Read Online Cat Cross Their Graves by Shirley Rousseau Murphy - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Shirley Rousseau Murphy
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âWeâre headed out to look again, Lucinda and I. Pedric is already out, after just a few hoursâ sleep.â
âI can join you. Iââ
âNo. I justâ¦wanted you to watch for her as you head down to the seniorsâ. Dulcie and Joe arenât nearly as concerned as we are. They say sheâs been gone before.â
âThe last time, she turned up in the middle of a double murder,â Charlie said. âIâll look out for her, and leave my cell phone on. Call me if I can join you.â Charlie didnât like to see her aunt so upset. Those three cats were so dear, so very special. And Kit was so damned headstrong. How could Joe and Dulcie not worry? And how did you look for one small cat, if she didnât want to be found?
In the mudroom she pulled on a pair of rubber boots, then hurried out to her van. Her cleaning crews didnât need it today; when they did, she had to use Maxâs old wreck that heâd kept for emergencies and which, they agreed, laughing, was an emergency in itself. Heading down toward the village, she drove slowly, watching the roadside and the hills, searching for that dark little hurrying tattercoat. Praying the kit was on her way home, praying she was all right. Several times she stopped to scan the trees, looking for a dark lump perched among the branches. Below her, the hills glowed brilliant green against the indigo sea. The grass, fed by the heavy rains, had sprung up tall and lush, as vibrant as living emerald. The horses could think of nothing but that tender new growth, all they wanted to do was race out and gorge on it.
Between the hills and sea, the white shore stretched away scattered with black boulders, and down to her right, the village rooftops shone with shafts of sunlight striking between dark smears of cypress and pine. Could Patty Rose, wherever shewas now, still glimpse this lovely land? Might Patty from her ethereal realm crave a last look at the dimension she had left behind?
Or did she no longer care, now that she moved in a far more fascinating realm?
Or was Patty simply gone? Was there nothing more?
Charlie didnât believe that.
Coming into the village, slowing among the cottages, she watched the streets and rooftops for Kit, trying not to let Wilmaâs distress eat at her. Maybe Joe and Dulcie were right, that Kit would show up in her own time, sassy and wondering what all the fuss was about.
But it wasnât only the missing kit that made her edgy about the cats. She was puzzled by Joe and Dulcie, too. For nearly two weeks, they had been acting so strangely. Wilma said Dulcie had hardly been home, that when she was home, she was silent and remote. Or nervous and completely distracted. And Clyde said Joe was cross as a tiger, that the tomcat was so bad tempered he sometimes wouldnât talk at all, would just hiss at Clyde and stalk away.
Clyde thought Joeâs anger was because of Dulcieâs preoccupation; and Clyde, with Joeâs grouchy silence, had become just as bad tempered himself. A pair of surly housemates snarling at each other and at their friendsâuntil last night. Then all minor concerns, it seemed to Charlie, had been put into proper perspective.
And as sheâd descended the winter hills, Charlie had had the feeling that it all was connected: the kitâs disappearance, Dulcieâs secrecy, and Joeâs distresssomehow all linked togetherâand that those puzzling situations had a bearing on Pattyâs murder. She had no idea how that could be, but she couldnât shake the thought.
6
C rouched in the dark cabinet beneath the bathroom sink, Kit listened. Irving Fenner, having brushed his teeth and presumably shaved, seemed to have crouched down himself, just outside the cabinet door. She heard the faint hush of fabric against the sink cabinet as he knelt, imagined him reaching for the door. Two unlike creatures facing each other on either side of the thin
âI can join you. Iââ
âNo. I justâ¦wanted you to watch for her as you head down to the seniorsâ. Dulcie and Joe arenât nearly as concerned as we are. They say sheâs been gone before.â
âThe last time, she turned up in the middle of a double murder,â Charlie said. âIâll look out for her, and leave my cell phone on. Call me if I can join you.â Charlie didnât like to see her aunt so upset. Those three cats were so dear, so very special. And Kit was so damned headstrong. How could Joe and Dulcie not worry? And how did you look for one small cat, if she didnât want to be found?
In the mudroom she pulled on a pair of rubber boots, then hurried out to her van. Her cleaning crews didnât need it today; when they did, she had to use Maxâs old wreck that heâd kept for emergencies and which, they agreed, laughing, was an emergency in itself. Heading down toward the village, she drove slowly, watching the roadside and the hills, searching for that dark little hurrying tattercoat. Praying the kit was on her way home, praying she was all right. Several times she stopped to scan the trees, looking for a dark lump perched among the branches. Below her, the hills glowed brilliant green against the indigo sea. The grass, fed by the heavy rains, had sprung up tall and lush, as vibrant as living emerald. The horses could think of nothing but that tender new growth, all they wanted to do was race out and gorge on it.
Between the hills and sea, the white shore stretched away scattered with black boulders, and down to her right, the village rooftops shone with shafts of sunlight striking between dark smears of cypress and pine. Could Patty Rose, wherever shewas now, still glimpse this lovely land? Might Patty from her ethereal realm crave a last look at the dimension she had left behind?
Or did she no longer care, now that she moved in a far more fascinating realm?
Or was Patty simply gone? Was there nothing more?
Charlie didnât believe that.
Coming into the village, slowing among the cottages, she watched the streets and rooftops for Kit, trying not to let Wilmaâs distress eat at her. Maybe Joe and Dulcie were right, that Kit would show up in her own time, sassy and wondering what all the fuss was about.
But it wasnât only the missing kit that made her edgy about the cats. She was puzzled by Joe and Dulcie, too. For nearly two weeks, they had been acting so strangely. Wilma said Dulcie had hardly been home, that when she was home, she was silent and remote. Or nervous and completely distracted. And Clyde said Joe was cross as a tiger, that the tomcat was so bad tempered he sometimes wouldnât talk at all, would just hiss at Clyde and stalk away.
Clyde thought Joeâs anger was because of Dulcieâs preoccupation; and Clyde, with Joeâs grouchy silence, had become just as bad tempered himself. A pair of surly housemates snarling at each other and at their friendsâuntil last night. Then all minor concerns, it seemed to Charlie, had been put into proper perspective.
And as sheâd descended the winter hills, Charlie had had the feeling that it all was connected: the kitâs disappearance, Dulcieâs secrecy, and Joeâs distresssomehow all linked togetherâand that those puzzling situations had a bearing on Pattyâs murder. She had no idea how that could be, but she couldnât shake the thought.
6
C rouched in the dark cabinet beneath the bathroom sink, Kit listened. Irving Fenner, having brushed his teeth and presumably shaved, seemed to have crouched down himself, just outside the cabinet door. She heard the faint hush of fabric against the sink cabinet as he knelt, imagined him reaching for the door. Two unlike creatures facing each other on either side of the thin
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