Kitty Litter Killer (10 page)

Jaylene walked out of the back room and frowned at me. “Did you forget something last time you were here?”

She might as well have tossed a bucket of ice water over me.

I pointed to the Kitty Koller rack. “No, I just wanted another one of these.”

Her attitude didn’t change. “That’s not the only reason you’re here, is it?”

I shrugged. “Well, I did want to ask you some questions.”

“I knew it. I knew that’s what you were doing. Your mother says you’re trying to solve Philip Grenville’s murder. To save Abbie from going to jail.” She glared at me. “Well, you won’t find any suspects here. I told your mother that this morning when she walked in here and started demanding answers to her questions. I’ve never been so offended in my life.”

I wondered what my mother had asked Jaylene. I’d never known her to act so hostile, especially to an old family friend.

“I don’t want my friend to go to jail,” I said. “So I’m asking questions of everyone I know. I’m not accusing anyone of anything.”

“Well, you’d better not. That’s all I have to say.” Jaylene crossed her arms and stared hard at me.

After my little chat with Gladys, maybe I’d do well to begin with questions about Clark. Not that I could imagine how he would fit into Philip’s murder. Still, it would serve to distract Jaylene. “Do you remember those holes in the cat litter bags?”

Her eyes widened. “Yes. What about it?”

“Well, I wondered if you knew anything about that delivery guy. Clark? One of my, um, friends is interested in him. But if he’s irresponsible, I want to discourage her.” April May was a friend. And she was interested.

Jaylene relaxed a fraction. “I don’t know anything about him except that he’s too cocky for someone who works at WWPS. I called them and complained.”

“How long has he been coming in here?”

“Only a few weeks. The WWPS company said he was new. Sloppy is what I said.”

I pulled some cash from my wallet to pay for the Kitty Koller. “Well, maybe he’s not the kind of person she needs to hang out with if you think he hasn’t got good character.”

She snatched the money from my hand. “Good character is in short supply around here.”

That reminded me of Philip. “Listen, you said Henry had seen Philip in town. I wondered if you knew why he was here.”

“Why would we know that?” She eyed me with a narrowed glance then slapped some change into my hand. “I’m sure I don’t know, and Henry wouldn’t know, would he? It’s not like Philip’s a relative of mine or Henry’s, is it?”

“Why do you say that?” I asked as I put the money back into my wallet.

She huffed. “He was scum. Just plain scum. But you would know that, wouldn’t you? Because of Abbie?”

I couldn’t help the look of surprise that I know crossed my face. “Scum?”

She put her hands on her hips. “If I don’t hear Philip Grenville’s name ever again, I’ll be happy. And don’t think you can pin this on Henry.” Her vehemence was like a physical blow.

“What?”

“Philip’s murder. You can’t pin that on Henry.”

“Why would I pin it on Henry? What does Henry have to do with Philip?”

She glared at me. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Isn’t that what I just said? Now I have things to do, unless you need to buy something else.”

My lie-meter alarm, honed from being the mother of five, was clanging like Ma’s old dinner bell. Jaylene was covering up something that had to do with Henry and Philip.

I heard some rustling in the back room, then Henry came charging into the store. “Jaylene, I—”

“Trish is just leaving,” she said.

Henry finally noticed me. “Trish.”

“Henry,” I said.

“She’s trying to prove that we murdered Philip.”

“That’s not what I said at all.” I couldn’t believe how people jumped to conclusions.

Henry’s lip curled. “Well, I wouldn’t be so ready to defend Abbie. You know she can handle a rifle as easy as a guy can.”

The door to the shop opened, and Jaylene glanced over my shoulder. Her eyes narrowed.

I turned and saw Clark walking determinedly down the aisle.

“Abbie coulda done it,” Henry said, undeterred by the intrusion. “Your daddy taught her, you know.”

Clark reached the counter, and Jaylene stood there with her arms crossed, glaring at him.

“I ain’t takin’ it back. I called your company and complained. Because you busted open those bags of cat litter.”

Clark smiled at her. White teeth. Full wattage. Lit up the room. The guy was good looking, no doubt about it. “I just came by to apologize,” he said. “I’ll pay for them.”

I watched Jaylene’s frown diminish. He was a charmer, all right, if he could accomplish that with her.

“I’ll try not to let it happen again.” He looked at Henry. “Sir. . .”

Henry nodded.

Then Clark turned to me. His fingertips danced a rhythm against his thighs. His smile faded, and a tiny frown creased the skin between his brows.

“I met you. . . .”

I didn’t like the fact that I wasn’t memorable. If I were tall and striking like Abbie, he wouldn’t have forgotten. “I’m Doris’s daughter. Doris’s Doughnuts? I met you the other day.”

“That’s right.” He grinned. “I’m headed down there in a minute. Say, you’re the one who’s gonna take the bookplate to my mother.”

“Yes, I’m the one.” I’d be doing that as soon as possible. I wanted to know more about the handsome Clark Matthews.

“Good. I told her about it and she’s excited.” He looked me up and down. Then he frowned again. “Abbie. Isn’t she the one whose husband just—”

“Ex-husband,” I corrected. “Yes. He was killed.”

“Ah. I’m sorry. Bad thing. You wouldn’t think it would happen around here in Four Oaks.” He turned back to Jaylene. “I promise I’ll do better in the future. I can’t afford to lose my job.”

He continued to talk. I edged toward the door. I had a few other things to find out, but I knew one thing for sure. I wasn’t going to get any more answers from Jaylene. At least not today.

