A Purrfectly Perilous Plot
Page 15
Carol took a breath and aimed the gun at Buzz. “I think I’ll be safer if I leave here alone. I’m just hours away from being free, and I sure don’t need you messing that up for me. Goodbye Buzz. It’s been…”
“Hold it!” the sergeant said from behind Carol, his gun drawn. Carol continued to hold her gun on Buzz.
“I have nothing to lose,” she said. “This is my only chance. Drop your gun or I shoot. I want to hear it drop. Drop it!” she demanded.
Buzz took a few steps forward. “Give me the gun, Carol. Officers, I don’t think she’ll hurt anyone. Give me the gun, Carol.”
“Stay where you are!” she shouted.
Craig said to Buzz. “Do as she says. Let her go. She deserves it. She’s worked hard for it.” Out of the corner of his eye, Craig saw Rags moving closer to Carol. Craig knew he had to keep distracting the woman until just the right moment, which came sooner than he’d expected. Rags appeared from behind a curtain and bumped hard into Carol’s legs, startling her and knocking her off balance, giving Craig the opportunity to grab her pistol and secure her.
The sergeant moved forward and cuffed her, and she broke down into a heap on the stage floor.
“Why, Carol?” Buzz asked. “Why?”
“I told you!” she screamed.
Buzz said more quietly, “But you also told me you loved me.”
“I did,” Carol insisted, “until you refused to go away with me. We could have started fresh.”
Buzz simply slumped and shook his head slowly.
As Carol was led away, she shouted, “I’m sorry! I wasn’t really going to take the money. Honest. I was going to give it back. I just wanted to show you how easy it would be. I wanted to demonstrate that we need greater security here, that’s all, Buzz. Buzz, you believe me, don’t you?”
It took several moments before Buzz regained his composure. He picked up Rags and held him. “Mr. Cat, you’re a hero. How in the world…” He chuckled. “He doesn’t follow stage direction very well, but he seems to be savvy.” He looked at Craig. “Or was that a fluke, him saving my life like that?”
“Not even,” Craig said. He ruffled the fur on Rags’s head. “That’s my partner. He knows exactly what he’s doing.”
Buzz laughed. “So the most disruptive, disagreeable cast member turns out to be a big-time hero.”
“That’s about the size of it,” Craig said, laughing.
****
“So did the others go back?” Suzette asked the following day over breakfast.
Savannah nodded. “Yes, they left early this morning. Craig and Iris need to get back to work and Auntie has work to do, too.
Suzette patted Gladys’s hand affectionately. “Glad you could stay.”
Gladys smiled. “Me, too. Your place is just lovely.” She glanced around. “I love this enclosed patio area—so private and pretty with the willow trees and those flowering shrubs.”
“Yes, it’s the new thing in decorating. They call it an outdoor room. We love it—well, on a nice day.”
“Pearl,” Savannah said, “it looks like you’re doing well. I’ll bet you’re enjoying Alana.”
“Oh my, yes. She’s wonderful,” the older woman said. “She’s the great-granddaughter I never thought I’d have.” Pearl leaned closer to Savannah. “You know, even though I’m Arthur’s stepgrandmother, I’ve always loved him as my own.”
Arthur smiled at the woman and said, “Ruthie and Rupert are coming to meet Alana next week.”
“How does Alana Ruth like having so many adoring admirers?” Gladys asked.
“She seems to take it in her stride,” he said.
When there was a lull in the conversation, Michael asked, “So, Arthur, has Carol been charged?”
Arthur shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. Catherine said she may have been dipping into the till at the shelter, too. She came highly recommended, so we can’t figure out what went wrong. Something must have snapped with her.”
“Arthur, you’re so kindhearted,” Savannah said. “Always thinking the best of people.”
“Why be any other way?” Arthur asked.
“To protect yourself,” Michael said. When the others looked at him, he explained, “I believe we have to be at least somewhat skeptical. Gullible sure doesn’t get anyone anywhere. Know what I mean?”
“I guess so,” Arthur said, “but I don’t think I trust too much.” He looked at Suzette. “Do I?”
She chuckled and said to the others, “Actually, Arthur was kind of a doubting Thomas when we were interviewing Grace to help with Alana.”
