The Corral Cat Caper (Klepto Cat Mystery Book 7)

by Patricia Fry

  "For what?" he asked.

  "I ruined your honeymoon for nothing," she wailed.

  "Hey, it wasn't your idea to ride out here, remember?" he said. "And it wasn't a lost cause. We know who's been terrorizing the Teagues. Don't you think they'll be pleased to find out it's not a big rustling ring?"

  Savannah twisted in her saddle and looked back at Craig. "Yeah, you're right about that. But I hope someone will catch that kid before he does some real damage. He hit me with a rock, for heaven's sake."

  "Yeah, he's going down for that, if we determine he has a brain in his head. If he's mental like his aunt says, they'll probably just put him away in a rubber room."

  "A rubber room?" she said laughing, through her tears.

  "I hope he's a candidate for jail."

  "But his aunt says…"

  Craig waved his hand in the air. "Yeah, yeah, that's how some families protect their young-uns. They claim disabled, handicapped, mentally challenged—‘he didn't know what he was doing,'" he said mimicking an over-protective parent. "So the kid never gets the appropriate punishment for his crimes and he just keeps on committing them."

  Savannah pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped her eyes. She took a ragged breath. "Really?" she said.

  "I'm afraid so. It's a real puzzle to try figuring out which kid…and sometimes which adult…to put in jail and which ones to mollycoddle."

  "So you have to be a psychologist along with everything else," she said. "…a protector, enforcer, mediator, psychic, judge."

  "That's about the size of it," he said with a chuckle.

  "So how are you doing there, cowboy?" she asked as they approached the Teague place.

  "Not bad," he said as if surprised. "But tomorrow is another day. I may feel the pain then."

  "Are you leaving on your honeymoon tomorrow?" she asked.

  "I think so. I don't see any reason why I need to stay. Jim and his boys won't have any trouble picking up the lone horse rustler. They don't need me standing around in the way. And my new wife has her heart set on shopping in some of those beach communities. She may come home with a whole new wardrobe."

  As they approached the first pasture gate, Savannah said, "Hey Craig, watch this." She stopped Zeke so he was parallel to the gate. She reached down and unlatched it and nudged the gelding so he would sidestep away from the gate, opening it for Craig to ride through.

  "Impressive," he said.

  "Yeah, now let's see if we can close it."

  Craig watched. Once the gate was latched, he tipped his hat and said, "You're quite a cowgirl, cowgirl."

  Savannah smiled as she dismounted and locked the heavy-duty padlock, stuffing the key back into her pocket.

  "So how did it go, guys?" Bonnie asked as she walked up to greet the riders.

  "Kinda wild and crazy," Savannah said. "I got pelted with rocks. We found out that Elsie is twins, and we located my horse, only she wasn't there."

  Bonnie gave Savannah a wide-eyed stare and then looked at Craig.

  "She's right," he said, with a sideways grin. "That's exactly what happened." He climbed down off the horse, hanging onto one stirrup for a minute while getting his balance. "Oh," he said, "and we know who the rustler is."

  Savannah nodded. "Yes, he works alone—he's the lone rustler."

  "Who is it?" Bonnie asked excitedly. "Did you arrest him? What happened to your horse?"

  "Well, the rustler is Elsie and Elsie's nephew," Savannah started.

  "Wait, there are two Elsies—twins, you say?"

  "Yes, it's not one with bipolar, it's two with very different personalities."

  "I'd say so," Bonnie agreed.

  "…and the same name," Savannah added. She continued, "The lone rustler is a kid—well, what did they say, he's twenty-four, but with a low mentality."

  "We couldn't find him to arrest him," Craig said. "But they will find him. You let the sheriff's office know if you see him around here again, will you?"

  "Sure will," Bonnie said. Then she asked Savannah quietly, "Where's your horse?"

  "Well, she was out behind the old shack—practically the only place we hadn't looked. But she's gone now." She stomped her foot. "Dang, it makes me mad! We came so close to getting her back." She turned toward Zeke, unbuckled the rear cinch, released the front cinch and eased the saddle off. "Do you want it on the rack in the tackroom?" she asked.

