Murder on Brimberry Lane: An Adventure of the Curious Feline Companions of Melady Golden

By Aggie Popkin

Crabgrass in Bill Norbert’s front yard early one spring was the first indication that he no longer was in residence on Brimberry Lane. The exemplary neighbor was just gone, and no one seemed to know—or care enough to inquire—why he was gone or where he had gone. Now, five years later, the curiosity of his next-door neighbor’s cat reveals that Norbert has returned to his home as a corpse. The discovery sets up an intrigue that both ignites and unites the suburban neighbors on Brimberry Lane as the murder draws them into a political plot connected to the local election days away in the nearby city center. The circa 2007 events unfolding on Brimberry Lane draw on all life forces of the neighborhood, led by three four-legged sleuths, housecats Mittens, Spunky and Prissy who live on the street with retiree Melady Golden.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664174221

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Copyright © 2021 by Aggie Popkin.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 05/11/2021

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1   The Curious Sound

Chapter 2   Ms. Lady

Chapter 3   Edaw Understands

Chapter 4   Brimberry Lane

Chapter 5   Bill Norbert’s Basement Office

Chapter 6   Murder in Their Midst

Chapter 7   The Mystery of Bill Norbert

Chapter 8   Jennifer Norbert Talks

Chapter 9   Mittens Considers the Clues

Chapter 10 Secrets on Brimberry Lane

Chapter 11 Star-Shaped Locket

Chapter 12 Unveiling a Man of Mystery

Chapter 13 Spider Audenbach’s Political Strategy

Chapter 14 The Christmas Angel

Chapter 15 Spider Audenbach’s Option

Chapter 16 Cats Confer

Chapter 17 Barty Shares His Loot

Chapter 18 Spider Spins a Web

Chapter 19 Edaw Goes Sleuthing

Chapter 20 The Audenbachs

Chapter 21 And the Gang’s All Here

Chapter 22 Petey Dorsey’s First Arrest

Chapter 23 Mother Knows Best

Chapter 24 Spider’s Pawns

Chapter 25 Melady’s Lunch

Chapter 26 How to Catch a Spider

Chapter 27 The Golden Connection

Chapter 28 Mittens Takes Another Ride

Chapter 29 Election Days Loom

Chapter 30 Reggie Goes to Work

Chapter 31 Murder Suspect Arrested

Chapter 32 Mittens Goes Home

Chapter 33 October

Chapter 34 Melady Golden and Her Cats

Chapter 35 Friday Comes to Wikipaw Falls

Chapter 36 Electioneering

Chapter 37 Bad Moves

Chapter 38 Election Day

Chapter 39 Spider Run

Epilogue

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CHAPTER 1

The Curious Sound

T he sun, toasty and soothing, warmed a cozy morning porch on a late fall day in Wikipaw Falls. Mittens was in heaven. She was in her favorite spot under the big windows on the enclosed porch, and she made the most of it. For she sensed that soon the time again would come when the days of nipping cold would prevail and steal away the sun’s dazzling warmth for many, many weeks.

The morning porch was on the back of an old gray house on Brimberry Lane in a quiet suburb and was the perfect spot to enjoy the sunrise at the house that Mittens shared with her sisters. Every morning, when the sun was shining brilliant and hot, its rays peeped through the tall Bradford pear tree in the backyard, warming the porch. The tree’s wide branches spread across the east end of the porch, and its plump green leaves eased the full blast of the early-morning sun. The warm rays lingered until evening. Wide windows offered both a pleasant breeze through screens at the bottom and soothing rays through windowpanes at the top. It was the best spot in the house for lazing in the comfort of the morning sun.

Mittens usually found the spot early and stayed late into the morning, putting her in another world as she rolled over on her back and let the sun massage her furry belly. Ah, belly rubs were the best luxury of all for a housecat. To be exact, an American wirehair, one of many breeds and mixes commonly identified as a tabby.

Wikipaw Falls, a small suburban village west of the Midwestern city of Rivertown, was an area of the United States known for its reverent adherence to the seasons. Winters could bring ice, snow, and subzero temperatures. Springs were unpredictable except for the sure emergence of daffodils, followed by the sprouting of forsythia blossoms, yellow and confident. Summers could be boiling hot and counted on to scorch pampered lawns. Fall brought cooling temperatures and deciduous foliage of brilliant reds and yellows, resulting in ubiquitous mounds of biodegradable leaf bags for curbside pickup.

