by Patricia Fry
Savannah was quiet for a moment, then she asked, “Do you know if your friend Barbara ever lost a child?”
“What?!” Margaret almost shouted.
“It’s just that my two new friends, Jenna and Mary, look so much alike. I wondered if…”
“Stop it! Do you know how lame that sounds? No, I’m certain that if she’d had a child taken, I would have heard about it. You are simply jumping to the silliest conclusions, Vannie.” She sighed deeply. “Listen, you were gone yesterday—so maybe you don’t know. We’ve set the day…or I should say night…for the stakeout.”
“Oh, so the guy returned?”
“Yes, dammit. Two of the older cats went out. We found them inside the larger enclosure, but it was obvious they’d been out carousing. You know that big cat with all the fur? She was full of stickers from that old shrub we took out. Is Antonio going to get rid of that for us?”
“Oh yes. Sorry. I forgot to send him over.”
“So, can you make it tomorrow night? Dress warm in something dark so you can’t easily be seen.”
“Uh, yeah, I’m sure I can make it. What time?”
“Come around eight thirty.”
****
“You’re going to do what?” Michael asked the following evening over dinner.
“Try to identify the cat burglar,” she explained.
“Savannah, Savannah,” he said, blowing out a long breath and shaking his head slowly.
“What?” she asked innocently, an impish smile on her lips. “I won’t be alone—Iris will be there, Brianna, Colbi, Auntie. Just think of it as a hen party. You know we’re going to be gossiping and carrying on like we always do. The stakeout is simply one element we haven’t done before. It’s just a matter of getting a look at this guy once and for all.”
“Then you’ll call the sheriff?”
“Absolutely,” Savannah assured him.
****
By nine forty-five that night, the five women had taken their places for the unofficial stakeout in the Sheridans’ greenhouse turned cathouse. The wait was excruciating. It wasn’t easy for these women to be in such close proximity and remain silent. Each of them harbored various thoughts, most predominantly:
Why the hell did I volunteer for this boring job?
I gotta pee. I gotta pee. Shouldn’t have drunk that whole cup of tea.
That guy better come tonight, ‘cause I’m not doing this again.
And there were more frivolous thoughts:
Oh, I forgot to tell everyone about my latest thrift-store bargain. They’re gonna freak out when they see what I got for $19.95.
I miss my guy—I hope he feels frisky when I get home tonight.
Suddenly everyone froze, their busy minds focusing on the sound of the greenhouse door creaking open. The women saw a beam from a flashlight as the figure, dressed all in black, edged toward the cat pens. When he reached the first one, he placed the light on the floor, and that’s when the women became aware that he had bolt cutters in his hand. He raised them and began to cut the links on one side of the pen when Margaret shouted, “Secure the door, Iris!”
The figure spun around so fast that he dropped the bolt cutters and, being closest to where he stood, Savannah darted out from her hiding place and grabbed them before he could. She tossed them aside and then faced the cloaked figure, trying to decide what to do next. Just then, Margaret came around from behind Savannah and joined her. At the same time, Brianna raced toward them and stumbled, falling on all fours behind the intruder. Before she could get up, he began to retreat from Savannah and Margaret and he fell over Brianna onto the cement floor.
Savannah and Margaret jumped on him. “You damn creep!” Margaret screeched into his masked face.
Brianna struggled to get up, then joined her sister and their aunt, screaming, “You stepped on my fingers, you clumsy idiot!”
When Savannah saw that Colbi was frozen in place not knowing what to do, she called out, “Colbi, make the call! Make the call!”
“I’m calling,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Hello, sheriff,” she said, her voice two octaves higher than usual, “we caught the vandal here at the Sheridan place. Come and get him! Yes, we’re holding him down. Hurry!” She looked down at Margaret. “Hey, what’s your address? They want to know this address.”
“Well, hell,” she said, “35 Cranberry Way. Hurry!” she called out, hoping the dispatcher would hear her.
Just then, the intruder began to kick so hard that his body twisted and Margaret lost her grip. “Hold him!” Savannah shouted.
