A Cat in the Attic Mystery: The Mystery Before Christmas Page 9

  Chapter 13

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I said as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. When Hope had mentioned green tights and a red sweater, I was expecting something pretty bad, but this was downright horrifying.

  “You look cute,” she encouraged.

  “I look ridiculous.” The sweater adequately covered all my delicate spots, and it did fall to a point just past mid-thigh, but the green tights and red boots were just so… “Don’t you think this costume is pretty stereotypical. I mean, if you really think about it, the real Santa lives in the North Pole. It’s cold there. Even colder than here. I seriously doubt the elves are running around in such a skimpy uniform. No,” I insisted, “they most likely wear heavy pants and waterproof boots.”

  Hope raised a brow. “The real Santa?”

  I shrugged. “Hey, if I’m going to be an elf, I’m going to believe in the real Santa. Maybe I could find some green pants that would work just as well. Or at the very least, heavier leggings. I feel sort of naked. Actually, I feel totally naked. I can even feel a draft in a spot where I ought not to be feeling a draft.”

  Hope laughed. “If you want to wear heavier leggings and can find some in green, go for it. How do the boots fit?”

  “They’re a little big, but they’re fine. It’s not like I’m going to be walking anywhere in them.”

  “Great. So, I have you scheduled on Saturday morning and Sunday afternoon. The shifts are four hours. I’ll email you an official schedule.”

  “And after the weekend?”

  “I’m still working on a schedule, but I’ll let you know if I need you.”

  “Okay. I guess I can make this work. I do want to help, but…” I waved a hand down the front of my body.

  “Like I said. You look adorable. And we do expect to have a busy weekend, so I will need all the volunteers I can get. I really do appreciate this.”

  “I know, and it’s fine. I’m sure I’ll have fun with it, and I know how important this weekend is for the town.”

  “It is important, which is why I’m hoping the storm that is supposed to blow through here takes another path entirely. I hear they are predicting four feet of snow. That will close the pass for sure.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “That is a lot in a short time. I remember the pass being closed for days at a time when I lived here before.”

  “It still is if we get enough snow or if whiteout conditions exist. Of course, this is Tuesday, and the event isn’t until Saturday, so anything can happen. I guess all I can do is be prepared for whatever happens.”

  “That sounds like a good attitude to me.” I set the red and green hat on my head just to get the full effect. I had to admit that it was not an effect I was thrilled with.

  “So, how did your interview with Carolyn go?” Hope asked after I removed my hat and sat down to remove the boots.

  “Except for the fact that she tried to kill me, it went fine.”

  She chuckled. “Kill you?”

  “She wanted us to talk while she exercised her horse. Until yesterday, I’d managed to get through my entire life without mounting one of those beasts. To say I was terrified would be putting it mildly, but I survived.”

  “I’ve ridden with Carolyn. She has some pretty tame horses.”

  “She does. I rode a mare named Gaia. She was actually very sweet. Not that I’m looking to repeat the experience anytime soon, but I guess there is a part of me that is glad I faced my fear and didn’t let it interfere with my goal of conducting the interview.”

  I picked up my street clothes and stepped behind the dressing screen.

  “So do you think Carolyn is Secret Santa?”

  “No,” I answered after pulling my sweater over my head. “She made some good points about the fact that while she does frequently contribute to the community and often helps individuals out as well, she had never found the need to do so anonymously. That very point had occurred to me before, but after she said basically the same thing I’d already thought, I realized she wasn’t the person I was looking for.”

  “Yeah, I had my doubts that it was her, but now you know for sure.”

  “I do. And that has value.” I stepped out from behind the screen once I’d finished changing out of my elf costume.

  “So, what is your plan now?” Hope asked.

  “I have an appointment to interview Haviland Hargrove this afternoon. If it turns out he isn’t Secret Santa, I am going to ask Cass to arrange a meeting with the Simpson brothers. Actually, I should speak to them either way. I am supposed to be doing an article about the suspects this week. I suppose I should include more than two.”

