The Cat, The Witch, and the Dead Dude

Chapter 1

The cat was plotting against me. 

I could tell from the narrowing of his yellow eyes, the flattening of his ears and the telltale twitching of his tail. One pounce and it would all be over.

A single slice of bacon remained on the plate in the middle of the table.

I reached for it, while watching out of the corner of my eye as my feline foe unsheathed his claws, preparing to strike. But he let me reach the prize unscathed. 

I picked up the breakfast meat with two fingers and bit off the top third. Then, I held out the rest to him, offering, “Want this, Kodak?”

The black cat mewed a response, then gently plucked it out of my hand and pranced away with his fatty, salty prize sticking out of his mouth.

I picked up my mug and drained the last of my coffee, enjoying the peaceful view from the back deck where I’d eaten breakfast. A peace that was disrupted by the sight of my friend and neighbor, Rachel Gold, marching toward me.

“The quiet was nice while it lasted,” I murmured to Kodak.

“Good morning!” Rachel waved enthusiastically.

“Morning.”

“You haven’t RSVP’d,” she complained as she climbed the stairs of the deck and plopped down in a chair opposite me.

“For your Halloween party?”

“The fundraiser for the Friends of the Pride Falls Library,” she corrected, then grinned mischievously, “and the kickass party I’m throwing.”

Sometimes I think that Rachel serves on the boards of so many of the town’s charitable groups just so that she has plenty of excuses to throw a party.

“I’m really not in a party mood with all—” I began to protest.

“It’s for a good cause, Kiki.”

“I understand that. I appreciate what you’re doing to encourage literacy, but I’m not in a financial position to offer support this year,” I told her firmly. “You know that.”

I’m employed by the Pride Falls Sheriff’s Department as a part-time crime scene photographer and am actively growing my pet portrait business, but between paying for the college textbooks of my daughter, Paige, and the exorbitant bills I was racking up from the  divorce attorney to help me disentangle myself from my husband, Karl, who is sitting in jail, I am perpetually short on funds.

“But I already bought you a ticket,” she pouted.

“You bought me a ticket?”

“I bought a table’s worth,” she explained. “You, me, Grace and her date, Moon, Nico, my date, your date.”

“I don’t have a date,” I told her sharply. It was a sore subject.

“You could,” she wheedled.

“I don’t have a costume.”

“I’ll take care of that, too,” she promised.

“I’m not—” I tried to protest. 

“I need your support with this, Kiki,” she told me solemnly. “Please?”

I sighed heavily. After everything she’d done to help me after Karl’s disappearance and subsequent arrest, I couldn’t turn down her request. “Fine.”

She grinned. “It’s going to be a great party, you’ll see!” She jumped up from her chair and hurried off toward her house.

I looked over at Kodak, who was licking a paw. “I just made a mistake, didn’t I?”

His meow made me think he agreed with the assessment.

“I seem to make a lot of those,” I muttered, shaking my head. 

Before I could sink into the depths of self-pity, my cell phone buzzed. I scanned the text and announced to the cat, “Work. Apparently, my camera is needed at the library, of all places.”

I quickly loaded my breakfast dishes into the dishwasher, ran a brush through my hair, swiped on some lip gloss, grabbed my camera and dashed for the door.

As I drove through town, weaving my way past a plethora of gauzy spider webs and monster decorations, I was struck by how everyone was going all out this Halloween. It was as though there was a concerted effort to celebrate the fantasy macabre to cover up the very real problems Pride Falls was facing. First, Karl had embezzled funds from the town coffers, then, Adele Robertson had ruined the annual fair by poisoning the pie eating contest and, recently, the head of the Chamber of Commerce, Dick Cusack, had been arrested on a myriad of charges related to organized crime and attempted murder. 

The residents of Pride Falls were reeling, and it was starting to look like they were trying to exorcise their demons with pumpkins and witches.

The library had a handwritten “Closed for Emergency Repairs” sign hanging on the front door, which was locked. I knocked three times and fiddled nervously with my camera strap as I waited to be let in. I was still new to the crime scene photography thing and was always worried I’d miss an important clue.

I gasped when the door swung open, surprised by who I stood face-to-face with. “Jacob!”

Deputy Jacob Siffen nodded at me. “Kiki.”

“I didn’t know you were back.”

“My first shift.” He ushered me inside and relocked the door. “Guess Rockland wanted to start me off on something easy. It’s back this way.”

As I followed him through the library, I noted he seemed to be unsteady on his feet. I wondered if he’d returned to work too soon after being shot by his uncle and left to die in the woods near where the body of his murdered mother had been disposed of decades earlier. The doctors had said it was a miracle Jacob survived at all. 

