The Girl with the Kitten Tattoo Page 4

  “Mom, don’t you get it?” Sherry threw up her arms. “Loretta’s trying to spoil the most important day of our lives! If she’s this interfering before the wedding, just think what she’ll be like after the wedding.”

  Daisy exchanged glances with Lara.

  “Is she flipping out over the justice of the peace?” Lara asked. “Or over the wedding in general being in the coffee shop?”

  “She’s furious about the JP,” Daisy explained. “Who, by the way, is a lovely woman, and who’s going to perform a beautiful, tasteful ceremony.”

  Lara thought for a moment. “Would Loretta be happier if a pastor performed the ceremony?”

  “Probably,” Sherry said. “But since David and I aren’t really churchgoers, that’s out of the question. I haven’t been to Saint Lucy’s in like, years.”

  “Have you spoken to Pastor Folger?”

  “No. I don’t even know him that well. I’ve met him a few times, but…” She shrugged and let her words trail off.

  Wheels turned in Lara’s head. Would Pastor Folger be willing to perform a ceremony in the coffee shop in tandem with the JP? Did she dare suggest it?

  It killed her to see Sherry going through such angst this close to her wedding day. While Lara agreed that Loretta was being unreasonable, she also knew that David’s mom was going to be a permanent part of their lives.

  Something had to give.

  Daisy left the kitchen carrying three dishes of eggs, pancakes, and bacon. The aroma drifting behind her was delectable.

  “Lara, go and have your coffee,” Sherry said glumly. “I’ll get over this. I have to, right?”

  Lara gave her friend a sideways hug. “Maybe we can work something out. Call me later, okay?”

  Sherry nodded, then, “Wait! What’s happening with that crazy murder? I saw it on the news last night. Isn’t Gideon’s old flame involved?”

  Lara wasn’t sure Megan had exactly been a flame, or to what extent she’d ignited Gideon’s passion. “I don’t know very much at this point, but I’ll keep you informed, okay?” She pushed into the coffee shop through the swinging door before Sherry could ask any more questions.

  By the time she got back to Aunt Fran’s, her nose felt as if it had frozen onto her face. She peeled off her boots, scarf, hat, and gloves, then rubbed her chilled hands.

  “I made a whole pot of tea,” her aunt said. “The old-fashioned way, in a teapot. I figured between the two of us, we could use a whole pot.”

  “You’re a lifesaver,” Lara said. She fetched cups and plates and set them on the table next to a platter of warm cinnamon rolls. “Did you just make these?”

  “I did. I thought we deserved a treat today. They’re from a package, but they’re still delicious.”

  “Oh man, you said it.”

  Tired as Lara was, she was beginning to perk up. Today was not an adoption day, so she hoped to work on some of her art projects in between her cat duties.

  Panda and Munster joined them, each one choosing a lap. Dolce looked stricken when he saw that Panda had plopped onto Aunt Fran’s lap. In the next instant, Panda leaped off and started toward the food bowls. Dolce quickly claimed his rightful place.

  “I miss Kayla,” Lara said, licking frosting off her finger. “When did she say her exams end?” She allowed Munster a tiny taste, and he licked his lips in response.

  “By the end of the week,” Aunt Fran said. “She’s like part of our family, now. I really notice when she’s not around.”

  Kayla Ramirez had come into their lives shortly after Aunt Fran’s home had been transformed into a cat shelter. A vet tech student, she was smart and capable and wonderful with cats. She lived with her grandmother in nearby Tuftonboro, and helped out at the shelter several days a week.

  They were cleaning up the breakfast dishes when the front doorbell rang. “Are you expecting anyone?” Lara asked her aunt. Only strangers went to the front door. Their friends always came in through the kitchen door.

  “No, and it’s awfully early.”

  Lara dried her hands on a towel and went to answer the door. A gasp caught in her throat.

  Standing on the doorstep was Megan Haskell.

  AKA…Gideon’s ex-girlfriend.

  Chapter 7

  “My gosh, you look frozen!” Lara said, ushering her inside.

  “I-I am. The heater in my car is on the blink.”

