A Purrfectly Perilous Plot

by Patricia Fry

  “You don’t have to remind me,” he grumped. “I know how many mouths I feed. Anyway, we’re close to arresting this guy,” Craig said.

  “The ex-husband with the cats? Why?” she asked.

  “Because your man Rich Lang has an airtight alibi,” Craig explained. “He didn’t do it. It’s looking more and more like her ex came out of the woodwork and that he killed her, leaving fur from one of his cats on the body.”

  “One of his cats?” Savannah questioned. “You say he has maybe four cats, but you found fur from only one of them? Now that’s odd, unless three of them are hairless cats.”

  “No,” Craig said. “All the cats I saw in his apartment were wearing coats. They’re all black except for one, and that’s the one that’s missing. The ex-husband admits that cat’s orange and it was orange cat hair that we found at the scene. We want to get our hands on that cat to make sure it’s his fur, but the suspect says it was stolen. Sounds suspicious to me, doesn’t it to you? He claims that when he came home from someplace last night a window was broken and the cat was gone.”

  “So did you collect some of the orange cat’s fur from his house?” Savannah asked. “Yes, the color’s a match, but we don’t have DNA results yet.”

  Savannah thought for a moment, then asked, “Are you saying you didn’t find any black cat fur at the scene at all? Now, don’t you think that’s odd? Around here, all of the cats and the dog shed equally. I leave the house with samples from all of the animals on my clothes.” She chuckled. “Sometimes even the horses.”

  “I guess they might find more cat hair once they start testing the evidence.” Craig said.

  “I’ll be interested in what they find.” Savannah asked, “So who is this ex-husband? Anyone I know?”

  “Well, since he’s into cats, it sure could be. Do you know Marvin Stanley?”

  Savannah gasped. “Marvin?”

  “Yeah. So you know him? Savannah. Savannah,” he said, trying to get her attention. “Are you there?”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice a mere squeak. She cleared her throat and said, “Craig, he’s a member of the writers group. He went out to the site with us Saturday night. I gave you his name, didn’t I?”

  “Maybe. I don’t remember.” With more excitement in his voice he said, “So he was with you Saturday night while the murder was being rehearsed?”

  “Yes,” Savannah said, “and I thought he was acting a little odd. In fact, he seemed to know Angie.” She paused. “Wow, I guess he did.”

  “I guess so,” Craig agreed.

  “And I think Rich and Marvin have some sort of history,” Savannah added, “but they barely spoke to each other Saturday night. I wondered what that was about.”

  “So the plot thickens,” Craig said. “Tell your writer friend Rich that you can’t make this stuff up.”

  ****

  “You seem distracted this evening,” Michael said when he joined Savannah in the living room after they’d put the children to bed that night.

  “Yes, my head’s spinning with thoughts of that bizarre killing that I actually may have witnessed before the fact.” She rested her head in her hands. “Oh, I’m just so blasted confused about it all. I almost feel guilty of…”

  “Of what, hon?”

  “I don’t know, but Michael I watched that man go through the motions of committing a murder, and now it has happened almost exactly the way he staged it.”

  “Have they arrested your other friend, Marvin—the woman’s ex-husband?”

  “I don’t know.” She faced him. “Michael, Craig said Rich has an airtight alibi. I sure wonder what that could be. As hard as it is to imagine that Rich would actually kill someone, it’s even more difficult to believe that Marvin could.”

  “But Marvin had more of an emotional tie to the woman, didn’t he?” Michael asked. “It makes more sense to me that he’d do it.”

  “Who knows?” Savannah said. “Obviously Rich knew her too. We have no idea what his connection to her was.”

  When she continued to brood, Michael said, “Why don’t just try to relax. Want me to give you a massage? Come lie down. Your mom’s up in her room, the children are asleep.” He chuckled. “Rags is over there licking Buffy’s head. Take off your blouse and I’ll see if I can help you relax those tight back muscles.”

  ****

  “Did I hear you talking to Craig earlier?” Michael asked when he joined the rest of the family in the kitchen the following morning.

