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TEE CALLED KARMA FROM the doorway, and together they backed away from the macabre scene. Only then did the big orange and white cat stop hissing and growling. He guarded access to the room from his perch on the chair back, his paws kneading the top of Sissie Turpin’s head.
Turpin’s murder had been staged to look like a suicide. Even though she had been expecting it Tee shuddered, then fished out her phone. She dialed 911, waited for the operator, identified herself and reported the death. By rights she should sit on her hands until the locals arrived. Their county, their jurisdiction.
She set her jaw, and her eyes narrowed, taking in the details. While she waited for the locals to arrive, Tee carefully recorded the scene, taking pictures and video with her phone. She performed a careful, visual search of the room from the door. After enlarging the picture of the drug vial near the body, she dialed her phone.
Redford answered on the third ring. “Busy time here, Tee, what ya got? Make it snappy.”
She quickly filled him in. “Whoever got to her staged a suicide. Looks like an overdose of midazolam after drinking heavily. The needle’s still in her arm.”
“How’d she get that drug? It’s a controlled substance.”
“She had a script from a veterinarian for one of her cats, to control epilepsy...” She crossed her arms. “The label’s on the vial, clear as day. Makes me wonder about Detweiller’s suicide.”
He sighed. “Different drug, same M.O. In both cases, if it’s the same do-er, he used whatever was at hand. Damn. That’s cold. And takes planning. Goes a lot deeper than we suspected.”
“Yeah.” She nodded, her shoulders tightening, and craned her neck to relieve the tension. Karma leaned against Tee’s thigh. She stroked the big dog’s broad head, grateful for the company. “She’s got a bunch of cats running loose. Locals are on the way and I asked for animal control. Can’t get close to the computer. But from a distance, looks like the electronic files got trashed. Lucky for us—and her—the witness got away.”
“You sure she’s a witness, not the killer? Be a neat trick to point at some mysterious bad guy who disappears into the storm.”
Tee scratched Karma’s neck when the dog whined. “Possible, I guess. But Charlie truly seemed terrified. The girl’s savvy, but young, but tries to seem older. I need to talk to her again.”
“Okay, but get everyone to keep it quiet she survived. If she’s a witness, she could be at risk.” He spoke to somebody in the background before returning to the conversation. “What’s her name again? Charlie Cider? Who is she, anyway? A relative of the vic?”
Tee wished she’d asked the girl more pointed questions. “Not clear. Purple hair, buzz cut above both ears, nose ring, tats on the fingers.” She’d been more concerned about saving Charlie’s life. Lucky for her, the furry Akita angel named Bishop decided to intervene and keep her warm.
“We’ll run the name and description, see what we come up with from our end. Meanwhile, work with the locals. I’ll reach out from here, see if I can light a fire. If you’ve got the same lake effect snow we’re fighting, it could be a while.” He paused before adding, “While you’re waiting, anything you find out could save the locals time, doncha think? Probably be grateful for the help.”
Tee grinned, then disconnected. Just what she wanted to hear. Redford had deniability if she screwed up, but she had a nod and wink to sniff around.
The guard cat hissed again when she disconnected the phone and made eye contact with her. The others milled around the dead owner’s legs, while one sat in her lap. “Karma, I don’t think the cats like us very much.”
Karma whined and wriggled, her answer to a wag. As far as she knew, the dog’s only experience with cats was raising Gizmo. Her imposing form and foreign smell probably scared these fancy show cats to death, but Tee wanted a quick look at the computer before the locals arrived.
“What would September do? She’s the animal expert. Wish she’d answer her damn phone.” At the thought, Tee texted the woman one more time, but didn’t wait for an answer.
“Karma, let’s go.” Tee led the dog down the hall. Maybe if she moved the Rottie out of sight, the cats would calm enough to let her into the room. “Down. Wait.” The dog obediently dropped into a prone position. She whined but remained in place when Tee returned to the murder scene.
Before attempting to move anything, Tee took additional pictures of the position of the body, the toppled cat tree, and the open cabinet that contained several accordion file folders. She cocked her head to one side, noting the caster wheels on the office chair in which the victim sat. Cats continued to mew and circle the chair. If she could roll the chair away from the door...
