What the Cat Saw (26 page)

The trustee’s eyes widened. She gave a tiny sigh. Her demeanor was that of a woman whose fears have been confirmed. She pressed her lips together and moved purposefully into the office.

As Blythe stepped inside Abby’s office, Dugan firmly closed the door after them.

Grace turned toward Abby. “What have you got in there?”

“I don’t have anything—”

The door opened. Dugan walked out. “Miss Andrews, come this way.”

Tears brimmed in Abby’s violet eyes. She clung to Hollis’s arm. “Why? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I have a few questions.”

Hollis Blair stepped forward. He was combative. “Abby doesn’t have to answer your questions.”

Dugan nodded. Her voice was mild. “In the search of Miss Andrews’s office, a diamond-and-gold necklace was discovered in a filing cabinet. Miss Webster has identified the necklace as the one taken from her desk. If Miss Andrews prefers, we can take her into custody for questioning in regard to grand theft.” She turned to
Blythe. “Now my officers need to search the cabin where Miss Andrews resides. Do we have your permission to do so?”

“Yes.” Blythe’s voice was thin. She didn’t look toward Abby. She turned to Louise. “Get a key. Take them there.” Her words were clipped, brooked no disagreement. She didn’t wait for an answer, but swung away, headed for her office.

Louise Spear stared after Blythe. Louise’s face was pale and apprehensive. She was obviously upset. But she had her orders and she had taken orders for many years.

Dugan nodded at Sergeant Fisher and the plump woman officer. “You know what to look for. Call me if anything is found.”

The police officers followed Louise into her office.

Abby took a step toward Dugan. “I didn’t steal that awful necklace. Someone put it in the cabinet.” She looked at Hollis in appeal. “I didn’t take it.”

Hollis Blair was grim. “Of course you didn’t take it. I’ll get a lawyer for you.”

“I shouldn’t need a lawyer.” Abby’s thin face, twisted in despair, was no longer pretty, but desperate and frightened. “It’s all a lie.”

Dugan was brisk. “We will take your statement at the station. If you wish to have counsel present, that is your prerogative. We’ll go out the front entrance. This way.” She gestured toward the main hallway.

Abby shot a panicked look at Hollis.

He gave her a reassuring nod.

Dugan and Abby walked together toward the main hall, Hollis a step behind. Dugan was purposeful, striding fast. Abby’s shoulders hunched as she hurried to keep pace.

Grace looked puzzled. Her expression was distant, as if her thoughts were far away and not pleasant. She moved swiftly toward
the main hall. Peter Owens glanced toward Louise’s office. “I guess the show’s over for now.” He moved toward the rear stairs.

Cole Hamilton spoke in a soft aside to Robbie. “All these new people were a mistake. I told Marian it didn’t look right for a man to bring a pretty girl in as soon as he gets a new job. It wasn’t like there wasn’t a pretty young thing in the office. Why, Anne Nesbitt was pretty enough to please anyone. He noticed her. What man wouldn’t? But a nice girl. Now I wonder if Abby set her car on fire so there wouldn’t be another young girl around.”

He intended his comment for Robbie, but Nela was near enough to overhear.

Robbie’s eyes gleamed in his old-young, pleased face. “A lust for diamonds. They say some women can’t resist them. But vandalism to serve as a smoke screen was clever. I wouldn’t have thought Abby was that clever.”

Francis Garth’s heavy voice was stolid. “She’s nice. Pleasant. Pretty if you like them young and callow. But not clever. She doesn’t have the nerve to be a vandal—or a murderer.”

Francis’s words thrummed in Nela’s mind as she returned to Chloe’s office, sank into the chair behind the desk. She agreed with Francis. And that put the question squarely to her. What was she going to do now?

From down the hall, Grace’s strident voice carried clearly. “What’s the deal? You gave the cops carte blanche to search. First Abby’s office, now the cabin. How’d you know—” A faraway door slam cut off Grace’s voice in midsentence. Nela wondered how forthcoming Blythe would be with her sister.

Nela knew the answer to Grace’s question. Someone had placed a letter on Blythe’s desk. Obviously, the message suggested a search of Abby’s office for the missing necklace.

