Curiosity Thrilled the Cat (31 page)

“You know he’s going to back you.”

I scraped at a blob of dried paint on the table. “He could just end my contract.”

She shook her head. “Not going to happen. Next problem.”

“My father is going to be a flea,” I said.

Maggie almost choked on the banana bread. “He’s going to be a flea or he has fleas?”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” I said. “My father is going to play a flea in a TV commercial that will probably be seen all over the country.”

“Oh, c’mon, it’s not that bad.”

“It was my sophomore year when he did the cereal commercial where he was the dried-out, dancing, singing raisin.”

She opened her mouth and I held out my hand. “Do not sing that song if you ever want to eat another one of my brownies. Ever.”

She wisely popped another piece of banana bread in her mouth instead.

“Everyone was singing that song. Five of my friends dressed up as the shriveled raisin for Halloween. We did Secret Santa in the dorm. Guess what I got for my present.”

“You’re not in college anymore, Toto,” she said.

“Let’s change the subject. What are you working on?” I set my forearms on the table and leaned over to get a better look, albeit an upside-down look, at her current project.

“It’s a collage for Roma for the clinic. I’m using photos of the Wisteria Hill cats. And I’m hand coloring them. I was just going through the last batch of paper I made, looking for backgrounds, but there’s still something off about the layout.” She leaned back and studied her work spread out on a large sheet of Masonite. Then she shook her head and took another pull from her tea. “Oh, I’m assuming you heard about Ami.”

I nodded. “I drove Rebecca to the hospital to pick Ami up.”

“Eric feels awful.”

“It’s not his fault,” I said, straightening up to pick up my coffee. “Ami didn’t even know she had the allergy.”

“I’ve heard of being allergic to seafood and peanuts, but never poppy seeds.”

Suddenly I remembered Everett sitting at my kitchen table, turning down my offer of a muffin. “I have,” I said slowly. “Everett’s allergic to poppy seeds.”

“That makes sense,” Maggie said, dropping a chunk of banana bread in her mouth.

“It does?”

She held up a finger until she’d finished chewing and swallowed. “Well, yeah, since Everett is Ami’s grandfather.”

“What?”

“Yeah. You didn’t know?”

“No. Rebecca never said anything.”

Maggie knocked crumbs off her shirt. “Ami had some kind of fight with her grandfather, maybe seven or eight months ago. According to the town grapevine they haven’t spoken since then.”

“That’s sad,” I said.

“It is,” Maggie agreed. “Ami’s the only family Everett has.” She looked at me across the worktable and a small smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

“Stop smirking,” I said. “I get it. My dad’s going to play a flea on TV. So what?”

She made a show of brushing off her hands. “My work on this planet is pretty much done,” she said. She folded the paper bag into a small, neat rectangle and handed it to me. “How’s your shoulder?”

I raised and lowered my elbow like a bird’s wing. “It’s pretty good. The bruise is about eight different colors and it’s really stiff first thing, but other than that I’m okay.”

Maggie opened her mouth and closed it again. “What?” I said.

“In less than a week you were almost electrocuted and then hit with that roll of plastic?”

“Bad timing and a certain careless contractor.” I drained the last of my coffee.

She fiddled with a paintbrush. “Kathleen, are you sure?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, are you sure they were accidents?”

“Oh, c’mon,” I said. “You think someone was trying to hurt me on purpose? You sound like Susan. Who? Will? Eddie?” I shook my head.

“Hurt you. Or scare you. At first I thought maybe Will was trying to sabotage the renovations, but now I’m wondering if he’s trying to sabotage you. Look at what’s been happening. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Well, if someone is trying to get rid of me they should have said so. Left a note, a voice mail, a tape that would self-destruct after I listened to it. Maybe hung a sign from the staging. All these stupid accidents have done is make me think Everett hired the wrong person for the job.”

Maggie stared at the table. I could see her mind working. “That’s it, Kathleen,” she said, looking up.

“What’s it?”

“These last couple of accidents aren’t the first problems you’ve had at the library. Remember the mice in your office?”

