Catnip (Dunbarton Mysteries Book 1) (8 page)

He dumped the metal-framed
contraption on the ground between the tree trunk and the hedge muttering, “There’s
no way you’re getting out of this. Humane trap, they called it. Don’t care how
humane
it is, just how well it works.”

He pulled some cedar branches
from the hedge and covered the top of the trap.

“There! Nobody’ll notice it now.
As for the bait, I think canned salmon’ll do the trick. Never knew a cat that
didn’t love salmon.”

He emptied the contents of the
tin onto the floor of the trap and stood back to admire his handiwork.

“Perfeck! Now all I have to do is
stand back and wait.”

He didn’t have to wait long. A rustling
in the hedge announced the arrival of his quarry.

There was a muffled snap as the
trap fulfilled its promise.

“Yes!” he crowed.  “Thought you
were so smart, didn’t ya …?”

A light from the open door of the
neighboring house illuminated the night. “Horatio, where are you, Horatio?”

There was a muffled whine from
the trap in reply and the victory cry died in his throat.

“Horatio ... Horatio?”

“No officer, no-one here has set
any traps.” James motioned for Chris to take a seat by the library fireplace. “I
have no idea how it got there.” He rolled his eyes expressively at Chris’
silent question. “There have been a lot of problems with raccoons lately.
Perhaps one of the neighbors put it there.”

Alicia’s birthday fell on the
fifteenth of August and Chris had invited the family to be his guests for
dinner at a very elegant inn a few miles up the lake.  Most of the painting and
papering was complete and Alice had planned her party for the first Saturday in
September.

“I understand that she is upset
at finding her dog in a trap but I assure you that no one here has set any
traps for any reason. Yes, I know you had to check it out. I hope you find who
did this. You’re welcome. Good-bye, officer.” James replaced the phone and
threw himself onto the couch.

“Evening, Chris, we’re almost
ready. Just waiting for the birthday girl.” 

“What was that all about?”

“Mrs. Short’s terrier was caught
in a trap last evening and she’s accusing us of having set it.”

“Do you need me to handle this?”

“No, the police don’t seem to
believe we’re involved but I’ll let you know if there is any trouble from it.
Thankfully, Mrs. Short is considered to be somewhat eccentric.”

“Well, you know you can always
call me if you need to.”

James nodded gratefully. “You
know, Alice and I are so pleased you and Alicia are seeing each other. We don’t
know anyone we’d rather she became involved with. You’ve been good for her,
brought her out of herself. She’s becoming the girl she used to be.”

“I’m happy you feel that way.  I
care for Alicia very much and I was hoping to have your approval.”

“Well, you’ve got it, and
anything we can do to help, you just have to ask.” James took his hand and
shook it vigorously and they were both absurdly pleased with themselves.

“You two certainly look like a
couple of cats who got the canary.” Alice walked through the door looking very
regal in a pale gold gown.  “Alicia will be right down, Chris, and then we can
leave.  This is very nice of you. The house is in no fit state for a
celebration just now. The workmen are finished everywhere but the kitchen and
they’ve promised to be out by Wednesday. The new furniture and draperies are
going to be delivered next week, and so next Sunday I want you to come to
dinner again and you’ll be able to see the finished product.”

“I’d love to, and I can’t wait to
see what you’ve done.  I’m glad those workmen will be gone soon. They’ve given
us all a bad few weeks. No more problems with the press, I hope ...”

“No, everything’s died down,
thank goodness,” James assured him, pulling up a chair for Alice. “But, Chris,
there’s something else. I haven’t wanted to bother you with it but it’s
beginning to get out of hand!” A red wave of color was rising up his neck and
cheeks.

“James, for heaven’s sake, it’s
disgusting. Please don’t mention it.”  Alice looked embarrassed and more than a
little annoyed.

“If something’s troubling you,
please don’t hesitate to bring it up.  That’s what I’m here for.”