But Nela knew more than Blythe or any of the others. Nela had put the necklace on Blythe’s desk Monday night. Some time after Nela’s foray into the building Monday night, the necklace was removed. Today an anonymous letter on Blythe’s desk indicated the necklace could be found in Abby’s office.

The sound of voices and footsteps faded in the hallway. Finally, there was silence. Abby Andrews was in a police cruiser, on her way to the police station.

Nela retrieved her purse. She slipped the strap over one shoulder. She walked down the hall to the staff exit, car keys in one hand, cell phone in the other.

15

T
he connection was surprisingly clear. “…don’t know if you remember me, Chloe. This is Steve Flynn for the
Clarion
.”

Chloe’s husky voice burbled with delight. “How sweet! I love the
Clarion
. You know that feature you do every Sunday, the Craddock Connection? That’s the nicest thing, stories about everyday people like firemen and teachers and bricklayers. I loved the one about the lady at the nursing home who was turning a hundred and nobody knew she’d been a nurse on Corregidor during WWII. It just makes you think,” Chloe Farley said solemnly. A pause and she rushed ahead, “I’m from LA and you can live in an apartment house and never know anybody. Nela always told me everybody has a story. Instead, most newspapers just write about politics. Of course, Craddock has a few drawbacks. I get tired of roosters crowing. I never heard a rooster ’til I came to Craddock but there’s one in the field next to Leland’s trailer. I’ll bet you want to do a story about Leland
and me and our trip. Oh, you can’t believe the water here in Tahiti. It’s like looking through blue glass and the shells—”

Steve tried to divert the flood. “When you get back, we’ll do a big story. Right now I want to ask about Marian Grant’s fall down her apartment steps.”

“Marian’s fall?” There was no hint of uneasiness or wariness in Chloe’s froggy tone. “That came as such a surprise. Why, she was so graceful—”

N
ela turned the heater up full blast, but the VW was icy cold. Yet there was a deeper chill in her thoughts as she called the
Clarion
, gave Steve’s extension number. Once she spoke, there was no turning back. She wasn’t surprised when the message came on:
I am either away from my desk or engaged in another call
…

She waited until the ping. “Steve, it’s Nela.” She was brisk. “Blythe got an anonymous letter this morning, saying the necklace was hidden in Abby’s office. Blythe called the police and they found the necklace in a filing cabinet. Dugan’s taken Abby to the police station. I’m on my way there now. I’ll tell Dugan how I found the necklace in Marian’s purse and that I brought the necklace to Haklo Monday night and left it on Blythe’s desk. I won’t mention you.” She clicked off the phone, put the VW in gear.

S
teve ignored the call-waiting beep.

“…hard to imagine Marian falling. She had an air, you know. Why, it would be easier to imagine Tallulah Bankhead in a pinafore.” A throaty gurgle. “My gram thought Tallulah Bankhead was hilarious. Gram loved to quote her and Bette Davis. People would be
surprised if they knew how women told it how they saw it even then.” It was as if she spoke of a time far distant. “Of course, Marian never talked like that. Marian was serious.” Chloe drawled the word. “But that’s all right.” Her husky voice was generous. “Marian was
somebody
. You knew that the minute you met her. I even had that feeling staying in her apartment. And Jugs is a sweetheart, which shows she had a soft side. If you need a quote, I’d call Louise Spear or Cole Hamilton. They’d known her forever. Anyway, got to go, the catamaran’s ready…”

Steve replaced the phone. If there was any guile involved in Chloe Farley’s discursiveness, he’d find a pinafore to wear. So how and where did Nela come up with a skateboard on Marian’s steps? He didn’t want to ask her again. Her refusal to explain had been definite. Why?

He tussled with the question as he punched listen to retrieve the message from the call he’d missed.

Y
ou can sit there.” The policeman—or maybe he was a detective because he didn’t wear a uniform—slouched to a seat on the other side of a utilitarian metal desk. There were nine or ten similar desks across the room, some with occupants, most empty.