“Well, hey,” he defended, “we’re talking about a precious, innocent baby here—our baby for whom we’re totally responsible. We can’t take any chances.”
Michael laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Yes, in life we have to know when to use our scrutiny to its limit and when to welcome someone or an opportunity with open arms.”
Savannah gazed across the yard at Rags and Koko. “So the cats can’t escape from this area? Koko doesn’t climb that wall?”
“So far, no.” Arthur chuckled. “Maybe she just doesn’t care what’s on the other side.”
“We had it built thinking it would be a perfect outdoor playpen for Alana and Koko,” Suzette said.
Savannah asked, “What does Koko think of Alana?”
“She’s a little confused and a little scared of her, I think,” Arthur said.
“Scared?” Gladys asked.
“Yes, our daughter can be loud when she cries. She makes funny noises and that interests Koko, but she isn’t sure she wants to get too close to the grunting, squealing baby.” Arthur pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. “It’s Buzz. I’d better take the call.”
When Arthur returned, he announced, “She’s been booked. The evidence was strong. She wasn’t very savvy. They think they’ve recovered almost all the money and checks, but we also have a lot of backup information, so it will be fairly easy to follow her paper trail—you know, envelopes with return addresses and things like that.”
“How’s Buzz?” Savannah asked gently.
“Oh, he’ll survive. Just give him another play to direct, and he’ll snap out of this when the next pretty girl turns his head.”
The others laughed.
Arthur asked, “Hey, Savannah, want to go for a ride?”
“On your horses?” she asked.
“No, on the hood of the car,” he joked. “Of course, on the horses. Michael, you can join us if you want to. We have enough horses for you, too, Gladys.”
“Oh no,” she protested. “Not me. I’d rather wait here for my turn holding your baby daughter.”
“Yeah, thanks for the invite, Arthur,” Michael said, “but I think I’ll take the kids down to the beach for a while.”
Gladys piped up. “Oh, that sounds like fun. Need help?”
Michael smiled at his mother-in-law. “Probably.”
Gladys asked, “Pearl, would you like to come with us?”
“How lovely,” Suzette said, putting her hand on Pearl’s arm. “You love the beach. Why don’t you go?”
“You won’t need my help this afternoon?” Pearl asked.
Suzette shook her head. “I’d actually enjoy some down time with Alana.”
Pearl smiled. “Sounds like everyone will get a little of what they love this afternoon.”
Chapter Seven
Later that day as they started to head out to the stables, Arthur grinned at Savannah and asked, “Want to take the cats?”
Caught off guard, she stammered, “Oh…um…well, I don’t know.”
“I think Suzette and Alana will rest easier without the tornado and Mr. Thunder-Paws tearing around the house, and they both ride nicely on a horse. Did you bring Rags’s pack?”
“Actually, I did. I’ve learned to take it along with his leash no matter where we’re going—most of the time, anyway.” She petted Rags as he walked past. “I guess we could take them. Th
ey’ve been cooped up here a lot.” She grinned and added, “Not that that’s a bad thing. You’re home is beautiful and spacious.”
“Not like my mother’s place, right?” Arthur said.
Savannah shuddered. “No. That place was evil and creepy. The night it burned to the ground was a blessing for many still living and those who…”
“I know,” Arthur said. “There might have been a lot of spirits still hanging around there and eager to move on.”
She shook her head. “Let’s don’t go there.” She brightened. “Hey, I brought my camera. Is there anything of interest to shoot out on the trail?”
He thought for a moment. “Could be. Yeah, let’s take the cameras. I’ll go get mine, then I’ll introduce you to your ride. I think you’ll like her. She’s Suzette’s favorite, and Suzette is a novice rider, so you know she’s a sweetheart.”
Suzette nodded. “Sophie is a dream. You’ll love her.”
“You don’t mind if I ride her?”
“Heavens no,” Suzette insisted. “I haven’t been able to take her out in a while, as you know, so she’ll probably appreciate a nice trail ride with a nice person.”
“Does she like cats?” Savannah asked.
“She seems to,” Suzette said. “She’s not overly friendly with Koko or anything, but she isn’t bothered by her, either.”
