Page 29 of Witch and Tell

“Cats. She says they’re a plague on society.”

Rodney backed up and jumped off the window ledge. He wanted no part of this conversation.

“That’s crazy talk. I think she’s scared of them. She wouldn’t tell me about her agenda for the meeting, but my guess is she wants to ban Rodney from the library.”

“It’s worse than that. She says cats are predators and terrorize birds.”

“Ruth Littlewood would be sympathetic,” I said. That explained their secret tête-à-têtes.

“Ruth’s not the only bird watcher in town. Marcus Dortmunder, besides having two budgies, has always hated cats, ever since Snowball—that was before your time—got in through his kitchen window and stole a pork chop he’d broiled for his and Evelyn’s anniversary dinner. Plus, Katie Linn heard a story about cats smothering babies in their cradles. She said her husband’s sister’s mother-in-law’s neighbor found her Maine coon in the baby’s crib. The baby was okay, but who knows what might have happened? Those are big cats.” Roz snapped open her fan and batted it in the air. At this point, the fan was less about hot flashes and more a tool to emphasize her glass-half-empty opinions. “I wouldn’t dismiss Wanda. She’s surprisingly convincing when she’s worked up.”

“Do you know anything about her? Why is she in Wilfred, anyway?” I asked.

“She’s a birdwatcher, like Ruth. Obsessed with hawks,” Duke said. I hadn’t known he was listening. “Flamenco dancer, too. Plus an ace kickboxer. She needed to get away from a relationship gone bad, so when I saw the opening at the retreat center, I thought of her right away.”

“I saw her dancing at the retreat center,” I said. If Wilfred had taught me anything, it was a lesson all librarians should know: never judge a book by its cover.

“Clever, Wanda is,” Duke said. “Ever since she was a kid. She made tap shoes out of a pair of oxfords by driving nails into their heels. Bam, bam!” He mimicked thrashing a hammer into a shoe. The violence of his demonstration made me jump.

Roz pointed a finger at Duke. “See? Don’t underestimate her.”

“What has she got against cats?” I asked Duke. “She seems afraid of Rodney.”

He leaned his level against the house. Desmond stepped forward to listen. “Oh no, it’s not fear. She detests ’em.”

“I figured that out,” I said. “What I want to know is, why?”

“It didn’t used to be that way,” Duke said. He shifted foot to foot in a way that signaled he was settling in for a story.

“Tell me more,” I said.

“She used to have a cat, a tabby named Tabby. Tabitha, for real.” He looked up to make sure I understood.

“Tabby the tabby cat. Got it,” I said.

“Wanda loved that cat. The cat slept in her bed, followed her everywhere.”

“What happened?” I guessed that the cat ran away— or worse.

“Tabby moved out. My brother Arthur got a dog, and Tabby wouldn’t stand for it. She moved in with the neighbors, a sweet old couple who fed her chicken livers.”

“Cats do that sometimes,” Desmond noted.

It would break my heart if Rodney ever got it into his head to move. “That’s why she hates cats.”

“Nope,” Duke said. “She was deathly allergic, so it wasn’t a big loss.”

“Cut to the chase, Duke,” Roz said.

“Wanda, see, got engaged to a veterinarian. Not long ago, just after she left the army. She met him flamenco dancing.”

Wanda in the army? Somehow it fit. “Go on.”

“He brought cat hair and dander home every day. She was miserable. Her eyes swelled up, she talked funny because she was congested, and she had terrible headaches. She told him he had to stop treating cats, just stick to dogs, but he refused. They canceled the wedding the morning of the ceremony.”

“You’re kidding,” Roz said.

“That’s awful,” I said.