by Patricia Fry
“Well, I’m puzzled as to how some things are showing up inside this house—things that shouldn’t logically be in here. Now, I know about the klepto cat.” He glanced over at Rags, who was by then lying on the arm of the chair, reaching out and patting the sleeping kitten’s head. “But you say he doesn’t go outside unsupervised. So he couldn’t be bringing things in from outside without someone knowing, could he?”
“No. There’s no way. He does not go out alone—at all,” Margaret said.
“Then the only other possibility is that someone is bringing these things in.” He looked from one to the other of the people in the room.
Suddenly, Rags jumped down off the chair and flew up the staircase. Everyone followed him with their eyes, but their attention was more strictly on Craig and his last statement.
“Like who?” Margaret asked. “Michael and Savannah don’t let anyone unscrupulous into their home,” she insisted.
“Who does come in on a regular or even non-regular basis?” he asked.
“Well, Helena cleans for them. Antonio, the gardener, is here several times a week, but I don’t think he comes in the house. He could, I guess. But both of them were my loyal employees for years before Michael and Savannah moved in here. Charlotte comes to visit every week or so. Michael’s son is here every-other week. Hell, Craig, Iris comes over, you do…what sort of suspect are you hoping to find?”
Before he could respond, he looked up and saw Rags walk awkwardly into the room. “What’s he got?” he asked with a chuckle.
Margaret looked over at the cat. “Could be just about anything, knowing him.”
Everyone watched as he walked up to Colbi, jumped up on the table next to her and dropped the item in her lap. The kitten rose up, stretched, and then went back to sleep.
Laughter filled the room.
“He brought the kitty a present from his stash,” Max said. “That’s rich. What a cat!”
“Wait!” Craig shouted.
Everyone stopped and looked at him. He stood and walked over to Colbi. “If you don’t mind…” he said.
“A…no, I guess…” she responded, not knowing what he was going to do.
He reached down and picked up the item. “It’s a glove—a knit glove,” he said. He held it up and asked, “Does anyone know where this came from? Where the cat got it?” He looked around the room and saw only blank stares. “I’d like to take this with me,” he said.
“Okay with us, but you’d better have a talk with Rags,” Margaret said.
That’s when Craig noticed the large cat staring up at him in what appeared to be anticipation.
“Oh, poor Rags. He brought that for the kitten and now you want to take it away,” Margaret said. “What’s the significance of it anyway?” she asked.
Craig took in a deep breath. “The deceased—Beverly Jones—was wearing the mate to this glove when she died.”
Chapter Eleven
“Max’s casserole was sure good,” Colbi said while rinsing her plate in the kitchen sink. “He’s a chef, you know. Worked for some high-class restaurants in Chicago before coming here to open his cat rescue shelter.”
“He hasn’t lost his touch,” Damon said as he loaded a few plates into the dishwasher. “Good food.” He then looked around. “Hey where’s Dolly?” he asked.
“I put her in the pen. I don’t think she should be out with all these big cats and the dog until we’re sure no one’s going to torment or hurt anyone else. You have to introduce a new animal kind of gradually.”
“Oh, I never thought about that. I guess there’s a lot to know about cats and dogs.”
“You can’t even begin to imagine, Damon. There are so many books, magazines, newsletters, websites, and blogs devoted just to cats.”
“There are?” he asked in disbelief.
“Yes, and clubs and forums and rescue groups—oh—and TV shows featuring cats. Cats are big business.”
“Hmmm,” Damon murmured as he continued to load the dishwasher.
Colbi was quiet for a minute or two. Finally she asked, “What do you think is going on—I mean with Beverly’s belongings showing up inside this house?”
He stood and turned toward her. “Hard to say,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I keep thinking about it, and it’s just a mystery. But then I don’t know what goes on around here on a daily basis—do they have deliveries? Do neighbors pop in? Maybe Michael’s kid brings home things he finds. I used to love to go scavenging around abandoned properties. Ask my mom; I was always bringing home some crazy stuff.”
