Murder of a Cranky Catnapper (19 page)

“That's very sweet of you, but I'm fine.” Then without thinking, Skye blurted out, “Are you seeing anyone, Dr. Q?”

Wally shot Skye a fiercely possessive look and she quickly explained, “I was talking to our school nurse, Abby Fleming, and she was saying how hard it is to meet a nice guy. It just dawned on me that the two of you might have a lot in common. Not to mention she's gorgeous.”

“I'm not dating anyone right now.” Dr. Quillen's voice was cautious. “I think Abby might have brought her dachshund in for a knee problem. Is she a tall blonde with blue eyes and an athletic build?”

“Yes. That's her. She's a really good tennis player.” Skye beamed. “If you like, I could set up you two.”

“Well . . .” The vet hesitated, then swallowed hard and said, “Actually, I play quite a bit of tennis, too. So, sure.”

Tilting his head at Skye, Wally raised a brow and said, “If you're done matchmaking, I have a few more items to discuss with Dr. Quillen.”

“Be my guest.” Skye wrinkled her nose at him. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Wally asked the vet several questions about the break-in and Skye listened carefully to the men's conversation. All the fingerprints in the area of the crime had been matched to Dr. Quillen, his staff, or the cleaning crew. The blackmailer's call had been traced back to a disposable phone. And currently, the only lead was finding the missing cat in Palmer Lynch's garage. But there was no evidence that proved Lynch had been the catnapper.

Skye blew her lips in and out, then asked, “Why do you think that the burglar took Belle as opposed to one of the other animals?”

“My guess is that it was because she was the focus of the article in the newspaper.” Dr. Quillen sighed. “The piece stated that Belle was a pedigree and trained for my pet therapy practice, so I would assume the catnapper figured she was the most valuable animal here.”

“But her therapy partner had a pedigree and was highly trained, too,” Skye said thoughtfully. “And he was in the
Star
as well.”

“True.” Dr. Quillen nodded. “And now that you mention it, the dog kennels have an exterior door, so it's easier in and out than the cattery, which has no exit other than the one into the clinic itself.”

“I noticed that the kennels only have a latching system, but the sliding doors to the cat's quarters have a keypad,” Skye added. “Which means he or she had to force his or her way through two entry points.”

“The glass to Belle's door was smashed to smithereens,” Dr. Quillen confirmed. “The repairman just fixed it today.”

“So why choose the cat?” Wally murmured, tapping his pen on the table.

“Maybe because the catnapper was deathly afraid of dogs?” Skye murmured. “Virginia told me that Palmer's mother bred prize-winning German shepherds, and that one day when he and his mother were having some sort of argument, a couple of her dogs attacked him.”

“Considering that Belle was found in Lynch's garage, I'm now inclined to believe that Lynch probably was the catnapper.” Wally stood and started pacing. “Which leads us to the question of what did he want with so much ketamine?”

“If he planned to sell it, how was he going to distribute the drugs?” Skye pursed her lips. “The amount he demanded would be a lot for a small town to absorb.”

“Maybe he had a partner.” Wally shoved his hands in his pockets. “Maybe more than one.”

Scalded cats fear even cold water.

—THOMAS FULLER

A
fter Wally and Skye said good-bye to Dr. Quillen, they walked from the clinic into the parking lot. Skye slid a peek at her silent husband's profile. His jaw was clenched and the muscles in his arms were rigid. Something was definitely bothering him; she just wasn't sure what.

Wally opened Skye's car door, but before she could slip inside, he slid one arm around her waist and used the other to cup the back of her head. Instead of the usual tender kiss they exchanged in public or the passionate ones they shared in private, this time his lips branded her as his.

Skye was surprised by his sudden possessiveness, but she leaned into her husband's embrace. Was her pregnancy causing him to have some of the same insecurities that she was experiencing?

Several breathless minutes later, Wally settled her behind the wheel of the Bel Air, stroked her hair, and said, “Let's go grab some supper and catch up on our day. It feels like forever since this morning.”

“Where shall we go?” Skye asked, glancing at her watch. “It's past six, so the Feed Bag shouldn't be too crowded.”

“It will be a zoo.” Wally shook his head. “The Chamber of Commerce is meeting there, and I want an hour with you to myself before I have to go back to work.”

“Do you have other suspects to talk to tonight?”

“Yep. I need to do one more interview before calling it a day.” Wally leaned his forehead against Skye's. “I really don't have time to drive somewhere out of town, which leaves fast food as our only option.” He frowned. “I'm sorry we can't go to a nice restaurant.”

“I don't mind at all,” Skye reassured him, pressing a soft kiss to his chin. “In fact, I'm glad for the excuse to indulge in McDonald's French fries. I've had a craving for them for weeks.”

“Why didn't you swing by the drive-thru and get some?”

“Because I'm trying not to gain any more weight than necessary for the baby to be healthy.” She puffed out her cheeks and looked ruefully down at her stomach. “I already feel like a beach ball with legs and I still have over four months to go.”

“You look beautiful.” Wally rubbed his knuckles along her cheek. “I've always had to fight to keep men away from you, but now I need to use my nightstick to keep them off. One more longing glance from that damn vet and I was ready to throw him in jail just on principle.”

