The Secret Claws

by Patricia Fry

  “No,” Iris said. “Not when it’s conducted out in the cold in the dark and you can’t tell the good guys from the bad guys. Oh no, not my cup of tea.”

  Craig patted her leg affectionately and went back to reading his paper.

  ****

  The small group converged on Marilyn’s house about half an hour later. “Hi!” Savannah called, when she saw the woman through a burned-out section of the house.

  “Hi,” Marilyn said. “Hey, don’t go under that yellow tape; I don’t know how stable the beams are. They actually advised me to stay away, but there are a few things I want to salvage. She motioned with one arm. “Walk around the side of the house and I’ll let you into my studio. It was pretty much untouched. What a blessing.”

  The women and children followed Marilyn’s directions and were invited into a small detached building behind the main house.

  “Wow,” Savannah said, looking around.

  “Is this all your work?” Gladys asked. When Marilyn nodded, she said, “Aren’t these cute?”

  “Adorable,” Holly agreed.

  “Yes, I’m so thankful that most of them were saved. Oh, they will have to be cleaned because of smoke damage, but to have all of this work preserved—well, it’s darn near a miracle.”

  “You do amazing work,” Holly said, walking around the room with Bethany by the hand.

  “Thank you,” Marilyn said. She picked up a stuffed dog. “These are what I call Cuddle Pets. I have dogs, cats, bears, even horses and bunny-rabbits.” She faced the others. “They’re for children who are struggling with an illness and spend time in hospitals, and having tests and procedures. The parent or grandparent records their voice with comforting messages and the child can hold the pet and listen to the messages when they feel frightened or lonely.”

  “What a great idea,” Savannah said.

  “I’ll create custom pets on request—you know, for a child who has to leave his dachshund behind or one who has a favorite white cat at home or a flop-eared bunny or whatever.”

  “Do you market these?” Holly asked.

  “Well, we’ve tested them with great success and I’m on the verge of trying to find a manufacturer and a distributor, but I’ve run into some roadblocks lately.” She grimaced. “My husband being one of them, as you can imagine.” She spoke more quietly. “He has destroyed some of my work. He’s just so jealous and vindictive. I didn’t cause his back injury—that was of his own doing, but somehow in his mind I’m to blame for his miserable life—the fact that he can no longer work and afford the motorcycle he’s been wanting. I’ve told him many times that I would help him with that if I could get my business going, but he doesn’t believe in my idea. All he does is shoot me down and get in my way.”

  Marilyn shook her head. “They told me he’ll probably be in jail for a week and that’ll give me time to get situated in a new place. I think it’s best he doesn’t know where I am. I’ve known for a long time it was over between us, but like a silly woman, I’ve been clinging to hope.”

  When Savannah heard the emotion in Marilyn’s voice, she rubbed her back briefly and said, “It’ll be okay. Sometimes we have to go through a lot to get to a place where we’re safe to make the changes we need in order to move on. It’s hard, but it seems like you’re a brave and smart woman. You’re doing the right thing.” She dug into her pocket. “By the way, here’s that key. I understand it was originally meant for you.”

  “Thank you,” Marilyn said without much enthusiasm.

  “Now you’re going to the church this afternoon, aren’t you?” Holly asked.

  Marilyn sat down and slumped. “I don’t know.”

  “Oh, hi, Thad,” Savannah said, when he walked into Marilyn’s studio. “Thanks again for that wonderful breakfast.”

  “Yeah,” Holly said, “I’m sorry you had to leave so early and couldn’t enjoy it with us.”

  “Yeah, I had things to do.” He asked Marilyn, “Are you ready for my help?”

  “Yes, I’m starting to tire. The doctor told me I could do whatever I feel comfortable doing.”

  “But they warned you about overdoing it, didn’t they?” Holly asked.

  Marilyn nodded sheepishly.

  “That’s why I’m here,” Thad said. “Show me what needs to be done.”

  Savannah began ushering the children and animals toward the door, saying, “Hey, we’d better leave you to your work.”

  “Thanks for coming down,” Marilyn said. “And for the key.”