James laughed a little
sheepishly. “You see, it started after the papers got hold of the story about
Marmalade’s inheritance. They started phoning, and writing, and now they’re
even coming to the house.”

“Who’s coming to the house?”
Chris asked blankly.

“Cat owners!”

Chris ran distracted fingers
through his hair, more mystified than ever. “Why ...?”

“Female cat owners!” As if that
explained everything.

“Why would lady cat owners ...?”

“No, not lady cat owners, owners
of lady cats. They want Marmalade to ... you know ... with their cats!”

It took a moment to register,
then his jaw dropped and they stared at each other mutely before both of them
collapsed, laughing.  They laughed until they cried. Amazed, Alice watched them
for a few moments, then shook her head and with a disgusted snort, left them to
it.

It was some time before either of
them could say a word. They lay slumped in their chairs, totally drained. 
James was wiping his eyes, still chuckling.

“I’m afraid, James, this is
something you’re going to have to handle yourselves. What have you been telling
these erstwhile matchmakers, anyway?”

He started laughing again. “I’ve
been telling them he handles his own affairs.”

Chris hooted with laughter.  “How
do they react?”

“They usually hum and ha a
little.  Some flounce off in a huff. Lately, though, they’ve really begun to
get on our nerves.”

“They probably hope to get
something from the estate. I gather he’s never been neutered.”

James grimaced and shook his
head. “Well, that is something I suppose we should have done ASAP. But, until
then, next time someone calls, tell them that there’s no provision in the will
for any offspring Marmalade might produce and there’s no possibility of filing
for child - or should I say kitten? - support. That should take care of them. 
If it doesn’t, put them in touch with me and I’ll deal with them.”

Alicia walked in just then and
the sight of her in a filmy, apricot dress that seemed to float around her as
she moved drove all other thoughts from his mind.  “Will I do?” Her voice
trembled with amusement.

 He walked around her slowly,
hands on his hips, as if sizing her up. “I suppose you’ll have to. There isn’t
time to change.”

She laughed as he took her hands
and pulled her gently towards him. Momentarily forgetting where they were, he
was taking her into his arms when a discreet cough brought him to his senses
and he released her.

They turned to see James grinning
broadly. “Don’t be embarrassed, Chris. I can remember reacting the same way
when I took Alice to our prom. She came down the stairs at her house wearing
this long, blue gown and ...”

“Imagine your remembering that!”
Alice said from the doorway.  She walked forward and took her husband’s arm
affectionately.

“How could I ever forget, my
dear?” James gazed down at her, his eyes warm.   “You were the loveliest thing
I’d ever seen.”

Alicia watched them, thrilled and
grateful to see her parents finally so happy. They deserved it after all the
bitter, conflict-filled years, and she said a silent prayer that nothing would
ever happen to spoil it.

The fish stank! He doubted he’d
ever get the smell off his hands.

Cats love fish
, he
reminded himself.
He won’t be able to resist it and while he’s chowing down,
SNAP, he’s in the bag.

He was pleased with his plan. It
couldn’t fail. He was sick and tired of spending his nights hiding in the
bushes. Besides, sooner or later the old lady next door was going to see him.
She was always watching the house. What was her problem, anyway?

Speak of the devil.
He
drew further back into the bushes as her door opened.

“Out you go, Horatio. Do your
little duty and come right back.”

Damn! Not the dog again!

Like iron filings to a magnet,
the terrier was heading straight for the bushes when he smelled the fish. In a
flash he had it in his mouth and was heading for home.

“Give me back my fish!” he said
in a furious whisper, but the dog was already flying up the steps to his front
door where the old lady was waiting for him.

“Horatio, you stink! What have
you got in your mouth? Where did you get that fish? You’re not bringing that
smelly thing into the house. No, Horatio, not on the rug!”

The memory of that evening filled
his mind for the rest of the week.  Chris found himself humming tunes from the
piano bar and several times his secretary caught him sitting back, staring into
space, a soppy grin on his face. Every day he found some excuse or other to
call Alicia, just to hear her voice. Because he was working late every evening
to catch up on a backlog of cases and he had a business meeting Saturday, he
had to wait until Sunday to see her again, and the week seemed endless.

