Catnapped (A Klepto Cat Mystery)

by Fry, Patricia

  Edie and Gina looked up expectantly as Savannah returned from the front porch after making the call on her cell phone.

  “He asked me to convey to you how very sorry he is. He sounds crushed and angry at the same time. He said this is about the sixth client he’s heard from this week with missing cats. He is completely at a loss as to what’s happening,” Savannah reported.

  “Sally?” Edie said weakly as she stood and walked over to the front window.

  Savannah hesitated. She then joined the distressed woman, took her hand and looked her in the eyes. “He said we can only hope to find her before…”

  Edie turned to face Savannah. “Before what?” she insisted.

  Savannah took a breath and continued, “He believes she will be okay without her treatment for as many as four days.”

  Gina shook her head. “Surely we’ll find the cats by then.”

  “Four days away from me…she just won’t understand. She’s my constant companion,” Edie said as tears ran down her cheeks.

  “We’re working on finding the cats as we speak, Edie. I promise. We have a lead and we have a plan in the works. We will find her,” Margaret said.

  “Can I get you a glass of water—or I could make some tea…” Savannah offered. “I’d be happy to.”

  “Yes, a glass of water for my mom…that would be nice. Thank you,” Gina said. “Kitchen is right in there. Here, Mom, let’s sit down.”

  When Savannah returned with a tray of tall glasses and a pitcher of ice water, she noticed that the trio was sitting on the sofa looking through a photo album featuring Sally since she was a kitten. “Tell us how she came to you,” Savannah said after she had served the water and pulled a chair closer.

  Edie smiled through her tears. “I had never owned a cat. Gina and my other daughter Donna had a few cats growing up. I never did make up to them—they just sort of came and went. I was a fairly young widow. Once the girls were grown, I began dating a man—had been dating him for more years than I care to reveal. I wasn’t all that happy then and I’d read somewhere that owning a pet could have a positive impact on your mood—make you smile more—even make you healthier. My older daughter and her husband had a cat then and I’d become quite fond of him.”

  She grinned rather sheepishly when she said, “Stanley hated cats. He actually told me that he would never come to my house again if I got one. So adopting a cat was sort of my round-about way of breaking it off with him.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “So where did you find Sally?” Margaret asked.

  “About ten years ago, I began the hunt for just the right kitten. I stopped at farm houses and houses in town each time I saw a sign for kittens available. But there was never any chemistry between me and all the litters of kittens I saw. Then, one day, I stopped at a pet store with my grandson. Jeremy loved to go see the bunnies, fish, birds, hamsters. Sometimes they had cats and dogs. Well, this day, we walked in and there was sweet Sally and her brother in a cage waiting for adoption. They were about eight-weeks-old. As you saw in the photos, she has pastel shades of grey and gold patches with lots of white. She was timid and stayed close to her yellow-and-white brother.” Edie looked off into space for a moment before continuing. “Oh, how I wish I had taken them both. I hope he found a good home,” she lamented.

  She smiled a little at the memories of her kitten. “Sally was not cuddly or even very friendly. She didn’t like to be held and never jumped on my bed or sat in my lap. She was a loner. I remember cupping my hands around her tiny face, looking into her big green eyes and promising I would always love her and care for her—that we were a team and I would be her mommy. I got Sally in July or August and my relationship with Stanley ended in the fall. I made a good decision.

  Edie smiled. “I’m now dating a wonderful man; he loves cats. He has been nothing but kind to Sally and worries about her as much as I do. He tries to do everything he thinks she wants—an open door to the screened-in porch, her blanket fluffed to make her bed more comfortable, the bathtub water turned on so she can lick from the spigot…”

  Edie ran her fingers softly over a photo of the cat. “Sally has changed since she has grown older. She now jumps on my desk and lap. She follows me like a puppy and she wants to be close to us. She even travels with us in our motor home.” Her face lit up when she announced, “She has been to twelve states so far.”

  “It sounds as though she is a special kitty,” Margaret said. “What a personality. Look at her sleeping with her head on your foot. How cute is that?”

