Cats on the Prowl (A Cat Detective cozy mystery series Book 1) Read online

  “Not just yet,” Nat mumbled. “We don’t want to miss them questioning the employee and the owner’s widow. We’ll stick around for that. We might pick up some details we need when we go out to view the scene of the crime.”

  Willow peeped with excitement. “The scene of the crime! I’m getting to be a real police cat!”

  “Calm down,” Nat hissed. “You don’t want to blow our cover. The first job of the police cat is to keep quiet and listen. Bide your time and use your head. We don’t want to run off all over the place when the case just got started. Like Naya said, we have a long way to go yet.”

  Three hours later, Carl wiped the sweat off his forehead and took a brown paper bag out of his desk drawer. “Lunch time. Then we’ll get to questioning the suspects.”

  He put his meaty paw into his bag and pulled out a limp sandwich wrapped in plastic wrap. He stuffed the sandwich into his mouth and swallowed it almost in one bite. He crumpled up the bag and tossed it into his waste paper basket. Then he turned back to his work.

  Naya took a stacking lunch box of shining stainless steel from the shoulder bag under her desk and set it out in front of her. She unclipped it and set the stacking pieces in a tasteful arrangement on top of her desk calendar. She opened one section after another and took out a tiny bamboo fork.

  She started eating noodles out of one section while she gazed out the window in deep thought. Carl muttered over his papers at the desk across from her. After she finished her noodles, she moved on to another section of her lunch box and started eating a salad. She took out a handful of carrot sticks.

  Carl ignored the crunching as long as he could. Then he dropped his papers with an exasperated gasp. “I don’t know how you can live on that rabbit food. You’ll fade away to nothing eating that stuff.”

  Naya smiled across the desk at her partner. “We have the same conversation every lunchtime, Carl. I’m eating a lot more over here than you are. Don’t you get hungry later in the day on just a sandwich?”

  Carl shrugged. “Sure, but I’m trying to lose weight. You look like you could use a few pounds.”

  Naya chuckled. “No one ever lost weight by cutting macronutrients. You lose weight by boosting your metabolism, and you can only do that by increasing your muscle mass. If you want to lose weight, you actually have to eat more, not less.”

  Carl shook his finger at her. “Don’t try to confuse me with all that technical talk. I’ve eaten the same sandwich for twenty years, and....”

  Naya put her lunchbox back together and wiped her mouth on a cotton handkerchief from her pocket. “You don’t have to tell me. You’ve eaten the same sandwich for twenty years and you’re not about to change now.”

  “Why should I change?” Carl shot back. “It works for me.”

  “It doesn’t really work for you if you’re trying to lose weight, does it?” Naya pointed out. “Besides, if you ate more, you wouldn’t be such an intolerable ogre about three o’clock in the afternoon.”

  Carl stiffened. “Who said I’m an intolerable ogre at three o’clock in the afternoon?”

  “I did,” Naya replied. “I’m your partner, and I’ve seen you crash at the same time every day after eating the same sandwich for lunch. I’m here to tell you it doesn’t work for you, for me or for anyone else. I don’t know how your wife Sandra puts up with you.”

  Carl looked away. “It works fine for her because I hit the drive-through on the way home.”

  Naya nodded. “That explains why you’re not losing weight.”

  Carl jerked his head toward the door. “Josephine Avino is here.”

  Chapter 3

  Naya put her lunchbox away and the two detectives stood up. “I’ll take her down to the interrogation room. You bring Jason when he gets here.”

  Willow nudged Nat with her nose. “Now what are we going to do? I thought we were going to listen in on the questioning.”

  “Stay calm,” Nat told her, “and follow my lead.”

  He stood up and stretched his legs. He yawned and turned a complete circle in their nest before he stepped out into the station room. He looked around and set to work to clean his whiskers.

  Willow watched with a pattering heart. Naya shook hands with a lady in a faux fur coat and a bejeweled handbag hanging from her elbow. Stiletto heels glittered on her feet, and sheer panty hose covered her legs under her crisp polyester skirt. Naya ushered her toward the stairs and disappeared.

