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“Kat.” Julie looked startled to see her standing on her doorstep. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought of something.” Kat peered past her shoulder. “Is your aunt here?”
“She had to go back to work after dinner.”
Kat relaxed a little. She didn’t think Elsa would appreciate her dredging up Carolyn’s murder for the second time that day.
Julie fiddled with the doorknob. “So, do you want to come in?”
“Yes, please. You didn’t have plans, did you?”
Julie shook her head. “Brianna’s still grounded.”
Kat was tempted to ask whether she had any other friends but decided now wasn’t the time to get into that.
She followed Julie into the living room, drawing the attention of the three cats present. “I’d like to take a look at your mom’s sweater.”
Julie stopped short. “You would?”
“Yes. You were picking what looked to be animal fur out of it earlier, and it occurred to me when I got home that it might have been white. Do you remember that?”
“No.” Julie frowned. “But I wasn’t really paying attention.”
Kat took a step toward her and softened her voice. “Julie, I’m not sure if it means anything, but if there are hairs from a foreign animal on that sweater, it might be something to look at in terms of figuring out who could have been at your house that Saturday four years ago.”
Julie didn’t react immediately. When she did, she yelped as if Kat had backhanded her. “You’re saying whoever killed Mom brought that fur with him and left it on her sweater?”
“Well, it probably wasn’t quite that deliberate. But if there are foreign hairs on your mom’s sweater, it might be possible to trace them back to her killer.” It was also possible they’d end up on a wild-goose chase. “It’s a long shot, but it’s worth looking into, don’t you think?”
“Gosh, yes.” Julie nearly tripped over her own feet as she charged out of the room. “I’ll be right back.”
Kat sat down next to one of the Russian Blues curled up on the couch. Earth or Fire or whoever leaned forward to sniff her leg. She must have passed inspection because he laid his chin back down on his tail and closed his eyes.
Julie returned less than a minute later, the cardigan clutched in her hands. “Here.” She lobbed the sweater at Kat but ended up aiming wrong. The cardigan landed on top of a snoozing Earth.
Startled out of his catnap, Earth leaped up, his back arched in a fighting position, and his tail puffed up to three times its normal size. Once he realized what had happened, he tilted his nose up in offense, gave the sweater a dirty look, and ambled off, his tail still twitching.
Kat retrieved the cardigan. She could feel the energy sluicing off of Julie in waves as the teenager plopped onto the couch next to her. For Julie’s sake, she desperately hoped something came of this.
“These dark furs could have originated from either Voldemort or one of your aunt’s cats, so I’m not sure what they can tell us,” she began.
Julie hung on Kat’s words, her head bobbing up and down.
A lighter strand caught Kat’s eye. She plucked it from the fabric and held it up for inspection. “Here’s a white one. It’s shorter and finer than I would expect from a human hair. I’m guessing it came from an animal.” She looked at Julie. “Do you remember if any of your mom’s friends had a white pet?”
Julie’s brow furrowed. “I don’t really know.”
“There are several white furs on here,” Kat said, picking them out. That reassured her somewhat that their presence wasn’t a complete fluke.
“I don’t remember Mom mentioning any white dogs,” Julie said.
“What about cats?”
Julie shook her head, huffing in frustration.
Something Susan Treeger had said flitted through Kat’s mind. “What about Pizza?”
“Pizza?” Julie queried, glancing toward the kitchen.
“Pizza the First,” Kat clarified. “Susan, Mrs. Treeger, said she had a cat who died a couple years ago named Pizza.”
“Oh, you’re talking about Mackenzie’s cat Pizza. I remember him. But he was kind of brownish.”
“Did he have any white spots?”
Julie thought for a moment. “Yeah, a tiny one, right on his chest.”
Kat studied the three strands pinched between her forefinger and thumb. Could all three of these hairs have fallen out of the same tiny white patch?
Julie sucked in a breath, her body shooting off the couch. “Hold up.”
Kat swiveled toward her. “You thought of something?”
“Brianna has a white cat.”
“Brianna?”
“They’re Brianna’s mom’s cats, really. Turtle and Tucker.” Julie met Kat’s gaze, her face draining of color. “They’re both pure white, and they shed everywhere.”
Kat considered that. “So you could have picked up this fur from Brianna.”
Julie shook her head. “I’ve never shown Brianna Mom’s sweater.”
“Well, if this is her cats’ fur, it had to have been transferred to your mom’s sweater after you moved to Cherry Hills.”
“I guess . . . unless . . .”
“Unless what?”
Julie looked at her, her eyes threatening to pop out of their sockets. “Brie used to live in Seattle.”
Kat stilled, certain she must have misheard.
Then she remembered the parking sticker she’d spotted on Brianna’s car. She smacked her palm against her forehead, wondering why she hadn’t put the connection together sooner. Between that parking sticker and the signs she’d seen erected along Ms. Dearborn’s street, she should have realized herself that Brianna had once lived in Seattle.
“You don’t think Brianna killed Mom, do you?” Julie asked, a tremor in her voice.
“I don’t know.” Kat’s mind was whirling, but she couldn’t seem to latch on to any specific conclusions. “I don’t know what to think.”
Julie poked at her lip ring with her tongue. “But we didn’t know each other in Seattle.”
Kat forced herself to focus. Even if Brianna had known the Conways four years ago, did it make sense to suspect the girl of murder? Her obvious disdain for adults aside, she would have been eleven or twelve at the time. It seemed unlikely that Carolyn would have invited a twelve-year-old over to the house when her own twelve-year-old daughter was away at a sleepover. And it seemed even more unlikely that a child would be responsible for an act so monstrous.
But that didn’t mean Brianna wasn’t linked to Carolyn’s killer somehow.
“What about your mothers?” Kat asked, sitting up straighter. “Did your mothers know each other?”
Julie frowned. “I don’t think so. But maybe.”
“Well, there’s one way to find out.” Kat jumped off the couch, prompting the two Russian Blues still in the room to raise their heads. “Let’s go.”
