Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 05 - The Colony Cat Caper

by Patricia Fry

  She glanced at the doorway once again and began speaking more softly. “One night, he told me a deep dark secret. He said he’d been in prison. Years ago, he had stolen something of great value and it was never recovered. He said that over the years, all he could think about was getting out, retrieving the stolen goods, and fleeing the country.”

  Leta closed her eyes. Her chin quivered. She spoke just above a whisper. “That night, he told me things were different now that he had met me. He wanted to make a clean break—make a fresh start with me.” She dabbed at her eyes with the tissue and blew her nose. She looked Savannah in the eyes. “He had decided to give the gems back and go straight…all because of me.”

  “Gems?” Savannah said, a shock wave reverberating through her.

  “Yeah,” Leta said, “it was a jewelry-store burglary. Gems were taken.” She took another sip of water and then said, “That’s all I knew, except that my uncle was somehow involved. When he started talking about where the gems were hidden and wondering how he would get them back to the authorities, boy, was I surprised to learn that they were in my uncle’s building.”

  She faced Savannah again and said, “He sure seemed surprised to learn about my relationship to the Fischers.” She dropped her eyes. “But the more I think about it, the more I wonder if he knew all along. Savannah, I’m beginning to believe I was set up—that this was all an elaborate plan to use me. I was a target and nothing more.”

  Savannah stood and sighed deeply as she gently stroked Leta’s arm. “Gosh, that’s gotta hurt,” she said. “But you’re not sure of that, are you? Maybe it’s all a big coincidence.”

  Leta rolled her head from side to side against the pillow. “That’s what my heart says. But my head is starting to say otherwise.” She moaned. “Mark called me on my cell phone after I landed in here.” She glanced over at the phone on the bedside table. “…and before it went dead. My charger’s in my car.”

  She continued, “That’s when he started accusing me of lying and stealing from him. He went rather berserk. I’ve been a little scared since then, and broken-hearted.” She pulled her blanket up around her neck and cried. “I feel like such an idiot to have believed him. I should have known no man would ever treat me that way because he loved me.”

  Her eyes met Savannah’s. “Oh Savannah, it all makes sense to me, now that I know what he wants from me. I’m not the type of woman a man like him would choose for any other reason. I know that. But I thought if I could find the gems, he would reward me by marrying me…or, at least we’d continue to date.” She covered her face with her hands. “Oh, how I wanted him to love me.”

  “Who have you told about the hidden gems, Leta?”

  “No one.” She put her hand on Savannah’s arm, looked into her eyes and said, “But they may have got their hands on Jeffie. They think he knows where the gems are.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what happened after I got knocked out. When I woke up, everyone was gone.”

  “So there were others with you in the building that night,” Savannah said.

  Leta rolled her head in Savannah’s direction. She tightened her lips and then said weakly, “Yeah.”

  “Leta, have you told this to the police?”

  She stared blankly at Savannah for a moment and then said, “I’m not sure. Someone was questioning me last night and I don’t have much memory of that conversation.”

  “You must tell all of this to Detective Sledge. I can put you in touch with him.”

  Leta rolled her head back and forth. “I don’t think so. I just hope I didn’t say too much to the cops last night.”

  Savannah asked, “Well, what do you plan to do now? You know, the police are searching for the gems.”

  “Yeah, because of your damn cat,” Leta spat.

  Savannah grimaced. Then she changed the subject. “I’m curious,” she said. “What’s your cousin’s story?”

  Leta looked at Savannah. “Jeffrey? Oh, he’s always wanted to be an actor. When my uncle closed up the building, Jeffie evidently found a way to get in and out and he went a little over the edge, or so it seems, by creating his own little theater domain there. From what I understand, he performs almost every night, playing a multitude of characters. Have you seen his studio?”

  “Yeah. It seems as though he does some play-acting out in public, too,” Savannah said.

  “He does?” Leta asked.

