got caught that it would’ve been the end of me, job-wise. I couldn’t risk it.”

  Lara sighed. “Okay. Tell me the rest.”

  “After the call ended,” Megan went on, “Wayne stayed in his office for a long time. When he finally came out it was after five. I was packing up my things to leave for the day. He asked why I was still there, and I told him I was worried about him. Then I made the mistake of asking who his mysterious caller was. He told me it was none of my freakin’ business, only he used a slightly different word.” Her lips pursed.

  Nice way to talk to his employee, Lara thought.

  “After that he stormed out, leaving me alone to close up the office. But before I left, I went into his office. His yellow legal pad was on his desk, so I looked at it. He’d written only one thing—the letters ‘O.D.’ in big letters at the top. O period, D period.”

  “O-D. Overdose,” Lara said.

  She nodded. “I locked up the office and left right after that. It was only a few weeks later when he fired me.” Megan’s face crumpled.

  “Megan, can I ask you a question?” Lara said quietly. “Why did you wait until now to reveal this? Your ex-boss died a week ago, and now suddenly you’re remembering a weird phone call from an unidentified man? The timing doesn’t add up.”

  Megan blushed and looked down at the cat curled contentedly in her lap. Was she stalling? Trying to concoct a fib she hoped Lara would swallow?

  “I figured you’d say that,” she murmured after a long pause. “That’s why I decided to go to Wayne’s office last night. I wanted to look at the caller ID on the phone to see if the number might still be there.”

  “Was it?”

  Megan shook her head. “No, the caller ID didn’t store numbers that far back. But that’s when I stupidly, stupidly remembered something else. The morning after Wayne got that call, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Wayne was still acting strange, biting my head off at the drop of a hat. By lunchtime, I couldn’t stand it anymore. That’s when I remembered the caller ID. I checked the phone, found the number, and wrote it down on one of my business cards. I shoved the card under my file folders in the bottom drawer of my desk.”

  Megan’s story was getting stranger, and more convoluted. Lara wasn’t sure she believed a word of it. It almost seemed as if she was making it up as she went along.

  “Lara, last night…I found the card,” Megan said. “It was right where I’d left it. Wayne hadn’t even bothered to clean out my files after he fired me.”

  “So, you have it, then?” Lara said, her curiosity ignited.

  “No. I shoved it in my jacket pocket so I could take it to the police. But—first I wrote down the number.” Her eyes alight now, Megan pushed her notepad over to Lara.

  Lara looked down and stared at the number. “The area code is four-oh-one. That’s Rhode Island, isn’t it?”

  “I think so,” Megan said.

  “Did Wayne ever mention knowing anyone in Rhode Island?”

  “Not that I recall.”

  Lara rested her elbows on the table. She felt as if she were playing a losing game of Twenty Questions. “How did the police happen to catch you last night?”

  “That,” Megan said sharply, “was unfortunate. Someone spotted my flashlight beam bouncing around in Wayne’s office and called the cops.”

  “Can you blame them?”

  Megan shook her head, and her eyes drooped. “No, I suppose not. The cops scared me half to death when they charged into the office. My God, one of them had his gun drawn. I told them the truth, about why I was there. I wasn’t sure if they believed me, but I gave them the business card with the phone number on it. Thank God I’d written it down first. They took me to the station and booked me. Luckily, after they heard my whole story, they called my aunt and uncle and allowed me to go home with them.”

  Something else occurred to Lara. “After you got home, I don’t suppose you thought to Google the phone number?”

  Megan quirked an odd little smile at her. “No, but I did even better. I called the number.”

  “What? Megan, what if the caller was the guy who poisoned Wayne? You could have been putting yourself in danger!”

  Megan reached over and lightly touched Lara’s arm. “Please don’t worry. No one answered the phone. I got some generic voice-mail message. Whoever the caller was, he hadn’t bothered to set up a personal greeting.”

  “But your number will show up on his caller ID!”

  “So what? He can’t find me with a phone number, can he?”

  In truth, Lara wasn’t sure. Probably not, but who knew? If the caller was someone sleazy or underhanded, he might have ways to find out.

  “Please, Megan, please stop doing all this stuff on your own. Let the police, and your attorney, handle it. They’re the professionals.”

  Megan lifted her chin and met Lara’s gaze head-on. “But you’ve caught murderers, Lara. Don’t deny it, you have. I Googled you, and I know all about you.” Her voice was so childlike that it squeezed Lara’s heart.

