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DURING THE NEARLY HOUR-long ride from the hospital morgue to the Sheriff's Department, Agent Mayeux fired questions at me, one after another, as if he were at the shooting range and I were the paper target. I felt full of holes by the time we were less than a mile from the hospital. "I can't think what else to tell you," I protested.
"When's the last time you heard from Catriona Carmichael?" he asked.
I didn't bother to turn and look at him. It was still the dead of night and therefore dark. But I already knew that he'd be wearing an impassive expression that would give me no clue to what he was thinking. "I believe I've already answered that question, Agent."
"Well, answer it again."
I sighed. "The day before I left Boston, Cat came to my apartment to pick up Priscilla."
"Why didn't you drop your cat off at the kennel?"
Kennel? Really? Obviously this man knew nothing about the care and feeding of prized Persian cats. Under normal circumstances, talking about Priscilla brought me great joy. But now, not knowing where she was or what had happened to her, I couldn't bring myself to speak her name. "Cat doesn't run a kennel," I forced myself to answer. "She provides tender loving care in her home to select animals. A part of the service she runs..." but I was too choked up to continue.
"Take a deep breath," he told me. "You've had a shock."
I closed my eyes against the image of Cat's bruised neck. But doing so didn't erase what my mind's eye saw. "I'm okay."
"How did she seem when she came to your apartment? Did she act differently toward you in any way?"
I considered his question. It hadn't been that long since Cat and I had seen each other, a couple of weeks at most. But so much had happened since then that a part of me felt as if I'd been here in Sinful forever. I replayed her visit in my mind but there was nothing the least bit unusual about it. "I'm sorry, but I can't think of anything at all that would be helpful."
"When's the last time you spoke to her?" He exited the highway and turned left onto Sinful's main street. "Surely you've checked in on your cat recently?"
I winced. I was grateful that the truck was dark enough to hide my reddened cheeks as the realization hit me full on. I was the world's worst pet owner. The world's worst pet-sitting client. Adding the world's worst great-niece to the list wouldn't be inaccurate. Priscilla was heaven only knew where, Cat was dead, and Aunt Ida Belle was in jail. All because of me.
"I know it's overwhelming but just take it one question at a time." Agent Mayeux slowed his truck as we approached the sheriff's office. "I need you to focus."
"I am focusing." Focusing on what horror I'd inadvertently brought to innocent bystanders by my association with the Sidorov family. "But it's not a pretty picture."
We remained silent as he parked under a street light just outside the jail. I struggled to keep my tears from spilling while I waited for what I knew was coming. A reprimand issued courtesy of the United States government, one I richly deserved.
"A woman you knew is in the morgue," he started out with, his voice so low I had to lean in closer to actually hear him.
I nodded. I couldn't speak for the lump in my throat.
"Your aunt is in jail, subjecting herself to humiliation from the residents of Sinful until this is cleared up." He paused for a long moment. "And your cat is missing-in-action. Quite possibly the victim of a mob hit."
"I am painfully aware of this, Agent Mayeux."
He switched off the truck's engine and unfastened his seat belt. But when he reached for the door handle, I had to stop him. I needed to know what was going to happen next.
"Wait, just wait a second. Please." I took a deep breath. "What are we going to do?"
He nodded in the direction of the jailhouse. "I need to confer with LeBlanc."
I waved my hand to dismiss the obvious. "No, I meant, what is the plan to avenge Cat's death?"
Agent Mayeux slipped out of the truck and came around to open my door, the first display of proper manners I'd seen from him yet.
"Out you go." He issued the command as if I were a Labrador. So much for propriety.
With as much dignity as I could muster, I climbed down from the truck's cab. I looked up at him. "What are we going to do after we're done here?"
His lip curled up in a snarl. "You and I are going to team up and wipe that Sidorov scum off the face of this earth."
I nodded. That was a plan I could live with.
***
NO SOONER HAD WE STEPPED into the building than I heard Gertie raising heck.
"Just open the damn door, Carter," Gertie demanded in a voice loud enough to wake the entire town. "If you don't, I'm going to call the mayor."
"Aww, come on, Gertie," we heard Carter respond. "It's the middle of the night. And you know that the only thing scarier than Celia during the day is Celia at night."
"Who cares? She can get her beauty sleep another night. It's not like it's going help her anyway. That woman is so ugly—" Gertie stopped speaking when she saw us. Her eyes lit up as she pointed toward Agent Mayeux. "Ah ha, the cavalry has arrived. Finally. Where in the blue blazes have you two been?"
I glanced up at Agent Mayeux to see how he would respond to Gertie in action. But if I'd expected an outward display of surprise or any other emotion, I was mistaken.
I hurried to Gertie's side. "How's Aunt Ida Belle?"
"How would I know? Celia's pet deputy won't let me in to see her." She winked at me.
Good heavens, she was enjoying this. I stared at her in wonder. In even the most awkward and uncomfortable of situations, she managed to find fun. I didn't know whether to be horrified or inspired by her reaction to life. What I did know was that I craved a moment alone with my Aunt Ida Belle. She may lack Gertie's joie de vivre but there was something steady about her that I really wanted to lean on about now.
"Where's LeBlanc?" Agent Mayeux stood behind me. His voice rang with impatience.
Gertie threw her hands up in the air. "Hiding, I wouldn't doubt."
The door to Carter's office opened and he stepped out into the hallway. "I heard that." He greeted us with a nod as he stepped around us. "Let me just lock the front door so we're alone."
We waited in silence for him to return. I wouldn't have blamed him if he'd decided to lock the door with himself on the outside. Locking up my Aunt Ida Belle couldn't have been easy, and listening to Gertie wail had to be sheer misery. Poor Carter.
