The Curious Cat Spy Club

by Linda Joy Singleton

  “I heard you were sick.”

  “Oh … that.” Her cheeks redden. “I wasn’t actually sick. I told Mom I needed a no-stress day to do some thinking.”

  “And she let you stay home?” I’m stunned. I have to be burning up with fever or vomiting before my parents let me miss school.

  “Mom can be bossy, and lately we argue a lot, but we work hard to keep Wild Oaks running so she’s more like a partner than a parent. She trusts me to make my own decisions,” Becca says. “But figuring out the right decisions isn’t easy. There’s a lot to think about.”

  “About what?” Be honest with me, I silently urge.

  “Nothing to do with the club.”

  “Maybe I can help anyway,” I persist. “I’m good at keeping secrets. You can trust me.”

  “I can, can’t I?” She looks closely at me like maybe she’s realizing she really can trust me.

  And I want so badly to trust her …

  Wheels whirl from outside and I hear Leo shout, “Becca! Kelsey! Wait till you see what I have.”

  I groan. His timing couldn’t be worse.

  “We’ll talk later,” Becca says, squeezing my hand.

  We step outside the shack just as Leo hops off his gyro-board.

  He’s breathing hard and sweating but grinning. “I found it!” he says.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  He waves something small in the air like a winning trophy.

  The bird-drone is back.

  - Chapter 16 -

  Grave Suspicions

  We go into the Skunk Shack and pull up our chairs to the table. I spot a cobweb on the ceiling and dust on the window ledge like nature is trying to reclaim our clubhouse.

  Leo sets the bird-drone on the table where it teeters on its spiky metal legs—until one snaps off and rolls onto the floor. The kittens pounce after this strange new toy. Normally I’d smile at their playfulness but we’re all staring sadly at Leo’s smashed robot. The bird-drone wobbles on one leg then flops onto its side with a plunk.

  “Poor busted bird.” Becca sighs like the drone is a living creature.

  Poor Leo, I think. He was so proud when his bird-drone lifted off into the sky. “Can you fix it?”

  “Doubtful.” Leo shakes his head. “It was badly damaged in the crash.”

  “How did you find it without a tracking device?” I ask.

  “I calculated the flight pattern and distance, then narrowed the search area to a baseball field. It smashed down on third base. A sad end for a fine robot.” He bows his head.

  “You can make another one,” Becca encourages, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “You’re really smart.”

  “Thanks,” Leo says with a pained smile. “At least the bird-drone did its job before it crashed.”

  “What do you mean … ouch!” Claws dig into my ankle. I look down to see my playful orange kitten. I scoop her up and she purrs as I hug her.

  “It flew over Willow Rose Lane and took nineteen photos,” Leo is saying. “By cross-checking with Google maps, I matched the addresses to the photos.”

  “You got photos of the backyards?” I ask eagerly.

  Leo unzips the leather pouch he carries instead of a backpack and pulls out a large envelope. “Check these out.”

  Becca leans in beside me, her tiger necklace brushing my shoulder as we look through the photos. Most of them are distant aerial views of rooftops, driveways with shiny cars, and backyards with green lawns, bricked patios, barbecues, gardens, sheds, and garages. But the last three photos are close-ups of ponds with glittering water and rainbow swirls of fish.

  “I zoomed in on those photos because of the ponds,” Leo explains.

  “Koi fish!” I point excitedly.

  “So pretty—like jewels swimming in rainbows,” Becca says. “I’d love to have koi at Wild Oaks.”

  “So would your alligator,” I tease. “Chomp, chomp. Sushi.”

  She swats at me. “You’re terrible.”

  “It’s a talent,” I say, grinning.

  Leo is all seriousness as he plucks three photos from the pile and spreads them on the table. “All the houses have ponds but only three have koi fish.”

  “Who owns the—no kitty! Don’t eat the photos.” I gently put Honey on the floor where she scampers after her siblings.

  “Mrs. Tupin lives in the house with koi fish,” Leo says.

  “This proves she’s guilty!” I snap my fingers. “Witchy Woman dumped our kittens.”