  "Yeah. How'd Zeke perform for you?" Bonnie asked when Savannah returned. "Perfect," Savannah said, patting him on the neck.

  "She even got him to open the gates," Craig added.

  "Really?" Bonnie said. "So he responded to you? That's awesome."

  Once the horses were cooled down, watered, and put away and the riders were adequately hydrated, Craig said, "I'd better get home to my wife." He turned to Savannah. "Thanks for the…um…adventure," he said, winking.

  She waved as he walked toward his car, and called after him, "Happy honeymoon." She then asked Bonnie, "Where are your students?"

  "On lunch break. They'll walk the trail course, then we'll ride to the swimming hole so the kids can splash around."

  "Sounds fun." She hugged her friend. "Thank you again, Bonnie. Let's hope we hear good news soon. I'll be in touch."

  ****

  Later that afternoon, Savannah was in her kitchen when she heard a rap on the side kitchen door. "Auntie, hi," she said upon unlocking the door and opening it.

  "Hi yourself. Good to see that you're remembering to lock your doors," Margaret said. "So whatcha doing?"

  "Puttering. What are you doing?"

  "Just out walking. I'm getting kind of addicted to walking, lately. In fact," she said, grinning at Savannah, "I think I'm just about ready to walk with you."

  Savannah chuckled. "Is that right? You mean, you think you can keep up with me?"

  "I think so," Margaret said with confidence. "Wanna give it a try?"

  Savannah glanced toward the living room. "Well, not right now. Lily's asleep and I'm…"

  "Yeah, I know, ‘puttering,'" Margaret said. She frowned. "What does that mean?"

  "Well, it's something I do when I feel as though I should be doing something," Savannah explained. "I wipe down the counters and the table when they don't actually need it. I shine the already shiny faucet, I scrub clean cabinets and reorganize things in the cupboards, when I'd rather be…oh, outside enjoying the pretty day. In fact," she said, "how about joining me on the porch for a glass of iced tea?"

  "Sounds good; but only if…" Margaret started.

  "If what?" Savannah asked, while pouring two glasses of iced tea.

  "…you stop that annoying, unnecessary, useless puttering."

  Both women laughed.

  Meow !

  Savannah looked down at Rags, who had just entered the kitchen. "How does he always know?" she asked.

  "Know what?"

  "Know when we're going out. He wants to go out with us and I think I know why," Savannah said.

  "Why?" Margaret asked. "To go burgle the neighborhood?"

  "No," Savannah said. "He doesn't do that here. That's in his past. He's reformed."

  "Yeah, right." Margaret laughed out loud. "Now he only steals from your guests."

  "Auntie, would you take those glasses of tea out while I put his harness on?" Savannah said. Once Rags was outfitted, Savannah grabbed the baby monitor and they stepped out onto the porch.

  "So you didn't tell me why he wants to go outside," Margaret said.

  "He wants to see if Peaches is home," Savannah explained somberly.

  "Really?"

  "Yes, ever since Bonnie started boarding her, when I became pregnant, Rags has acted as if he misses her. When we'd take him out, he'd want to visit the corral. Once he'd see that she wasn't home yet, he'd go explore somewhere else. But since she's been missing, it's as if he has a sixth sense about it; now he seems to be grieving."

  "Does he miss that little kitten you brought home from Big Sur—Tommy?"

  "Oh no
, he was not in favor of us adopting him. So it's just as well that Iris and Craig took him."

  "What does he do…I mean to show he misses the horse?" Margaret asked.

  "Well he stares out at her corral. Every day when we would normally feed Peaches, Rags gets up on his window perch and looks out as if he expects to see her. And he wants to go out more. When we let him out, he heads for the corral. Well, you can see that he's tugging as far as he can against the tether. Come on, I'll show you," Savannah said as she allowed slack on the leash.

  Rags darted off the porch and headed across the lawn toward the corral; the women followed.

  "I'm having trouble keeping up with him. See how eager he is to go out there?"

  Margaret nodded. "Yes. He's determined, isn't he?"

  "But watch what happens when we get there," Savannah said.