“Vividly.”

“The only area in the entire building with a rodent problem. And they showed up overnight.” She shuddered. “It was like the road company of
Willard
in there.

“And the burn you got from the radiator?” She tapped her fingers on the table. “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. It’s Will. He’s trying to get rid of you.”

“He’s trying to get rid of me? Why? Is he part of some conspiracy group? ‘Let’s all work together to stop the spread of reading’?”

Maggie propped an elbow on the table and leaned her chin on her hand. “I don’t know. But remember when you said it was almost as if he had a schedule for the times he goes incommunicado? Maybe he does. Maybe he’s doing something at those times.”

I suddenly wished I had a lot more coffee. “So what is he doing and what does it have to do with me?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe it has something to do with what happened to Gregor Easton at the library. We need to find out where he goes when he leaves and you can’t reach him.”

“And how are we going to do that?”

“Follow him.”

“Follow him? How? By using one of the book carts as a skateboard? I don’t have a car, remember? And your bug isn’t exactly discreet.”

“Getting a vehicle isn’t a problem.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “So, what do I do? Put on my trench and call you from my shoe phone the next time Will shows up at the library?”

“You’re not taking this seriously, Kath,” Maggie said.

“You’re right. I’m not. Why would Will want to hurt me? I’ve given him more chances than he should have ever gotten. And as for where he goes when he’s not answering his phone, he’s probably hanging around the contractor’s desk at the building-supply store, drinking coffee.”

Maggie put her hands on her hips. “So let’s find out for sure. When do you expect him?”

“He won’t ignore my messages forever. At least he hasn’t so far. So he’ll probably show up today—I’m guessing after lunch. I usually don’t see Will in the morning.”

“Fine. When he walks in the door, call me.”

“And?”

“And I’ll pick you up. We’ll follow him and find out where he’s going.”

I slid down off the stool. “I have to get to the library.”

“Thanks for the tea, Kath,” Maggie said. “And the banana bread.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “Talk to you later.”

“Keep your shoe phone handy,” she called after me.

I didn’t even dignify that with a rude gesture.

Will Redfern stuck his head around my office door without knocking at about two o’clock. “Hello, Kathleen,” he said. “Do you know what happened to my staging? Eddie said the boys had it set up.”

“Did you get my messages?” I asked.

“Messages? When?” Then he immediately held up a hand and said, “Nah. Damn cell phone isn’t working right again.” He shrugged. “Sorry. Were they important?”

I stood up but stayed behind my desk. “Eddie and the boys set up your staging and then just disappeared.”

“Coffee break,” Will said with his toothy smile. “It’s a union rule.”

“They didn’t come back, Will,” I said. “That’s a long coffee break.”

“Well, you have to understand, Kathleen, that this isn’t the only job I have. Emergencies happen. Adjustments have to be made.”

The smirk stayed stuck to his face.

“I understand that problems come up with any renovation,” I said. “But it seems that when they happen here I can’t find you.”

“Was there some kind of emergency here?” He gave off insincerity the way a skunk gives off scent.

“Someone left a roll of plastic vapor barrier at the top of the staging. It fell and just missed my head. When I looked for you, you were gone.”

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said, placing both hands flat on my desk for support. “But somebody could have been seriously hurt.”

“I’ll talk to Eddie. I’m sorry about that.” He leaned against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world.

“That’s why the staging was taken down. Everett was concerned someone else could be hurt.”

“You called Everett over a roll of vapor barrier? No offense, but I think you overreacted, Kathleen.”

“I didn’t call Everett about the plastic.” That was true. I’d called Everett about Will. “He called here to check on the renovations. When he heard what happened he made arrangements to have your staging taken down. I’m surprised he didn’t leave you a message.” I raised one hand and smiled. “Oh, wait a minute. Your phone. You wouldn’t have gotten a message.” Now who was oozing insincerity?

“That reminds me, Will. The staging is stacked in the landing bay at the back.”

I’ll give Will his due. He recovered fast.

