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“Kat, you’re here,” Imogene Little said. She waved Kat inside her house with both hands.
Kat stepped into the foyer. “I told you I’d be right over. You sounded pretty insistent on the phone.”
Imogene slammed the door shut but didn’t move into the living area. Instead, she stood there, wringing her hands together. “Yes, well, I was curious whether you’ve made any headway on this murder business.”
“Shouldn’t you be asking Chief Kenny that? Or Andrew?” Or Raoul Leon, Kat thought, although she still felt a spark of doubt when she recalled the way he’d gone about her witness interview.
“I just hate to bother them.” Imogene sagged against the foyer wall, her imploring eyes boring into Kat’s. “And I was under the impression Marigold had gotten in touch with you—to request your assistance in clearing her and Frieda.”
Kat gaped at her. “How did you know that?” She had only left Frieda’s hotel room an hour ago.
“I have my sources.”
Sometimes Kat forgot how well connected Imogene was in Cherry Hills. Although, in this case, she suspected her friend’s ‘source’ was the police chief himself.
Clover trotted into view. He paused in the middle of the living room, craning his neck to peer at them in the foyer. When he spotted Imogene, he let out a trill, his fluffy white tail sweeping back and forth.
“Yes, yes, I know, Clover,” Imogene told him with a sigh.
“Is it his lunchtime?” Kat guessed.
“No, he’s telling me he’s disgusted by how I’ve been moping around and I need to buck up and get on with things.”
Kat didn’t see how Imogene had gathered all that from one tiny chirrup, but she wasn’t in any position to question the communication methods between pets and their humans. She often carried on whole conversations with Matty and Tom, although usually only Tom could be bothered to reply.
Imogene’s eyes drifted to her home office. “We usually spend Sunday mornings in there together, Clover curled up in his armchair and me attending to business.”
Kat saw that the office door was still closed, and an ache bloomed in her chest. Imogene was no stranger to violent crime after several unfortunate incidences had occurred around town in the past year, but having her home serve as the scene of the offense had clearly gotten to her.
“The thought of going anywhere near that room gives me the heebie-jeebies,” Imogene said. “Can you imagine? Afraid to enter my own office—my sanctuary!” She shook her head in disgust. “It’s an abomination.”
“Your feelings are only natural,” Kat told her gently. “A man did die in there, after all.”
Clover jumped onto the coffee table and glowered at Kat. Evidently the feline didn’t appreciate his human being coddled.
Kat’s eyes snagged on the sheet of paper poking out from beneath Clover’s hind paws. A familiar smiling fruit basket peeked at her from the top left corner of the page. It was the Easton’s Eats invoice Kat had passed on to Imogene before Imogene had left her apartment late last night.
Imogene heaved a sigh as she followed the direction of Kat’s gaze. “I know I should pay Sam for the wonderful job he did catering Kenny’s bash, but with my checkbook in my desk, and my desk being in my office . . .”
“I understand,” Kat said.
Clover hopped off the coffee table and stomped over to the closed office door. He planted his butt on the floor and looked at Imogene with icy blue eyes.
Imogene bit her lip. “I don’t know, Clover. Just the thought of peeking in there makes my stomach turn.”
Clover twisted around to stare at the door, his tail beating against the floor. He was obviously a proponent of tough love.
“You know what, you’re right.” Imogene squared her shoulders. “Enough excuses. I can’t put my life on hold forever, and Sam has a business to run. It’s not his fault Landon died. Why should he have to wait to get paid because of that?”
Her head held high, Imogene snatched up Sam Easton’s invoice and marched resolutely through the living room. She stopped to pat Clover on the head, then reached for the doorknob. He beat her into the room, squeezing through the opening as soon as it was wide enough to accommodate his body.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Kat asked, following behind them.
Imogene dropped into the chair behind her desk, grabbed a pen, and clicked the ballpoint out. “Just your presence here is a help.”
Clover started sniffing the carpet. Kat’s stomach lurched when she saw the stain that had captured his attention. Was that Landon’s blood? No wonder Imogene hadn’t wanted to come in here.
“Kenny promised me he would see to getting that cleaned up,” Imogene said.
Kat tore her eyes away from the carpet and looked at her friend. She still had her pen in hand, her head trained resolutely forward.
“I saw you shudder,” Imogene explained. “Don’t worry, I had the same reaction.”
“Right.” Kat sucked air into her lungs and sat down in one of the room’s armchairs, reveling in the solid feel of it beneath her.
“Supposedly Kenny knows somebody who can wash that right out.” Imogene sniffed. “Of course, that’s not going to do me much good if he keeps dragging his feet.”
“Landon only died yesterday. I’m sure Chief Kenny has been busy trying to figure out who could have killed him.”
“He’s removed himself from the case, remember?”
Although Chief Kenny might not be officially investigating Landon’s death, after her talk with Marigold Kat was fairly certain he didn’t intend to stay out of it in the slightest. With both of his sisters as suspects, how could he not do a little snooping on his own?
Imogene dropped her pen onto the desk and clutched her temples. “I don’t know why I care about getting that cleaned up anyway. I’d be much better off having this carpet torn out and new one installed. Even the most skilled cleaner won’t be able to remove the . . . the . . .”
“Blood?” Kat ventured.
“Taint,” Imogene corrected with a shiver.
As if sensing Imogene’s need for comfort, Clover leaped onto the desk and padded over to her. He stretched out his neck to rub the top of his head against her chin.
Imogene hugged the cat to her chest. “I apologize for being such a downer. I don’t know what’s come over me.”
“It’s only natural to feel out of sorts after something like this.”
“I had hoped Landon’s killer would have been identified by now.”
Imogene peered at Kat, as though to give her a chance to confess she did indeed know who had murdered Landon Tabernathy. When Kat didn’t respond after an awkward moment, Imogene’s shoulders slumped. Her dejection was enough to spur Clover into action. He began pacing across the desk, making sure to head-bump Imogene each time he passed her. Kat wondered if he felt guilty for demanding that she come in here.
In his vigor, his hind foot kicked the Easton’s Eats invoice off the desk.
Imogene rubbed the scruff of Clover’s neck, chuckling as she watched the page float toward the floor. “This is why I have a paperweight.”
Kat surveyed Imogene’s desk. “Where is your paperweight anyway?”
Imogene stopped petting Clover to look around. After a moment, she frowned. “That’s bizarre. It should be here somewhere. Clover, did you move it?”
Imogene bent down to search around the base of her desk, but Kat wasn’t hopeful she would find what she was looking for. She was recalling what Marigold had told her about Landon receiving a blow to the head. Type of object used: unknown.
Except, Kat thought with a chill, now she had a pretty good idea what the object had been.
