Free The Cat of Christmas Past by Kathi Daley Page B

received a ransom demand and was told not to tell anyone else or the baby would die. I’m not sure we’ll ever know for certain.”
    I sat back and looked out the window at the dark sky. Not knowing what occurred wasn’t an option if I was going to save the Bayview Apartments.
    “I’m going to head over to talk to Tripp,” I informed Finn. “I’m not sure he knows anything relevant that he didn’t include in his report, but it won’t hurt to ask. Maybe talking about it will jog a memory he isn’t even aware he has.”
    “Be careful navigating the roads.”
    “I will. If you think of anything else text me.”
    I left Finn’s office and headed north. Tripp Brimmer lived in an old oceanfront home just outside of Harthaven. Although the trip would normally have taken all of ten minutes, with the icy roads and the need for caution it took me thirty. Maybe, I decided after I pulled up in front of the dark house, I should have called first. I went up to the door and knocked just to be certain he really wasn’t at home, but no one answered.
    I returned to my car and called Tara, who reported that she and Alex were fine on their own until the arrival of the next ferry. I still had a couple of hours, so I decided to see if I could track down Roger Riverton, the man who’d been hired to guard the staircase leading to the second story of the Pottage home. Fortunately, he still lived on the island and still had the same phone number that was on the sheriff’s report. He told me he was heading out for an early lunch, and I arranged to meet him at the Driftwood Café.
    “Good morning, Molly,” I greeted the cashier as I walked into the warm and wonderful-smelling restaurant. “I love what you did with your window.”
    “Thanks. I think it turned out well. I had that old train set from when my kids were little and figured it would make for a festive Christmas scene. Can I get you a table?”
    “I’m meeting a man named Roger Riverton.”
    “He’s in the back. He always sits in the booth in the corner by the window.”
    “Thanks. I’ll find him.”
    I took an appreciative breath of the wonderful aromas coming from the kitchen as I walked to the back of the restaurant, where a middle-aged man was nursing a cup of coffee. It was too bad I didn’t have time to stay for lunch. My stomach was beginning to rumble at the thought of one of the hot turkey sandwiches I’d noticed were on special that day.
    “Mr. Riverton?” I asked as I approached the man in the booth.
    “You can call me Roger.”
    “I’m Cait Hart.”
    “Figured.”
    I sat down across from him.
    I decided it was best to jump right in. “As I explained on the phone, I’m looking into Charles Pottage’s kidnapping as sort of a favor to Balthazar Pottage.”
    “The old curmudgeon doesn’t deserve to have a pretty girl like you wasting your time on a problem he brought on himself,” the man responded.
    “What do you mean?” I nodded in the affirmative when a waitress asked if I wanted coffee.
    “The old miser made a living off the misfortune of others,” Roger answered. “I’m not a bit surprised someone decided to enact their revenge. Of course I did feel bad for the missus. She was a sweet woman who didn’t deserve to have her baby taken from her.”
    “Did you work for Mr. Pottage on a regular basis or were you just brought in for the day?” I asked.
    “I usually worked the front gate. There were a few of us who traded off so that coverage would be available around the clock. Mr. Pottage asked me to work inside on the day of the christening, but normally there wasn’t a guard posted inside the house.”
    “Did it seem odd to you that Mr. Pottage wanted a guard inside the house on that day? It seems like everyone who was invited was a friend or family member.”
    “Not really.” Roger shrugged. “Mr. Pottage didn’t even want to have the christening. It seemed like he’d been concerned about a specific threat ever since the baby