Whiskerful Thinking

by Patricia Fry

  Whiskerful Thinking

  A Klepto Cat Mystery

  Book 43

  by Patricia Fry

  Whiskerful Thinking: A Klepto Cat Mystery

  Book 43

  Author: Patricia Fry

  ISBN: 978-1-7348751-3-3

  All rights reserved

  © 2020 Matilija Press

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter One

  "What the heck?" Michael mumbled, awakened by the sound of a scuffle outside their tent. He shimmied out of his sleeping bag, pulled on a pair of jeans, and slipped out into the night. "What's going on?" he hissed upon seeing his brother holding a man in a headlock.

  "I caught this creep rifling through our stuff," Keith snarled. More excitedly, he hissed, "Help me tie him to this chair. Grab Cassie's jump rope, there."

  "No need for that," the intruder complained as the brothers tied his hands behind his back and secured the rope to the chair. "I didn't take anything. Just let me go on my way."

  "Not a chance," Keith said, double-checking the knots. "You just stay put while we decide what to do with you."

  "Call 911," Michael said when Savannah joined them. He frowned. "What are you bringing the cat out for?"

  "He was restless," she said, taking in the scene before her.

  Michael glanced at Rags, who was walking around at the end of his leash, then said again, "Savannah, call 911. Tell them have a prowler."

  "I'm no prowler," the man said. "Just let me explain, will you?" he pleaded, trying to break away from the chair.

  "Explain what, Freddie? You were inside our tent for cripes sake!"

  "Yeah," Michael growled, "what in the heck were you doing?"

  Freddie huffed nervously. "It isn't like you think." He smiled down at Rags and murmured, "Hi, kitty-cat."

  Rags emitted a purrrt sound, walked to the end of his ten foot leash, and rubbed against Freddie's legs.

  "Get your cat," Michael said, after Savannah had finished the call.

  That's odd, she thought, watching Rags interact with the intruder. Why is Rags cozying up to Freddie like that when he's obviously the one who's been sneaking around the camp stealing from us? It doesn't make sense given what I know about Rags. But then there's a lot that doesn't make sense lately. She took a deep breath and thought back to a time when she felt more secure and less vulnerable.

  ****

  The Ivey family had returned home Sunday afternoon from Oregon with new memories and interesting stories to tell. Savannah's mother, Gladys, had flown in the day before after visiting her friend Karl in Arizona.

  "Anyone hungry?" Gladys asked once the family had unpacked the car and begun to settle in.

  "Yes," Savannah said, "and I'm sure the children are. Did you fix something?"

  Gladys nodded. "Rice pilaf with chicken and a vegetable salad."

  "Sounds nice, Mom. Thank you. So how was your trip? Did you have a good time?"

  "Yes, it was okay. Now I know where Karl lives when he isn't staying here in his parents' home. I got to spend a little time with his daughter, Jilly, and the kids, but…" Gladys looked at Savannah. "I was a little disappointed."

  "Why, Mom?"

  "I'm not sure. I guess I felt a like…well, kind of like an outsider."

  "That's too bad," Savannah said. "I'm sorry."

  "Oh, I'm okay," Gladys assured her. "Our relationship, if you'd call it that, was bound to change with all that has happened—you know, Karl's incarceration, learning about his twisted relationship with his son, and all. You can't experience serious life changes without the trickle-down effect. When one or two things change, often everything changes."

  "Is that one of Murphy's laws?" Michael asked, joining the women with two-year-old Teddy in his arms.

  "Could be, I guess," Gladys said. When Teddy reached for her, she opened her arms and took him. "Awww, how sweet is this? Come to Grammy, precious boy." She snuggled with the toddler for a moment then asked, "How was your trip?"

  Savannah glanced at Michael. "We had a good time. I'm so glad Pam and Jeannie were no longer at odds when we got there. I guess it was pure stress that was causing their conflict." She giggled a little. "Oh, Mom, you should have seen their house." She picked up her phone. "I have pictures."

  "It's a fairy house," Lily chirped.

