A Picture-Purrfect Christmas (A Klepto Cat Mystery Book 13)

by Patricia Fry

  “More?” Erin said when Mabel handed her a gift bag. She looked at Marissa. “Are we dreaming, Rissy? This is just too good to be true.” She looked around at everyone. “All of it.”

  “But there’s more,” Roland said. “Mabel and I thought you might need this. We heard through the grapevine that you don’t have one. I think it’s standard for a college student.”

  Erin wiped at her eyes and focused on the gift bag. She reached in and pulled something out. Once she had removed the tissue, she shouted, “A laptop! I can’t believe it. My own laptop! It’s mine, really?”

  Laughing, Mabel and Roland said, “Really. It’s yours.”

  Erin leaped up from the floor and rushed to the couple, hugging one and then the other. “Thank you so much,” she said. She held the laptop to her and spun around. “No more waiting at the library for a computer.” She looked at it again and said, “I’m so happy.” She glanced around the room and said more somberly, “So this is Christmas, huh?”

  “You never celebrated Christmas either?” Savannah asked.

  She shook her head. “We had a tree at one of the places where I stayed, and there were a few presents. Don’t get me wrong; I was grateful for what I got—an old doll of the housemother’s that was only for looking at, not playing with, and a few hair ribbons.”

  “Susie?” Marissa said.

  Erin nodded. “Yes, I still have that doll—Susie—as a remembrance of my first—one and only—Christmas.”

  “How old were you, Erin?”

  “Seven, I think.”

  Suddenly, Marissa stood. “Oh, I almost forgot.” She walked awkwardly toward the tree, digging around in the branches for a moment. She then pulled out something, and walked over to Savannah. “I remembered what you said that day in the photography class about giving.” She lowered her head. “I was so busy taking that I forgot about giving. She held something out to Savannah. “For you and Dr. Mike, from me,” she said, smiling.

  “Oh, well, you sneaky little devil,” Savannah said, smiling widely. “When…how?” she stammered.

  “One day when you weren’t looking,” she said. “Open it.”

  Savannah peered at Marissa, thinned her lips, and untied the piece of string from around the newspaper wrapping. When she removed the paper, she looked stunned. “Oh Marissa, this is stunning. Is this one of your…?”

  The girl nodded. “I thought you’d like that picture I took, so I had Ms. Shelly print it and we kept it a secret from you. I made the frame out of cardboard and beads. Do you like it?”

  “I love it,” Savannah said, holding it to herself.

  “What is it, hon?” Michael asked, looking over her shoulder.

  “A gorgeous picture of our daughter. Boy, Marissa, you really captured her. This is a wonderful shot.”

  “Gosh, it sure is,” Michael agreed. “I’ve seen this expression on Lily, but I don’t think we’ve ever caught it in a picture. Good job, Marissa,” Michael said, inviting a high five.

  “I want to see,” Margaret said. “Pass it around.”

  Marissa stood silently for a moment, before saying, “You were right, Ms. Savannah.”

  “About what?” she asked.

  “It does feel good to give.”

  While everyone looked at the picture, Marissa went back to her seat on the sofa and began tinkering with her camera. She took a few shots of Angel and Rags. She asked everyone to gather around the tree so she could get a picture to always remember her first Christmas. Then Savannah showed her how to set the camera on delay and take a picture with everyone in it—Michael held Rags, Marissa held Angel, and Margaret held Lily.

  Suddenly, Savannah said, “Oh, where has the time gone? I’d better get the potatoes boiling.”

  “I put the pies in the pantry,” Max said, “…pumpkin, apple, and chocolate cream—that one’s in the fridge.” He grinned at the girls. “I heard there is a choco-holic here today.”

  Erin grinned. “That would be me. Chocolate cream pie? Sounds delicious!”

  “Errie,” Marissa said, excitedly, “we’re going to have a Christmas dinner just like they do on those family TV shows.” She took Erin’s hands and jumped up and down a little. “Can you believe it?” She then turned and asked, “Ms. Savannah, can we help?”

  “Sure, there’s always something to do in the kitchen on Christmas.”

