Kent Conwell - Tony Boudreaux 14 - Murder in a Casbah of Cats (6 page)

And now, I had a golf-ball-sized knot to remind me.

In the kitchen, I rummaged through the cabinets for pain pills, Anacin, Excedrin, anything to ease the throbbing. I found a packet of BC Powder and took a couple, then trekked up two flights of stairs to my room, where I fell into bed and promptly passed out.

It was ten o’clock when I awoke. My head still throbbed. I stumbled into the bathroom and studied myself in the mirror. The
blow had split the skin and my face and shirt were streaked with rivulets of dried blood.

After cleaning up, I made my way down to the kitchen, anxious for a cup of steaming black coffee.

Edna was at the sink and Karla sitting at the table when I pushed through the door. Karla’s eyes grew wide when she spotted the knot on my head. With a sneer in her voice, she said, “What happened to you? Fall out of bed?”

Edna glanced around and gasped. “My goodness. What on earth hap—”

Ignoring Karla’s wisecrack, I interrupted Edna. “You got any Band-Aids and pain pills, something stronger than BCs?”

Scurrying across the room to me, she took my arm and pushed me down in a chair. She wore a crisp white blouse and jeans. “You sit. I’ll get some coffee and then something to put on that.” When she turned away from me, I did a double take when I spotted the horseshoes on her back pockets. True Religion jeans, designer jeans that rang up at two hundred and forty plus at the cash register. I knew because that’s what Janice, my significant other, wore.

As Edna busied herself pouring coffee, she asked, “What on earth happened?” She set the coffee in front me. “I’ve got some naproxen. Doctor gave them to me for my gout.” She fumbled in her purse and then handed me a small white pill shaped like a cylinder. “Here. I’ll get you something to eat.”

I shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”

Putting some bread in the toaster and cracking two eggs in the skillet, she replied, “Those pills are strong. Five hundred milli-grams. They could nauseate an empty stomach.” She dug through the cabinets for anesthetic and bandages.

Karla took a bite of her toast. “You never did say what happened.”

Shooting her a wicked look, I said, “You should know.”

Her forehead wrinkled in a frown. “What do you mean by that? Why should I know?” She acted as if I had insulted her.

My head hurt, and my patience had run out. “I saw you and your boyfriend out there last night. I—” Edna looked around at Karla in surprise.

The young woman’s eyes grew wide. She interrupted me. “You what? That’s crazy. I was in my room. Besides, Kevin’s been out of town for a week. He’s not due back until tomorrow.”

Edna laid her hand on my head and gently pushed it back. “Now, just you be still while I doctor and bandage this, you hear?”

It was awkward talking to Karla with my head back and my eyes staring at the ceiling. “If it wasn’t you, who was it? Whoever it was, they were arguing.”

“How should I know?” she demanded. “All I know is it wasn’t me. And I don’t like being accused of something I didn’t do, especially by hired help. You apologize.”

Holding on to my temper, I gently pushed Edna’s hands aside and stared at Karla. “Look, lady. I saw something out there. I don’t know who it was, but I’m not apologizing to you and anyone else. You might be a spoiled brat, but next time you come on to me with that attitude, I’ll turn you over my knee and wale the daylights out of you.”

Aghast at my words, her face paled.

Beside me, I heard Edna chuckle.

Karla stammered for words. “You—You can’t…I mean…”

I glared at her. “You better be careful what you say. My head is killing me, and I’ll probably end up with two black eyes. Paddling your derriere would probably make me feel a heck of a lot better.”

She clamped her mouth shut, pushed back from the table, and stared at me with a look that could kill. “Well! I never…”

I pushed back from the table, and she scurried from the kitchen.

Edna roared. “Good for you, Tony. It’s about time someone told her off. Now lean back and let me bandage that head while you tell me what happened.”

“That was it. I spotted someone on the grounds from the balcony and went down to see who it was.” I filled in the rest of the details and added, “They were arguing. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their voices were loud enough. I’m surprised you didn’t hear them.”

