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Cattywampus Travels

Page 11

by Patricia Fry


  “What?” Savannah asked impatiently.

  Margaret leaned forward and said excitedly, “Well, I was thinking that if that woman took your cat, maybe she’s taken others. I wonder if we could go undercover and find out something about her and those cats she has. Vannie, didn’t you say she has fourteen of them?”

  When Savannah didn’t respond, Gladys asked, “Vannie, you aren’t considering that, are you?”

  Savannah smiled slyly. “Well, I wouldn’t mind giving that woman a pinch of trouble.” She picked up her phone. “Let me see what Rob’s doing today.”

  ****

  “I can’t believe you two,” Rob said, chuckling, when Savannah and Margaret met him and his long-time girlfriend, Cheryl, at a coffee house later that day. “You’re regular rabble-rousers, aren’t you?”

  “I guess we are.” Margaret leaned closer and asked quietly, “So, Rob, what’s the plan?”

  “Well, I’ve been mulling it over.” He looked at Cheryl. “Since the woman knows the rest of us, I was thinking…”

  “Oh-no, Rob. Not me,” she whined.

  “Come on, Cheryl, it’ll be something you can tell your grandchildren about someday—a true adventure.”

  She smirked at him and complained, “Unless I don’t live through it.”

  “Where’s the danger?” he challenged. “At most, you’ll come out of there with a little cat hair on you.”

  Cheryl rolled her eyes. “Just what is it you want me to do?”

  “That’s my girl,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. “Well, I think, like Maggie does, that Rags might not be the first cat Marvelle the marvel has tried to steal. Maybe she’s actually hurting cats. I think we should get pictures of some of the cats she has and turn them over to animal control.”

  “Plus, the woman has decided to sue me because Rags broke some things in her home,” Savannah said. “I wouldn’t mind teaching her a lesson.”

  Cheryl leaned forward. “You mean, she stole your cat and she’s suing you?”

  Savannah nodded.

  Cheryl thought for a minute, then said, “Okay, in the off chance that I agree to this, how would I get in and what makes you think she’ll let me take pictures?”

  “That’s right,” Savannah said, “if she’s stealing cats, she won’t be too excited about having them photographed.”

  Rob stared into his iced tea. “Good question. I think this will take two of us after all. I can wear a disguise and use my phone secretly to get photos while you’re talking to her.”

  “About what?” Cheryl asked. “Why am I going to her house, anyway? I mean, what will I tell her that she’ll believe?”

  “Maybe you two could pose as neighbors,” Savannah suggested. “Oh wait—cat breeders. That’s it! A neighbor told you about her beautiful cats and you want to connect with her.”

  “Wow!” Rob said. “I like your style, Savannah. Yes!” he practically shouted. “Oh, this is going to be fun. She’ll definitely be interested to know someone who’s breeding cats that she could potentially add to her collection, right?”

  “I wonder if she’s taking cats to keep,” Savannah said. “Or is she picking up unusual cats and selling them?”

  Rob squeezed lemon into his tea. “Maybe we’ll get a sense about that when we visit her today.”

  “And how will we find her?” Margaret asked. “You don’t have her address, do you?”

  “I know the Gardens Apartments and I know some of the people who live there,” Rob said. “They’re probably familiar with her.”

  “So what’s our role?” Margaret asked excitedly. “I want to be involved.”

  “You two can drive the getaway car,” Rob suggested.

  “Bummer,” Margaret whined. “I want to do more than that.”

  Rob looked at Savannah. “What about you?”

  She waved her hand in front of herself. “I’m good.”

  He grinned at her, then asked Margaret, “Want to wear a disguise and go in with us?”

  “If she’ll let you in,” Savannah said.

  “Oh, we’ll get in,” Rob assured her. He stood up. “Let’s meet at our place and we’ll get outfitted, okay?”

  “You have costumes at your apartment?” Savannah asked.

  “Yeah, doesn’t everyone?” When Rob saw her puzzled look, he explained, “This won’t be our first covert activity. Plus, we love dressing up for Halloween, St. Patrick’s Day, Christmas…”

  “Really?” Savannah said. “I didn’t know that about you.”

