Claws for Suspicion

One

Kari Stuart gazed around her kingdom and smiled with satisfaction. Okay, it wasn't really a kingdom, it was an animal shelter, and a small golden retriever puppy had just piddled in one corner of it, but still, it had come a long way from the rundown, nearly defunct rescue she had taken over a few months ago.

From her position behind her desk at the back of the room, Kari could see the usual low-keyed hum of activity you might expect on a relatively quiet Wednesday in early October. Over by the new top-of-the-line wood-framed cages against the wall, her friend and head volunteer Sara was showing a young couple some kittens, and trying to persuade them that two would be better than one. From the looks on their beaming faces as they cuddled a pair of little tiger-striped siblings, Kari suspected Sara had been her usual convincing self.

Of course, after more than forty years teaching English to ninth graders, the feisty seventy-two-year-old could get almost anyone to do what she suggested. Kari called Sara her secret weapon. Only the turquoise streak in Sara's gray hair hinted that she might not be the mild-mannered retiree she appeared to be. She had been working at the shelter long before Kari bought it, under its previous owner Daisy, and had stubbornly refused to give up on either the place or their few remaining misfit animals.

Bryanna Jenkins, another dedicated volunteer (now a part-time employee when not attending vet technician classes at the two-year college in neighboring Perryville), was over in the corner cleaning up after the puppy she'd been handing over to its new owners.

Bryn had dealt with plenty of puddles in her time at the shelter, so she was completely unfazed by the mess, laughing and joking with the middle-aged man and his excited teen daughter as they finished filling out the final paperwork. Bryn's dark hair was pulled back into many tiny braids, all of them tucked neatly under a rainbow colored bandana to keep them out of the way, and the bright red Serenity Sanctuary tee shirt she wore looked good with her light brown skin.

She and Kari hadn't hit it off right away when Kari took over, but these days they mostly got along just fine. The younger woman was learning to trust Kari's genuine desire to improve the shelter, and it didn't hurt that Bryn got along so well with Kari's best friend Suz, the local dog groomer.

The main room glowed in the sunlight that poured in from the large windows, showing off the gleaming new linoleum floors and the soft blue paint on the walls. The L-shaped oak desk at the front had comfortable ergonomic stools for the volunteers who greeted visitors, as well as neat stacks of applications and information sheets. On the corkboard behind the desk, there were pictures of that month's featured dogs and cats, along with helpful descriptions like, "Gets along with other dogs and cats. Rides well in cars, but could use additional leash training," along with the basics like age and breed. One adorable hound dog with innocent looking brown eyes had a note that said, "Very sweet. Will eat your shoes."

Kari couldn't help beaming with pride as she took it all in. She knew some people-most people, maybe-thought she was crazy when she used a large chunk of her unexpected lottery winnings to buy and refurbish the sanctuary. But they had desperately needed help, and she had needed to find a purpose in her life. So far at least, she had no regrets at all.

The pen she'd been using suddenly rolled across the desk and onto the floor with a sharp click, jarring Kari out of her reverie.

"Queenie," she scolded. "How many times do I have to tell you that my pens are not your toys?"

The little black kitten perched on top of the pile of bills Kari had been attempting to pay ignored this reminder with the ease of long practice, yawning up at Kari and showing off a pink tongue and sharp white teeth. At seven months old, Queen Nefertiti, or Queenie as she was known, was small for her age, and likely to stay that way, according to Kari's vet. Probably a combination of heredity and her rough start in life as a stray.

In fact, Queenie was directly responsible for Kari buying the sanctuary. When she'd rescued the kitten at about three months old, Kari had discovered to her dismay that all the local shelters were at capacity and beyond. So she'd bought the sanctuary, and ended up keeping the kitten. Or more accurately, the kitten had kept her.

Queenie more than made up for her diminutive size with her stubborn determination to get her own way, and a slightly uncanny ability to know everything that was going on. She insisted on going in to work with Kari every day, rather than staying in the farmhouse on the property with Kari's other two cats, Westley and Robert, and her mixed-breed dog Fred. The kitten was as much a fixture around the sanctuary as Tripod, the friendly three-legged yellow tom cat who had been around so long he was practically their mascot.

"I need to get to that paperwork," Kari said to Queenie, who seemed unimpressed by this fact. "Now stop throwing my pens on the floor." Kari tucked her long brown hair behind one ear as she bent down to retrieve the writing implement. Naturally, the pen had rolled well underneath the desk, so she had to duck down and stretch her arm out to reach it.

As her fingertips touched the smooth barrel, she heard the brassy sound of the bell that signaled the front door opening, and footsteps approaching her desk.

A pleasant tenor voice said, "Hi honey, I'm home."

Kari straightened up so fast she smashed her head against the bottom of the desk. For a moment she saw stars, and her eyes watered from the impact. She supposed it was too much to hope for that she had given herself a concussion and hallucinated hearing that familiar voice. Unfortunately, she didn't think she could be that lucky.

Holding her head, she sat up slowly and looked across the expanse of paperwork and wood. A tall, attractive man with professionally cut dark brown hair, twinkling brown eyes, and broad smile stood there, holding a small bouquet of red roses.

He was impeccably dressed in a black suit that had clearly been chosen to show off his still slim and muscular body, and at forty, only a few silver hairs were visible amid the brown. No doubt women thought it made him look distinguished. That and a few tiny wrinkles around his eyes were the only thing about him that had changed since Kari had last seen him, in court when their divorce was finalized four years ago.

"Hello, Charlie," she said in a calm voice. "Long time no see. You look good. Don't let the door hit you on the way out." She pointed at the front entrance with a finger she was pleased to see wasn't trembling at all. Her stomach, on the other hand, was doing somersaults, as if it had suddenly been taken over by a conga line of drunken mice.