On this fall day two days before Halloween, Mittens lolled all morning in her morning porch spot. She took two brief breaks from her sun worship to saunter to the kitchen to nibble from her bowl of crunchy milk and chicken- and salmon-flavored nuggets. But she soon returned to her spot. If she were to stay away too long, she might lose it to Prissy, also a wirehair, or Spunky, a vivacious Bombay. They were her sisters, born in the same litter ten years earlier on a big four-poster bed right there in the old gray house. Mittens really didn’t want the hassle of challenging either one of them for the favored spot. Besides, she wanted to make the most of these wonderful warm days while they lasted.

Of the three sister housecats, Mittens was the hunter. Her days lolling in the sun were much-needed rest for her nights out as the neighborhood champion. Without a doubt, that is what Mittens thought of herself. She was a no-nonsense cat. Her duty was to keep in check the incessant population of moles, field mice, pesky rabbits, and meddlesome birds—especially the rude, annoying blue jays.

She was quite humble about her prowess. She never stayed around for a pat on the head after leaving a trophy on the front-door mat. But she was positive her deeds were highly appreciated. Never would it be said that her mom, a stern teacher and disciplinarian, hadn’t taught her well.

Now, her sisters were another matter entirely. Prissy was too timid to hunt but would fight ferociously when teased—which was often. Spunky was vanity itself and contented herself with begging for attention from every human to cross her path. Hunting, egads, was out of the question for her.

Spring was the best time to hunt. That was when the neighborhood critters were at their boldest. Summer and fall were good but required much more stealth. Winter was a miserable challenge, for cold weather was one of the things that housecats could not abide.

And sure enough, four days later, Mittens met not the soothing warmth of the sun’s rays on her morning saunter to the porch but the frosty bite of a chilling northwest wind. Yikes! It was like stepping into a puddle of water. Mittens instinctively shook first her left front paw and then her right as if that would rid the chill. Winter was coming.

Nevertheless, the early nip in the air on this Saturday morning gave way to a pleasant warm midday when the sun once again was bold and the sky a serene blue. After soaking in the abstracted sunrays, Mittens took a leisurely bath, spending twenty minutes cleaning her soft coat. She was a potpourri of colors—a fine tweed of black and tan, accented with strong black stripes. On her back was a spinal column of black fur that gives her the appearance of having all-black fur. But her more prominent accents were snowy-white fur on her hind legs, front paws, face, and chest. Of course, her name derives from the fact that the white on her front paws makes it appear she’s wearing mittens. Keeping herself well-groomed was as important to Mittens as her morning in the sun.

With her morning ritual accomplished, Mittens bounced through the door on the porch made especially for her and her sisters. The small swinging door kept out all but them. Well, almost. Mrs. Raccoon, the brazen hussy, invaded the kitchen one night using the door, though Mittens could not figure how she ever squeezed through with her girth! Nevertheless, the cat door on the morning porch was the housecat’s sure escape. The other doors on the old gray house were not so accommodating. To get out of them, a cat had to lower herself to beg a human.

But on this wondrous November afternoon, ah, freedom at last! Mittens scampered down the steps. She sauntered to the garden and watched a small butterfly the color of winter wheat partake nectar from the pink, lavender, and yellow blossoms in Ms. Lady’s garden. Then she climbed the rock wall surrounding the backyard and crouched in the brush of the tiny woods bordering the yard.

Barty the blue jay wasn’t fooled. The highlight of his day was taunting the cats. He knew that as long as he attacked the cats from behind, swiping their hind sides and droopy tails with his claws, they couldn’t do a thing but take it. The cats hated even more Barty’s constant banter as he attacked. So he swooped low and squawked his mightiest when he spied Mittens in her pouncing crouch. Barty did so to annoy Mittens as well as to alert old Jenny Sparrow, who had an arthritic wing and couldn’t flee a stalking cat.

Mittens flopped a puffed-up tail, showing her annoyance with Barty for spoiling her hunt. Why, she only wanted to scare old Jenny. She would never take advantage of wounded prey. What’s the fun in that? With that amusement gone, Mittens decided to turn her attention to Molly the mole’s burrow in the hill on the east side of the yard. But before she got there, she heard a sound she had never heard before. It was a human sound, but it wasn’t the usual noise from them. It was frightening somehow.

Mittens sensed that something was wrong. Though she was keen on interpreting the sounds from Ms. Lady and the other humans in the old gray house, this was something new. Oh, Mittens knew well when she was being scolded—clawing the furniture brought the worst reproach. She got sharp tones sometimes when she persisted in going outside. Usually, though, the sounds were mushy and cooing and soothing. The humans were not bad when you trained them right. But this sound she had not heard before. It was a muffled moan, much like the noise Prissy makes to fend off Spunky’s teasing.

