Kitty Litter Killer (22 page)

Chapter Seventeen

I woke on Tuesday feeling a bit more refreshed than I had in a while. I’d spent all the previous day at the construction job site trailer, figuring out how I was going to set up my new office. After breakfast, while Chris kept up a running monologue of baby chatter, I reviewed all my clues, hoping I’d see things more clearly. Unfortunately, the break hadn’t helped my investigation at all. I was no closer to figuring out who killed Philip than I had been two days previous. I was panicked that Abbie would end up in jail.

Midafternoon, I’d dropped Chris off at the sitters and headed to Sammie’s school to pick her up. She didn’t need her younger brother there, distracting her grandmother or making a bunch of racket while she got her kitten. Today I wanted all the attention to be on her.

We were running early for once and decided to make a pit stop at the Gas ’n’ Go. I was once again in an inner struggle, salivating for a Mountain Dew. I vowed to break my habit—but not today. Inside the store, I overheard three teens in line ahead of me order hot dogs. That sounded so good that I ordered hot dogs for me and Sammie.

While we waited for Pat, the clerk, to fix them, I got my Mountain Dew and some juice for Sammie, then we went to the rack of chips. I waited for her to pick out the one she wanted. Through the front window of the store, I saw Clark pull his blue WWPS truck into a space next to my SUV.

Sammie tugged on my arm. “Mommy, I want these.” I glanced down at the bag of Doritos she held. “Okay, that’s fine.” I grabbed one for myself.

Our food was ready by the time we got back to the counter. The teens had already paid for theirs and were headed out the door. A rack holding the latest weekly edition of our local paper was next to the counter. The headline was Philip’s death. It was now officially a murder investigation, surprise, surprise. Abbie’s picture was featured in the article, next to a picture of Philip. I felt sick and glanced away to calm myself. Clark was on the sidewalk, holding a box and talking to the kids.

“He’s really built, isn’t he?” Pat said as she rang up my order.

I swiveled my head to look at her. “What?”

“That WWPS delivery guy.” She grinned like a wolf. “This is my daily eye candy break. He comes in every day at this time to get a drink and a snack.”

“Oh.” That was one way to put it. But I couldn’t have cared less about Clark. Like a magnet, my attention was drawn back to the article. I finally picked up the paper and slapped it on the counter. “Add this, please.”

Pat looked down at it and shook her head. “Isn’t that tragic? Seems they’re about to arrest that guy’s ex-wife. And her being an author and all.”

Whatever being an author had to do with anything.

Pat leaned toward me and pointed at Philip’s picture in the paper. “You know this Philip guy? He was in here. With her.” Pat jabbed at Abbie’s picture. “Cops asked me about that. Fact, he and Eye Candy talked once, too.”

Clark and Philip had talked? As she continued to chat, I paid for my purchases, took the bag, and handed the paper to Sammie to carry. Then I headed for the car.

The teens had left, and Clark was standing next to his truck. He seemed to be waiting for us. “I wanted to thank you for taking that autograph to my mother.”

“She’s very proud of you,” I said. “Told me you were taking classes and helping kids at the Y.”

“Charlie goes to the Y,” Sammie said. “His friend’s brother was arrested.”

Clark glanced down at her then looked up at me.

“Sammie, honey, I don’t think Mr. Clark cares about all of that.” I smiled at him.

“Charlie is your son, right? I’ve heard your mother talking about him.”

“Yes,” I said. I wished my mother would zip her big mouth.

“And I’m getting a kitten today,” Sammie informed him. “My grandma bought it for me. It’s Siamese and lives in a big house right now.”

Clark raised an eyebrow.

I glanced at my watch. “And we’re going to be late if we don’t get moving.”

He smiled at me then told us both good-bye and went into the Gas ’n’ Go. A cold breeze whipped my hair in my eyes, and for a moment, I couldn’t see. I shoved it aside and dug in my purse for my keys.

As I unlocked the SUV, Sammie dropped the newspaper on the ground. It flew apart.

“I’m sorry, Mommy.” Sammie bent over to pick it up.

“It’s okay.”

I put her food in the back where she could reach it.

The paper was a mess. She handed it to me section by section, and I stuffed it on the floor. After I buckled her into her seat, I shut the door and glanced into the store as I walked around to the driver’s side door. Clark was standing at the counter, staring out the window at us.