Colbi yawned and then said, “Damon, it has been a long day. I think I’ll join Maxie…” she looked over at him before adding, “…Dolly…and go to bed.”
“Do you want me to walk you home tonight?” he asked.
“Yes, that would be nice,” she said still sounding a little hoarse.
As the two walked slowly up the stairs, Colbi said, “I’d like to write something about Beverly.”
“Who?”
“Beverly Jones, the dead woman.”
“Why?” he asked as they entered The Healing Room.
Colbi walked over to the pen, opened the gate, and picked up the kitten. “Want out to stretch your legs, little one?” She set her on the floor, then walked over and closed the bedroom door before sitting down on the bed. Damon perched on the edge of a nearby chair waiting for her to answer his question.
“Well, there is an active case involving her and she is a bit of a mystery. I think everyone’s interested in the homeless culture and some of the stories around the individuals are rather fascinating, don’t you think?” Before he could speak, she said, “I want to go talk to some homeless people around the area and see if we can find anyone who knew her. After reading that letter and learning that her only daughter was killed, it just seems that she was a sad woman who wound up homeless because she couldn’t handle reality anymore…couldn’t cope.”
“You’re probably right, but how do you know her story would be worth writing?”
“I don’t. But I’d like to find out if it is.” She looked over at him. “Are you with me?”
Damon reached down and petted the kitten, who had found his shoelaces. She looked up at him and mewed. He wasn’t prepared for what happened, next. “Look at that, will ya? What’s she think she’s doing?” He laughed. “Ouch! She’s climbing my leg!”
“Well, she wants in your lap.”
Damon grabbed the kitten, pulled her claws out of his jeans, and brought her up to his lap. “There, is that what you want?” He looked over at Colbi with his trademark crooked smile. “Girls can sure be demanding.”
Colbi shot him a playful look. “So, she got what she wanted. What do I have to do to get what I want?”
He looked over at her. “What do you want, Colbi?” he asked in all seriousness.
“Where were you—didn’t you hear me? I want to go talk to some of the homeless people.”
“Oh, that. Sure, we can do that. I’ll go in to work in the morning and come and get you around noon, sound good?”
“Uh, I guess.”
“I did a piece on homelessness once and I know of a camp not too far from here. It’s near the bend in the river—across that bridge.” Damon teased the kitten into playing with his finger and then looked up at Colbi. “Yeah. I could take you out to that camp, if it’s still there. You know, they move around sometimes. The county moves them out of the riverbeds this time of year.”
She sat silent for a moment and stared down at the kitten. She then made eye contact with Damon and asked, “What did you think I wanted?”
“Uh, maybe a kiss.”
She smiled over at him. “You’re cute.”
He lifted the kitten up and held her against him under his chin. “Are you talking to me or the cat?”
“Both of you.” She stood and walked over to where Damon sat, leaned over, and kissed the kitten on top of the head. And then she pressed her lips against his for a gentle, l
ingering kiss.
When she pulled back, Damon set the kitten on the floor, stood up and pulled her toward him. He looked down into her eyes for a moment and then kissed her. They held each other for several minutes when Colbi cried, “Ouch!”
Damon looked down and saw the kitten climbing up Colbi’s leg. She grabbed her quickly, helped her ease her claws out of her jeans, and lifted her up to her face. Damon smiled down at the kitten and Dolly stared up onto his eyes, reaching out with one paw toward his face.
***
The next morning at Big Sur, Savannah and Michael had finished packing to go home. “Just look at that view,” he said.
Savannah sidled up to him as he stood in front of the window. “Gorgeous.” She picked up her camera off the table and walked over to tuck it into her overnight bag. “I’m looking forward to being home, though. I hope everything went okay for Colbi and Damon.”
Michael turned toward her, taking a sip of coffee. “I’m sure they’re fine; otherwise we would have heard something from them, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I guess.” She zipped up the bag. “Where are we going to eat breakfast?” she asked.
Michael smiled. “You sure have an appetite, don’t you, hon?”