  “Come on, Erin and Grandma—let’s get cooking,” Marissa said. She took Savannah’s hand and confided, “I’ve never been able to help in the kitchen. It always looked kinda fun to me.”

  Twenty minutes later, the kitchen quartet returned to the dining room with reports of the feast in progress. “I whipped some cream and cut up some fruit in a salad,” Marissa announced excitedly.

  “Erin cooked the cranberries,” Savannah said.

  “Yeah, I’d never seen a cranberry. Now I know where the juice comes from.”

  Marissa looked up at her grandmother. “Do you allow children in your kitchen? I think I’d like to learn to cook some things.”

  Mabel laughed. “The more the merrier,” she said. “Our kitchen is the happiest place in our house.”

  “This has been the most perfect day,” Marissa said. “I can’t believe it’s really me having a family Christmas. Would someone pinch me?” She said more quietly, “There is one more thing I’ve always wanted to do and never was able to do it.”

  “What’s that dear?” Mabel asked.

  “Don’t laugh.”

  “We won’t. What is it?”

  “Go Christmas caroling,” she said, not knowing what sort of reaction she would get.

  “Christmas caroling?” Savannah said. “You mean wear warm sweaters and beanies and mittens and go door to door singing Christmas carols to the neighbors?”

  “Yes!” Marissa said jumping up and down a little.

  Savannah glanced around at the others. “Sounds like a great idea. I’m in,” she announced.“I’d love to do that,” Mabel said.

  Michael, who had overhead the conversation, said, “Yeah, only…”

  “Only what, Michael?” Savannah asked frowning. “You’re not going to rain on our parade, are you?”

  “Well, hon, it’s already raining on your parade—no wait,” he said, walking to the window and peering out. “It’s—it’s snowing on your parade.”

  “Snowing?” Savannah shouted. “No way!”

  “Yes, way,” he said smiling. “Hey gang,” he called, “it’s snowing out—ever see that happen on Christmas day?”

  “What? Snow?” Margaret said. “Never.” She carried Lily toward the window where the others had gathered. “Are you sure that’s snow?”

  “Let’s go outside and find out,” Michael suggested. “Grab your coats, everyone.”

  Once outside, the group began picking up small handfuls of the powdery snow and tossing it in the air, while Marissa took pictures. Savannah grabbed the girl’s new camera, saying, “Go get in the snow, I’ll take your picture.” She chuckled to herself, thinking, Norman Rockwell, your paintings have nothing on this warm family scene.

  ****

  Forty-five minutes later, Erin and Marissa walked down the stairs freshly showered and wearing some of their new duds. They joined the women, who were puttering in the kitchen.

  “You girls look nice,” Savannah said.

  Marissa hugged Savannah. “That’s ‘cause I’m happy.”

  “That’s ‘cause I have clothes that fit,” Erin said, laughing.

  “Well, happy looks good on both of you.” She glanced at one and then the other. “I think happy is what you’ll be wearing from now on, don’t you?” She turned toward her aunt. “So how are the potatoes coming?”

  “Almost ready,” she said. “I like your idea of making a potato casserole, Mabel. It’ll keep while we’re gone on the caroling expedition.” She then asked, “Where are we going, anyway?”

  Savannah thinned her lips. “I’ve been thinkin
g about that. We should go to another neighborhood. We don’t have many neighbors here.”

  “Maybe over to the new tract behind the shopping center,” Margaret suggested.

  “Or the area near the grammar school,” Savannah said.

  As the adults discussed possibilities, Marissa quietly asked, “Could we go to where Errie and I used to live?” When the others looked at her quizzically, she explained, “There are people who could use a little happiness in their lives—old people with no one who cares, poor families who probably can’t afford to have Christmas, some children Errie and I know whose parents were killed a few months ago. I’d like to cheer them up with our songs, if it’s okay with you.”

  Just then, Michael walked into the room with Lily in his arms. “Someone’s up from her nap,” he said in a sing-song voice.

  “Hi baby Lily,” Marissa said, taking her hand and smiling up at her.

  Lily reached out for Marissa.

  “Want to hold her?”

  “Yes,” the child said. “But she may be too heavy.”