“I’m trying,” Brianna said as he twisted away from her. He stood and began swinging wildly at the women. Savannah didn’t have a choice. She had to turn him loose and get out of the way.
“Iris,” Margaret shouted. “Watch out—coming your way.”
When Iris saw him coming, she darted away from the door, which he easily opened before racing out into the night.
“What kind of car does he have?” Margaret shouted, as she, Brianna, and Savannah ran outside after him.
“Where’d he go?” Margaret asked. “Hit the floodlights!” she yelled.
“I’ll do it,” Savannah offered, rushing back inside and flipping the switch. When she rejoined the others outside the greenhouse, she asked, “Did you see which way he went?”
Brianna pointed. “Toward the highway, but I didn’t hear a car start.”
“Darn it,” Margaret said. “Did anyone get a look at his face? Who was that creep, anyway?”
Everyone shook their head. “He must have had a black mask on under that big hoodie,” Iris said.
“Or he’s black,” Brianna suggested. “Did anyone see skin?”
Everyone responded, “No.”
Just then they heard sirens.
“He got away,” Margaret said sullenly when she saw two officers exit the patrol car, each with a hand on their sidearm. She pointed. “He ran off in that direction.”
“Can you give us a description?” Deputy Ben asked.
Margaret shook her head as if in defeat. “No,” she said, “except to say that he was wearing a cloak-type coat with a hood like the grim reaper. It was probably a costume, actually.”
“Yeah,” Brianna said, “like that cloaked Walking Dead character.”
“I’ll bet that’s Michael,” Savannah said with a slight grin, retrieving her phone from her pocket. “Yes, we’re all just fine, hon. We caught him, but he got away before the sheriff could get here. He ran off toward the highway. No, we didn’t get a good look at him. Still don’t know who it is, but Bri thinks he’s from that Walking Dead show. Yeah. I’ll be home shortly. No worries.”
“Well, there may be one identifying mark,” Colbi said quietly, once Savannah had ended her call.
All eyes were on the petite woman.
“I got him with my diamond file as he ran out the door.”
“You did?” Margaret said. “Are you sure?”
“You stabbed him?” Officer Jim asked.
“Oh no. I was just holding it and he ran into it,” she said innocently.
Iris raised her hand for a high-five, punctuating it with “sistah!”
“All right,” Brianna said.
“Where did you—I mean, what part of him ran into it?” Ben asked, grinning a little.
“His left arm,” she said.
“Let me see that thing,” Jim said. “Mind if we take it in? There may be evidence left on it.”
Colbi nodded. “Sure. I have another one.”
“If we’re lucky,” Jim said, “we’ll be able to identify him. Now ladies,” he spoke more sternly.
Margaret cringed a little. “I know, I know.” Her tone accelerated as she continued, “But you guys aren’t doing anything and it’s our livelihood he’s messing with, and those cats’ lives.”
Jim sighed. “I understand. Truly I do. As you can see, we do take you seriously—we came as soon as we got the call. Magg
ie, please get a security guard out here, will you? You ladies go back to your homes and stay out of this. Let a professional take care of it.”
Margaret nodded. The women watched as the officers left in their squad car, then they stepped back into the house to finish their beverages.
“Hmph,” Brianna said, I thought we did a pretty good job, actually—we caught him, wrestled him down, and stabbed him. I doubt he’ll be back.”
“Are you sure he’s a man?” Iris asked, adding to her glass of red wine.
“No,” Margaret said.
“It’s a woman?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.
“I don’t know,” Margaret said, deferring to her nieces.
“Well, you should know—you had your hands all over his body,” Iris insisted. “Did he have…”
“Iris!” Savannah said, pouring wine into an empty glass. “We didn’t either have our hands all over his body.”
“Well, did he have boobs?” she asked,
Savannah, Brianna, and Margaret looked at each other. Brianna responded. “Actually, I don’t think so. No, I didn’t feel anything female…or otherwise,” she said laughing.
