Trapped in Cherry Hills Read online

  Imogene’s face brightened. “What an absolutely fantastic idea.”

  Unfortunately, Kat didn’t think the police would agree. In fact, they were more likely to berate her for meddling in their investigation. But Andrew and Chief Kenny would just have to deal with it.

  Imogene set Tom on the carpet and bustled into the kitchen. “We can make a list of suspects, complete with motives and opportunities.”

  Kat plucked a pen off the coffee table and sat down at the kitchen table. “We’ll start with her neighbors.”

  “Perfect.” Imogene snatched a piece of junk mail out of the recycle bin before dropping into the chair next to Kat’s. She grabbed the pen and started writing. “Melburn Duncan is going on the top of my list. Not only is that man insane, but he had the audacity to suggest I did it. It seems only fair I accuse him right back. This,” she said, underlining Melburn’s name three times, “is payback.”

  Kat frowned. She didn’t like the idea of organizing their suspect list based on who they wanted to stick it to the most. Then again, did it really matter whose name they listed first?

  Tom ambled over to them. After balancing on his hind feet to get a good look at the tabletop, he launched himself into the air, landing right on top of their suspect list. He planted his butt on Melburn’s name, looking immensely pleased with himself.

  Kat pulled him into her lap. The big cat laid down and began kneading her jeans with his front paws. Before long the sound of his purring filled the room.

  “We can’t discount Audrey Duncan either,” Kat said, getting back to the matter at hand.

  Imogene tapped her pen on the tabletop. “But Audrey seemed so pleasant, the complete opposite of her husband. I can’t imagine her killing someone, even a person as odious as Lenora.”

  “Even so, that cherry blossom tree obviously created a lot of ill will between Lenora and the Duncans.”

  “I suppose.” Imogene heaved a sigh before adding Audrey to her list.

  “And then there’s Veronica,” Kat said.

  Imogene looked even more dejected as she jotted down her friend’s name.

  “I ran into another neighbor while you were talking to Chief Kenny, too,” Kat went on.

  “Who?”

  “Her name is Kylie. She has a little terrier mix.”

  “Oh, yes, Kylie. Sweet girl. Her house is the one on the other side of Veronica’s. Actually, it’s her parents’ house. Her mother is a good friend of mine.”

  “So she lives with her parents? Maybe we should add them to our list too.”

  Imogene shook her head. “They’re in Europe at the moment. They haven’t been in Washington for months.”

  “Well, Kylie should go on the list, anyway. Apparently Lenora had a problem with her loud parties and barking dog.”

  Imogene scrunched up her nose. “You think Kylie would kill her over that?”

  Kat lifted one shoulder. “It’s enough to merit looking at her as a suspect, don’t you think?”

  “I guess.” Imogene started writing again.

  “You can put her boyfriend Shaun down, too. He could have offed Lenora on Kylie’s behalf.”

  “Good. Good.” Imogene scribbled furiously.

  “Say, Imogene, you didn’t happen to notice if Lenora was wearing any jewelry tonight, did you?”

  Imogene thought for a moment then shook her head. “Nothing in particular sticks out in my mind, but I didn’t really look either. Why?”

  “Kylie said Lenora was wealthy and often wore a lot of expensive gold jewelry. It’s possible whoever killed her only did so to steal her valuables.”

  “‘Random thief.’ I’ll add that to the list.”

  “And we can’t forget Lenora’s sister. If Kylie’s right about Lenora being rich, the sister could very well have killed her with the expectation that she would inherit.”

  Imogene set down her pen. “Except Ronnie said the sister lives on the East Coast.”

  “That doesn’t mean she’s not in town right now.”

  “I don’t know. It seems odd that Ronnie wouldn’t have seen the sister next door. Besides, even if she is here, why would she frame me? I don’t even know her.”

  “She might have seen you two arguing earlier and thought you’d make a good scapegoat.”

  Imogene’s lips puckered. “I suppose it’s possible.”

  “Right now, anything’s possible.” And Kat was getting too tired to think clearly. “How many suspects do we have now?”

  “Seven if you include our random thief, which I guess could be anyone.”

