A Cat in the Attic Mystery: The Secret of Logan Pond Read online

  “I’m sure there was a lot of blood, but I think that people who work in law enforcement get used to blood the same way doctors do. Once you see it often enough, you tend to lose your sensitivity to it.”

  “I hope so. I do want to be a doctor, but I won’t be able to do a very good job if I barf every time I see blood.”

  “Yeah,” I smiled. “I guess that would be a problem.”

  “Do you barf when you see blood?” she asked.

  “Not usually, but I guess it depends on the situation.” Luckily, we pulled into the drive at that point, and changing the subject, I asked, “Do you want a snack before we start our lesson?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I opened my car door and slipped out.

  “How come you’re walking funny?” Paisley asked. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  “No, I’m just sore from my workout.”

  “My mom used to go to classes like that before she got sick. Sometimes she’d come home limping, and when I’d ask about it, she’d say she overdid it.”

  I opened the front door and headed toward the kitchen, Paisley followed along behind. She tossed her backpack on the table and then sat down at the kitchen table.

  “Did you eat your lunch today?” I asked as I stood in front of the refrigerator.

  “Part of it.”

  “Which part?” I wondered.

  “The milk and the apple. The rest was gross.”

  “Okay, so how about I make you a ham sandwich on Gracie’s homemade wheat bread, and then if you eat all of that, you can have a cookie.”

  “Okay,” Paisley grinned. “Mustard, but no mayonnaise.”

  “You got it. Cheese?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I set the sandwich and a glass of milk on the table in front of the ten-year-old. She dug in as if she hadn’t eaten in a week, but since she’d been here for the cookout last night, I knew she’d not only eaten but had, in fact, eaten quite a lot. “You must have a hollow leg.”

  She looked down at her leg. “That’s what Grandma says, but I promise that it’s regular, not wooden.”

  “Saying someone has a hollow leg is just an expression that means they eat a lot.”

  “Oh. Are there any more chocolate chip cookies left?”

  I opened the cookie jar. “As a matter of fact, there are. With or without nuts?”

  “With, please.”

  After Paisley finished her snack, we went up to the attic for our lesson. It was a beautiful day, so I opened the window to let some fresh air in. As Paisley played the tunes she’d been rehearsing for me, I stood at the window and looked out. After my accident, I really hadn’t wanted to come back here, but how different my life would have been if I hadn’t. I’d enjoyed my life in the city and loved my career as a pianist, but now that I’d had a chance to spend some time in Foxtail Lake, I knew that it was this town and the people who lived in it that owned my soul.

  I watched as Aunt Gracie pulled into the drive. She waved to me and then gathered her groceries and headed toward the kitchen door. She joined us in the attic a short while later.

  “That’s really beautiful, Paisley,” she greeted. “When I pulled up and heard the music, I thought Callie had the stereo on.”

  She grinned. “Thanks. I’ve been practicing. Someday I’m going to be as good as Callie.”

  “I’m sure you are, sweet thing, I’m sure you are. Are you still going to stay for dinner?” Gracie asked. “I’m making spaghetti.”

  “I love spaghetti.” She grinned.

  Gracie turned toward me. “How about you? Will you be here?”

  “I don’t have any other plans. I am going to call Cass later and check in. If he doesn’t have plans for dinner, I might invite him.”

  “I have plenty of sauce. Just let me know if he’ll be here before I put the noodles on. That boy can eat almost as much as our Paisley.”

  Paisley grinned when Gracie called her our Paisley. I think it gave her a sense of security to be considered part of our family. I hoped that spending time with us would help compensate for the fact that other than her grandmother, who tended to drift between feeling okay and not doing well at all, she really had no one.

  “Should we invite your grandma to dinner?” Gracie asked Paisley.

  She nodded. “She told me she’s having a good spell and feels more like her old self, and my grandmother loves your spaghetti. You should call her.”

  “I will. When you finish up here, you can help me with the salad,” Gracie said to Paisley.

  Again with the grin. I had to admit the little imp really had wormed her way into my heart. I enjoyed relationships with a lot of different people, but the bond I felt I was beginning to form with Paisley was different. At times, I wondered if this was what it felt like to be a mother. Not that I’d ever know the answer to that particular question, but I supposed what I had with Paisley was about as close to a mother/daughter relationship as I was ever likely to have.

  “Do you want to learn a new song today?” I asked after Paisley returned to the songs I’d already taught her.

  “I would.”

  “It’s a duet, so I’ll teach you one half, and I’ll play the other half. It’s an intermediate level song, so we’ll really have to practice to get the timing right. Once the two parts become one, it’s truly magical.”

  Chapter 9

  Cass and I headed out to the front porch after dinner. We sat on the swing and gazed out over the lake. It was light later in the evening as we approached the summer solstice, so Paisley played with Milo on the lawn, while Paisley’s grandma sat with Gracie in the living room. Tom, sweet guy that he was, offered to tackle the dishes.

  “So, how was your day?” I asked, finally merging into the conversation I’d been dying to have since he arrived.

  “Challenging. I spoke to a lot of people who each had a different take on what had most likely led to Bobby’s death, but in the end, none of the leads panned out, so I feel like I’m right back where I started.”