  “Actually it only proves she has koi fish,” Leo says. “Don’t forget the receipt you found also listed dog and cat food.”

  “She could have a dog and cat inside her house,” I say stubbornly. “Becca and I think she might own the mother cat but didn’t want to the kittens, so she got rid of them.”

  “Interesting theory.” Leo taps his chin thoughtfully. “That would explain where the kittens came from.”

  “And tossed them away in a plastic bag like trash.” Becca scowls.

  “Leo, who lives in this house?” I point to one with a barbecue patio with potted plants, wicker chairs, and koi fish swimming in a pond with a waterfall.

  “The Stanfords—a retired couple. I recognized the name because their granddaughter is in my fencing class.”

  “So did you call her?” I ask.

  “Why waste time talking on the phone when there’s more info online? I searched their social media posts and found out they travel a lot and have been on vacation for a month. They have a dog that travels with them.”

  “Who feeds their fish?” Becca asks, always worrying about pets.

  “A neighbor,” he answers in a precise way like he’s reading off a list but he isn’t. “And this pond with the lion statue is Officer Skeet’s.”

  “We already know he has koi fish,” Becca says in a defensive tone.

  I’m more interested in Witchy Woman’s yard. A chain-link fence surrounds a small slanted roof. Could it be a dog house? I don’t see a dog but he could be sleeping inside. I check off each piece of evidence in my notebook:

  a) dog pen

  b) koi fish

  c) possibly owns Mama Cat

  “Witchy Woman is so guilty,” I say. “All we need to do is prove she has Mama Cat.”

  “How do we prove it?” Becca asks.

  “Talk to the neighbors,” Leo suggests, lifting his gaze from the photos to us. “Someone will know if she has a cat—especially a cat who had kittens. According to my calculations, one kitten in a litter will resemble its mother.”

  “That does happen a lot.” Becca bends down to pet her kitten. “So the mother cat will be black like Chris, orange like Honey, or calico like No-Name. You really have to name your kitten, Leo.”

  “Why name a cat I can never have? Dad will always be allergic.” Leo frowns as he watches the three kittens playing. “Let’s focus on catching the cat-dumper. We need to find out if Mrs. Tupin owns the mother cat.”

  “If she still has it,” I say ominously as I study the photo again, looking beyond the dog pen.

  A far corner blooms with flowers—except for a square of dirt. I peer closer at the photo and what I see sends shivers up my skin. “Look at the dirt by the fence.” I point. “It’s fresh and dark like someone’s been digging … burying something small.”

  Becca gasps. “What are you saying?”

  “That I know what happened to the kitten’s mother.” I point to the photo. “There’s her grave.”

  - Chapter 17 -

  Spies and Lies

  The CCSC is in stealth spy mode. We wheel around Willow Rose Lane three times before meeting up under our usual shady willow tree.

  “Witchy Woman’s black SUV isn’t in the driveway,” I say, peering through willow vines. “I think she isn’t home.”


  “Looks like it,” Becca agrees. “The blinds are usually open but they’re closed now.”

  “Excellent,” Leo says with a determined glint in his blue eyes. “I’ll search the backyard. If she has a cat—dead or alive—I’ll find it.”

  “No.” I shake my head firmly. “That’s too dangerous.”

  “Someone might see you,” Becca warns.

  “And what about the dog?” I add with a frown at the photo in my hand. “Just because he’s not in the photo doesn’t mean he isn’t there.”

  “The worst he’ll do is bark, and if he does, I can run fast.” Leo kicks up his gyro-board and hands me the remote. “Watch this for me.”

  Leo suddenly seems taller and less geeky. Bravery looks good on him, I think with surprise. But he can’t be serious. Climb a fence in pressed slacks and a button-down dress shirt? He’ll end up flat on his butt.

  Becca and I offer to go with him but he says we should keep watch and text if Witchy Woman shows up. Becca holds her phone so we’re ready as we spy half-hidden beneath wispy willow vines.