  Just before they reached the corral, Rags stopped. He sat down and stared at the empty pen. Then he climbed up a wooden fence post and walked along the top rail. He stared down at the water trough and food bin, strained to look toward the other end of the corral and then perched on the gate post. "He'll sit there all day if I let him," Savannah said. "Generally, he won't budge until I lift him down and carry him back to the house."

  "Well, I'll be. I didn't know he and the horse were such great friends," Margaret said, reaching out and running her hand down the cat's back.

  "Yeah, several weeks ago I bought Charlotte a big poster of a horse for her room. It looked a lot like Peaches and I thought she'd like it. She did; and so did Rags. When I brought it out to show Michael, Rags noticed it and immediately made eye contact with the horse in the picture. He stared at it for a long time and then he started rubbing on it. He had it covered with cat hair before I could give it to Charlotte. I got pictures," she said, pulling her phone out and flipping through the photo roll to show Margaret.

  "Oh my gosh, how cute…and sad," she said.

  "Yeah, sad—poor guy is in mourning."

  "What does he do when Peaches is here?" Margaret asked.

  "Hangs out with her a lot. When she sees him coming across the grass, she whinnies or nickers. She sometimes whinnies when she sees him through the kitchen window. He'll sit up there on that post and they look at each other and sometimes nuzzle."

  "Doesn't the horse knock him off the post nuzzling him?" Margaret asked.

  "Yes, sometimes. But I think she's learned that she can't be too rough with him. It's really rather touching to watch them. I think Michael has some pictures of the two of them on his phone."

  Just then Savannah said, "Oh Rags, we gotta go in. Baby sister's awake."

  "Oh goodie. Can I go get her?"

  "Sure," Savannah said. "Want to change her? I'll warm a bottle and meet you on the porch."

  Margaret glanced back at her niece. "Have you stopped nursing?"

  "No. I just give her a bottle once a day, so she remains versatile—you know, so when you're entertaining her, she'll take a bottle or for when we're in public."

  ****

  That evening over dinner, Savannah peered across the table at her husband. "Michael, remember when I told you about my premonition dream? Well, today Craig and I found the corral I saw in my dream. According to Elsie Beth, there was a horse in there. She seemed surprised to see it was gone. Michael, I'm positive it was Peaches."

  He laid down his fork and clasped his hands in front of him. "Now what makes you think it was her?"

  Savannah pressed her lips together. "Well, Peaches is missing, the Elsies' nephew has been on the Teagues' property caught on camera trying to take an animal, his aunt says he has a horse, and…well, those people are just weird."

  Michael stared at her and then picked up his fork and proceeded to eat his dinner. "I can't get over the fact that Elsie is two people—that there are two Elsies," he said.

  "Yes, twins. Bipolar twins. One's nice and one's…not so much."

  "And the authorities think the old gals' nephew is responsible for all the chaos at Bonnie's and Barney's?"

  "Yes. They're pretty sure."

  "Why is he doing this, do they know?"

  "I guess for their use—milk, meat on the table, and transportation. According to Elsie Beth, their nephew was getting the animals in exchange for work he was doing for local ranchers." She smirked. "Gullible, aren't they?"

  "Maybe lazy," Michael said. "You know we've talked about lazy parenting before—parents who take the easy way out rather than make waves and actually teach their kids something useful for their future." He looked at Savannah and asked, "Did they raise the kid?"

  "I'm not sure how long he's been with them. But he doesn't actually live with them."

  "Where does he live?"

  Savannah took a sip of tea. "In the brush. He camps. Sleeps out under the stars. Elsie Sue told me he has a sleep disorder and that he prefers being out in the open."

  "So that's why those two elderly gals homesteaded that rundown place?"

  "It appears so. Do you know if they even have a phone, Michael? Does Elsie Sue call you to make an appointment for her raccoon and the dog?" Savannah asked.

  "From what I understand, she does have an old cell phone. They have to take it into town to charge it, so it works only sporadically. I did see a generator in the yard that day we stopped, but I'll bet they don't run it very often. How would they haul in gas to run it?" Michael buttered a piece of bread while asking, "So what was it like inside the place?"