  “And this one,” Savannah said, “where she’s watching you embroider.”

  “Oh yes,” Edie said with some enthusiasm, “she loves to watch me do needlework.”

  “Mother, tell them about the wrinkles in her sheets,” Gina prompted

  “Oh, she is so cute,” Edie said with a smile. “I keep sheets on this chair for her and on the bed. She likes sleeping on the sheets, but she doesn’t like wrinkles.” She laughed. “She will sit there and stare at us without blinking when she wants us to smooth out the wrinkles. No kidding. Talk about a spoiled kitty,” Edie said. And then her demeanor changed. She suddenly felt the pain of her loss and the fear of not knowing where Sally was and what was happening to her.

  Margaret looked over at Edie. “We must go now. Can I take this picture of her with me? I promise to bring it back. I just want to show it to members of our surveillance team.”

  “Yes, by all means.” Edie stood to usher her guests out. “Thank you so much for taking all this time with me.”

  Margaret steadied herself on her crutches. “Sure, Edie. Now call me if you think of anything that might help us figure out who is taking the cats, will you?”

  Chapter 6

  Margaret woke with a start. She hadn’t been asleep long—the events of the past few days were wearing on her and she was excited about the prospect of recovering the cats. Why else would she have so much trouble falling asleep? Even the double dose of Motrin, while it took the throb out of her head wound, didn’t help bring sleep. Her mind couldn’t release the worry about the missing cats. But she had other things on her mind, as well—thoughts her niece had brought up—fears she had refused to acknowledge. Who did uncover the old cesspool in my backyard? Who knew it was there? Was it uncovered on purpose—to hurt me…kill me? Oh, I don’t have time to think about that. Margaret shivered as if to chase away the unwelcome thoughts. There are cats’ lives at stake. I must focus on the cats.

  She turned on her bedside lamp, swung her right leg over the side of the bed, and reached for her water decanter. She filled her glass and took a swig, while glancing at the bedroom door. Still closed. Rags would not be visiting her tonight. There was another presence in the room, though. Layla was curled up in her cozy leopard-print bed. The little cat lifted her head and peered at Margaret through squinty eyes, yawned, stretched out her front paws and then lay back down and went to sleep.

  I wish it was that easy for me, Margaret thought, as she lay back down in her own bed.

  Briiiinnnnngggg, Briiinnnnnggggg.

  The phone? At this hour? What time is it? she wondered as she glanced at the clock. 4:15!

  “Hello,” she croaked. Clearing her throat, she tried again, “Hello.”

  “Maggie, it’s Betty. I know I woke you—so sorry, just couldn’t wait to tell you that it was a rough night, but we made progress. I think the committee will be pleased with our report. Maggie, we identified a couple of the cats that were taken. That’s the good news. Gil got close enough to get some video. But are you aware that they’re dealing in horses?”

  “Yes and no. I know they have horses that don’t look all that healthy. But I haven’t figured out what their gig is.”

  “While we were watching, a stock truck came onto the property and two men loaded up as many horses as they could cram in—I’m telling you, some of those horses were in bad shape. There were a few good-looking ones, but some were having trouble making it into the t
ruck, they were so weak. While they were being loaded, Bray and a man who came in the stock truck stood side by side, making notes. Once the horses were loaded, the two of them seemed to be doing some figuring and then money changed hands. The other man pulled out what looked to be a wad of bills and counted out some in Bray’s hand. We used the night-vision equipment you borrowed for us and saw a couple of horses that looked like BLM mustangs. We think they may be stealing horses to sell to slaughter houses.”

  “Oh, that’s awful. Something we should look into. What kind of truck was it—did it have a logo?”

  “It looked as if it had a logo, actually, but it was covered by one of those magnetic signs, which was blank. Well, we pretty much had the information we needed by then, so we decided to hoof it back to the car and follow the truck.”

  “You didn’t!” Margaret hissed. “You followed it?”

  “Sure did, girl. We figured we had some criminals on our hands and we wanted to see what they were up to. We’re on our way back to the city now.”

