Orphaned in Cherry Hills Read online

  Orphaned in Cherry Hills

  A Cozy Cat Caper Mystery

  Book 17

  Paige Sleuth

  Copyright © 2017 Marla Bradeen (writing as Paige Sleuth)

  All rights reserved.

  Published by Marla Bradeen.

  This book or portions of it (excluding brief quotations) may not be reproduced without prior written permission from the publisher/author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), actual businesses, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If this ebook copy was not purchased by or for you, please purchase your own copy before reading. Thank you for respecting this author’s work.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  FATAL FÊTE IN CHERRY HILLS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  “You want me to what?” Katherine Harper said, sure she had misunderstood.

  “I’d like you to mentor this girl,” Willow Wu repeated.

  So she had heard right the first time. “But why?”

  “Because I think you have the potential to reach her in ways that I and her other teachers can’t.”

  Kat glanced at Matty and Tom, her two cats, as they sat face-to-face in the center of the living room. Matty had been in the middle of grooming Tom’s head, but now she paused to crook one eye in Kat’s direction. The yellow-and-brown tortoiseshell seemed just as skeptical of her human’s mentoring abilities as Kat herself.

  Willow leaned forward, her chin-length, black hair framing her Asian features. “Julie is headed in a bad direction,” she said. “The kids she’s chosen to hang around with, they’re not the best influences. I’m afraid if somebody doesn’t help to set her straight soon, she’ll eventually be too far gone to reach.”

  “But why me?” Kat asked. “I’m not really the mentoring type.”

  “Have you ever mentored anybody?”

  “No.” Kat sat up straighter. “But that just proves my point. I wouldn’t have a clue what I was doing. And I haven’t been in high school for fifteen years. I’m sure I’ve forgotten everything I learned back then.”

  “She needs a mentor, not a tutor.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “A tutor helps with school curriculum. A mentor helps with forging a path to a bright future.”

  “Forging a path to a bright future?” Kat barked out a laugh. “I don’t know anything about that.”

  “Sure you do. You put yourself through college, then set out to build a career doing what you love, didn’t you?”

  Kat frowned. Put that way, she sounded much more competent than she felt.

  The cats interrupted the conversation when Tom pounced on Matty, sending them both rolling over Willow’s feet. When they stopped tumbling, Tom pinned Matty to the floor and clamped his jaws around her neck. Matty retaliated by grabbing his head so she could kick his chin using both of her hind feet. She didn’t hold back, and the resigned look on Tom’s face as he braced himself for the beating sent a bubble of laughter floating up Kat’s chest.

  Sometimes Kat wondered if the felines thought it was their duty to entertain apartment visitors. Before Willow showed up, they had both been sound asleep.

  Willow refocused on Kat when Matty chased Tom out of the room. “This girl, Julie Conway, she’s in a dark place right now. She has a lot of potential, but she doesn’t apply herself. Instead of the carefully thought-out answers I used to receive from her on tests and homework, now her work is sloppy. I sense she’s losing all interest in academics—not a surprise given the attitudes of the classmates she’s chosen to hang out with.”

  Kat felt a smile flicker across her face. “Are you going to ask me to mentor them next?”

  Willow’s mouth twitched in amusement. “Why don’t we stick with Julie first.”

  “Okay, so what’s so special about this girl? Why help her and not her friends?”

  “Because I get the sense she wants to excel, only she’s afraid it would alienate her from the group she’s fallen into. She’s smart—not a quality that’s necessarily appreciated by the sixteen-year-old age bracket.” Willow paused. “Kat, this girl, she doesn’t get much validation at home. Sometimes in class—when I can get her to participate—it only takes a tiny bit of encouragement for her to light up. But almost immediately she starts to shut down again, as if she’s remembering she shouldn’t be interested in grades and learning. It just breaks my heart.”

  A blur of yellow, brown, and black tore into the room. This time, Tom was in pursuit of Matty instead of the other way around. When the cats reached the center of the living room, Matty collapsed onto her side and used one hind leg to keep Tom at bay as he circled around her, eyeing Matty as he would a juicy piece of steak.

  “I hate to label kids as bad, but this crowd she’s started to spend time with is definitely troubled.” Willow blew out a breath. “And I suppose Julie, being a troubled teen herself, figures that makes them allies.”

  “I get why you’re concerned, but I’m not sure I can help.” Kat felt unexpectedly vulnerable as she peered at her friend. “I’m not really . . . strong enough to mentor a kid.”

  “Not strong enough?”

  “I’m not good with kids.” What she really meant was that young people made her nervous. She remembered how sensitive she was at sixteen, and how one wrong word could send her spiraling into a crippling bout of self-doubt. It was too much pressure.

  “She’s not really a kid,” Willow said. “I mean, she is, but . . .”

  Kat didn’t say anything. It was obvious Willow was struggling to figure out something to convince Kat to change her mind.

  She finally sighed. “Kat, sometimes in class she gets this look on her face.”

  “What look?”

  “Like she’s lost.”

  Kat leaned back on the couch, memories of her own teenage years flashing through her head. She knew the lost feeling all too well. “I still don’t get why you’re asking me to talk to her.”

