Cats in the Belfry

by Patricia Fry

  “No!” Savannah shouted when she saw the man move around in front of her. Before he could put his hands on her, she lurched past him and somehow tripped him and he fell to the floor.

  “Get her!” the woman shouted.

  He rose to his feet and this time he caught up to Savannah, grabbed one arm, and held her until the woman joined him. They moved with her into another dimly lit room and pushed her down onto a sofa.

  “Hold her,” the woman said as she walked away.

  “Who are you?” Savannah asked, unable to make out her features in the low light.

  “Rita, your new teacher,” the woman said with feigned innocence.

  There’s that danged evil laugh again, Savannah thought. She strained to see the woman. “Where’s my cat?” she demanded.

  “You won’t be needing a cat,” Rita said from across the room. “…not where you’re going.” She cackled again, then said dramatically, “Although you may actually see him there. Yes, Nelson, don’t you think we should let the cat follow her? Yes, yes,” she said excitedly, “that’s a good idea. Where is he, anyway? Nelson,” she asked, rather impatiently, “what did you do with the cat?”

  The hooded man motioned with his head. “Down the hall.”

  “No!” Savannah shouted, “just let him go. Let both of us go. We won’t bother you again. You have my promise.” She began to cry.

  “Awww, don’t cry now,” Rita said. “It’ll all be over soon. My work, you see, is much more important than you, that cat, and your little family. You’re insignificant in the big picture and the big picture is all I’m concerned with at the moment.”

  Savannah could see the outline of the woman as she walked into the hallway. She heard a door open and Rita said, “Come out, kitty-cat. Come out and share your fate with your busybody owner.” But before the woman could return to the living room with Rags on the end of his leash, he ran in the opposite direction, pulling her off balance. She fell against the wall and let go of the leash. “Damn cat!” she shouted. “Oh never mind. I’ll deal with you later. First your owner—Ms. Savannah.” She picked up something from a table.

  It appears to be a small bottle, Savannah noticed. She began struggling to free herself from the man’s grip, but to no avail. He had her pinned against the sofa. There was nothing she could do but watch as the woman approached with the bottle in her hand. Rags, she thought. Maybe Rags will sense the danger and do something.

  “If they ever find you,” the woman said, “they’ll think you decided to commit suicide. You’d been told the class was cancelled. Your dear teacher is dead, after all. And you knew the classroom would be empty—a good place to end your miserable life.” She stopped and seemed to be pondering her idea. “Yes, Nelson, we could leave her remains at the classroom. Good idea!”

  “No!” Savannah shouted again. “No! You can’t do this!” She tried to look into the woman’s face, but noticed she wore a mask made of some sort of gauzy material. She couldn’t even make out her hair color.

  Once she was close enough, the woman grabbed Savannah’s ponytail and pulled her head back, then leaned forward with the small bottle, bringing it closer and closer to Savannah’s lips.

  Suddenly there was an ear-shattering crash and the room lit up like a busy night on Broadway. Everyone froze upon seeing a uniformed officer scramble to his feet after jumping in through the window. Before anyone could react, a second officer leaped through the broken window and rushed the woman, knocking her off her feet. Within seconds, the first officer pulled the man off of Savannah and quickly unlatched the front door, letting in two more officers—one of whom ushered Savannah outside and into Craig’s arms.

  “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” Savannah said sobbing against Craig’s chest.

  “Are you all right, honey?” Craig asked.

  “Yes, just scared…oh, Craig, she was going to…”

  He held her close and patted her. “It’s okay, honey. Just let it out.”

  In the meantime, Margaret put her hand on Savannah’s back and rubbed it. “Here, let me help her to sit down,” Margaret said. She led Savannah to a small retaining wall that surrounded the grass in the front yard and sat down with her. “What happened, Vannie?”

  “I don’t know,” she said between sobs. “There’s a weirdo man and even weirder woman in there and they decided we need to be punished.” Savannah took a few shallow breaths.

  “We?” Margaret questioned.

  “Yes, you and me.” She sniffled. “We disturbed her peace.”

  “What are you talking about?” Margaret insisted.

  Savannah shook her head and groaned. “Oh, I don’t know, it’s all so unreal—surreal.” She suddenly stood up and nearly shouted, “Rags! Rags is in there with those creeps.”