Across the room, Sara's keen ears had clearly picked up on Kari's unaccustomed rudeness and the former teacher raised one gray eyebrow in her direction. Kari just shook her head and focused on Charlie, who didn't seem remotely put off by her less-than-enthusiastic welcome.

"Now is that any way to greet your long-lost husband?" Charlie asked cheerfully. "Look, I brought you roses." He plopped them down on the desk, scattering the neat piles of paperwork in the process. "What a cute kitten, is it yours?" He reached out one hand to pet Queenie, who hissed at him.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kari could see Sara's other eyebrow go up, since normally the kitten was friendly with everyone she met, whether human or furry.

"You tell him, Queenie," Kari said, standing up so she wouldn't get a crick in her neck. At five foot six, she was still a lot shorter than Charlie's six foot two, but at least she wasn't at quite as much of a disadvantage. "And yes, she's mine. You, on the other hand, are not, and I'd just as soon you stayed lost. So if you don't mind, please take your flowers and get out. We don't have anything to say to each other."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Charlie said, looking around. "Nice place you've got here," he said, not sounding like he really meant it. "I couldn't believe it when I heard from someone that you'd bought an animal shelter in this backwater town in the Catskills. What on earth possessed you?"

Kari tried to figure out who he could have heard the news from. She hadn't stayed in touch with any of their mutual friends, who had mostly been his friends and business associates anyway. His mother had hated Kari from the first Thanksgiving dinner, and Kari hadn't spoken to her since she'd left. Suz was about the only friend who had been around during their three short years of marriage, and she had despised Charlie from day one and begged Kari not to marry him. It definitely hadn't been her.

Oh well, it didn't matter how he'd found out. He was here now, and unless something drastic had changed in the ensuing four years, that meant he wanted something. The sooner she discovered what it was, the sooner she could say, "No," and send him on his merry way.

"Believe it or not," Kari said, "I wanted to do something meaningful with my life. Helping animals who would otherwise have fallen through the cracks seemed like a good way to do that. And Lakeview is hardly a backwater town. We have a thriving tourist trade, especially now during leaf peeper season."

She picked up Queenie, who looked like she was considering attacking the roses. Kari would have been happy to let her, but not until after they'd been checked for thorns. Any gift from Charlie was likely to smell sweet and have hidden prickles. "Besides, the commute is short."

Charlie shook his head, giving her the kind of indulgent look you might bestow on a cute but not very bright child. "You always did have a soft spot for critters, didn't you?" he said with a chuckle. "Wouldn't it have been easier to just adopt a few? I doubt there's much money in the shelter business."

Queenie gave a quiet growl and Kari did her best not to do the same. Charlie had never liked animals-he thought they were messy and smelled and took too much work. One of the many reoccurring arguments during their marriage was about whether or not to have pets.

Kari never did win that one. Practically the first thing she'd done once she'd finally settled into her own apartment was to go out and get a dog. Feline brothers Westley and Robert had followed not too much after.

"Nope," she said. "No money in it at all. So if that's what you're here for, you might as well take your flowers and leave. In fact, no matter what you're here for, I can assure you, you're barking up the wrong tree." She nodded in the direction of the puppy, who was now attempting to gnaw on his new owner's sneakers. "Pun intended. I have no interest in anything you might have to say."

"Oh, I think you'll find you do," Charlie said. He perched familiarly on the corner of her desk and smiled up at her. "I have kind of a surprise for you."

Kari hated surprises. In her experience, they were very rarely of the pleasant variety.

"My birthday's not until April," she said. "And I'm not likely to celebrate our anniversary unless it is by burning you in effigy. So whatever it is, I don't want it."

"You may want to rethink that anniversary thing," Charlie said, a hint of smugness in his smooth tone. "Because it turns out, we're still married."

Kari's legs turned to jelly and she sank into her chair before they gave out on her. This had to be a bad joke, right?

"What the heck are you talking about, Charlie Smith?" she asked. "We stood in a courtroom together and a judge accepted the terms of the divorce. Which if you'll recall, were mostly in your favor. There is no way we are still married."

"The divorce wasn't official until we both signed the paperwork and mailed it back in to the county clerk's office," Charlie said. "And apparently you never did that. I checked, and there is no record of our divorce being finalized and officially filed. We're married, all right."

Kari swallowed hard around the lump in her throat. Of course she had sent in the papers. Hadn't she? It was four years ago, and once everything was done with, she'd tried to put it as far behind her as possible.

The kitten jumped out of her arms and nudged at a piece of paper, as if trying to make a point. Over the last few months, Kari had figured out not to ignore her hints.

"Charlie," Kari said in a carefully neutral tone, "Why would you have checked on that, after all this time? Are you planning on getting remarried?" She had been his second wife, twenty-two to his thirty-three at the time, and he'd never been one to be without a woman. Or a few women.

He threw back his head and laughed, making everyone in the place turn around for a moment and stare. His laugh always seemed genuinely charming, just like the rest of him. "Not at the moment," he said. "And it turns out that's a good thing, since I'm already hitched to you."

He straightened the crease on his perfectly pressed pants. "No, I decided to double check with my lawyer when I heard your good news. Just in case I was entitled to something. He was the one who found out the paperwork had never been properly filed."

Kari's heart sank into her sneakers. She was pretty sure she knew which good news Charlie meant. "The good news about my buying the sanctuary?" she said.

"Don't be silly, Dumpling," he responded, using the nickname she'd always hated. It sounded affectionate, but it had been his subtle dig at the extra ten pounds she constantly seemed to be battling. Charlie specialized in the art of the understated put-down. Too bad it had taken her so long to figure out how damaging that was. "I mean your good luck, winning all that money in the lottery. Congratulations, by the way. Well done."