The sound was coming from the Norbert house next door. Mittens got close to the small basement window and tried to peep in, but a dark-blue curtain concealed what was inside. The muffled sound was definitely coming from Mrs. Norbert’s basement. The closeness to the distressful sound puffed the fur on Mittens’s tail and flattened her ears. Yes, she was sure something was wrong.

Mittens knew Sparkle, the Jack Russell terrier who lived with Mrs. Norbert. She didn’t like him a whole lot, but he was always good for a laugh on the rare occasions he was allowed in Mrs. Norbert’s fenced backyard. He was an incessant barker but was little more than a wimp when it was time for action. Why, Mrs. Raccoon could scare him silly with just the sight of her.

But Mrs. Norbert was a kind woman for whom Mittens would always hold great affection. Mittens remembered the time when she was an impetuous kitten and had wandered into the Norberts’ open minivan and ended up going to young Sean Norbert’s Saturday afternoon football game. When Mrs. Norbert discovered that she had a stowaway, she did not panic and feign a phobia for cats, like some other neighbors. She was calm, and that had helped Mittens remain calm, for Mittens had never before been in an automobile without Ms. Lady.

What’s more, Mittens had never been away from the neighborhood so long before. It was quite disconcerting for a kitten. But Mrs. Norbert treated Mittens as if she had known her for years. She let her nibble on a bit of turkey from the sandwiches she had packed and made sure she didn’t escape from the minivan during the game and be forever lost.

Indeed, Mittens returned home safe and wiser. The very idea that something could be wrong with Mrs. Norbert cast a shadow of anxiety over the curious cat.

Mittens heard and understood a lot that happened among humans as well as the other creatures in the neighborhood. She knew that Mrs. Norbert now was usually the only human in her house. Her son, Sean, had recently finished high school and was away at college. His older sister, Jenene, was all grown up and now a hairdresser working in the nearby city. Mr. Norbert had not been around for years. Mittens had no idea why. Mrs. Norbert had got Sparkle about the time that Mittens stopped seeing Mr. Norbert cutting the grass and trimming hedges. Sparkle was now her companion and fancied himself a guard dog, but one could hardly take him seriously for more than keeping up noise. The cat sensed that the sound inside the basement bode ill for Mrs. Norbert.

Mittens waited outside the window to hear more sounds that might help her figure out what was going on. While waiting, Barty, the blue jay, attacked. With taunting chatter, he pecked at Mittens’s tail. What a time to have to deal with this silly blue jay! Mittens dashed to the steps of the morning porch and entered the safety of her home. She trotted into the kitchen and found Prissy, who blinked nonchalantly at Mittens’s haste.

Prissy was always laid-back. Nothing much ruffled her fur. She walked and talked softly. Indeed, she was a full-grown housecat before she dared to speak louder than a whisper. But there was no fiercer fighter among catkind than Prissy. She offered proof to the idiom that it was unwise to corner a scared cat. Whereas Mittens used her wit to get out of catfights and a sundry of scrapes, Prissy relied on brute force to protect herself. So there was no better cat to have on your side when a foe was at hand.

Prissy and Mittens would be twins in appearance if not for the black and white on Mittens. Prissy’s tweed fur had rich auburn highlights that were remarkably abundant on her undercoat. She had no white or black whatsoever. Still, from a distance, it wasn’t until you saw their feet that you could be sure whether you were seeing Mittens or Prissy.

Pris-Pris! Come with me. I need you to help chase away old Barty.

But why? Can’t you do that?

I’ve got to do something else, and I don’t want Barty bothering me.

OK. But you know I hate fighting.

Uh, sure, Pris. Let’s hurry.

Before they got to the porch, Spunky, glossy black with huge golden orbs for eyes, jogged in at a pace that can only be described as miraculous. How such an obese cat could move so fast was inexplicable. Perhaps it was a matter of mind over matter: Spunky could not fathom that fat in any way described her exquisite physique. After all, she was a light eater. She was just endowed with a voluptuous figure—and it was perfect to her. She had no problem whatsoever keeping up with her skinny sisters.

Where’re you going, girls? Spunky purred.

Come on, Spunk, Mittens replied, you can help too.

The three sisters scampered lithely out the housecat door and then down the steps to the backyard. Prissy ran to the small copse of trees and brush behind the stonewall bordering the yard. There she encountered Barty blue jay on a low limb saying naughty things. He was a bit more brazen because on the limbs around him sat his fellow blue jays: Slim Jim, Suzie, Twinge, and Bootsie. Seeing this, Spunky joined Prissy in the wood to take on the pesky blue jays. The noise was a cacophonous opera that filled the backyard. Both cats and birds were having a ball.

While the birds were distracted, Mittens hurried to the Norbert basement window. She listened. The muffled sound was gone.

