by Patricia Fry
“What? I can’t believe you actually complimented me. Usually you’re critical of every story I write.”
There was silence and then Damon began to laugh.
“What?” she asked defensively.
“It sounds like you’re much better—back to yourself,” he said.
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He then changed the subject. “Hey, would you like to do a little investigation with me? It may lead to the killer and the cat.”
“Yeah—what do you have in mind?” she asked.
“Well,” he said, lowering his voice, “I overheard Craig this morning talking about the killer disappearing behind a house. I thought maybe we could see something in the daylight that they missed last night. I have the address here; wanna go out there?”
“Sure, when?”
“I can get away from work around ten. I’ll come get you.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Wow, this is some classy neighborhood,” Colbi said.
Damon looked around. “You got that right. Watch for 1205,” he said.
“Okay, there’s 1195—oh here it is, 1205. Nice house.”
“Yeah. Now they saw this dude go alongside the house here on the left and then he disappeared. Let’s go see what we can see that they may have missed,” he said.
“Hmmm, that’s one dense fence,” Colbi said. She giggled at her rhyme. “Like terse verse.”
“What?” Damon crinkled his brow.
“Never played terse verse?” she asked.
“Uh, no,” he admitted.
“I’ll have to teach you sometime.”
Damon just shook his head and continued focusing on the ivy-covered fence. “Solid,” he said.
“Full of bugs and spiders—maybe snakes,” Colbi said. “I’m not going near it.”
“Here are some gloves, if you want,” he offered.
“No thanks.”
Damon continued to push against the long expanse of fence. Colbi walked along it looking, but not touching.
“Here!” he whispered loudly. “Check it out—here’s a way to the other side of this fence. Come on,” he said, as he pushed through the ivy curtain. When he didn’t see her appear next to him, he stepped back, held the ivy wall open, and urged her to come through. She hesitated, then pulled her jacket collar up, held it tightly in both hands, and rushed through to join him on the other side.
Damon grabbed Colbi’s hand and pulled her into a stand of shrubs. “Now there’s a granny flat,” he said. “That’s probably where he lives. I noticed driving in that most of these places have granny flats.” He looked around. “And this is so private back here, those rich folks and their neighbors probably don’t even know anyone’s living here.”
“Yeah, looks lived in—oh, is that a coyote over there?” Colbi said.
“In the pen?”
“Yeah,” she said breathlessly. She spread the branches a little so she could see more clearly. “Oh no, it’s a Queensland mixed with something else—sure looks like a coyote,” she said.
“Is that Rags?” Damon whispered.
“Where?” Colbi looked around excitedly.
“In the window.”
“Oh my gosh, it is—that’s Rags. Look at him; he sure wants out of there.”
“Shhhh,” Damon said. “There he is.”
The couple squatted down into the densest part of the shrub row and watched as the man known as Barnaby, still wearing his cloak, stepped out the door of the small house. He walked over to the dog pen and opened the gate.
“Oh no,” Colbi whispered, barely able to breathe. “He’s going to let the dog out.”
Instead, he tossed a meaty bone to the dog and slammed the gate shut. He then turned, looked around the area, and headed for the ivy curtain that so perfectly hid the opening in the fence. Just then they heard the faint toot of a car horn.
“Stay here,” Damon said as he darted toward the hole in the fence. He peered through the opening and watched for a moment, then rushed back toward where Colbi hid and took out his phone. “Craig, Barnaby is in a taxi just leaving the 1205 address. It’s cab number twenty-three,” he said. “We have the cat. What?” Damon paused and then he said, “Never mind Craig, I’ll tell you about it later. Now go get that creep!”
“Look!” Colbi said. “Rags sees us. Look how excited he is. Let’s go get him.”
Still wearing his gloves, Damon carefully tried the doorknob, and it turned. When he swung the door open, Rags walked up to them and began rubbing in and out of their legs. “Come on boy, let’s get you home to your mama,” he said as he picked up the cat.
