Murder Is Uncooperative (23 page)

I was so glad I'd been able to find the kitten. “Yeah, I found him. But you know what, Benjy-bear? Maui has to go to the hospital. Remember when Grandpa went to the hospital? He
was hurt, and they made him all better. That's what they're going to do for Maui too.” I hoped that was true. I didn't know how badly the kitten was hurt.

Ben looked at me quizzically. “Did you call the ambleeanse for Maui?”

I laughed. “No, Maui's going to a different hospital and Mommy's going to drive him.”

“Is he scared?” Ben asked. “Does he want me there?” He was starting to cry again.

I thought a crying Ben was the last thing the little cat needed. “He's a little scared, but the vet will take good care of him. You stay with Grandpa, and I'll bring Maui home when he's better.”

Aaron gently helped me nestle Maui in his cat carrier. We were able to slide the cardboard into the carrier without jostling the kitten too much.

“I thought it was better to keep him stable, to give his leg some support and in case he had other injuries.”

“What a good idea,” I told him gratefully. “Thank you so much for finding him and for looking after him so well.” He looked a little embarrassed by my thanks.

“Yeah, well, you're a pain, but I can't hold that against a poor little cat.”

Kevin smiled. “He's good with animals. They all seem to like him. I think he should have been a vet.”

I thanked them again and headed to the parking garage to get Dad's car. Maui's vet, a clinic that specialized in feline veterinary medicine, was already closed, but their recorded message directed me to a twenty-four-hour emergency clinic. I phoned them to say I was on my way, and they were ready when I walked into the clinic waiting area.

Maui and I were quickly taken into an examination room, and I laid the kitten, still wrapped in Aaron's dark-green towel, on the examining table. The vet was a small woman about my age, with long black hair, a perfect oval face and huge dark eyes with the longest eyelashes I had ever seen. She looked far too beautiful and exotic for the clinic, with its harsh overhead lighting and stainless steel fittings. But she was obviously skilled and perfectly at home here. Her small, brown hands were gentle as she examined the kitten, but he still snarled and hissed when she touched his leg. She gently probed the rest of his little body, then carried him away for X-rays. He was still hissing as he went.

I went back to the reception area and chatted with the receptionist as I waited.

The animal emergency clinic was quiet. I seemed to be the only person there, aside from the staff. I could hear Maui yowling from the X-ray room, and there was the occasional woof or meow in response from other animals in the back.

The vet came back to confirm that Maui's leg was broken in two places but that he didn't seem to have any other serious injuries, just some bruising. “It's quite a bad break,” she told me. “We should operate and put a pin in temporarily. He's young enough that he should heal quite well.”

She quoted me a fee that almost made me gasp out loud but I handed over my credit card without a word. The cost was more than I made in a good couple of months, but I knew I could pay that bill eventually. Maybe Dave would help, if I asked him. I didn't have a lot of money, but I knew there were plenty of people who were worse off than I was. I wondered how they coped with vet bills and other costs of having a pet.

The vet told me they would do Maui's surgery soon but would want to keep him at least overnight for observation.
“There's not much point in you waiting around here. He'll be sedated for quite a while. We can call you when we've finished the surgery to let you know how he is, if you'd like. And you can probably take him home tomorrow or the day after.”

I thanked the vet and the receptionist and steered my car back toward the co-op. Dad and Ben came out to the hall to meet me. When Dad saw that I didn't have the carrier with me, his face fell. Ben had tears in his eyes, and I could see he was going to ask where his kitten was.

“Maui's going to be fine,” I reassured them both. “He does have a broken leg, and they're doing surgery right now. But they think he'll be fine.”

“Oh, I'm so glad,” Dad said. “But I just can't figure out how he got outside.”

It was a struggle to get Ben to eat his dinner. He was upset and worried about the kitten. I was very relieved when the clinic called after a couple of hours with a report that Maui had come through his surgery and was recovering from his sedation.

Ben was glad to hear the news, but then he wanted his kitten home right away. “Maui always sleeps with me. He'll be lonely.”

