The Purrfect Murder

again.
    “All right!” Harry turned to Susan. “Let me settle this.”
    Susan pulled off High Street into a bank parking lot. “They’ll scratch you.”
    “They’d better not if they know what’s good for them.”
    Harry opened her door. Hearing it slam, the cats perceived the situation. They parted, retreating to opposite sides of the back, and began grooming.
    Harry flipped up the hatchback. “Just what in the hell do you two think you’re doing?” No feline response brought forth a human torrent. “It’s a privilege to ride in this station wagon. It’s a privilege to visit Cazenovia, Lucy Fur, and Elocution. And it’s a privilege to cruise around town. If I hear one squeak, one snarl, one ugly meow, you two worthless cats are never riding in this station wagon again. Worthless. You haven’t caught one mouse in the barn, and I know they are there.”
    Mrs. Murphy replied,
“We have a deal with the tack-room mice. They aren’t destructive. They’re—”
    Pewter interrupted.
“She hasn’t a clue.”
    “You shut up, fatty screw loose. You’re the reason we’re in this predicament.”
    “Me! Me!”
Pewter stood up.
    “Don’t you dare.” Harry grabbed her by the scruff of the neck, shaking her lightly, the way her feline mother would have done.
    Releasing the gray cannonball, Harry peered intently at Mrs. Murphy, pointing her index finger right at her. All three animals knew what that meant. The next gesture would be a little smack on the fanny.
    Harry shut the hatchback, returned to the front. “Susan, how do people with children do it? You had two.”
    “Animals are more intelligent.” Susan laughed good-naturedly.
    Harry wheeled around as if to catch the cats off guard. “I’m watching you.”
    Silence.
    They drove east on High Street. “How about I turn down by Fifth Street and I’ll pick up 64?”
    “How about we cruise by Woolen Mills first?”
    “What’s in Woolen Mills?”
    “Mike McElvoy’s house.” Before Susan could protest, Harry rapidly said, “When we were at the Poplar Forest ball, Mike and Noddy came by. The usual small talk, and she kidded about his work shed. Said he’d spent as much money on that as she did remodeling the kitchen.”
    “And?”
    “She said it’s where he buries the bodies.”
    “Harry, that’s a figure of speech.”
    “Well, we can at least peek in it. Susan, remember Tazio told us he’s antiabortion, and might I remind you, Tazio is still in jail. What’s a drive by?”
    “Nothing I guess, unless you swing the shotgun out the window.” She exhaled. “I don’t know why I let you talk me into these things.”
    “Because I’m your best friend. Because you love me.”
    Susan smiled. “I do, but you drive me crazy.”
    “Not a far putt.”
    They both laughed uproariously.
    “Yeah, well.” Susan shrugged.
    “I love you, too.” Harry waited a beat, then whirled around again. “I’m watching.”
    “Two-legged toad. You’ll get back trouble before I do,”
Pewter sassed, but her anger toward Mrs. Murphy ebbed.
    “Miss Hemorrhoid,”
Mrs. Murphy added, a devilish glint to her eyes.
    Triumphantly, the gray cat sang out,
“Now who’s talking about anuses.”
    Mrs. Murphy froze, considered another retaliatory attack, but thought better of it, for Harry meant what she said.
    The two-story frame house, painted a Williamsburg blue with white trim, came into view. It was at the end of the street, which afforded a bit more quiet, not that Woolen Mills was particularly noisy. It was a pleasant neighborhood, the only drawback being when the winds changed at the city sewage-treatment plant.
    “Hey, those boxwoods are gorgeous.” Susan noted the boxwoods lining the walkway to the front porch.
    “English. Tight as a tick.” Harry craned her neck to see the shed. “Slow down.”
    “I’m going five miles an hour,” Susan dryly replied.
    As she turned in the small cul de sac, Harry caught sight of the shed at the rear of the verdant lawn. “Hey, that is nice, and he has a gravel drive up to it. He could do all kinds of things there, and who would notice?”
    “Presumably Noddy?”
    “Naw.” Harry shook her head. “If he’s there working away or using a computer or something, she’d be busy herself.”
    “Where did I read that Internet porn sites have become a big problem in marriage?” Susan tried to recall the magazine as she drove out of the cul de sac.
    “You’d think it would be better than hiring