“This is going to throw a wrench into today’s work schedule, Kathleen. I’m sorry.”

I fought the urge to look for a wrench to throw at his head. “It’s all right. I expected it would, Will,” I said with an evenness I didn’t feel.

“I’ll try to get Eddie back here today. Could be a problem, though.”

“I knew you might say that.”

“Okay. Well, I gotta get some tools out of the storage room, and I better check the staging to make sure it’s all there.” He looked at his watch. “I can’t make any promises about Eddie. I’ll see what I can do.”

As soon as he started for the storage room I grabbed the phone and dialed Maggie. “The eagle has landed,” I whispered into the phone. “The ghost walks at midnight.” Okay, it was still hard to take Maggie’s cloak-and-dagger stuff seriously.

“Kathleen?” she said. “What are you talking about?”

“Will is here at the library,” I said in my normal voice.

“Parking lot. Five minutes. Brown truck.” She dropped her voice to a whisper and hung up.

I shut off my computer, locked my office and walked down to the checkout desk. Abigail was on the phone and Susan was checking out two women. I waited until she finished.

“Hey, Kathleen,” she said. “Did Will find you?”

“Yes, he did,” I said. “He needs some tools from the storage room. Will you make sure that the door is locked when he’s finished, please?”

“Sure thing.” she said, pushing her glasses up her nose. She had two straws stuck in the hair piled on top of her head.

“I have an appointment. I won’t be long.”

“Okay.” She scribbled a note to herself on one of the blue library pads. “How’s your shoulder?” she asked, as I turned toward the door.

“A lot better,” I said. “I think I’m going to go to Roma from now on.”

Susan laughed and I gave her a little wave good-bye. I stepped outside, hoping I’d given Maggie enough time to make it over.

A dilapidated pickup was parked in the far corner of the lot. It looked like it was being held together mostly with dirt. Could that be Maggie’s brown truck? I walked across to it. Mags was slumped in the driver’s seat. The passenger’s window was open. “Hi,” I said.

She glared at me. “Get in,” she whispered.

I glanced around the lot. No sign of Will. His truck was parked on the street.

I opened the passenger’s door. It groaned like I was trying to rip it off the truck body instead of just getting inside. I climbed in. “I’m not hiding on the floor mat with my head squashed under the dashboard,” I said.

“You don’t have to get down on the floor, but you could at least duck down your big, giant head,” she said.

I slid down until I was sitting on my spine.

Maggie watched the street from her window. Roma drove into the lot. That made me sink a little lower out of sight. I didn’t want to have to explain to Roma why I was hiding out in a truck that was stuck together with hope, grime and duct tape.

“There he is,” Maggie said.

I took the chance of sitting up enough to see. Will was getting into his truck, talking on his cell phone.

“Let’s go, Starsky,” I said.

She made a face and turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. She gritted her teeth and tried again. Nothing. Thumping the steering wheel didn’t help, either.

“C’mon, you piece of scrap metal,” she muttered.

Will had started his truck. Maggie looked out the windshield. She opened the driver’s door. “C’mon, Kath,” she said. “Run.”

I ran after her. “This isn’t going to work,” I huffed, already embarrassingly out of breath. “I think he’s going to notice us running behind his truck.”

She reached back to grab my arm and dragged me over to Roma’s SUV, pushing me toward the passenger’s door. Maggie climbed in the back and I got in the front seat. Roma looked at us, more bemused than surprised.

“Roma, you have to follow Will Redfern,” Maggie said. She pointed. “That way.” Roma snapped on her seat belt, started the car and pulled out of the lot. Will was at the end of the street at the stop sign.

“There,” Maggie said.

Roma nodded. “I see him.”

Will kept going straight along Old Main Street. Roma settled in behind him, far enough back that I hoped he wouldn’t notice. She looked in the rearview mirror and gave me a quick sideways glance. “Hello, Kathleen. Hello, Maggie,” she said. “Lovely afternoon for a drive, isn’t it?”

“I can explain,” Maggie said, leaning farther forward in the seat than she probably should have.