Tee belatedly remembered Lia’s caution about making eye contact with strange dogs. Hard stares meant a challenge and could escalate aggression and attack in dogs. Maybe the same held true for cats.
Karma whined, then yawned noisily from down the hall. “Karma, shush. Good girl. Wait.” Tee knew the dog meant the cats no harm, but if they’d never been around a big dog, they wouldn’t know that. Karma outweighed even these jumbo-size felines four to one. She’d never seen such fluffy, mammoth cats.
Tee spied a dust mop, still fuzzy with cat fur swept from the floor. She grabbed it, hefting the slight weight of the aluminum pole, and walked slowly through the door. Tee kept her eyes focused away from the cats, and turned sideways the way Lia and September had taught her to deal with strange dogs. She hoped it worked for these creatures, too.
The guard cat paused his kneading, stared hard at Tee, and growled. She froze and held her breath until the growl faded away. She extended the mop-end of the pole until it contacted one of the chair’s casters. With gentle pressure, the chair rolled forward.
The cat hissed, but clung claws more tightly into the fabric of the chair back. He had no intention of abandoning Sissie.
With continued pressure, the chair rolled farther into the room. It swiveled three quarters around so that the woman’s dead eyes no longer stared back at Tee. She sidled into the room, still clutching the dust mop in case the orange and white beauty launched an attack. But the distance seemed to have calmed the cat. Tee continued to avoid eye contact as she made her way into the office area.
Unfortunately, she’d moved the chair in front of the file cabinet. She had to get the cats completely away from the body. Maybe food? According to Charlie, she’d been chased from the house late last night, so the cats hadn’t been fed in at least twelve hours. Karma loved bacon-flavor treats, and Tee had some in her kit. But did cats like the same thing? She doubted it.
Opposite the desk, a small refrigerator stood on the counter beside the large sink. Keeping one eye on the now silent cats, Tee opened the door, and found an open can of stinky cat food. Yes!
Two of the cats swiveled big-eyed faces in her direction when the refrigerator opened. One stood and meowed with anticipation. Tee grabbed the can of food and walked slowly past the toppled cat tree and into the cattery proper.
The open doors on each kennel held a name tag, probably identifying each resident cat. Clean empty food bowls sat in each. So Tee tipped out a finger-size portion of nasty wet food into each bowl. “Hey cats, dinner time. Hungry, are you hungry?” She entered the one floor-to-ceiling playpen on the opposite side of the aisle and closed the door, protection in case they decided to coordinate an attack like a campy horror movie. “Hey, kitty-kitty-kitty, which one of you is Sherlock? Where’s Meriwether? Treats for the cats.”
The magic “treat” word brought all running, each hopping up into respective kennels—all but the guard cat. Tee waited another thirty seconds before she slipped out the playpen door and closed the kennels of the resident felines. The two areas labeled for Sherlock and Meriwether remained empty.
The guard cat finally left his perch and stalked toward Tee. He held his tail straight up with just the tip waving. His ears continued to swivel to the side like airplane wings, but he chirruped and seemed interested in taking the chance on her—if treats were involved.
“Hey there, Sherlock?” He didn’t respond. “Meriwether?”
The orange and white cat chirruped again, and his ears came forward. “Meriwether, good boy, cat. Sorry about your lady. Brave cat to protect her.”
She didn’t try to touch him. Tee set the nearly empty can on the floor of the playpen, and stood back until he entered. With a sigh of relief, and feeling accomplished, she latched the door. With all the cats safely confined, she could take a closer look at the files.
“Mahalo, Karma.” At the release word, Karma hurried to join Tee and sat in the doorway. Karma would give her a head’s up when the local police arrived. Until then, Tee quickly flipped through the paper files—some more than twenty years old. Other than cat pedigrees and show records, she found no outside bookkeeping records linked to Detweiller. One file held records of sales of the Maine Coon kittens, and when one name caught her eye, she looked closer.
At her shocked intake of breath, Karma whined. “This can’t be a coincidence, honey-girl. Different last name, but I mean, how many people do you know named September?”