  “Yes, he impersonates security guards, old men, old women—you name it.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know about that,” Leta said. “I guess acting has become a way of life for him.” She thought about it for a moment and then said, “More power to him. We should do what makes us happy.”

  “They think he attacked someone out at the old building last week.”

  Leta lay silent for a moment. “Hmm. I can’t imagine him doing that. Why would he do that?” she asked. Before Savannah could respond, she said, “But then, I don’t really know my cousin. I’ve only seen him a handful of times in my life. He never appeared to be the violent type—he’s actually rather effeminate, if you ask me.”

  “So you don’t think he attacked you last night?” Savannah asked.

  Leta thought about the question and then said with a sigh. “I just wish I knew.”

  “Did you see Jeffrey that night?”

  “Yes, we had a little chat. He seemed annoyed that I was there. But I didn’t sense that he would be violent. Besides, why would he do it?”

  “Because he doesn’t want to be discovered. He has eked out a life for himself there—one that he seems to enjoy. Where would he go if he was pushed out of the building? Or maybe his father and the attorney know he lives there. Do you think they do? Do you think they care?”

  “Um, that’s a good question. I don’t know. I haven’t been in touch with my uncle or his attorney.”

  Savannah stared hard at Leta. “Okay, if it wasn’t your cousin who pushed you, who else do you think it could have been?”

  Leta was silent. Finally she said, “I’d rather not say.” She turned toward the window and closed her eyes.

  Savannah waited for a few minutes. When it appeared that Leta was finished with the visit, Savannah left the room; her next stop—the restroom just off the hospital lobby. As she re-entered the lobby, she glanced over at the information booth; a different woman was sitting there. The woman looked up at Savannah, smiled, and waved. “Hello there, Dr. Ivey. Come to have your baby?”

  “Oh Nancy, hi,” Savannah said. “No. Visiting someone. But I hope to be here having the baby soon. How’s Buster?” she asked, walking toward the booth.

  “Good,” Nancy said. “That silly pup’s skin has cleared up nicely, thanks to your remedy.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Savanna said. “Skin problems can sometimes take a lot of patience and experimentation.”

  “I guess that was the key,” she said. “But he’s almost itch-free now.”

  Just then a man walked up to the desk. Savannah waved at Nancy and started to walk away, when she heard him say, “Leta Barnes’s room, please.”

  Savannah stopped and looked back at the man. She noticed he was stocky and dressed in slacks and a blue polo shirt. He had a dark tweed blazer over one arm. Hmm, handsome, she thought, as she noticed his sandy, graying hair and square, masculine face. Then it occurred to her. That’s Mark Chandler, the man in Leta’s photograph—the man she seemed to be somewhat afraid of.

  “Room one-twelve,” Nancy said. “Straight down the hall to your right.”

  He thanked her and headed off in the direction she indicated.

  Savannah exited the lobby into the parking lot. After climbing into her new SUV, she pulled out her phone and placed a call. “Hi Craig. I could be going out on a limb here, but I just left Leta Barnes’s hospital room.”

  “Oh, how’s she doing?” Craig asked.

  “I’m not sure. I’m actually concerned about her safety.”

  “How so, Savannah?” She could hear the conce
rn in his voice.

  “Well, she told me a long story about how she’s mixed up in this search for the stolen gems. Evidently, the thief is her boyfriend.” She paused. “I could be wrong, but I think she’s afraid of him.”

  “Hmm, she hasn’t been able to come up with the stones, so he’s not so friendly toward her, is that the deal?”

  Savannah sighed. “I guess so. But, Craig, Leta showed me a picture of him, and as I was leaving the hospital, I saw him heading for her room. I didn’t know what to do, but since she seemed fearful, I thought maybe I’d better call and let you know.”

  “So that sleazebag Mexican showed up there, did he?”

  “Mexican?” Savannah questioned.

  “Yeah, well, a half-breed. Goes by the name Mark Chandler, but with those strong Mexican or Spanish genes, he looks more like a Pablo Sanchez or Pedro Garcia, don’t you think?”