“And you, Dr. Brianna, know your anatomy,” Colbi said, placing her cup in the microwave to reheat her tea. She looked at her phone and laughed. “I have a great picture of you three. Check it out. I think I’ll put this on the front page of tomorrow’s newspaper.”
“Let me see that,” Margaret insisted, setting her wine glass on the kitchen counter. “Oh my Gawd, Colbi. Don’t even think about it. That’s awful. You can practically see my tonsils.”
Savannah looked over her aunt’s shoulder. “That’s hilarious. You look like some sort of kung-fu guy.”
“Well, look at you, Ms. Rodeo Queen,” Margaret responded.
Savannah looked more closely at the phone screen. “Gads, I do look like I’m riding a bull, don’t I? Gross!” She looked at her sister. “Bri, you…” she pointed at the phone screen and began to laugh.
“What?” Brianna said. “Tell me. Show me…” then she covered her eyes. “No, I don’t think I want to see. What were you doing taking pictures anyway, Colbi?” she asked.
“For your family album. This ought to at least go on Facebook for your mom and cousins to see,” she said, chuckling. She held her phone out toward Iris. “What do you think?”
“Oh that’s funny. Yes, definitely, Facebook,” she said doubling over laughing.
****
The following morning, Margaret called to tell Savannah, “Max is furious about what went down last night.”
“And you’re surprised about that?” Savannah asked. “He just can’t leave you alone, can he?” she teased.
“No. I’m glad he found that out. Maybe he won’t go away again and leave me with all the work. One of our volunteers didn’t show up today, so I had an extra load.”
“How’d you get time to call me?”
“Can’t a lady take a break?” Margaret asked, sarcastically.
“When is Max coming home?”
“Late today.”
“So what’s up?”
“Just mulling over what we did last night.” She chuckled. “I have to admit it really was kinda fun, don’t you think?”
Savannah hesitated. “You are such a rowdy. Fun? I’m sore this morning. I think that guy got me when he started kicking. I have a bruise on my shin.”
“Is that your only war wound?” Margaret asked. “I had to soak in a hot bath before I could even move this morning, I’m sore all over.”
“Oh, sorry to hear it.”
“Yeah, but it was fun while it lasted.”
“So did you call a security company?” Savannah asked.
“Not yet. But I will. I will. Hey, I wonder if I could get a job working for that company.”
“Are you kidding? Do you know what they do most of the time? Walk around, stand around, sit around. There’s rarely a rumble.”
“Then no thank you. So what are you doing today?”
“Mary and Crissy, Lily’s new best friend, are coming over. She was going to come later in the week, but things worked out for today and it’s warm enough that the girls can play out on the lawn.”
“Cool. What time are they coming?”
“Between eleven thirty and noon, why?”
“I just thought we’d do a little investigative work this morning.”
“What kind of investigative work?”
“You know, search for footprints, fingerprints, blood spatters…things like that.” When Savannah didn’t respond right away, Margaret said, “We might just find a clue as to who was here last night.”
“I guess I could come over for a few minutes. Is now good? Lily just finished her bath.”
“Okay, come on over.”
Savannah arrived to find Margaret kneeling just outside the greenhouse-turned-cathouse door. “Did you find something?” she asked as she removed the baby seat from the car and set it on the porch where Lily could watch them.
“Yeah, a shoeprint. Come look.”
“It’s rather nondescript, isn’t it?” Savannah asked. “No clear design on the sole of the shoe.”
“But look how big it is. It must belong to a tall man, don’t you think?”
After eyeing the print left in the mud, Savannah stepped into it with her right foot and smirked at her aunt. “That’s my shoeprint,” she said. “I must have made it when I ran out after the guy last night.”
“Well, drats!” Margaret spewed. She then pointed. “Is that your blond hair, too?”
“Where?” Savannah asked.
“Over there on that tree limb. See that clump of hair?”
“I see a few strands that may be hair,” Savannah said, examining it more closely. “Nope, not my hair.” She looked at it again. “Too light to be Colbi’s. Do you have any blond volunteers?”