  “And if it isn’t Haviland or Dean and Martin?” Hope asked.

  I shrugged. “No idea. Others may have the means as well, but I can’t think of anyone else off hand. I don’t suppose you have any ideas?”

  “Have you considered Mary Anderson? She is wealthy enough to be Secret Santa, and she is a very nice woman with a kind heart. I could totally see her wanting to help people out.”

  I paused. “Are you referring to Mrs. Anderson? My third grade teacher?”

  “Yes. She is retired from teaching, of course.”

  “I don’t remember her being particularly well off.”

  “She wasn’t when you lived here before, but then she won the lottery.”

  My eyes widened. “You’re kidding. Did she win a lot?”

  “Several million dollars if I remember correctly. And unlike a lot of lottery winners who blow through all their money, she continued to live very conservatively. I can’t say that I know her net worth, but I would guess that she could pull off the Secret Santa gifts if she wanted to.”

  I smiled. “Thanks. That sounds like a wonderful lead.” I handed her the folded costume. “I would say I owe you, but after agreeing to the elf gig, I think I consider us even.”

  She laughed. “I agree. In fact, I think I still owe you, but I’m sure you’ll find a way to collect.”

  Chapter 14

  When I arrived at the shelter for my training session that afternoon, I was introduced to Barkley. Barkley was a new arrival whose elderly owner had been forced to move into an assisted living facility after suffering a stroke. Barkley, I quickly found out, didn’t need me to train him on basic commands, what he needed was for someone to coax him out of the depression he’d fallen into.

  “Barkley is a unique situation,” Naomi explained. “He is an older dog who has lived in a quiet home free of children and other animals for his entire life. The man who adopted him as a puppy was already well into his senior years when Barkley came to live with him, and given his reclusive nature, Barkley isn’t used to interacting with anyone other than this one person.”

  “So now that his owner is no longer in his life, he is feeling lonely and depressed.”

  She nodded. “Exactly. And it will be close to impossible to find someone to adopt a dog who doesn’t respond to the presence of people in any way. What I need you to do is to sit with him and talk to him. Simply spend time with him, so that he gets to know you. I’m hoping that after a while, he will start to respond to your presence. Once that happens, we can expose him to some of the other trainers. I don’t think he’ll ever be a super social dog, but I do hope we can get him to the point where he will at least look at those individuals who come to the shelter looking to adopt a senior dog.”

  “Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Excellent. You have a peaceful way about you. I think that with some time, Barkley will begin to respond to your presence.”

  After Naomi left, I sat down on the floor next to Barkley. The entire time Naomi and I were chatting, he had simply laid on the floor with his head resting on his paws. He hadn’t moved or responded in any way to our presence in the room. I supposed I didn’t blame him. I’d be depressed too if the person I’d always depended on was suddenly stripped from my life.

  “So my name is Callie,” I said as a means of in
troduction. “I guess it is my job to coax you out of your depression, but I just want to say that I get it. I do. I’ve suffered crippling loss in my life as well, and I know how it is when everyone wants you to feel better before you are ready to even start dealing with your loss.” My heart went out to the poor dog. “Grief is a real thing, and it takes as long to process as it takes. I just want you to know that you and I are cool. I’ll sit here and chat with you, but there won’t be any hard feelings if you need more time to really work through this loss.”

  I knew the dog was alive because he was breathing, but as far as I could tell, he hadn’t moved an inch since I’d been introduced to him.

