Kent Conwell - Tony Boudreaux 14 - Murder in a Casbah of Cats by Kent Conwell Page A

see if I’d been bitten.
    If there are any PETA folks out there, too bad. I yanked off my running shoe and squashed those suckers to pulp and pulled the comforter off the bed.
    Henry rushed in. “What happened?”
    He saw the crumpled comforter on the floor.
    “What…”
    I pointed at the bed with my shoe. “Spiders. Two of them. As big as your hand.”
    He frowned.
    “Don’t believe me, huh?” I opened the comforter. “Take a look.”
    His eyes grew wide, and he uttered a surprised curse. “I’ll take your word for it. You sure messed them up. But…” He lookedaround the room, seeing the French doors were closed. “How did they get in here? We spray the rooms every month.”
    I shook my head. “Beats me. I’m just wondering if there are any others.”
    And for the next thirty minutes, we inspected every nook and cranny of the room, turning up no other creepy little chelicerate arthropods.
    When we finished the search, Henry looked at me earnestly. “You want to change rooms?” He glanced around, the expression on his beardless face apprehensive. “I don’t know if I could sleep in here.”
    “That’s all right. But, if some of their pals show up tonight, you’ll find me out on the lawn in the morning.”
    After he left with the comforter, I plopped down at the desk, my thoughts going back to the rock through my window. Could the rock and the spiders be connected? If so, why? What was going on around here, for someone to try to drive me off?
    I decided to pay Karla a visit. After all, she was the first one to warn me not to take the job.
    She answered at the first knock on her door. A look of surprise flickered over her face. “Mr. Boudreaux. I didn’t expect you.” She was wearing white shorts and a white blouse, a tennis outfit, I guessed.
    “Call me Tony, OK? How was the swim?”
    A smile dimpled her cheeks. “Refreshing.” She paused. “Can I help you?”
    “You mind if we talk?”
    She hesitated.
    I sensed she was reluctant to have me in her room. “We can talk out here in the hall if you want.”
    Her eyes twinkled in amusement. “That’s all right. I trust you. Come on in.” She turned on her heel and crossed the room to a couch in front of a panel of windows. I followed, leaving the door open. When she sat, she spotted the open door. With a mischievous gleam in her eyes, she said, “Oh, you don’t trust me, is that it?”
    My ears burned. “Call it PI-client rules of engagement, OK?” It was an inane reply but the only one I could think of.
    I sat in a chair next to the couch.
    She drew her tanned legs up under her. “Now, what is it you want to talk about?”
    “The other day you asked me not to take the job. Why?”
    Her smile faded, then reasserted itself on her lips. “Oh, I don’t know. This place is crazy at times. You looked like a nice guy, and I just hated to see you bored out of your skull for the next two weeks, that’s all.”
    I hid my skepticism. Hers was one of those throwaway excuses. “I appreciate that, but I had the feeling there was more to it.”
    She played innocent. “Oh, what do you think my reasons were?”
    Remembering what Edna had said about her and Kevin, I took a shot. “Oh, maybe you were afraid I’d stop Kevin from slipping into your room.”
    Her eyes grew wide, and her jaw hit the floor. “How—How did you…I mean…”
    Old southern chivalry forbade me to tell her everyone in the house knew about her romantic interludes. “Look, what you do isnone of my business as long as the cats are OK.” I shook my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I just said that about the cats.”
    “Crazy, isn’t it.” She paused. “To be honest, that’s what I did think. Skylar knows I have Kevin come in, but she never says anything. I just figured she might have told you to keep him out if he showed up.”
    “Hey, you know how us older folks are. We worry about you kids. But no. She didn’t mention a thing about him. She seems like a nice