  Savannah sat stunned. “Well, no, Craig. This guy’s not Mexican. He’s kinda blond, actually. Dark blond with a little grey and has a fair complexion. No, definitely not Mexican.”

  “Well, that’s odd. Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, positive. I saw the picture of him and then I saw him in person—not Mexican.”

  Savannah heard silence and then a deep sigh. “What in the hell are we dealing with here?” he asked, not expecting an answer. “Why would someone impersonate a criminal?” Before Savannah could respond, Craig said, “Money, I suppose. It always boils down to money. We’ve got to find those gems before these guys hurt someone else trying to get to them.”

  “So, are you going to send someone over to check on Leta? I still think she may be in danger.”

  Craig was quiet and then said, “Yes, I think I will contact the law there in Straley and have them send someone out to talk to her.”

  “Craig, there’s more,” Savannah said.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Have you found Jeffrey Fischer?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Leta says these crooks think he has the gems. She’s concerned about him.” The line seemed to go dead. “Craig, are you there?” Savannah asked.

  “Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “I’m here. So Chandler and/or his white friend may have found a way into the building—or maybe Leta or Jeffrey let them in. When they couldn’t find the gems, they may have taken Jeffrey Fischer believing he has them,” he said as if thinking out loud. “Yes, that could be. Well, we know where Chandler lives. I’ll send someone over there right now,” he said. “Does that cover all the bases, Savannah?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “I think so, Craig. I’ll be interested in what you find out.”

  “Well, thank you for letting me know about all this, Savannah.” He started to end the call and then he said with a chuckle, “You and your cat make quite a team.”

  ***

  Michael arrived home from the clinic at the usual time and found Savannah resting in the overstuffed chair with her feet elevated on the ottoman. Buffy lay tucked alongside Savannah, Rags was sprawled against her legs on the ottoman and Walter lay in a bread-loaf position beneath her on the floor. “Well, aren’t you all cozy?” he said upon entering the living room.

  “Yup, the gang’s all here,” Savannah said.

  “Except for Lexie.” He looked around. “Where’s Lexie?”

  “Oh, darn,” Savannah said. “I put her out in her pen a while ago. It was so quiet, I forgot all about her.”

  She started to lift herself from the chair when Michael said, “Stay put. I’ll get her.” But first he bent down and kissed Savannah. When he stood up, he said, “You taste good. What is that?”

  “Oh,” she said rather sheepishly, “the baby and I enjoyed a peppermint candy a while ago.

  Michael reached down and kissed her again and then walked away saying, “Mmmm, peppermint.”

  Savannah shook her head, and grinned.

  When Michael returned with Lexie, he sat down on the sofa and started to remove his shoes.

  “Wait,” Savannah said sharply.

  “Huh?”

  “Well, I was in Straley for a while today and didn’t get a chance to fix dinner. I thought we could eat at the diner tonight. Okay with you?”

  Michael feigned extreme disappointment. With an exaggerated sigh and slumping shoulders, he said in a complaining tone, “I just got home.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess we could open a can of soup. Would that be okay?”

  “I’m kidding, hon. Of course we can go out, if you feel up to it. We haven’t been out to eat in a while. Have the critters eaten?” he asked.

  “No, I’ve just been a couch potato this afternoon, or…er…a chair potato.”

  “A chair potato, huh?” He motioned toward the animals and said, “Surrounded by all your potato chips.” He was still laughing as he headed toward the kitchen. “I’ll feed while you get your jacket.”

  “Wait,” Savannah said.

  “What?”

  “I’m going to need some help.” She planted her feet on the floor and held her hand out to Michael, who helped her rise out of the cushy chair.

  “What would you do if I wasn’t here?” he asked.

  “I guess the chair would swallow me up and you’d have to hope it would eventually spit me out.”

  ***

  Nearly half-hour later Savannah and Michael stepped into the diner. “Hi, guys,” Iris greeted.

  “Oh hi, girlfriend,” Savannah said. “Didn’t know you were working tonight.”

