Free What the Cat Saw by Carolyn Hart Page A

waiting tables in the interim, but someday, somehow she would write again. Bill wouldn’t want her to give up. The only happiness she’d known in this last dreary year was when she was writing. That became a world in itself, arranging facts, finding words, creating a story.
    Nela came behind the counter. A vase of fresh daisies sat on the corner of Rosalind’s desk. A foldout photo holder held pictures of three cats, a bright-eyed calico, a thoughtful brown tabby, and a silver gray with a Persian face.
    Rosalind saw her glance. “My gals, Charlotte, Emily, and Anne. They can’t write, but they snuggle next to me when I read. Funny thing”—there was an odd tone in her voice—“and you probably won’t believe me, but every time I sit down with
Jane Eyre
, Charlotte rubs her face against the book. Of course, she’s making it hers, but it’s only that particular book. Go figure.” As she talked, she flicked envelopes with the ease of long practice into a long plastic tray. Dividers were marked with recipients’ names. “I’ve added the mail for Miss Grant to Dr. Blair’s stack. I guess Chloe told you about the accident. That was a shocker.” She slapped the last of the letters in place. “The trustee’s mail is always delivered first.”
    When Nela lifted the plastic tray, Rosalind gave a half salute. “If you need reinforcements, I’ll be at The Office.”
    Clearly Rosalind’s tone was wry, but Nela dutifully inquired, “The Office?”
    “That’s Craddock’s home-away-from-home watering hole. Coldest beer, hottest wings.” A grin. “When things get too hairy here at Haklo, we always kid around and say you can find us at The Office.” A sigh. “In my dreams.”
    Blythe Webster’s door was still closed.
    Nela shifted the tray on her hip. She’d been instructed to deliverthe mail. She would do so. She knocked lightly on the panel, turned the knob, and pushed the door open.
    “…have to investigate.” The man’s voice was loud, stressed.
    The door made a sighing sound.
    Nela immediately realized she’d intruded at a stressful moment. Blythe Webster stood behind her desk, face drawn down in an intense frown. Louise Spear stood a few feet away. Eyes huge in a shocked face, Louise twisted her hands around and around each other. The lanky director moved back and forth, a few steps one way, then back again, clearly distraught.
    Nela obviously had interrupted a grim conversation. The sooner she departed, the better. “Excuse me. I have the morning mail for Miss Webster.” She remained in the doorway, poised for a quick withdrawal.
    Blythe lifted a hand to touch a double strand of pearls. Her face was set and pale. “Put the letters in the in-tray.”
    Nela quickly crossed to the desk, deposited several letters and mailers.
    Blythe managed a strained smile. “Nela, this is Dr. Blair, director of the foundation. Hollis, this is Nela Farley, Chloe’s sister. Nela is taking Chloe’s place while she’s on her holiday.”
    “Thank you, Miss Webster. I met Dr. Blair earlier.” She began to move toward the door.
    “Wait a minute.” Blythe’s tone was sharp. She glanced at a diamond-encrusted watch. “It’s almost ten. We must deal with this immediately. Nela, as you deliver the mail, inform each staff member that the meeting has been moved to ten o’clock. Attendance is mandatory.”

5
    L ouise looked at the grandfather clock in the corner of the conference room. The minute hand stood at twelve minutes past ten. The golden oak of the clock matched the golden oak paneling. In the glow of recessed lights, the granite conference tabletop added more serene colors, streaks of yellow and tangerine against a wheat background.
    A sense of unease pervaded a room where no expense had been spared to create a welcoming environment. In the mural on one wall, monarchs hovered over reddish orange blooms on waist-high grasses that wavered in a wind beneath a cloudless blue sky. On the other wall, a buffalo