Much Ado About Felines (Whales and Tails Mystery Book 4) (5 page)

I glanced one final time in the direction in which I had seen the movement, but whomever had been there was gone. I could hear the organ just beginning to play the opening hymn inside the church. I said a quick prayer for Destiny and her family and hurried back inside.

Sunday dinner at the Hart family home was a tradition that had been around since before I was born. I’ll admit that in recent years there have been those Sundays when the only people in attendance were my younger sister Cassidy, Mom, and me, but this week Aunt Maggie, Marley, Tara, and Cody had joined us.

Still, even with the extra guests, dinner at the Hart house was nothing like the huge gatherings we’d had back before the cannery closed and most of my aunts and uncles moved away. Our gatherings shrank even further when Dad died and Siobhan moved to Seattle.

I walked into the kitchen to find the others working together to prepare the communal meal. Mom grabbed Cody before he even got through the door and instructed him to set up the patio table outdoors. It had turned out to be a beautiful afternoon and she wanted to enjoy her flower garden for as long as she could before winter set in.

“Caitlin, why don’t you make a salad?” Mom instructed.

I’m not sure if the fact that I’m
always
asked to make the salad is an indication of my mother’s lack of faith in my cooking ability or if it’s because I’m usually the last one to stagger in and the salad is the only job that hasn’t been assigned yet.

“We were just discussing the Harvest Festival next weekend,” Tara, who was stirring something on the stove, caught me up. “They’re going to open the corn maze and hay rides on Thursday rather than Friday this year.”

“It does seem like the event would do better if there were more options to attend,” I agreed. “Are we planning to have a booth over the weekend?”

“I’d like to,” Tara responded, “but I hate to close the store on Friday and Saturday.”

“I can handle the booth in town if you can find someone to help at the store,” I offered.

“Cassidy is off school beginning on Friday,” Mom informed us. “I’m sure she’d be happy to help.”

“Great; I’ll ask her,” Tara answered.

“Speaking of help,” Mom continued, “I’ve been elected chairperson for the Friday night supper at the church and I could really use everyone’s help. Our women’s group hopes to earn enough money to buy new linens for the sanctuary this year.”

“I can help,” I confirmed.

“Excellent.” Mom opened the oven door and took a peek at whatever was inside. It certainly did smell good.

“We’ve decided to set up a kiddie carnival in the Sunday school rooms. I was hoping you and Tara could help with that. Maggie and Marley have volunteered to help me in the kitchen.”

I shrugged. “Whatever you need.”

“I really think this is going to be our most profitable festival ever,” Mom exclaimed.

“I heard the tickets to the Masquerade Ball are selling like hot cakes,” Marley commented.

“I think everyone is hoping for a repeat of last year’s entertainment,” Maggie snickered.

Last year one of the local women dumped an entire pitcher of punch over her husband’s head when she saw he was flirting with one of the waitresses from O’Malley’s. He’d tried to chase after her, but he slipped and fell, which set off a series of events rivaling the best slapstick comedy ever featured on the silver screen. The majority of the attendees felt both husband and wife had acted inappropriately, but I thought the whole thing was a hoot.

“Of course this year all anyone will be talking about is Madrona Island’s most recent murder,” Marley speculated.

“It does seem to be at the forefront of most conversations,” Mom agreed. “I haven’t heard anything about an arrest as of yet.”

“As far as I know, Finn isn’t even close to getting it figured out,” I said. Ryan Finnegan is the resident deputy who’s officially investigating the case. “He’s been chasing down some leads, but as of yesterday he’d come up empty. I didn’t see him at Mass this morning, so I imagine he’s working. Maybe he’ll get things wrapped up by tomorrow.”

“The whole thing is just so disturbing.” Mom sighed. “I just ran into Roxi at the church a couple of weeks ago and it seemed like she was finally beginning to deal with Jimmy’s death. I can’t imagine what could have happened or who would have wanted to kill her.”

“Roxi might have appeared as though she was dealing with things better, but based on what I’ve heard the past couple of days, I don’t think she was at all,” I commented.

“I spoke to Sister Mary about her,” Tara spoke up. “She confirmed that Roxi had been active in her Tuesday night group and that she really was wonderful with the kids. Sister Mary has heard the rumors about Roxi’s recent behavior, but in her opinion there may be more to what’s going on than people think. She said Roxi seemed lost. She tried to talk to her about whatever problems she’d been having, but Roxi was evasive. Still, she said she’d been around her enough to think she was a good person who simply had a huge problem she didn’t know how to deal with. Sister Mary feels we shouldn’t go with the easy answer, that we should dig deeper. I don’t know about you, but I trust her judgment.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Me too.”

“Cait, can you grab the linen napkins out of the hutch?” Mom asked.

I left the kitchen and entered the dining room where the hutch was located. As I passed, my sister grabbed my arm and pulled me into the hallway.

“I need your help,” she whispered.

“What kind of help?”

Cassie pulled me into the den and closed the door behind us.

“I have a date, so I need to get out of here early.”

“Did you tell Mom about your date?” I wondered.

“No. She doesn’t approve of Brad; she’d never let me go.”

“Brad?” I asked as I sat down on the same sofa I used to lounge on when I was a child. “I thought you were dating a guy named Justin.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “Where have you been? Justin was over months ago.”

I was glad to hear that because Justin was almost three years older than sixteen-year-old Cassie.

“Have I met Brad?”

“Not yet. We’ve been keeping it casual, but I really like him. I know I should have told him I couldn’t go out with him tonight, but I found myself saying I’d love to have an early dinner with him. He’s really cute,” Cassie added, as if that explained everything.

“And this Brad—does he go to school with you?”

Cassie nodded. “He’s a junior like me and yes, he’s a nice guy.”