  Iris leaned into Savannah and said, “I have my eye on a designer sweater over at the consignment shop and these young servers are always eager to give me extra hours. Sooooo…” she said with animation. She then looked from Savannah to Michael. “Didn’t feel like cooking tonight, huh?”

  “No, I went over to Straley today and was kinda tired when I got home,” Savannah explained.

  “That’s right, you were going over to see Leta Barnes. How is she? How did she react to seeing you?” she asked as she led them to a booth. She laid two menus on the table, looked around the restaurant, and then sat down with the couple to finish their conversation.

  “She’s kind of beat up, actually.” Savannah said as she removed her jacket. “Says she doesn’t know who hit her.” She leaned into Iris and glanced over at Michael. “She told me some of her secrets. She’s actually kind of an interesting gal—in a bizarre sort of way,” Savannah said.

  “I thought I might find you two here,” Craig said as he walked up to the Iveys’ booth at the diner.

  “Well, hello there,” Iris said standing. She looked around and then kissed Craig.

  “Hi yourself,” he said, placing one hand around her waist and pulling her to him for another quick kiss.

  “Sit down, Craig,” Michael invited while moving over to sit next to Savannah.

  “Thanks, I do have a few things to ask your wife, if you don’t mind my interrupting your dinner.”

  “We haven’t even ordered yet. Want to eat with us?”

  Craig looked around and then said, “Yeah, why not?”

  “I’ll get you a menu,” Iris said.

  “No need. I know what I want.”

  “So do I,” Michael said.

  “What?” Savannah asked.

  “Hot turkey sandwich,” Michael said, smacking his lips in anticipation.

  “Oh.” Savannah picked up her menu and asked Craig, “Okay, what are you having?”

  “Deep-fried shrimp and chips,” he said with a smile.

  “Oh,” Savannah said looking back at the menu. She then asked Iris, “What do you recommend?”

  “How about a chicken pot pie and green salad?” Iris suggested.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I want. How’d you know?”

  Iris grinned at Savannah and shook her head.

  “And herbal iced tea with lemon,” Savannah said.

  Craig ordered coffee, as did Michael.

  Once the trio had their beverages and Iris had w
alked away to greet a large group of new customers, Craig said, “Just to be sure, I want you to take a look at this.” He pulled a mug shot out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Savannah.

  She looked at it and then at Craig. “Who is this?” she asked.

  “That, Savannah, is Mark Chandler.”

  “Wow!” she said. “That is not the man I saw at the hospital today, nor the one in Leta’s photograph—the one she calls Mark Chandler. Whew, is this weird or what?”

  Michael looked from one to the other of his tablemates and asked, “Who’s Mark Chandler?”

  Craig responded, “Well, he’s the thief who was arrested for the jewelry heist ten years ago.”

  “And he’s Leta Barnes’s boyfriend,” Savannah said. “But the boyfriend and the thief look nothing alike.”

  “What?”

  “You think you’re confused,” Craig said. “Here’s the long and short of it. It appears that Leta’s boyfriend is impersonating the thief. Why? We’re not quite sure.”

  “Well, Craig, you said the real Mark Chandler is being watched. But what’s to keep him from pursuing the gems through an impersonator?” Savannah said.

  “So you think that the men are partners in this? Chandler is pulling the strings from the shadows and keeping his nose clean, and the other one—who isn’t being watched—is doing Chandler’s dirty work?” Craig asked.

  “Yeah.” Savannah chuckled. “Including dating Leta.”

  “Dating Leta is dirty work?” Michael asked.

  Savannah laughed and lowered her voice. “Well, she isn’t what you’d consider a beauty. Even Leta herself says so.” She continued, “…and this guy would have to use Chandler’s name if he was going to convince Leta that he was the jewel thief.”

  “Why?” Michael asked.

  “In case she checked his story, right Craig?”

  “Very astute, Savannah. Yes, the story was all over the news and would be easy to check, that’s for sure.”