  In response, Rob put a straw in his mouth as if it were a cigar and raised his eyebrows up and down Groucho Marx style. He then stood and said, “Okay, follow us.” As an afterthought, he wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to Savannah. “Our address, in case we get separated.”

  Chapter 6

  Later that evening after the dinner dishes had been done and Lily was in bed, Savannah and Margaret talked about their crazy day.

  “I can’t believe you two did that,” Gladys said.

  Margaret crossed her arms in front of herself. “All in a day’s work for a cat advocate.”

  “Do you mean you often con old women and report them to authorities?”

  “Sure I do,” Margaret insisted, “if she’s stealing cats.”

  Gladys looked askance. “And was she guilty of stealing cats?”

  “According to the folks at the shelter where I used to volunteer, she was,” Savannah explained. “I texted Doreen a couple of pictures Auntie got and they recognized Marvelle and a cat that went missing from the shelter. Marvelle has been on their radar for a while as a suspect in a cat theft from a pet store, too—an Abyssinian.” Savannah looked at her aunt and began to laugh. “Mom, you should have seen your sister disguised as a frumpy old grandma.”

  Margaret giggled. “Yeah, and Rob was my doddering old husband.”

  “And his lady friend?” Gladys asked, an amused smile on her face.

  “Oh, Cheryl didn’t go in after all; just Auntie and Rob.”

  Margaret bounced in her chair. “It was a blast. That woman didn’t know what had hit her.” She became more serious. “Gladys, you should have seen her cats. They were mostly purebreds or cats that could be passed off as purebred. She had herself quite a unique business going there.”

  “How do you know that? Did she tell you? Did she give you a business card?”

  Savannah shook her head. “No. While Auntie and Rob were getting dressed up, Cheryl and I did some Internet research and discovered that Marvelle was selling cats through her website. We believe she’s been acting as a sort of middleman—or woman—for the cat trade. Someone requests a Persian and she finds one someplace, probably creates false papers for the cat, then sells it cheap. It’s all profit for her.”

  Margaret petted Rags as he walked past. “Why she wanted this cat, I’ll never know.”

  “Because people at the gas station were talking about his documentary,” Savannah explained. “She figured he was famous.”

  “So how long has that woman been operating this scam business?” Gladys asked. “Why wasn’t she caught before this?”

  Margaret frowned. “Who knows? Most of her sales seemed to be over the Internet, her buyers were probably from out of the area. All she had to do when a customer complained was to change her email address and website.”

  Savannah licked her lips. “Yeah, she would eventually be caught, but better sooner than later.” She leaned forward. “I just hope they can find the owners of the cats they confiscated from her place.”

  Gladys raised her eyebrows. “They already took her kitties?”

  “They weren’t her cats, Mom,” Savannah said. “…most of them, anyway.”

  “Yeah, the authorities planned to go in this afternoon and take them,” Margaret said excitedly. “Rob and I got a lot of pictures showing incriminating evidence and they decided to act on it today before she and her mousey husband could flee th
e area.”

  Gladys motioned toward the kitchen. “Is that your phone, Vannie?”

  “Oh, yes.” She walked to where it was charging. When she returned, she announced, “Good news!”

  “What?” the others asked.

  “That was Gwen. She’s the director at animal regulations. She said that some of the cats have been returned to their homes already—those with chips.”

  “That is good news,” Margaret agreed. “And what about the weirdo woman? Will she be arrested?”

  “Gwen thinks there will be some sort of punishment. What usually happens with these people is they become known in the community and they’re no longer able to adopt a cat. Shelter directors, pet store owners, breeders, and veterinarians know who they are. They usually leave the area and start their scam someplace else. Gwen said they’re in touch with hundreds of shelters all over the US and they’ll spread the word about Marvelle, so hopefully she can’t set up her operation again.”

  “I love a happy ending,” Gladys said. She then asked, “So did Rob ever find out anything about Rags’s late-night excursion across town? Has he talked to anyone who saw him?”