  Margaret gently pulled her back down onto the wall. “Just stay here, they’ll take care of Rags. Craig knows he’s in there.” Just then, Margaret did a double-take. “What was that?”

  “What?” Savannah asked, her eyes still overflowing with tears.

  “Someone just ran out of there.”

  “Where?”

  Margaret pointed. “They went between those two houses. Whoever it was wore a sort of filmy dark blue or black cape or dress.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Savannah said. “That sounds like the woman who was trying to kill me. She got away?” she screeched. When she saw three officers step out of the house, she pointed and shouted, “She went that way! My aunt saw her go between those two houses!” The women watched as the officers ran in the direction she indicated.

  Just then Craig appeared with Rags in his arms. “Here’s your cat.” He chuckled. “He sure nailed that guy in there. Evidently while the officer was trying to get the bottle of whatever that was from the woman, the man pulled a knife. Rags jumped him and he lost his balance and fell. He hit his head on something.”

  “He’s dead?” Savannah asked, her voice shrill.

  Craig nodded. “And she got away.”

  “So that was her we saw just now?”

  “Yes. Do you know who she is?” he asked.

  “I don’t have a clue,” Savannah said. “Some loony tunes who has it in for me and Auntie.” She swallowed hard. “She says we’ve disturbed her peace.”

  Margaret tilted her head. “Out at the seminary?”

  “Probably.” Savannah looked pleadingly at Craig. “Can I go home now? I just want to go home.”

  “Sure. But we’re putting a guard on you.” He stared into her eyes and took a serious stance. “Do not get out of his sight. Do you hear me? And do not let him go, no matter what happens. In fact, I think I’ll put two people out there at your place. They’ll be there when you arrive home.”

  “Okay, Craig,” Savannah said, hugging Rags to her. She stood and walked with her aunt and two sheriff’s officers toward her car.

  ****

  “What’s wrong, hon?” Michael asked when Savannah walked into the house with Margaret a few minutes later. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Worse,” she said.

  Michael approached Savannah and took Rags from her. “Here, sit down. Tell me what happened.” He kneeled in front of her.

  “A woman tried to kill her,” Margaret explained.

  “Who?” he demanded. “Your teacher?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t think she was really the teacher. I believe she got me there under false pretenses.”

  “What did she want, for cripe’s sake?” he asked.

  “She said Auntie and I were disturbing her peace.”

  Michael stood up, ran his hand through his hair, and paced across the living room, muttering, “Good Lord.” He stopped and asked, “Where were you, Maggie?”

  “I had to go to the car for something and when I came back, I heard strange voices. I noticed the door was locked and I listened. What I heard didn’t seem to be someone reading their story, so I decided I’d better call Craig. He sent the riot police out ther
e and they broke in.”

  “Just in time, Michael,” Savannah said. “That crazy person wanted me to drink a potion.”

  Michael removed Rags’s harness, then sat down next to Savannah and held her tightly. “Oh hon, you must have been terrified.”

  “Yes.” She rubbed her stomach. “For both of us.”

  “Well, I’m leaving,” Margaret said. “Just wanted to make sure I delivered her home safely.”

  Michael stood and walked to the door with her. “Thank you, Maggie.” He opened the door, looked out, and asked, “Who’s that out there?”

  “Your guards,” Margaret said.

  “Guards?” he asked, glancing back at Savannah.

  She nodded. “Ordered by Detective Craig.”

  Michael ran his hand through his hair again. “So why the guards? Didn’t they arrest that woman?”

  Savannah shook her head. “Her accomplice is dead—Rags saw to that. But she’s on the loose. She got away.”

  He looked at Rags. “Rags…um…he killed someone?”

  “I guess he attacked the man when he saw a knife in his hand and the guy fell and hit his head.”

  “Good Lord.”

  ****

  The following morning Craig stopped in at the Iveys’ for coffee and a sweet treat. Upon seeing Savannah, he asked, “How are you this morning, honey?”

  “Still shaken, but okay.” She gazed at her baby daughter. “We’re all okay.”

  Craig smiled at Lily, then focused on Savannah. “So what do you think that was all about last night?”

  Savannah took a deep breath. “I’ve been trying to make sense of it. But I guess when you’re dealing with crazies, there’s no sense to be made. I believe there’s a connection between that woman’s wrath and the old seminary.” She looked expectantly at Craig. “Did you search that place?”

  He shook his head. “We haven’t caught a break. We can’t get in without breaking in.”