At Doris’s Doughnuts, things were hectic. Linda was cleaning a table and chatting with some customers. April May was making sandwiches, and Ma was stomping around the coffee machines, wiping them down hard with a white rag. The scowl on her face was an indication she was in a bad mood. I hoped it wasn’t something I’d done.

“Hi, Ma.”

She glanced at me. “Well, you came. At least some people do what they say.” She slapped the rag on the counter.

I breathed a sigh of relief. That sounded promising. Someone else was the object of her wrath, not me.

“So what’s wrong?” I asked. “Oh, and can I have a Mountain Dew, please?”

“What’s wrong?” She jammed her fists into her hips. “You ask me what’s wrong?”

“Yes,” I said. “That’s what I asked.”

“Well, I’ll tell you what. You think people are friends. And then this.” She yanked a glass from the stack on the counter and filled it with ice and soda for me.

“Uh-huh.” I waited.

When she was done, she slid the glass toward me. “I don’t know why I bother.”

“Me, either,” I murmured to pacify her.

“That’s what I get for having friends.”

“What happened?” I drew in a mouthful of drink through my straw.

“It’s Gail. She called and said she wasn’t coming in. Then she said she was taking the rest of the week off.”

I almost dropped my glass. “What? She never takes time off except to go to North Carolina once a year.”

“Well, people change, now, don’t they?” Ma rubbed hard on the counter.

Gail was a legendary stick-in-the-mud. Never altering her routine. That she would suddenly do this meant that things between them were more seriously wrong than I thought.

“Don’t you think you should talk to her?” I asked. “You guys have been friends for years.”

“Isn’t that what I just said? She shouldn’t do this.” Ma shook her head. “No. I’m not the one who walked out of here.”

While my mother was in this state, I wouldn’t be able to convince her to do anything, so a change of topic was in order.

I leaned closer to her so she wouldn’t have to talk loudly, although I knew it was a lost cause. “What did you ask Jaylene this morning? She was really upset when I went over there.”

“I asked her if she or Henry killed Philip Grenville,” Ma said, as loud as ever. “The Adlers have hated Philip forever. I don’t know why.”

I drew in a deep breath. That was a new low on Ma’s lack of subtlety list. And it explained why Jaylene was so hostile. “So if she or Henry had committed murder, you expected her to answer that question honestly?”

Ma blinked. “Well, of course I would. I’ve known her for years. She goes to church twice a week, and Henry hunts with your father.”

I couldn’t even think of a reply to that skewed logic, and that was fine because when Ma glanced up over my head, all the tension etching her face melted. She suddenly looked ten years younger. I turned around to see what caused the miracle. I should have guessed. Clark, the studly WWPS man, was walking into the shop.

Seeing him reminded me of Gladys’s comments. I could picture Clark as a model, but I didn’t want to pursue that further in my head because the pictures weren’t edifying. Still, he was from New York. Relatively new in town.

He stopped midway to the counter, and his gaze cut across the room. I followed it. He and Linda were making serious eye contact. She smiled and waved at him. He smiled back then proceeded to the counter and handed some boxes to Ma.

I glanced at April May, who was making a breakfast sandwich behind the counter. I hoped she hadn’t noticed the little interchange, but she had. Her arms were frozen. With a roll in one hand and a piece of bacon in the other, she gazed from him to Linda with wide eyes. Then her eyelids dropped. She pursed her lips and set about making the sandwich with deliberate, hard motions. She’d seen exactly what I had seen. Something was going on between Clark and Linda.

I leaned against the counter to watch the soap opera. Ma, oblivious to everything, just kept chatting with Clark. I heard him compliment her coffee. Linda went back to cleaning tables. April finished the sandwich and, with a stiff back, delivered it to a customer. I felt sorry for her. Clark finished his business, then he smiled at April as she returned to the counter. She just nodded at him and brushed past him and back behind the counter. He frowned. I found myself inwardly cheering for April May. As he swaggered toward the door to leave, he waved at Linda again, and she held up six fingers. I assumed they were meeting later on.

I watched him leave. Two kids pulled up in front of the shop. He exchanged high fives with them. I turned back to the counter, thinking that outside would be a friendlier place than inside the shop right now.

Ma was swiping her rag across the countertop again. “You eating?” she asked, back to her grumpy self.

“No,” I murmured. “I need to borrow your key to the church.”

She glanced sharply at me. “You are going to solve this mystery, aren’t you? That’s good. It means I don’t have to do it myself.”

“Yes. I’m looking into it.” I wanted to say that I was going to try to solve it if for no other reason than to protect Ma from her own mouth.

“I talked to Abbie, and she told me to put off reception plans, but I’m not going to. I told her that. I told her you’d solve this mystery.”

“I’m hoping the police are done at the fellowship hall.”

“I’m sure they will be. They assured the pastor they’d be done as soon as possible. He wants to hold a prayer meeting there this afternoon so people don’t feel so strange about being there.” She frowned. “They need to do something. The ladies are having a holiday tea on Friday, and a few of the women are going to do some prep work tonight.”

I felt sorry for the church members. Their new building was stained, at least figuratively, by a shooting.

“I won’t be going,” Ma said through narrowed lips.

“Why not?” She’d never missed the tea before.

“Because Gail is in charge.”

“Ma, that’s child—”

“Wait here,” Ma said, cutting me off. “I need to use the bathroom, and then I’ll give you my extra fellowship hall key. I can get my other one back from Linda.” She strode to the back room.