  Savannah sat forward, her eyes wide. “Yes. As a matter of fact, Cheryl and some of Rob’s staff actually made a few discoveries.” She stared across the room at Rags and shook her head. “Evidently, he was seen wandering, trotting, and downright running through city streets and neighborhoods between here and the catnapper’s place that night. So far, they haven’t put together his exact itinerary, but they have a lot of the pieces—you know, from eyewitnesses and surveillance cameras.”

  Gladys rolled her eyes.

  “Oh,” Savannah said, chuckling, “a couple of homeless people said they shared a meal with Rags—scraps from behind a restaurant. That was around nine thirty. A street-sweeper operator noticed a cat fitting Rags’s description sitting on a curb at a corner like he was waiting for the light to change.”

  “What?” Gladys said.

  “That’s what Cheryl said,” Margaret confirmed. “The street-sweeper man actually stopped and Rags—or a cat matching his description—crossed right in front of him.”

  Savannah chuckled. “A couple of people in a housing tract said they saw him while they were out walking their dog.”

  “Yeah,” Margaret said, snickering, “get this—he walked along with them and their poodle for a few blocks. Cheryl said that when the couple turned to head back home, Rags took off in another direction.”

  “That was around ten. He was approximately a mile away then, and he showed up here around midnight.”

  “Did he ever take a ride with anyone, or did he walk all the way?” Gladys asked.

  “Rob isn’t sure. He thinks there’s a possibility that he hitched a ride, because there’s one area that he seems to have covered pretty fast. This was early in the evening and the busses were still running, so he could have hopped a bus.” Savannah took a sip of water before continuing. “There’s also a period when he seemed to take longer than he should have to get to a certain point and Rob thinks Rags either stopped to rest or he climbed aboard the wrong bus and it took him away from his destination.”

  Gladys laughed. “Vannie, you really ought to invest in a GPS system for him. One of those that constantly reports his coordinates.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, “that might be a good investment.”

  “But do you really want to know what he’s been up to?” Margaret teased.

  “Yeah, there’s that,” Savannah quipped. She yawned and asked, “So Mom, are you going with us to the library signing tomorrow?”

  “Maybe. Let’s see what Lilliana wants to do, shall we? What time is it?”

  “Ten. This one’s for the little kids—you know, preschoolers and kindergarteners. It’s their weekly story-time morning.”

  “So when you do one of these at a library, do parents check out the books? How does that work? What if they want to buy books?”

  “Oh, usually Rob’s there selling books or he has someone from a local bookstore come in and handle sales. A percentage of sales go to the library. We don’t usually sell as many books at the libraries, but it’s always fun. Don’t you think so, Auntie?”

  “Yeah, the little ones are cute and things aren’t as chaotic as when there’s a large group of the bigger kids.”

  ****

  “So how did the signing go?” Gladys asked the following afternoon while the three women and the toddler were eating a late lunch at a local diner. “Was it as nice and orderly as you expected?”

  Margaret frowned at her sister. “You were there. Didn’t you see what was going on?”

  “No. I was in the play area with Lilliana most of the time. What happened?”

  “Well, Rags was at the top of his game today—out-of-control crazy!”

  “Oh my. Do you think he’ll be okay with Darby?” Gladys asked. “Maybe we shouldn’t have taken him home before coming here. He won’t hurt my cat, will he?”

  “No, Mom. He’s fine.” She glowered at Margaret. “Auntie is exaggerating things way out of proportion like she always does.”

  Margaret faced her niece. “Are you saying he didn’t cause chaos in the library this morning?”

  “Well,” Savannah said meekly.

  “What happened?” Gladys asked. “What did I miss?”

  “Not much,” Savannah assured her.

  Margaret smirked playfully at her niece. “I think you’re Rags-blind.”

  “What does that mean?” Savannah insisted.

  “You only see what you want to see where your cat’s concerned.”

  “Okay, what did you see that I didn’t see?” Savannah challenged.

  Gladys sat patiently waiting to hear her sister’s version of what had happened.

