Vanished in Cherry Hills (Cozy Cat Caper Mystery Book 4) (3 page)

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Kat said as Andrew escorted her out of the station.

He darted her a glance. “What do you mean?”

Kat kicked a stone out of their path. “I mean, what if my mother did rob that bank?” Asking the question out loud aggravated the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. “If I find her, I could be getting her into trouble.”

The thought had been gnawing on Kat since they’d stepped foot out of Chief Kenny’s office. As enthusiastic as she had been earlier to talk to the police chief, now she had to wonder if she might be doing more harm than good.

Andrew took her hand in his. “That’s certainly a possibility you have to keep in mind.”

Kat halted as a thought seized her. “What’s the statute of limitations on bank robbery?”

Andrew stopped beside her. “I’d have to check. But you do realize the statute of limitations is put on hold when a person becomes a fugitive from the law, right? In your mother’s case, if she reappeared it would be like the past thirty years never happened.”

“Oh.” Kat felt her shoulders slip a little lower.

They resumed their trek across the parking lot in silence. She wondered if she would be better off looking for her mother without Andrew’s help. Although she didn’t want to start off their relationship keeping secrets, she might not have a choice. As an officer of the law, he might have a moral obligation to notify his superiors of anything she told him concerning her runaway mother.

Andrew cleared his throat. “I guess the question you have to ask yourself is whether you’d be able to live without knowing if you opted to drop this whole thing.”

“I’ve lived thirty-two years without knowing,” she said. “Another thirty-two should be a cinch.”

But despite the lightness she forced into her tone, her heart wasn’t in the words. She’d already lived thirty-two years too long in the dark. She didn’t think she could go her whole lifetime without at least trying to get at the truth. Now that she’d given her mind permission to wonder, she couldn’t shut it off so easily.

Kat tried to muster up a smile when they reached her car. “Thanks for talking to your chief on my behalf.”

Andrew stared into her eyes, sending a tiny shiver through her body. “Kat, you know whatever you decide, I’m behind you.”

She nodded. “I appreciate that.”

He took both of her hands in his and grinned. “I really want to kiss you, but I’m not sure how you feel about having an audience.”

Kat’s eyes darted around. “We’re the only people out here.”

Andrew jerked his head toward the station. “Trust me, at least one of the guys is watching.”

Although he meant it as a playful comment, the idea unnerved her. She extracted her hands from his and wrapped her arms around her body. The thought of someone spying on her when she felt so vulnerable had her yearning to put up some type of physical boundary.

Andrew shoved his hands in his pants pockets. “I’ll catch up with you later then, okay?”

“Okay.” She smiled at him. “We’ll do the kiss then.”

His eyes sparkled. “You’re on.”

Kat watched him walk back across the parking lot, her heart soaring. Every time she remembered their first kiss anew—an experience she thought about often—she felt almost giddy.

She truly hoped this business with her mother didn’t change any of that.

Sighing, Kat fished her keys out of her purse and unlocked her car. Her phone rang as she was buckling her seat belt. She pulled it out of her pants pocket, Jessie’s Diner popping up on the caller ID.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Hi, Kat. It’s Jessie. I talked to Mom. She’s going to drive over to Aunt Helen’s tomorrow morning, if you want to stop by to ask about your mother.”

Kat’s pulse quickened. “Okay, great.”

“Let me give you the address.”

Kat rummaged through her purse for a pen and paper. “I’m ready.”

Jessie relayed her aunt’s address. “Just stop by anytime before your shift starts. Knowing Mom, she’ll leave Spokane at the crack of dawn and stay until the sun sets.” She laughed. “She couldn’t leave earlier if she wanted to. They both love to talk.”

“I’ll be there. Thanks so much.”

Kat slipped her phone back into her pocket, vowing to stop by Helen’s house first thing in the morning.

She only hoped she didn’t learn anything that put her in the position of hiding information from the police—or Andrew.