  Savannah nodded. “Yes. They’ve been questioning Marvin, and his cat’s still missing. Craig said that when they examined the clothes Marvin was wearing and, I guess, some from his closet, everything had both orange and black fur on it, so they’re stymied as to why they found only orange fur at the scene.”

  “It could be a different orange cat,” Michael surmised. “A feral cat that lives out there, maybe.”

  “I was hoping so, but no. The orange fur from Marvin’s apartment matched that found at the scene.”

  “Do you think he took his cat with him the night of the murder for some reason?” Gladys asked.

  “I don’t know why he would,” Savannah said.

  “To torture his ex-wife? To put her into anaphylactic shock?” Michael suggested. “You said she’s allergic to cats.”

  “Oh,” Savannah said. “I wonder. I guess that’s possible. Wow! That sure makes Marvin look bad. I’ll suggest that to Craig.” She chuckled. “And guess what else Craig told me.”

  “What?” Michael asked.

  Gladys waited to hear the answer too.

  “He said there was also fur from another cat at the murder scene.”

  “Oh?” Michael said.

  Savannah grinned. “Yeah, a cat that we know and love.”

  “What cat?” Michael asked rather impatiently.

  “Rags,” she said.

  “How…?” Michael started. Then he understood. “Oh, because you took him out there Saturday night, right?”

  “Yes. And I didn’t know this, but Rags’s DNA is in their system. I guess that once they’ve had to test an animal, they hold onto the information in case they need it at a later date.”

  “Lordy, lordy,” Michael grumped.

  Ignoring him, Savannah added, “Oh, and guess what Rich’s ironclad alibi is. He was at an all-night gym.”

  “He was there all night?” Gladys asked.

  Savannah shrugged. “Probably not, but he was supposedly there during the time of the murder. Craig said Rich signed in and he signed out, so he has proof.”

  “Could they have the time of the murder wrong?” Gladys asked.

  “I suppose that’s possible,” Savannah agreed. “I didn’t suggest that to Craig. He seemed rather eager to get me off the phone, actually.” She faced the others. “He’s more than happy to chat with me about a case when Rags is involved or if he thinks Rags can help, but he’s being rather close-mouthed about this one.”

  “Seems like he’s told you quite a few things,” Michael reminded her. When she didn’t respond, he said, “Earth to Savannah.”

  “Oh, sorry, hon. I was just wondering if we really do have an all-night gym in the area. I know that Rich belongs to a gym, or at least visits one that has some sort of wall that you can run up.”

  “Run up?” Gladys asked.

  She nodded. “Yes, he practiced on one of them so he could run up the chain link fence and over the top.” Her eyes widened. “He was really rather awesome the way he did that.”

  “By the way,” Gladys said, “there is an all-night gym out at that mall on the highway.” When Savannah and Michael both looked at her, she asked, “What?”

  “Have you been working out at the gym at night, Gladys?” Michael asked. “Is that how you stay in shape to keep up with the kids?”

  “Yeah, of course I do, Michael,” Gladys teased. “No,” she said. “Actually, Karl and I went out to lunch the other day at that new deli and I saw the big sign in the window of the gym saying th
at it’s open twenty-four hours. I was kind of surprised. We asked the waiter about it and he said that he works out there late at night a few times a week because, with his job and school, he doesn’t have time during the day.” She chuckled. “Brent was his name. He said that you don’t get much help at night, though—you know, from the trainers. There’s only one person on duty and he’s usually in the office the whole time he’s there. Brent suspects the guy’s taking a nap.”

  “Hmmm,” Savannah said. “Ironclad alibi, huh? I’d better call Craig.”

  “Hey, let’s eat breakfast first, okay?” Michael suggested.

  Savannah jumped. “Oh sure. Sorry, hon.” She broke a couple of eggs into a large pan and dropped two more pieces of bread into the toaster. Meanwhile, Gladys took a jar of homemade jam from the pantry and placed it on the table.

  “You really don’t want Marvin to be charged, do you, hon?” Michael asked.

