The Cat, the Mill and the Murder: A Cats in Trouble Mystery Read Online Free PDF

talking about?”
    “Right now I have to entertain the possibility that Jeannie’s daughter
didn’t
go missing.” Candace said. “Maybe Kay Ellen is with her. Or what if Jeannie went into hiding because she did wrong by that girl?”
    “I said, “Could the reason she went into hiding be because she was heartbroken about losing her daughter?”
    Candace’s gaze went to the ceiling as she considered this possibility. Then she said, “Plausible, but I do recall Morris mentioning talk of foul play—at least as far as the girl was concerned. Gotta go back over the file.” She hit her forehead with the heel of her hand. “Why didn’t I pay more attention to the details?”
    “You were a brand-new officer—how old were you five years ago? Twenty? You thought—”
    “That’s not an excuse. I was supposed to examine those cold cases and see if anything had been missed. And obviously I screwed up.” She looked at Dustin. “Nice meeting you. Welcome to Mercy.”
    She got up, hurried through the kitchen and out the back door.
    Dustin’s “Bye” came too late for Candace to hear.
    Wow
. Candace seemed pretty upset with herself. I understood she felt the need to be perfect, to have theanswers before anyone else, but obviously dismissing Morris’s suggestion bothered her—a lot.
    I smiled at Dustin. “Can we keep this business to ourselves until we see what Candace digs up? See, this town generates enough gossip to run a power plant. I want to call in a few favors from the charities I’ve worked with.”
    “Whatever Candace wants,” he said. “She seems to know what she’s doing even if she’s being hard on herself.”
    “She does know what she’s doing,” I said, smiling to myself. “We’ll give her a chance before the whole town council gets up in arms about more than feral cats.”
    Seemed I now had more leverage with Dustin Gray than I did prior to Candace’s visit.
    Nice.

Four
    I didn’t need to tell Dustin that head Councilwoman Penelope Webber was the interfering type. He’d witnessed her behavior firsthand in several meetings. So before he left my house, he asked what he should say if she phoned for an update about our visit to the mill.
    I suggested he let his calls go to voicemail for the next several hours. Meanwhile, if I had news for him, I’d make a direct call to the Pink House, the local bed-and-breakfast where he was staying.
    Only Chablis joined me when I settled on the couch with my phone and my charity contact list. She loved when my lap was free for her—and since no boy cats were hanging around, she settled right down. Merlot and Syrah had journeyed down to the basement in pursuit of whatever creature I must have let inside earlier.
    I immediately started phoning people connected to the organizations where I donated my time and my quilts. Most of my contacts were with people who helped pets, children or returning soldiers. But I figured six degrees of separation applied here. Turned out it was only three degrees of separation. A friend of a friend gave me the name of a gentleman named Harry Williams who ran the Upstate Homeless Partnership—better known as “UHP.”
    Unfortunately, Dustin wasn’t the only person letting his calls go to voicemail. Forced to leave a message, I hoped Mr. Williams would get back to me before Candace made a decision on how best to help Jeannie. I wanted the chance to offer resources other than the local social services.
    My task completed, I gently lifted a sleeping Chablis off my lap and set her on the quilted throw at the other end of the couch. I decided this gloomy day required tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. But before I was done preparing lunch, my friend Tom Stewart called and said he was on the way over. I added two more sandwiches to the frying pan.
    Truth be told, Tom and I were more than friends. I cared for him deeply and he’d recently told me he was in love with me. But though I had strong feelings for him, I still