  “So we’ll see you at the church later?” Savannah asked.

  “Yeah, I guess,” she said.

  “You’ll be there, won’t you, Thad?”

  “Oh, I’m not sure. I have things to do…” he stalled.

  ****

  “How badly is the house burned?” Michael asked Savannah when they returned from their walk.

  “It’s totaled. Amazingly, Marilyn’s studio’s in pretty good shape. She was able to save some of her work.”

  “What does she do?” Iris asked. “What kind of studio?”

  “You should have gone with us; I think you would enjoy seeing it. She creates little stuffed animals for kids who are stuck in hospitals.”

  “Yeah,” Holly interjected, “parents can record their voice in them with words of comfort to keep the child company and the little critters are just so cuddly and sweet.”

  “How unique,” Iris said.

  “So how are the furry vagabonds this morning?” Craig asked, ruffling Rags’s fur when the cat jumped up onto the arm of his chair.

  “They’re lagging today,” Savannah said. “I guess they’re worn out.”

  “Good,” Michael said, vigorously petting both sides of Lexie’s neck. “Maybe you two will settle down and take a good nap while we’re gone.”

  “Hey, Adam,” Craig said, when the boy walked into the room.

  “Yeah?”

  “I didn’t get any of that trout you caught. Did you save me a piece?”

  Adam looked at Savannah.

  Cassie ran into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, calling, “Is there any left, Aunt Savannah?”

  “I think there is,” Holly responded, “unless someone got hungry in the night and raided the fridge.”

  Michael’s eyes danced. “I thought about it.”

  “Where are you going to put it, Craig,” Iris complained, “after that filling breakfast?

  You can’t possibly be hungry.”

  Craig countered her. “Yeah, for a bite of fresh-caught trout, I am.”

  “I can relate,” Savannah said. “I seem to always have room for chocolate.”

  After Holly showed her daughter where the fish was, the child started to take it to Craig.

  “Wait,” Holly said. “Let’s put some on a plate for him and Iris to taste. They probably don’t want to eat that whole big piece.”

  Craig rubbed his stomach and agreed. “Not after that great breakfast.” He took the small plate from Cassie. “Looks delicious. Now which one of you kids caught this one?”

  “Um…” Cassie hesitated. She looked at her mother. “I don’t know.”

  “It all tastes the same, Detective,” Adam said in all seriousness.

  Craig chuckled. “Oh, then okay.” He took a bite and the children waited for his reaction. They watched as he engaged in a number of facial contortions. He smacked his lips dramatically and appeared to be in deep in thought about what his mouth was experiencing. Finally, to the children’s delight, he fist-bumped with each of them and uttered a resounding, “Excellent! Good job, guys!”

  “Yeah,” Cassie said, “I don’t even like fish, but I ate all of mine.”

  Iris smiled at the children, then said to Savannah, “So I missed my chance to be part of the key club did I? And I lost that lamp I liked.”

  “Oh,” Savannah said, “good news on that front. The lamp survived the fire and Marilyn said she still doesn’t want it if yo
u’d like to have it.”

  “Yes!” Iris said.

  “You’d better get down there and pick it up pretty soon,” Holly suggested. “She’s leaving town.”

  “Okay, sure will.” Iris smiled. “That makes me happy. I don’t have a key, but I have the lamp I wanted in the first place.”

  “Oh, Iris,” Michael grumped, “no one actually knows what those keys mean. It could just be a childish prank the pastor has devised to test his parishioners’ level of greed. I’m sure there’s a lesson in there somewhere.”

  “Yeah, you could be right,” Iris said, “but I’m still curious enough to sit through the sermon to find out.”

  “I think we’re all on pins and needles,” Gladys said.

  Iris glanced around at everyone. “Did any of you find a key?”

  “Not really,” Savannah said. “The only one we found was in that lamp of yours and it sure wasn’t meant for us.”

  “And you say Rags found that one?”

  “Yes—Rags and Lexie. They were both nosing around at the base of the lamp.”

  Iris smiled. “Well, there you go—send those two on a key search; they’re bound to find another one.”

