by Patricia Fry
Margaret stared at the house. “So someone who liked the cats made it so they could sneak in secretly without being seen? That’s kinda crazy, don’t you think?”
Iris let out a sigh. “Another unbelievable aspect to this place.” She shook her head. “So how are we going to chase them out of the walls so we can close off access? How will we know when they’re all out of there?”
“And once they’re outside,” Margaret said, “where will they go for shelter?”
“They can still go into the drainpipe,” Savannah said. “But you’re right, we can’t close off their route into the house until we know all the cats are out of the walls. No cat should be left behind.”
Iris grimaced. “I guess we’ll have to break into that section of wall. Gads, I hate to do that, after all our work.”
“I imagine that’s the only way, don’t you?” Savannah asked.
“I guess so.” Iris thinned her lips, then said, “What the heck; this won’t be our first—or probably our last—setback on this project. We’ll work through it.” She narrowed her eyes and added, “But I’m not sure I trust the work crew to do that job. I doubt any of them knows how to work around cats.” Iris turned to Savannah and asked in a pleading tone, “Do you think Michael would help us with this delicate problem? Him, I would trust. We’ve gotta do this right or I’ll have Melody on my case.”
“Along with the Hammond Cat Alliance, the Humane Society…” Margaret started.
Savannah gave her aunt a disapproving look, then nodded for Iris’s benefit. “Sure, I’ll ask him. When would you like to do it?”
“The sooner the better. Hey, Melody will be out of town for a few days. Do you think Michael could come over tomorrow evening?”
“I’ll ask him. Probably.”
Margaret put her hands up to her mouth and took a few steps back. “You guys could be opening a whole can of worms, you know?”
“What do you mean, Maggie?” Iris asked.
“You start tearing into a former mobster’s hideout and you never know what you’re going to find.”
Savannah and Iris stared at her for a moment, then Iris said, “Oh, Maggie, you watch too many of those police shows.”
Chapter 5
“So we’re pretty sure we found how the cats are getting into the attic,” Savannah said while she and Michael finished a late dinner at home that evening. “Would you believe, it’s through a drainpipe that appears to run under that berm where the cats hang out behind the house? Someone must have built a ramp or a staircase inside the walls, and into the attic, where the cats could be safe and warm without stepping a paw in the house.”
“Hmmm. Interesting. I wonder who that was and why they didn’t use a more conventional method.”
“Iris’s boss told us her father didn’t like cats—didn’t want them in the house—so we think her mother might have had this work done to protect the cats.”
He shrugged.
“Michael, you said you’ve been to the Kaiser house before, right?”
“Yeah, two or three months ago. I think it was shortly after Melody Plumb came here to deal with the estate when her mother died. That’s when she found the cats out among the trees. She trapped some of them and asked me to come out and look them over—maybe spay and neuter them. But when I saw the tipped ears, I knew someone had already taken care of that.”
“I think that was Betty and Edie from the cat alliance.”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, I guess I’d seen those cats before, then, when Betty and Edie brought them in. But yeah, I saw the house. We moved a few of the cats inside that day in case they got away from us before I’d completed the examinations.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to believe that old mansion could become a showplace again. How’s it developing under Iris’s charge?”
“Very nicely. There’s still plenty to do, but it’s really shaping up. Iris is doing a spectacular job.” Savannah set her fork on her plate. “Michael, Iris wants you to see about getting the cats out of the walls so we can close up their entrance.”
Taken aback, he quickly asked, “Why me? She has a work crew at her disposal, doesn’t she?”
Savannah nodded. “But she trusts you as an animal person and a builder.” She asked pleadingly, “Would you at least go out there and see what you think is the best way to remove the cats safely? It occurred to me that maybe our conclusion isn’t even correct. Maybe they aren’t traveling to and from the attic through the walls. We really need your professional opinion.”
“Okay, when?” he asked.
She tilted her head rather coyly, her blond highlighted hair brushing across one shoulder. “Tomorrow after work?”