Chris was whistling as he mounted
the steps of the front porch and rang the bell, carrying the small housewarming
gift he’d bought in honor of the renovations. There wasn’t much choice in a
town the size of Dunbarton and his week had been too busy to go anywhere else,
but the clerk in the local gift shop had been most helpful and he thought Alice
would be pleased with the Royal Doulton ‘Alice’ figurine she’d suggested.

He was pressing the bell for the
second time when Mrs. Stuart came running around the porch from the back. “Oh,
Mr. Mallory, I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but Alice made me promise not to
let you see inside until she was ready. She’ll be here in just a wee minute.
You’re a bit earlier than usual,” she added accusingly.

Before he could reply, the front
door opened and Alice greeted him. “Hello, Chris. I’m so sorry to have kept you
waiting out on the porch but I wasn’t ready and I didn’t want anyone else to
show you around.”

“That’s perfectly all right. I’ve
been looking forward to seeing what you’ve done. Where’s ...?” he peered past
her into the hall.

“Alicia’s helping Mrs. Stuart in
the kitchen. She’ll be right out.”

“I’ve brought you a little
housewarming gift. I hope you like it.”

“How sweet of you!” Much to his
surprise, she kissed him lightly on the cheek. “You really shouldn’t have, you
know.”

“Nonsense!  I just hope it goes
with your new decor.”

“You can judge for yourself. Here’s
James now, so come right in.”

She opened the door wide and they
entered.

The change was remarkable. The
walls above the three foot high cherry wainscoting were a pale gold, with ivory
touches on fixtures and molding. Hanging from the second floor ceiling, a glittering
crystal chandelier filled the reception hall with light. A gallery of family
portraits ran up the wall by the staircase, among them the oil of George Dunbar
that had hung over the library fireplace.  A long side table over-hung with
mirror, corner desk and a Louis XVIth chair fitted snugly against the walls.

“It’s magnificent!  You’ve
absolutely transformed this place,” he exclaimed.

“But this is only the beginning.
You haven’t really seen anything yet.” Flushed with pride and exhilaration,
Alice took James’ arm and gave it a gleeful squeeze. “I thought we’d show you
James’ den next. There wasn’t too much to be done in there but I think it looks
a little brighter.”

 The cream-colored drapes had
been replaced by red and green plaid.

“It’s the Dunbar tartan,” she
explained. “The local Scottish Shop ordered the fabric for us.”

The brown leather chairs and the
rugs were unchanged, but  cushions in the same fabric as the drapes graced the
sofa that faced the fireplace over which now hung a family portrait of Alice,
James and Alicia, done when Alicia was, Chris judged, about 10 years old.

The original came in just then
and stood beside him. “How do you like it, Chris?” The sound of her voice sent
a thrill of pleasure through him.

“It’s wonderful! You’ve done an
amazing job. Are you going to show me the rest of the house?” 

“Absolutely. Where to next, mom?”

“The kitchen, I think, dear.  We’ll
leave the parlor and dining room until the end.”

The kitchen was the last word in
up-to-date, and Mrs. Stuart was taking a child-like pleasure in her new toys.
It was a bright, cheery room now in yellow and white, taking advantage of the
large, sunny windows. The old tile flooring had been ripped up and they’d
discovered light pine, plank wood flooring underneath. This had been sanded and
refinished and gleamed in the afternoon light. The fridge and stove were
stainless steel. There was a second oven and a micro-wave in the wall. A
granite-topped center island gave extra counter and cupboard space and there
was still room for a table and chairs for informal family meals.

Marmalade was quite content with
his new toy as well and had spent most of the afternoon going in and out of his
own personal cat-door that had been cut into the kitchen door. 

Extra cupboards had been built in
the butler’s pantry that led from the kitchen into the dining room and a new
counter had been outfitted with a burner base to keep food hot while waiting to
be served.