  "Yes, like from a fairytale, huh, punkin?" Savannah agreed. "It's exceedingly ornate." She held up her phone for Gladys to see.

  "Oh my," Gladys said. "That is a bit over the top."

  "And the photos don't quite capture its…um…uniqueness." Savannah laughed. "Pam's and Jeannie's mother must have been a real character. But yeah, we had a good time," she cringed, "aside from a few harrowing moments." When Rags rubbed against her legs, she said, "Huh, Rags? All in all, it was a successful trip." She turned to Michael. "You had a good time, didn't you,

  "Sure did," he said. "It's always a good trip when I'm with my favorite people."

  Savannah smiled at him.

  Gladys looked down at Rags. "So how did he behave?"

  "Quite remarkably, actually," Savannah said. "As usual, he was large and in charge, but in an obedient way."

  Michael lowered his brow and challenged, "Obedient?"

  Gladys grinned at him, then asked, "Did they find the painting—the one that seemed to have everyone out of sorts?"

  "Yes!" Savannah exclaimed. "As it turns out, it's worth a fortune."

  "Oh?" Gladys remarked. "Because of the artist?"

  "No," Savannah said, "because of the gemstones someone added to the canvas."

  "What?" Gladys said.

  "They dug thousands of dollars worth of precious stones out of the painting, which certainly took a lot of financial pressure off Pam and Jeannie."

  "Well, that must have been an unexpected surprise of the best kind," Gladys said.

  "Sure was, and it was fun to be there when the…" Savannah grinned "…when the secret in the whiskers was revealed."

  "How did they discover it?" Gladys probed. When she saw both Savannah and Michael looking down at Rags, she said, "Don't tell me your cat had something to do with it."

  "Not just something," Michael said. "More like everything."

  Gladys appeared dubious. "Really?"

  "Yes," Savannah confirmed. "He and his beautiful mother cat dug a few of the jewels out when we weren't looking. They fell onto the floor and the kids picked them up and showed them to us. So it was actually a group effort."

  "Amazing," Gladys said. When Teddy began to squirm in her arms, she released him to the floor and asked, "Well, what's next for the Ivey family?"

  "I'm going back to work," Michael said, "where it's safe." When the others looked at him, he added, "Yeah, all I have to worry about there is being bitten by a rabid dog or kicked by an unruly mule."

  Savannah jumped a little. "Oops, there goes my phone. It's probably Pam or Jeannie making sure we got home." She tilted her head. "No. This number isn't familiar. Hello," she answered, walking into the dining room.

  "Is this Savannah Ivey, the author of The Meowmoirs of a Klepto Cat?"

  "Yes."

  "This is Cody Byrd. You don't know me, but…"

  "But I know of you, don't I?" She continued, "You're one of the young men who was stuck in that underground cavern last week." More gently she asked, "How are you, anyway?"

  "I'm okay," Cody said. "Yeah, that was freaky."

  "Did they catch
the people who did that to you?" she asked. "I've been out of town and I haven't kept up with the news."

  "Yes. We all had to identify them. It was some fools named Grubbs and Tex or something like that."

  "Gibbs and Colt?" Savannah corrected. "Oh, I wondered if it was them."

  He hesitated before asking, "Do you know them?"

  "Not really. They were working for friends of ours."

  "Yes, Harrison and Leah," Cody said. "Harrison had no idea what their handymen had been up to. They were pretty shocked to find out it was them."

  "Do you know why they did it?" Savannah asked. "Why would someone do something like that?"

  "I guess they wanted our bikes," Cody said quietly. "We thought they were trying to be helpful when they offered to show us a unique place to get out of the rain overnight, but as you know, things went wrong and…well, we almost took our last breath in that hell hole." He paused, then asked, "Was it really your cat—the one in the book—that led rescuers to us?"

  "Yes," Savannah said. "He was instrumental in finding you along with a feral cat that lives in the area."

  "I met him," Cody said. "When I visited Harrison and his wife they pointed him out to me. I'm a cat person too, so I was interested in the fact that my fate was ultimately in the paws of two cats."