****
“So you’re off for Rags’s photo shoot today?” Michael asked his wife Wednesday morning over breakfast.
“Yes. Did I tell you my aunt’s going with me? She’s bringing some of her cats for their photo debut.” Savannah laughed. “She’s so excited; you’d think she was the mother of a budding beauty queen.”
Michael chuckled as he stood to refill his coffee cup. “I can just imagine. Your aunt likes being in the middle of things like that.” He sat down and looked across the table at her. “She enjoys having those bragging rights, doesn’t she?”
Savannah laughed. “Oh yes. I can see her stopping everyone in the grocery store or at church, saying, ‘Hello, I’m Maggie. My cats are famous characters in a series of children’s books.’” She rolled her eyes. “Michael, I’ll bet she called me eight times asking all of the ‘what if’ questions. She doesn’t want to leave anything to chance, although, she knows as much about what to expect as I do—which is nothing, really. It’ll be new for both of us.”
“Hi, Rags,” Michael said when he saw the lanky cat saunter into the kitchen.
Lassie, who was sleeping in Lexie’s bed, raised her head and watched as the cat walked to his kibbles bowl and took a few bites. When Rags began his lick-bath, the dog lowered her head and went back to sleep.
“Looks like he’s washing up for his debut as a children’s book character,” Michael said, chuckling. He then said to Lily. “No-no, punkin. That food’s for you, not the kitties and doggies.”
“Oh,” Savannah said, noticing the toddler was dropping chunks of fruit onto the floor, “finished eating? Let’s go get you cleaned up. You’re going to play with Bradley and maybe Jill today at Barbara’s house. Want to go play with kids today while Mommy takes our kitty bye-bye?”
“Play?” Lily said. “Babies?”
“Yes, you’re going to play with other babies today.” She lifted the toddler from the high chair and placed her on the floor.
“Wow-wow,” Lily said, pointing at Lassie. She squatted down so she was at eye level with the dog. “Wow-wow!”
Savannah took the toddler by the hand. “Let’s go have a bath. Tell Daddy bye-bye.”
“’Bye, punkin,” he said, scooping her up and hugging her to him before placing her back on the floor.
“Bye-bye,” Lily said, waving one hand in the air as Savannah led her toward the hallway. “Bath?” she chirped
“Yes, let’s get your bath.”
“Duckie bath,” Lily said.
“Yes, you can have a bath with your duckie.”
At that, Lily broke away from Savannah and raced through the dining room and living room and down the hallway into the bathroom. “Bath!” she shouted.
****
An hour later, Savannah pulled her car into her aunt’s driveway.
“Kitty!” Lily said loudly when she saw Margaret pick up a carrier and tote it to the car. “Kitty!” Lily said. She then pointed into the back of the car. “Kitty!”
“Yes, there are kitties everywhere, aren’t there?” Savannah said. “Auntie’s putting her kitty in the car with our kitty.” When Margaret stepped into the front passenger seat with her tangerine faux Persian in her arms, Savannah said, “And there’s another kitty.” She addressed h
er aunt, “So who all did you bring? I see you have sweet Layla there. No carrier for the princess?”
“Oh no, she’s fine on my lap. She should be a dream to photograph—this one,” Margaret said, running her hand over the cat’s lush fur. “She’s so agreeable.” She motioned toward the back of the car. “I brought Jack, too. He should photograph nicely, don’t you think so? His markings are unique.”
“Yeah, and he’s personable.” Savannah laughed. “Layla is super adaptable and Jack is a character—he has purr-sonality.”
“And then there’s Rags,” Margaret said, laughing.
“Yeah? Well, he has experience,” Savannah said. “He’s a seasoned actor.”
“Pshaw, Vannie. He’s about as unpredictable as they come.”
“Oh, don’t remind me. I’m counting on a lovely morning with him cooperating to the fullest.”
“Good luck with that,” Margaret said, trying not too hard to hide a snicker.