When the last of the new kitchen
gadgets had been proudly displayed, Alice led the way through the hall and
foyer to the living room where she dramatically flung open the doors.

She was justifiably proud. The
room was beautiful. Casually elegant, it retained the warmth and hospitality of
a home. The walls were ivory but here there were splashes of rose and green.
The elaborate plaster moldings in the ceiling also showed touches of color. The
new sofas and the drapes were in a chintz, with an ivory background and a
floral pattern in pale rose and  green with touches of gold. The chairs were
upholstered in rose velvet. They had retained the original tables and some of
the chairs, and the lovely Persian carpets.  The clutter of bric à brac,
antimacassars and urns full of dried foliage were gone, and for the first time
he was able to appreciate the true dimensions of the room. 

Alice watched his reaction with
relish and then, without a word, went and opened the doors to the dining room.
There the rose tones were predominant, carried through in a gleaming satin
wallpaper with the same chintz drapes that were in the parlor. A large mirror
over the sideboard reflected the mahogany table, set with silver and fine
china.  It was a dramatic room and contrasted with the cool tones of the
parlor.

Chris
looked
around in appreciation. “It’s fantastic!”

Alice took a relieved breath. “I’m
so glad you’re pleased. I was worried about the expense.”

“Don’t be. You’ve made this
house, Dunbar House, a showplace. That’s what it should have been all along.”

James hugged his wife proudly. “She’s
done a marvelous job, hasn’t she?”

“Incredible. You are going to set
this town on its ear the night of your party. What have you planned?”

“Come and sit down in the parlor
and I’ll tell you. Mrs. Stuart, would you please bring us some refreshments?”

“Of course, dearie. Don’t you
worry your pretty head about anything. Just you go and enjoy yourself.”

It was to be a Music Night, the
first Saturday in September. There were more than sixty people invited. Alice
and Mrs. Stuart had decided on a hot and cold buffet, and the latter would
begin cooking a week in advance.

The cream of local society was
invited, which meant mainly the old families, and the Dunbarton Music Society
had arranged for a number of guest soloists. Alicia, he was surprised to learn,
was to be the pianist.

“Oh yes, she’s quite a good one.”
James patted his daughter’s hand fondly. “Mother insisted she have lessons and
the teacher told us she was quite talented.”

The pianist laughed ruefully. “Well
I, for one, am not looking forward to the entertainment.  I’ve heard some of
those old cats ...”

“Alicia!”  Alice broke in,
shocked.

“Excuse me,” Alicia corrected
herself
in mock horror. “Those ladies.  I’ve heard some of
them sing before. Let’s just hope they choose short selections or, better
still, come down with laryngitis.” Curled up in the curve of Chris’ arm, she
smiled cheekily. “Actually, I wanted to play the bagpipes but Mother said it
wasn’t suitable for the occasion,” she continued. 

He thought she was joking. “The
bagpipes!” he said laughing. “I can just see you, swathed in the Dunbar tartan,
standing before a dramatic night sky, your hair billowing out behind you in the
wind, blowing for all your worth into the pipes.”

“Don’t laugh,” she said
reproachfully, “I did.
U
ntil I went away to school I
was a member of the Dunbarton Pipe Band.”

He shook his head. “You never
cease to amaze m
e.
Why the bagpipes, of all things?”

“It’s the thing to do here. Kids
learn to play the chanter first
- t
hat’s the part you
blow into with the finger holes. When you’ve mastered that, you add the bag.
That’s the hard part. It’s really exhausting.”

“I can imagine,” he said, looking
at her in wonder. “You’ll have to play for me sometime.”

As the words were coming out of
his mouth he saw frantic, wide-eyed head-shaking from James and Alice, but
Alicia jumped up happily and said, “I’ll get them right now,”
and
ran upstairs to fetch them.

Two pairs of reproachful eyes met
his. “Well, now you’ve done it!” the proud parents hissed.