  Even in loafers instead of sneakers, Leo bolts over the gate like a gymnast. Becca bites her lip and my heart thuds so loudly it’s all I can hear. I imagine everything that can go wrong. Leo will trip and break his leg. He’ll fall into the fish pond and drown. There really is a vicious dog and it’s very hungry. Or Witchy Woman really is a witch and she’s lurking in her house ready to grab Leo, and we’ll never see him again.

  Six minutes … eight minutes … twelve. What’s taking Leo so long?

  “Hey, Becca!” a male voice shouts.

  Becca shrieks and I jump so high I hit my head on a willow branch. We spin around as Burton Skeet rolls up on a black bike.

  “What are you doing here, Bec? You don’t live around here.” He’s grinning at her in a sappy way that makes me want to puke.

  “Just riding around,” Becca says uneasily.

  Skeet jerks his thumb at me. “With her?”

  He says “her” like I’m something gross you scrap off from the bottom of your shoe. But he’s taller with muscles, so I don’t argue.

  “I can hang out with whoever I want. And Kelsey and I are busy, so just leave,” Becca says sharply. Unlike me, she has no fear of Skeet.

  “Busy doing what?” He narrows his eyes.

  “None of your business.”

  “Don’t snap at me, Bec,” he says in a softer tone. “You’ll hurt my feelings.”

  Does Skeet have feelings? I wonder, backing up close to my bike in case I need a quick getaway.

  “Just go home,” she tells him.

  “I will if you come with me.” He gives her this little-boy grin, all flashy white teeth and dimples. I have to admit he’s good-looking. But I know beneath the grin lurks a viper ready to strike.

  “Don’t be crazy.” Becca purses her lips like she’s trying not to lose her temper. “We can talk later.”

  “Or now.” He dips his head close to her face, “I’ve missed you, Bec.”

  “Burt, please … this isn’t a good time.” Becca looks panicked like a trapped animal as she glances from me to Skeet. “I’ll call you tonight if you leave.”

  His gaze slithers over me. “You didn’t tell me what you’re doing with her. She’s not a Sparkler.”

  I watch Becca, urging her to say I’m her friend.

  “I’m helping Kelsey find … find her dog,” Becca turns toward me and mouths, “Play along.”

  “You lost a dog?” Skeet asks, suddenly interested. “That sucks. I could help you look. You probably know that my uncle is an animal control officer. I help him out a lot.”

  I remember Officer Skeet complaining that Burt was lazy and not very helpful, but I keep quiet.

  “So go help him,” Becca says. “We can find the dog on our own.”

  But Burton Skeet doesn’t move. “Is there a reward?”

  I say yes just as Becca says no.

  “Kelsey was thinking about offering a reward but we’re sure we’ll find him,” Becca improvises.

  “You’ll find him quicker with my help,” Skeet persists.

  I grip my handlebars so tight my knuckles turn white. Things only get worse when I look across the street and spot Leo halfway over the fence.

  Oh no! It’ll be a disaster if Skeet sees Leo.

  I catch Becca’s gaze and mouth Leo’s name and point. She glances across the street and her eyes pop with panic.

  “Burt, you have to go!” Becca nudges Skeet so his view of the street is blocked by a curtain of vines. “You can’t help because Kelsey’s dog is … um … afraid of guys. He’ll run if he sees you with us. So you have to go.”

  “Is that any way to treat me after what I gave you?”

  “That was sweet.” Becca twirls her finger in the gold chain of the tiger necklace. “It’s really pretty.”

  “I knew you’d like it.” He grins, dimples making him dangerously attractive.

  “Okay, I like it. But you need to leave or we’ll never catch the dog.”

  While she’s talking to Skeet, I’m watching Leo. He can’t see through the willow branches, so he has no idea Skeet is here. Leo looks left then right at the neighboring houses before moving away from the fence. I hold my breath as he creeps low, staying near bushes. Once he crosses the street, he’ll be in plain view.

  “I’ll go on one condition,” Skeet tells Becca with a sly grin.

  “What?” She bites her lip.

  Skeet bends over and whispers in her ear. I can’t hear what he says but I can read his lips, and what I read makes me want to vomit.