By then the dog was riled and he began to bark. The couple pushed through the ivy screen and rushed along the side of the house toward Damon’s car, when they heard a voice behind them. “Hey, what are you two doing?”
Colbi turned around to see an old man standing on the porch of the large home. Two white poodles sat at his feet, barking in their direction. “Sorry,” she said, “but our cat wandered away and we found him in your yard.”
“Oh, okay,” he said. “Glad you found him.”
Once they were safely in the car and on their way to the Iveys, Colbi used Damon’s phone to call Savannah’s cell. “Savannah, do you hear that?”
“What?” she asked suspiciously. “Sounds like a cat.”
“It’s your cat—he’s talking to you.”
“What!?” Savannah exclaimed.
“We have Rags in the car with us—we’re on our way home with him.”
“Rags? Oh my gosh! Where did you find him? I can’t believe it. I’m calling Michael right now.”
“Okay, see you in about ten minutes, but before you go, listen.” She held the phone up to Rags as he paced in the backseat.
“Meooowwww, meooooooow.”
“Did you hear that, Savannah?”
“Sure did. Oh Colbi, I am so excited. Thank you.”
It was almost exactly ten minutes later when Damon drove into the Iveys’ driveway and parked. Rags climbed between the seats and was standing on the console meowing out the front window when Michael pulled up in his vet truck. Savannah walked out onto the porch.
“I’ll get him,” Damon said to Colbi. “He’s one big cat, and heavy.”
Colbi waited until he was out of the car and had Rags in his arms, then she opened the passenger door and stepped out. “Oh no,” Damon said.
Colbi looked over and saw the cat push off of Damon and leap to the ground, racing around to the south side of the house. “Rags, Rags, come back!” Damon said as he chased after him.
Michael saw what had happened and quickly climbed out of his truck, jogging in the direction he’d seen the cat go. Savannah rushed to the south side of the porch and looked around to see where the cat was taking Michael and Damon.
“He went behind that flower bush,” Damon said.
“What’s he doing back there?” Michael questioned. “Why is he running from us?” He leaned over and pulled the bush away from the house. The cat was nowhere to be seen.
“There’s a hole.” Damon noticed. “Can he fit through that hole? He didn’t come out on the other side of the bush, so he must have gone in there. Where does it go? Under the house, right?”
“Well, I’ll be,” Michael said raking his fingers through his hair.
Just then, Colbi shouted, “There he is!”
“Where?” Savannah asked, looking to see where Colbi was pointing.
“Behind you in the window,” she said.
Savannah spun around and saw her cat sitting up on the catwalk around the large kitchen window. “How did he get in there?” she asked. And then she called out, “Michael, he’s in the house.”
Savannah rushed over to the door, pushed it open, and walked in. “Rags!” she said, wrapping her arms around him. Colbi followed Savannah in and the two men trailed after her.
“Rags!” Michael said shaking his head.
“Oh thank
heavens,” Colbi said, rushing over to scratch the top of the cat’s head.
“Where did he come from?” Michael asked. “Did anyone see?”
“No, but he obviously has a way in…and out,” Savannah said in disgust.
“It has to be fairly close around here,” Colbi reasoned. “He showed up here so fast.”
Michael looked around the room. That’s when he noticed that the pantry door was open. He walked through the kitchen toward the service porch, peered into the pantry, and scratched his head.
Suddenly, Damon got down on his hands and knees and he started removing boxes and cans from the floor-level shelf. “Hmmm, cat hair,” he said.
“Cat hair?” The cats don’t even come in here,” Michael said, “do they Savannah?”
“No, not that I know of.”
Just then Rags broke away from the ladies and ambled over to see what Michael and Damon were looking at. He jumped over a box of cereal that Damon had moved out of the way and put his paw on a floor board. To everyone’s surprise, the board flipped up on one side exposing the crawl space under the house. Rags pushed his head toward the opening, then raised up and walked back into the room.
“Will ya look at this,” Michael said. “That bad boy cat has been slipping out through here—here’s more of his fur. Well, I’ll be. Rags, you’re not only a kleptomaniac, you’re a Houdini.”
