A Purrfectly Perilous Plot

by Patricia Fry

  “I had a very special cat that traveled with me for a couple of years,” Sandy said. “I bought the pack for him because we did a lot of hiking.”

  Savannah smiled. “No kidding. Yes, I could use that. Rags is used to riding in a pack. That would be great, thank you.”

  When Sandy returned, she admired the rope harness Savannah had made for Rags. “Where did you learn to do that?”

  Savannah winked. “When you have a cat like Rags, you gotta do what you gotta do. With this guy you really have to stay one step ahead, just for situations like this.”

  “Good job,” Sandy said.

  “Now what, Rags?” Savannah complained when he began tugging against the makeshift leash. Savannah looked in the direction Rags was pulling and smiled. “It’s Moose. He sees Moose over there.” She spoke to the cat, “Okay, buddy, let’s go say hi to your friend. Then we’ll all go for a ride.”

  Both women laughed at Moose’s reactions to seeing Rags. The big gelding snorted and pawed the ground as they approached with the cat. When they drew nearer, Moose raised his head dramatically, his mane blowing in the breeze. Rags stopped, sat down, and watched the horse’s antics until Moose lowered his head. He nickered softly and Rags moved forward and rubbed against the horse’s face.

  “What a cool shot,” Sandy said, snapping a picture with her phone.

  “Send me that one,” Savannah said, laughing. “That’s really cute.”

  When Rags hopped up onto the fence railing, Moose nickered again. “They sure remember each other, don’t they?” Sandy said. “Their relationship is a puzzle to me—a cat and a giant horse. Now these are some unlikely friends.”

  Savannah agreed. “Just look at them. Pretty sweet.” She said thoughtfully, “There’s a lot we can learn from animals.” She lifted Rags off the top rail of Moose’s corral. “Okay, you’re going riding with Moose. You’ll get to see him all day. You come with me now and be a good boy while we saddle the horses.”

  Rags wasn’t ready to leave his friend, though, and he squirmed in Savannah’s arms.

  “Rags, stop it,” she scolded. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Can you just turn him loose? Sandy suggested. “I don’t think he’s going anywhere, do you?”

  Savannah looked around. “You’re probably right. He only has eyes for Moose.” She lifted the cat back up onto the fence and removed the harness.

  “Shouldn’t you leave that on him?” Sandy asked. “Won’t he be harder to catch without it?”

  “Probably, but I don’t want him to hang himself with that rope. Yeah, I’d better leave it off and hope for the best. Like you said, he’ll probably stay close to Moose.”

  In fact, the women had a little trouble getting the horses ready for their ride because Rags was so interested in every aspect of the process. Savannah got a picture of Rags stretched out on Moose’s saddle blanket as Sandy attempted to lift her saddle onto the horse. They laughed hysterically when Moose reached around and pulled the blanket off, causing Rags to leap onto the nearest fence post.

  “Where’d Moose learn that trick?” Savannah asked, still laughing.

  “I don’t know. He’s quite the jokester. He does that every once in a while. I have to put the saddle in place quickly or, like you just saw, he’ll pull the blanket off before I can saddle him.”

  Once the horses were saddled and Rags was tucked comfortably into the cat backpack, the riders picked up their cameras and prepared to mount their horses.

  “Your camera’s similar to mine,” Sandy noticed. “I’ve been wanting to upgrade, but I’m not using it much lately, so I can’t justify spending the money.”

  “I did upgrade, but find myself remaining in my comfort zone with this camera and lens. It’s really perfect for the close-up photography I enjoy with birds, deer, and so forth, not to mention beautiful scenic shots. And it’s lightweight compared to some.”

  “Well, let’s head for the hills and see what amazing shots we can get today,” Sandy said, leading the way on Moose. They’d been on the trail for a short time when Sandy said, “Rags looks at home in the pack.”

  Savannah nodded. “Yeah, he likes this mode of travel. He also likes to ride on the saddle in front of me. I can use that blanket you put in the pack for him if he wants to change position and scenery.” She pointed. “Look at the color in that tree.” She picked up her camera and took a couple of shots.

  “Beautiful,” Sandy said, also taking a picture. She spoke more softly. “Did you see that?”

