Cat-Eye Witness (A Klepto Cat Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

asked.
    “Yes, coffee, black. Thanks.”
    Max then asked the women who were chatting in the kitchen to join the others on the porch. He walked over to Charlotte’s mother and spoke softly. “You might want to keep your daughter away from the front of the house. They’ll be bringing out the body soon.”
    Reba, a plump woman of barely five-four, looked up at Max. She wiped a few strands of her brown highlighted hair from one cheek. “Sure.” The pair looked in the direction of the lovely teen who was laughing with her friend Dora. “She had the best time today,” Reba said. “It’s so nice of you all to include her the way you do.”
    “Charlotte is a wonderful girl and she sure loves cats,” he said. He then grew pensive. “She has a way with them, you know?”
    Just then, the child walked over to them. “Hi Makth.”
    “Hi Charlotte. You have sure been a big help today. Did you have fun?”
    “Yeth. Loth of fun. I like it here,” she responded with her lisp; a wide smile on her face. “I like wearing cowboy thingth,” she added, lifting her tangerine calico print skirt up to her knees by the ruffle. She looked down at her beaded moccasins. “Theeth are my momth thooth,”
    Dora walked up and took Charlotte’s hand. “ Let’s go out and watch the sunset, shall we cowgirl?”
    “Okay.” The girl laughed, her soft red curls bouncing as she hurried along toward the door.
    After leading the women out to the porch, Max caught Savannah’s attention. “Would you get the gentleman in the kitchen a cup of black coffee? He’s going to question us. George, go on in.” He pointed. “Through that door halfway down the porch, there.”
    ***
    Most of the guests were questioned and had left by the time Iris was called.
    “Do you have to interrogate my boys?” she asked as she settled into one of the wooden kitchen chairs across from the detective.
    Sledge looked up from his notes. “How old are they?”
    “Fourteen and fifteen.”
    “You can sit in here with them when I question them.”
    “Why? They’re only boys. They certainly didn’t see anything,” she reasoned.
    He looked her square in the eyes. “How do you know that?”
    Iris held his stare just long enough to notice the flecks in his blue eyes and his long lashes.
    “For the record, what’s your name?”
    “Iris Clampton.”
    “I see that you have red hair,” he said, still looking at her.
    “Well, yes. Why?” She ran her fingers through the ends of her straightened hair. She thought she could feel his eyes burn into her face. She looked away.
    He asked, “Was there anyone else here today with hair the color of yours?”
    “What? What are you talking about?” She looked up at him and realized this was a legitimate question, so she responded. “Yes, I saw several people here today with red hair. Why?”
    “Okay, Ms. Clampton, just tell me what you know about the deceased.”
    “Nothing. I don’t know him at all.”
    He paused before asking, “Does the name Marvin Byrd ring any bells?”
    Iris shook her head slowly. “No. Is…was that his name?”
    “Yes, at least we think so. We’ll know more when we print him or get someone to ID him. So you didn’t know him? Did you see him here today? I mean at the party?”
    She leaned forward. “I didn’t see him until we all had to look at him dead in that bedroom.”
    “Now, he would look different if he were living. Think about what he was wearing—jeans, bold striped polo shirt, sport shoes…anything?”
    Iris searched her memory. “No. Nothing at all.”
    “According to his driver’s license, he was forty-three.” Sledge continued to stare.
    Iris squirmed in her chair. Her response was abrupt: “I don’t know him and I didn’t see him at the party.”
    “Okay. Got it.” He tapped a few times on the tabletop. “Now, I hear there’s money missing.”
    Iris felt herself wilt a little in the chair. “God, yes. I’d almost forgotten about that. It has not been a good