Cats in the Belfry (A Klepto Cat Mystery Book 24)

by Patricia Fry

  “Wow! I’ll have to pick up something to send them.” She sat in contemplation for a moment. “Well, I guess if the timing’s right and the perfect person comes along…”

  He interrupted her. “And what about Marci?”

  She frowned. “What about her?”

  “You told me just recently that you sense she’s hiding something from her husband and the world at large. Marci and Eric seem happy. Don’t you think so?”

  She shook her head. “Oh, Michael, I still think there’s something lurking there. I just hope she can come to terms with her demons before something awful happens.”

  He squinted in her direction. “Where do you get this stuff?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m just observant.”

  He grinned. “And you have a big imagination.”

  When he noticed her rather absentmindedly rubbing her wrist, he asked, “Something wrong with your arm? It’s not swelling, is it?” He looked down at her legs. “Are your ankles swelling? You had that water-retention problem toward the end of your pregnancy with Lily.”

  She shook her head. “No, I was just thinking about my charm bracelet.” She cringed. “The one you gave me last year for Mother’s Day.”

  “What about it?” he asked.

  Just then, Lily ran to Michael. She leaned against his knee while looking at Savannah. “Mommy’s bracelet all gone.”

  Savannah chuckled. “Yes, we’ve looked everywhere for it, haven’t we, sweetie?”

  Lily nodded, then walked to the kitchen door and tried to open it.

  “No, honey bun, we’re not going outside to look for it now. It’s going to be dark soon, and dinner’s just about ready.”

  “What happened to it?” Michael asked. “How did you lose it? Did it fall off?” He frowned. “That clasp wasn’t faulty, was it? The price I paid for it, it shouldn’t be.”

  “No. I wore it this afternoon when I took Lily on a playdate with Alicia and Crissy. You know, Lily likes me to tell the stories behind the charms, so I took it off later while the two of us sat on the porch soaking up the last of the afternoon sunshine. And we were talking about each of the charms.”

  “Did you drop it through the slats on the porch?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. When Lily got tired of the stories, I set the bracelet on that small mosaic table and we took a walk around the yard.” Savannah giggled. “She likes to count the fruit on the trees in the orchard.” She ran her hand over the toddler’s hair. “We had to go check the corral.”

  “Horsie all gone,” Lily said, a worried look on her little face.

  “Yeah, she misses Peaches too.” Savannah smiled. “But Bonnie says she’s doing great there at the stables. Bonnie’s riding her a lot.” She paused. “Anyway, when we came back to the porch…”

  “It was gone, huh?” Michael said. “Did you check Rags’s stash?”

  “No. Rags didn’t go out with us. I purposely left him inside. I was ready for a break from him; he was kind of naughty this afternoon. Anyway, yeah, when we were ready to come back inside, I started to pick up the bracelet, but it was gone.”

  He cocked his head. “Are you sure Rags didn’t somehow get out there and take it?”

  She shook her head. “No. He watched us from his window perch, complaining the whole time. I could see his mouth going…meow, meow.” She chuckled. “But, no. It wasn’t Rags this time. I guess it could have fallen off the table or Lily dropped it on the porch, but we looked all over that deck. Michael, it would be a real long shot if it fell between the boards, because those spaces are so narrow.” She grimaced. “No Michael, that bracelet has flat disappeared. I just can’t imagine what could have happened to it, unless a squirrel squirreled it away.”

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you. Let’s hope it shows up.”

  “Mommy’s bunny all gone,” Lily said, looking down at her shoes.

  “Mommy’s bunny?” Michael asked.

  “That’s her favorite charm—a little bunny my aunt gave me,” Savannah explained.

  Lily nodded, then said, “Mommy’s blue birdie all gone.”

  Savannah picked up Lily and put her on her lap. “Yes, and the little heart Daddy gave me, the Christmas tree, the baby booties…it’s all gone. But we’ll find it.” She stood with Lily in her arms. “How about let’s get you washed up for supper, shall we?”