  Willow would have run after them if Nat hadn’t stood up at that moment and trotted out of the room. He turned the corner after Naya and Mrs Avino. Willow waited another moment just to make sure no one was watching. Then she scampered through the door, too.

  Naya opened a blank brown door in a nondescript hallway and waved Josephine Avino inside. Nat slipped into the room between her legs. Neither woman noticed him at all. Naya flipped on the light and turned to close the door. At that moment, Willow skidded to a stop and bumped her nose on the door as it closed in her face. She mewed up at Naya.

  Naya yanked the door open and looked down at the fluffy Persian cat. “Do you want to come in, sweetie?” She held the door open, and Willow pranced past.

  Jo Avino made a face. “What do you keep those cats around for?”

  Naya sat down across from her. “They make people much more comfortable when it comes to talking to the police about a situation like this. See? She’s jumping up into your lap. She understands you’ve suffered a terrible lose with your husband dying in that fire this morning. She wants to comfort you.”

  Josephine pushed Willow off her lap. “I don’t want her comfort. Look. She’s gotten hair all over my clothes. Get her out of here.”

  Naya waved her hand. “You don’t have to have her on your lap if you don’t want to. But these cats are just part of the scenery. They’ve been here longer than I have—at least Nat has. He’s the tabby. Did you see him upstairs in the station room?”

  Josephine sniffed. “I can’t say I did.”

  Naya arranged her papers on the table in front of her. “Nat has been here longer than anybody, even my partner Carl, who has been on this force the longest—of the humans, I mean.” She laughed at her own joke.

  Josephine scowled. “Can we get this over with? I have more important things to do.”

  “What could be more important that helping the police find your husband’s killer?” Naya asked. “You should be the most interested in finding out who killed him.”

  Josephine shrugged. “You cops are all the same. You like to see crime and evil-doing around every corner. You’re going to find out that fire was an accident.”

  “I don’t think so,” Naya countered. “We found the remains of cloth soaked in kerosene near the back oven. Someone set that fire deliberately to kill your husband.”

  Josephine cocked her head to one side. “Near the back oven, you say? You might as well know my husband Roy was the most irresponsible businessman you ever met when it comes to workplace safety. He was cited more than once by the health commission for unsafe gas lines leading to his ovens, and he stored chemicals inside the bakery that never should have been there. One spark could have ignited leaking gas and set off a chain reaction with the chemicals.”

  Naya looked up from her papers. “Now that is really helpful information, Josephine. I really appreciate you telling me that. We need that kind of information in this investigation.”

  “Now do you see what I mean?” Josephine replied. “No one killed him. He killed himself with his own negligence.”

  Naya went back to sorting her papers. “I understand. But we would still have to investigate. The arson investigator has to investigate any fire without a known cause. If we determine that Roy’s death was not a homicide and the arson investigator determines that the fire wasn’t arson, then we’ll look at declaring his death accidental.”

  Josephine smacked her lips. “Don’t you people realize the position this puts me in? I have to plan Roy’s funeral, settle all his bank ac
counts, and lodge his death certificate with the county in order to get his will released. I can’t do any of that until you cops declare the cause of death. Every hour of every day that passes costs me money.”

  “I understand this is hard on you,” Naya replied. “You’ve suffered a terrible loss, and you want to put it behind you as quickly as possible. But the fire only happened this morning. You can’t expect us to wrap up our investigation in one day.”

  “But it was an accident,” Josephine insisted. “Can’t you see that?”

  Naya shook her head. “Even if we knew for certain that the fire was an accident, or the result of negligence on Roy’s part, we would still have to follow our procedures and question everyone who knew anything about it.”

  Josephine crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine. Go ahead. What do you want to ask me?”

  Naya smiled. “You weren’t anywhere near the bakery this morning, were you?”

  Josephine sat up so fast she almost shot out of her chair. “What are you trying to say? You’re not accusing me of killing Roy, are you?”

