Lawyer for the Cat (13 page)

“We understand the terms of the trust, Ms. Baynard. I hope you won't think me presumptuous, but I can save you a lot of trouble. Katherine and I—”

“Hugh,” she says, “You promised.…”

“I'm just trying to expedite things,” he says.

“Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself,” I say, addressing my question to Katherine.

“Hugh and I have been married for nineteen years,” she begins.

“Quite happily,” he says.

“We have no children.”

“How did you come to know Mrs. Mackay?” I ask Katherine.

“She and I developed a friendship when she came to the library to do research,” she says. “That was about a year after I started working there, in the mid-nineties. She would come into town once or twice a week and I'd help her with her projects.”

“What kind of projects?”

“She wrote articles for local and regional magazines, mostly about the history of Edisto … the plantations, the families. Before her heart attack she was planning to work on the history of the African-American churches out there. Lila was so energetic … it's a shame she never got her PhD. I admired her so much—” She stops, swallows. “I'm sorry. I miss her so—”

“You forgot to mention,” her husband interrupts again, “that after she stopped driving to town, you would visit her regularly. You were almost like a daughter to her.”

“Hugh exaggerates, but we were close,” says Katherine. “Lila always encouraged me in my own work. And she was so … so
wise.
After Ricky—our son—died—”

“We don't need to go into that,” Hugh says.

“After our son died—this was about five years ago—I had a very difficult time. Lila was like a mother to me. She encouraged me to apply for the head librarian job. I didn't get it, but just knowing she had such faith in me helped a great deal.”

“Tell me about your relationship with Beatrice,” I say.

“Katherine's always been a cat lover,” Hugh says.

She smiles. “I've adopted some over the years, but we lost the last one about a month ago. Onyx. We called her Nix for short. Nix and Beatrice were sisters.”

“Really?”

“Yes. About seven ago I went to the shelter, looking for a cat, and there were these two darling black kittens, almost identical. I brought them both home but Hugh said I could keep only one, so I asked Lila, who'd just lost her cat.… It was hard to tell Onyx and Beatrice apart! Lila adored Beatrice. The bond between them was truly remarkable. Did you know that she used to read stories to—”

“She doesn't need to hear all this, Katherine,” Hugh says.

I'd like to slap him. “Actually, the pet trust specifies that the chosen caretaker should provide, to the extent possible, the same emotional environment Mrs. Mackay would have provided for Beatrice, so the more I know about Mrs. Mackay, the easier my task will be.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn't ever be able to
replace
Lila,” says Katherine, “but I think I understand why her relationship with Beatrice was so special, because I feel the same way about cats. I don't consider them to be inferior creatures—just different from us. As a matter of fact, before Lila got so sick, we were working on a grant application … to bring Peter Singer to the library for a symposium.”

“The animal rights expert?”

“Some people consider him rather extreme in his views, but Lila and I … Anyway, she treated Beatrice with the utmost respect, as a fellow creature. She was affectionate, but she was also very firm when she needed to be. She taught Beatrice to respect her in return. They really had a wonderful relationship. I feel so sorry for the cat now, without her.”

“So,” I continue, “I take it that you'd be willing to move out to the island, because as you know, the trust specifies—”

“Of course,” says her husband. “We'd be delighted to do that.”

“But wouldn't it be a long commute for you?” I ask Katherine.

“Well, if you were to choose me … I mean
us,
” she says, “I would probably retire from the library. Hugh has his own business, which he can really operate from anywhere.”

“What do you do?” I ask him.

“I have a high-end antiques business, mostly English furniture, antique garden statuary. I serve a very select group of customers.”

“So you'd be using the house as a store?”

“Oh, no. I don't need a physical location,” he says. “I take two or three buying trips each year, ship the items directly to the customers. But I do think I could help with the restoration of the Mackay property and furnishings.”

Katherine shrugs. “Lila had a hard time keeping things up, especially in her later years. It wasn't the money, she just wasn't interested in—how should I say it?—material things.”

“Oak Bluff could be a real showplace,” Hugh says.

“But of course that has nothing to do with Beatrice,” says Katherine.

“You understand,” I explain, “that whomever I choose will only live in the house as long as the cat's alive?”

“Of course,” Hugh says.

“And the income from the investments can be used only for the caretaker's salary—fifty thousand dollars—and for Beatrice's veterinary expenses, and of course for the maintenance of the house and property.”

“Yes,” Hugh says. “Don't worry, Katherine and I wouldn't be doing this for the money.”

“But I need to be honest,” Katherine says. “My job at the library is officially only part-time. I end up working almost full-time to get the job done. I'd love to have the time for my own work.”

“Katherine is writing a historical novel,” Hugh explains.

“Yes,” she continues, “Lila always said a woman needed a room of her own, and money of her own.”

“Do you know Gail Sims, the young woman who's been doing the maintenance and the groundskeeping?” I ask.

“I met her a couple of times, when she came out to cut the grass,” she says. “She's nice enough, but—”

“She isn't the kind of person who belongs in that house,” says Hugh.

“She's a sweet girl,” says Katherine, “but … I don't know how to say this nicely … she's comes from a rather modest background. Of course, I won't deny that she loves Beatrice, and vice versa.”

“A cat will love anybody who feeds it,” says Hugh.

Katherine leans forward. “But you must understand that Beatrice is special. She's highly intelligent, sensitive and intuitive. She'll know if she's with the wrong person. I've often wondered if she's not a mind-reader!”

“My wife has a big imagination,” says Hugh.

“What I mean is, I think she knew that Lila was her soul mate, not just her caregiver.”

“Did Mrs. Mackay have other friends?” I ask.