  Once the couple and their daughter were seated around the table eating the meal Savannah had prepared, Michael asked, “So you think the teacher is snobbish…unapproachable?”

  “Yes, kind of.”

  “Do you think that will hamper your ability to learn from her?”

  After some thought, Savannah said, “I don’t think so. At least I hope not. I’m rather eager to go back to school, actually. I think it will be a good experience for me.” She giggled. “I just hope I can keep a straight face during Char’s lectures.”

  “Char?”

  “Yes, Char Lorraine, the tattooed, purple haired, aloof teacher.”

  Michael laughed. “It sounds like your rendition of her would make a good story. You could write it for one of your class assignments.”

  Grinning, Savannah said, “Yeah, right! That would leave a good impression.” She shook her head. “Naw, I’d better stick to my original plan and work on Rags’s memoirs. It’ll be challenging enough trying to capture his personality in words and make his crazy exploits interesting to read about.”

  Chapter 2

  The following morning as she climbed into Margaret’s Jeep Liberty, Savannah smiled and asked, “How are your new boarders, Auntie?”

  “Doing well. Michael agreed with us that the cats are in pretty good shape, considering. We plan to bathe them this afternoon. Then we’ll wait for the test results to come back. One litter is almost old enough to move on and some of the volunteers want to put little bows on their heads and promote them for Easter.”

  “Cute.” Savannah narrowed her eyes. “But you’ll maintain your strict adoption policy, won’t you? And you’ll have them spayed and neutered before you adopt them out. I mean, you won’t let them go to people who just want a cute Easter gift for their child, will you?”

  “Of course not.” Margaret glanced at her niece. “Michael said we should have two more litters by midweek. And all of the momma cats seem to be calm enough to adopt out. So far so good with the seminary colony.”

  “Let’s don’t count our kittens before they’re hatched.” Savannah giggled. “Or something like that.” She changed the subject. “Did I tell you I’m going back to school?”

  “No,” Margaret said. “Why?”

  “I’m taking a writing class to help me write Rags’s memoirs.”

  Margaret laughed. “I still can’t believe you’re going to do that.”

  “Yes I am. But it’s sure taxing my memory. I’m eager to start talking to people who can help me recall some of the incidents I’ve forgotten about. So far, I just have a whole bunch of notes and I’m not sure where to begin.”

  “Maybe from the beginning,” she offered. When Savannah didn’t respond, Margaret suggested, “Once upon a time a kitten was born. Not just any kitten, but a kitten that would become one of the world’s most disobedient, mischievous, impish…”

  “Now, Auntie,” Savannah scolded. She thought for a moment and said, “But yeah, something like that might work. Good idea.”

  “So how much are you paying the teacher?”

  “It’s one-fifty for a four-week course.”

  Margaret held out her hand, palm up. “You can give me fifty dollars for my great advice and scratch the class.”

  Savannah smirked playfully at her aunt.

  “Got your gloves?” Margaret asked as she parked the car inside the ramshackle construction fence that surrounded the seminary.

  “Yup. So what will we do today?”

  Margaret looked out through the windshield. “Well, I’d like to take a count again and see if we spot any
cats we didn’t see yesterday.” She lurched forward. “Look, there are some cats. I’m sure there are some in that group we haven’t seen.” She picked up her clipboard and pen. “A long-haired pointed cat—probably the dad to the two older kittens we rescued yesterday—a couple of orange tabbies, a solid grey, and a larger black-and-white cat. Right, Vannie? The black-and-white we logged yesterday was smaller, wasn’t it?”

  “I think so. Yes. Did you write them all down?”

  “Uh-huh. Oops,” Margaret said, staring toward the building. “Most of them just ran into the crawl hole. That seems to be their safe place.” She grimaced. “I just hope there are no kittens under there. We’ll never get them out.”

  “We have time. I mean, demolition is several months away. We can probably trap them.”

  “Yeah, unless they’re too little to crawl out. Vannie, I don’t want to leave any cat or kitten behind.”

