“Charvette, you’re wrong, I didn’t talk her out of anything.”
“Oh, yes, you did. I saw you and your stupid cat talking to her yesterday.”
Charvette was becoming more agitated now, waving the gun around.
Alyx quickly crawled to the end of the couch, grabbed the paperweight she had spied earlier and threw it, missing her by a couple of feet.
In that instant, I lunged at Charvette from the top of the bookshelf, knocking the gun out of her hand and batting it out of the way when it hit the floor. She didn’t see Pooky behind her heels, stepped back, lost her balance, and fell on her ample behind. Misty came out of the shadows and pounced on her, biting her everywhere, shredding her with her back feet while Charvette screamed, “Get them off of me!”
Alyx scrambled for the fallen weapon, picked it up, and leveled it at her until the police arrived.
Much later, Charvette told the police the whole story. She knew Rupert’s business was failing and that he had approached Dunne Development with the luxury condominium idea, investing heavily without Novie’s knowledge.
He promised Charvette he would divorce his wife and marry her when he received his share of the profit. James Dunne originally told Rupert the only way he could go forward with the project was to have at least one of the buildings next to one of his or it wouldn’t be worth it. When it looked like Alyx and Maggie weren’t going to sell, Rupert pressured his wife to sell. When he told Charvette that his wife had made her final decision after talking with Alyx, Charvette snapped. Some said that since she couldn’t get mad at him, she turned her anger against Alyx.
The Beachside Journal ran a full story on the incident, including what the writer called our heroic actions. Some people were skeptical about the role we played, arguing that we only reacted on instinct, while others joked that we knew exactly what we were doing and had planned the whole thing. Alyx could only speculate. All I can say is that if I’d acted on instinct alone, I’d still be cowering under a piece of furniture, and that goes for Misty and Pooky as well.
On the same page of the newspaper, Alyx read an article about a purse-snatching ring. The article said the Beachside police had solved a tri-city string of robberies that involved purse snatching, the purses being returned within the hour with nothing missing. The thieves, mostly teen juvenile delinquents, stole the purse, had a duplicate made of the owner’s house key and then looked for the purse owner’s home address, usually found in the wallet.
They had cracked the case when they found two men who looked like they had encountered attack cats at the last home they tried to burglarize. The officer who found them said they had had plenty of time to get away before he arrived, but apparently they had been too traumatized to make a move. Beachside Police arrested the accused ringleader––Dan Ramsey, owner of Ramsey’s Collectibles on Ocean Street––when they searched the store and found a notebook with a list of addresses that matched those of the homes burglarized.
“What greater gift than the love of a cat?”
––Charles Dickens
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO: The Dinner Party
The following day, I heard Alyx cancel the dinner at the restaurant. She opted, instead, to host a dinner party at home to celebrate Ethan’s release and all other good things that deserved a celebration.
“Murfy, you and your friends are invited too,” she said as she hung up the phone.
The night of the dinner party, Alyx paid more than the usual attention to her appearance. She couldn’t decide what to wear. She stood in front of her closet, pulling one outfit after another off the hangers, holding them up to her front, and then hanging them back up with disgust. The girls and I were getting dizzy watching her. Amazed at what she saw, Misty wondered if there was something wrong with Alyx. I said she was nervous about seeing that lawyer, David Hunter.
Misty and Pooky were all excited until Alyx decided on a generic black dress which, according to Misty was more suited for a funeral than a party. Alyx laid the dress out on the bed, undressed and stepped in the shower.
Misty immediately jumped on it, intent on destroying it, and invited Pooky and me to join her in the fun. I ran off, not wanting any part in what the girls were doing. Minutes later, I heard the water shut off and I sneaked back into the room. As I predicted, Alyx wasn’t happy when she came out of the shower and saw the felines resting comfortably on her dress.
“Oh, no!” she moaned, “Look what you’ve done to my dress. Now what am I going to wear?”
Alyx sat on the bed and dialed a number.
“Maggie, I don’t have anything to wear. I have thirty minutes to get ready for company, and I have nothing to wear. I had a dress picked out––that black sleeveless sheath I wear to all parties––laid it on the bed while I showered, and the cats got on it, bunched it all up and it’s full of cat hair. Any suggestions?”
Alyx laughed. “Yes, you’re right; the cats do have good taste, and yes, it is just a dinner and not a lifetime commitment. I’ll see you shortly.”
Maggie arrived and helped Alyx select a soft, flowered chiffon skirt, and a mauve, spaghetti strapped silk top, with a lacy, deep V-neckline. She wore no jewelry, but did wear sandals. Satisfied she didn’t look too dressed up, Alyx joined Ethan in the living room to wait for the rest of the guests.
Ethan didn’t bring a date. He told Alyx he wasn’t ready to bring anyone home to meet the family. He had finally called Lea and told her what was in his heart. As it turned out, she hadn’t lied to him after all. Her friend, Steve, had spent the night, but on the couch––he was just a friend as she had told Ethan. Ethan and Lea parted on a friendly note, recognizing they weren’t right for each other anymore.
“Thanks for the party, Mom.”
“I’m thankful we can do this. It could have just as easily gone the other way; I could be visiting you in jail or you could be visiting my grave.”
“I don’t ever want to go through that again if I can help it. The arrest alone was enough to traumatize me.”
“You haven’t told me what happened. Do you feel like talking about it?”
“I don’t mind talking about it. Two thoughts wiggled through my head when Smarts said I was under arrest. One consisted of what if they never find who did it? The other––I didn’t do anything. The latter made me mouthy, making me look even guiltier.
“My feelings were certainly not spared when we arrived at the police station. They roughed me out of the car, the handcuffs bruising the bones under my skin. Once inside, I was pressed against a cold wall with eight others. After standing in line for over three hours, I was finally called to the window, where there was the meanest woman I’ve ever had the misfortune of speaking to.
“Everything was taken out of my pockets and placed into a plastic container, sealed with its own special number, in case I ever got out to claim it. From there, they placed me in a holding cell for a good five hours before I was given any food, or allowed to make phone calls. From the conversations going on around me, it seemed everyone was eager to share their story of how and why they were there. It was like a social gathering of misfits, and I didn’t want any part of it. I patiently waited in the corner for one free phone call, thinking about whom to call. Maggie said she would have called a lawyer. I thought about calling Dad. In the end, I called no one.”
“We survived this, Ethan, and we’re the better for the experience.” She took his arm, “Come on. I’ll buy you a drink.”