Helen Trotter lived on the outskirts of town. As Kat parked and headed up the driveway toward the tiny, blue house the next morning, she wondered if Helen and Mrs. Polanski believed her mother to be as guilty of the 1985 bank robbery as Chief Kenny did. The thought of Maybelle Harper having already been tried and convicted by the court of public opinion made her uneasy.

Still, she was loath to ignore a potential lead.

Kat stepped onto the porch. Two yellow eyes framed by a furry, black-and-white face followed her movements. When the cat realized she’d spotted him, he flicked his tail.

Kat crouched down and extended her fingers toward him. “Hi, kitty.”

The cat peered curiously at her outstretched hand, but after a moment he turned his head and gazed into the yard. Kat figured he’d been disappointed by the lack of treats in her palm.

Appropriately dismissed, Kat stood back up and rang the doorbell, glancing around as she waited. Helen’s house was rather rundown, with paint peeling off of the exterior and a few loose shingles hanging from the roof. Even so, it didn’t look any worse than the other homes in the neighborhood.

A cloud floated in front of the morning sun, casting a shadow over the spot where Kat was standing. She wrapped her arms around herself, hoping nature wasn’t trying to forebode how her visit today would end.

The front door creaked open. Before Kat had time to redirect her attention, she felt two pudgy arms snaking around her shoulders.

“Glory be, if it isn’t Kat Harper come back to see me!” a familiar voice from Kat’s childhood said, crushing her against her soft chest.

Kat grinned as she pulled away. “It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Polanski. You haven’t changed a bit.” The woman who used to run Jessie’s Diner still wore her brown hair cut in the same no-nonsense bob, could light up a room with her smile, and carried enough extra weight around her middle that hugging her felt like embracing a favorite stuffed animal.

“Well, come in, come in.” Mrs. Polanski grabbed Kat’s arm and dragged her inside. “When Jess called to tell me you wanted to see me, I let out a whoop that could be heard all the way to Idaho.”

Kat laughed. She had forgotten how feisty Mrs. Polanski was, and she was glad the woman hadn’t lost any of her energy since they’d seen each other last.

Mrs. Polanski hauled Kat into a small sitting room, where another woman was already seated. “Helen, this here is one of the finest kids you’ll ever meet.”

“Kat Harper,” the woman said, nodding. “Nora’s told me all about you. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” Kat searched for a resemblance between the sisters but couldn’t pick up any likeness besides their bright, brown eyes. Whereas Mrs. Polanski was on the heavy side and didn’t appear to have aged at all in the past fifteen years, Helen had a more slender build and hadn’t bothered to hide the gray hair and facial wrinkles suggestive of a woman over sixty.

Kat’s eyes alighted on a framed photograph on one of the end tables. In it, thirty-something versions of the two sisters smiled for the camera, their arms swung around each other’s waists. Mrs. Polanski was thinner in the photo but otherwise unchanged. The taller brunette with her hair cut to her shoulders had to be Helen. Even back then they didn’t look so similar.

Her gaze strayed, a glance around the rest of the living room confirming what Jessie had meant when she’d called her aunt a cat lady. Kat counted seven felines of various sizes and colors before Mrs. Polanski diverted her attention again.

“Tell us what’s been going on with you,” she said, a hungry expression on her face. She nudged aside a couple tabbies before plunking onto the couch, dragging Kat down beside her.

Kat twisted her hands in her lap, remembering her reason for being here. But before she could say anything, Mrs. Polanski started talking again.

“How long has it been since we saw each other?”

“Fifteen years.”

“Fifteen years!” Mrs. Polanski shook her head. “What have you been doing all that time?”

“School and work, mostly. I just moved back to Cherry Hills a couple months ago. Did Jessie tell you I’m waitressing at the diner?”

“Of course! Jess says you’re a model employee.”

Kat shifted positions. “Oh, well.”

One of the tabbies that had lost his seat jumped on Kat’s lap. He gave her an appraising look as he kneaded her thighs. Apparently she passed whatever test he’d subjected her to because he settled down and started to purr.