  “Quite frankly, I don’t want to find out that either one of them is a killer.” She shuddered. “I have no desire to know someone who would do that kind of awful thing. But of the two men, yes, I think Marvin is the least likely.” She took a sip of orange juice and added, “Although they sure seem to be trying to build a strong case against him.”

  ****

  An hour later, just as Savannah had finished dressing Teddy, her phone chimed. “Hi, Craig, I was going to call you.”

  “Why? What do you need?” he asked.

  “Well, I might have some interesting information you’ll want to check out.” When he didn’t respond, she said, “Mom happened to talk to someone about that twenty-four-hour gym out at the strip mall, and he told her that it would be easy to sign in when you arrive at night and sign out without anyone ever seeing you or realizing whether you were there or not.”

  “What?” Craig demanded. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Well, I think this blows Rich’s ironclad alibi to smithereens,” she insisted.

  “How’s that? Come on, Savannah, give it to me in simple terms. I don’t have time to play word games with a wordsmith.”

  She chuckled. “Okay, Craig. This guy Mom talked to, who goes to that gym, said there is someone on duty at night, but he’s pretty much absent. He hides out in his office a lot. If this is true, Rich could have signed in and left, then come back and signed out. Or, presumably, if he was the risk-taking type, he could have signed in and signed out at the same time, making it look like he was there for a couple of hours. I thought you might want to check out that theory.”

  “Did your cat have anything to do with that idea?” Craig asked.

  “No,” Savannah said.

  “Then I’m not sure I’m interested.”

  “Oh, Craig, I think it has merit. You should at least talk to the owners or some of the members. Heck, I’ll go out there some night if you don’t want to. I think it’s important.”

  “And I do, too,” Craig said, laughing. “I was just messing with you. How is your cat these days?”

  “Good,” Savannah said. She asked suspiciously, “Why?”

  “No reason. Can’t I inquire about my partner without a motive?”

  “Well…um…I guess so,” she stammered. “Hey, why did you call me? You called me, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said. “To check on your cat.”

  “Why? Oh no, Craig, you aren’t planning to…”

  “To what?” he asked.

  “To take him out to the crime scene or anything.”

  “No,” Craig said. “As a matter of fact, I called to tell you that I’m going out to that new gym tonight to check out Rich Lang’s alibi.”

  Savannah huffed. “So I did all that work to convince you for nothing?”

  “Yup. Gotta go. Thanks for the confirmation on that, by the way. It was useful.”

  ****

  Partway through the morning two days later, Michael called Savannah from the clinic. “Hi, hon,” she said. “How’s your morning going?”

  “Good. So far today I’ve seen some of the Cat Alliance members’ kitties, Nola was in with a new rescue, and there have been a number of dog patients—oh, and one horse, so far today. Actually, a pony. Lily would have loved this little guy.”

  Savannah smiled at the thought.

  “How’s your day shaping up?” he asked. Before she could respond, he said, “Oh, you’re going riding with Sandy and Moose this morning, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, she’ll be here in about half an hour,” Savannah said. “We’re going to ride out around her place. I don’t recall riding out there before.”

  “Near where the murder took place?” he asked.

  “Oh yeah, that Bodega Bar is just down the road from Sandy’s. Why?”

  “I wanted to pass along the latest in that ugly crime,” Michael said. “A client told me that they’ve arrested your friend.”

  “Rich?” Savannah asked.

  “No, the ex-husband. What’s his name? Marvin?”

  Really?” she asked, disbelieving. She shook her head. “I don’t think that’s right. There’s just something wrong there.”

  “But he’s the one who used to be married to her,” Michael said.

  “Used to be. You rarely hear of someone killing their ex-wife,” Savannah said, “unless there’s a big custody or property dispute.”

  Michael reminded her, “But you said he behaved a little oddly after he saw her there with Rich. Maybe he hated her enough to try getting away with a murder that someone else set up. I mean, he had a bunch of witnesses who would point a finger at Rich, not him.”

  “If it weren’t for the fur from his orange cat showing up at the murder scene, this probably wouldn’t have happened,” Savannah said. She stared into space. “There’s just something odd about this whole thing—especially the cat’s part in it.”