  "It's pretty primitive. There are slats missing from the floor—you can see the ground underneath. You saw the tarps all over the roof—obviously it leaks when it rains. They have very few household belongings in there—two small mattresses on the floor in one room. Then there's a living room and kitchen all in one."

  "Do they have a bathroom?"

  "I saw an outhouse, but it looked abandoned. I didn't see any facilities in the shack.

  Gosh, I can't imagine those two old gals without a bathroom. Come to think of it, there wasn't even a faucet in the kitchen area—just a drainboard and sink." She shook her head. "What a strange way to live. You know, someone really ought to help those old gals get some proper housing. They must have a pension or Social Security. They shouldn't be living out like that in the harsh elements. It's not civilized."

  Michael grinned at Savannah. "Well now there's a project for you in your spare time."

  The couple continued to eat in silence as Lily sat in her baby chair, chewing on her plastic keys. She watched as Lexie and Walter played a game of chase through the house. Rags sat next to the baby out of the way of the activity and Buffy lay curled up in one of her canopy beds, which Savannah had moved into the kitchen earlier that day.

  After dinner, Michael said, "How about I get Lily ready for bed while you clean up in here."

  "Okeydokey," Savannah agreed.

  Just as she finished kitchen duty, her cell phone rang.

  "Is this Savannah Ivey?"

  "Yes," she said.

  "This is Ramon Gonzales. I think we have the suspect who took your horse. Would you like to come down and identify him?"

  "You got my horse back? Where is she?" Savannah shouted excitedly.

  "Uh, no ma'am. We didn't find the horse. We had an APB on this guy and we picked him up, is all."

  "Well, I don't think I could identify him. I haven't actually seen him, except at a distance—and then I wasn't absolutely sure it was him. I do have a picture of that man on my phone, but it's hard to see his features. I can tell you that he wears camouflage clothes and he has a fairly fresh, gnarly gash or deep scratches on the inside of his right arm."

  "Oh," the sergeant said, sounding surprised, "that describes him, all right."

  "I understand he's a little slow—you know, mentally. Have you been in contact with his aunts?"

  "No, do you know where they are?"

  "They live in a rundown shack about three miles from the highway in the brush. Actually, I'd like to talk to someone about their situation. I don't th
ink it's healthy or safe for them to live out there. They're elderly and have no modern conveniences. I think they need help."

  There was silence on the other end of the phone. Finally, the sergeant said, "Well, that's strange, isn't it?"

  "Is that where you found this guy?" she asked. "He lives out there somewhere, too."

  "Yes, we found him hitchhiking near that dirt road that leads up into the hills near the east slope. He had a pocket full of rocks."

  "Oh yeah, he was throwing them at me this morning when I was out there talking to his aunts."

  "So you aren't going to be able to ID him?"

  "Probably not, but I can send you the picture I took of the guy I think was him."And Craig has his DNA. At least he has the DNA of the guy who tried to steal my cats while they were at the Teague stables."

  "So Sledge has his DNA, huh?" the sergeant said, sounding very interested now. "I'll see if I can get it. I'll also go out tomorrow to check on the old gals you mentioned." He hesitated before saying, "Since you know them, would you like to go with me?"

  Savannah took in a deep breath and let it out. "Oh gosh, I don't know if that would be a positive or negative as far as helping the twins."

  "They're twins?" he asked.

  "Yes, identical," she said. "Only one's sweet and one's kinda mean. The mean one calls the shots and she doesn't like me very much. Hey Sergeant, what do you know about the system? Can you help them find a more suitable place to live closer to town?"

  "Yeah, that was my job before I joined the force. I think I can help them get into adequate housing. With their nephew in the system, they may have no reason to stay out there like that," he said. He then asked, "Can you drive a car back there?"

  "Oh no," Savannah said. "Do you have a motorcycle? Or we can walk in."

  "The department has a couple of dirt bikes. Can you ride?" he asked Savannah.

  "I actually used to ride a little as a kid," she said. "I could probably manage."

  "You're one game woman, Savannah," he said.

  She choked up a little before saying, "I want my horse back." Taking in a deep breath, she added, "And I'd like to help those old gals, if I can."