“But Jess said that was only a temporary thing for you,” Mrs. Polanski went on.

Kat nodded, running her hand down the tabby’s back. “I’d really like to get a job in computer programming.”

Mrs. Polanski beamed as if Kat had announced she’d discovered a cure for cancer. “I always knew you were a smart one. Didn’t I tell you, Helen? Didn’t I tell you this one was going places?”

“You sure did,” Helen said.

“And now look at her.” Mrs. Polanski peered at Kat with undisguised admiration. “She’s fixing to get herself a fancy-pants high-tech job.”

Kat’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, well. I haven’t actually found any positions in my field yet.”

Mrs. Polanski slapped her palms on her thighs. “Why, I bet one day you’ll be on TV telling everybody about the robot you invented to perform surgery or fly jets. Are you working on anything like that?”

“Uh, no.”

“Well, you will,” Mrs. Polanski said, patting Kat’s hand. “Once them geniuses in Silicon Valley find out you exist, they’re going to try to steal you away from Cherry Hills. Mark my words.”

Kat focused on thoroughly scratching the tabby’s chin so she wouldn’t have to look directly at Mrs. Polanski. She wasn’t used to receiving so much praise.

“Jessie tells me you’re looking for your mama,” Mrs. Polanski barreled on.

Kat snapped her head up, startled by the abrupt subject change. “Yes, actually, I am.”

“I might be able to help you out there.” Mrs. Polanski stood up and bustled over to a kitchen table barely big enough to seat two. She brushed a few cats aside and picked up a file folder, waving it around. “I brought some newspaper clippings I saved from the eighties.”

Kat sat up a little straighter. “Is my mother mentioned in any of them?”

Mrs. Polanski ambled back over to the sofa and held the folder out to Kat. “Well, now, you’ll have to go through them and see for yourself.”

Kat held her breath as she took the folder, her heart soaring with hope. If something in here led her to Maybelle Harper she would be eternally grateful.

Careful not to disturb the tabby, she set the folder on the empty couch cushion next to her and flipped the top open. The newspaper clippings inside were yellowed with age but still in good shape. She studied the top one, a half-page article dated June 28, 1985. It was a review of a restaurant called Country Eats that had opened that winter down in Estacada, Oregon.

Mrs. Polanski reseated herself. “Every now and then something in the news catches my attention. What you’re holding there are some of the things that captured my fancy around the time your mama left town.”

Kat riffled through the pages. The folder included everything from opinion pieces on the best places to live in the Pacific Northwest to obituaries of people who had died thirty years ago.

“I miss the days when every place had a paper,” Mrs. Polanski said. “The
Cherry Hills Courant
was my favorite, though I read the big publications from Seattle and Spokane too.” She smiled. “Maybe my collection will help you on your quest.”

Kat closed the folder, pushing aside her disappointment. Unless she wanted to know where to find the best prime rib dinner in rural Oregon, she wasn’t sure how these articles would help. Still, she appreciated Mrs. Polanski’s willingness to assist. “Thank you.”

Kat darted a look at Helen, who had taken out what looked to be a half-finished scarf patterned in Christmas colors. The knitting needles in her hands clicked together at a steady pace. She seemed oblivious to the two cats batting at the yarn as it unraveled.

Kat turned back to Mrs. Polanski. “Maybe you could tell me a little bit about my mother. Did you know her?”

Mrs. Polanski brightened. “Oh, yes. Maybelle was a sweet woman. Had a smile that could make a man fall instantly in love and a laugh warm enough to melt steel.”

An ache blossomed in Kat’s chest. She wished she remembered that.

“Of course, she had her own share of problems,” Mrs. Polanski continued. “She didn’t always hang with the best crowds or make good decisions, mind you, but she had a heart of pure gold.”

Kat swallowed hard. “You’re referring to the bank she’s accused of holding up?”

The whole room seemed to freeze. Mrs. Polanski’s wide eyes stared unblinkingly, and Helen’s knitting needles came to a standstill. The two cats swatting at the yarn dropped their paws to the floor and stood like statues. Even the tabby in Kat’s lap stopped purring.