No. Poor Cat. She was what I needed to focus my attention on. The rest of us were working a plan. She deserved vengeance. I'm not going to pretend that I was over the horror of seeing her body in the morgue. Her death was a tragedy that would haunt me for the rest of my life, this I didn't doubt. But now that the first wave of tears had passed, something hardened in my heart. I was angry. Vigilante angry.
Carter came back around the corner, a grim look on his face. "I don't know how much time we have before words starts to get out that Ida Belle was arrested. It's going to be a zoo out there in short order."
Gertie nodded her agreement, but his words made no sense to me.
"But it's the middle of the night," I protested. "It will be hours before the sun is up, and surely it will take a few hours more, if not a few days, for word to get around."
Gertie, Carter, and Agent Mayeux exchanged amused glances.
"She's from Boston," Gertie said to the men by way of explaining my apparent ignorance. "Honey," she reached over and patted my shoulder, "in a town the size of Sinful gossip spreads like a wildfire. I'd bet the contents of my purse that the phone lines have already started buzzing."
"Which may not be an entirely bad thing," Carter chimed in. "We want word circulating that Ida Belle's been arrested for murder. The sooner Sidorov hears about it, the better."
I could feel frown lines form on my forehead as I tried to process that thought. "How do you think Boris is going to react when he sees that blame has fallen elsewhere?"
"He won't care." Agent Mayeux crossed his arms over his chest. "He doesn't want a connection to this. He just wants you to get the message that you're next."
I shivered. This was beyond surreal. I turned to Carter. "I'm ready to see my aunt now."
"I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that, Stephanie."
"Why ever not?" I cried. I whirled around to face the FBI agent. "Say something, do something, anything. Can't you pull rank?"
Instead of answering me, he gave Gertie a pointed look. "Why don't you two ladies have a quiet word while LeBlanc and I talk."
I opened my mouth to lodge a very vehement protest but stopped myself when Gertie laid a gentle hand on my arm.
"Let's do as they say," she said, steering me toward the other end of the hallway. She sat in one of two chairs set up against the wall and motioned for me to sit in the other.
A compliant Gertie? Could the night get any stranger?
"Stephanie, you need to stop fretting about Ida Belle. She'll be just fine."
I pointed toward the thick steel door that stood between us and lock-up. "She's in a jail cell, for crying out loud."
"She's been in worse situations, trust me. But we don't have time for those stories now. Maybe later."
Oh, no. Not maybe. Definitely later. These were stories I wanted to hear. Just so long as they weren't tall tales such as her "Fortune is a secret agent" lie.
"Now, did you see the body?" Gertie asked.
I blinked in surprise. I'd forgotten that she wasn't up to speed. No doubt Agent Mayeux was filling Carter in, so I did the same with Gertie. Her eyes widened when she heard that I'd recognized the corpse.
Gertie shook her head. "That poor girl. This just wasn't right."
That was the most rational thing I'd ever heard Gertie say. And the truest. It wasn't right.
"I just don't know what to do next."
Gertie nodded her head in Agent Mayeux's direction. "What does 'The Rock' have to say about your next move?"
I followed the direction of her gaze. She wasn't that far off the mark. Kase Mayeux's body was rock solid, not to mention that he was stone faced. "Precious little, actually. He hasn't told me where we're going next."
Gertie thought a moment. "Have you called Cat?"
"She's in the morgue," I said, surprise causing me to respond a little too loudly. The men at the other end of the hallway stopped speaking and turned to look at us. I made sure to lower my voice as I turned back to Gertie. "She's dead."
"I know that. Just because I'm old and wrinkled doesn't mean I'm a fool." Her gentle tone took some of the sting out of her words. "I meant, did you call her cell phone to see who answered it?"
I shook my head. "I hadn't thought of that."
She elbowed me. "Well, get going then before some yahoo from the Federal Bureau of Imbeciles gets their hands on it."
I reached into my handbag and took out my cell phone. My hands shook as I tried to dial Cat's number. After my fourth unsuccessful attempt, Gertie held out her hand and I gratefully handed the phone to her. From memory I rattled off Cat's cell phone number.
Gertie flashed me a thumbs up when someone answered. But then her forehead creased. "Take out or delivery? Lord above, an egg roll sounds heavenly just about now. But maybe some other time." She disconnected the call and raised an eyebrow. "Jade Palace?"
Oops. "Sorry, in times of stress that's the first number that comes to mind."
Gertie chortled. "I hear you sister. Try again."
I concentrated and then recited another number. Again I watched confusion parade across Gertie's face. "What is it?" I asked.
She held up a finger, listening intently to whomever was on the other end of the line. After a full thirty seconds, she hung up. She didn't even try to hide a grin. "Madame Zora the Psychic? Ohhh, the things I'm learning about you tonight."
"She's a client of mine," I said. "I'm trying to teach her to deliver her dour predictions with a bit more eloquence."
"Right, sure, that's a good story." Gertie's eyes twinkled merrily. "Gimmee another number. Let's see what else you've been up to in Boston."
I pressed my fingertips to my temples and tried to focus. Why hadn't I just programmed Cat's number in my contacts? "Okay, I've got it. I think." I gave her one more set of numbers.
Gertie's expression went from amused to stunned within seconds. She listened for a moment and then held out the phone for me to take. "It's for you."
With great trepidation, I took the phone and held it to my ear. I somehow managed to make myself speak. "Hello?"
"Good evening, Stephanie."
I gasped. It was Boris Sidorov.