  “Well, he spilled the librarian’s fancy coffee—twice.”

  “She should have had a lid on that cup,” Savannah criticized. “You don’t set anything liquid around books or electronics, especially without a lid.”

  “And especially when there’s a cat around,” Gladys agreed. “I’ve sure learned that with Darby—thankfully, not the hard way.” She glanced from Savannah to Margaret. “Was there damage?”

  “I don’t think so,” Savannah said. “The latte went mostly on the floor.”

  Margaret chuckled. “And all over the librarian’s wool skirt.”

  Savannah winced.

  Amused, Gladys asked, “What else happened when Lilliana and I weren’t looking?”

  Margaret responded. “Rags took a toy from a service dog and hid it.”

  “Hid it?” Gladys repeated.

  Savannah thinned her lips. “We looked everywhere. The dog’s owner said she won’t sleep without it.”

  “Who won’t sleep?” Margaret asked, “…the woman or the dog?”

  Savannah shrugged. “Good question.” She then asked, “How does she even know Rags took it? I had him on the leash at the time. I didn’t see him with it.”

  “Yeah,” Margaret said, “one of the kids saw him sneak up when the dog wasn’t looking and take the little toy cat.”

  “It was a toy cat?” Gladys asked, laughing. “No wonder Rags took it away from the dog. He was probably chewing on it. What cat wants to see a dog chewing on a cat, for heaven’s sake? Did they ever find it?”

  Savannah nodded. “After the gal left with the dog, a little boy found it on a bookshelf.”

  “Yeah, and when Rags saw it, he nearly pulled Vannie’s arm off trying to get to it.”

  “That he did,” Savannah agreed.

  Gladys laughed. “Of course he did.”

  “He was kind of obsessed with that toy cat after that,” Savannah explained.

  Margaret chortled. “Yeah, the boy who found it had given it to a volunteer and she placed it on the counter next to a note with the dog-owner’s contact information. Rags saw it and boy was he determined to get up there. He tried every manipulative move he c
ould manage to reach that stuffed cat. And in the process, he tripped a homeless man.”

  “Uh-oh. Was the guy hurt?” Gladys asked.

  “I don’t think so. But Rags had pulled the leash taut across a walkway without Vannie noticing and sure enough, here comes a skinny guy moving fast through there and wham, the leash got him at about shin level and down he went.”

  “Poor Rags,” Savannah said quietly. When the others looked at her, she explained, “Well, when that happened, he got yanked right off the chair he was sitting on.”

  Margaret began to laugh. “And the chair fell over onto a couple of kids who were quietly listening to a story.”

  Gladys covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes wide. “Oh, my! Are they okay?”

  “Yeah, everyone’s okay, Mom,” Savannah said.

  “But the little toy cat will never be the same,” Margaret said, feigning remorse.

  “Why?” Gladys asked. “What happened, Maggie?”

  Savannah lowered her eyes and sighed deeply as Margaret explained, “Well, another volunteer came along and saw the stuffed cat on the counter. She evidently hadn’t been there when the original fiasco took place and she picked it up and deposited it in the kids’ toy box.”

  “Yeah,” Savannah said morosely, “I didn’t think anything about it when Rags jumped into that toy box. He’d done it several times throughout the morning and the kids got a kick out of seeing him do it. Sometimes he’d come out with a toy in his mouth. Well, this time…” she looked at her aunt.

  “Yeah, this time, he stayed in there for several seconds,” Margaret explained. “We couldn’t see him from where we were sitting because the box is kinda deep. Eventually, Rags comes out of there and walks over to Savannah and lies down.” Margaret put her hands together under her chin and looked up toward the ceiling. “Finally, I thought, he’s going to settle down and behave himself.”

  “And he did,” Savannah said. “He lay there nice and quiet for the rest of story time.”

  “However,” Margaret said dramatically. She glanced at Savannah, then told Gladys, “pretty soon we hear this scream or squeal. We look up and there’s a little girl standing next to the toy box. She’s staring down into it and shouting, ‘It’s all wet in here!’”

 

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