Mrs. Polanski was the first to move. She reached down and picked up an all-black cat resting underneath the coffee table. She set him in her lap and scratched his ears for a moment before saying, “Actually, I was referring to Maybelle’s drug addiction.”

Kat frowned. “Oh. I guess I have the robbery on my brain, since I just learned about it.”

Mrs. Polanski patted Kat’s elbow. “You were too young to remember. By the time you got to the point where you were toddling about town on your own, there were bigger and better things to talk about.”

“The stock market crash,” Helen piped up.

“Oh, yes, Black Monday.” Mrs. Polanski shook her head. “Didn’t really affect Helen and me. We weren’t into stocks. But you should have heard some of the other folks in town discussing how much money they lost.”

“When was this?”

“A couple years later,” Mrs. Polanski said. “October ’87.”

Kat’s brain churned. Assuming her mother wasn’t guilty, she couldn’t help but wonder if the person who had robbed that bank might have invested their loot only to lose it all two years later.

“Who was affected by the crash?” she asked.

“Oh, anybody with investments.” Mrs. Polanski grinned ruefully. “Even I lost a bit, although we really only dabbled in the market.”

“What about single women?” Kat said, shifting as the tabby began grooming himself. “Were any of them hit hard?”

Mrs. Polanski’s forehead furrowed. “Single women?”

Kat bit her lip, debating whether to let the two sisters in on her speculations. She didn’t figure she had much to lose. “Chief Kenny, the CHPD police chief, says the bank’s security cameras caught a woman on tape. I was thinking if my mother didn’t rob that bank, it was likely another single woman. I mean, a woman wouldn’t rob a bank alone if she were married, would she? Wouldn’t her husband have done it? You’d think he would be more menacing, and therefore less likely to encounter resistance.”

Mrs. Polanski’s mouth had gaped open sometime during Kat’s speech. She clamped it shut, then said, “Well, that’s quite a theory.”

Kat’s spirits sank. “You think my mother did it.”

“Oh, I didn’t say that.”

But from the way Mrs. Polanski darted a look at Helen, she didn’t have to say it. Kat could tell she thought her mother was guilty.

Kat looked down at her lap, feeling a pinch of shame. She watched with envy as the tabby stuck one hind leg straight up in the air so he could clean it, wishing she could be as blissfully content as the cat. Although rationally she knew she shouldn’t feel responsible for anything her mother might have done, she couldn’t convince her heart. As the only Harper left in the area—as far as she knew—she was the only person around to absorb the blame for any crimes committed by her kin.

“Helen,” Mrs. Polanski said, squinting at the cat in her lap, “this little fella looks like he’s under the weather.”

Helen set down her knitting, a troubled look crossing over her face. “That’s Shadow. I told you he hasn’t been feeling well, remember?”

“Oh, yes.” Mrs. Polanski fingered the animal’s ribs. “Is he eating properly? He feels thin.”

Helen shook her head. “He nibbles here and there, but his appetite isn’t what it used to be.”

“You ought to take him to the vet.”

Helen wrung her hands together. “I can’t afford that.”

Kat looked at Shadow, who wasn’t reacting much to Mrs. Polanski’s poking and prodding. “I volunteer for 4F.”

Helen tilted her head. “4F?”

“Furry Friends Foster Families,” Kat clarified. “It’s a nonprofit. We could help cover his vet bills.”

Helen’s face brightened. “Really?”

Kat nodded. “In fact, I can get him checked out after I leave here, if you’d like.”

Helen rubbed her palms together. “Oh, that would be fantastic. I hate for him to suffer any longer than necessary.”

Kat glanced at the clock. “I should probably head out now. I have to be at Jessie’s by three.”

“Grab a carrier from the coat closet,” Helen said, gesturing.

“Okay.” Kat lifted the tabby off her lap, prompting the feline to give her a questioning look. But when she set him down again, he went back to his bath as if he’d never been interrupted.