For some reason, he made me uneasy. I decided to review my clues when I got home. If Clark had had contact with Philip, maybe he was the killer. Once again, he moved to the top of my list. I just needed to figure out why.

Although Sammie had claimed hunger, she hardly touched her hot dog. We were still a bit early when we arrived at the Whitmores’; she undid her belt and exploded from the SUV. I followed behind her as quickly as possible.

She pressed the doorbell and looked up at me with sparkling eyes. “The kitty can sleep with me, right?”

“Sure,” I said. Better her than me.

Leighton answered the door. “Hello, Trish. We were expecting you. Angelica is already here.”

“Can I go on back, Mommy?” Sammie looked from me to Leighton. She was ready to burst. “I know the way.”

Leighton nodded. “Certainly.”

She scampered down the hall. We followed more slowly. I noticed a few packing boxes against the walls.

Leighton saw me look. “We’re getting ready to move. I’ve already packed my office.”

The family room was empty when we got there. Leighton paused. “I guess everybody’s with the kittens. Come in and make yourself at home. I’m sure Hayley and Angelica will be back out in a minute.”

He walked to one of the French doors and stared out over the pool and backyard. I felt awkward and realized it was because in my mind he was a suspect. Not that he could read my mind, but it was strange being in a room with someone about whom I’d had such bad thoughts.

I went to the mantel to look again at the picture of Hayley and Leighton at their wedding. The fountain was the same as the one in Linda’s picture. So they had been married in Atlanta. I didn’t have time to think about it. I heard footsteps behind me and turned. Hayley walked through the kitchen and into the family room looking very upper-class suburban in nice slacks and a sweater set.

Leighton turned and their gazes met for a moment, then he stuck his hands in his pockets and returned to staring morosely at the pool.

Hayley looked at me. “Sammie and Angelica will be out in a minute. Sammie is just letting her kitten say good-bye to his siblings. She’s sad that he has to leave his family.”

I smiled at Sammie’s sensitivity.

The doorbell gonged.

“I’ll get that,” Hayley said.

I turned back to the photo on the mantel, then my cell phone chirped, telling me I had a text message. I glanced at the screen. It was from Max.
Dont go 2 Whitmores. Talked 2 Fletcher. Will explain when I can talk. Call my mother.
I squinted and read it again.

“You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?”

I hadn’t realized that Leighton had crossed the room and was standing behind me.

What had I figured out? And what was Max’s message about? Had Leighton killed Philip? And had he seen my text message? I slapped my phone shut and slowly turned around. “I don’t know what you mean.” Not a lie. I really didn’t know for sure.

“I thought we’d be safe here,” he said. “Who would have thought that a drunken one-night dalliance with a stranger at a real estate convention would come back and bite me? Alcohol gives a person loose lips.”

“Linda?” Her name slipped from my mouth before I could stop myself.

His head snapped toward me. “You do know. Your husband said you were sharp.”

“I don’t really know anything.” I glanced at the phone in my hand. “Max is on his way.” An outright lie, but it was all I could think of in the fear of the moment.

Leighton shrugged. “And if that wasn’t bad enough, Philip Grenville figures out who I am. I have no idea how he did that. The company scammed his sister, not him. And him a cop. I should have moved us to Europe. Or Costa Rica.”

Leighton had been part of the scam in which Mary had lost money? “Who are you?” I was trying to distract him so I could push buttons on my phone. I wished they didn’t beep.

“A corporate real estate lawyer. A wanted man.” He fisted his right hand and banged it into his left palm. “The people I worked for in Atlanta set up real estate deals and scammed people. They had connections, if you get my drift. When they hired me, I didn’t know who they were. By the time I figured it all out, I was in too deep. They were scamming people right and left.

“They forced me to clean up the mess and point the finger at the hapless agents they’d set up to take the fall. Then they paid me to keep quiet and disappear.” He paused and inhaled. “I was lucky they didn’t just kill me and bury pieces of my body in some landfill.”

“But what about Philip?” I asked.