  “So I’m dealing with an interesting situation of my own,” I continued. I figured the dog wouldn’t really care what I talked about, so I might as well use the time to process my own situation. “I am trying to work my way into a full-time job at the local newspaper, a job I never even knew I wanted until a few weeks ago, but want desperately now. Anyway, my boss, a really nice guy named Dex, has assigned me to do a series of articles about Secret Santa. The series is going to be reprinted in the Post, which is a huge opportunity for both me and the Foxtail News. Anyway, Dex wanted to put another reporter with more experience on the assignment, but the idea was mine in the first place, so I talked him into letting me run with it. The thing is, even though I promised the guy I would be able to meet all the requirements of the series, including naming Secret Santa, I am beginning to have doubts on so many levels. Not only am I beginning to doubt my ability to actually identify this guy, but even if I can figure out who he or she is, I am conflicted about making the identity of Secret Santa public.”

  I took a breath and then continued. “I was just chatting with Aunt Gracie’s cat about the situation this morning, and he seemed to think I needed to really dig down and decide where my priorities lie. To be honest, I’ve been going over that in my head all day. The thing is that I just don’t know what I should feel, and I certainly can’t figure out how I do feel. On the one hand, if I am able to identify Secret Santa, which is the task I have agreed to, I know I have a responsibility to Dex to write the story I promised him I could and would write, and I know he is depending on me. On the other hand, I do feel like the guy who has been doing all these amazing things has a right to his anonymity.”

  Barkley still hadn’t moved or responded in any way, but my job was just to talk to him and get him used to me, so I continued.

  “Of course, worrying about whether to reveal the identity of Secret Santa may be premature since I really have no idea who he or she is. Do you know I actually rode a horse for the first time in my life just to get an interview with Carolyn Worthington? Now, if that isn’t dedication to my article, I don’t know what is. The horse was huge. I was sure I was going to fall and break my neck, but I didn’t.” I paused. “In fact, I actually had fun once I started to relax a bit. Not that I am looking to repeat the experience anytime soon, but I guess my fear of horses is one of those fears that was based on nothing more than the unknown.”

  I reached out slowly and put a hand on the dog’s head. I gently ran my hand down his neck. He didn’t respond, but I felt confident he was aware of my presence.

  “Anyway, long story short, Carolyn told me she is not Secret Santa, and I believe her. So today, I went to visit a man named Haviland Hargrove. I guess he inherited a bunch of money, and he doesn’t work. In fact, it seems like he really doesn’t do much of anything. While he lives on a large estate in a gorgeous home, it seems like he lives a pretty lonely life. During our discussion, he didn’t mention any friends or hobbies. Tom has mentioned him a time or two, so I guess the guy might go to the lodge occasionally. Still, living all alone in that big house seems pretty empty.” I stroked the dog’s head once again. “You know, Haviland might be a good fit for you. The guy lives alone, and I didn’t see any other animals. It seems as if he is a low energy sort of guy, so he probably wouldn’t make a lot of demands on you. I’ll talk to Naomi about it.”

  I swore the dog lifted the very edge of his tail in a wave of approval, but I couldn’t be sure. I’d seen stuffed dogs who seemed more animated.

  “So anyway, after speaking to Haviland, I’ve decided he can’t be Secret Santa,” I continued. “He certainly has enough money, but Secret Santa has gone to a lot of effort to arrange for the gifts he has presented. I just don’t see Haviland making that type of effort. Besides, Secret Santa knows exactly what his gift recipients need. That tells me he knows these people and is active in the community. Haviland most definitely is not.”

  I continued to run my fingers through the dog’s soft fur as I spoke.

  “At this point, the only real Secret Santa suspects I still need to speak to are the Simpson brothers and a woman named Mary Anderson, who just happens to have been my third grade teacher. If they don’t turn out to be behind the gifts, I’m really not sure where to look next.” I leaned back against the wall in an effort to support my back. Ever since my accident, I had a hard time sitting for long periods with my back not supported. “I guess I should talk to Cass about it when he gets here. He knows the brothers, so he should be able to arrange for me to talk with them. He might even have new updates on Secret Santa I haven’t heard about yet. He is a cop, so sometimes he hears things before anyone else does. Of course, he’s been pretty busy with his own case, so who knows if Secret Santa is even on his radar. And Hope might be able to help me get an interview with Mrs. Anderson.”