  “I never said anything of the kind,” Naya replied. “I just asked a simple question. Where were you this morning?”

  Josephine kept her eyes averted, but there wasn’t anything to look at in that room except the investigating officer across the table. “I was at home. I never went near the bakery.”

  Naya shuffled a few documents back and forth. “Do you know Jason Dempsey?”

  “Of course, I know him,” Jo shot back. “He’s shift leader at the bakery.”

  “You mean, he was shift leader at the bakery,” Naya corrected her. “He isn’t anymore.”

  “What’s that got to do with the price of eggs?” Josephine snapped.

  “Jason is out of a job,” Naya pointed out. “So is everyone else at the bakery, but Jason was there when the fire started.”

  “Are you looking at him as your prime suspect?” Josephine asked.

  Naya shrugged. “Maybe. A lot of people are suspects in Roy’s death, but Jason is the one with the most opportunity to start the fire.”

  “Then why isn’t he locked up?” Josephine asked.

  Naya set her papers aside and sighed. “It’s like this. We have the same problem with Jason that we have with you. You’re Roy’s wife, so you could have all kinds of motives to get rid of him that we don’t know about?”

  “Like what?” Jo demanded. “What motive could I possibly have to kill my husband?”

  “I don’t know,” Naya replied. “Maybe you couldn’t wait to get your hands on the money in those bank accounts you want released. Like I said, you could have lots of motives.”

  “I didn’t kill him,” She maintained.

  Naya got up and started pacing around the room. Josephine followed her with her eyes. “You could have a motive, but you had no opportunity. With Jason, we have the opposite problem. He had opportunity, but he has no motive—none that we know of, anyway.”

  “Well, there you go,” Josephine remarked. “He had opportunity. You just have to figure out what his motive was, and you’ve got your killer.”

  “I’m afraid it’s not as simple as that,” Naya replied.

  “What could be simpler?” Josephine asked.

  “We have to prove that he killed Roy,” Naya explained. “For that, we need evidence. We need evidence to substantiate his motive, and we need evidence to prove the method he used to start the fire without Roy’s knowledge. It must have been hard for him to light it with Roy standing right there in the bakery with him.”

  Josephine turned away. “Not so hard.”

  Naya picked up a piece of paper. “The bakery schedule says they worked side by side on weekday mornings before the other employees came in. Roy would have met him at the door when he clocked in, and he would have had Jason in sight through his whole shift. How do you say Jason could go off into a corner and sabotage a gas line or tamper with chemicals?”

  “I don’t say anything,” Josephine muttered.

  “Did you have any dealings with Jason outside of the bakery?” Naya asked.

  “I never had any dealings with him in the bakery,” Josephine shot back. “I never had any dealings with him one way or the other. He was my husband’s employee. I never said a word to him the entire time he worked for my husband.”

  Naya nodded. “Okay. I think we can wrap it up for today. We’ll be in touch again when we get a little further along in our investigation.”

  “How long will that take?” Josephine asked.

  Naya stood up and waved toward the door. “I really don’t know. These cases can take a while to figure out. We’ll let you know if we find out anything.”

  Josephine huffed and walked away. Carl met Naya at the door and they watched Josephine disappear up the stairs.

  “Is Jason here?” Naya asked.

  “He’s waiting upstairs,” Carl replied. “How’s the grieving widow?”

  “She wants us to hurry up our investigation,” Naya told him, “and she doesn’t believe it was murder. She says Roy neglected his safety obligations and the bakery burned down on its own.”

  “If it did,” Carl shot back, “I’ll eat my hat.”

  Naya snorted. “I’d like to see you try.”

  “What did she say about Jason?” Carl asked.

  “She says she doesn’t know him,” Naya replied. “She says she never had anything to do with him.”

  “She probably didn’t,” Carl observed. “He worked for Roy, not her.”