  “Betty, where did the stock truck go? What happened?”

  “They pulled off the road about 150 miles out of town. Private property, so we decided not to follow them in. We think they’re headed for a slaughter house across the border. Hopefully, with this information, now the authorities will investigate.”

  “Is it illegal to sell horses to a slaughter house?” Margaret asked.

  “No, unless the horses they’re selling are stolen. If we can prove they’re stealing horses, we could put them out of business.”

  “Did you get pictures?” Margaret asked.

  “Yes, quite a bit of video.”

  “Well, I’ll be! Those creeps really are into some shady dealings. Now if we can find out where they’re getting those horses…some look like mustangs from the BLM ranges, you say?”

  “Oh yes. I know a couple of people who have adopted some of them when authorities do the round-ups. I couldn’t make out whether or not they had the freeze brand, though.”

  “Freeze brand?”

  “The mustangs get a freeze brand when they’re gathered from the range lands for the adoption program.”

  “My head is swimming, Betty. And I’ll bet you are exhausted. Sounds like you and Gil did an all-nighter. Go home; rest. We can talk later. Can you meet me at animal control this afternoon with this information? We’ll let them decide whether or not to alert the authorities. And Betty…thank you so much for all that you do for our pets. You and Gil have gone beyond the call of duty.”

  “It’s my passion, too, Maggie. Someone has to stand up for those creatures that don’t have a voice. See you later.”

  Margaret knew it was no use trying to go back to sleep, what with visions of horse rustlers, catnappers, and someone who wanted to scare or hurt…or even kill her going through her head. She leaned back against the headboard and looked over at Layla who was out of bed now, walking slowly toward her. The little cat hopped up on the bed, climbed over onto Margaret’s outstretched legs, and sat there staring into her favorite person’s eyes. Layla was unusual in that way—she’d look Margaret straight in the eye and stare as if she could read what her owner was thinking—as if she were picking up information clairvoyantly. And Margaret wasn’t too sure she couldn’t key into her thoughts. Which was okay with her most of the time. She loved peering into those perfectly round green eyes. They seemed all-knowing and loving at the same time. Comforting.

  The only thing she enjoyed more was cuddling and snuggling with the little cat. “You are such a dear, Laylee. I just love you to pieces,” she whispered into her fur as she held her close. Layla purred, seemingly in response.

  ***

  “Good morning, Auntie,” Savannah said as she sauntered into the kitchen where her aunt stood rinsing out a few dishes. She wrapped her arms around Margaret in a bear hug and asked, “Did you sleep well?”

  “Well, aren’t we chipper? What made you so happy?” Margaret asked, pivoting on one foot to take a closer look at her niece.

  “I’m always happy,” Savannah replied while pulling a kitchen chair out for her aunt.

  “Pshaw!” Margaret said as she plopped down in the chair. Suddenly, she looked up at Savannah. “Oh wait—you went out last night. I heard your little Honda putting down the driveway around nine. Did you go over to the clinic?” She smiled in anticipation of Savannah’s response.

  “Yes.” Savannah tried to maintain a calm in her voice. “Yes, I did. Now, do you want scrambled eggs and ham for breakfast or yogurt and granola? We also have some fresh fruit.”

  “Vannie,” her aunt said in a teasing voice, “you were with Michael again last night, weren’t you?”

  She cleared her throat nervously. “Yes, we wanted to discuss one of his cases.”

  “So it was business, huh?” Margaret looked over at her niece suspiciously. “Monkey business, if you ask me.”

  Observant gal, this one, Savannah thought. Should I tell her what has me feeling rather giddy? What would she think if I told her we spent most of the night at Michael’s house talking and how we were so engaged that we completely lost track of time. And the kiss… My knees are still weak just thinking about the kiss—so unexpected—so right.

  “Hello…” Margaret said. “Earth to Savannah.”

  “What? Oh, sorry.” Savannah felt a little flushed. “I guess my mind wandered. What did you say?”