  “Of course not. We can bring Rags out here—you know, to ferret out any that we may have missed or that can’t come out by themselves.” She paused. “And since they’re going to demolish the place anyway, it’s probably okay if we cut holes in the floor to rescue them if we have to.”

  Margaret nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.”

  Savannah faced her aunt. “See, you rely on Rags too. Maybe you’d better not be using your snarky tone about him anymore,” she teased.

  Margaret ignored the remark, stepped out of the car, and studied the crawl hole. “And maybe we can get Luke to go in there and shine a light around before we end this project, just to make sure we’ve found them all.”

  Savannah nodded as she climbed out of the car and the two of them moved toward the feeding station. “Food’s all gone.”

  “Yeah, they were hungry.”

  “And they dumped their water,” Savannah said. “We’d better invest in some sturdier water bowls—like those straight-sided pottery bowls they use in rabbit cages.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Margaret said. “I prefer something larger—you know, wider, so their whiskers don’t get scrunched while they’re eating and drinking. Did you read that article I sent you the other day about whisker relief bowls?”

  “Yes. It’s something I hadn’t thought of before. Had you ever heard of whisker fatigue?”

  “No. But I guess it’s a reality. Some cats just have sensitive whiskers.”

  “I’ve already changed out the plastic bowls we once used, because Walter was starting to get chin acne.”

  “I’ve heard of cats with that problem,” Margaret said. “Who knew that cats had so many issues with their food and water bowls?”

  “Well, it’s not really natural for cats to eat off of fine china,” Savannah reminded her. “Their wild ancestors certainly didn’t have that luxury—or that complication.”

  Margaret nodded, then said, “Okay, I’ll put bowls on the list.”

  “Oh, look.” Savannah pointed toward the building.

  “What?” Margaret asked.

  “I thought I saw a pair of eyes peeking out at us.” When Margaret looked confused, she said, “Through that boarded-up window. See the spaces between the wood pieces? Look just to the right.”

  Margaret squinted toward the window. “I don’t see anything. Must have been your imagination.”

  “No,” Savannah argued. “I saw it. I’m sure it was a cat face—at least I’m pretty sure. Auntie, I believe there’s a cat in the building.”

  “Can’t be. Max’s friend said the place is locked up and all the cats are outside.”

  “I’m sorry, Auntie, but I beg to differ. There’s at least one cat inside and I think we’d better let it out. If he’s locked in there, he could starve to death.”

  Margaret stared at the window again, then finally said, “Well, I vote no. I didn’t see a cat. Vannie, I think it was a figment of your imagination.”

  “We vote to go check it out,” Savannah said defiantly.

  “We?” Margaret asked, frowning.

  Savannah rubbed her baby bump. “Yes, we. I have two votes.” Suddenly she hissed, “There it is again. Look, Auntie. A black cat. You can see it clearly when the sun catches his eyes. Did you see that?”

  “Well, I caught a glimpse of what could have been something. Black, huh? We don’t have any black cats on our inventory list. Maybe we ought to go inside and check it out.”

  Savannah stood with her hands on her hips and scoured the building. “But you don’t think there’s a way in, huh?”

  “From what I understand, there isn’t. But if there’s a cat in there, I guess that information is wrong.”

  “They could be getting in from underneath,” Savannah suggested, “like they were out at the old Fischer building. Remember that?”

  Margaret rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t remind me. Gads, let’s hope this rescue operation goes more smoothly than that one did.” She looped her arm in her niece’s. “Well, come on. Let’s go find out if there’s a way inside, shall we?”

  “Yeah, without having to go through the crawl hole.”

  The women had walked more than halfway around the building, trying every door and testing the boards across every ground-floor window, when they noticed a small entrance directly below the bell tower, almost hidden by a massive vine.

  “Now that’s odd.” Margaret felt some of the tendrils that wove through the lattice partition. “It’s alive—a living plant.” She glanced around at the mostly dead shrubs growing here and there, then examined the foot of the green plant. “Someone must be watering this thing.”

  “Probably your friend, Andy,” Savannah said. “Maybe this was the entrance to his room when he was staying here. He wanted it to look nice.”