  “Sit here at the table and I’ll put her on your lap.” Michael then asked, “So where are we going caroling?”

  “Sutter Street,” Savannah said, winking at Marissa.

  He nodded, pulled his phone out of his pocket, and walked out of the room, soon calling out, “When are we leaving?”

  Savannah glanced around at everyone. “Say, twenty minutes?”

  “You are so cute,” Marissa crooned as she held the baby.

  Lily reached up and pinched the girl’s face. She then leaned forward and rested her forehead on Marissa’s cheek.

  “Awww, she’s giving you love,” Margaret said. “Where’s your camera—we ought to get a picture of that.”

  ****

  Fifteen minutes later, Savannah said, “Well, that’s all we can do in the kitchen at this point. Thanks for the help, ladies—that pea salad looks wonderful, Erin.” She glanced around at everyone. “Are you ready to go caroling?”

  “Yes!” almost everyone shouted.

  Max sang out rather loudly, “Me, me, me.”

  “What are you doing?” Margaret asked, frowning.

  “Tuning my vocal chords,” he explained.

  “Won’t do any good,” she said sarcastically. She turned to the others. “He can cook, but he can’t carry a tune.”

  The eager group of carolers slipped into their coats and mittens, piled into two cars, and drove toward Sutter Street. Once Michael had parked, Marissa, who sat in the backseat with Lily and Erin, announced quietly, “I have a secret.”

  “What?” Savannah asked, craning her neck to peer at the girl.

  A sheepish look on her face, Marissa opened her jacket revealing the little white kitten.

  “Well, Angel; so you hitched a ride, did you?” Savannah said. “Jackets can hide a lot of secrets, can’t they?” She grinned mischievously at Marissa. “I have a secret, too.”

  “What?” Marissa asked.

  Savannah lifted something off the floorboards and held it up for Marissa to see.“Rags!” she shouted, and everyone began to laugh.

  “Well, I, too, have a secret,” Michael said rather dramatically.

  “What?” Savannah asked, a puzzled look on her face. “Are Buffy, Walter, and Lexie in the back?”

  “No,” he said, motioning toward the sidewalk in front of them. “Look who’s here.”

  When Marissa, Erin, and Savannah peered through the car windows, they were indeed surprised. There, standing together on the curb, songbooks in hand, were Detective Craig and his wife Iris, Shelly, Savannah’s sister Brianna and her beau Bud, and several friends including Colbi and Damon and Charlotte and her family.

  “Well, this is a surprise,” Savannah said, smiling. “We’re going to startle the neighbors with this many voices.” She dabbed at her eyes and waved at the others as she climbed out of the car, leading Rags on his leash.

  Marissa, her kitten in her arms, rushed to greet Craig.

  “How are you, hon?” he asked. “Having a good Christmas?”

  “The best,” she said, “thanks to you…and Rags…and Ms. Savannah.” She looked around her. “Thanks to everyone,” she said, gratefully.

  Craig put one arm around Marissa and hugged her to him. “What song do you want to sing first?” he asked her as she stood leaning against him.

  “‘Away in a Manger?’” Iris suggested.

  “Okay,” Marissa said. “Shall I start?”

  “Let me find it in this book,” Margaret said.

  “I think it’s toward the front,” Brianna suggested.

  Just then a soft, melodic voice rang out, “Awayyy in a manger, no crib for a bed. The little Lord Jesus lay down His sweet head. The stars in the bright sky looked down where He lay. The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay. Sing, you guys,” Marissa instructed.

  But no one wanted to spoil the moment or the lovely sound of her pure, clear voice. When she continued to urge them, however, they all joined in.

  “It’s another Christmas miracle,” Marissa said once the song had ended. She pointed. “Look.”

  From every direction, they saw people coming out of their homes and apartments bundled up in jackets and wearing knit caps. Some had blankets wrapped around their shoulders. First a few children appeared, then an elderly couple, and more children. An entire family walked down from their porch into their yard. A young couple with a baby in a blanket sat on a balcony. A few men and women stood at their windows and in their doorways. Marissa said, “Sing, everyone, let’s sing. Can we sing ‘Silent Night’?”