“I’m eating for two, remember? And this baby likes his three meals!”
“And snacks…” Michael laughed.
“Yup, so where are we going to eat?” she asked again.
“How about that place a couple of miles down the road toward home? Can you make it that far?”
“Yeah. Sounds good. Ready to go? I’m eager to see the animals and sleep in my own bed.” She picked up her purse and added, “And have some peace and quiet. That group that came in on bikes last night was kind of noisy.”
Michael picked up both of their overnight bags. “They sure were,” he agreed, walking out the door Savannah held open for him.
Once they were in the car headed for home, Savannah said, “I’m going to text Colbi and let her know we’re on our way. What time do you think we’ll pull in, Michael?”
“Oh, probably close to four. You’ll want to stop for lunch and didn’t you want to pick up something at that mall off the 99?”
“Yeah, a little gift for Colbi and maybe Auntie.” Savannah took her cell phone out of her purse and then said, “Wait, Colbi doesn’t have her cell phone, unless she has picked up another one.” She sat looking down at her phone and then said, “I’ll text Damon.”
***
Later that afternoon, the Iveys arrived home. Damon walked out to greet them. He spotted the sheriff on duty in the distance and gave him a wave, letting him know everything was all right. Neither Michael nor Savannah had noticed him. “Hi guys,” Damon said when they stepped out of the car. “Can I bring in anything for you?”
“I can get the overnight bags,” Michael said. “You might help Savannah there with her treasures.”
“Thanks,” she said, reaching into the car to retrieve two large shopping bags. She handed them to Damon and then picked up a couple of smaller ones along with her purse.
“Where do you want these?” Damon asked as the trio entered through the front door.
“On the buffet, if you don’t mind,” Savannah said. She spotted Colbi walking from the kitchen into the living room. “Hi Colbi, how are you feeling? Everything okay?”
Colbi caught Damon’s eye as he passed her in the dining room. “Yeah, I feel stronger every day,” she said with a smile. “How was the trip?”
“Oh it was great to get away,” Savannah said, “and always good to be home.”
“You don’t sound as hoarse,” Michael observed as he returned from putting the overnight bags in their bedroom.
“You look a little brighter, too,” Savannah said with a smile. She rifled through the small shopping bags she still held in her hands, saying, “I brought you something.” Finally satisfied as to which bag was which, she held one of them out toward Colbi. “Here, just a little something to thank you for keeping an eye on things. We really appreciate it,” she said reaching out and enveloping Colbi in a hug.
“How nice,” Colbi said. “Thank you.”
Damon,” Savannah said, looking at him as he entered the room, “this is for you.”
He took the small brown bag from Savannah. “Thanks.”
Colbi started to sit down in the overstuffed chair to examine the contents of her bag, but stopped herself and said, “Oh, Savannah, do you want to sit here in the cushy chair?”
Savannah waved her hand in the air, walked over to the sofa and sat down. “No, I can hardly get up out of that chair anymore,” she said. “I’m fine here. Thanks.”
Colbi sat down and then peered into the gift bag, pulled out something wrapped in tissue, and opened it. “Oh Savannah, it’s adorable. Thank you,” Colbi said as she admired the figurine she held in her hands.
Savannah smiled. “It reminded me of you—a woman surrounded by cats.”
“I love it.” She held it close to her and looked over at Savannah and Michael with tears in her eyes. “Thank you so much.”
“Candy!” Damon exclaimed after removing two candy bars from his small gift bag.
“It’s that chocolate they make over in Belson off the 99,” Savannah said. “We watched them make truffles.”
“This is good stuff. Thanks, guys. How did you know I have a sweet tooth?” Damon asked. “In fact, I have lots of them.”
“You’re welcome,” Michael said, sitting down next to his wife. “Thank you, guys for holding down the fort here. Everything looks good—were things quiet while we were gone?”
Colbi and Damon glanced at one another.