She shook her head. “My room is behind the kitchen. Henry’s and Gadrate’s are on the second floor, the back side of the house. With the air-conditioning on, we couldn’t hear a bomb.”

“I see. Tell me. You believe what Karla said, that it wasn’t her?”

She gave the bandage one last pat and stepped back. She knit her brow. “Normally, I’d say no. The woman lies. You can’t trust her. But maybe this time, she’s telling the truth. That worthless boyfriend of hers, Kevin Stotts, he’s been out of town for the last few days. She’s always slipping him into her bedroom. Drives Skylar crazy.”

“Why does she put up with it?”

Edna shrugged. “The girls’ mama was Skylar’s older sister. When she and her husband got killed in a car wreck, Skylar took the girls in. She spoils them something terrible.”

After a light breakfast, if such is possible with Edna, I went to my room and sprawled across the bed, waiting for the naproxen to kick in. As I lay staring at the ceiling, I thought back over the last less than thirty-six hours. The mansion housed twenty cats
of every imaginable breed; the owner saw ghosts on the grounds; killers vanished from the library; a spoiled young lady shamelessly brought her boyfriend in at night; and the maid would snap your head off if you tried to be a good Joe and offer her a hand. Oh yeah, and there was a hairless butler.

What a circus!

I closed my eyes and tried to relax, grateful my only job was to be here for the cats.

My eyes popped open about noon. I lay motionless, waiting for the throbbing pain to return. To my delight, the naproxen had worked. Oh, the throbbing was still there, but the intensity had diminished considerably. At least my toes didn’t curl with each spasm.

As I stepped into the hall, I glanced up and did a double take. Hercules was crouched on the top of the armoire next to my door. I hoped he hadn’t decided to stalk me.

Henry was in the kitchen when I entered, decked out today in a blue T-shirt with a new declaration, “See, I Told You So.”

Remembering the previous day’s T-shirt, I arched an eyebrow, noting the ironic reflection of the previous night’s incident. His eyes went to the knot on my head. A faint grin ticked up one side of his lips. “Hear you had a run-in with one of our live oaks.”

With a rueful smirk, I replied, “It was stronger than me.” I fished a cup from the cabinet and poured some coffee. I sipped it and sighed. “Tastes good.” I sat across the table from Henry. “How are things going today?” The question was perfunctory.

He shrugged. “Nothing any different. Edna said you saw someone on the grounds last night.”

“Two someones.”

“Happens a lot,” he said, taking another bite of his sandwich. “Like I mentioned yesterday about Skylar’s ‘ghosts.’ People from outside are curious and wander through the gate. Most mean no harm.”

“At night?”

“No.” He shook his head. “At night, they’re usually up to no good.”

“Why don’t you close the gate?”

“You’ll have to ask Skylar. I wanted to, but she refused.” He paused and added. “And she pays my salary.”

“I know what you mean.” My gaze slid from his slender face down to his T-shirt. “You’re a big fan of Murphy’s Law, huh?”

“Some.” He paused. “There’s a lot of truth in it.” He pointed to my forehead. “You learned that the hard way.”

“I can’t argue that, Henry. No, sir.” I looked around the kitchen. “This old place has a lot of history, huh?”

“It’s over a hundred and fifty years old.”

“Frank and I were talking last night. I remember hearing about the Watkins case years ago. They never did find the one who did it.”

Henry’s eyes clouded over. “Everyone knows who did it, but they couldn’t get no evidence.”

“Bill Collins?”

With a sneer in his tone, he said, “Old Frank talks an awful lot, doesn’t he?”

His sudden hostility surprised me. “I don’t understand. You don’t think he should have mentioned it?”

Leaning forward, the butler said, “It’s over and done with, Mr. Boudreaux. Let the dead bury the dead.”

I’d heard that last remark a thousand times, and I never could figure out how the dead could bury the dead. “I don’t mean to pry. I’m a PI. I’m naturally nosy. An unsolved crime like this one is begging to be investigated. Not that I would, understand. But it is intriguing.”

For several moments, he stared at me, then sighed. “I see what you mean. Yeah, it is a puzzle.”

