Cat Under Fire A Joe Grey Mystery by Shirley Rousseau Murphy

Author:Shirley Rousseau Murphy [Shirley Rousseau Murphy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-07-16T21:00:00+00:00

Now, as Mama came wandering into the kitchen, shuffling along in her soft slippers, Frances poured the coffee and set the pot on the table beside a plate of day-old cookies. Mama sighed and settled into her chair. The room had begun to smell of baking, the hot, peachy scent of turnovers from the oven soon overpowering the barroom stench. Dulcie sniffed appreciatively and leaped up to Mama's lap, prepared for a little snack. Whoever said cats didn't like sweets didn't know much.

Curled up against Mama's fat tummy, watching Mama nibble a cookie, she shuttered her eyes against the likely event of spilled crumbs. Interesting that Frances seemed to have no compunction about loading the old lady up on sugar and fat—but maybe Frances had her reasons.

She curled into a little ball, hoping Mama wouldn't spill hot coffee. Mama herself seemed irritable this morning. She nibbled her cookie, sipped her coffee, but said little. Dulcie was drifting into sleep when Frances said, "Mama, you're going to have to make up your mind."

"About what?"

"You know about what; about what I told you at breakfast."

Dulcie was wide-awake. She had missed something when she went out earlier.

"I have made up my mind. Made it up long ago."

"Mama, all you've done is avoid the issue. You know the right thing to do."

"Not going to the police."

"You have to go, Mama. You know the police think someone is withholding evidence. They'll search until they find out who."

"Nonsense. Where would they get such an idea?"

"It was on the local news, I told you. The seven o'clock news."

Mama sat up straighter, jamming Dulcie against the edge of the table, forcing her to change position. "You're making that up."

"They think one of the neighbors saw something that weekend—didn't report it."

"What would make them think such a thing?"

"I don't know, Mama. I don't know how the police get their information."

"This is rubbish." Mama stiffened. "Or else you told them," Mama said warily.

The timer made a small ding, and Frances rose. Standing at the warm stove, she removed the baking sheet of bubbling turnovers, placing two on a plate for her mother-in-law, totally unconcerned that she was feeding Mama enough calories to keep a young hippo. She took one for herself, setting the rest by the window to cool. Dulcie wondered if that rich smell of baking would waft across the street to Joe. Frances sat down again and refilled their cups. She cut a small bite of turnover, taking it on her fork. "If the police think you saw something and withheld evidence, they're going to make trouble."

Mama tried to eat a turnover with her fingers, but it was too hot. She kept juggling it from one hand to the other. At last she broke it in two, dribbling hot peach down Dulcie's ear.

Dulcie licked her paw and swiped at her scorched ear. The hazards of investigative work. Hungrily she licked her paw, making Mama smile. Mama blew on the half turnover, broke off a small piece, and held it for Dulcie to nibble.

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