  I’m sure Becca will push him away or slap him. But she doesn’t even look outraged. And she’s blushing.

  She looks over at me and mouths, “Sorry.”

  Then Becca lifts her face to Skeet’s and kisses him.

  - Chapter 18 -

  Accusations

  I’ve never seen a bigger smile than Skeet’s as he hops back onto his bike. He’s whirling away while I’m still reeling. The good news is I don’t spew chunks. But the bad news is I’m so shocked I can hardly think straight. Please let this be a hallucination.

  But it really happened. OMG!

  Becca kissed the guy she told me she wanted to avoid; the same guy who gave her a romantic poem and a necklace; the guy I’m beginning to think she likes more than she wants to admit—even to herself.

  “Don’t hate me,” Becca whispers.

  “I don’t … but how could you?”

  “I—I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea.”

  “Kissing someone like Skeet is never a good idea. Yuck.”

  “I got him to leave, didn’t I?” she asks as if proud of herself.

  “But you shouldn’t have let him blackmail you. That’s disgusting. You must have heard how horrible he was to Leo.”

  “Rumors get exaggerated. He’s never mean around me so it’s hard to believe things I’ve heard about him. Still, Leo won’t understand so he can’t know about this.” She clasps my hand. “Promise you won’t tell him.”

  I nod, adding another secret to my collection.

  I may need to start a new notebook soon.

  Still, I can hardly believe Becca kissed Skeet. She’s not afraid of him, so why didn’t she tell him to get lost? Was she really trying to protect Leo? Or did she kiss Skeet because she wanted to?

  When Leo sprints across the street to join us, he’s out of breath but grinning. “That was such a rush!”

  “Tell me about it,” I mutter with a dark look at Becca.

  “You were very brave.” Becca smiles at him, turning away from me.

  “I was, wasn’t I?” Leo puffs up proudly and looks down at his white shirt, which isn’t so white anymore. “Did you see me climb the fence and then jump back down? I felt like I was fl
ying like a drone.” Leo waves his arms. “Spying is exciting.”

  “It can be dangerous too, if you’re not careful,” I warn.

  “According to my calculations, the danger risk was only seventeen percent. And wait till you hear what I found out!”

  I glance up then down the street, worried Skeet might return. “Let’s go somewhere more private to talk.”

  “The Skunk Shack?” Becca suggests.

  “My apartment is closer,” I say. “Although it won’t be private if my family is home.”

  “The decision is obvious.” Leo jumps onto his gyro-board. “We’ll go to my house. It’s the closest, and I have no siblings—only an aquarium of very quiet fish.”

  Becca and I pedal fast to keep up with Leo, so we don’t talk—which is a good thing since I’m afraid of what I might say. I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. I feel like I don’t even know Becca. How can someone so smart kiss a boy like Skeet? I just don’t understand.

  “My parents are working but we still have to follow the no-shoes rule.” Leo holds the front door open then gestures for us to sit on a carved wood bench in the foyer. “Mom doesn’t allow shoes on the carpet.”

  “Wow, your house is all white on the inside too,” I say as I untie my sneakers. White walls and snowy carpet, and even the wall paintings are of snowy mountains and milky-foam ocean waves.

  “It’s embarrassing,” Leo admits with a cringe. “But I’m used to it. And she let me choose the colors for my own room. It’s the one at the end of the hall.”

  Leo’s room is huge—more like a suite. It has a private bath and a living room with a flat-screen TV and shelves overflowing with plastic containers of tools and electronic parts. There’s even a life-size robot standing in a corner like a prop from a science fiction movie.

  Leo clicks a remote and the robot-man’s chest hinges open like wings unfolding to reveal a large screen.

  “Is that another TV?” Becca asks.

  “No, it’s my computer. Check out the photos I took while I was in Mrs. Tupin’s backyard,” he says as he connects his phone to the robot computer.

  Becca stands on one side of Leo and I move to the other. I catch her looking at me curiously but I look away. Now that my shock is over, anger has taken its place. Can I believe anything she tells me?