  “What sort of leads? Did you talk to Jimmy?”

  He nodded. “Bobby was at the bar on the day he died. It was only midafternoon, but according to Alex and others who were there yesterday afternoon, he was already pretty drunk. Everyone agreed that Bobby got a call, after which he left. He appears to have gone straight home. It also appears that someone was waiting for him. Based on the entry point of the wound and the location and position of the body, it appears he was shot in the forehead as soon as he walked in the door.”

  “So someone probably called and asked him to come home, where they were waiting to kill him.”

  “That was my first guess, but I pulled the phone records, and the call he received right before he left the bar was from his ex-wife. I spoke to her, and she told me that a friend of hers, who was also at the bar that afternoon, told her that Bobby was there and that he’d been drinking and looking for a poker game. Tamara told me that Bobby was way behind on his child support and that she called and told him to go home before he lost any more of the money he owed her. I guess he did as she asked. Or at least it appears that way.”

  “Okay, so someone was in the house when he arrived. You said it wasn’t Jimmy. Why do you think that?”

  “For one thing, the house has stairs leading up to the front door and no handicap access. Additionally, Jimmy was at a friend’s home, enjoying a BBQ when Bobby was shot. I’ve spoken to the friend and was able to verify his alibi.”

  “Okay, so if not Jimmy and not the ex, then who?”

  “I actually ended up having dinner with Alex last night. I needed to talk to her anyway, and by the time I got around to her, she was off, so we decided to have the steak dinner I was missing out on here while we chatted. She seemed to think that if Bobby was shot over something he did, I should talk to Garth Woodward.”

  “Who’s Garth Woodward?” I asked, trying to extinguish the surge of jealousy I was experiencing after learning that Cass and his totally gorgeous
ex-girlfriend had had dinner together.

  “Garth owns a hunting and fishing lodge about twenty minutes out of town. He caters to groups looking for a real backwoods experience, and he charges an arm and a leg to provide that experience. Garth offers bear hunting excursions, among other things, and Bobby had a problem with that. They’d exchanged words on several occasions, and Bobby was even involved with a group that’s trying to make bear hunts illegal in the state.”

  “Good for Bobby,” I said, feeling slightly ill at the thought of hunting a bear.

  “When the snow melted and access to his lodge was made possible via the gravel road, someone started vandalizing Garth’s place. Garth was sure it was Bobby and had threatened legal action if he didn’t cease and desist. I spoke to Bobby about the situation even though the lodge is outside my jurisdiction, and he swore to me that, while he would have broken windows and spray-painted threatening messages all over the exterior of the wooden lodge if he’d thought of it, he hadn’t thought of it and therefore hadn’t done it.”

  “Did you believe him?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Bobby was the sensitive sort. He was a bit of a mess when it came to managing his own life, but he was also the sort to care about all living things. I think like Bobby said, he might have spray painted the exterior of the lodge if he’d thought of it, but I don’t really see him as having the initiative to come up with such a complex plan. In my opinion, Bobby wasn’t the one who vandalized Garth’s property, but Garth seemed pretty convinced Bobby had been the guilty party and was out for payback.”

  “So, do you think Garth killed him over a little graffiti?”

  “It was more than just a little graffiti. There was significant damage to the lodge, which cost Garth more than ten grand to repair, and he was madder than I’ve ever seen him. Plus, he does have a gun, a lot of guns in fact, and he doesn’t seem squeamish about killing things. But a person? I’m just not sure. I did speak to him, and he, of course, denied killing Bobby, but he’s been staying out at the lodge, making the needed repairs, and since he isn’t open for the season yet, he was alone.”

  “So, he has no alibi.”

  “Exactly. Still, I think it would be a mistake to jump on the idea of Garth as the killer too soon.”

  “I agree. Who else are you looking at?”

  “I spoke to a handful of men Bobby played poker with. The idea that he might have been cheating or that he owed someone a lot of money but refused to pay up had crossed my mind. None of those interviews panned out. I plan to speak to Colin Woodford tomorrow. We’d planned to speak to him anyway regarding Austin Brady’s disappearance. Given the fact that I will also be questioning him about Bobby’s murder, it might be best if I do his interview alone.”

  “I understand. What about Larry? Are we still planning to head to Steamboat Springs on Wednesday?”

  “I’m afraid I’m probably out. I want to help you with your story, but figuring out who killed Bobby and bringing them to justice is my main priority at this point.”

  “Do you suspect Larry of being involved in Bobby’s death?”

  “No. I did some checking and found out he was in Denver all weekend. If you want to speak to him about Austin, I don’t see a problem with that.”

  “Maybe Dex would want to go and talk to Larry with me. He did know the guy.”

  “That might actually be a good idea. Maybe Larry will talk to Dex, whereas he might not have willingly spoken to you or me.”

  “So, are you still planning to do your shift at the shelter tomorrow?” I asked.

  “That’s the plan at this point, although I will need to play it by ear and see how my day goes. I called Naomi earlier and filled her in on the situation.”

