Chapter 10
The Carlyle family of three had chosen to eat lunch at a small cafe in downtown Guthrie. Granny’s Table was one of the oldest restaurants in Guthrie and was one of their favorites. Tea-colored crocheted doilies adorned the refinished tops of antique end tables that nuzzled between the Victorian sofas in the lobby.
Linda rubbed her hand across the floral upholstery covering of the love seat and studied its intricately carved wooden legs. She was thinking how sad it is that furniture isn’t made as nicely nowadays. They waited in the little seating area for Cat to join them and watched as the wood burning fireplace pumped out waves of heat into the otherwise unheated dining room.
Glancing around the room, she studied the antique bar along the back dining room wall. It was made of rich mahogany and marble and was beautifully restored. Its shelves held antique bottles of all kinds. Cobalt blue, emerald green and pale yellow bottles lined the wooden shelves. Patrons sat on barstools along the gleaming bar and at individual wooden tables covered in white linen tablecloths. The original, wood-planked floors had also been restored and were complete with squeaks, moans and a high polyurethane sheen.
When Cat joined them, they each ordered their lunch then slipped into a quiet almost reflective mood. The cozy atmosphere appeared lost on the three as they ate their lunch in silence. Linda stared at her daughter as they ate, wondering what she was thinking. Linda watched as Cat’s brows scrunched together across her forehead giving her a vertical frown between her eyebrows, identical to Phillip’s.
“How are you feeling, Sugar?” Linda asked her timidly.
“I don’t know. Tired, I guess,” Cat said behind her napkin.
She patted her mouth with her linen napkin and laid it gently back on her lap. She took a nervous glance around the room and picked up her glass of iced tea.
“Anything else bugging you?” Linda asked in almost a whisper.
She too took a quick look around the room. She could sense Cat’s unease, but Cat held her tongue. Cat couldn’t decide if telling her parents about the drawing on her bathroom mirror was a good idea or not. They would only worry and probably insist that she stay at their house. She wasn’t about to move back in with her parents, she thought sourly. So she only partially lied.
“No. I’m just dreading going in to work tonight.”
She sat her tea glass down and rested her arms on the table. Then she told them about her conversation with Rick and how Pat had warned her that Rick was up to something. Linda and Phillip looked at each other and both silently worried that Cat was thinking of quitting her job. Linda’s silent sigh went unnoticed while listening to Cat ramble on and on about Rick. She wondered when her daughter was going to grow up and stay with a job longer than a few years. She had lost count of how many jobs Cat had held and how many times Cat had picked up and relocated since she moved away from home for the first time. It seemed to Linda that whenever things got rough, Cat would just quit. If the sky wasn’t always blue in Cat’s world, then she would turn tail and run. Where had she gotten that from? Cat was saying something to Phillip about a programming problem Phillip mentioned at his radio station when Linda mentally rejoined the conversation. Linda patted her mouth with her napkin and laid it across her half-eaten sandwich.
“Why don’t you try telling the truth for a change, Cat? We are your parents and we know when something is wrong. Tell us what is going on.”
Cat stopped chewing and swallowed hard. She pulled her tea glass to her lips with shaking hands and sat it back on the table nearly tipping it over as it caught the edge of her salad plate. She sat speechless looking at her mother, her face and neck turned red and splotchy. When Cat didn’t answer Phillip announced that they needed to get a move on. He claimed he had to have his engineer take a look at the satellite at the radio station. If the programming problem wasn’t fixed it was going cost the station thousands of dollars. He raised his hand to gain the attention of the young waitress, and she hurried over, carrying a pitcher of freshly brewed peach tea.
“Would you care for a refill or a to-go cup?” she asked sweetly.
“No, thank you, just the check please,” Phillip replied as he fished in his back pocket for his wallet. He handed his credit card to the girl before she handed him the check.
She got the message that they were in a hurry and scurried away. When she returned, the silence at the table of three was deafening. No one spoke as Phillip signed the bill, added a nice tip, stood and placed a hand on the back of both the women’s chairs. It was a clear sign to stand, so they did. Cat had chosen to walk the three cobblestone blocks to lunch from her apartment, and she intended to do the same on her return trip. Her parents had tried to discourage it, but since the tension was high they said their goodbyes and watched sadly as she began walking away.
