Free Crossing the Lion (a Reigning Cats and Dog) (2010) by Cynthia Baxter Page A

to late forties, his dark hair flecked with silver and his forehead creased. His facial features were attractive enough, if not particularly memorable: hazel eyes, a straight nose, thin lips. He boasted a tan, as if he’d recently returned from someplace warm and sunny. He was also strikingly fit, with broad shoulders and a lean torso that were complemented by his well-cut suit jacket. I decided he was one of those incredibly self-disciplined individuals who, like Tag, routinely spent time at the gym.
    Harry Foss, I guessed. Linus Merrywood’s right-hand man.
    “Goodness, are we the first ones up?” I asked, casting him a friendly smile as I made a beeline for the pair of matching silver urns on the sideboard, one for coffee and one for tea.
    “More like the last ones,” the man replied, sounding amused. “At least you are. As for me, I drove out from the city early this morning and was just delivered here by boat.”
    “In that case, I’m glad there’s still food left,” I said. “Quite a bit of it, too.”
    “I’d go for the croissants, if I were you,” he suggested.
    I followed his advice, then joined him at the table.
    “Charlotte isn’t here to make sure we’re properly introduced,” I told him, “so I’d better do the honors myself. I’m Jessie Popper.”
    “Pleased to meet you,” he said politely. “I’m Harry Foss. I’m the CFO at Merrywood Industries. Linus’s close friend, and as chief financial officer his number two man.”
    “I’m here visiting with friends of Linus and Charlotte,” I explained. “Betty and Winston Farnsworth.”
    “Farnsworth, huh?” he repeated. “That name sounds familiar.”
    “Winston and Linus belonged to the same club in New York.”
    “Ah. That explains it,” he said with a nod.
    Noticing the folded copy of
The Wall Street Journal
on the table next to him, I commented, “I didn’t mean to interrupt your reading. Please feel free to go right ahead.”
    “Nothing but bad news,” he said with a wry smile. “I’d much rather converse.”
    I paused to sip my coffee, then took a moment to relish the miraculous sensation of that first swallow of the magic potion slipping down my throat.
    “How are the employees at Merrywood Industries handling Linus’s death?” I finally asked, sincerely curious.
    Harry frowned. “Everyone is in shock, naturally. Even though the company is huge, Linus was unusually hands-on. Just about everyone knew him personally.Liked him, too. He was the type of person who made you feel as if you were the most important person in the room, even if you were only a waiter who worked for the caterer. He always had a smile and kind word for everyone.
    “He also had an unbelievable memory for names,” he continued, his admiration reflected in his tone of voice. “Once Linus met someone, he remembered that person’s name forever. Whenever I walked through the corridors with him, he’d greet every employee we passed by name. He’d remember something about their lives, too, so he’d say, ‘Good morning, Mary, how’s the baby?’ or ‘Hey, Chuck, still enjoying that new Beemer?’ The man was simply amazing.”
    “Linus certainly sounds like he was well loved by everyone who met him.” I stared into my coffee cup, thinking,
Unless he was murdered—which means someone is out there who didn’t share the love
.
    “Don’t get me wrong,” Harry insisted, as if he’d guessed what I was thinking. “Linus had his share of enemies. No one can become that powerful without making quite a few of those along the way.”
    I quickly swallowed the sip of coffee I’d just taken. But before I had a chance to ask him to elaborate, he said, “You know, it’s kind of strange that everybody is acting so surprised by Linus’s death—especially that they’re all saying the man was in such good health.”
    He glanced around, as if making sure we really were alone. Then, in a softer voice, he said, “I worked with the man day in and day