The townspeople thought it was a miracle that I’d managed to find him in time to save him. The same people who’d treated me like a leper after my husband’s embezzling had come to light, now treated me like I was some kind of savior. It was disconcerting and made me value those who’d stuck with me during my darkest days.

Jacob led me to a back corner of the second floor of the library and I could immediately see why I’d been called in. Display cases had been smashed, pages torn from books, and old black-and-white photographs were scattered on the floor.

“I’m supposed to let you take all your pics before I start pawing through this mess,” the deputy revealed. “Let me know when you’re done.”

I watched him wobble off, then double-checked my batteries were strong and my memory card was empty before I got to work. I worked slowly and meticulously to document the carnage.

I was so focused on my work that I didn’t notice the man come up behind me until he cleared his throat.

Letting out a startled yelp, I whirled to face him.

“Sorry to have startled you,” a slight man with thick glasses apologized with an easy smile. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Reed Tickner.”

“Kiki Long.” I felt compelled to explain what I was doing there. “I’m the crime scene photographer for the Sheriff’s Department.”

“And I’m the new head librarian. I’ve only been here a couple of weeks.”

I nodded. “I’ve heard all about you, Mr. Tickner.”

Something flickered in his eyes, and I realized as the wife of the town embezzler, he must have heard all sorts of things about me. He had the good grace to only reply with, “Good things, I hope.”

“My friend Rachel Gold says you’re the cat’s pajamas, Mr. Tickner.”  Our friend Moon had made fun of Rachel for using the phrase to describe him, which is why it had stuck in my head. Rachel had also said that he thought his glasses gave him a very Clark Kent vibe and I found myself agreeing with her. Reed Tickner was a very handsome and charming man.

He beamed with delight. “Please, call me Reed.”

“The perfect name for a librarian,” I said. 

“So I’ve heard.” He smiled patiently; no doubt having heard the observation many times before. His mouth drooped as he surveyed the scene I’d been cataloguing. “Someone certainly didn’t like the Pride Falls Founders display. Any idea who could have done this?”

“I’m just the photographer,” I told him quickly. “If you have any questions, you should take them up with Deputy Siffen. He’s the one who is in charge of the investigation.”

He nodded.

“Was there anything significant about this display?”

He shrugged. “It was like most history lessons, a form of socially respectable propaganda developed by the winning side.”

“An interesting way to describe it,” I murmured, hoping he’d elaborate.

It ended up being a be careful what you wish for hope.

“Forgive me if this sounds indelicate, Mrs. Long, but your husband isn’t the first person to strip the coffers of Pride Falls bare.”

I tensed, wondering how the conversation had veered so sharply into Karl’s crimes. “No?”

He shook his head. “From what I understand, the town founder, Jonah Pride, was rumored to have stolen most of the wealth of the citizens. They say it’s still hidden in the area.” 

He gave me a searching look and I got the impression he thought I might know where Karl had hidden the funds.

“But time has been kind to Jonah Pride,” he concluded with a charming smile. “Now, he’s celebrated as a town founder, instead of a thief. Hence my opinion that history is not fact, it’s propaganda.”

“A unique opinion,” I murmured, wondering if it would change Rachel’s opinion of him.

Reed nodded. “Well, I’ve got board members to call about this. I hope we meet again under better circumstances.” He turned to leave and then spun back. “I don’t suppose you’ll be attending the Halloween shindig?”

“Rachel roped me into it,” I admitted.

“Excellent! I look forward to seeing you there!” He hurried off.

I turned to return to my work. 

“Thanks for that,” Jacob Siffen murmured.

Glancing over, I saw him standing nearby. “For what?”

“For telling him I’m in charge of the investigation.”

I shrugged and took another photograph. “You are.”

“Yeah, but you were nice about it,” he muttered. “Maybe nicer than I deserve.”

I stopped what I was doing and turned to look him in the eye. “We’ve had our rough moments,” I told the young deputy that I’d babysat for when I first moved to Pride Falls. “And you saved my life and I saved yours. Maybe we can just be respectful co-workers now?”

He nodded. “I’d like that.”

I grinned at him. “Me too. Now, let me finish before Sheriff Rockland complains I’ve taken too long.”

Chuckling, he walked off.

I let out a sigh of relief. Jacob and I were on the same side. I had gainful employment. Karl was in jail where he belonged. The townspeople were no longer ready to chase me with pitchforks. Things were finally looking up.

That wouldn’t last for long.