Mittens listened for several minutes but heard nothing. She quickly walked around to the front of the Norbert house. She crossed the lawn and then hurried up the paved walkway to the small front porch. It was bare except for a large flowerpot of pink geraniums, a bit droopy from the overnight chills of late. Mittens tried to peep between the folds of the sheer beige curtains on the low front window. The sliver of a view inside showed an ornate large dining room table in light-colored wood with four matching chairs. Beyond the table was a bright-blue floral-print sofa. That was all Mittens could see. There was no movement. Not a soul was in sight, not even Sparkle.

Mittens left the front porch window and went around to the east side of the house. The curved pathway to the back was a set of concrete steps. Mittens followed them to the paved patio and encountered another set of basement windows. But heavy curtains covered these windows too. Mittens listened but heard no sound. She decided to wait several more minutes just to make sure. She didn’t hear the sound again. Mittens sensed that this was not necessarily a good thing. She tried to think of what the sound could have been and what made it go away.

Mittens walked slowly back to her yard and found Prissy and Spunky sunning themselves on the big rocks bordering Ms. Lady’s flower garden. The blue jays were exhausted and quiet. Mittens found a spot on the rock wall and thought about the muffled sound. She was determined to find out what it was.

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CHAPTER 2

Ms. Lady

M ittens prided herself in her ability to reason out things. She was never content until she understood all the mysteries around her. She explored every inch of the old gray house and grounds around it. She knew all about her neighborhood too. In fact, she figured she knew more about the neighbors and their houses than her human, Ms. Lady, who was content to putter around the flower garden and mind what she contends was her business. Or so it seemed.

Mittens was curious about things, and she was persistent. She made sure things went her way. She was not a lap cat—unless she wanted to be. She did not allow humans to pick her up and stroke her fur—unless she wanted them to. In fact, she usually did the things they least wanted her to. She climbed atop the high shelves and cabinets in the old gray house. As a result, she knew that dust bunnies lived in abundance in the back of the high shelf in the fireplace room and that paint was beginning to peel on the ceiling above Ms. Lady’s heirloom china cabinet. She got smug satisfaction from watching unbeknownst from a secret perch atop the kitchen cabinet nearest the pantry door. It was from such vantage points that she learned about the ways of humans.

She knew that Ms. Lady rarely ate anything without first putting fire to it. Next to gardening, preparing food seemed to be her favorite pastime. Ms. Lady spent quite a bit of time in a room that had several different ways for her to bathe. This was one of the most entertaining human rituals. Why they didn’t just lick themselves, Mittens couldn’t fathom. Instead, Ms. Lady doused herself with sprays of hot water or submerged her body in a tub of water with mounds of bubbles or dabbled about a bowl of water, washing only certain body parts.

Then, as if bathing in water were not enough, she began systematically going through all the bottles and tubes on the bathroom countertop. First was the spray can of stuff that always irritated Mittens’s nose—puff, puff under each arm. Then the blue jar of creamy white stuff went on her face. Next, Ms. Lady pumped into her hand a swirl of a thick pink liquid from a tall bottle with pictures of flowers on it. Mittens’s keen nose detected the scent of aloe and freesia. Ms. Lady rubbed the liquid together and then spread it all over her body, starting with her feet and ending with her neck.

Such trouble! While all this was going on, Mittens perched herself on the countertop and inspected each bottle and tube but didn’t miss one of Ms. Lady’s movements. Mittens loved joining Ms. Lady for this spectacle.

Mittens also observed comings and goings. She knew that Ms. Lady now spent most of the day in the old gray house. Only occasionally now did she leave wearing her special shoes that made the loud clickety-clack noise and carrying her special bag, stuffed with papers, which Mittens knew meant Ms. Lady would be gone until evening shadows crept across the front lawn.

On such occasions, Mittens, Prissy, and Spunky had to make sure that Ms. Lady filled their food and water bowls—and cleaned the litter boxes—before she left. Ms. Lady, on rare occasions, in a rush, forgot to meet the schedule to which the sisters had become accustomed. It was Prissy’s job to make sure the food was plentiful and fresh. The sisters enjoyed nibbling a few bites throughout the day. Spunky was in charge of the water bowls, and Mittens was responsible for the two plastic litter boxes in the laundry room. The flop-flop of a tail from a cat sitting in front of a food bowl, water bowl, or litter box was a clear message to Ms. Lady.

Cats were very particular creatures. They hated any deviation from routine when it concerned their food and toilet.