  “I’m pretty sure the keys are left in strategic places for certain people to find,” Savannah said. “I don’t think they’ve been scattered haphazardly throughout the region.”

  “How do you know that?” Iris challenged.

  “I don’t, but that’s the impression I get.” Savannah leaned toward Iris briefly and asked, “Did you know that someone is going around hurting people because of those keys? We know of two people who’ve been hurt by a guy in black—you know, beat up.” Her eyes wide, she said, “One of them was Marilyn’s husband—the guy who tried to burn our house down.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Craig said. “It doesn’t take long for word to travel, and there are leeches just waiting to take advantage of anything they think will benefit them.” He looked at the piece of trout left on the small plate. “Babe, you really ought to try this fish. It’s probably the best I’ve ever eaten. Which of you gals cooked it?”

  “None of them did,” Adam said.

  “Your dads created this flavor?” Craig asked surprised.

  The children shook their head. Adam said, “No, it was our new friend Thad—you know, the guy who fixed our breakfast.”

  “And helped us find Rags,” Savannah added.

  Craig glanced at Savannah. “That’s right, you mentioned that he cooked for you last night.” He held the plate toward Iris. “Here, you’ve gotta try this.”

  She took a nibble and agreed. “Mmm, really tasty. Does Thad cook for someone?”

  “Simmer down, there, Iris,” Michael said. “You have a first-class chef at the inn already. You aren’t thinking of letting Maddie go, are you?”

  “No, but I talk to other resort owners who are always looking for a good chef.”

  “Wow, that’s what Thad wants to be,” Adam said. “He likes cooking.”

  Cassie added, “Yeah, that’s what he dreams about.”

  “He’s following a dream, is he?” Craig asked.

  “Well, he has a dream,” Savannah said, “and he’s trying to line things up in his life so he can one day pursue it.”

  Keith nodded. “He’s a nice kid.”

  “And a good cook,” Craig added as he ate the rest of the fish. He pointed. “Hey, what’s that your cat’s playing with there, someone’s grocery list?”

  “Oh,” Savannah said, “he must have dug it out of the trash. I found it in my jeans pocket this morning and tossed it.”

  After a few moments, Craig said, “It must be important.”

  “Why, for heaven’s sake?” Iris asked.

  “Because Rags has it, that’s why. Do you ever see him lusting after an inconsequential receipt from the dry cleaner or the liquor store? No.” He walked up to the cat and took the paper from him. “It’s a list of names.”

  “Yes,” Savannah said, “and some of the people on that list have found keys—we know of six of them.”

  Craig stared at her for a moment, then said, “There are only eleven names here and you know that six of them have keys?” He then noted, “Hey, I know a couple of these folks.” He recited, “Jennie Staples, Bruce Agar—that’s probably old man Agar’s son, Skip Haskell, and Lana Preston—she’s probably the ski instructor’s oldest girl, and George Carver. Yeah, some of those folks and their families have been up here for a long time or they’ve owned cabins up here. I wonder if they got keys and what in the heck it means.” He turned the paper around in his hand and asked quietly, “What’s this?”

  “What?” Iris asked, leaning over his shoulder. “It’s a drawing.” She looked more closely, “It’s a sort of rectangular shape with a fancy cross in the middle.”

  “I can see that,” Craig spat, “but what does it mean?”

  Iris shrugged. “Just a decoration, I guess.”

  “Or someone was doodling,” Michael offered.

  Craig handed the note back to Savannah, who stared at it for a moment. When Lily asked for help putting a jacket on her doll, Savannah tucked the list into her jeans pocket.

  Just then there was a knock at the door.

  “I’ll get it,” Keith said, swinging the front door open. When he saw a sheriff’s deputy standing in front of him, he asked, “Can I help you?”

  “Watch the cat!” Savannah shouted, grabbing Rags just before he could make an escape.

  “Oh,” Keith said, “why don’t you come inside? We have a Houdini cat in here.”

  “Hello folks,” the officer said as he stepped inside. “Just checking to make sure everyone’s okay after that little rumble last night.”