  “A cat they’re still trying to find,” Michael said.

  “Yes. Oh, hon, here comes Sandy. I’d better go. Thank you for telling me, although that sure isn’t what I wanted to hear. See you later.”

  “Yes. Have a good ride,” Michael said.

  “Hi,” Savannah called as she stepped out onto the porch.

  “Ready?” Sandy asked.

  “Sure am. I’ve brushed down my mare. Let me grab my saddle.”

  “Does she have any loading issues?” Sandy asked.

  “No,” Savannah said. “She usually does well.”

  Just then they heard Lily shout from the door, “Bye, Mommy! Bye, Peaches!”

  “Good bye, honeybun,” Savannah called. “Close the door now so Rags doesn’t get out.

  Oops,” she yelped when Peaches stumbled on her way into the horse trailer.

  “Is she okay?” Sandy asked. She chuckled. “She’s not used to a step-up, is she? Bonnie usually hauls her for you using her ramp trailer.”

  Savannah nodded. “That’s right. Maybe I should have her fitted for glasses.”

  Both women laughed.

  Once Peaches was loaded, Savannah said, “Oh, I want to get my water bottle. I think I left it in the car. She opened the back passenger door and rifled through some toys and children’s clothing, uncovering the stainless steel container. She shook it. “Good, it’s still full,” she said, closing the car door.

  “Hey,’ Sandy called, pointing. “Something fell out of there.”

  “What?” Savannah asked, looking on the ground behind her. When she saw the scrap from a red bandana, she picked it up and examined it.

  “What is it?” Sandy asked.

  “Probably trash,” she said, tossing it into her car. She stopped and glanced back, thinking, Or is it evidence? She shook her head and followed Sandy to her truck, complaining, “No matter how much of a neatnik you are, once you have children, it’s all over. Your car is full of garbage.”

  Sandy laughed as she closed the saddle compartment on the trailer and checked Peaches one more time before joining Savannah in the cab of her pickup.

  “Couldn’t you get Bonnie
to join us?” Savannah asked.

  “Not today. She has students. But we’ll check with her next time and maybe she’ll pencil us in.”

  “Sounds good. I miss her.”

  Sandy nodded. “Yeah, we’re all busy.”

  When they pulled into Sandy’s driveway, Savannah said, “You’ve been working around your place, haven’t you? It looks really nice.”

  “Thank you. It’s a lot of upkeep, but I’m enjoying it. See Moose’s new facility?”

  “Yes, there he is,” Savannah said. “That’s nice.”

  The women had exited the truck and backed Peaches out of the trailer, then Sandy opened the saddle compartment. She yelped and jumped back, almost stumbling over a log.

  “What’s going on?” Savannah asked. When she followed Sandy’s gaze, she slumped. “Oh no. I can’t believe it. How did this happen?”

  “I don’t know,” Sandy said, laughing, “but he sure startled the heck out of me.”

  “Rags,” Savannah groaned, “you little sneak. Darn it, anyway.” She glanced around. “Now what?” She scratched her head and stared down at the cat, saying to Sandy, “You know I could have Michael come and get him, but I just talked to him and he’s having a busy morning.” “Want me to drive him back home?” Sandy suggested.

  “Well, let’s see if we can figure out something else.” Savannah looked at her. “Can we leave him in your house?”

  Sandy winced. “Probably not a good idea. I have a rescue in there who hasn’t seen the veterinarian yet. I don’t want to chance your cat catching something.”

  “Yeah, thanks for that. Is he sick?” Savannah asked.

  “He seems okay, but you can never be sure until you get that okay from the vet.”

  Savannah nodded and let out an exasperated sigh, finally saying, “You probably have a piece of rope I could use to make a harness and leash for him.”

  “You want him to walk along with us?” Sandy asked.

  Savannah laughed. “No. He can ride with me. Maybe on a blanket across the saddle or…

  “I have a cat backpack, would that work?” Sandy asked.

  Surprised, Savannah said, “Yes, where did you get that? I didn’t know you were that much into cats.”