Furever Friends

by Patricia Fry

  Andrew thought for a moment. Then he called out, “Hey, Stella, you know these parts pretty well—in your opinion, where’s the most vulnerable part of the rest of this trail, as far as interference with the riders and horses?”

  Stella and Donna joined the others and Stella said, “What kind of question is that, Doc?”

  “As it turns out,” he said, “maybe a very important one.”

  Stella thought for a moment, then asked, “What do you think, Donna?”

  “Hey, I’d say just past Carnes Road. That would be the closest place from here where riders would be exposed.”

  “Yeah,” Stella said, “then there’s the stretch alongside the Neilsons’ place.”

  “Where’s the most likely place that someone could get away with something—you know, maybe sabotage one of the horses?” Andrew asked.

  Stella looked at him, then Savannah and Michael. “Are you writing a mystery novel or something?”

  “I hope so,” Andrew said. “But no, this could be a critical situation.”

  Donna turned toward her friend. “What about Devil’s Gulch? If the timing’s right and the motivation’s strong enough, someone could cause a serious problem there.” She faced the others. “It’s a narrow trail through there, with a drop-off on one side.”

  “Sounds precarious,” Michael agreed.

  “Where is that?” Savannah asked anxiously.

  Stella looked at her. “Why? You don’t want to go there, do you?”

  “Someone may be in danger,” Andrew explained. He said to Savannah and Michael, “I think she may be right. I know the place. Come on, let’s take my truck up there.”

  Before getting settled in his vehicle, Andrew handed Savannah a one-page map. He pointed. “This is Devil’s Gulch.”

  She studied it, then stuffed it into her jeans pocket.

  While Andrew drove, Savannah called the local police department. It appeared that the dispatcher didn’t understand the urgency of the situation, so Savannah put her phone on speaker. Upon hearing the dispatcher questioning Savannah, Andrew said loudly, “This is Dr. Andrew Fielding. I’m a veterinarian for the Desert Endurance Ride that’s happening right now. We have evidence that someone is planning to kill or harm a rider and a horse. Can you please have someone meet us at Devil’s Gulch? Have them come in on River Road—no sirens. Hopefully, we’ll have the outlaws cornered by the time you get there.” The trio heard the dispatcher say, “Sir, now, I don’t think you should…Sir…” But Andrew was finished talking. He was now focused on arriving at the spot in time to stop something horrible from happening.

  Savannah put her phone away and petted Rags, who sat next to her on the backseat of Andrew’s veterinary truck. She picked him up and held him in her arms for a while. When he struggled to get down, she let him go and he climbed into the front seat, where he stood on Michael’s knees, looking out the windshield.

  “It’s as if he knows where we’re going,” Andrew said, “to help his friend.”

  “He probably does,” Savannah said wearily.

  Andrew glanced at her in the mirror. “What?”

  She explained, “I’m convinced that he reads our thoughts.”

  “Yeah,” Michael said, “have you explored that theory in your work?”

  “It comes up once in a while,” Andrew admitted, “but it’s not something I’ve studied. Have you, Michael?”

  “No, but I’ve sure witnessed a lot of instances with this one to convince me there’s something to it.”

  “You mean with Rags, there?” Andrew confirmed.

  Michael nodded. “He seems to know what we’re thinking, at least some of the time.” He motioned toward Savannah. “Especially when it comes to her thoughts.”

  “Interesting,” Andrew muttered.

  “Yeah,” Michael agreed, “but that doesn’t make him well-behaved.” He roughed up Rag’s fur. “He’s still a scoundrel.”

  When Andrew began to slow the truck, Michael looked around and asked, “Is this the place?”

  Savannah sat up straighter in her seat. And Rags began nervously walking around inside the cab of the truck.

  “Shoot,” Andrew spat. “I don’t see any vehicles. I hope I didn’t make a wrong choice in where to go.”

  Michael grimaced. “Maybe we’re on a wild-goose chase and nothing’s going to happen.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Savannah said.

  “What’s that?” Andrew asked, driving a few feet ahead then stopping. “Look, it’s a flashlight. Someone dropped a good flashlight.” He pulled forward, opened his car door, and reached down to pick it up off the ground. “Oh no,” he said, when he felt Rags swoosh past him. “Your cat got out.”

  “Darn it,” Savannah said. She opened her door. “I think I can get him, unless…”

  “Unless what?” Michael asked.

  “Unless he’s on a mission,” she said quietly.” He seems pretty keyed up, like he knows something we don’t know.”

  “Or he’s picking up vibes from you,” Michael said. “Go see if you can grab him. We don’t need him running loose all over the desert.”

  She poured a few treats into her hand and stepped outside the vehicle. “Which way did he go?” she asked, leaning down to look under the truck.

  “I think into the brush there,” Michael said, pointing.

  “Rags!” she called. Suddenly she stopped. She turned and looked back at Michael and Andrew, and put her finger to her lips in a shushing manner.

