The Super Spies and the Cat Lady Killer (4 page)

BOOK: The Super Spies and the Cat Lady Killer
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“We didn't kill the Cat Lady,” Lacey whined.

Klonsky turned and glared at them. “That's what they all say.”

Klonsky's dark eyes bored into the girls. They were bottomless pools of anger. Sarah gulped as she took in his size. His shoulders filled the front seat and his head, even with short hair, brushed the ceiling of the car.

“It's true.” Sarah clenched her trembling hands.

“You ever heard of death row?” Klonsky glowered at Lacey.

“Yeah.”

“The majority of those guys say they're innocent, too.” He turned away from the girls and fiddled with the police radio.

Lacey began wailing. “We're going to be on death row!”

“Stop crying, we're innocent. We didn't do anything.” Sarah glared at the back of Klonsky's head. “He's just trying to scare you.”

“It's a good thing too. Have you seen what those inmates wear? Bright orange jumpsuits, they are the ugliest things I've ever seen. Orange is definitely not my color,” Jackie grimaced.

Sarah made a face at Jackie and nudged Lacey, whispering, “We didn't do anything. Remember CSI? The evidence tells the story.”

“What are you, a detective?” Jackie asked.

“Shut up.”

“Don't worry. We'll get that CSI guy to help us,” Jackie said.

Sarah gave Jackie one of her ‘are you brain dead' looks. “That CSI guy you're talking about is a fictitious character on a TV show.” She cocked her head and nudged Lacey. “No one is going to jail. We didn't do anything.”

Lacey nodded and sniffed. “Okay.”

“Inside,” Klonsky said as he opened his door. When he rose out of the car, it seemed to sigh in relief.
Opening the back door for the girls, he towered over them as they struggled to climb out. His sheer bulk blocked out the sun.

“I'll take the cuffs off when we get inside.”

Sarah stared at the building housing the police department of Harrisburg. It was a two-story, red brick building with large, white-paned windows. The panes on the windows reminded Sarah of bars on a cell door. She shivered at the thought of going inside.

Once inside the station, a separate officer was assigned to each girl. The officer in charge of
Sarah led her to a separate interrogation room, removed her cuffs, and left her alone.

Sarah slouched in a folding chair, waiting for her aunt and uncle to arrive. The air conditioning had turned the room into a deep freeze, and the chair felt cold against her legs. She shivered. Goosebumps appeared on her arms and she rubbed them while she stared at the gray walls.

The walls in the tiny room closed in on her, and she suddenly had trouble breathing. Looking at the big mirror placed in the middle of the wall, she studied her reflection. She noticed her pale face and her shock filled eyes. Her lips were slightly parted as she took shallow breaths. Focusing on her image, she took some deeper breaths, easing her panicky feelings.

“This is just great,” she said to her reflection. “Just when summer vacation was starting to get fun.”

Sarah shifted her weight, and her mind wandered. Why would anyone want to murder the Cat Lady? Crossing her legs, she drummed her fingers on the table as she thought about the old woman.
It doesn't make any sense. She didn't have any friends, except for the cats, and she never left home.

Just then the door opened, and Sarah's uncle walked in. All thoughts of the Cat Lady flew from her mind. Sarah noticed Uncle Walt's wispy hair was standing on end. Whenever he got stressed he tugged at what was left of his hair. It always ended up sticking straight up. He resembled a balding Einstein.

Uncle Walt was a highly intelligent, congenial man who had a hard time remembering why he was sent to the grocery store. He would often call Aunt June after he had gotten there to ask what was needed. Sarah snickered at the thought and decided he appeared to be more of an absentminded Einstein.

Sighing to release some of the tension in her body, Sarah realized she was glad her parents weren't here. Dealing with her uncle would be much easier. “Hey, Uncle Walt.”

“Hi, honey. What is going on here?” he asked, concern etched on his face.

“We found the Cat Lady's body.” Sarah stood and suddenly grasped the table, her legs felt like jelly.

“Who's the Cat Lady?”

“Mrs. Fedewa.”

Her uncle reached out to Sarah, and she ran into his comforting embrace. She stifled the sob trying to escape her throat.

“Are you all right?” her uncle murmured into her hair.

Sarah nodded.

“Okay, tell me everything. Start from the beginning.”

They sat down in the folding chairs.
He put his arm around Sarah in a protective gesture. She snuggled next to him, grateful for his warmth.

She took a deep breath. “Well, Lacey, Jackie, and I were playing Truth or Dare.”

“And?”

“Jackie dared me to ring the Cat Lady's doorbell.”

Her uncle chuckled. “I'm sure you didn't turn that dare down.”

“You got that right.” Sarah gave him a lopsided grin. ” So, when I rang her doorbell, I looked in the window and saw someone lying on the floor.”

“What did you do then?”

“I ran to the big picture window to see who it was. I figured she was the Cat Lady.”

“Okay, so what did you do then?”

“I ran back to the door, went inside, and that's when I saw all the blood.” Sarah shuddered at the memory.

“Why did you go in the house?” Uncle Walt frowned and spun in his seat to look at her.

“I don't know,” she said, her voice cracking. “I didn't know she was dead. I thought maybe I could help her.”

“You should never go into someone's home like that.” Shaking his head, he placed his index finger on the table to make his point. He pressed so hard Sarah saw the white crescent above the pink on his fingernail.

“I bet you would've done the same thing.”

“It doesn't matter what I would've done. I'm not a fifteen-year-old girl,” he said with a stern look.

“I was trying to help.” Sarah's stomach fluttered and she shifted uneasily in her chair.