  “Yeah, we’re fine,” Savannah said.

  “Hi, Lee,” Craig said, moving forward to shake hands with the officer.

  “Oh, Detective Sledge, I didn’t see you there. How’s it going? You weren’t here last night were you?”

  “Yes. What’s going on, do you know?”

  Deputy Lee rubbed his chin and winced. “It appears to be related to those darned keys. Someone has evidently been targeting people who have the keys. Our guess is that they think the keys are valuable. Just last night Rankle was attacked. Good thing that happened, because he’d been beating on his wife when the attacker showed up, and she was able to get away and call us. His attacker fit the same description as the guy who attacked the Agar kid down at the river. Both times, the guy ranted about wanting a key. A couple in the village is concerned for their children’s safety, presumably because of that guy. They’ve been receiving threats. They’ve spent most of the week down in the valley—abandoning their home.”

  “Who is this guy that’s causing so much upset, do you know?” Craig asked.

  “In my opinion it’s whoever handed out those keys in the first place.”

  “Why?” Holly asked. “That doesn’t make sense, does it?”

  “Who else knows for sure who has the keys?”

  “Well, we know a few people who do,” Michael said, “and we’re just visiting. So I don’t think it would be too difficult for others to find out who does and doesn’t have keys.” He frowned. “Why would the person who gave the keys try to steal them back? That doesn’t make any sense, like Holly said.”

  The deputy shook his head. “Well, it’s a puzzle as far as the department’s concerned. I’ll just be glad when this nonsense is over. Personally, I think we’re going to find out that Pastor Sterling is behind this whole thing. He’s always coming up with gimmicks to fill the pews.” He looked around the room. “Well, I have others to check on, so I’d better get a move on. Stay safe, folks.” He started to leave, then turned back. “Will you be attending the event today?”

  “We sure are,” Savannah said.

  Chapter 8

  “That’s a lot of people,” Adam said as they walked from the dock toward the church.

  �
��Yeah,” Keith remarked, “I didn’t know there were this many people in California!”

  “I hope we don’t have to stand up the whole time,” Cassie whined. “They always make kids stand up so the old people can sit down.”

  “We can sit on the floor,” Adam suggested. “Hey, in the front. Then we can see what’s going on better.”

  “What if they call on you?” Keith joked. When Adam looked confused, he explained, “Don’t teachers and ministers always call on the people in the front row?”

  Adam and Cassie exchanged grim looks.

  When the two families entered the church Adam pointed. “There’s an empty bench!”

  “Pew,” Michael corrected.

  Adam looked up at his father and asked, “Do you smell something?”

  Michael shook his head. “No, why?”

  “You said pew.”

  When it dawned on Michael what Adam was referring to, he stifled a laugh. “No,” he said, trying to contain his laughter, “a church bench like this is called a pew.”

  “Oh,” Adam said.

  “There’s enough seating for all of us in these two rows,” Savannah said.

  “Let’s sit,” Keith suggested.

  It took several minutes for the church to fill. Once everyone was seated, a man of about sixty with straight salt-and-pepper hair and wearing a robe stepped up to the altar. “Good morning,” he greeted. “As some of you know, I’m Pastor Sterling, and I welcome you to our little mountain church. It’s wonderful to see the overflowing crowd today. I know that most of you are here because of the scheduled program, but I’m afraid I have some disturbing news.”

  He took a deep breath and scanned the faces before him. “I’m saddened to announce that the person behind today’s reveal, as some are calling it, has left us to sit at the throne of God.” When he heard a rumble of voices in the audience, he spoke more loudly. “Yes, she slipped away from us suddenly in the night. We’ve lost a wonderful woman and a generous philanthropist, Lois Lancaster.”

  The din vibrated through the building as stunned parishioners and those who came simply out of curiosity expressed their thoughts with one another, and it took several moments for the pastor to regain control. Finally he said, “Yes, it was Lois Lancaster who arranged for certain of our citizens to receive keys—keys that were distributed in the name of love and each with a specific purpose—a gift, if you will.”