  “What?” Savannah asked.

  “To the left. Is that a buck?”

  “Gosh, so close to your house,” Savannah said, taking more pictures. “He’s majestic.”

  “Yes, I’ve seen him before.” Sandy looked at Savannah. “He has a girlfriend, you know.”

  “Probably his wife,” Savannah said. “They could be expecting a fawn soon.” She looked around. “Or they already have one hiding out someplace.”

  Sandy smiled.

  The women had been on the trail for nearly half an hour, stopping a couple of times to capture the image of a quail and an overweight cottontail, when Savannah said, “Just down the way there is where that awful murder took place.”

  “Yeah,” Sandy said, shivering. “I’m glad they caught that guy and that it was personal and not random.”

  Savannah faced Sandy. “You know, I was out here with people from my writers group Saturday night enacting a murder just like the one that took place for real.”

  “Really?” Sandy said, wide-eyed. “How’s that?”

  “A member of the group is writing a novel and he wanted us to help him create a believable murder scene. The weirdest, most bizarre thing is that what actually happened replicated his scenario almost to the last detail. And they arrested another member of our writers group.”

  “No kidding,” Sandy said. “Who? Anyone I might know?”

  “Marvin Stanley.”

  Sandy gasped. “The chiropractor? I can’t believe that.”

  “Frankly, neither can I,” Savannah agreed.

  “Who was the one who set up the murder scenario in the first place?” Sandy asked.

  “A guy named Rich Lang,” Savannah said. “He planned to use Marvin’s ex-wife as his victim that night, but she ran off back to the bar.” She faced Sandy. “She’s the one who was killed.”

  “So do you think Mr. Lang had it in for Dr. Stanley and he actually did it thinking Dr. Stanley would be blamed? Or did Dr. Stanley do it thinking Mr. Lang would be blamed?” Sandy shivered. “Sheesh, either scheme is spine-chilling—especially since it’s so close to my home.”

  After a moment, Savannah pointed. “Looks like the police are finished out here. The barricade tape’s been removed.” She grinned. “Want to go snoop around? Rags is probably ready for a break.” They rode onto the abandoned property just as Savannah’s phone chimed. She looked at the screen. “It’s Craig Sledge—you know, our detective friend. I’m sorry, I’d better take it.”

  “No problem,” Sandy said, sliding off her horse. She patted him and led him to a post in front of the building where she tied him. She saw that Savannah had dismounted and she helped her remove Rags’s pack, lifted him out, and held onto the rope leash while he sniffed around the area.

  “We’re out here now,” Savannah said into the phone. “Looks like you’ve finished your investigation.”

  “What are you doing out there, Savannah?” he asked gruffly.

  “Just riding with my friend, Sandy.” She chuckled. “Rags is with us.”

  “You take your cat horseback riding?” he bellowed.

  “Sometimes, but this time it wasn’t on purpose.”

  Craig laughed. “So he bamboozled you again, did he?” His tone changed. “Hey, speaking of cats, can you spread the word among your cat friends that we’re looking for a tangerine-colored cat? We still haven’t determined whether someone took it or if it escaped. It’s possible that someone let it out on purpose.�
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  “You’re still looking for Marvin’s missing cat?” Savannah asked. “I can contact my aunt and also Nola out at the cat ranch, and some of the others I know who take in abandoned or lost cats. Why do you want that cat?” She chuckled, “Is he under arrest?”

  “No,” Craig assured her, “but we—at least I—still think he could be a missing link in our investigation.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “it’ll be interesting to find out how his disappearance fits into the scheme of things.”

  “Hey,” Craig said, “I’d like to talk more, but I’ll let you get back to your ride. I’ll check in with you later.”

  After ending the call with Craig, Savannah tied Peaches near Moose and joined Sandy and Rags. “Thanks for taking him. I’m sure he was ready to stretch his legs.”

  Sandy nodded and looked down at the cat. “Now what, Rags?”

  “What’s he doing? Here let me take him,” Savannah offered. “He can be a handful.”