  Lara took her coat and gloves and set them down near the heat register. What was the woman doing here? Come to think of it, how did she even know where Lara lived?

  “I-I’m sorry to drop in on you like this, Lara, but I really need to talk to you.” Megan tucked her slender hands under her armpits. “After I talked to Gideon the other night, I checked you out online. I read about how you caught killers.”

  Figures, Lara thought. The internet had made privacy a thing of the past.

  “Megan, I didn’t really catch killers. It wasn’t like that.”

  It was also impossible to explain. Especially when a cat no one else could see had helped lead Lara to the murderers.

  “Well, from what I read it sure sounded that way.” Megan tilted her head like a curious puppy. “It’s like, I don’t know, you have this knack for hunting them down. Anyway, that’s why I wanted to talk to you. You probably heard that I’ve gotten myself into, well, kind of a mess.”

  Lara was far from thrilled that Gideon’s ex-girlfriend had tracked her down. Her first instinct was to let Megan warm up for a bit and then send her on her way. The poor woman really did look cold, though—and on the verge of tears.

  Even if it was tempting, Lara couldn’t be heartless. “Megan, can I get you something warm? Tea, or hot chocolate?” With any luck, Megan would refuse.

  “Oh, gosh, a hot chocolate sounds great.”

  Of course it does.

  “I don’t suppose you have any whipped cream?” Megan asked.

  Lara nodded, then went into the kitchen and pulled a hot chocolate mix from the cupboard. She put on the kettle and waited, her mind burning with suspicion. Why was Megan really here? Was she cooking up some sort of scheme to gain Gideon’s sympathy?

  Aunt Fran looked questioningly at her.

  “It’s Megan, Gideon’s old…friend,” Lara said quietly. She stirred boiling water into the cocoa and squirted a mound of cream on it. “Come on in and I’ll introduce you.”

  “I’ll be there in a few. I just want to tidy up the sink.”

  When Lara returned to the large parlor, she nearly stopped short. Megan was sitting on one end of the sofa, Panda nestled on her lap. She was talking to the cat in a quiet, singsong voice. Lara set the mug of cocoa and a napkin on the table next to Megan.

  “Thank you,” Megan said. With one hand she reached for the mug, and the sleeve of her sweater rose a bit. Lara’s heartbeat spiked. Just below Megan’s sleeve, on the inside of her wrist, was a tattoo that appeared to be a black-and-white kitten.

  “Megan, is that a kitten on the inside of your wrist?” Lara asked her.

  Nodding, Megan took a careful sip of her cocoa and then set down the mug. She pulled up her sleeve to display the entire image. “That’s exactly what it is. And you know what’s totally weird? It looks a lot like this cat, doesn’t it?” She smiled and pointed to the feline hunkered in her lap.

  Almost exactly, Lara thought. She peered more closely at the tattoo. The lines were crisp and clean, expertly done. The markings were so much like Panda’s, Lara had trouble believing he hadn’t been the model for the tattoo. “How long have you had it?”

  Megan’s smile faded. She took in a sharp breath. “Since the day I turned eighteen.”

  At that moment, Aunt Fran came into the parlor and greeted Megan. “Hello, I’m Fran Clarkson, Lara’s aunt.”

  “Oh, um…hi, I’m Megan Haskell. I’d get up but—” She s
miled down at the feline taking up prime real estate on her wool slacks.

  The two made small talk for a minute, then Aunt Fran excused herself with “a bundle of errands” awaiting her.

  Megan took another sip of her cocoa, then set down her mug. “Lara, I don’t know how much Gideon told you about my…situation.” She paused.

  “If you mean why you went to see him on Friday, essentially nothing,” Lara said, sitting in the chair opposite the sofa. “I’m sure you know all about client confidentiality. As far as anything else—”

  “Wait a minute,” Megan cut in. “Did Gideon tell you I was a client?”

  Lara realized she’d have to choose her words more carefully. “No, I didn’t mean that. I only meant that he respects any private communication between him and a potential client.”

  Megan hung her head. “Oh. I guess I’d hoped—”

  You’d hoped you could start seeing him again? Lara almost blurted.

