Hannah got out of the car, and her gaze swept the house. “It’s charming.” She sounded surprised.
“I’ll let you in.” He opened the gate to the picket fence and walked to the door, which he unlocked and pushed open. “After you.” The women stepped past him into the foyer. He’d just cleaned it on his day off in hopes of renting it, and he could still smell the Lysol in the air. “Where’s your luggage?”
“At my aunt’s.”
“I’ll go get it for you. I don’t want Reece following you here.” His mind still raced about how to hide Caitlin now that he knew Hannah was looking for her. And what was Reece’s game? By now Reece knew where his sister lived. At least she lived with a sheriff’s detective.
“Oh, my cats are there too.” Hannah bit her lip. “I—I should probably go back there instead.”
“Cats? I hate cats.” The thought of the sneaky creatures strolling through his house made him wince. “Can’t your aunt keep them for you while you stay here?”
“She just lost her son. I don’t want her to have to worry about them. I need them with me. It will take Reece a while to figure out where we are.”
“If he’s as guilty as you say he is, he might have been the one to throw the Molotov cocktail through the window. Just how many of them are there?”
“Four.”
At least she had the grace to look a bit ashamed. “You have plenty of litter? And food?”
“Yes, I brought all their things with me. The stuff is at my aunt’s too.”
Now that he looked a little closer, he saw that her eyes were almost catlike. The golden brown color and the almond shape reminded him of a tabby’s eyes. As he’d often told Caitlin. He shoved the thought away. “I’ll go get the felines. They can stay here.”
“Are you sure? Will Ajax be okay with them?”
Ajax looked up at the mention of his name and came to sit at Matt’s feet. “I’ll leave him here for now. Anyway, Ajax loves cats. It’s his one flaw.”
She smiled then, and he thought she should do it more often. The flash of white teeth and the light in her eyes made him smile back in spite of the way he wished he could boot out the felines.
“Maybe I should go with you. They’ll be out of sorts in a strange place without me around.”
He knew the feeling. Leaving the two women in his house made him want to stalk around and swish his tail too—if he had one. “I can handle it. I don’t want him watching your aunt’s house and following you back here.”
He stopped to get Blake to help, then drove out to the Honeggers’. Buggies still lined the road and the driveway. “I wish we had something new to tell Mrs. Honegger,” he told Blake as he parked and got out. He nodded to several Amish men sitting around smoking on the front porch. Another woman came to the door when he knocked, then Mrs. Honegger pushed through the crowd to step out onto the porch with him and Blake.
“May I help you?” she asked.
“I apologize we don’t have any news yet, ma’am.”
“We wait on the Lord’s will, son.”
“We plan to see justice done, Mrs. Honegger. I’ll track down the killer.”
“When you do, let me know. I need to go to his family.”
Did she plan a tongue-lashing? “Why do you want to see his family, ma’am?”
“I will accept this from the Lord’s hand, young man. I’ve already forgiven the one who did this, and I want to comfort his family.”
Matt didn’t understand how she could be so calm and accepting of what had happened, but her attitude intrigued him. “I’m here for another reason. Your niece and her friend were followed today by Reece O’Connor. And someone tried to run Hannah down in the buggy on her way to the grave site. I’m having them stay at a home close to the sheriff’s station.”
Mrs. Honegger put her hand to her mouth. “Hannah! Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. She escaped without incident.”
“Oh dear. I need to talk to Hannah, explain what’s happening.” The woman literally wrung her hands. “I should never have sent her the picture.”
“Tell me, do you know who threw the explosive through your window?”
She looked up at him, her brow smoothing. “I’ll talk to Hannah. It’s not your concern. It’s a family matter.”
“If you know something, it’s your duty to tell me.”
“I’ll talk to Hannah only.”
He scribbled down the address and phone number where Hannah was staying. “Here’s her contact information. Don’t wait too long. I believe she’s in danger.” He pressed it into her hand. “I’m here to get her luggage and cats.”
Relief flooded her face. “They’ve dug up my flower bed trying to get some poor chipmunk.”
“You let them outside?” He had a vision of trying to corral four cats. It wasn’t pretty.
“I had no choice. They stood at the door and meowed until I wanted to cry.” She stepped through the door, and he followed. “Their carriers are on the back porch.”
He saw them stacked in the corner. “I’ll get them.” He grabbed two. Might as well get started. One black cat with white paws sat licking its paws in the flower bed. He approached with caution. “Hey there, kitty.” The animal looked up with obvious disdain in its green eyes. Matt set the animal containers on the ground and opened the doors. “Want to go see Hannah?” He rolled his eyes at his own stupidity. Like the dumb things could understand.
To his surprise, the feline gave one last lick, then calmly walked into the closest cage and curled into a ball. He clicked the door into place before the cat could change its mind. Glancing around, he spied a white cat under a blooming crabapple tree. He scooped up the second carrier and walked toward the cat. The animal scampered away and leaped onto a branch about face high, where it hunkered down among the white blossoms that gave off a sweet scent.
He set the cage down, then scooped up the cat. It meowed and squirmed, but he managed to stuff it inside and get the gate closed. When he turned around, Blake came toward him with the other carriers.
“I’ve got them,” he said.
Matt caught a glimpse of a calico face and a ginger tabby. At least he didn’t have to chase them down. Once they loaded the cats and the girls’ luggage in the SUV, he nodded toward the woods. “Let’s take another look around while we’re here.” He ran the windows down and headed out back.
The crime scene tape still marked off the area in the clearing. He ducked under it and glanced at the spot where they’d found the body. The technicians would have gone over that area with a fine-tooth comb. But maybe something else was here. Birds scolded from overhead as the men picked their way through the underbrush.
He caught a glimpse of movement between the leaves. “Hey!” he yelled.
A man’s face peered through the foliage. Ruddy cheeks bloomed above his black beard laced with gray. Matt guessed him to be about forty. Dressed in jeans and a bright red shirt to alert hunters to his presence, he stepped from the concealing bushes and came toward them with a backpack slung over one shoulder and a GPS unit in the other. A woman about the same age followed. Her jeans had muddy patches on the knees, and she wore a red long-sleeved blouse. Her long hair, streaked with white, held twigs and leaves. A plethora of patches covered their vests.
Once he got nearer, Matt recognized the man as the geocacher who’d found Moe’s body. Kevin Brainerd.
“Is there a problem, Detective?” Kevin asked. He stood with his feet planted apart.
“You live near here?” Matt asked.
Kevin shook his head. “Me and my wife”—he thrust a thumb at the woman—“we got a place on the other side of the county.”
“I’m surprised you’re back over here considering what you found the other day.”
Kevin shifted and glanced at his wife. “With all the hoopla, we never found the cache we were looking for.”
“Did you know the victim?” Matt asked.
Another quick glance at his wife. “Well, we bought vegetables from his mom every summer, and we talked to him occasionally.”
“Find your cache this time?”