  The men looked at each other briefly, then stepped out of the truck. “Savannah,” Michael hissed when he saw her walk into the brush out of sight.

  Savannah followed along in the direction she thought Rags had gone. This is kind of a blind to keep people out, she thought. Not cats, though. She was glad to eventually enter an area where the brush was less dense. She caught just a glimpse of Rags running at full speed ahead of her. She continued to trudge in that direction when she heard someone shout. “Get the cat!”

  That’s when she saw the black pickup truck parked off to the right. The trailer had been unhitched and evidently left at another location, but she wondered, How in the world did they get back in here? When she saw how scratched up the truck was, she nodded. Looks like they’re desperate to do whatever it is they have in mind. She crouched in the brush. Now where’s Rags?

  Just then she heard someone cry out in pain and she went on high alert. Darn, I’ll bet those guys got their hands on Rags and he scratched them. They’d better not hurt a hair on his body. She struggled to see beyond the brush. There he is. Those men are trying to get him off the roof of their truck. He has them trapped inside the cab.

  As she considered what to do next, she heard one of the men call out, “Steve, whack him one, will you? He’s not going to let us out of this truck.”

  “You do it, Hank,” Steve said. “I’m afraid he’ll claw my eyes out. He’s evil, man.”

  Savannah began to shake. It is them. Those are the two guys who attacked me last week. It’s them, I know it for sure now. They’re out to hurt Moose. I’ve got to figure out a way to stop them.

  “The horses will be coming anytime,” Steve said.

  Hank spat, “Yes, I know that. Distract that cat so I can get out of here. I’ll be back in a jiff, and you’d better be ready to roll. We’ll pick up the trailer and hotfoot it to the next checkpoint as if nothing happened.”

  “But how am I going to distract the cat without him killing me?”

  “I don’t know. Give him some of that salami you’ve been chewing on. He’s probably a stray and he’s hungry.”

  “Yeah, but he sure looks like the one back at that last checkpoint,” Steve said. “I think he’s a devil cat. He has super devil powers. I mean, how’d he get here?”

  “Maybe he hid out in the truck without us seeing him and rode here with us. How the hell do I know?”

  “I’m not going near that cat, Hank. You’ve gotta com
e up with something else.”

  “Stupid scaredy cat,” Hank bellowed. “Hey, I have an idea,” he continued. “Start the engine and jerk forward. He’ll fall into the bed or on the ground maybe. That’ll give me time to run up that hill where I’ll wait for the horses. Hand me that bullhorn, will you?”

  Bullhorn? Now that doesn’t make any sense, Savannah thought. Why would they want to make a bunch of noise and attract attention when they’re probably out here to do no good—possibly to hurt or kill someone?

  “Okay, now, jerk that creepy cat off there,” Hank instructed.

  Oh my gosh, Savannah thought. Poor Rags. I wish he wasn’t so darned courageous. She looked around and considered running back and alerting Michael and Andrew to what was going on, but she knew there might not be time for that. I must warn the riders. She pulled the map from her pocket. It looks like if I go this way I’ll be able to stop the riders before they reach that guy. She took another look at the map and stuffed it back into her pocket. Okay, that’s what I’m going to try.

  Savannah cringed when she saw the truck lurch forward and Rags tumble into the bed amongst a bunch of boxes. The man named Hank leaped from the passenger door and ran up the hill. She knew she had to warn the riders before they reached Devil’s Gulch, and there was no time to check on Rags. With a heavy heart and renewed energy, she set out walking to the left. She stayed hidden in the brush for as long as she could, then moved more quickly than was physically comfortable up a shale hill toward what she thought was the trail the riders were taking. I have to stop them, she thought. I just have to. I should call Michael and let him know what I’m doing, but there isn’t time. Gads, I’m so out of shape. My lungs are burning and my legs hurt like heck. I want to stop and rest, but I can’t. I just hope I can make it. I feel so weak. My legs are crying out in pain.

  Something ran past her. What was that? Am I seeing things? Oh, I’ll bet it was a rabbit. She stopped for a split second. Out here, maybe a javelina. That wouldn’t be good. She willed herself to stop wasting time and energy thinking and just to focus on moving through the pain and making it to the top of the hill. It looks like the trail is just on the other side of that rise. I hope I don’t run into that darned wild pig or whatever it was that ran past me. Wait, I think I hear someone. Someone’s talking. That…that was a horse whinnying. I’m close to the trail. Thank heavens.

  As Savannah pulled herself over the last hump on the steep hillside, she saw Moose and Sandy as well as a few other horses and riders approaching. “Stop!” she shouted, as loudly as she could, but her voice was weak and she must have looked awful, for a couple of the riders asked her if she needed help.

  “No, I’m okay now,” she said. “If only I can rest.” She sat down and Sandy walked up to her leading Moose and carrying Rags in her arms.