  “Callie,” Cass called out.

  I looked at the dog. “Speak of the devil.” I sat forward and called out that I was in the training room.

  “There you are,” Cass said, poking his head in from the hallway. “Are you taking a break?”

  “Actually, this is Barkley. He is a new dog who is dealing with depression. Naomi wanted me to sit and chat with him, so that’s what I’ve been doing. Is Milo with you?”

  “Milo is at the vet, getting his teeth cleaned. I need to pick him up when I am done here.” Cass sat down on the other side of Barkley. “Hey, buddy. What’s going on?”

  The dog actually thumped his tail, although he still hadn’t lifted his head.

  “I’m afraid Barkley’s owner had a stroke and had to go into assisted living. He couldn’t bring Barkley along. The poor guy is feeling lost and out of sorts.”

  “Well, I guess so. Poor guy.”

  “Naomi mentioned that he is a quiet dog who is used to a quiet environment. Haviland Hargrove comes to mind as a human who might be a good match. I went and visited him today, and it seems like he is living all alone out there on that huge estate.”

  “Haviland would be a good choice,” Cass agreed. “I’ll talk to Naomi about it, and if she agrees, I’ll approach him.”

  “So, the two of you are friends?”

  He shrugged. “Sure. As much as Haviland is friends with anyone.”

  “He seems like the sort who prefers to keep to himself.”

  “Generally, that is true. He has a small circle of friends, but he isn’t one to want to be social beyond that small circle.” Cass scratched Barkley behind the ears. “Should we grab some dogs and take them into the playroom?”

  “You go ahead. I’ll meet you there. I think I’ll sit with Barkley for a while longer.”

  “Okay.” He stood up and started toward the door.

  “Cass.”

  He paused and turned. “Yeah.”

  “I’m running into a dead end with my Secret Santa article. Do you think you could make an appointment for me to speak to Dean and Martin Simpson?”

  “You still think they are Secret Santa?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. Even if they aren’t, I really need to talk to them for this week’s article about all the Secret Santa suspects.”

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll call them. If they aren’t busy, we can swing by their place this evening. They live out by the lake, so we’ll just drop your car off on the way. After we drop off your car, we can stop at my pla
ce, so I can change and drop off Milo, and then we can meet with Dean and Martin. After that, we can go to dinner, and then I’ll take you home when we’re done.”

  “That sounds perfect. And thank you.”

  He winked at me and walked away. He sure was sexy in his uniform.

  Chapter 15

  Dean and Martin were brothers who I estimated to be in their mid-forties. They lived together on a gated estate with a private lake. Several years ago, the brothers had sold a software company they’d started in their garage when they were in their teens for several billion dollars, after which they’d retired to the lake to tinker with their pet projects. I’d never met the men, but based on what I’d heard about them, they were both brilliant and introverted. Cass had told me that they had a small circle of friends they spent time with, but generally, they simply enjoyed each other’s company.

  I was grateful that Cass was included in the small circle of friends since I was fairly sure that I’d never have gotten past the front gate without him. Since the men didn’t hang out in town often, it was equally unlikely that I would simply have run into them and convinced them to chat.

  “Dean, Martin, this is my friend, Callie,” Cass introduced after one of the brothers, I think Dean, had answered the door and invited us in.

  “I’m so happy to finally meet you both,” I said. “And I am grateful that you’ve agreed to take a few minutes to speak to me for my article.”

  “Anything for Cass,” said the taller of the two brothers, who I was pretty sure was Dean.

  “Let’s head into the living room and talk by the fire,” suggested the second brother, Martin I was pretty sure, who was blond and slightly shorter than his sibling was. “So how can we help you?”

  “I guess you have heard about Secret Santa,” I jumped right in after having a seat on the sofa in front of the fireplace.

  “We have,” Dean answered.

  “I’m doing a story on the man or woman behind the anonymous gifts for the Foxtail News.”