“Okay, thanks,” Savannah called as she followed Arthur and Koko out toward the stables with Rags.
****
The couple and the cats had been riding for about an hour—Savannah on Suzette’s bay mare, Sophie, and Arthur on his favorite steed, Charger.
“How’re you doing?” he asked.
Savannah smiled. “Good. Suzette’s right; Sophie is a sweetheart. Where did you find her?”
“Same place I found Charger and Lady and Ranger—at a broken-down ranch with a broken-down couple who could no longer care for their animals. It was a rescue facilitated by the local humane society.”
“Were the horses in bad shape?” Savannah asked.
“Not too bad. The couple knew what they were doing, they just could no longer do it, and they knew that, too. I think they’re the ones who called and asked for help. They surrendered their animals—these four horses, a batch of laying hens, the sweetest little pigmy goat, and some barn cats. They kept one housecat named Esmeralda.”
“Good,” Savannah said. “Sounds like kind and reasonable people who loved their animals.”
“Yes. They wanted what was best for them. We took all the animals away at one time and it was a sad good-bye for the couple. They both just sat there on the porch swing, hugging Esmeralda.” Arthur chuckled. “I still ride by there sometimes so they can see their horses. Old Tom usually has some advice for me.” In a fake voice, Arthur said, “‘Better put some meat on those flanks, son.’ Or ‘The chinstrap’s a tad tight, ain’t it?’”
Savannah laughed. “So old Tom hasn’t let go, has he?”
“Not completely, no.” He faced her. “Hey, want to meet him?” He spoke more solemnly, “His wife, Maybelle, died last year, not too long after the rescue, actually. I should stop in. It’s been a while, and I’m sure he’s lonely.”
“Yeah, I’d like to meet him.” She grinned. “…and Esmeralda.”
The riders stopped at the ranch half an hour later, tied their horses to a hitching rail, and walked around the property looking for old Tom. When no one responded to his shouts, Arthur found an open door, and he walked through the house. “I guess he must have gone to church with a friend or something,” he announced upon returning.
“Is that Esmeralda?” Savannah asked, pointing.
“Yes. Hi, girl,” Arthur said to the cat, kneeling and waiting for her to reach him. “Gosh, she must be near twenty by now. She has really slowed down.”
Savannah kneeled and petted the fluffy cat. She winced. “Oh, she has mats.”
“Not surprising,” Arthur said.
“Yeah, I imagine her grooming routine leaves a lot to be desired at this age. Poor thing.” She looked around. “Wish I had a pair of scissors or a razor.”
Arthur chuckled. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Maybe I’ll make a special stop here soon and see if I can help her with those mats. That’s got to hurt.”
“Yes they do,” Savannah said. “You don’t have to deal with mats in Koko’s smooth Siamese fur.” She ran her hand over Rags, who was on his leash. “He doesn’t get mats, either, but Buffy does if I don’t keep her combed out. I had to cut one recently.” Suddenly Savannah toppled over and yelped, “Rags!”
“Oops,” Arthur said, reaching out a hand to help her up. “What happened?”
“He yanked on the leash when I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. Typical Rags.”
Arthur stared down at Rags. “He wants to follow Esmeralda. See, she’s heading back to the barn where she came from. I wonder if she’s sleeping out there now.”
Savannah tugged on the leash. “Come on, Rags,” she urged. When Koko joined him in his quest to follow Esmeralda, she complained, “Well, you’re not helping, there, girl.” She laughed. “Neither one of you girls. Are you two trying to lead my boy astray?”
Arthur laughed as well.
Savannah shook her head. “I can’t believe how well Koko behaves off-leash. She’s not running around crazy-like and she’s a Siamese—not typically the most accommodating breed.”
“Let him go,” Arthur suggested. “He’ll stay with Koko and Esmeralda.” He smiled when she dropped the leash and took a deep breath. “What is Rags again?” he asked. “I mean his breeding.”
“Half Ragdoll—you know, the cat that’s supposed to be super friendly,”
“That he is,” Arthur said.
“Calm and relaxed,” she continued.
“Well, he doesn’t appear to be a nervous Nelly,” Arthur said.