  "I heard that you travel with your cat," Savannah said. "You didn't bring him or her on this trip, though?"

  "No. She and I had just returned from a jaunt down to Mexico when this opportunity came up for me to ride along with Bruce Lang. I decided to let her rest and hang out with my folks. I'm so glad I didn't have her with me. I don't usually run up against such a seriously precarious situation in my travels." He laughed. "According to your book, it sounds like it's just the opposite with Ragsdale. He's been involved in just about every perilous circumstance a cat could possibly face, hasn't he?"

  "I hope so," Savannah said. "I mean, I hate to think there are more hazards ahead for us. I'd love to see Rags retire and just relax for the rest of his nine lives."

  Cody chuckled. "Do you think that's what he wants?"

  "Probably not," Savannah groused. When there was a lull in the conversation. She

  asked, "So, Cody, what can I help you with?"

  "I want to publish a book. It will be my first. I understand that Rags's meowmoirs

  is your first. I read that you're a veterinarian. I'm studying to be a veterinarian. When a friend gave me your book, it seemed as if the universe was sort of pointing me in your direction. So I was thinking maybe you could become a guiding light, or a mentor, or simply an example of what to do and what not to do." Savannah chuckled and Cody continued, "I know you must be busy, but could you spare an hour of your time? I'd like to pick your brain."

  "I'd enjoy that," Savannah said. "Tell me, Cody, what's so unique about your cat other than the fact that you travel together? I mean, what would make someone want to buy your book instead of any other book about a traveling cat?"

  "I'm into a variety of outdoor sports, and Luna goes along with me on the trails, up in the mountains, on the ocean, and I shoot a lot of video and still photos." As a caveat, he quickly added, "Oh, I don't put her in danger. That wouldn't be humane. I make sure she's safe at all times. So if I want to do something wild and crazy, I leave her behind." He snickered. "I have to say she's one gutsy cat, though. She's hard to rattle."

  "She probably trusts you," Savannah offered. She then exclaimed, "Cody, that sounds really interesting! I'd love to hear more about your project and your cat."

  "Really?" Cody said. "That would be great. I'm staying here in Hammond, and I could meet with you any time you say. I'm using public transportation right now and my feet. If we could meet somewhere near Main and Arden, that would be most convenient for me."

  "You didn't get your bike back?" she asked. "Those guys took your bike, didn't they?"

  "Yes they did, and they beat mine up pretty bad. It's in the shop, but I haven't decided if I want to put the money into it or invest in a new one."

  "Okay," Savannah said, "how about if I pick you up tomorrow morning and bring you out here to my place? You'd probably like to meet Rags, right?"

  "Yes, very much. Thank you. What time?"

  "I drop my children off at school at nine," Savannah said, "so how's nine fifteen?"

  "Perfect. I'll be waiting on the bus bench at the southeast corner of Main and Arden. Is that okay?" he asked.

  "Yes. See you then."

  "Thank you again," Cody said. "I sure do appreciate this."

  "I look forward to meeting you," Savannah said. "See you in the morning."

  "Already making plans for a busy week?" Michael asked when she joined him and the children in the living room.

  She chuckled. "Yes, only this opportunity was sort of left over from last week."

  "How's that?"

  "You might remember my telling you that Damon interviewed one of the young men who was rescued from that underground pipe—you know, for the paper. Well, the kid told Damon that he came here because he wanted to meet me. Evidently he travels with a cat and he wants to publish a book about their experiences. He read my book and he thinks I might be able to offer him some insight into the writing and publishing business."

  "Yes," Michael said, "I remember you mentioning him."

  "Well, that was him. We're going to get together tomorrow. I think I'll see if Rob happens to be around. He might want to meet this young man." She placed a call and sat down on the couch next to where Lily was playing with her baby Alana doll. "Hi, Rob, it's Savannah," she said into the phone. "Where are you?"

  "What do you mean, where am I?" he asked.

  "Well, I know that you travel and that any given day you might be in Hammond, San Francisco, or Los Angeles. Where are you today?"