  Kat scanned down the list. “And as far as we know everyone on there had both motive and opportunity.”

  “Which means this case might just come down to forensic evidence.”

  “Let’s hope the police are able to lift some fingerprints off that trowel.” But even as Kat said the words she could feel her spirits sinking. If someone had been intent enough to frame Imogene, it seemed unlikely they would be so sloppy as to leave their prints on the weapon.

  Still, Kat thought, resting her hands on Tom as he continued his rhythmic kneading, perhaps they didn’t need fingerprints for that trowel to lead somewhere. If she could figure out who it belonged to, she might just know who killed Lenora. At the very least, they could pare down their suspect list to only those people with access to where it was kept.

  Kat made a mental note to swing by Lenora’s neighborhood after work tomorrow. If that trowel belonged to one of the neighbors, she was determined to find out whose it was.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The next day, Kat could barely concentrate on work. She squirmed in her seat, her eyes on the clock more than her computer screen. As soon as five o’clock hit she raced out of her office, too eager to poke around Lenora’s neighborhood to say goodbye to anyone.

  First thing on her agenda was figuring out who that gardening trowel belonged to.

  She detoured by her apartment to feed the cats and change into something more comfortable. Tom looked a bit bewildered by her whirlwind appearance, but he didn’t let that stop him from enjoying his dinner. Nothing, not even his human’s odd behavior, was going to dampen the big cat’s ravenous appetite.

  Kat made it to Lenora’s neighborhood in record time. As she circled around the cul-de-sac, she spotted a handful of people loitering in front of the house directly west of Lenora’s. It was the Duncans’ place, she realized. Except, she didn’t see the Duncans anywhere, just Veronica and a few strangers laughing and chatting, beer bottles and soda cans in hand.

  She parked by the curb and climbed out of her car. She could hear music coming from inside the house.

  Melburn Duncan’s words about throwing a party to celebrate Lenora’s death echoed through her head. Surely he wouldn’t have gone through with such a morbid idea, would he?

  The scene in front of her suggested he would indeed.

  “Kat!” Veronica broke away from the group of people and met Kat near the Duncans’ driveway. “Are you here for the, um, memorial service?”

  “Memorial service?” Kat’s words were almost drowned out by a peal of nearby laughter. “Is that what this is?”

  Veronica’s cheeks pinked. She leaned closer and whispered, “I tried to tell Melburn it would be in bad taste, but he insisted.”

  Kat considered pointing out that Veronica could have declined to attend, but what would be the point?

  Veronica shifted her soda can from one hand to the other. “I wasn’t sure I should come, but I didn’t want to seem unfriendly.”

  Kat mentally scolded herself for being so judgmental. “I understand,” she said. “Lenora obviously didn’t do much to cultivate good relationships with her neighbors. It would be unfair to expect you to mourn her death.”

  “In all honesty, I feel a little bad about not feeling bad, if that makes sense. She might not have been the friendliest woman, but no one deserves to have their life taken away by another.”

  Kat looked around, wondering if the
murderer might be celebrating right along with everyone else. Her eyes landed on the red, yellow, and purple flowers blooming along the perimeter of the Duncans’ house. She wasn’t knowledgeable enough to say what they all were, but the variety of colors certainly brightened up the property. And it was evident the plants were lovingly cared for.

  Whoever took care of those flower beds had to be quite the gardener. Could that trowel belong to the Duncans?

  “Ronnie!”

  Kat and Veronica turned around. Melburn stood by the front door, his beer bottle held aloft in greeting.

  “What are you doing all the way out there?” he shouted, his words slightly slurred. “You aren’t thinking of sneaking off, are you? This party is just getting started!”

  “I had to say hi to Kat,” Veronica yelled back.

  Melburn hobbled toward them, his steps unsteady. Kat got the distinct impression that he was drunk.

  “Kat!” Melburn’s lips stretched into a sloppy smile. “I would have invited you myself if I had known how to reach you.”

  “It’s okay.” Kat leaned back, out of range of Melburn’s potent beer breath. Despite his claim that the party had only just started, he had obviously been celebrating for much longer.