  Together, the group of carolers, some of them sharing song books, sang a stirring rendition of “Silent Night,” Marissa, with her eyes closed in reverence. When she opened them, she saw that many of her former neighbors were also singing. They cheered at the end of the song. Was it because of the song or because it was snowing again? “‘White Christmas,’ everyone!” Marissa shouted and they broke into Bing Crosby’s famous song.

  Savannah and Shelly waved when they saw Marcus and Charm among the neighbors who had gathered. “Sing!” Shelly shouted to them.

  “‘Rudolph,’” one of the children on a porch called out. And they sang it all together, voices from every direction joining in. Few of the carolers even noticed Craig leave halfway through the song. When he returned a few moments later, however, he wore a Santa hat and carried a tote bag, which he handed to Erin. “Would you girls like to share these with the kids?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Marissa said, handing Angel to her grandfather. She took one side of the bag Erin held, as Craig reached in and pulled out a handful of candy canes. Some of the other carolers also grabbed at the candy and handed the canes to eager children and a few adults.

  As the carolers mingled with the folks from the neighborhood, young kids took turns petting Rags, who strolled among them at the end of his leash. Some of them noticed Angel peering out from Roland’s jacket pocket and petted her little head. A couple of women hugged Marissa when they recognized her as the missing girl.

  “Craig,” Savannah said, when she saw him standing off to the side, watching the activity with a smile on his face, “what did you find out about the scheme Esse and those Cotton nephews were involved in?”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, it seems that Esse was financing the care of some of the children at the Cottons’ place so he’d have access to them.” When she looked shocked, he said, “Yeah, Marissa wasn’t the only victim in that house. Some of the other kids were exploited and abused as well. It appears that Gabriel Sanchez was simply a drugged-up enabler as far as his daughter was concerned. And the nephews weren’t actually related. Their room and board was part of the deal the Cottons made with Esse.”

  “Where’d he get his money?” Savannah asked, crinkling her nose.

  He grinned at her. “From that pot-growing operation you spotted and from other perverts who were into the same sick stuff.” He leaned c
loser to Savannah and spoke quietly, “Good news: Marissa wasn’t violated—the creep was into some sort of weird torture stuff. He likes holding children hostage and perpetrating torture on them and photographing them, but he didn’t…you know…violate her or the boy.”

  “Thank God for that,” Savannah said.

  Craig then stood straight, smiled broadly, and said, “But let’s not think about that today, shall we?” He grabbed Savannah’s arm. “Let’s celebrate all the good in the children today.” He called out. “How about one last song?”

  As the carolers gathered with their songbooks, an elderly man on crutches shouted, “Can we sing ‘Let There Be Peace?’”

  “Oh, do we have that song?” Marissa asked. “Anyone know the words?”

  “I do,” Iris said. “It’s in this book.”

  “I have an idea,” Craig said. “I’ll read the words and you all sing them after me.” He looked around, asking, “Is that okay?”

  “Perfect,” Savannah said.

  “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me,” they sang. When they finished, Michael glanced around, noticing there were few dry eyes. “I think we need to do an encore,” he suggested quietly.

  The carolers looked up and noticed some of the people moving toward them—neighbors from around the block and down the street had heard the commotion and walked out to see what was going on. “Come join us!” Craig called out. “Let’s do another round, shall we?”

  At his invitation, the stragglers moved more quickly toward the large gathering. Just then, it seemed that everyone froze. Craig glanced around and noticed that a sheriff’s car had pulled into the neighborhood. When it stopped, Craig waved and approached it. “We’re not disturbing the peace are we?” he asked, peering through the open window at Deputy Jim and Deputy Ben.

  “No,” Jim said. “We’re just out on patrol.” He scanned the area with his eyes. “Detective, what are you doing out here, anyway? Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is more than okay. Stick around, guys and experience the miracle on Sutter Street,” he said with a wink. Then rejoining the other carolers, he held up the song book and spoke the lines loudly as everyone within hearing distance sang, “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me. Let there be peace on earth, the way it was meant to be, with God as our father, brothers all are we. Let me walk with my brother in perfect harmony. Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me…”