I’d heard that before. I’m afraid Cassie tended to gravitate toward bad boys.

“So why doesn’t Mom like him?”

“I don’t know,” Cassie insisted. “He’s great.”

I just looked at her.

“He does have a unique style.”

I continued to wait.

“It’s his hair,” Cassie finally admitted.

“What’s wrong with his hair?”

“It’s blue.”

I frowned. “I’m sure Mom wouldn’t be thrilled with blue hair, but I don’t see her forbidding you to date this boy based on hair color alone.”

“She doesn’t like his tats.”

“He has a tattoo?”

“Several of them, actually. But they really work with his piercings.”

No wonder Mom didn’t want Cassie getting in a car alone with this boy. Mom was very conservative. I’d had to wait to get my ears pierced until I was eighteen.

“Look, I know how it sounds, but Brad is nice. Really. You have to provide a diversion so I can sneak out.”

I leaned back against the sofa cushion behind me and let out a long breath. I really hate these moments when I’m torn between my roles as supportive big sister and responsible adult. I really did understand where Cassie was coming from. Sort of. I’d snuck out during my tenure as a teenager in this house and on several of those occasions Siobhan had covered for me. On the other hand, I didn’t know this new boyfriend of Cassie’s. For all I knew, my mom had a really good reason for not wanting her to go out with him.

“I know how important it is to have freedom when you’re sixteen,” I began, “but it’s Sunday. Sundays are important to Mom. Why don’t you call Brad and invite him to join us for dinner?”

“Haven’t you been listening? Mom hates him.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t
hate
him.”

“She does.”

“How about if I talk to Mom to see if I can smooth the way for him to come to dinner? Cody is the only guy here today. I’m sure he’d appreciate having a little more testosterone in the house.”

“Mom will never go for it. She thinks Brad’s a freak.”

“Maybe if she got a chance to know him, she’d change her mind. Maybe she’d even let you date him.”

Cassie appeared to be considering my idea. Of course if she went for it, I’d have to convince my straitlaced mother not only to allow Brad to come to dinner but to give him a fair shot as well.

“What do you have to lose?” I asked. “Sure, you can sneak out tonight, but then you’ll be grounded when she finds out later, and Mom will
really
hate him. In the end, you won’t be able to date him anyway. But if she winds up getting to know and like him…”

“Oh, all right. But this better work.”

Somehow I got Mom to agree to let Brad come to dinner, and I enlisted Cody and Tara’s help in smoothing over any rough spots in the conversation. I was simultaneously proud of myself for coming up with a good alternative to the situation and terrified the whole thing would blow up in my face if Mom really did hate Brad. As things turned out, the entire experience was one I’d always remember.

Later that evening I slid into the passenger seat of Cody’s car and began to laugh hysterically. I couldn’t help it. I had been holding it in all day. Not only had Mom allowed Brad to come to dinner but she had actually
liked
him.

“Did you see Cassie’s face when Mom and Brad started talking about that conference they’d both attended?” I roared.

“She did seem to be a little upset,” Cody agreed.

“And then when they began discussing books they both liked and the list was extensive?” I leaned back in the seat, holding my stomach. “I thought Cassie was going to get up and leave.”

“The way her face turned red
was
kind of funny,” Cody agreed as he pulled onto the highway.

“Poor Cassie thought she was dating a bad boy, but it turns out she’s been lusting after an altar boy.” I started laughing again.

“Okay, it’s kind of funny, but it’s not
that
funny.” Cody glanced at me.

“I know.” I drew in a deep breath as tears streamed down my face. “I really don’t know why I can’t stop laughing.”

“Post traumatic stress? Temporary insanity? Too much wine?”

“Probably all of the above.” I hiccuped as I tried to suppress my hysteria-induced giggles.

“I think you might need some fresh air,” Cody teased. “Why don’t we stop by to pick up Rambler and then head over to your place so you can change and get Max? Then we’ll all go for a walk along the beach.”

“I think that might be a very good idea.” 

Cody’s suggestion about taking a walk along the beach was the best idea I’d heard all day. The summer crowds had gone, so it was just the two of us with the two dogs as they romped in the waves and we walked hand in hand along the shore. Cody had come to the island for a short visit in May in order to figure out what to do with his life. His most recent tour with the Navy had been drawing to a close and he’d needed to decide if he wanted to re-up or move on to something else. In the end he’d realized that he enjoyed spending time on the island where he grew up, with the people who had known him since childhood, so he’d resigned from the Navy and bought the newspaper the previous owner had decided to sell after moving away.

Cody had left after the Fourth of July in order to finish up with the Navy and to get his belongings out of storage. He’d moved back to the island a few days before Labor Day and began printing the newspaper a couple of weeks after that.

The two of us had a history I found to be embarrassing at the least. When Cody had returned in May, I’d thought our past would prevent us from ever being friends, but it turned out that after we’d worked on the first of three murders we’d solved together, any discomfort we’d felt had melted into our memories of the past.

During Cody’s visit over the summer we’d settled into a comfortable friendship. When he’d left again I’d found I missed him (a lot), but since he’d returned I’d noticed that our relationship had settled into a sort of Neverland. I had feelings for him and it seemed he had feelings for me, but I knew our relationship was important to both of us, and neither he nor I seemed to be willing to risk the friendship we shared for the possibility of something more.

Still, I had no desire to date other men, and he didn’t seem to have interest in dating other women, so we’d settled into a comfortable pairing the status of which was undefined but appeared to hold promise.

“It looks like it’s going to be a busy week for both of us,” I commented as the cold water washed over our bare feet.

“Yeah, it looks like it. I hoped to have something new and spectacular to report about Roxi’s murder by the time the paper goes to print on Tuesday evening, but so far all I have is colorful confetti that appears to tell a story but isn’t anywhere close to coming together.”