Part 3 (1/2)
The tabby lapped up the last fragment of sardine and looked up at Maura with crystal-green eyes, his gaze so intent that he seemed to be reading her mind, recognizing a kindred spirit. This is how crazy cat ladies are created, she thought. They look into an animal's eyes and think they see a soul looking back. And what did this cat see when he looked at Maura? The human with the can opener.
”If only you could talk,” she said. ”If only you could tell us what you saw.”
But this tabby was keeping his secrets. He allowed her to give him a few more strokes, then he sauntered away into a corner, where he proceeded to wash himself. So much for feline affection. It was Feed me, now leave me alone. Maybe he truly was the perfect pet for her, both of them loners, unsuited for long-term companions.h.i.+p.
Since he was ignoring her, she ignored him and attended to her own dinner. She slid a leftover ca.s.serole of eggplant Parmesan into the oven, poured a gla.s.s of Pinot Noir, and sat down at her laptop to upload the photos from the Gott crime scene. On screen she saw once again the gutted body, the face stripped to bone, the blowfly larvae gorged on flesh, and she remembered all too vividly the smells of that house, the hum of the flies. It would not be a pleasant autopsy tomorrow. Slowly she clicked through the images, searching for details that she might have overlooked while at the scene, where the presence of cops and criminalists was a noisy distraction. She saw nothing that was inconsistent with her postmortem interval estimate of four to five days. The extensive injuries to the face, neck, and upper limbs could be attributed to scavenger damage. And that means you, she thought, glancing at the tabby, who was serenely licking his paws. What was his name? She had no idea, but she couldn't just keep calling him Cat.
The next photo was of the mound of viscera inside the trash can, a congealed ma.s.s that she would need to soak and peel apart before she could adequately examine the individual organs. It would be the most repellent part of the autopsy, because it was in the viscera where putrefaction started, where bacteria thrived and multiplied. She clicked through the next few images, then stopped, focusing on yet another view of the viscera in the trash can. The lighting was different in this image because the flash had not gone off, and in the slanting light, new curves and fissures were revealed on the surface.
The doorbell rang.
She wasn't expecting visitors. Certainly she didn't expect to find Jane Rizzoli standing on her front porch.
”Thought you might need this,” said Jane, holding out a shopping bag.
”Need what?”
”Kitty litter, and a box of Friskies. Frost feels guilty that you're the one who got stuck with the cat, so I told him I'd drop this off. Has he torn up your furniture yet?”
”Demolished a can of sardines, that's about it. Come in, you can see for yourself how he's doing.”
”Probably a lot better than the other one.”
”Gott's white cat? What did you do with it?”
”No one can catch it. It's still hiding somewhere in that house.”
”I hope you gave it some fresh food and water.”
”Frost has taken charge, of course. Claims he can't stand cats, but you should've seen him down on his hands and knees, begging kitty, pretty please! to come out from under the bed. He'll go back tomorrow and change the litter box.”
”I think he could really use a pet. He's got to be pretty lonely these days.”
”Is that why you took one home?”
”Of course not. I took him home because ...” Maura sighed. ”I have no idea why. Because he wouldn't leave me alone.”
”Yeah, he knows a patsy when he sees one,” Jane said with a laugh as she followed Maura to the kitchen. ”There's the lady who'll feed me cream and pate.”
In the kitchen Maura stared in dismay at the tabby, who was on top of the kitchen table, his front paws planted on her laptop keyboard. ”Shoo,” she snapped. ”Get off!”
The cat yawned and rolled onto his side.
Maura scooped him up and dropped him onto the floor. ”And stay off.”
”You know, he can't really hurt your computer,” said Jane.
”It's not the computer, it's the table. I eat at that table.” Maura grabbed a sponge, squirted it with spray cleaner, and began wiping the tabletop.
”I think you might have missed a microbe there.”
”Not funny. Think of where that cat's been. What his feet have been walking through in the past four days. Would you want to eat at that table?”
”He's probably cleaner than my three-year-old.”
”No disagreement there. Children are like fomites.”
”What?”
”Spreading infections everywhere they go.” Maura gave the table one last vigorous swipe and threw the sponge in the trash can.
”I'll remember that when I get home. Come to Mommy, my sweet little fomite.” Jane opened the bag of kitty litter and poured it into the plastic litter box she'd also brought. ”Where do you want to put this?”
”I was hoping I could just let him out and he'd do his business in the yard.”
”Let him out and he might not come back.” Jane clapped litter dust from her hands and straightened. ”Or maybe that's a good thing?”
”I don't know what I was thinking, bringing him home. Just because he attached himself to me. It's not as if I wanted a cat.”
”You just said Frost needed a pet. Why not you?”
”Frost just got divorced. He's not used to being alone.”
”And you are.”
”I have been for years, and I don't think that's going to change anytime soon.” Maura looked around at the spotless countertops, the scrubbed sink. ”Unless some miracle man suddenly appears.”
”Hey, that's what you should call him,” said Jane, pointing to the cat. ”Miracle Man.”
”That is not going to be his name.” The kitchen timer beeped, and Maura opened the oven to check on the ca.s.serole.
”Smells good.”
”It's eggplant Parmesan. I couldn't stomach the thought of eating meat tonight. Are you hungry? There's enough here for two of us.”
”I'm going to my mom's for dinner. Gabriel's still in DC, and Mom can't stand the thought of me and Regina by ourselves.” Jane paused. ”Maybe you want to join us, just for the company?”
”It's nice of you to ask, but my dinner's already heated up.”
”Not necessarily tonight, but in general. Anytime you need a family to hang out with.”
Maura gave her a long look. ”Are you adopting me?”
Jane pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table. ”Look, I feel we still need to clear the air between us. We haven't talked much since the Teddy Clock case, and I know the last few months have been tough on you. I should have asked you to dinner a long time ago.”
”I should have invited you, too. We've both been busy, that's all.”
”You know, it really worried me, Maura, when you said you were thinking about leaving Boston.”
”Why would it worry you?”