The Cat, the Mill and the Murder: A Cats in Trouble Mystery by Leann Sweeney Read Free Book Online Page B

Messenger
.
    When Mrs. Truman finally wheeled in an old-fashioned tea cart, Pastor Mitch knew far more about Tom and me than we knew about him.
    The pastor stood and smiled warmly at his wife. Shewas smartly dressed in gray wool. I even caught a hint of pearls beneath her coat. Her skin was a good two shades lighter than her husband’s and the mahogany-colored wig she wore beautifully accented her creamy skin tone.
    After introductions, Mrs. Truman said, “So nice to make your acquaintance.” Then she turned to her husband. “I am glad you caught me, Mitchell. I have a meeting of the Pastors’ Wives Association in Greenville, if you’ve forgotten.” She looked at me. “Pastors’ wives have a lot to talk about.”
    “These folks have come to ask questions about our Jeannie,” the pastor said.
    She looked surprised. “But she’s been gone for so long. Why would you be asking about her now?”
    “Because she’s not gone anymore,” I said. “She’s been living in the old mill.”
    A wide-eyed Mrs. Truman said, “Oh no. Who would have thought anyone could live in that place? Is she all right?”
    “Hard to say. We only met her briefly,” I said. “But I think she needs to be checked out by a doctor. If she’s been living in that dungeon-like atmosphere, I’m sure she has a few health problems.”
    “You’re probably right,” the pastor said.
    “Bless poor Jeannie’s heart. This is simply unbelievable. What are you waiting for, Mitchell? We need to get over there right now,” Mrs. Truman said.
    The pastor explained how we wanted to approach the problem and Mrs. Truman, after some argument, agreed. “She was always a very stubborn soul. But Lord knows I cared for that woman. I tried to find her and her daughter a permanent home. We couldn’t continue to let them live with us. Our mission is to uplift the downtrodden. Give them hope as well as charity. I offered to relocate Jeannie to a place in the middle of the state near Columbia.”
    “A shelter?” I said.
    “Not exactly,” Pastor Mitch answered. “So many folks were displaced as the mills closed up in South Carolina. We learned of several retraining opportunities—sent dozens of our parishioners to these programs.”
    Mrs. Truman nodded in agreement. “I found a nice, clean group home where Jeannie could be trained for a new position. Her job at the mill had been a simple one. Cutting loose threads from some kind of loom. Problem was, Kay Ellen would have had to go elsewhere.”
    “I’m guessing Jeannie didn’t go for that,” Tom said.
    “They packed up and left the pastorium the minute after I presented her with the opportunity to move,” the pastor said.
    “Kay Ellen wanted to finish up at Mercy High School,” Mrs. Truman said. “The child had friends she’d gone all through school with, so I couldn’t blame her. Plus, she adamantly refused to be separated from her mother.”
    “And yet,” I said, thinking out loud, “Kay Ellen ran away before she ever finished high school and left her mother behind? That doesn’t make sense.”
    Mrs. Truman pursed her lips and nodded in agreement. “That’s
exactly
what I told Morris Ebeling when he came here asking about the two of them. I was not impressed with his
investigation
into their disappearance.” She checked her watch. “I could cancel my trip to Greenville. I would like to help in any way I can.”
    I said, “Oh, don’t do that. There’s time. See, we have a meeting scheduled with Deputy Carson to discuss the options concerning Jeannie. Plus, I have put in some calls to friends who know of charitable organizations that might help. I’m waiting on them to call me back.”
    Elizabeth Truman smiled. “I do believe Jeannie’s fate is in good hands. But please know we will be right beside you. Call us for any help you need. Truth be told, I am sorelieved Jeannie is alive and it gives us hope for Kay Ellen. Perhaps she is in that mill somewhere, too.” She turned to her