Cat accepted the temperature change outside with a shiver and quickened her pace. She was not looking forward to winter. She hated the cold, and she hated the ice and snow even more. She rubbed her hands on her arms to warm herself as she walked through the alley to her apartment entrance. She couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching her. She looked around nervously as she climbed the old metal stairs and entered the outside door. She hurried down the hall to her door. Key in hand, she stuck the key in the lock. Just as she was turning the key and the knob, a hand touched her shoulder causing her to jump and shriek loudly.
“Oh, my goodness, Honey. I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m so sorry!” It was Miriam Thornton, Cat’s silver-haired neighbor.
She had lived in the apartment across the hall since her husband had died seventeen years ago. At seventy-three, life had just begun, she had told Cat once. She claimed the stairs kept her in shape, and she loved living downtown, watching people coming and going all the time. She and Cat would visit occasionally and sometimes even share a cup of coffee or tea when Cat made time for her, which wasn’t often enough for Miriam. She was lonely, and she thought the world of Cat.
“Oh, that’s alright, Miriam. I am sorry to be so jumpy. I never heard you, that’s all.”
She decided not to tell Miriam about what had happened the night before. She would only worry.
“Well, maybe I am getting sneakier in my old age,” Miriam joked. “If you have time, I would love to show you a quilt I’m working on for the Apples and Quilts Festival. It’s supposed to look like a Gaillardia flower, the State Flower of Oklahoma.” Miriam’s eyes sparkled as she described the quilt and how many hours she had put into it so far. Cat started to decline and say how busy she was, but she was always busy. She hated to disappoint her kind old friend and neighbor.
“Sure, I’d love to see it,” Cat said with a grin. “I have to get ready for work, but I have a little bit of time still. Let me take Hannah out, and then I’ll come right over.”
Miriam was delighted and hurried home to put on some coffee and slice up some coffee cake she had made just that morning. She had been hoping to run into Cat before she ate it all herself. Her timing couldn’t have been better. She was placing a matching cup and saucer next to the plate of coffee cake when Cat tapped on the door.
“Come on in,” Miriam called out.
Cat opened the door and stepped back in time. It always amazed her how Miriam’s spotless apartment looked like an upscale antique shop. Miriam had nothing but antiques in every room. Except for the overwhelming aroma of moth-balls seeping from the closets, Cat loved the place. The gol-den walls held black and white photos of departed ancestors and a few originals that Miriam’s husband had painted some thirty years earlier.
“Come on over and have a seat,” Miriam invited as she patted the cushioned chair next to hers. “I made some coffee cake this morning and took the liberty of dishing you up a slice.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have gone to any trouble,” Cat said, more out of habit than manners.
She knew that Miriam wouldn’t allow a guest in her home without offering food and drink. Cat had found it was easier to just accept Miriam’s hospitalities. Besides, Miriam was a wonderful cook and whatever was served was always delicious.
“Umm, it’s wonderful,” Cat remarked after the first bite. “When are you going to teach me to cook like this?”
“Anytime you are ready, I am willing. You know that,” Miriam replied as she beamed from the compliment. She poured a hot cup of coffee into a ceramic cup with blue forget-me-nots painted on the side. Cat took a sip and set the cup down gingerly onto the matching saucer as Miriam quizzed her about any potential beaus.
It was almost a ritual, Cat thought. Miriam the match-maker had tried to set her up several times, but Cat had always refused. Cat usually tried to steer the conversation another direction. Today she could use the quilt as the distraction.
“No, Ma’am. I’m afraid all the good ones are already taken,” Cat quipped.
Before Miriam could propose any romantic possibilities, Cat asked about the Gaillardia quilt, and Miriam seemed to forget momentarily about playing cupid.
“Well, it is coming along nicely,” Miriam beamed. “I have almost got it completely laid out. When you’re done with your dessert, I’ll show you.”
Miriam had the quilt pieces laid out on top of a paper pattern on top of the guest bed in her second bedroom. Cat listened intently to Miriam’s explanation of the quilting process and complimented her on her tedious work numerous times. Miriam seemed tickled by the attention.