Everyone laughed. Savannah was the first to become solemn. “Michael, can you fix that?” Suddenly she became panicky. She said, “Oh my gosh, what if the baby kitten had followed him out or Buffy? They’d get lost for sure.”
“Yes, I can fix it, and that’s what I’m going to do this minute.” He turned toward Rags. “Say goodbye to your window to adventure, buddy.”
Once Damon had finished helping Michael make the repairs, he said, “Well, I have to get back to work.”
“Me too,” Michael said as the two of them joined the women in the kitchen. He walked over and scratched Rags, who sat in a chair next to Savannah, watching the activity. Just then, they heard a loud mew. All four of them turned in time to see little Dolly walking boldly toward them.
“Wow, I never heard her speak that loudly,” Colbi said. They watched as she marched over to the chair where Rags sat. She reached up and started batting at his tail. He reached down and patted her on top of the head. “She wants up in the chair with you, Rags,” Colbi said, lifting the kitten up and placing her next to the larger cat. Dolly rubbed against Rags and he began licking the top of her head.
“She’s glad to see you, too, Ragsy,” Savannah said, rubbing her hand along Dolly’s back. She then turned toward Colbi and Damon. “Hey, guys, I don’t know how to thank you for…” She waved her hand in front of her face. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. She stood and walked over to hug Colbi and then Damon. “Thank you so much.”
It was Colbi’s turn to cry. “Aren’t we a couple of saps?” she said.
The two women laughed through their tears. Damon and Michael smiled and shook their heads.
Once Savannah had regained her composure, she said, “The least we can do is treat you to dinner. How about we go out for a change?” She looked around at everyone.
“Sounds good to me,” Michael said.
“Sure,” Colbi and Damon agreed.
“Where?” Michael asked.
Savannah looked from one to the other.
“The diner’s okay with me—it’s fish and chips night,” Damon said.
“Okay then, let’s meet here for a toast at 6.”
Chapter Seventeen
“I hope it’s okay if I invited Craig over at six,” Damon said as he stepped inside the Ivey home that evening. “He says he has something to tell us.”
“Sure,” Savannah said. “He’s always welcome.”
“I wonder what kind of news he has,” Colbi said apprehensively, walking over to where Damon stood. “Gosh, I hope it’s good. I hope this nightmare is over.”
Damon put his arms around Colbi, enveloped her in a big bear hug, and kissed the top of her head. She looked up and smiled. He kissed her briefly on the lips.
“Wine, anyone?” Michael offered as he strolled into the room. “We have red and white and also some sparkling stuff.”
“Sparkling cider,” Savannah said.
“Red wine,” Colbi said.
Damon thought for a moment. “I’ll have the cider.”
Michael was on his way into the living room with a tray of drinks in their fancy antique wine glasses when the doorbell rang for a second time that evening. Since everyone else was seated by then, he set the tray down on the coffee table and headed for the door. “Hi Craig. Come on in. Can I get you wine, sparkling cider, water?”
The detective walked in, looked around, and said, “Oh heck, half glass of wine—got red?” he asked.
When everyone had their glasses in hand, Savannah held hers up toward the others and said, “To good friends. You’re all my heroes.”
Everyone responded, “Here, here.”
“To friends.”
“And heroes,” Colbi said, looking over at Damon, who sat next to her on the ottoman.
He winked at her and then asked Craig, “So what’s the latest?”
All eyes were on the detective as he smiled widely and said, “We got ’em guys.”
Everyone cheered.
Craig continued, “Damon, your lead on the cab helped us nab that crazy Dracula stalker.” He then frowned over at the younger man and said sternly, “And don’t ever do that again!”
Damon lowered his eyes, grinned a little, and said, “Okay. Yes sir. Sorry about that, but…”
“But nothing. Tend to your newspaper business—stay out of police business—youhear?”
“Yeah.”
Craig went on to explain, “It looks like there’s some DNA evidence in the crevices of his fancy walking stick.”
