Cat on the Scent

            “Sarah, you have the legal right to remain silent,” Vane-Tempest forcefully said. “This has been a dreadful situation. You take a deep breath. You’re safe now.”

            “Am I?” She put her face in her hands.

            “Put your hands behind your back, sir.”

            “Rick, I killed him in self-defense. You’re making a mistake.”

            “That may be true, but for right now, the handcuffs go on.” Rick snapped the steel bracelets on quickly.

            “Don’t handcuff him. He had no choice.” Sarah wiped her eyes. “Archie abducted me from our home after locking H. in my closet.”

            “Why would he do that?” Rick put his gun in its holster.

            “Because I was having an affair with him. He wanted us to ride off into the sunset together.” She didn’t realize the irony of her words as the gorgeous sunset deepened.

            “You knew about this?” Cynthia directed this to the handcuffed Sir H. Vane-Tempest.

            “I did. Yes.”

            “Oh, H., I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never thought he’d try to kill you.” She walked over to her husband and threw her arms around his neck.

            “I’m an old man. You’re a young and beautiful woman. Maybe one of the most beautiful women on the face of the earth,” he whispered.

            Another squad car pulled up along with the Crozet Rescue Squad. Diana Robb had had a busy day.

            Rick motioned to his officers to go slow, then he put his hand under Vane-Tempest’s elbow. “Let’s go down to HQ.”

            “May I phone my lawyer?”

            “When we get there.”

            “Do I have to wear these?”

            “Until we get to the station, you do. Come on, before the goddamned television crews get out here.” That made the old man pick up his feet.

            Sarah slid into the backseat next to her husband. She never looked backward at Archie, sprawled on the ground, her snub-nosed .38 in his right hand.

            57

            Mim watched with her aunt as the last of the police cars drove out.

            “Shall we go down there?” Mim asked.

            “Not in the dark. Let’s go in the morning.” Tally watched the flickering red-and-blue lights. “Mimsy, stay here tonight, please.”

            “Of course.”

            58

            News of Archie’s death spread like a prairie fire.

            Susan Tucker burst through the kitchen door to tell Harry, who’d already heard it via telephone from Mrs. Hogendobber, who’d heard it from Mim, who’d heard it from Rick Shaw.

            “I can’t believe Archie would kidnap Sarah.” Harry lay at one end of the sofa while Susan stretched out on the other end. The cats joined them, stretched across the back. Tucker curled up on the wing chair nearby.

            “Well, he did,” Susan matter-of-factly stated.

            “Bull,” Pewter said.

            “Sex does short-circuit people’s brains,” Tucker agreed with Susan. “But why would Archie shoot Blair?”

            “Her car was parked at Blair’s when we found him,” Mrs. Murphy said.

            “Well, why would she go to Blair’s?” Pewter stretched her hind leg straight out for grooming.

            “Pewter, do that later. I hate that licking sound when I’m having a conversation,” Harry ordered.

            “Priss,” Pewter complained, but nonetheless tucked her hind leg under her.

            “All the girls go to Blair’s,” Tucker said.

            “Archie was at Blair’s, too. He didn’t kidnap Sarah,” Murphy said.

            “Blair must know that. When his mind is clear and he feels better.” Pewter tried to think who else might know.

            “Archie was moving out,” Mrs. Murphy continued. “She went there for him. Archie didn’t kidnap her.”

            “He’s not here to defend himself,” Tucker sagely noted.

            Murphy lay down. “A wasted life, Archie’s.”

            “H. is out on bail.” Susan put her hands behind her head. “Big surprise.”

            “Was Sarah harmed?”

            “No. She says Archie kidnapped her. He wanted to live with her. He wanted her to run away. He didn’t mean to harm her.”

            “What do you think?” Harry asked.

            “I don’t know what to think. I’m glad it’s over.”

            “Is it? We still don’t know who killed Tommy Van Allen.”

            “Sarah confessed to Rick Shaw that Archie confessed to her that he killed Tommy over a drug deal gone sour.”

            “I don’t believe it,” Harry said.

            “He did not,” Murphy protested.

            “Hush. You’ve had enough to eat.”

            “Sarah shot H. Vane. I don’t know who killed Tommy Van Allen but she shot H.” Murphy stuck to her guns.

            “She gets a notion…” Harry commented on Murphy’s conversation.

            “And they’re usually on the money,” Tucker said.

            “Thank you.” Murphy rested her head on her paws. “We’d better get over to Tally’s place tomorrow. First light.”

            “Why so early?” Pewter moaned.