Not noticing this, Savannah said, “I hope the animals behaved themselves.” Just then, she spotted Rags strolling into the room. “Oh hi, Ragsy. How are you, boy?” She looked around the room. “Where’s Lexie?”
“Yeah, she’s usually the first one to greet us,” Michael said.
Damon jumped up. “Oh, she’s still out in the pen,” he said. “We were gone for a while and thought she’d enjoy some fresh air. We locked her up good and tight. I’ll go get her.”
“What’s this?” Savannah asked, her eyes wide and her eyebrows raised.
Colbi looked in the direction Savannah pointed, on the floor near Colbi’s feet. She laughed. “Oh, this is Dolly.”
“That’s the sick kitten Damon brought to me, isn’t it?” Michael asked.
Colbi nodded. She reached out and scooped up the kitten as she heard Lexie scrambling to join the group in the living room. “Don’t want you to get trampled,” she said into the kitten’s soft fur.
“Hi Lexie,” Michael said. “Yes, you’re the best greeter of all, aren’t you, girl? Yes, we’re glad to see you too.” He scratched both sides of the dog’s neck as she stood with her front paws on the sofa. Michael looked over at Damon. “The kitten looks great. Is she doing okay?” he asked.
“Yes, she’s full of spunk, that one,” Damon said. “She’s one fun cat.” He looked seriously at Savannah and Michael. As if sharing a secret, he said, “You know, I don’t like cats, but this one isn’t like most cats.” He hesitated, looked around, and added, “Well, neither is Rags or those other two. None of them are sneaky and creepy like most cats.”
Savannah, Michael, and Colbi all exchanged knowing looks and smiled back and forth at one another. Colbi rolled her eyes. “That’s right, Damon—you haven’t changed; it’s the cats.”
“Yeah,” he said in all seriousness.
“Let me see that cute little one—Dolly, did you say?” Savannah walked over to Colbi, who handed her the kitten. “Why Dolly?” she asked while snuggling with the kitten.
“Because of her eyeliner,” Damon said. “I named her for Dolly Parton.
“Dolly Parton?” Michael said.
Colbi spoke up. “I named her Maxie—but that’s when I thought she was a boy,” she admitted.
“How is Rags with her?” Savannah wanted to know.
&n
bsp; “Adorable—it’s as if he suddenly became a papa cat or something. He brings her things. He sits and just stares at her. One day I found him curled up in Buffy’s pink canopy bed with Dolly. It was so cute. We took a picture. Show them, Damon.”
He pulled out his phone and began flipping through his photos. “Here it is,” he said with a laugh. He carried the phone over for Savannah and Michael to see and they chuckled with Damon.
“This was one of Colbi’s ferals,” Michael told Savannah. “Can you believe it?”
“No. She’s so relaxed.” Savannah sat back down on the sofa and lay the kitten on what was left of her lap. Dolly laid on her back, her head draping down over Savannah’s knees, looking at everyone upside down. Savannah gently rubbed her exposed tummy and Dolly wrapped her front paws around Savannah’s hand. “She is just yummy—what a cutie. I’m such a sucker for babies. Guess it’s the hormones.”
“Well, you’ll have a baby of your own soon. When is your due date?” Colbi asked.
“December 15th. Can’t wait.” Savannah looked around and asked. “Where did Rags go? I want to see how he interacts with little Dolly, here.”
Everyone glanced about the room. “Gosh, I didn’t see him leave,” Michael said. “Maybe he’s somewhere pouting. He’s probably jealous after seeing you holding the kitten.”
Michael reached over and ran his hand along the kitten’s tummy. Dolly grabbed his hand with her front paws and began kicking with her back ones. “Oh, a little tiger, huh?” he said, wrestling her a little with his hand. Then he pulled back and asked Colbi, “Do you have a wand toy for her?”
Colbi cocked her head and looked at Michael questioningly. “A wand toy?”
“Well, the experts say you shouldn’t play with a kitten using your hand.”
“Oh that’s right,” Savannah said.
Together they recited, “Hands are for feeding and petting.”
Everyone laughed.