“What about the hoarders?” Colbi asked quietly.
“Oh yes, they found them holed up in a ritzy neighborhood in a small town in South Carolina. Dracula…Barnaby…or whatever his damn name is…is their son or maybe nephew. Not clear on that, yet. But theirs is one scam that won’t be operating again. Those people are going down,” Craig said in all seriousness.
“What I want to know is, how did he find me?” Colbi asked.
“Well, Barnaby knew where you lived. I believe he was the larger man that grabbed you that night. Our best guess is that he was watching your home. He followed you from there to here—probably the day you came home from the hospital. He may have been waiting at your place for you when you were released.”
Damon took Colbi’s hand. “Yeah, we went over to your place on our way here that day. Guess we weren’t very observant. I sure didn’t notice anyone, did you?” he asked.
Colbi rested her head on his shoulder. “No, sure didn’t.”
“Thank you, Craig,” Damon said.
“Yes,” Colbi said through sniffles. She walked over to give him a hug. “Thank you!”
Craig smiled. “Just doin’ my job,” he said.
“What in the heck?” Damon said.
Everyone looked in the direction he was staring. “What is that?” he asked.
Suddenly everyone began to laugh. There, working her way down the staircase with a stuffed toy in her mouth, was Dolly. She stopped on the next-to-last step, sat down, and stared over at the group.
“It’s one of Rags’s little stuffed bird toys,” Savannah said.
“Oh my gosh, don’t tell me Rags has taught her his klepto tricks,” Colbi said. She rushed over to pick up the kitten and the toy and sat back down with them in her lap. The kitten grabbed the bird with all four paws, rolled off of Colbi’s lap so she was between her and Damon, and kicked ferociously at the toy.”
Damon reached down and ran his finger along the kitten’s cheek. He smiled.
Savannah grinned and said, “You kind of like that little one, don’t you, Damon?”
“Ye
ah. Some cats are definitely kind of cool.”
“Well, we sure appreciate you coming to Rags’s rescue. Who knows what that crazed fool had in mind for him,” Savannah said choking up.
Damon was quiet for a minute and then he said, “Well, I guess I sorta owed him.”
Everyone waited for Damon to explain that statement.
He looked around the room and said, “Rags rescued me once.”
Michael cocked his head. “By sending you to prison?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about it. Because of Rags, I’m living a life I could never have imagined.” He reached over and took Colbi’s hand and then scratched the top of little Dolly’s head.
Read more books in the Klepto Cat Mystery series:
Catnapped
When Savannah Jordan agrees to help her aunt while she recovers from a broken foot, she doesn’t expect to walk into a mystery, become part of a not-quite-legal surveillance team, be kidnapped by a deranged stranger and meet a steaming hot veterinarian. Beloved neighborhood cats are missing—the community can only guess at their fate—and Aunt Margaret’s life is being threatened. Is it because she has a clue to the missing cats or is it something more sinister?
If you like light mysteries with only a little terror, if you’re infatuated with interesting cats and if you love a love story, you must read this book.
Cat-Eye Witness
Savannah and Aunt Margaret open the old Forster home to the Hammond Cat Alliance for a fundraiser to help rehabilitate the abused horses rescued months earlier from the catnappers.
Before the afternoon is over, the collected funds go missing and someone is murdered in an upstairs bedroom.
Suspicion surrounds Iris, a local waitress and Savannah’s new best friend. The only witness to the murder is Rags, Savannah’s cat. With the assistance of a cat psychic and Rags’s good friend, Charlotte (the young girl with Downs), the cat helps to “paw” the killer…but not before an attempt is made on Rags’s life. The case is solved only after Rags comes face-to-face with the killer for the second time.
Detective Craig Sledge is new to this book, as is Damon, Iris’s errant son. Sledge finds this to be one of the muddiest cases he has ever worked, with inconsistent clues and no apparent motive. He’s constantly surprised, perplexed and impressed by the cat’s uncanny ability to come up with clues he has missed. His fascination with the attractive Iris Clampton also mystifies the detective.