  “Like a small child,” Sandy observed. “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Wait, what’s that he’s digging at?” Savannah asked, moving closer. “Oh my gosh,” she said, picking up the cat and leaning over to look more closely at the ground. She glanced up at Sandy. “It’s a red bandana.”

  Sandy wrinkled her nose. “Looks old and icky. You aren’t going to touch it are you?”

  Wide-eyed, Savannah said, “No, because it could be evidence. I’d better call Craig back.” She turned away from where the bandana lay and lowered Rags to the ground. As she eased her phone out of her pocket and attempted to get a grip on the rope, however, Rags darted away. “Rags!” she called just as Craig answered. “Oh, hi,” she said, running after the cat.

  Sandy followed, soon announcing, “He went into the building.”

  “What is it, Savannah?” Craig asked. “Did you pocket-dial me?”

  “No, Craig,” she said, out of breath. “We—I mean, Rags—found something. I wanted to let you know.”

  “What, for Pete’s sake,” he snarled.

  “It’s a piece of a red bandana—actually, almost the whole bandana. Rags found what I think is the other piece of it Saturday night. It’s in my car at home. Didn’t I tell you about Rich catching the bandana on the barbed wire and Rags snagging the piece that ripped off of it?”

  “No. So why are you sharing these uninteresting details with me?” he asked.

  “Because Craig, Rich, the man who’s writing the novel about a murder, and…”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know who you’re talking about.”

  “Well, Saturday night he had a red bandana,” Savannah said. “He used it to wipe pretend blood from his knife and he put it in his pocket. When he went over the fence, it caught on the barbs and a piece tore off. Rags took that piece, and he actually carried it into my car. I just saw it in there a little while ago. Anyway, this swatch he just found looks like it’s the rest of the bandana—the whole bandana except for that one little missing piece.”

  “So?” Craig asked after a long pause.

  “So, it shows that Rich came back to this spot after we all left Saturday night.”

  “And this is important because?” Craig asked.

  “Because it proves he was the killer, not Marvin,” Savannah insisted.

  “Why would he want to kill Marvin’s ex-wife?” Craig asked.

  “I don’t know, but she’s the one he brought up to the murder site; she’s the one he was going to use as a pretend victim, until she stumbled off down the hill back to the bar.” She sighed. “Craig, he had the bandana when he left Saturday night, I’m sure of it.”

  “Maybe he forgot something at the scene and came back to get it,” Craig said. “He might have dropped the bandana then.” When Savannah started to protest, he said, “Hey, I’m playing devil’s advocate here. It’s possible. You finding it…”

  “It wasn’t me, it was Rags. Rags found it!” she insisted.

  “Well, that does give a little more credibility to the theory, since my feline partner’s the one who found it, but, Savannah…”

  “Okay. No problem. I just wanted to let you know about it. We have it if you want it. I have to go. We’re chasing the cat through the old building. I need to catch up to him and get out of here.”

  Craig chuckled. “That cat!” He then said, “Listen, are you going to be there for a few minutes? I’d like you to show me that bandana.”

  Savannah thought for a moment. “Yeah, I can wait for a few minutes, or I can meet you here later. Right now, I need to find my cat.”

  “I’m on my way,” Craig said. “Stay put.”

  “I’m sorry, Sandy,” Savannah said when she caught up to her inside the old building. “Craig wants to meet me here to take a look at that bandana Rags found. It could be evidence.”

  “No problem.”

  “Listen, if you want to take Moose and go on ahead, I’ll understand,” Savannah said.

  “No,” Sandy protested. “Really, I want to help you find your cat, and I’m curious about that possible evidence.”

  “Okay. So which way did he go?” Savannah asked. “Do you know?”

  “No,” Sandy said. “I lost sight of him in the hallway.” She looked around. “This is a big building.”

  “It sure is,” Savannah agreed, “and stinky. Rags!” she called.

  “There he is!” Sandy said as they turned down a long corridor on the second floor. “What in the heck is he doing?”

  “Well, that’s odd,” Savannah said when she caught sight of him. “That seems to be the only room with a closed door and he’s trying to dig it open.” She called out, “What are you doing, Rags? Come here. Let’s get out of this dank building. Come on,” she coaxed, walking toward him. But when she reached for him, he slipped from her grasp and darted away, only to return to the closed door.