  Melburn knocked back his beer, draining the last of it. He tossed the empty bottle onto the grass, smacked his lips together, and released a belch loud enough to attract stares from the crowd gathered on the lawn.

  “Looks like I need a refill,” he said. He hooked his elbow through Kat’s. “C’mon, let’s get you something too. Ronnie, you feel free to join us.”

  Veronica held up her soda can. “I’m good for now, Melburn. You two have fun.”

  Kat let Melburn drag her a few steps across the yard. When she was fairly certain he wouldn’t keel over if forced to support himself, she slipped her arm out of his.

  The music was louder inside the house, but not so loud as to discourage conversation. One of the Duncans apparently liked the oldies, which wasn’t so surprising given their ages.

  “Audrey!” Melburn called out, lurching across the living room.

  “Mellie!” Audrey’s jaw dropped. “Are you drunk?”

  “Nah, just enjoying myself.” He grabbed her arm with both hands and planted a loud kiss on her cheek. “You look gorgeous, my dear.”

  Audrey blushed. “You are drunk.” She said it in a chiding tone, but Kat could tell she was pleased by the compliment.

  “Kat here needs a drink,” Melburn said.

  Audrey smiled at Kat. “What would you like?”

  “Oh, uh . . .”

  Her train of thought was derailed when she spied movement outside the window. There, creeping along the tree line that marked the end of the Duncans’ property and the beginning of the woods, was Mustang. The gray tom was hunched low to the ground, his eyes locked on to something in the distance. Kat scanned the yard, but she didn’t see any other animals. She could only figure he was stalking a mouse or some other small rodent.

  She held her breath as Mustang inched forward. She had never truly seen a wild cat on the hunt before. Sure, Matty and Tom went through the motions with their toys and each other, but that was more for fun than anything. The way the feral was moving, with slow, deliberate footsteps, it was clear he took his hunts much more seriously than either of her indoor cats.

  But of course he would, Kat thought. After all, for Mustang this wasn’t a game. If he failed to catch his prey there wasn’t a bowl of kibble waiting for him somewhere. Who knew how long it would be before another opportunity to eat arose?

  “Kat?” Audrey said.

  Kat yanked her attention back to her hostess. “Oh, sorry. I was just . . . admiring your flowers.”

  Audrey beamed. “Why, thank you.”

  “It’s obvious you take good care of them,” Kat went on. “What’s your secret?”

  “Attention,” Melburn piped up. “Just like a woman, flowers need lots of TLC.”

  Audrey rolled her eyes. “Ignore him. He knows nothing about gardening.”

  “Hey, I bought you that nice potting bench, didn’t I?” Melburn said.

  “That you did.” Audrey smiled at Kat. “He gave it to me for our fortieth wedding anniversary. Wasn’t that sweet of him?”

  “It was,” Kat agreed.

  She had to bite her tongue to keep from asking about trowels. But if one of the Duncans had killed Lenora, cluing them in to her suspicions would be foolish.

  She cleared her throat. “Well, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll pass on that drink for now. I’d like to mingle for a while first.”

  Melburn waved her off. “Knock yourself out.”

  Kat’s heart rate accelerated as she distanced herself from the Duncans. She had to find out if that trowel was theirs.

  She looked around. Where would a person set up a potting bench? The backyard seemed like the logical place to start.

  She made her way over to the sliding glass door embedded in the rear wall. With a quick peek at the Duncans to make sure they weren’t watching, she slipped outside.

  A few partygoers were out here, including Shaun. He didn’t notice her, too busy talking to another man. They both stood on the far side of the lawn near what had to be the infamous cherry blossom tree. Kat wondered if they’d chosen that spot as a snub to Lenora.

  She shook her head. She needed to focus on finding that potting bench.

  She didn’t have to look hard. The bench sat next to the house only a few feet from where she was standing. It looked similar to a desk, and featured a workspace, one lone drawer, a narrow upper shelf, and a wider lower shelf.

  There was also a latticed back where hand tools hung on hooks. Taking inventory, she saw a small rake, some sort of miniature hoe, and a three-pronged thingamajig whose function eluded her.

