Cat on the Scent

            “It doesn’t concern Mom no matter how far away or how close it is.” Pewter had taken to calling Harry Mom even though she had been raised by Market Shiflett and she occasionally helped out in the store.

            “This is a small town. Everything concerns everybody and we led Mom to what may become damaging evidence for someone else. We were stupid.” Murphy realized her mistake.

            “I never thought of that.” Tucker pressed closer to Harry.

            “Me neither. I wish I had.”

            “Don’t worry until they find a body,” Pewter said.

            “Whoever landed that plane had guts. The fog that night was thick as Mrs. Hogendobber’s gravy. Bold ones like that do things other people don’t dream of, they take wild chances. Whoever was with Tommy probably killed him, which means I saw the killer. I couldn’t tell you one thing about him, though, except that he was shorter than Van Allen. But whoever killed Tommy can’t be but so far away.”

            “You don’t know that.” Pewter played devil’s advocate.

            “But I do.” Mrs. Murphy dashed ahead a few paces. “What would someone far away have to gain by removing Tommy Van Allen—”

            “And removing H. Vane-Tempest,” Tucker interrupted.

            “He’s still hanging on.” Pewter wasn’t convinced.

            Mrs. Murphy continued her thoughts. “If Van Allen has some distant relatives who might inherit his construction business, well, it might be someone far away, but I doubt that’s the case.”

            “Everyone will know when his will is read.” Pewter shrugged.

            “Since no one knows that he’s dead yet the will won’t be read. His property will stay intact,” Murphy said, her tail straight out horizontally.

            “Someone has to run the business.” Tucker began to feel uneasy.

            “Whoever is vice president of his corporation will. But think about it, it doesn’t matter who runs the business. What matters is where the profits go. And they won’t go into anyone’s pocket until he is legally declared dead.”

            “Mrs. Murphy, if the killer stands to profit from Tommy’s death then the body must be revealed.” Pewter was hungry and frustrated. This didn’t make a bit of sense to her.

            “Exactly.”

            “I don’t get it,” Tucker forthrightly said, her voice high.

            “Be patient.” Mrs. Murphy smiled at them as they caught up to walk beside her. “Whoever killed Tommy is in no hurry. I don’t know what Virginia laws say about when you’re legally declared dead, but I guarantee you our killer knows. Someone has a great deal to gain by this.”

            “Could be love gone sour.” Pewter searched for a different tack.

            “Could be.” Murphy inhaled the sharp fragrance of the shed bursting with wood shavings.

            Pewter was happy they were home.

            Tucker was growing more concerned by the minute. “You’re making me nervous.”

            “Maybe we’re looking at this from the wrong angle.” Mrs. Murphy bounced through the screen door when Harry opened it. She liked to let Harry open it. It wouldn’t do for Harry to know all her tricks. “Maybe the question is, what do Tommy Van Allen and H. Vane have in common?”

            “Nothing,” Pewter said.

            Tucker demurred. “Plenty.”

            The two animals looked at each other as Harry wiped off the kitchen counter and pulled out cans of food.