  Margaret huffed. “It’s more like he—or someone else—wanted to hide this doorway. Well, we found it. Let’s see if it’s open.” She added over her shoulder, “If not, we may have to break it down.” Margaret grasped the old worn knob, turned it, and tugged until the door creaked wide open. “Oh, good. Let’s go see if we can find that cat.”

  “Do you suppose this is how he got in here?” Savannah asked, stepping inside.

  “I doubt it. It was closed. If he found his way in on his own, it had to be from under the building, like you said. We’ll have to search for a hole in the floorboards.” Margaret looked around. “This must have been the laundry room and furnace room—a sort of basement, but on the ground floor.”

  Savannah nodded. She glanced in all directions. “Shall we go see if we can find the cat?”

  “Yeah. Got the flashlight?”

  “Yes. Got the inventory sheet?”

  “Check,” Margaret said.

  The women had walked through nearly the entire lower floor of the structure when they finally saw a cat.

  “There she is!” Savannah exclaimed. “That’s the black cat I saw; and it appears she has kittens. Yeah, good place for them—inside out of the cold.” She spoke to the cat, which stood across the room, looking suspiciously at the intruders. “We’re not going to hurt your babies. Where are they?” She gazed around the room. “In that box of straw?”

  “Kittens in a manger,” Margaret said, chuckling.

  The two women moved closer to the cardboard box and Savannah continued to croon, “We just want to see your babies, pretty kitty.” But before they reached the makeshift manger, the cat jumped up into it and began to hiss.

  “Vannie, stand back. Let me see if I can get closer,” Margaret said. “She might be less frightened with just one of us coming toward her.”

  “Makes sense,” Savannah said, retreating into the shadows while shining the light for her aunt.

  As Margaret drew nearer to the litter, the black cat leaped out of the box, sat on the floor below it, and continued to hiss. “Awww, aren’t they cute? They’re about five weeks old, I’d guess.” She made notes on her inventory sheet. “They’re all black. That’s odd. Three all-black kittens.” She glanced around, then looked down at the mother cat. “Are there more of your k
ind in here?”

  “Well, there must be—she didn’t get pregnant all by herself,” Savannah said. She lighted the area around her. “This must have been the registration area for students.”

  “Yes.” Margaret agreed. She pointed. “There are the kitchen and dining room.”

  “Classrooms must be upstairs.”

  “Classrooms?” Margaret questioned.

  “Yes. Isn’t a seminary a school—a religious school? They would have classrooms, wouldn’t they? And maybe living quarters.” Savannah shined the light to the left. “That’s where we see all those small windows from outside. I’ll bet the boarders’ rooms are down that long hallway. Have you ever been in here, Auntie—I mean when it was up and running?”

  She shook her head. “No, but Iris’s mother was a cook out here. She used to tell some interesting stories about this place.” Margaret faced her niece. “We’ll have to ask Iris what she remembers.” She then suggested, “Well, while we’re in here, let’s look around, shall we?”

  “Okay.” Savannah walked into the hallway. “I want to see what the students’ rooms were like.” Upon entering the first room, she said, “Oh, that’s disappointing. This room’s empty. I wanted to see the old furniture.” The women soon discovered that all dozen of the small rooms along the west hallway were empty.

  “Not even a shoe, a hanky, or a hanger left in the closets,” Margaret remarked, opening one of the accordion doors.

  “And some of the closets don’t even have doors,” Savannah noticed. She then suggested, “Let’s take the stairs and see what we can find up there. I definitely want to check for more cats.”

  Once they’d started to ascend the staircase, Margaret warned, “Be careful, Vannie. Some of the steps are kind of rickety. In fact, why don’t you go ahead of me, since you have the light?”

  When Savannah stepped onto the second-floor landing, she yelped and pointed. “Black cats—two of them.”

  “Where?” Margaret asked, joining her on the landing.

  “At the end of the hall. I don’t see them now; they must have darted into one of the rooms.” She began walking faster. “Let’s go.” Several seconds later, Savannah stood in the middle of a small room, shining the flashlight around.