  Naya gazed toward the empty stairs. “I don’t know. Her husband hasn’t even been dead twenty-four hours, and she’s awfully anxious to get her hands on his bank accounts. She doesn’t even want to wait until we determine the cause of death before she gets the death certificate filed and the will released.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Carl asked.

  “Doesn’t that make you suspicious?” Naya asked. “She and Jason could have something going on. They could have conspired to kill Roy to get his money.”

  Carl shrugged. “When my mother died two years ago, my father couldn’t get all that paperwork sorted out fast enough. He wanted to get it done and put it behind him. Some people just deal with their grief that way.

  Chapter 4

  Carl pulled out Jason Dempsey’s chair for him. Then he and Naya sat down opposite him. Willow crouched under the table. She didn’t try to jump up into Jason’s lap. This questioning of suspects was serious business, and she had to pay attention. She couldn’t see Nat anywhere. He must be hiding somewhere in the shadows.

  Carl pulled down the cuffs of his jacket sleeves. “So, Jason, we’ll just go over a couple of the details we talked about this morning at the scene. Then you’ll be free to go.”

  Jason shifted in his chair and looked around. “I’m free to go now. You can’t intimidate me. If I’m not under arrest, I can walk out of here at any time.”

  Naya looked up. “That’s right, Jason. No one ever said otherwise. We’re just here to ask a few questions about the fire.”

  “You can’t fool me,” Jason shot back. “I know the drill. I wouldn’t be here right now if you didn’t suspect me of starting the fire.”

  Carl cocked his head to one side. “If you know the drill, you must have a criminal record.”

  “Of course I have a criminal record,” Jason snapped. “That was before I went to Boot Camp. Don’t tell me you didn’t look up my wrap sheet before you brought me in here. You wouldn’t be much of a cop if you didn’t.”

  Naya slid a manila folder across the table to Carl. Carl huffed and bent over it, but he didn’t read it.

  “Anyway, Jason,” Naya went on, “let’s go back to this morning when you were scheduled to work at the bakery.”

  “I already told you,” Jason exclaimed. “I was nowhere near that bakery when it burned down. You have to believe me.”

  Naya held up the schedule. “You don’t have to lie about it, Jason. You were scheduled to work this morn
ing. Your girlfriend saw you leave home, and we have a witness who saw you park in the employee parking lot behind the bakery. We found the remains of the time clock with your imprint still on the tape. You clocked in right before the fire started.”

  “I clocked in,” Jason told her, “but I wasn’t in the bakery. I can prove it.”

  “How could you be anywhere else?” Carl asked. “If you clocked in, you were there.”

  “I clocked in,” Jason explained, “but then I left. I was three blocks down the street when the building went up.”

  “What were you doing there?” Naya asked. “You were on the clock.”

  Jason fidgeted. “I’m telling you this in the strictest confidence, you understand. If I thought for a minute this information would get out, I would take it to my grave.”

  Carl stiffened. “If you have an alibi for the time of Roy Avino’s death, you better tell us now. You wouldn’t want us to think you had anything to do with it.”

  “You already think I had something to do with it,” Jason returned. “I wouldn’t be here now if you didn’t think so. You think I started that fire, and that makes me a murderer.”

  “That’s all the more reason to tell us your alibi,” Naya pointed out. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell us in the first place, unless you have something to hide.”

  “When I tell you the alibi,” Jason replied, “you’ll understand why I have something to hide. I was down the street behind the Nickel Alley Cafe with Josephine.”

  A tense silence fell over the room.

  Jason nodded in answer to the detective’s astonished stares. “Now do you understand? She made me swear on my mother’s grave I wouldn’t tell anyone, and I wouldn’t if I wasn’t facing a murder wrap for killing Roy.”

  Carl and Naya exchanged glances. “I just interviewed Josephine Avino in this same room,” Naya told him. “She says she doesn’t know you and never had anything to do with you.”

  “That’s what she told everyone,” Jason replied. “She never wanted anyone to find out about us.”

  Naya nodded. “I guess she didn’t want Roy to find out.”