Margaret shook her head. “Not that shade of blond and not all frizzy like that is.”
Savannah lowered her brow. “I didn’t see any blond hair on that…intruder last night, did you?”
Margaret shook her head. “But maybe the hood came off when he ran under that tree branch.” She faced Savannah. “Vannie, I think we’re dealing with a woman, after all.” She then said, “Hey, come on, let’s keep looking for clues.”
After another few minutes with no additional discoveries, Savannah said, “I’d better go. Mary could arrive any time and I want to put a batch of cookies in the oven.” She turned toward Margaret. “Auntie, why don’t you join us—even if for just a glass of tea or something? I really want you to meet Mary and see if you notice the resemblance. You met Barbara’s daughter Jenna at Lily’s party.” She hesitated, then added, “Well, you actually met Mary, too, but only briefly.”
“Yes, I don’t remember much about Mary, but Barbara’s daughter is a pretty thing—kinda reminds me of you with those light-green eyes and fair skin, only she’s not as tall, of course. Her little boy’s cute.”
“Yes, he is. So you’ll come over this afternoon?”
“Yeah, if I can get away. It’s a busy day and, as I said, we’re short-handed.”
“What happened to your volunteer—did she call in?”
“It’s a guy and, no, Sam just didn’t show up—something we don’t tolerate here and it’s not going to look good on his record. We have to keep a daily report for the courts.” She than sucked in a breath and said, “Back to work. Hey, I’ll probably see you later today.”
****
It was nearly three in the afternoon when Margaret arrived at Savannah’s. Mary was just gathering Crissy’s things and preparing to leave.
“Sorry I’m late,” Margaret apologized. “It’s been a hectic day. But I wanted to get over here and meet Lily’s new friend.”
Mary motioned toward the car seat still in the living room where baby Crissy was sleeping soundly. “I’m afraid she’s pooped.”
“Lily�
��s napping, too,” Savannah said. “They had a great time.” When Savannah realized that her aunt was staring at Mary while she continued to pack her carry bag, she hissed, “Auntie.”
“Uh…yes, well…” Margaret stammered. She reached her hand out to Mary. “It’s nice to meet you more…formally. Maybe we’ll get to visit next time you come out this way.”
Mary smiled. After visiting for a few more minutes, with Savannah’s and Margaret’s help, Mary packed her car and drove off.
“Wow!” Margaret said. “I’m speechless…and, as you know, I’m not usually speechless.”
She raised her eyebrows. “She could be Jenna’s twin—only her hair’s curly and a different shade of red, and she’s thinner. Otherwise—wow!”
“Yeah,” Savannah said, “Mary told me she had a health emergency earlier this year and lost some weight, which she hasn’t been able to put back on.”
Margaret was quiet for a moment, then said, “I’m going to ask around about Barbara. This is just too weird. Did you ask Mary about her father’s name?”
“Not really,” Savannah said. “Didn’t want to open a can of worms. It’s so far-fetched—like you said, too much of a coincidence. Besides, do I really want to be the one to insinuate that the man she considered her father may have kidnapped her? Oh no, that’s too touchy.” She took a breath. “But she did use that middle name again—Mullen. That’s what it is. I asked her about it this time and she said it’s a family name. I just left it at that.” Savannah paused, then asked, “So are you still ready to go check newspapers in nearby cities?”
Margaret thinned her lips as if in contemplation. “Well, let’s go at it from the other direction, first. Let me do some digging into Barbara’s past. Surely, if she had a child taken, someone close to her would know.”
“Okay. I’ll be eager to find out what you learn. Hey, any news about your cat burglar?”
Margaret shook her head. “But I’ve been thinking about who it could be. I don’t believe I told you that crazy cranky guy came walking by again the other day. I was outside cleaning litter boxes. He came up to me and started making all sorts of accusations about keeping cats in pens with fancy food and water, making them soft so they can’t hunt on their own, taking the cat out of the cat and turning them into worthless creatures. Oh my God, he was on a rampage.”