  “Oh my. You’ve got it bad, don’t you? I said,” she hesitated in an attempt to get Savannah’s full attention, “let’s have scrambled eggs and some of that ham that Helena brought over. We’re going to need our strength. I have a few things I’d like to do today.”

  “Oh, what?” Savannah asked as she pulled the skillet out from under the cabinet and retrieved the eggs and ham from the fridge.

  “We need to get you something to wear to the dance, for one thing.”

  “Dance?” Savannah looked puzzled.

  “Remember, we have that benefit dance tomorrow night. Everyone will be there. I think I’ll wear my lace and silk skirt with my purple sweater. I’d better practice up on my wheelchair dancing,” Margaret said with a giggle. “Did you bring something you can wear? If not, we’ll look through my closet. I still have some skinny clothes that might work for you.”

  “Cool. So what day is this? Friday? What’s on the agenda? Anything interesting?” Savannah asked with a big grin on her face.

  “Well, let’s hope not too much so. But yes, I’m sure it will be an interesting day,” Margaret said thoughtfully. “I want to do a little sleuthing. Are you with me?”

  Much too happy to disagree with anything or anyone, Savannah said, “Sure, Auntie. Lead the way.”

  “I want to get my filthy car washed, number one. I’d like to do some checking at local feed stores to find out if any horses are missing…”

  Savannah turned toward her aunt. “Horses?”

  “Yes, I’m told that old man Bray might be stealing horses and running them possibly to a horse slaughter house in Canada. I want to ask some questions at a few trucking companies. I did some checking online and discovered that the closest horse-meat-packing plant is in British Columbia. That’s over a thousand miles, round-trip. I presume these yoyos are selling the horses outright. They probably aren’t doing the hauling themselves. They’re just bringing in horses for a kill-buy agent.”

  “Or we could save energy for the dance and make some calls,” Savannah suggested.

  Margaret stared at her niece for a few seconds. “I’ll think about that,” she said, having no intention of using the phone to run down the information she was after. “I’d also like to give Max a hand if we have time. I haven’t been much help these last several days.”

  Savannah smiled. “I’d like that.” She set a bowl of fruit in front of Margaret. “Here, Auntie. Eat up. Sounds like we’re going to need some energy.”

  ***

  Margaret peered over her glasses when Savannah entered the living room dressed and rea
dy for their day. “You look nice. New jeans? What’s the occasion?”

  “Can’t a girl get cleaned up once in a while?”

  “And makeup. You’re wearing makeup. Vannie, you are lovely au naturel, but you are a knockout with the subtle way you wear makeup. I like that blouse on you, too—shows off your svelte figure. That’s a nice shade of mauve for you. Good job.”

  “You look fresh yourself, Auntie. How’s your head?”

  “It’s a wonder what a shower will do. I’m getting the hang of a sit-down shower. It felt good to really wash off the grime from the last few days.”

  Savannah knew her aunt was speaking more about the incidents and their implications than the physical dirt.

  “My head looks okay and it doesn’t appear that I’ll get a black eye. It’s been two days and there’s bruising only around the spot. I should be able to go without the bandage by tomorrow evening. My hair will partially cover the gash.”

  “I’m glad it’s healing up okay. No infection or anything,” Savannah said. “Are you ready to go?” she asked. “I’ll load your wheelchair in the car and come back and help you down the steps.”

  Savannah drove out of her aunt’s driveway onto the main road. “Where to first?”

  “Let’s get the car washed. I’ll treat you to an iced mocha while we wait. Do you remember where the car wash is?”

  “Sure. Sounds good.”

  The two women drove in silence for a few blocks before Margaret said, “So Vannie, tell me—are you still okay with how things are between you and your young man, Travis?”

  “Huh?”

  “I mean, after thinking about your talk with him yesterday, are you still good with the situation?”

  Savannah thought for a moment and then said, “Yes, I told you yesterday that it’s over between us.”

  “Yeah, I know. But sometimes it’s hard to let go. I’m just wondering…”

  “The thing is, Auntie, we’ve been together on and off for about three years. We’ve had good times, but our relationship just never seemed easy for either of us. We’d break it off for a while, but it never lasted.