No Cat Is An Island_A Cozy Cat and Witch Mystery by T. H. Hunter

Author:T. H. Hunter [Hunter, T. H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-08T00:00:00+00:00

***

Unsurprisingly perhaps, I wasn’t able to sleep that night for a long time. And even when I finally was able to doze off, awful nightmares haunted my dreams once again. They were invariably filled with lighthouses and wheelchairs, though the gaunt face of Mrs. Haughton now appeared regularly, too, telling me that nothing would be alright, or asking me whether I had set my affairs in order just in case. I flailed around, entangling myself in the bed covers, until first light broke.

A few hours later, after managing to snatch just a bit of sleep before a late breakfast, I thought that the dreams had been unnaturally real and vivid. There had been something life-like about them that stuck with me even after being awake for hours. By the time we had gone downstairs, most of the other guests had already had their breakfast. Mrs. Haughton, who seemed to have recovered well from our little visit, was doing her best to keep the place running on her own. She greeted us as if nothing had ever happened. Evidently, she couldn’t remember a thing from the previous night.

Then, Mrs. Highgarden stood up in order to address us, staring over her pointy glasses at each of us in turn to ensure our silence. It wasn’t particularly difficult to do so for once, however, since we had all been wondering what was going to happen next after the death of Anita Brown.

“My fellow members of the committee,” she began. “I’m sure that yesterday’s tragedy was a great shock to all of us. To be torn from life so early is terrible, and our sympathy goes out to her loved ones whom she leaves behind.”

She paused briefly to rearrange her glasses.

“There are also some practical matters we have to attend to, however,” Mrs. Highgarden continued. “The question is whether we should continue our meetings or not. Now, as terrible a tragedy it was, I believe we would do the deceased a great disservice by not continuing our normal lives. A second meeting that accommodated all of your busy schedules or otherwise time-consuming activities –”

Mrs Highgarden looked sternly at Patrick Urquhart over her glasses.

“– Would simply be impossible to arrange before the next year. With the pressing financial troubles of the committee, however, I therefore feel that our only choice is to push ahead.”

“But a woman has died,” said Dr. Linton, his voice strained. “We can’t just pretend nothing has happened. Think of the hotel. She was practically running the place on her own.”

“I haven’t had the chance to speak to Mr. Brown yet,” she said. “But I am sure that we could arrive at some sort of agreement…”

But at that moment, the door to the dining room opened. A tall, elderly man in a grey suit entered. He bowed his head stiffly, before stepping aside and holding open the door. Behind him, Mr. Brown wheeled into the room, his face as red and as blotchy as ever. Naturally, the death of his daughter had left its marks on him.

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