  “I know Gideon’s not a criminal lawyer,” Megan said. “But before this…nightmare with my ex-boss, I was hoping he’d help me sue him for wrongful termination. But I guess that’s water over the dam now, isn’t it?”

  “By nightmare, I assume you mean his death?” Lara said quietly.

  “Yes. His murder, actually. At least that’s what the police are saying.”

  Megan said the word in such a casual manner, it made Lara wonder about her mental state.

  “I did a stupid, stupid thing Friday night,” Megan said bitterly. “Gideon warned me not to, but I couldn’t stop myself. Sometimes”—she swallowed—“sometimes my temper gets the better of me.”

  “Megan, before you go any further, you should talk to whoever your lawyer is. There’s nothing I can do to help you.”

  Megan’s face fell. A tear leaked from one blue eye. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have bothered you. It’s just that…well, Gideon spoke so highly of you. He said you were kind and intelligent and creative, and…well, he said you were the best thing that ever happened to him.”

  Lara’s heart rate sped up a notch. Was Megan pulling her chain, or was she genuine?

  “Did Gideon actually say that?”

  Megan nodded. “At his office on Friday. I told him why I was there, all about my case. He said he’d think about it, but that he’d probably refer it out.”

  “I’m sure he had his reasons,” Lara said.

  Why is this happening to me? How did Gideon’s old girlfriend end up here, pouring out her troubles to me?

  A sudden movement from behind the sofa made Lara jump. A cream-colored Ragdoll cat with azure blue eyes landed silently next to Megan, just to the left of her shoulder. Blue inched closer to Megan and then looked over at Lara, her gaze firm and steady.

  Lara rubbed her eyes and then opened them again. Blue was still there.

  What are you trying to tell me? Do you want me to help Megan?

  Lara had never connected telepathically with Blue, but the cat often gave off vibes. On occasion the vibes were negative, meaning that something was amiss. But in the past, whenever Blue had graced Lara with that serene gaze, it meant she was fully at ease, and that Lara could relax. So far, Blue’s instincts had never been wrong.

  “If only I’d listened to Gideon,” Megan said bleakly, “I probably wouldn’t be in this mess. He told me it would be a bad idea to crash Wayne’s party, but I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to embarrass him in front of all his guests. Not just for how he treated me. For how he treated other people, too. Lara, Wayne Chancer was not a nice man.”

  “Again, Megan, I’m so sorry for your troubles. But you need a lawyer, not a watercolor artist. There’s nothing I can do to help you.”

  She smiled at that. “Gideon told me you were an artist. I saw the painting you did for his office. It’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  The watercolor she was referring to was one of Lara’s favorites. The scene showed a young Gideon with his dad, poring over a legal document. She’d painted it from an old photo of Gideon’s, and had presented it to him the Christmas before last. He treasured it as much as she’d hoped he would.

  “You rescue cats too, don’t you?” Megan added.

  “On occasion,” Lara said carefully. “Most of the cats who find their way here are brought in by other people who’ve rescued them.”

  Where was Megan headed with her questions? Lara wondered.

  Megan ran one finger along Panda’s back, and for a long moment was silent.

  Lara felt trapped. Megan had barely touched her cocoa, so she couldn’t throw her out. Not yet, anyway. Blue had already vanished, her spiritual energy expended.

  Tears began to flow down Megan’s cheeks. “I don’t really have anyone else I can ask for help,” she said in a tiny voice. “My aunt and uncle are sweet, but I don’t like burdening them with all this. My folks don’t live close by, plus my dad thinks I cause all my own problems.”

  Lara sagged. “Megan, what kind of help are you looking for? You’ve already retained a lawyer, haven’t you?”

  “I have,” she replied. “What I really need is a friend.”

  * * * *

  The truth struck Lara like a blow to the stomach.

  She wants to be rescued.

  Lara listened quietly while Megan launched into her story.

  “Early last summer, I got laid off from the law firm in Concord I was working for. My living expenses were getting too high anyway, so I asked my aunt and uncle in Bakewell if I could bunk with them for a while. They’re so wonderful—they said they’d love to have me, for as long as I wanted to stay.”