“Play baby,” Lily said from the backseat.
“Yes, you’re going to play with some babies today, aren’t you?” Savannah said.
“She’s not going to the photo shoot?”
“No. Don’t you think we have enough to handle without a busy toddler to keep track of, too?”
“Where are you taking her?” Margaret asked.
“To Barbara’s little day care.”
Margaret smiled back at Lily. “Oh good. Does she enjoy going there?”
“Seems to,” Savannah said. Upon arriving at the day care, she suggested, “Auntie, would you stay with the menagerie? I’ll just be a minute.”
“Sure,” Margaret said. “’Bye, sweet pea,” she called out to Lily as Savannah carried her toward Barbara’s home. “Have fun playing with the babies.”
About ten minutes later, Savannah pulled into a parking space in front of a photography studio. “This must be the place,” she said. “Oh there’s Rob. Hi,” she called as she stepped out of the car.
“Hi. Got cats?” he asked, walking toward her and peering into the car windows. “Hi, Maggie,” he said when he saw her open the passenger side door and step out with Layla in her arms. “Pretty cat.”
“Thanks. I brought a black-and-white one, too,” she announced.
“Cool,” Rob said. “Can I help carry them?”
“Here, take Jack’s carrier,” Savannah suggested. “I’ve got Rags.”
Once inside, the two women stood stunned. “Oh, my gosh,” Savannah said, “this is amazing. This is the scenery for the book?”
Rob nodded. “Yes, specially created for this project. We also have a variety of props: a stool, ladder, pedestal, potted plant, kitty bed, cat toys, children’s toys, and,” he winked, “things Rags might want to carry around in his mouth. We should be able to shoot what we need for the first three books today. I have a team working on props and backdrops for the next three. As you can see, the first few stories take place in a home environment.”
“Yeah, I see a bedroom, bathroom, living room, kitchen,” Margaret said. “…and a garden. This is way cool. The background is so colorful and fun—looks kind of cartoonish—but the cats will be real? ”
“Yes,” he said. He called, “Where’s my photographer?”
“Here,” a middle-aged man said, entering the studio with a camera.
“Douglas, this is Maggie and Savannah. It looks as if they’ve brought three cat subjects for us today. Can you work with this fluffy yellow cat?” He peered into Margaret’s carrier. “…and a black-and-white. He appears to be a semi-long-hair. And the guy wearing the harness is Rags, the star of the show.”
“Yeah,” Douglas said. “The colors are good. So where do you want me to start?”
“You know the storyline. Just try to capture the cats in some of the scenarios we discussed.”
“Why don’t we turn the cats loose?” Savannah said. “The room is secure, isn’t it?”
Douglas nodded.
Savannah glanced around. “I get some of my best shots when I just let the cat move naturally through the background. I shoot around him, rather than trying to make him do what I want him to do,” she explained.
“Sounds reasonable,” Rob said. “And you can manipulate the photos can’t you, Douglas?”
“You mean, shoot the cat and add the background later?” he asked. “Yeah, I can do that.”
After removing Rags’s harness, Savannah held up a couple of plastic wands with feathers dangling from the end. “I brought these. They might help draw the cats’ attention to wherever you want it.” When Douglas looked confused, she explained, “Let’s say you want Rags to look at that ladybug on that flower prop. We can just wiggle the feather above it like this,” she said, demonstrating as she spoke. “And voila!”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Rob said gleefully as he watched Douglas snap a few shots of Rags leaping after the feather. He slapped the photographer on the back. “Good, then let’s get started. If I know cats—which I don’t—they probably have a short interest span.”
Savannah and Margaret nodded.
“Just let them go,” Rob instructed, watching as Margaret placed Layla on the floor and released Jack from his carrier.
“Stay back for now, ladies,” Douglas said, putting his camera up to his eye and snapping a few pictures. “Awesome,” he said when he checked the camera screen. “Lighting’s good. Contrast is good.” He changed position and took a few shots of Layla peering out from under a colorful step stool and Rags sniffing noses with her. He took a series of shots of Rags and Jack walking side by side in front of a garden scene. “Perfect,” he announced.