“He saw me at the doctor’s office one day and thought he recognized me. Only thing I could figure is he must have seen pictures of me from the investigation. He was a cop. He could have had access to that. He kept pursuing me, asking me questions. I knew if it got out, my old employers might kill me. And Hayley. I had to protect her. I married her after I changed my name, you know.”

“You changed—” I was interrupted by something I saw out of the corner of my eye. I turned. So did Leighton.

“Leighton. . .honey?” Hayley had come into the room, followed closely by Clark Matthews.

Leighton frowned, then he gasped when he saw what I saw.

Clark had a gun pointed at Hayley’s head.

Chapter Eighteen

“What—who. . .” Leighton looked as astonished as I felt.

When we got to the farm, I asked him to wait after the kids hopped from the car. Max reached to get Chris from his car seat, and briefly I told him what Mary had said.

“Your friendly neighborhood WWPS man at your service.” Clark’s usual model smile had been replaced by a sneer.

Leighton took a step toward Clark. “Put your gun away and let my wife go.”

“Don’t move again, Mr. Leighton Whitmore,” Clark said. “Of course, that’s not your real name, is it?”

I began wildly pushing buttons on my cell.

“Drop that phone,” Clark said to me, then jabbed the gun into Hayley’s head.

I dropped it on the floor. I had one thought: keep Sammie safe.

Leighton took a step toward Clark and Hayley. Angelica walked into the kitchen, holding Sammie’s coat in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. I heard Clark swear.

“Patricia, Samantha has been collecting things again.” She finally noticed Clark and her eyes grew wide. “What is going on?”

“I wondered where that bag went. Might have known the kid picked it up.” Clark kept his gun pointed at Hayley’s head. “Trish and Leighton, go sit on the couch.” He watched us as we obeyed. My mind was frozen.

All I could think about was Sammie. What if she walked into the room?

Leighton began to clench and unclench his hands.

That brought me out of my stupor. Who was the worst bad guy here? The man next to me on the couch? Or Mr. Model Perfect, Clark? Obviously Clark had a gun, but why? And who had killed Philip?

I noticed a shadow slip into the room behind Clark. Mr. Chang Lee had finally made an appearance.

Clark paid no mind to the feline. He pointed at Angelica. “Bring me what you have in your hand.” Angelica just stood there, her mouth hanging open.

“Lady!” Clark barked. “Do what I say, or I’m going to kill her.” He shoved the gun hard into Hayley’s head, and Hayley whimpered.

Leighton jumped up from the sofa, hopping across the coffee table. In one fast blur, Clark aimed his gun. The deafening shot echoed through the room. Leighton dropped to the floor next to the fireplace. A red spot bloomed near his collar on his shirt.

“No!” Hayley screamed. She raced to his side, oblivious of Clark’s gun. He didn’t try to stop her.

“You.” Clark pointed at Angelica. “Give me what’s in your hand.”

She tilted her chin in the air as she walked over to him. “Whatever do you want with a bag of Tootsie Rolls and little candies?”

Clark laughed and snatched the bag from her hand. “Little candies? Lady, you live in a fantasy world. Now go sit down next to Trish.”

The couch shifted slightly as Angelica sat next to me. “Where’s Sammie?” I whispered.

“Where’s the kid?” Clark asked at the same time.

I felt the couch shift as Angelica glanced at the doorway to the laundry room.

Clark’s sharp gaze followed hers. He smiled. “We’ll take care of her in a minute.”

Fear made my chest burn.

“I told her to stay with the cats for a couple of minutes while I talked to you,” Angelica whispered.

“Shut up!” Clark waved the gun at us.

I begged God to keep Sammie in the laundry room. I’d lost sight of Mr. Lee, but I heard his familiar yowl.

Clark swore. “What was that?”

“Mr. Chang Lee,” I said.

“Who?”

Mr. Lee strolled into the middle of the room from behind a chair, yowled again, and sat hard on his haunches, staring at Clark.

“Oh, a cat.” Clark dismissed Mr. Lee with three words. I was pretty sure he had no idea what Mr. Lee was capable of. Well, truth be told, I had no idea what Mr. Lee was capable of, either.

Hayley was murmuring to Leighton. She’d taken off her sweater and pressed it against his wound. It looked to me like the bullet had gone through his shoulder, but I couldn’t tell for sure.