  “For starters, Julie’s interested in computers. I was thinking you could tell her about what you did to get into programming. Maybe you could even take her to your office and show her around.”

  Kat could feel her resolve melting. “Her parents wouldn’t mind her tagging along with a stranger?”

  “You can ask her aunt, but I doubt she’d mind.”

  “Her aunt?”

  “Her aunt has custody of her.” Willow pressed her lips together. “That’s another thing. Judging from my rare interactions with her, the aunt isn’t too invested in Julie. In fact, I suspect part of the reason Julie acts out is to get her attention.”

  “Where are her parents?”

  Willow spread her hands. “Gone.”

  Kat’s chest tightened. Having grown up in foster care, she knew how the absence of parents could leave behind a longing so deep it sometimes became difficult to breathe.

  “Her father’s dead,” Willow said.

  “And her mom?” Kat asked.

  “She died not long after he did.” Willow took a deep breath. “Kat, she was murdered. And her killer has never been found.”
<
br />   CHAPTER TWO

  Kat couldn’t stop fidgeting Thursday evening as she waited for Julie at Jessie’s Diner. She’d chosen a booth in one corner, both for privacy and so she’d have a second to check out Willow’s student before they officially met. The words troubled teen had brought to mind images of rude tattoos and grotesque facial piercings. If the girl she’d built up in her head was anything close to reality she might need a moment to brace herself.

  But the young woman who ambled into the restaurant fifteen minutes past five sported a thin metal ring hooked through her bottom lip, but no other obvious body jewelry. And not a single speck of ink marred her creamy white skin. Willow said she was sixteen, but with heavy makeup caked on her face, jeans that hung low on slim hips, and a midriff-baring top that seemed too skimpy for mid-March in Central Washington, she could easily pass for eighteen.

  She looked bored as she scanned the dining area. Kat lifted up her hand to get her attention. Spotting her, Julie’s expression didn’t change. If anything, her shoulders slumped even more as she trudged across the restaurant, dragging her feet as though she were being led to a firing squad.

  The pressure that had been building inside Kat’s chest increased. Evidently, Julie had also been roped into this meeting against her will.

  But there was no backing out now.

  Julie stopped three feet from Kat’s table and reached up to twirl a lock of her long, brown hair around one finger. “Are you Mrs. Harper?”

  Kat smiled. “I am, but call me Kat.”

  Julie shrugged as if it made no difference to her.

  Kat swept her arm toward the empty booth seat opposite her. “Please sit down.”

  Julie plopped into the seat and folded her arms across her chest. Her eyes ricocheted around the room, landing on everything but Kat.

  Obviously Kat would need to be the one to carry this conversation. “So, Julie, Willow tells me you’re interested in computers.”

  “I guess.”

  Kat slapped a big smile on her face. “Well, I work with computers! I’m a programmer analyst at DataRightly.”

  She swore Julie sighed.

  “If you’d like, you could come with me to my office one day,” Kat offered. “I could show you what I do.”

  Julie grimaced. “I’m more into hardware.”

  “Oh.” Thanks a lot, Willow. Her friend was going to owe her big time after this. “So . . . you live with your aunt, huh?”

  Julie’s eyes met Kat’s for a split second before they skittered away. “Yeah. So?”

  “So . . . I didn’t grow up with my parents either.” Kat had to force the words out of her mouth. It wasn’t easy for her to talk about her past. “I don’t know much about my father, and my mother left me a long time ago. I didn’t reconnect with her again until recently.”

  “So she’s alive,” Julie said.

  “Yes. She lives in Oregon.”

  Disappointment flashed in Julie’s eyes, and guilt clenched Kat’s insides. She should have known bonding over their mothers was a bad idea. Kat’s mother might not have been around much, but at least she was still breathing. In contrast, Julie had no hope of ever seeing her mother again, thanks to one horrific act that had irrevocably changed both their lives forever.

  “Tell me about her,” Kat said. “Your own mother, I mean.” Willow hadn’t known any of the details about the murder. All she had been able to tell her was Julie’s mother’s name—Carolyn Conway—and that she and Julie had been living in Seattle when it happened.

  Julie’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you care?”

  Kat wracked her brain for an answer that might get Julie to open up. “Because I never had a mother who was there for me. I’d like to know what it was like.”

  After sizing Kat up for a long moment, Julie slid lower in her seat. “She was the best.”

  Her voice cracked on the last word, and tears filled her eyes. Kat’s heart melted a little. Given how broken and small she looked right now, Kat couldn’t believe she’d ever thought Julie could pass for eighteen.

  Kat plucked a menu from behind the napkin dispenser to give Julie a moment to compose herself. “You want to order anything? The milkshakes here are great.”

  Julie shook her head. “I’m on a diet.”

  The last thing the girl needed was to lose weight, but Kat kept her opinion to herself.

  Julie brushed the tears from her cheeks. “You know, you’re the first person to ask about my mom in a long time.”

  Kat flushed. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, I like it.” Julie averted her eyes, seeming embarrassed by the admission. “I like talking about her. I’m afraid I’ll forget her otherwise.”

