A Bone to Pick Page 0,29

it, I searched through it, got the right page, punched the numbers frantically. Ring. Ring. "Hello?" a man said.

"Robin?"

"No, this is Phil. I'm subleasing Robin's apartment. He's left for Europe."

"Oh, no," I wailed.

"Can I take a message?" the voice asked, tactfully ignoring my distress.

"So he's going to be coming back to that apartment when he returns? For sure?"

"Yep, his stuff is all here."

"Are you reliable? Can you give him a message in three weeks, or whenever he comes back?"

"I'll try," the voice said with some amusement.

"This is important," I warned him. "To me, anyway."

"Okay, shoot. I've got a pencil and paper right here."

"Tell Robin," I said, thinking as I spoke, "that Roe, R-O-E, is fine."

"Roe is fine," repeated the voice obediently.

"Also say," I continued, "that Arthur married Lynn."

"Okay, got it... anything else?"

"No, no thank you. That's all. Just as long as he knows that." "Well, this is a fresh legal pad, and I've labeled it 'Robin's Messages,' and I'll keep it here by the phone until he comes back," said Phil's voice reassuringly.

"I'm sorry to sound so - well, like I think you'll throw it in the wastebasket - but this is the only way I have to get in touch with him." "Oh, I understand," said Phil politely. "And really, he will get this."

"Thanks," I said weakly. "I appreciate it."

"Good-bye," said Phil.

"Parnell? This is Aurora Teagarden."

"Oh. Well, what can I do for you?"

"Madeleine showed up at Jane's house today."

"That dang cat! We've been looking for her high and low. We missed her two days ago, and we were feeling real bad, since Jane was so crazy about that durn animal."

"Well, she came home."

"We sure got a problem. She won't stay here, Aurora. We've caught up with her twice when she started off, but we can't keep chasing after her. As a matter of fact, we're leaving town tomorrow for two weeks, going to our summer place at Beaufort, South Carolina, and we were going to check her back in the vet's, just to make sure everything went okay. Though animals mostly take care of themselves."

Take care of themselves? The Engles expected pampered Madeleine to catch her own fish and mice for two weeks?

"Is that right?" I said, letting incredulity drip from my voice. "No, I expect she can stay at the house for that two weeks. I can feed her when I go over there and empty her litter box."

"Well," said Parnell doubtfully, "her time's almost up."

The cat was dying? Oh my Lord. "That's what the vet said?" I asked in amazement.

"Yes, ma'am," Parnell said, sounding equally amazed.

"She sure looks fat for a cat that sick," I said doubtfully. I could not understand why Parnell Engle suddenly began laughing. His laugh was a little hoarse and rusty, but it was from the belly. "Yes, ma'am," he agreed with a little wheeze of joy, "Madeleine is fat for a cat that's so sick."

"I'll keep her then," I said uncertainly.

"Oh, yes, Miss Teagarden, thanks. We'll see you when we come back." He was still barely controlling his chuckles when he hung up. I put down the receiver and shook my head. There was just no accounting for some people.

Chapter 6

SIX

As I retrieved my Sunday paper from my seldom-used front doorstep, I could tell it was already at least 83 degrees. The paper predicted 98 for the day, and I thought its forecast was modest. My central air was already humming. I showered and reluctantly put my hair up in hot curlers, trying to bring order into chaos. I poured my coffee and ate breakfast (a microwaved sweet roll) while I burrowed through the news. I love Sunday mornings, if I get up early enough to really enjoy my paper. Though I have my limits: I will only read the society section if I think my mother will be in it, and I will not read anything about next season's fashions. Amina Day's mom owned a women's clothing shop she had named Great Day, and I pretty much let her tell me what to buy. Under Mrs. Day's influence I'd begun to weed out my librarian clothes, my solid-color interchangeable blouses and skirts. My wardrobe was a bit more diverse now. The paper exhausted, I padded up the stairs and washed my glasses in the sink. While they dried, I squinted myopically into my closet. What was suitable for the girlfriend of the minister? Long sleeves sounded mandatory, but it was just too hot. I scooted hangers along the bar, humming