  “He wants to go inside,” Sandy said.

  Savannah chuckled. “Yeah, you know cats and closed doors—they can’t resist them.”

  “Is that right?” Sandy said. “I’m still learning about cats.” She giggled. “The one I had when I was younger—you know, the one I traveled with—I guess he was a one-of-a-kind cat, from what I’ve experienced and heard since then. I should never have given him away. I could have probably made a fortune with him on YouTube by now.”

  Savannah laughed. “No kidding?” She reached for Rags again. “Come on, boy.”

  This time he slipped from her hands and began meowing at the door. He’d meow at her, and again look at the door.

  “Rags,” she scolded, “you are such a bad boy.”

  “There you are,” came a voice from behind them.

  “Oh, Craig, you startled me!” Savannah said.

  “I told you I’d meet you out here,” Craig grumped. “Who did you expect?” He pointed at Rags. “What does he want? What’s he doing?”

  “I don’t know,” Savannah huffed. “He wants to see what’s in that room, I guess.”

  “Is it locked?” Craig asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You haven’t tried it?”

  Savannah recoiled. “No.”

  “Well,” Craig said impatiently, walking to the door and turning the knob. He had to push the door with his shoulder, but it opened.

  Savannah took one look and gasped.

  “Well, I’ll be…” Craig muttered.

  “Where did he come from?” Sandy asked, seeing the orange tabby cat sitting just inside the open door.

  “Good question,” Craig said, “but I think I know the answer.”

  “Is that…” Savannah started

  “The missing tangerine cat,” Craig said. “Yes, I imagine that’s him, but why? How?”

  “I want to know why we couldn’t hear him crying,” Sandy said. “He sounds loud enough now.”

  “Good question,” Savannah agreed. “It seems that Rags heard him, but I sure didn’t, and I have pretty good hearing myself.”

  “Look around, girls,
” Craig said. “This is a sound studio. It’s completely soundproof. There’s no way any of us or Rags could have heard that cat when the door was closed.”

  Savannah picked up Rags and snuggled with him. “So you just somehow sensed he was in there? You saved his life. Good boy,” she cooed.

  “Make up your mind,” Craig carped. “Is he a good boy or a bad boy?”

  “It depends,” Savannah said, grinning. “Today it’s a little bit of both.”

  “Will one of you girls carry this cat out to my car while I make a call?” Craig asked.

  “Sure,” Sandy said. “Come here, kitty. Do you know his name?”

  Craig took a picture of the cat, then scrolled on his phone and said, “Pumpkin.” He spoke to the cat. “Pumpkin, is that your name?” He looked at Savannah. “I sent his picture to the office and I’ll have the suspect ID the cat. Then…” he sighed deeply.

  “Then what?” Savannah asked, still cradling Rags in her arms.

  “Then I may have to ask for the release of Mr. Stanley and entertain the idea of arresting Mr. Lang.” He looked at Savannah. “I’d like you to come down to the station and fill out a report. I may have some additional questions for you. I’d also like the names of the others who were here Saturday night.”

  “I gave those to you,” Savannah said.

  “I guess I didn’t write them down.” Craig chuckled. “Mr. Stanley gave us quite a story.” He tilted his head. “Matter of fact, it was pretty close to the story you told me about what you witnessed out here Saturday night.”

  “Well, what happened here that night seems to have been a blatant rehearsal for what actually happened,” Savannah said, “but I don’t know the connection between Rich and Marvin or Marvin’s ex-wife.”

  “That’s okay. I think I have that picture—at least part of it. I should be able to get the rest of it from Mr. Lang, if he feels inclined to talk.” He nodded toward Savannah. “Now show me whatever it is that Rags found and then you gals can be on your way.”

  “Sure,” Savannah said, leading Craig out of the building to the spot where Rags had discovered the bandana.

  Meanwhile, Sandy settled Pumpkin in the backseat of Craig’s car with a supply of water. She watched as he drank his fill. When Craig joined her, she said, “I hope you don’t mind; I poured out your coffee and tore the top off the cup so I could make a bowl for the cat. He was thirsty.”