“And the Ragdoll is supposed to be cooperative and compliant,” Savannah explained.
Arthur frowned. “Oh. Well, I guess he got more of the sire’s genes than anyone thought. Do you know what sort of fellow he was?”
She shook her head. “No, but I can guess he was a wild African tiger,” she quipped, trotting after the three cats as they continued to walk toward the barn.
The cats beat her there, and Esmeralda snaked her way through the partially open door with Koko and Rags following. Savannah grabbed the end of Rags’s leash.
“Git!” came a gruff voice from somewhere in the shadows.
“Hello,” Savannah called, stepping just inside the door. “Hello.”
“Oh, hell,” the voice said. “Are you an angel already here to welcome me home? What if I change my mind? And what’s with all the cats?” he demanded. “Esmeralda, where’d these misfit cats come from, anyhow?”
“Are you Tom?” Savannah asked.
“Good golly, you know me. You must be one of God’s angels. Okay, I guess I’m on my way. I give up. Take me.” The man stepped out of the shadows and faced Savannah, saying, “You will take me to Maybelle, won’t you? I’m not going no other place from her, am I?”
“No, no,” Savannah said. “I’m not an angel. I’m a friend of Arthur’s. You know Arthur. He’s with me. We stopped here so I could meet you. I’m riding one of your horses today. Do you remember Sophie? I’m riding Sophie.”
“Good golly you talk a lot for an angel,” the old man said, moving closer. “Ain’t got your wings yet, huh?” His voice softened when he said, “Hey, can you tell me how Maybelle is? She’s not sitting around up there waiting for me and Esmeralda, is she? Cause if she is, I guess I can arrange to make my trip with you sooner rather than later.”
“Tom,” Arthur said when he walked into the barn. “Tom, what are you doing in here in the dark?”
“Talking to this here angel. She ain’t got her wings yet, as you can see, but I believe she was sent to take me home.”
“What do you mean, Tom? You still have many years left with Esmeralda and the chickens.”
“Oh yes, Thelma and Louise. They’re still laying, you know. I guess I shouldn’t abandon them,” Tom said.
Arthur took a few more steps into the barn and saw a table set up against the back wall. Concerned, he opened the large barn door to let in more light, winced, and asked, “Tom, what’s all this, now? It looks like you’re setting up a pharmacy out here.” He added, “And a brewery. Look at all this booze.”
Tom looked sheepish. “Well, I want to see Maybelle. I get messages from her every night, so I think she wants to see me, too.”
“She visits you at night?” Savannah asked. “That must be comforting. She must love you and miss you very much.”
“But that doesn’t mean she wants you to end your life so you can be with her,” Arthur said.
“How do you know that?” Tom grumped. When he felt Rags rub against his leg, he asked, “What are these cats doing here? Where’d they come from?”
Arthur chuckled. He picked up Koko. “This is my cat, Koko.” He pointed. “That’s Savannah’s cat, Rags. They followed Esmeralda in here. I imagine she led them in because she wanted to save you from doing something stupid.”
Tom stooped and petted Esmeralda. “She went and ratted on me?”
“I guess she did,” Arthur said. “It’s because she loves you, and she knows you’re meant to stay here with her until God, himself, reaches down and carries you home.”
Tom remained quiet for a moment, then pointed at Savannah. “She’s not an angel? She sure looked like an angel coming through that door.”
“No,” Arthur said. “This is my friend, Savannah. Rags is her cat. We rode over here this afternoon to let you visit with Sophie and Charger.”
“Sophie’s here?” he asked, a faraway look in his eyes. He walked toward the barn door. “And Charger?” He stopped and said in a scolding manner, “You’d better be taking good care of them, young man. Have you cut down a little on their grain? You know they shouldn’t get all that grain when they aren’t working so much as they did around here, plowing and all.” He stepped out into the daylight and squinted in the direction of the horses, saying, “Oh, I guess it weren’t these horses that pulled the plow. That was another time and place, wasn’t it? No, these horses was offspring of our kids’ mares. They’re the last young-uns I ever raised. No more breeding around here—not at our age.” He glanced at the house and said, “I mean, my age. Maybelle’s done lived to her dying age. I guess mine ain’t here yet.”