“Seriously?” Skye snickered incredulously. “Dr. Q is about as interested in me as Bingo is in attending obedience training.”

“He kept touching you.” The muscle in Wally's jaw tightened.

“He's a caregiver and was concerned about me because of the baby,” Skye explained. “Did you see his reaction when I suggested fixing him up with Abby? He lit up like a Roman candle.” She tilted her head. “Seriously, who are all these guys you think were interested in me?”

“Simon.” Wally held up a finger. “And your ex-fiancé.” He added a second finger. “And what's his name?” A third finger joined the other two. “That private investigator who pretended to be a reporter for the newspaper.”

“Kurt. And he was using me,” Skye protested. “Then there's Luc, who only came back to get my signature. Neither guy was really attracted to me.” She shrugged. “Not to mention that Emmy seems to have helped Simon recover pretty darn quickly from his heartbreak.”

“She's a diversion.” Wally crossed his arms. “He's still in love with you.”

Considering Simon had said something similar to her on the day of her wedding, Skye decided to ignore Wally's statement. Instead, maybe this was her chance to vent a little of her own jealousy.

“Well, I heard that Monday morning after the Legion break-in, Emmy's friend Chantal had trouble keeping her hands off of you,” Skye retorted.

May hadn't quite said that, but it would be interesting to see Wally's reaction to the accusation. With most people, her husband had a good poker face, but Skye could always tell when he was hiding something from her.

“Chantal was hysterical.” Wally's cheeks reddened. “I made it clear I was happily married.” His back stiffened. “It was nothing personal on her end, and I turned her over to Quirk as soon as I could.”

“I see.” Skye would have to quiz her mother a little more thoroughly. May hadn't been nearly as explicit as she should have been. “Then I guess we're even.” Skye's mild expression didn't reveal her thoughts. “We both need to work on our trust issues.”

Being a smart man, evidently Wally recognized a truce when one was offered. Leaning in for another quick kiss, he changed the subject and said, “I need to
pick something up at the station. I'll meet you at Mickey D's.”

Five minutes later, Skye swung into McDonald's, parked the Bel Air between two empty spots, and twisted the rearview mirror toward her. The car's air-conditioning wasn't working, and in order to cool off, she had to roll her window down. As a result, her curls were a tumbleweed of snarls and she quickly brushed her hair into a ponytail. While she was at it, she applied concealer under her eyes and added a light coat of pink gloss.

Getting out of the car, Skye tried to smooth the wrinkles from her slacks and maternity top, but it had been a long day and the creases wouldn't budge. Her rubber-soled loafers, the only shoes that didn't make her ankles swell, squeaked annoyingly as she crossed the asphalt and she grimaced.

She certainly sympathized with Loretta, who wasn't happy about being pregnant again so soon. She really couldn't wait to be able to get back into her regular wardrobe. It may not be high-end, cutting-edge fashion, but it looked better on her than what she was currently forced to wear.

Maybe she needed to expend a little more effort in finding maternity clothes in her size that were more flattering. She knew they existed. She'd seen pictures in magazines. But she'd probably have to shop closer to Chicago to find them.

The glare blinded her when Skye pushed open the door, but once her eyes adjusted, she made her way to her favorite rear corner booth. While she waited for Wally, she dug a pencil stub and a crumpled receipt out of her purse. Flipping over the slip of paper, she itemized what she wanted to tell him. Then she made a second list of questions to ask him.

Just as she finished writing, she heard the automatic door swoosh open and saw him stride into the restaurant.
Hurriedly, she slid out of the booth and met him near the front.

They placed their order and the girl behind the counter took the twenty that Wally handed her and said, “Ms. Denison, I heard you were having a baby. Congratulations.”

Skye recognized the clerk from the high school, but couldn't remember her name. “Thanks. Are you ready for the end of the year?”

“I guess so.” The girl's face reddened, and she mumbled as she turned to get their food. “But Ms. Cormorant is failing me. I know I'm not as smart as a lot of the kids in her class, but she seems to have it in for me.”

Normally, Skye wouldn't automatically believe that a teacher was showing favoritism. However, knowing Pru, the girl might have a point. Corny was famous for being harder on some students than others.

Touching the teen's hand, Skye said, “If there's one thing I've learned, it's not to compare myself to the best that other folks can do. Instead, I measure myself against the best that I can do.”

“That doesn't help me pass the course.” The girl's chin sank to her chest. “I'll probably have to go to summer school unless I ace Ms. C's final essay.”

“That's too bad.” Skye made a sympathetic face. “But maybe you'll pull through in the end.” She bit her lip. She really didn't have time to take on anything extra, but she just couldn't ignore the girl's predicament. Mentally rearranging her schedule, she said, “Do you want me to take a look at your paper before you turn it in? I was pretty good in English.”

“That would be awesome.” The girl's eyes brightened as she filled their order. “Can I drop it by your office tomorrow morning?”

“Of course.” Skye moved out of the way as Wally reached around her to grab the heavy tray. “Stick it
under my door. I won't be at the high school until the afternoon.”