  "Home in LA," he said. "Where are you?"

  "We just returned from another adventure with Rags." She exaggerated a groan. "I swear the adventures are piling up faster than I can write about them."

  "What did he do now?" Rob asked. "I mean, I just spoke to you a couple of weeks ago. He can't create that many new stories in such a short time, can he?"

  "He sure can create new stories and he has, but that isn't what I'm calling about. I sort of met a veterinary student last week who wants to publish a book about his cat." When Rob didn't respond, she said, "He takes her on outdoor adventures, and he shoots a lot of pictures and video. He wants to talk to me about how to get started in the publishing game and what to expect. Michael and I thought you might want to talk to this kid and maybe represent his book since you sort of specialize in unique cat books. I thought if you're in the area, I'd invite you over to meet him."

  "When?" he asked.

  "I'm meeting him tomorrow morning."

  "How long's he staying in Hammond?" Rob asked.

  "I don't know," Savannah said. "He already stayed a week beyond his original plan so he could talk to me."

  "Really?" Rob said. He thought for a long moment. "Yeah, if he'll be there for a few more days I might come up and see what he's got. I could be there tomorrow afternoon. What do you think?"

  "I'll ask him," Savannah promised. "How about if I call you tomorrow morning?"

  "Oh, well, that would be too late for me to get a flight. How about this," Rob suggested, "I'll plan to come up. If he can't stay, I'll simply visit my friends there in Hammond. In fact, Cheryl might want to come with me. Yeah, I think we'll come up and take our chances with the kid. Where's he from?"

  "San Francisco, I think."

  "Good. If we miss him there in Hammond, we can catch up with him in the city," Rob said. "See if you can make an appointment with him for late tomorrow or Tuesday morning."

  "Okay. I'll keep you posted." Savannah added, "Want to stay here?"

  "Um…well, gosh, that would be great," Rob said, "if you don't mind. I much prefer your hospitality and accommodations to that of the little inn in town. Is it okay if we bring our cats? They're turning out to be pretty go
od travelers."

  "Sure," she said.

  "Do you think Rags will be a gentleman around our girls?" Rob asked.

  "You can count on it," Savannah said. "He's quite the ladies' man, you know. Well, you saw how much fun they had together when we visited you a few weeks ago."

  "Yeah, he was pretty good, only he got cranky with Gidget a couple of times," he complained.

  "That's what older cats do when younger cats bug them," Savannah said. "Didn't you ever have little brothers or sisters?"

  Rob chuckled. "No, but I have Cheryl. She bugs me sometimes." Before Savannah could respond, Rob shouted, "Ouch! Ouch! Do you hear that, Savannah? She's picking on me right now."

  "Oh, Rob, you're such a baby," Savannah said. "See you guys and the kitties tomorrow afternoon."

  ****

  Monday morning just after nine fifteen Savannah drove slowly toward a bus stop in downtown Hammond and saw a slight man of about twenty-five leap off the bench and trot toward her car. She lowered the passenger side window and asked, "Cody?"

  He nodded. "Savannah?"

  "Yes, climb in," she invited. She observed him as he fastened his seatbelt. "You look in pretty good shape for someone who went through what you did only a week ago."

  "Yeah, well, I guess my lifestyle kind of helped with that. I do some rugged sports."

  "How are the other guys?" she asked.

  "Doing okay, from what I hear," Cody reported, "at least physically. It may cause us some mental or emotional difficulties at some point." He glanced at her. "You know, PTSD or something. For me, it was one of those life-flashing-before-your-eyes type of experiences. There were times when we thought—you know, this could be it for us."

  Savannah shook her head. "I can't even imagine. I'm so glad you all came out of it okay."

  "Thanks."

  "Cody, how long do you plan to stay here? I know you waited around for me to get back from Oregon. Do you have any more time to spare?"

  "Maybe. What do you have in mind?" he asked.

  "My agent would like to meet you."

  "Really?" Cody said excitedly. "You have an agent?"