“Thank you so much for the delicious cake and coffee, Miriam,” Cat said as she hugged her dear friend. “If you’re going to be free on Saturday, I was thinking of going over to the Bluegrass Festival. Would you care to join me?”
“Oh, Honey, I’d love to. That would be great!” Miriam exclaimed.
Cat thought she looked like she was near tears. Miriam laced her arm through Cat’s as they walked to the front door together. Miriam reminded Cat of her own grandmother who had died several years before. As Cat walked across the hallway to her apartment, she was thinking how grateful she was to have Miriam as a neighbor. Good neighbors were a rarity, she thought. Cat grabbed her mail from the mailbox by the door and then stepped into the apartment. Immediately Hannah began bouncing around and rubbing against Cat’s leg like she hadn’t seen her in a week.
“Did you forget I saw you half an hour ago, silly dog?” She rubbed Hannah’s fur and squeezed her tight. Hannah acknowledged Cat’s attention by wiggling her stubby tail furiously. She pranced around in circles and followed Cat through the apartment. Taking the mail to the couch, Cat flopped down and began sorting it out. “Junk, bills, junk, more junk, another bill,” Cat commented with fake enthusiasm. Talking pleasantly out loud made Hannah happy, or so it seemed to Cat. Her little black and rust-colored miniature pincher was a good companion. Cat did whatever she could to return the favor to her favorite furry friend. Hannah’s rust spots had turned white with age, but she still had the disposition of a sweet little puppy.
A white envelope with no return address didn’t appear ominous to Cat. She tore it open without a thought of who had sent it, never realizing that the envelope was missing postage until after the fact. When she pulled out the note, she froze, staring at the one word printed over and over across a single white piece of notebook paper: “Die.”
Cat immediately dropped the paper like it was on fire. She jumped from the couch and ran to the phone on the kitchen wall. She was halfway through dialing her parent’s number when she disconnected. She hung the phone back on the wall and slowly looked around the apartment for other ominous threats as she crouched down beside the counter. There was no way she could tell her parents about this, she thought miserably. She would have to figure this out on her own. Cat slid down the wall until she was sitting on the tiled kitchen floor. She called Hannah to her.
“Come here, baby. Good girl, that’s my good girl Han-nah. What am I going to do, huh?”
Hannah responded by snuggling up against Cat, comforting her by wagging her tail and licking her face over and over. Cat sat there with her dog in her lap for nearly half an hour and cried. She chided herself for not knowing what else to do. It crossed her mind to phone the police, but convinced herself that nothing could be done. Then it hit her. “Sullivan!” Cat shouted, she picked up Hannah and headed for her room where she had deposited her purse before going to Miriam’s.
She searched her wallet for Sullivan’s business card. Once she found it, she used her cell phone, dialed his number and pushed send. She sat on the edge of the bed and waited while his phone rang.
“Detective Sullivan,”
“Detective, this is Catherine Carlyle. Do you have a minute?”
“Absolutely, Miss Carlyle. How can I help you?”
He put a finger across his lips to hush his partner. Sullivan pictured her in her hospital gown again and smiled. “You are hopeless,” Bronson whispered and then muffled a laugh. The two homicide detectives had just gotten back into Bronson’s Charger and were winding through traffic when Sullivan’s phone had rung.
“I feel foolish for calling.” She paused, trying to formulate what she wanted to say.
“Don’t. Is everything okay?” He knew he sounded too eager, so he slowed his breathing and waited for her response.
“Well, I don’t know,” she began slowly. She suddenly wished she hadn’t called at all. Desperate for a way to get off the phone without telling him about the note or the mirror in her bathroom, she finally asked if he would meet her at her office at three p.m. Sullivan agreed without a second thought. After disconnecting he looked at Bronson, who gave him two thumbs up.
“She wants me to meet her at her work at three. What do you make of that?”
“She digs you, too, man, that’s great! Or maybe she wants to sign a confession. No offense, but that would be even better.”
Bronson was right, Sullivan thought. He needed to get serious. He wasn’t acting like himself. They rode back to police headquarters in silence. Both men, lost in their own thoughts, formulating plans for the meeting at three o’clock with one, Cat Carlyle.