  What she didn’t see was a trowel.

  She searched the shelves. When she failed to spot anything noteworthy lying in plain sight, she slid the drawer open. Inside lay a pair of beat-up gardening gloves and some seed packets, but no trowel.

  She closed the drawer, at a loss over where to look next. Then she noticed the handles of the three tools in front of her. Made of wood, the color, length, and shape looked identical to the handle of the trowel found in Imogene’s car.

  That trowel had definitely belonged to the Duncans.

  But did that mean one of them was guilty? Given how their property wasn’t fenced in, it wouldn’t have been difficult for anyone to wander into their backyard and steal it.

  Which left her no closer to figuring out who had killed Lenora than she had been the night before.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kat hung around the Duncans’ place until seven o’clock. She had hoped one of the partygoers might tell her something that cracked Lenora’s case wide open, but, as it turned out, nobody wanted to talk about the dead woman. In fact, most of the Duncans’ guests didn’t even know who she was or that her death had been the catalyst for the impromptu Monday night gathering. They all seemed to be under the impression that the Duncans had merely been in a festive mood when they’d called out of the blue to invite them over.

  Kat left the Duncans’ feeling disappointed and dejected. She was pretty sure that trowel had been Audrey’s, but other than that—mostly useless, she realized now—discovery, the whole evening had been a bust. She would much rather have spent the time playing with Matty and Tom.

  At least she was headed home now, she thought with a smile.

  But all thoughts of relaxing with her cats evaporated when she noticed lights ablaze behind the closed curtains of Lenora’s house. She supposed Andrew or Chief Kenny could have let themselves inside, except she didn’t see either of their vehicles parked in the cul-de-sac.

  So who could be in the house?

  Kat stood there, debating over what to do. Calling the police was definitely a good option. Or she could just go knock on the door and see who answered. After all, the person inside might not be up to no good. They
probably wouldn’t have turned the lights on if they were.

  Her mind made up, Kat strode up Lenora’s driveway and rang the doorbell. Then she waited.

  It took close to a minute before the door swung open. An older woman stood there, a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose. Her gray hair and the stoop in her stance led Kat to believe she was in her seventies at first glance. But then she looked up, and Kat noticed she barely had any wrinkles on her face.

  “You looking for Lenora?” the woman asked.

  Kat shook her head, wondering how best to explain her presence. After a brief internal debate, she opted for honesty. “I saw a light on and thought I should check it out.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” The woman squinted at Kat over her readers. “You part of a neighborhood watch or something?”

  “I actually don’t live in this neighborhood.” Kat frowned. “Who are you though?”

  “The name’s Ethel. I’m Lenora’s sister.”

  Kat stilled, remembering her theory about the sister murdering Lenora for money. “Have you been here all weekend?”

  “All weekend?” Ethel shook her head. “I just flew in. The taxi dropped me off here not ten minutes ago, after I picked up the key from a very nice young policeman. You heard Lenora died, didn’t you?”

  “I did. And I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Eh. Twasn’t much of a loss.”

  Ethel’s cavalier tone sent Kat scooting backward a step.

  “We weren’t what you’d call close,” Ethel continued. “Don’t get me wrong, she was family and I’m sad she’s dead. But she wasn’t a huge part of my life.”

  Kat wondered if Lenora had nitpicked Ethel’s behavior as much as she had her neighbors’.

  “Did you know my sis?” Ethel asked.

  “I met her.” Kat stopped there, hoping Ethel wouldn’t ask for details.

  “Well, then you might as well come in.” Ethel moved aside and held the door open.

  Kat hesitated only briefly before stepping over the threshold.

  With stark-white walls and solid brown carpet, Lenora’s living area looked more like an institutional waiting room than a place to relax. Ignoring the rolling suitcase that Kat presumed belonged to Ethel, there weren’t any paintings, afghans, throw pillows, or other homey touches, just two utilitarian sofas facing a rather small television. An end table occupied the space next to one of the couches, but that was it in terms of furnishings. It was almost as if Lenora didn’t expect visitors and had no reason to make anyone feel welcome.