  “You don’t talk about her with your aunt?”

  Julie reared back. “No way.”

  “Why not?”

  “She refuses.”

  Kat considered that. “Is she your mother’s sister?”

  Julie nodded.

  “Well, maybe what happened is too painful for her to deal with,” Kat proposed. “But if you’d like to tell me about your mother, I’d love to listen.”

  Julie fiddled with her lip ring, eyeing Kat as though she were attempting to gauge her sincerity. Kat must have passed whatever test she’d been subjected to because a moment later Julie started speaking.

  “Mom was this life force,” she began. “Like, everything made her laugh. You know what I’m talking about?”

  “I think so.”

  “I mean, she didn’t laugh all the time. She went through this depression phase after my dad died, but that’s only normal, right?”

  “Sure, that had to have been hard on her.”

  “Yeah.” Julie slouched against the booth seat. “Mom joined a support group a couple weeks after his death. Some kind of talk therapy thing for widowed people. It seemed to help.”

  “How did your father die?”

  “Heart attack. One day he was there, and the next he was dead. No warning, no nothing.”

  Kat’s chest constricted. “I’m sorry.”

  Julie shrugged. “I didn’t really know him all that well. He traveled for work all the time. And even when he was home he was still working. He never had time to just chill. Mom thought that was what killed him, the stress.”

  “Even if you weren’t close, his death still had to have been hard.”

  “I guess.” Sorrow clouded Julie’s expression. “Mom’s death was a lot harder.”

  Kat ran her tongue around her mouth, working out how to phrase her next statement. “I heard she was murdered.”

  Julie nodded.

  “And the police never found the person who killed her?” Kat asked.

  “Nope.” Julie peeked at Kat, and the pain Kat saw reflected in her brown eyes took her breath away. “It’s my fault, you know.”

  Kat frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “She’d still be alive if I hadn’t been away that night. I was at my friend Mackenzie’s sleepover when it happened.” Her face crumpled. “If I had stayed home, Mom wouldn’t have died.”

  “Oh, Julie,” Kat breathed, at a loss for words. Sitting across from this brokenhearted girl, she could see why Willow wanted to help her.

  Julie’s eyes glistened with tears. “Do you think she felt any pain?”

  Kat’s mouth went dry. How did she answer that? The word murder implied a somewhat painful death, but Julie’s pleading tone suggested she was desperate to believe otherwise.

  Kat decided to go for the most ambiguous response possible. “I don’t know.”

  Julie stared across the restaurant. “I guess I’ll never know.”

  “Maybe you could ask someone more familiar with the case,” Kat suggested. “Like your aunt.”

  Julie’s tears disappeared in an instant. “Aunt Elsa won’t tell me anything. She hates me.”

  “I doubt that’s true. She took you in after your mother died, didn’t she?”

  “That’s only because she didn’t have a choice.
She’s Mom’s only living relative. But I’m just a big burden to her.” Julie’s tone was casual, but Kat could tell from the way her jaw twitched that the situation bothered her. “Because of me, she had to move into a bigger house and pick up extra waitressing shifts to pay the rent.”

  “She can’t blame you for that,” Kat said.

  Julie started playing with her lip ring again. “She probably wishes she had left me at Old Franny’s.”

  Kat cocked her head to one side. “Old Franny’s?”

  “Oh, I mean Mrs. Dearborn.” Julie peeked up at Kat from under thick lashes as though to gauge whether she was offended.

  But Kat was too preoccupied by the familiarity of the name. “I had a foster mother named Fran Dearborn once.”

  Julie straightened, a spark lighting up her eyes. “She was my foster mom, too. Right after Mom died.”

  “You were in foster care?”

  “Yeah, before Aunt Elsa got saddled with me.”

  To say Kat was surprised Ms. Dearborn was still fostering was an understatement. She had to have been in her sixties when Kat was in her care, which meant she must be in her eighties now. Kat figured she had probably quit years ago, if not because of her age then because of her lack of enthusiasm for the job. She’d never struck Kat as being that engaged with her charges.

  “Were you in foster care here, in Cherry Hills?” Kat asked.

  Julie shook her head. “Seattle.”

  Kat wondered when Ms. Dearborn had relocated. Then her thoughts shifted to Carolyn Conway. What would Ms. Dearborn be able to tell her about the murder? Although Kat had never felt particularly close to her old foster mother, questioning her about the details seemed preferable to grilling Julie, who obviously still harbored some survivor’s guilt over the incident. And she had to assume Ms. Dearborn knew something about the case, given that she’d taken in Julie right after it had happened.

  Maybe I’ll pay her a visit this weekend, Kat thought.

  “Pay who a visit?” Julie asked.

  Kat hadn’t realized she’d spoken the words out loud. “Ms. Dearborn.”

  Julie scrunched up her nose. “Why would you do that?”

  Kat pondered over how much to confess. She had no clue whether talking to Ms. Dearborn would lead to anything, and she didn’t want to get Julie’s hopes up. “I guess I’m curious what she’s up to. I haven’t seen her in twenty years.”