  “I’ll be there, so if you don’t make it, the dogs will still get played with.” I nodded to the lawn where Paisley and Milo were playing. “It appears that Milo is getting his playtime in this evening.”

  Cass smiled. “He does seem to be having a wonderful time. He had a busy day today, helping me search Bobby’s home, yard, outbuildings, and car.”

  “Did he find anything?”

  “All sorts of things, but nothing that points to his killer. I did find a tube of lipstick shoved under the sofa. Since Bobby was single and male and I’ve never seen him wear lipstick, I’m assuming the lipstick belonged to a visitor. Of course, someone who was at the house months ago could have left it behind. Still, given the situation, I’m having it tested for DNA.”

  “Do you think you’ll find a match?” I asked.

  “Probably not, but I figure it doesn’t hurt to try.”

  “Can you tell anything from the slug that was recovered from his body?”

  “Not really. The shooter used a handgun, and the shot was fired from close range. If we had a gun to match it to, that would help quite a lot, but so far, we haven’t found the murder weapon, so we are assuming the killer took it with them.”

  “And none of the neighbors saw anything? It was the middle of the afternoon.”

  “The neighbor on the right was out of town, and the neighbor on the left was having dinner with his mother. There are three homes across the street that provide a good view of the front of the house. A single mom with three children occupies the house in the center of the three. The mother claimed to have been in the back of the house where her home office is located, trying to get caught up with paperwork for most of the afternoon. She did hear the shot and went to investigate, but didn’t see anything. I suspect the killer left through the back door. He or she probably hopped the fence and had a car waiting on the street behind Bobby’s house. The woman did call 911 to report the gunshot.”

  “And the kids?” I asked.

  “The oldest son is eight. He said he saw a man with a blue hat knock on Bobby’s door, maybe twenty or thirty minutes before he heard the shot. He said the man had dark hair and wore a light-colored shirt and jeans, but he never saw his face and really wasn’t paying all that much attention. The woman also has two daughters, who are three and five. The three-year-old was down for a nap, and the five-year-old was watching cartoons on the television in her office.”

  “And what about the other two houses positioned with a good vantage point to see the front of the house?” I asked.

  “The neighbor to the left is a single senior. He told me he was home alone watching television when he heard the shot. He didn’t see anything, but he also called 911 a few minutes after the woman who’d been working in her home office.”

  “And the other neighbor?”

  “Wasn’t home. I have men canvassing the neighborhood. I’m hoping that someone else saw the man with the blue hat. Of course, just because he knocked on the door, doesn’t mean he’s the killer, but I am interested in tracking the guy down and having a conversation with him.”

  “I guess you still have a lot of follow up to do.”

  He nodded. “I really do. I have phone records and bank statements to go over, and a long list of people to talk to.” He looked at his watch. “I appreciate dinner, but I really should go.”

  “I understand. Maybe I’ll see you at the shelter tomorrow. If you can’t make it, call me.”

  He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “I will. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Chapter 10

  Wednesday

  I hadn’t seen or heard from Cass at all yesterday. I knew he was busy with the Bobby Brighton murder case, but I had thought that if he wasn’t going to make it to the shelter, he would have called and let me know what was going on. He had called Naomi and let her know he was tied up, and he’d ask her to tell me, so I suppose that was something. Still, I had to wonder if there wasn’t something more going on than just being busy.

  Dex and I were going to Steamboat Springs today to talk to Larry. Dex shared that Larry hadn’t sounded happy about the visit when he’d called to set it up, but he had agreed to meet us for lunch and share what he knew. Dex had arranged to pick me up at the house, and
we were currently driving toward our destination.

  “Is Cass making any headway with the Bobby Brighton case?” Dex asked.

  “I’m not sure. I haven’t spoken to him since Monday. I know he had quite a few leads to follow up on, but I have no idea if any of them went anywhere. I thought I’d try to call him after we get back.”

  “Now that you’re working full time at the newspaper, he may have decided that it isn’t a good idea to share things with you like he used to.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “He knows I’m not going to print anything he doesn’t want to be printed. I know there are reporters in the world who feel that the story comes first no matter the cost, but I’m not one of them. If Cass told me something in confidence, I’d keep it in confidence. He knows that.”

  “Perhaps.” He merged into the passing lane and sped up to pass a truck. “Still, he might be afraid that you’d mention something to Brock or me, and we’d run with it. I’m just saying you shouldn’t be surprised if he isn’t quite as open as he has been in the past. Do you remember the name of the street where we’re supposed to turn off the highway?”

  I took out my phone, punched in the address of the restaurant Larry had suggested and put it into my maps app. “It looks like you’ll need to turn left in about two miles. After that, you’re going to take the second right.”

  Larry was waiting for us in a booth in the back when we arrived. Once Larry and Dex greeted each other and Dex had introduced me to Larry, we ordered, and then I started in with the list of questions I’d prepared.

  “I guess let’s just begin by you telling us what you remember from that campout,” I said.

  He took a sip of his coffee. “Not a lot to tell. There was a group of us who decided to go to Logan Pond and do some fishing. Everything was fine until we woke up on Saturday, and Austin was missing.” He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I really thought he’d make it back.”