  “Rags,” Savannah said, trying to catch her breath. “Rags, what are you doing here?”

  “I don’t know,” Sandy said, “but when I saw him, I figured we’d better stop.”

  Savannah grabbed Sandy’s arm. “Oh, I’m so glad you did. Those men…” she started

  “Just relax, Savannah,” Sandy soothed.

  “Another women approached and asked, “What happened?”

  Savannah said breathlessly, “Someone is just up the road at Devil’s Gulch with a bullhorn. I think he plans to scare Moose with it and cause an awful accident.”

  “What?” one of the other riders shouted.

  “Yeah, I’m afraid what she’s saying is probably true,” Sandy admitted. “Ever since I decided to return to the sport with Moose, I’ve been hassled and even threatened. She started to cry. “My friends have been attacked.” She jostled Rags affectionately and sobbed. “This guy let us know that whoever it is has followed me here.” She looked around at the others and apologized, “I’m so sorry. I guess I need to pull out so I don’t put the rest of you in danger.”

  “Hell, no! Don’t you dare quit!” one woman shouted. She spoke to the other riders. “Hey, that could be any one of us.”

  “Yeah,” someone else said, “We need to stick together.”

  Sandy wiped at her eyes and looked at Savannah. “You say he’s up at the gulch?”

  “Yes, and the police are on the way.”

  Sandy turned to the others. “What do you say we give that guy some of his own medicine?”

  “I say, let’s go!” one woman shouted.

  A few men expressed their solidarity, as did a couple of other women.

  When another group of riders approached from behind, one of them hollered, “Hey, get out of the damn way.”

  “Barb! Lenore!” one of the riders on the ground called, “we have a sabotage in progress up at the gulch. This woman and her cat came to warn us. We’re going to meet the SOB head-to-head. Come on!” she motioned.

  There were more comments from the riders in the back of the pack. “A sabotage? We can’t have that.”

  “No way. The jerks.”

  “Who’re they after, anyway?”

  “Does it matter? Let’s go!”

  ****

  The truth of what happened next depends on who’s doing the telling of it. But you can be sure that the scoundrels who were bent on ruining Moose’s career and maybe spoiling his spirit failed miserably in their attempt. As to who they were working for, well, that’s still in the guessing stages. Some people are making bets as to how quickly the crumbs will crumble. By then, the mastermind will be long gone and pursuing another business in another country, if he has an ounce of brains.

  ****

  “So how’re you feeling?” Michael asked the following morning as the couple drove home from Arizona with Rags.

  “I’m okay,” Savannah said. “I miss my babies.” She leaned back and swooned. “It was a great weekend, wasn’t it?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “I really enjoyed the speaking gig. I might do more of that. And wasn’t it fun seeing Rags get such a nice award?” She giggled. “He was so darned cute in that bow tie.” Before Michael could respond, she added, “I loved seeing all those beautiful cats at the show and watching that great endurance ride—I mean, that was thrilling, wasn’t it?”

  Michael squinted suspiciously at her. “Were you at the same event as I was?” When she looked puzzled, he said, “Rags escaped too many times to count, he caused a ruckus at the hotel, at the cat show, and at the ride. Did you forget all of that?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’ve learned that just goes with the territory with Rags.” She faced him. “And you have to admit he did a whole lot of good while he was being bad.”

  Weary of talking about Rags, Michael asked, “So does Sandy think Moose is safe now? What does she plan to do with him? Will she continue riding in those events?”

  “I think so. She told me that she’s eager to take Moose back to her small property—she has room for one or two horses there and she feels safe now taking him home.” Savannah chuckled. “She said she’s sure Moose will miss us and especially Rags, but he has a bunch of small friends at their place, too. Sandy said that he’ll no doubt spend his off days—you know, when he’s not training, mingling with the resident chickens, goats, and even a few willing cats who don’t mind an occasional horse-slobber greeting.”

  Michael laughed. He reached for the cup of coffee he’d placed in the console between them, just as Rags leaped over the seat and into Savannah’s lap. “Oh!” Michael complained. “Rags, you spilled my coffee. Darn it,” he griped, pulling the car off the road. “Look what he did. He made a mess.”

  “No problem,” Savannah said, reaching under the seat for a rag.

  After watching Savannah clean up the spill, then place the rag in a plastic bag and toss it on the floor in the backseat, Michael said, “Well, shall we go home to our children and see if we can have a more peaceful, uneventful life, even with this over-the-top, action-packed cat?”

  Stay in touch with Patricia Fry, author of the Klepto Cat Mysteries

/>   Subscribe to her Catscapades Blog:

  http://www.matilijapress.com/catscapades

  Visit Klepto Cat Mysteries

  http://kleptocatmysteries.com.

  Contact Patricia Fry here:

  PLFry620@yahoo.com

  Facebook: Like the Klepto Cat Mysteries on Facebook

  All of the books in the Klepto Cat Mystery Series.