  “They must be kind people.”

  “They are,” Megan confirmed. “I thought I hit the jackpot when I found a job right away. Wayne was a personal injury lawyer, and I’d done some of that at my old firm. But I found out pretty quickly Wayne was super aggressive, you know? He’d sue anyone, for anything.”

  “Did that bother you?” Lara asked.

  She shrugged. “Not at first it didn’t. Most of the people or places he sued deserved it. Besides, it was usually the insurance companies that had to pay, you know?” She frowned and looked away.

  Lara waited. Megan seemed to be struggling.

  “But then this one place”—she twisted her hands over Panda’s sleeping form—“those poor people. I felt so bad for them.”

  Munster came down the stairs just then, his ears perked at the sight of a newcomer. Normally he was the first cat in the household to check out a stranger, but lately he’d been spending more time with Sienna.

  “Oh, isn’t that a pretty cat!” Megan said. She patted the sofa, and Munster accepted the invitation. He padded over to her, then jumped up and leaned his plump form against her arm. Panda gave him the evil eye and snuggled farther into Megan’s lap.

  “I think they’re competing for my attention,” Megan said, grinning. The idea seemed to please her.

  Lara smiled. “You were telling me about some people.”

  Megan instantly sobered. “Yes. The Tanaka family. Such a sweet couple. They owned a small restaurant called the Japanese Garden. One day a guy who was eating lunch there found a bloody Band-Aid in his miso soup. Or claims he did,” she added with a twist of her lips.

  “Yikes.”

  “He created a scene, right there in the restaurant. Even tossed his cookies on the carpet. This happened last summer, right after I started working for Wayne. At first I thought it was an interesting case, but it turned sour for me very quickly.”

  “I assume the man hired your ex-boss to sue the restaurant for him?”

  “Oh, did he ever. Wayne was practically salivating at the chance to sue them. He sent me to interview some of the witnesses—I was actually pretty good at that. I found out one thing, and it was crucial to the case. When this all happened, Mrs. Tanaka did
have a cut on her left pinkie finger. She was honest about it, even admitted that she’d put a Band-Aid on it. But…she also said she wore plastic gloves all the time, so there was no way that Band-Aid could have gotten into the soup.”

  “So, it was one person’s word against the other?”

  Megan nodded. “Pretty much. A private lab did tests on the Band-Aid. Secretly, I was cheering for the Tanakas. Unfortunately, the results weren’t conclusive. The blood sample had been compromised by the soup, among other things.”

  Lara was impressed with how concisely Megan spoke. When it came to her job, she appeared to know her stuff. In other ways, she was childlike.

  “Long story short, the client sued for medical costs, loss of wages, and pain and suffering. The Tanakas agreed to settle, and the client ended up with a pretty decent payout.”

  Of which Wayne Chancer would have snagged one-third, Lara mused.

  “It didn’t make anyone rich, but for Wayne it was a victory. The Tanakas should have gotten their own lawyer,” Megan went on, “but they were very old-fashioned. They felt the system would work in favor of the truth.” She shook her head, and a strand of brunette hair fell forward. “They ended up paying the settlement out of their own pockets. After that, most of the locals stopped eating at the restaurant. Between the loss of business and the humiliation, it was too much for them. They ended up closing shop.”

  What a sad story, Lara thought. If the Tanakas’ fate was an example of how Wayne Chancer operated, he must have made plenty of enemies.

  “Lara, Wayne had it in for those poor people,” Megan said suddenly. “They didn’t stand a chance.” She took a small sip of her hot chocolate, her hand shaking slightly.

  “But why? What did they ever do to him?”

  Her slender jaw hardened. “They, personally, didn’t do anything. It was all about their daughter, Tina. Wayne had a thing for her, if you get my drift. Tina’s about my age, beautiful as all get-out. Classy, quiet, smart. She worked in the restaurant, but she juggles a few other jobs, too. I know she works at a bridal shop in Bakewell. Anyway, Wayne was always ogling her, trying to flirt with her. When she ignored him, he started sending her creepy texts.”