“We took pictures of both houses. Brandt tells me that’s not intrusive or against the law,” Kara said.

Brandt said, “Those run-down farms are a sign of the times, and the crime-scene tape just made it all the more interesting.”

I poured myself and Candace glasses of tea, wondering exactly how much information Kara had shared with Brandt. Had she told him she planned to write a book? Brandt didn’t seem like the type who’d enjoy publicity, especially a story about his mentally ill father’s murder. I brought the drinks into the living room and gave Evan and Candace theirs. I sat on the floor near Candace, and Syrah immediately climbed into my lap.

Brandt turned to me and said, “Kara tells me you alerted the police to go to my father’s property. Seems he had accumulated a large number of cats.”

I glanced up at Candace, not sure what to say. Kara must have told him that much. Did she also tell him I now needed protection?

Candace didn’t look at Brandt. Kara had her entire attention. “You discussed parts of this case with one of the victim’s relatives?”

“Everyone in Mercy is discussing these crimes,” Kara said. “We’ve been doing our homework concerning Mercy. What about you?”

Oh boy. Catfight coming, and not between the four-legged variety who lived here. Kara had no idea what button she’d just pushed.

Candace’s fair skin reddened. “My job is none of your business. And if I found out you disturbed even an inch of crime-scene tape, you’re in for trouble.”

Brandt pointed at me. “What about her, Deputy Carson? She’s the animal lover. Did you consider the possibility that she took my father’s treatment of those cats very seriously and decided to release them? And what about her contact with the exterminator who ended up dead?”

I think my jaw dropped six inches. But before I could sputter a response, Evan was on his feet.

He pulled Brandt up by his shirt front so they were eye to eye. “Do they teach Asshole 101 in law school?” He then shoved Brandt back down onto the sofa.

I realized I’d been holding my breath, but I took a gulp of air when I saw that Syrah had decided he’d had enough of humans acting wacko in his house. But he went after Brandt, not Evan, leaping onto the arm of the sofa and hissing his displeasure.

I thought Brandt might tuck his legs up under him and cower-he looked that scared of a little old cat.

“Get your damn cat away from me,” he nearly screamed.

Candace hadn’t moved, and I swore Kara was holding back a smile. Brandt was definitely showing his less-than-tough side. He was no alley cat, that’s for sure.

“I have no control over Syrah, Brandt. Sorry,” I said.

But Syrah didn’t need coaxing to back off. Done with his intimidation, he jumped down and walked slowly away with one backward hiss for good measure.

Evan still hadn’t sat back down, and the hands at his sides were balled into fists.

Candace said, “Evan, Jillian doesn’t want her house used for WrestleMania. Could you sit down?”

“No. I’m out of here.” He turned and marched toward the foyer. Thank goodness he didn’t slam the door when he left.

“Did you block him in?” I asked Kara.

“I did,” Kara said. “Come on, Brandt. Let’s settle this outside, and then I’ll take you back to the motel. I don’t think riding with Evan is a great idea.”

“I’ll walk you out and make sure this problem is handled peacefully.” Candace got up quickly and went ahead of them so they could see the gun in her waistband.

I was certain a gun wouldn’t be necessary, but it sure did speak loud and clear tucked in a cop’s jeans. I breathed a sigh of relief after they went outside. Two cats immediately arrived to comfort me. Only two. Gosh, I missed my cuddliest kitty of all, Chablis. But she apparently felt the need to care for the guests who didn’t cause a ruckus, the ones downstairs.

Kara and Candace came back inside a minute later.

“I thought you were taking Brandt back to the motel,” I said.

“Evan cooled down and they took off together,” Candace said. “I’m betting this kind of thing happens all the time between them.”

I’d gotten up off the floor and was sitting on the sofa. Merlot was settling next to me, and Syrah had taken his spot on the couch back near my head.

“Still, I hope they don’t kill each other once they get back to the motel,” Kara said, heading past me for the fridge.

Candace stared after her. “Not great word choices.”

“Sorry,” Kara called. “People are dead. I know. But I have got to tell you guys what I found out today.” She came back into the living room, a Red Bull in hand.

I looked at the can.

“What?” she said. “You want one?”

“Not this late,” I said. “I like my sleep.”

Candace removed her gun, set it on the end table and sat down again.

Kara reclaimed her father’s chair. “I have info on your case. Be nice and I’ll share.”

Candace closed her eyes, seemed to be gathering herself. If she had to play sweet to get information, I knew she’d find her inner candy cane.

“What did you find out?” I said, hoping to give Candace a little more time to begin liking Kara, if only for tonight.

“Evan’s got a record, for one thing,” she said.

“We know,” Candace said, her tone even. “Despite how the police station looks, we do have computers and access to databases.”

“I figured as much,” Kara said. “But did you know that the professor hadn’t paid his wife any of his court-ordered support since they got divorced?”

“Have to admit, I didn’t know that,” Candace said. “How’s that relevant?”

Kara leaned back and swigged her Red Bull before answering. “No money for support, but money to buy property. That didn’t sit well with Sarah VanKleet.”

Candace leaned forward. Now Kara had her attention. “She was angry?”

“According to Brandt, furious is more like it,” Kara said. “Apparently the professor had bipolar illness and she’d taken care of him for years. She finally left, he went off his meds and then turned that into an excuse for forgetting to pay support. Or at least that’s what he told the judge.”

“She took him to court?” I said.

“Yes,” Kara answered. “And according to Brandt-the biggest mama’s boy I’ve ever met-he had to be there with his mother. He said the judge bought the professor’s pitiful act. Gave him time to get back on his medication and find a job before paying the back support.”

“Even though the professor had this property as an asset?” Candace said.

Kara nodded. “Brandt said his father could act crazy anytime he wanted to. And what better time than when he was in front of a judge and about to lose his precious farm?”

“So Sarah VanKleet had more serious money problems than the chief and I realized,” Candace said.

“Yes. Even before the professor was fired-for doing illegal research,” Kara said. “Brandt was ashamed of that.”

I was impressed. Kara really had learned her trade as a journalist, and she’d done a great job getting information from Brandt. “Good work, Kara,” I said.

“I thought it would be tricky,” Kara said. “I couldn’t misrepresent myself to Brandt if I wanted to use what he said in my book, but he loves to talk, so I never said anything about my plans.”

“Guess he talked up a storm because you’re not the police. He didn’t tell me anything when I interviewed him. However, we did know about his father getting fired,” Candace said. “But you’re helping me understand the victim better, and that’s the key to solving most whodunits.”

Kara smiled. Not a smug smile, either. She seemed genuinely pleased to be helping. “Sarah VanKleet had to get a job, so she went to work as a secretary in the registrar’s office at the college. She’s less stressed now, despite the court ruling, according to Brandt. Seems she and Lieber are living together.”

“And from what we found out, Lieber was friends with the VanKleets long before the divorce,” Candace said, half to herself. “Sarah and Lieber becoming a couple apparently upset the professor big time, so-” She stopped herself.