“She didn't get into Charleston much in the last years,” says Katherine. “She lived so far out of town, not many of her Charleston friends kept up with her. It was sad.”

“What about someone named Simon?”

“That doesn't ring a bell,” she says. “But I didn't know many of her set. They were so much older.”

Just before they leave, Katherine asks me, “Where's Beatrice now?”

“She's living with me. But I'm hoping to finish my investigation soon.”

“Let us know if you have any other questions,” says Hugh.

“One more—can you think of any reason Mrs. Mackay didn't include
your
name along with your wife's?”

Katherine shoots a look at him, hesitates before she says: “We were separated briefly, about the time she set up the trust.”

*   *   *

Ellen and I meet at our usual lunch spot, Poogan's Porch. She looks terrible. She's been my friend since law school, so I know that anxious smile. I remember it from those last couple of days before the bar exam, and I've seen it in the courtroom, when things aren't going well for her in trial.

“I've already ordered for you,” she says. “Salmon spinach salad, without the salmon, right?”

“You in a hurry?”

“I have a staff meeting at one thirty.”

“Everything okay?”

“Not exactly.”
Oh God,
I think,
please tell me Ellen and Hank aren't splitting up.
The term “perfect couple” may be an oxymoron, but they're as close to perfect as any couple I know. “I had a horrendous weekend. I—just—” She can't catch her breath.

I reach across the table, touch the top of her hand. “Whatever it is, we'll deal with it.” And then the other horrible possibilities race through my brain. Her mother died young of metastatic breast cancer.

She inhales as if it's going to be her last breath. “Mandy's pregnant.”

Mandy is her daughter, her only child, a senior in high school, an A student and soccer star. “How far along?”

“A couple of months. You know how I've always told her to come to me when she had a problem? Well, she listened about the ‘problem' part, but she must not have been paying attention to my speech about birth control.”

“Who's the father?”

“Peter Matthews. You probably know his parents from Grace Church—Helen and John. I could kill them.”

“Are they being obnoxious about it?”

“No, I mean Mandy and Peter. I lost it with Mandy.”

“Well, I guess you're entitled,” I say.

“I feel like my life's coming apart.”

“If there's anyone I know who can handle a crisis, it's you.”

“Mandy wants to keep it,” says Ellen.

I absorb this while the waiter brings our meals and refills our iced tea, hovering too long, asking if we have everything we need, if we're enjoying this pleasant weather, if we're tourists. He's new here, just trying to do a good job, but the absence of our usual waitress seems like one more sign that things are coming apart. “She may change her mind.”

“You know how strong-minded she is. When she decides she wants something, she won't let go. I told her,
Honey, this is different. This isn't the state soccer championship or the SAT—this is a baby. You'd be throwing your whole life away.
She got early admission to Duke, and on full scholarship. What's she going to do, go up to Durham with a
baby
? She says if she has to, she'll postpone college for a couple of years, get a job.”

“Well, I know that's not what you want for her, but it's not impossible.” I'm doing my best to sound steady, but I'm thinking,
This is a nightmare.

“Would you talk to her? She respects you.”

“Of course I will.”

“I'm at the end of my rope.”

“How's Hank dealing with it?”

“He's been having some problems at work, so I haven't told him yet.” Hank's a lawyer with a big firm downtown. “This isn't public yet, but his firm's being gobbled up by Morfum and Chandler.”

The name is vaguely familiar. “They're opening an office in Charleston?”

She nods. “It's a huge firm. Atlanta, New York, Dallas, Chicago.”

“So, I guess that's not all bad.”

“Except they're going to be conducting what they call an ‘efficiency review,' and it seems that Hank may be superfluous.”

“But he's got a great reputation. He'll find another—”

“Maybe, but I feel like … like everything we've worked so hard for … like it's all dissolving.”

“Let's take this one step at a time,” I say. “Has Mandy seen a doctor?”

“She has an appointment with Cheryl Feingold, next week.”

“Cheryl's good.”

“I know, but she's in our book group, so it's going to be all over town.”

“Ellen.” I lean over the table, look her in the eyes. “Cheryl won't blab, but if Mandy keeps the baby, sooner or later everyone will know. That's the least of your problems. The people who love you will support you, and the rest of them … who gives a damn
what
they think?”

“You're right, but it's hard. She needs to go to college.”

“She will.”

“With a baby?”

“You'd have to help her.”

“She won't even consider adoption,” says Ellen. “That's why I want you to talk to her.”

“Of course I will. Now eat your lunch.”

She smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“So,” she says, taking a bite of her salad. “Enough about me. What's going on with you?”

“Nothing new.” I won't burden her with my troubles today. I realize how lopsided our friendship has become: I unload on her, she settles me down. Hardly ever, lately, does it go the other way.

“What's going on with the cat case?” she asks.

“Tony's keeping the cat for a while,” I say, my voice in neutral. “By the way, do you know Katherine Harleston? She works at the county library.” Ellen knows everybody in Charleston.

“She's in the Junior League with me. Nice enough. We've been on a couple of committees together. She always follows through.”

“What about her husband?”

“He's got some kind of antiques business, but I don't think he makes much.” Ellen leans toward me. “I probably shouldn't tell you this, and it wasn't my case, but … a couple of years ago he was on the verge of being indicted for insurance fraud.… I heard he intimidated the assistant solicitor who was handling it.”

“Who was that?”

“I can't remember.” She looks at her watch. “Got to go.” She hugs me. “You made me feel a lot better.”

“I didn't fix anything.”

“But you didn't feed me platitudes, like my sister:
It's a blessing in disguise.… God works in mysterious ways
, and all that.”

*   *   *

I should work on the brief due next week, but when I close the door to my conference room, there's the Beatrice Box. I find the stack of letters from “Simon.”