Mittens also knew when Ms. Lady was going away for a few days. That’s when Ms. Lady put clothes and shoes in the big tapestry bag with the wide strap. For the last year, as Ms. Lady was going to work less, she was going away much more on long weekend trips to her WOW outings. WOW stands for Women of Wonder and was a social club of women Ms. Lady had met over her long career as a court reporter.

These WOW trips were always trying times for Mittens, Prissy, and Spunky. It meant cat sitting with Edaw, Ms. Lady’s son, now grown and living on his own, though he popped in regularly enough to still be in residence. Now, Edaw was great company, but he had a terrible memory. He never seemed to remember the housecats’ schedule for food, water, and litter boxes without numerous hints. But the sisters knew that he was a cat person, despite his absentmindedness, and simply adored being with him. Whenever he came around, they greeted him as though he were royalty and went with him everywhere. They talked to him about their day because he seemed to understand all they said. He was generous with rubs behind the ear and kind words. He also brought toys dipped in catnip! But attending to their needs was something for which Ms. Lady was much better suited.

*    *    *

It so happened that the day after Mittens heard the muffled noise at the Norbert house—a rainy, windy, unpleasantly damp, and chilly Sunday—was a day when Ms. Lady placed the big tapestry bag on the bed. Mittens watched as Ms. Lady packed a pair of warm trousers, a sweater, and thick socks. Ah, wherever she was headed, she planned to spend some time outside, observed Mittens. But it appeared she wouldn’t be gone for more than three days from the amount neatly folded into the bag.

Mittens was always saddened to see her go and let Ms. Lady know so. She always sat morosely close by with her face on her front paws as Ms. Lady packed. This time, though, Ms. Lady noticed a difference in her alpha cat’s mood. She came over to Mittens and looked directly, inquisitively into the emerald ovals. With permission granted, she lifted the cat into her arms and gently massaged behind her ears.

Don’t worry. My leaving might prove opportune. Edaw will be here. Tell him about the muffled sound.

Mittens placed her paw softly on Ms. Lady’s arm and looked up and blinked once. Yes, Edaw would do.

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CHAPTER 3

Edaw Understands

E daw was very tall. He towered above Ms. Lady, the name Edaw called his mother, Melady Golden, and the Old Soldier, Ms. Lady’s best friend and former husband and Edaw’s dad, Joshua Golden. Edaw was very handsome too. His pecan-brown skin was smooth across expressive cheekbones and a strong, high-bridged nose with slightly flat nostrils. His jaw line tapered to a point from his broad forehead and was framed by a smooth black goatee that reached up to meet a full mustache. He kept his black hair in a ponytail. Mittens thought of it as cattail and saw it as a sign that he appreciated the beauty of cats. Just like the sisters, Edaw took great care of his luxuriant tail of hair.

Mittens knew also that Edaw loved adventure as much as she. Edaw was the one person she could tell about her nights out hunting and patrolling the neighborhood. Only he listened with the requisite intensity and understanding as she recalled her sometimes-long adventures. So with Edaw coming, she felt confident that she’d get to the bottom of the muffled sound.

Edaw arrived while Ms. Lady was grooming her house, a ritual she performed before leaving on a trip. Before Mittens could get to him, Spunky and Prissy were at his feet to greet him. Spunky was absolutely beside herself whenever Edaw was around. She knew she was his favorite. Mittens didn’t mind. She knew that Spunky thrived on human attention, and Edaw was most understanding of her condition. Prissy, on the other hand, simply wanted to be acknowledged so that she could retire again to her spot by the heat register in the fireplace room. She found the chilly day especially annoying.

Melady puttered around for several minutes checking this and that before finally deciding she was ready to go.

Edaw! My bags, please, son. Oh, don’t forget to add a tad of milk to Prissy’s food. And make sure you clean the bowls before adding fresh food. As she prattled on, she walked over and patted goodbyes to Mittens and Spunky and then kneeled to look into Prissy’s pale-amber eyes and stroked her gently head to tail.

*    *    *

With Ms. Lady on her way, Mittens knew she would have Edaw’s attention once he settled down on the sofa in the living room.

And sure enough, Edaw—adept at multitasking—soon had a new Fantastic Four comic book; the television tuned to the Rivertown Ducks football game; and an array of corn chips, salsa dip, soda, and lemon cookies spread upon the sofa table. A fire in the hearth gave the big room extra warmth. The sisters settled themselves on the sofa with Edaw, Spunky beside him with her head nuzzled on his lap, Prissy on the arm of the chair nearest the fire, and Mittens on the back of the sofa near Edaw’s ear.

Edaw, I have the most amazing thing to tell you, Mittens began in a calm tone, belying her excitement. She chattered on for several seconds, relaying every detail of her encounter with the muffled noise and how concerned she was