“You were here then, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You mind telling me about it?”

He stared at me for several moments. I could see the wheels turning in his head. Finally, he said, “I don’t mind.”

Running his hand over his bald head, Henry began, “Mr. Watkins was giving a party, a Christmas party.” He related the same story I had heard from Frank, down to the fact that not even tearing down some of the walls had revealed how the killer escaped from the library.

Gadrate came in at that moment. She hesitated when she saw me. Her eyes flicked up to my bandage, then away. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” I said.

“Sandwiches in the refrigerator, Gadrate,” Henry said. He glanced at me. “You hungry, Tony?”

I hadn’t been, but now I was. “Yeah. I’ll take one, if it’s no trouble.”

“Ham and cheese, or turkey and cheese?” the slight maid asked from behind the open refrigerator door.

“Turkey and cheese. Thanks.”

When Gadrate slid in at the table, Henry said, “I was telling Tony here about the night Mr. Watkins was killed.”

Her small face darkened a moment. She shook her head, her short brown hair bobbing behind her. “Me, I don’t like to talk about the dead. I hear stories about the dead coming back to make sure nobody talks about them.”

Henry snorted. “That’s hogwash, Gadrate, and you know it.”

She shook her head emphatically and made the sign of the cross over her chest. “Me, I know what I know.” Taking her sandwich and soft drink, she pushed away from the table and left the kitchen.

The slender butler gave me a wry smile. “She can be a little odd at times, but she’s a good worker.”

After Henry left, I stood at the glass doors at the rear of the kitchen looking toward Frank Creek’s cottage and the storage shed.

I spotted a gray cat streaking away from the house. Seconds later, he disappeared into the lush flower garden around the gazebo in the middle of the grounds. I only glimpsed him, but I would have sworn it was Hercules.

No way, I told myself, but for some reason, I couldn’t get the cat off my mind. On impulse, I wandered the house, searching for the mackerel-colored cat. Going up the stairs, I met Gadrate coming down.

She gave me a short nod. I decided not to ask her about Hercules. Instead, I returned her silent greeting. I searched the mansion, twice, and couldn’t find a trace of him. I counted the cats one by one, Abyssinian, Cornish Rex, Russian Blue, Balinese, and fifteen others. Each time, I came up with nineteen.

I searched the library thoroughly, banging on the couch cushions, shaking the drapes in case he was sleeping above the valance, but there was no trace of that cat. I paused in front of the large fireplace, staring at the gas logs that had to be at least six feet long. I always preferred real logs, but as Scott Fitzgerald allegedly remarked, “The rich are different from you and me.” Besides, given the size of the fireplace, it would probably burn half a cord of wood every night.

The logs blurred as my thoughts drifted back to the old man’s murder. I studied the oak-paneled walls. There had to be a way out. People just didn’t vanish, and there sure wasn’t a
Star Trek
ship around to beam the killer up.

I drew a deep breath and decided to see if Eddie had responded to my request.

As I closed the library door behind me, Karla bounced down the stairs wearing a white terry-cloth robe and rubber flip-flops. She stopped when she saw me, a look of contrition on her face. “Mr. Boudreaux. I want to apologize for being so hateful this morning. There’s no excuse for bad manners.”

I replied. “No problem. Apology accepted.” I eyed her robe. “Taking a dip?”

She smiled becomingly. Her long blonde hair lay over her shoulders. “Nothing else to do until Kevin gets back.” She grew serious. “You look bored. Why don’t you join me? Better than sitting around.”

For a moment, I was tempted, but I wanted to see if Eddie had responded. “Maybe later. I didn’t bring my suit.”

A sly smile played over her lips and a taunting glitter filled her eyes. “Oh, that’s too bad.”

“Yeah. Another time.”

She blew me a kiss and bounced across the foyer. I shook my head. The apology was nice, if she meant it. I started up the stairs, when I heard a clatter in the library. Puzzled, I looked inside. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed, but then I noticed a poker from the tool set lay on the fireplace hearth.