“Do you realize the killer could've still been there?”

“I didn't know she'd been murdered!”

“Okay, okay, but use your head next time.”

“I hope there won't be a next time.”

Her uncle groaned and tugged at the hair on top of his head. “Honey, I just don't want anything to happen to you or your sister. How would I tell your parents if something did happen? It worries me when you take risks like this.”

“I know, but I honestly didn't think we were in danger.” Sarah shifted in her seat and gazed at her uncle. “I didn't see the blood until I was inside.”

“Your heart's in the right place.” He sighed, searching for the right words. “Sarah, you're a courageous girl. I admire that about you, but you need to be more careful.”

“I bet if the Cat Lady had been alive, and we'd saved her life, you'd be telling me I did the right thing.”

He gave Sarah a rueful smile. “You're probably right. The mistake you made here is that you didn't call the police right away.”

Sarah frowned, and stared down at her hands. “Maybe you're right.”

“Maybe?”

“All right, you're right.”

“So, you discovered the body. That's why you girls are here. At least they don't think you murdered her.”

“They do think that.” Sarah squirmed in her chair.

“What? Why in the world would they think you girls murdered Mrs. Fedewa?”

“When I showed Jackie and Lacey the body, the police pulled up in the driveway.”

“You mean you went back into the house a second time?” Uncle Walt leaned forward in his chair and stared at Sarah.

“Well, yeah. Those guys didn't believe me, so I had to prove to them I saw a dead body.”

“And?” Uncle Walt was beginning to look ill.

“The sirens scared us. Lacey tripped and got blood all over her shirt.”

He leaned back in his chair and groaned. Both of his hands began tugging at his hair. “Go on.”

Sarah glanced at her uncle and suppressed a nervous grin. His hair was standing straight up. He looked like an aging punk rocker refusing to accept he was past his prime. The only things missing were the leather pants, tattoos, and the pierced ears and nose.

“Well, then we ran and hid in the basement.”

“Why in the world would you girls hide in the basement?” Uncle Walt pulled his hands from his hair and flailed them wildly in the air.

“I don't know,” Sarah threw her hands up. “We just panicked.”

“All right.” Standing, he patted Sarah's arm. “I want you to tell your story to the police. Just tell the truth, and everything will be all right.” He walked toward the door.

“Uncle Walt?”

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “Yeah?”

“I'm so glad you're here. This is all kind of scary.”

He pursed his lips. “I'm surprised to hear you say that, Sarah. Between my two nieces, you're the brave one.”

Sarah gazed down at her hands. “Well, I've never been handcuffed before.”

He turned toward her, clenching his fists. “The police handcuffed you?”

“Yeah.”

“I don't believe it,” he shook his head and frowned.

“Yeah, I couldn't believe it either. Especially after they searched us and didn't find any weapons.”

“They searched you?”

“Yeah.”

“That is no way to treat young girls.”

“Tell me about it.”

He shook his head. His face turned a frightening red color.

“Are you all right? You look like you're going to puke.”

Her uncle took a few deep breaths and tried to smile at Sarah, but it looked more like a grimace. He pivoted and walked out the door, signaling for someone to come in. Officer Klonsky loomed in the doorway.

Sarah's heart skipped a beat when she compared her uncle to Klonsky. Uncle Walt seemed weak and shriveled.

“Sarah's ready to tell her story,” Uncle Walt said.

“I'm ready to hear it.” Klonsky sat down across from Sarah. Another officer followed Klonsky and sat next to him. “This is Officer Wilson; he's going to listen in.”

Her uncle nodded. “Are these girls under arrest?”

“No. It's standard procedure for us to question anyone we find at a crime scene. Especially a homicide,” Wilson said.

Sarah studied Klonsky as Officer Wilson answered her uncle's questions. She shuddered as she remembered how his large, calloused hands searched her for weapons. Looking at his face, her heart skipped a beat. He wore a permanent scowl and his dark, probing eyes stared at her uncle and then Sarah as if he could read their minds. Warning lights went off in Sarah's head, and goose bumps reappeared on her skin, only this time it wasn't because of the air conditioning. A shiver ran down her spine, and she quickly turned her attention back to her uncle and Officer Wilson.

“Then why were they searched and handcuffed?” Uncle Walt asked, keeping his temper in check, but Sarah could tell he was mad, because the little vein in his forehead was bulging.

“Again, standard procedure. At the time, we had to make sure they didn't have any weapons on them.”

Her uncle sighed. “Okay, go ahead.”

“Sarah, how do you know the deceased?” Klonsky leaned forward and stared into her eyes.

She gulped. “Just from what kids have said about her around the neighborhood.”

“Tell me how you happened to be in her basement.”

Sarah repeated her story for the officer. He jotted down a few notes as she spoke, but he never interrupted her.

“So, you girls just stumbled onto the body while you were pulling a prank?” Klonsky asked, with a sneer.

“Yeah.”

“You don't expect us to believe that, do you?”

Officer Wilson stared at Klonsky, shock etched on his face.

“It's the truth.” Sarah hid her trembling hands in her lap.

Sarah's uncle put his arm around her shoulders.

“Did you have any kind of relationship with the deceased prior to being in her basement?”

“No. Like I said, we only knew her from stories we heard around the neighborhood.”

“Are you in the habit of harassing your neighbors?”

“What kind of question is that?” her uncle demanded. “These girls don't live here permanently, they're from out of town. They don't even know Mrs. Fedewa.”

BOOK: The Super Spies and the Cat Lady Killer
12.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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