Nela remained standing. “I’m sorry.” She was polite but firm. “I have to talk to Detective Dugan.”

“She’s busy. I’ll take down the information. I’m Detective Morrison.” He gave her a swift, admiring glance, then his narrow face smoothed into polite expectation. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

A door rattled open behind her. Quick steps thudded on the wooden floor.

Morrison looked past her. “Yo, Steve. Haven’t seen you move this
fast since they handed out free gumdrops at the county extension office.”

“Mokie.” But Steve’s voice was abstracted and he was looking at Nela.

She half turned to see the now familiar freckled face and bright blue eyes.

He stopped beside her. “I came as soon as I got your message.”

She was glad and sad. Glad to know he would be with her. Sad to know she was going to cause him trouble. “You don’t have to stay. You don’t have anything to do with any of it.” The words were quick.

He gave her a swift, lopsided grin. “I signed on Monday night. I did what I did—and I’m damn glad I did. But you’re right. Katie has to know.”

Mokie Morrison was looking from one to the other, his brown eyes curious and intent. “Sounds like an episode in a soap. Not that I watch soaps.” The disclaimer was hasty. “My ex loved
As the World Turns
, still in mourning for it.”

“I can’t get in to see her.” Nela’s voice was anxious.

Steve turned to Mokie. “Tell Katie we’ve got stuff she needs to know now.”

T
he office was small. Thin winter sunlight slanted through open blinds. Katie Dugan’s sturdy frame was replicated by the shadow that fell across the legal pad and folders open on her desk. The office was impersonal, no mementos on the desktop, a map of Craddock on one wall, a map of Oklahoma and a bulletin board with wanted circulars, notes, and department directives on the other. Two metal filing cases. The detective’s face was impassive as she listened and took notes.

There was tight silence when they finished.

Nela was intensely aware of Steve’s nearness. They sat side by side, separated by only a few inches, on worn wooden chairs that faced Dugan’s desk.

Dugan’s cool gaze settled on Steve. “Why should I believe you”—a flicker toward Nela—“or her?”

Steve was affable. “How does it help either one of us to lie?” He retrieved his cell phone, touched, pushed it across Dugan’s desk. “Note the date and time. Ditto the next pic. Maybe enhanced details will prove one was taken at the Haklo staff entrance, the other in Blythe Webster’s office. Nela was your main suspect until the necklace was found in Abby’s office. If Nela had kept quiet, she and her sister would be off your radar. Right?”

There was a touch of frost in Dugan’s voice. “I’m not smart enough to see the possibility Abby Andrews was picked to be a fall guy?”

Nela felt a sickening swoop of disappointment even though she’d expected Dugan to be hostile.

Steve’s face looked suddenly tough. “You know me better than that. I know you look at everything. Always. We’re trying to help, Katie. Give us a chance.”

“Maybe it would have been a help if you people had told me the truth from the start.” Dugan’s broad face was equally tough. “I got news for you, and not the kind to put in the
Clarion
. Everybody’s on my radar. Including your girlfriend.” Her cold gaze moved to Nela. “Maybe you found the necklace in the purse. Or maybe your sister asked you to take care of it, but you got cold feet. Maybe—”

Her phone rang. She glanced at caller ID, picked up the receiver. “Dugan…So anybody who took a close look would find it?” She raised a dark eyebrow, looked sardonic. “Yeah. Check for prints. Want to bet nothing doing except for the owner’s? Test for a match
on the stair rail. Right. Thanks.” She replaced the receiver. She turned to Nela, went back to her attack. “Or maybe you decided the necklace was too damn hot to keep. I learned a long time ago that a pretty face doesn’t mean squat. You could be lying your head off. Or you could be telling the truth down the line. If you are, then something strange is going on out at Haklo and that necklace is at the heart of it. If you left the necklace on Blythe Webster’s desk, the water gets muddy. We found the necklace in a filing cabinet in Abby Andrews’s office. The tip came in an anonymous note left on Blythe Webster’s desk. Traffic has been pretty busy in and out of her office, apparently. The upshot? Anybody could be the perp.” She looked steadily at Nela. “Including you.”