I didn't quite know how to explain anesthetic to a four-year-old.

“They still need to look after Maui at the hospital,” I tried. “Remember when Grandpa had to stay overnight? But then he came home, and he was really glad to see you. And you were glad to see him.”

I tried to change the subject. “I bet Maui's sleeping right now. If you go to sleep, time will pass quickly, and Maui will be home before you know it. Let's get you a bath and then into bed.”

Ben protested a little. He was tired and upset.

“Maui won't want to see a dirty boy when he comes home,” I told him. “And when we go get Maui, you don't want him to think you're too stinky.”

Ben laughed. “Maui will think I'm stinky!” he chortled. “Maui likes stinky things. His food is stinky!”

“Well, you sure don't want Maui to think you're his stinky dinner and try to eat you up.”

Ben giggled at that and got into his bath happily enough. I watched him playing with the bright plastic boats that filled the bath, making sure he was clean. I wrapped him in one of the large fluffy white towels my mother had bought and then helped him put on his pajamas.

He cried a little as I tucked him into bed. “I miss Maui, Mommy, and I know Maui misses me,” he said.

“Maui will be sleeping and you should too,” I told him. “He'll need you to take care of him when he comes home, and you don't want to be too tired to do that.”

I noticed a scrap of paper on the floor. I picked it up as I kissed Ben good night and turned off his bedroom light.

I glanced at the paper as I left his room. It was a receipt from a women's clothing store. I had shopped there when I was still working full time but I couldn't afford to buy clothes there anymore. I thought that was where some of Gwen's clothes came from. Maybe it had fallen out of her purse or pocket when she was here at Thanksgiving.

I doubted she would need it, but I thought I should ask her. I shrugged and put the receipt down on my desk to remind me.

When the phone rang the next morning, my father answered it. I heard him laughing in a way he hadn't done since Mom died. An old friend I guessed, but I turned out to be wrong. I heard him wheeling his chair down the hall.

“That was Mariana,” he said. “She said she'd been worrying all night about whether you found Maui. You might have let her know.” He looked at me reproachfully.

“You're right, Dad, but I was a little busy taking him to the vet's.”

I thought about pointing out he might have called her but was glad I hadn't when he said, “I didn't know you'd talked to her about it.”

That made me realize I also had talked to Naomi when I'd been looking for the kitten, and I hadn't let her know I'd found him. I knew she didn't like me, but she had been helpful about the missing cat. Kevin and Aaron had helped even more, and I made a mental note to thank them for that too.

I decided to pop next door to let Naomi know that I'd found Maui.

Her worried look when she saw me made me glad I had come over.

“I just wanted to let you know I found our kitten yesterday. Thank you for checking your apartment for him.”

“Oh, I'm glad,” she said. “I haven't heard him meowing, and I was afraid you hadn't found him.”

Just how thin were the walls in this building? I usually didn't hear anything from Mariana or Naomi on either side but they were single women living alone and must be pretty quiet usually. I knew I'd have to try to remember to keep Ben and Maui from making too much noise.

I explained about the broken leg. “But the vet assured me he would be fine. He should be coming home soon.”

“I'm glad,” she said. Then she looked down at the ground. “You know, Rebecca, I guess I've been a little unfair to you.” She blushed. “There's a two-bedroom opening up pretty soon, and I think my daughter's going to get it. She told me Les had mentioned a possible vacancy before you moved in. It's not right next door but it's close enough, and she thinks it's better for her. It's smaller than your apartment, so it's cheaper.

“She was horrified when I told her I hadn't been speaking to you,” she went on. “She said 'Gawd, Mom, what if I move in and someone refuses to even talk to me because I got the apartment they wanted for someone in their family? Think how I'd feel.'”

She blushed. “I know Les was usually pretty fair about allocating apartments to people who needed them. I didn't realize your father uses a wheelchair so often. The first time I saw him he was walking.”