  From the other side of the house, another car door slammed. Was Aunt Fran leaving? Or had someone else stopped by? Lara’s heart thumped at the thought that it might be Gideon.

  An idea struck her. She picked up Megan’s notepad and tore off a sheet. She went over to the display of the shelter’s successful adoptions and grabbed the pencil balanced on top of it. When she sat down, she wrote five words on the paper: I know who you are. She showed the paper to Megan.

  Megan stared at it for a moment, then shot Lara a look of confusion mixed with anger. “What are you talking about? You know who I am—I’m Megan Haskell. Are you implying I’m someone else?”

  “Never mind,” Lara said, feeling hugely relieved. She was certain that if Megan had written the note found next to Chancer’s body, or knew who had, she’d have reacted differently.

  “I think you just want me to leave,” Megan said, her voice trembling, a hurt expression in her blue eyes. “Which is exactly what I’m going to do. And don’t worry, I won’t darken your door ever again. This time I mean it.” She gently lifted the black-and-white cat snoozing in her lap, kissed his head, and set him on the floor.

  “Megan—”

  “One more thing. I didn’t come here to beg for Panda. I know I’m not ready to adopt a cat yet. But when I am, I’ll go to a regular shelter.”

  She stalked out, leaving her notepad on the table.

  Chapter 28

  Still reeling from Megan’s reaction, Lara scooped up the notepad and slipped it into her jeans pocket. Voices drifted from the kitchen. Feminine voices, to Lara’s disappointment. She stopped short when she saw who was sitting at the kitchen table chatting with Aunt Fran.

  “Sherry! I didn’t know you were coming over.”

  Her friend rose from her chair and hugged her. Sherry’s eyes glowed, and her skin gleamed with a rosy hue. The look of a happy bride-to-be, Lara decided.

  “Well, you didn’t stop into the coffee shop this morning, so I had to hunt you down.” She plopped her hands on her hips.

  Lara swatted her arm playfully. “I know,” she said, a wave of guilt swishing over her. “I just have so much going on right now. I needed a break. Don’t worry. It’s only for a day. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  Sherry’s eyes narrowed, and she studied her friend. “Can we talk? Privately?”

  “Um, sure!” Her voice rose on a higher pitch than she intended.

  Aunt Fran, picking up on the cue, jump
ed in and said, “Lara, I’m heading upstairs to check on Twinkles. You gals stay here and gab to your heart’s content.” She squeezed Sherry’s arm and trotted out of the kitchen.

  “Did Aunt Fran make the tea—” Lara started to say, but Sherry interrupted.

  “I don’t want tea and I don’t want cookies, Lara. I want to talk to you.”

  Lara felt her pulse spike. Something was up.

  “Okaaay. Sit. Let’s talk.”

  Sherry took her seat again. “Marina came into the coffee shop at lunchtime today to pick up a tuna sandwich for Gideon.”

  “She’s a great assistant,” Lara said. “Gideon always says he doesn’t know how he ever got along without her.”

  “Don’t change the subject,” Sherry said, her expression somber. “This isn’t about Marina. It’s about you. And Gideon. I want to know what’s going on, Lara. Have you two split up and you’re not telling me because you think it’ll spoil my wedding?”

  Lara swallowed. “I—no, we haven’t.” Have we? “Why would you ask that?”

  “Because Marina said Gideon hasn’t been himself for days. He’s distracted. He forgets to return calls. He showed up fifteen minutes late for a closing yesterday and threw the seller into a tizzy. The seller needed the proceeds for the house they were buying the same day.”

  Oh Lord. That wasn’t like Gideon at all.

  Lara folded her hands on the table, avoiding Sherry’s gaze. “I don’t know what to tell you, Sher. Gideon’s really upset with me because I’ve gone to Bakewell twice. He thinks I’m trying to help Megan, but that’s not why I went there.”

  “Then what is it? Why are you doing this?” Sherry asked quietly.

  Inwardly, Lara groaned. There was no way to explain what was going on in her head. And it definitely wasn’t the right time to tell Sherry about Blue.

  “Sher, I’m going to explain it as best I can, but I don’t think it’s going to make any sense to you. For some reason I feel drawn there, but I don’t know why. I’ve met people there—I told you about Tina.”