Waving good-bye, Skye headed back to the table she'd claimed earlier, slid into the booth, and glanced across at Wally as he joined her. In the harsh fluorescent lights, the skin around his eyes was papery looking, and deep lines bracketed his mouth. He was clearly exhausted.

She reached across and squeezed his hands. “How are you holding up?”

“Murder investigations are always tough.” He shrugged. “The first few days are so crucial, but with limited resources, there just aren't enough hours in the day to pursue every lead in a timely manner.”

“And my being pregnant isn't helping matters.” Skye blew out a breath. “You really don't have to worry about me. I won't overdo it.”

“Right.” Wally grunted his disbelief, then added, “Still, nothing is more important than you and the baby.”

“I know. But I don't want to get in the way of your job.” Skye took a napkin and wiped off the tabletop. “Forget about me.”

“Never.” He looked at her with a goofy smile. “I couldn't if I wanted to.”

“Aw, me, too. About you, I mean,” Skye assured him, then said, “Look, there's no reason for you to take off work and go to the doctor's with me tomorrow morning. It's just a routine appointment and I can get Mom to go with me.”

“No way.” Wally ran a knuckle down her cheek. “Dr. Johnson is doing an ultrasound and said she'd be able to confirm your due date this visit. I'm not missing that.”

“Well, if you really want to, you know I'd rather you were there than my mother.” Skye blew Wally a kiss, then said, “Let me tell you about my visit with the Dooziers.” Before he recovered his usual mild expression, she saw
disappointment flash in his eyes and realized that he had wanted to take a break from the case, so she hurriedly added, “Unless you want to eat first.”

“Nah. You're right.” Wally leaned forward, his forearms on the table. “I need to get to Dr. Zello's house before it's too late. His wife said he had to leave for an important appointment in Laurel at eight.”

Skye put Wally's Big Mac, fries, and soda in front of him, then lowering her voice, she said. “Do you think Dr. Zello's going to that private club Pru mentioned? Maybe we should follow him.”

“If I'm not satisfied with his answers, I plan to.” A line formed between Wally's brows. “I want to get a court order for the membership list. But when I talked to Wraige again, he wouldn't even tell me the name, let alone the address, of the place. And I don't have enough to legally compel him to answer my questions about it.”

“How about Palmer's phone?” Skye opened the wrapper of her Quarter Pounder, moved the sandwich over, then squeezed a packet of ketchup onto the makeshift plate. “Maybe you could find the club's number on it.”

“Martinez went through both his home and cell records.” Wally peeled the paper from a straw and shoved it through the plastic lid. “There was nothing that indicated the club even has a phone.”

“Shoot!” Unable to resist any longer, Skye selected a fry, dragged it through the ketchup, and took a bite of the salty goodness.

“Nate Turner has an alibi and he claimed he had no idea what I was talking about when I brought up Lynch's club.” Wally took a long drink of his Coke. “And unless Turner is a much better actor than I give him credit for, he was surprised at Lynch's sexual taste and was telling me the truth.”

“Well, hell!” Skye wiped her fingers on a napkin
before picking up her burger. “Did the crime scene techs find anything useful?”

She bit into the Quarter Pounder as she waited for his reply. The greasy indulgence was heavenly. She licked her fingers and stared at Wally expectantly.

“No unexpected prints at the scene,” Wally reported. “It will be quite a while before we get the DNA results from the tissue under Belle's claws. The lab the county uses is cheap and slow.”

“Did the crime scene techs check Belle's collar?” Skye asked.

“For trace,” Wally answered. “But there wasn't anything there.”

“That wasn't what I meant.” Skye wrinkled her nose. “I meant maybe something had been concealed inside the collar.” When Wally raised a brow, she shrugged. “Hey. I saw it on a TV show.”

“I'll ask them to take a look, but I'm sure they already did.” Wally finished his Big Mac, washed it down with a slug of soda, then added, “And that other guy Turner and Zello were talking with after church was clueless.” Wally gave Skye a twisted smile. “Both figuratively and literally.”

“Who does that leave?” Skye asked, playing with the straw in her drink.

“The vic's ex-wife.” Wally polished off his last few fries. “And his employees.”

“Anything on the Legion's break-in?” Skye dabbed her lips with her napkin.

“You tell me.” Wally pushed the debris from their meal to one side of the table. “What did you and the next Agatha Christie find out at the Dooziers?”

Skye picked up the wrinkled receipt that she'd used to make notes and grimaced. What was wrong with her? She sure wasn't her usual organized self. That Skye
would have had a fresh legal pad, her favorite pen, and index cards.

Dismayed by the change, Skye said, “Yolanda is in town. She's engaged and she brought her fiancé, AJ Martino, who is also her boss, to meet the family. They were only supposed to be here one night, but Earl drove his Doozier Dozer over AJ's new Porsche.”

“Quite a welcome to the family.” Wally couldn't quite hide his grin. “Did you find out why Earl's car was in the Legion's parking lot after it closed?”

“The Regal wouldn't start. Earl claimed it had to have been messed with because it was running perfectly when they got there,” Skye reported. “They called for a crony of Earl's to come to get it going, and hitched a ride home from some friends.”