Clark turned to me. “You ask way too many questions. I should have known when you offered to take that autograph thing to my mother.”

I frowned. “You should have known what?”

“I should have known you’d figure it all out. Your mother always bragged on you. And idiot Linda, all panicked because you asked her about a button. I just couldn’t believe you’d be that smart. Or stupid. . .depending on how you look at it now.”

That stupid? If I’d been a little smarter, I might have figured things out by now. In fact, I I would know exactly what was going on at the moment.

“So Linda helped you kill Philip?”

“Linda does anything I ask her to do,” he said. “She’s like a puppet. All I have to do is pull the strings.”

Leighton hadn’t killed Philip. Clark had. With Linda’s help. Somehow. I thought of my earlier impression of Linda—that her eyes were like those of a stuffed animal. Maybe she really wasn’t that bright.

“So what’s in the bag?” I asked.

Clark glanced at the bag in his hand then stuffed it in his pocket. “Ecstasy. My bread and butter. And that cop was trying to catch me.”

“But there are Tootsie Rolls in there,” Angelica said.

Clark sneered at her. “The kids put the ecstasy in the Tootsie Rolls. This was for one of my customers.”

Drugs. He sold drugs. I almost stopped breathing when I realized how easily Sammie could have ingested the ecstasy, thinking it was candy. I wanted to leap across the room and tear into Clark for endangering her life like that.

“Horrid man,” Angelica murmured.

I agreed. And poor Philip had somehow stumbled upon Clark’s little business. As a narcotics cop, Philip would notice things like that. Ironically, his death had nothing to do with making amends. Instead it had everything to do with his job. Like our dog, Buddy—Philip had died doing what he did best.

Now I just wanted to know how it all happened. Angelica shifted on the couch next to me. I glanced at her. For the first time since I’d met her, I saw true fear etched across her nearly wrinkle-free brow. However, I also saw a glimpse of her haughty fury. I could relate, and it made me feel good. I reached for her hand and squeezed it. She squeezed back.

A cell phone rang in Clark’s pocket. He pulled it out with his left hand and flipped it open. “Yeah, babe. Come on in. We’ve got some complications.”

In the distance, I heard the front door open, followed by the tapping of heels coming down the wood-floored hallway.

Clark was looking around. “Where’s the cat?”

I shrugged. Mr. Lee had dematerialized. The cat seemed to have almost supernatural powers to appear and reappear.

I wasn’t at all surprised when Linda Faye King walked into the room. She glanced around with wide eyes. “What’s going on here?”

Clark’s gaze on her was disdainful, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Did you shoot someone else?” Linda asked.

Leighton groaned from the floor. “He’s going to bleed to death,” Hayley screamed, her eyes blazing with anger.

Clark shrugged. “He’ll die no matter what. It doesn’t matter.”

Mr. Lee hopped up on the sofa behind me.

“I thought you said this would be easy. We’d get the money then just disappear.” The pitch of Linda’s voice rose. “You said no one else would have to die.”

“Things happen,” Clark said.

“Well, you’ve got the plane tickets, right?” Linda was beginning to hyperventilate. “We’ve got to get out of here. Let’s just tie them up and leave. No one will find us.”

Clark snorted. “You are naive, babe. You have been all along.”

“You cannot possibly get away with this,” Angelica said.

Clark smiled. “Of course I can. I have a flight out of the country tonight. Money courtesy of Mr. Idiot Real Estate Scammer there who paid Linda to keep quiet so he wouldn’t have to tell his adored wifey who he really was.” Clark motioned with his head at Leighton. “Too bad he’s gonna shoot all of you, set a fire, and then shoot himself.”

“I knew. He told me all about it. He told me last Friday.” Hayley began crying and murmuring to Leighton that it was okay.

Mr. Lee rubbed his head against mine. Not a pleasant picture, any way I looked at it. Such irony. Dying with an attack cat on one side and my mother-in-law on the other.

“What should I do now?” Linda asked Clark. “I’m not going to touch another dead body. Never again. You said I wouldn’t have to.”

“You touched Philip?” I asked. “You helped kill him?”

Linda shrugged. “I hated him, so it wasn’t that bad. I had to put a receipt in his pocket. I also left that book on the counter. Our original plans didn’t work out, so we pointed the finger at Abbie Grenville. Easier to do than I thought it would be.”