“He uses his walker as much as he can,” I said. “And he tries to exercise so he can stay mobile as long as possible. But his arthritis is getting worse, and he probably won't be able to walk at all some day. This co-op unit has been great for us. We couldn't have stayed in the place we were living. It's made such a difference for Dad. And my little boy loves it here.”

“Well, my granddaughter likes it here too.” She smiled. “It'll be so much easier for us if she can live here. My daughter needs a
place she can afford. And I can help look after her little girl without taking the bus across town. That's partly why I was so mad at you the first day I saw you. I'd just come back from my daughter's place, and the bus was so crowded, I had to stand all the way. I was so tired and cranky. But I know I shouldn't have taken it out on you. It was really Mariana I was mad at. She's been living in that big three-bedroom unit for years on her own and getting away with it.”

“But she says her son and grandson are coming home to live with her,” I explained. I was worried about what Cara had told me about Mariana's son. But Mariana had been a friendly face in the co-op from the start.

“Oh, yeah,” Naomi spat out. “I heard her son was living with her off and on for a while, but that was a long time ago. And now she keeps saying he's coming home. But he never does. I understand she did that before. She had someone else living with her for a while. Her sister, I think. But she moved out after a few months, and Mariana kept saying she was coming back. But she never did. Then she did emergency foster care for a while.” Naomi sighed. “That's a very worthwhile thing to do. I know there's a real need. But she only had a couple of kids for a few nights. And she kept telling the co-op she needed the rooms for foster kids. But she never had any more kids stay with her.

“I think you saw at the meeting how some people can bend the rules by getting people to sympathize with them. I wasn't here at the time, but I think something happened to Mariana's daughter a long time ago. So people feel sorry for her. But somehow or other Mariana Cole has managed to live by herself in a three-bedroom apartment, at low rent, for almost twenty years.”

I couldn't help trying to find out if she knew more. The reporter in me was a dreadful snoop some times. “I've heard a little bit about Mariana's daughter. Do people talk about her much?”

“No, not really” she said. “I only know someone said something bad happened to her so we should be nice to Mariana. I wasn't really paying attention. You can see why I was so mad Les was making such a big deal about my daughter moving in to an apartment that was too big,” she went on. “But I know it wasn't your fault.”

It wasn't exactly an apology. And Naomi seemed to have turned her fury from me to Mariana. I could easily understand how the co-op members would have sympathized with Mariana at the time of Amy's disappearance. She'd been widowed, her daughter had disappeared and perhaps died, and she had a troubled son. It would be hard to imagine a sympathetic housing co-op forcing a bereaved woman to move. It had been a long time since Amy had left but still . . .

“I don't know all the details,” I said, “but I've been doing some work on the co-op's history, and I know Mariana went through some very rough times.”

I was hoping for some sympathy but Naomi just shrugged. “Lots of people go through rough times. Most of them just try to get through the bad stuff and move on. The co-op tries to help people out as much as possible. But I think some people just take advantage.”

I remembered how Cara had managed to get the co-op to allow her to have another pet, even though it was against the rules, just by crying. And how Aaron had blustered and threatened the membership into submission. But surely this was quite a different situation.

“I know Gwen and the board do their best to be fair,” Naomi went on. “And Les too. It was so sad he died. He was a nice man.”

Naomi had turned even redder. “You know, it wasn't Les who said you slept with him to get the apartment. It was Aaron
who was telling people that, and I knew he was just saying it because he was mad about the motor home. I'm sorry about all that.”

I thanked her. “I'm glad your daughter might be moving in. And I promise you I'll try to make her feel welcome if she does. I hope we can put all this behind us and be good neighbors.” I didn't like the idea of Naomi feuding with Mariana, but I was glad she didn't seem to be gunning for me anymore. And Naomi's daughter certainly sounded like someone I might like and could be friends with.

I smiled at her. “And I'll do my best to keep the kitten quiet when he comes home. I didn't realize you could hear him.”

I went back to my apartment feeling a bit better about the co-op.

I planned to thank Aaron and Kevin next, but I was interrupted by a call from the veterinary clinic telling me that I could pick up Maui.