“Get Rags with that hammock behind him,” Rob said, pointing. After a few moments, he said, “Savannah, want to entice him to look through that window? Maybe you can use your wand-toy thingy.”
“Sure.” Everyone laughed when Rags leaped after the feather she dangled.
“Great!” Douglas said. “Just what I wanted.”
“Can you get the black cat in there with him—what’s his name, Jack?”
“Sure,” Margaret said, enticing him with a second feather toy.
“Love it,” Rob said when Rags and Jack both reached for the same feather. “Looks like they’re dancing!”
The photo shoot kept the cats busy and the people entertained for several minutes before Layla eased out from under the stool.
“She has great eyes,” Douglas said, focusing on her and taking several shots.
The photographer began to follow Layla with the camera when Rob suddenly shouted,
“Get that! Quick, get that!”
When everyone looked in the direction he pointed, they saw Rags running across the room with an envelope in his mouth.”
Immediately, Douglas spun around and began shooting. After taking several shots, he chuckled and asked, “What is that? Where’d he get it?”
“Hell if I know,” Rob said. “This is your studio, man.”
At that, Douglas patted his slacks pockets. He rushed across the room to check his jacket pockets. “It’s mine!” he shouted, setting his camera on a nearby chair. “Get it before he chews it up, will you?”
“Or hides it,” Rob said with a straight face.
“Hides it? Oh no,” Douglas rushed toward the cat. When he reached for him, Rags darted out from under his grasp and continued racing around the room with the envelope in his mouth. “Get that from him!” Douglas hollered again. “Can’t someone catch him?”
When Savannah realized the man was freaking out, she moved toward the cat, reached for him, and missed him as Rags out-maneuvered her.
Laughing, Margaret walked across the room and tried to block Rags as Savannah stepped up behind him and reached for him again. Again, he avoided her grasp and darted to the other side of the room.
“That darn cat,” Douglas said under his breath. “What’s he think he’s doing?”
“What is that, anyway?”
Rob asked, trying to stifle his laughter.
“You don’t want to know,” Douglas said. “And I don’t think you want the cat eating it.”
At that, Savannah felt her hackles rise. “What is it—pot?” she asked, rather disgustedly.
Douglas shrugged. “Something like that.”
More determined now to catch Rags, Savannah used a strategy the cat had taught her over the years. She managed to corner him and nab him before he could dart away. Once Savannah had Rags in her grip, he dropped the envelope and Douglas grabbed it.
“Damn,” he said under his breath, as he began looking around the room. “He chewed a hole in it.”
When Rob noticed a white-powder trail leading across the studio to where Rags stood, he demanded to know, “Is that what I think it is?” When he saw the sheepish look on the photographer’s face, he quickly picked up Jack, who had followed Rags, and began brushing at his paw pads. “Grab those cats!” he shouted. “They may have stepped in that stuff. Clean their paws before they start licking.” As Savannah and Margaret quickly lifted Rags and Layla, Rob glared at Douglas. “Not cool, man. You could kill a cat with that stuff.”
Cowering off to the side, Douglas whined, “How’d I know a cat would do that?” He stared at the white-powder trail and said, “Do you know how much that stuff cost me? Damn cat!”
Savannah, who still held Rags in her arms, glowered at Douglas. Using one hand, she dug a package of baby wipes out of her oversized purse, handed one to Margaret, and they used them to clean the cats’ paws.
Once Jack was in his carrier, Rags in his harness, and Layla comfortable in Margaret’s arms, Rob looked scornfully at Douglas. “I’m going to help the ladies out with the cats. Clean that crap up and get a DVD ready for me, will you?”
As the trio left the studio, they heard a weak, “I’m sorry.”
No one responded.
“Do you think Rags got any of that stuff in his mouth?” Rob asked, concern in his tone.