Original plans? “Did you move his car?”

Clark smiled. “Yeah, she did.” He pointed at the couch. “Linda, go sit next to Trish.”

She frowned. “What?”

He aimed the gun at her. “Go sit next to Trish.”

“Wait. You mean. . .” Tears filled her eyes. “But I thought—”

“You thought I loved you?” Clark laughed. “Never. I was just using you. Just like you used other people. And just like Philip used you so long ago.”

Talk about what goes around comes around.

Mr. Lee jumped off the back of the couch. I heard him hit the floor with a thud. Angelica shifted next to me and took a breath as if she was going to speak. I elbowed her in the ribs to keep her quiet.

While Clark’s attention was on Linda, I was trying to figure out how we could escape. The magazines on the table were thick and heavy. We could throw some, but it was risky. He might shoot one of us. The decoration book and the glass vase looked like better alternatives, but I had to have the right opportunity.

“Book,” I whispered to Angelica.

Her face squished into a frown that reminded me of Charlie. I’d never noticed before the resemblance between the two. I’d never taken the time.

Linda was sobbing quietly next to me. I ignored her. She didn’t deserve any sympathy. I wished I could help Hayley, who was crying over Leighton. He was bleeding profusely.

Mr. Lee appeared by my feet and butted his head against my ankles.

“I did everything for you,” Linda whined at Clark. “I gave you most of the money Leighton paid me. I can’t believe you’re doing this. I planned it all out for you.”

I turned to face her. “You planned Philip’s murder?”

Clark snorted. “Hardly. That would take brains.”

She pouted. Definitely lacking in the brains department. “Well, I helped.” She seemed proud, and that made me want to rip out her hair by the roots. “Clark and I needed to get rid of him, because he knew about the drugs. I pretended to be nice to Philip, and then I made sure he knew Abbie would be at the church hall. See, he was all hot to make all these things right to people, including me. And he was desperate to get to Abbie alone. I’d overheard her tell your mother she’d be at the fellowship hall early that afternoon.”

“I’m tired of your voice, Linda,” Clark said. He was looking around the room. I imagined he was trying to figure out how best to kill us all.

She glared at him. “Well, it doesn’t matter, does it?” She turned to me again like she was possessed with the need to tell me everything. “At first we were going to kill them both. I was going to lure Philip and Abbie to the back of the church. Clark was going to shoot Philip. Then we would shoot Abbie with a handgun and put her in the woods. Make it look like she shot Philip then shot herself. But then she left early in a snit. She almost ruined everything. We had to rethink fast. Killing him and making it look like Abbie had done it was my idea. The receipt. The book. All of it. I lured him to the back of the fellowship hall so Clark could shoot him. He had his rifle and a pistol in his truck.”

She sounded so proud. I wanted to slap her. “You didn’t stop to think maybe he’d already told someone else about the drugs?” I asked.

Clark and Linda both frowned. Neither one of them was too bright.

“He had no proof. And I’m tired of the talking.” Clark waved the gun. “Everyone shut up.”

Mr. Lee was still rubbing my ankle, but his tail was switching against Linda’s leg. She kicked at him. He growled. I didn’t know that cats could growl.

“Call your daughter out here,” Clark ordered.

“You’re no better than Philip was,” Linda said, still crying. “Philip promised to leave his wife for me, but he never did. You’re a traitor, too.”

She kicked Mr. Lee again. His tail twitched, and he hissed and puffed up.

Clark strode over to the couch and slapped Linda. She gasped and pulled back, holding her mouth.

He pointed the gun at her head. “You’re going first.” Clark took another step forward and stepped on Mr. Lee’s tail. The cat yowled—the loudest sound I’d ever heard from a cat. I met Hayley’s gaze, and one side of her mouth lifted. That’s when I knew we were going to get a miracle. Mr. Lee grabbed Clark’s leg with his paws and sank his front teeth into Clark’s calf.

The man yelled, sounding amazingly like the cat. His gun arm flew up, and a bullet discharged into the ceiling. In one quick movement, I grabbed the vase and slammed it against his temple. As Mr. Lee bounded from the room, Clark dropped to the floor and rolled to his stomach. He was out.