  “I told you that one door’s always open.”

  “No it isn’t—not anymore. We’re staking it out, and so far we haven’t seen anyone come or go—well, except for Luke. He picked up some traps last night and set a couple more. I think we’ll ask him to stop the trapping for now.”

  “But we’ll still have to go out there, Craig, to feed. And what about the black cats?”

  “Black cats?”

  “Yes. They live inside and someone’s been taking care of them, I’m sure of it. Oh wait—the woman last night, she said the black cats will be gone. Oh my gosh, they’re beautiful cats. I think she plans to destroy them. We need to get them out of there.”

  “How?” he asked. “The place is locked up. I mean, we can sure pull boards off the windows and break in, and we will if we need to, to get to the murderer or to save those cats, I guess. But that’s our last resort.”

  The two of them sat silently for a moment, then Craig said, “Iris tells me you girls are planning some sort of mystic thing out at that place Friday night.”

  “Oh, I’d forgotten about that,” Savannah said. “I’d better call Rochelle and cancel that nonsense.”

  “What nonsense?” Craig asked, a crooked smile on his face.

  She stared at him. “You want us to go ahead with that—after what has happened? What are you thinking, Craig?”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Yes. I think you ought to go ahead with the plan. If it takes you out there, we might be able to work our way in without the perp knowing we’re even there.” He grinned. “…unless, of course, she’s actually psychic.”

  Savannah remained silent for several moments. Finally she asked, “What did you find out about the guy who died?”

  “Oh him? Not much. It’s as if he landed on earth yesterday just before your encounter with him. We have absolutely nothing to go on other than you said she called him Nelson. He has no significant birthmarks, carried no ID, and he had no viable fingerprints.”

  “You couldn’t identify him through his fingerprints? Why?”

  “He’d evidently burned his hands fairly recently.”

  “On purpose, do you think?”

  Craig nodded. “Could be, I guess, or someone did it to him.”

  “Wow, I’ll bet you don’t see that very often.”

  “No. However, there are other factors that can cause fingerprints to be compromised. I’ve actually seen a few of them: chemo used for cancer can destroy fingerprints on some patients. And there are people actually born without fingerprints. It’s a rare genetic disorder and often affects more than one member of a family.”

  “Odd,” Savannah said.

  Craig grinned at her. “You’re stalling.”

  “Huh?”

  “I want to know if you’ll go ahead with the Friday night thing.”

  She grinned. “Yeah, I guess I am stalling. Okay, we’ll be protected if we go ahead with it?”

  “Absolutely,” he said. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you or to my wife, for heaven’s sake.”

  “So what do you want us to do?”

  “Just go along with the program. We’ll be at the site where they pick you up. I understand that you’ll be shuttled to the secret place, which you’re assuming is the seminary.”

  “Right.”

  “We might be able to slip a plant in.” He looked at her. “Hey, can you tell me how you made reservations for this gig?”

  “Rochelle did it.”

  “Oh. Can you give me her phone number?”

  “Sure,” she said, writing it down for him. She looked up and asked, “Will it be a man or a woman?”

  “Never mind. Just know this: we will protect you all. No innocent bystanders will be harmed. I can promise you that.”

  Savannah let out a sigh. “Okay, I’ll see what courage I can muster by tomorrow.”

  Just then Savannah’s phone rang. “It’s my aunt.” She hesitated, then said, “I suppose I’d better take it.”

  At that, Craig stood up and started to head for the door. He gave Savannah a casual salute. “Thanks for the coffee and pie.”

  Before he could leave, however, she called out, “Wait, Craig.” She spoke into the phone, saying, “Craig’s here now. So what happened?”

  “I guess Luke was accosted this morning,” Margaret said. “He went out to the seminary to check the traps and someone began throwing rocks at him. He said he was able to load one trap into the van. He sprang the door on the other one and left it, then he hot-footed it out of there.”

  Savannah addressed Craig. “Auntie says someone threw rocks at Luke when he was out at the seminary checking the traps.”

  “Crap. How long ago? Did he see who it was?”

  Savannah asked, “Auntie, he wants to know how long ago and did he see the person at all?”

  “I’d say about half-hour or forty-five minutes. He didn’t say he saw anyone. And he left before he could feed the cats, so they still need to be fed.”

  Into the phone, Savannah said, “Maybe Michael and Max will go out there and take care of that this evening.” She then told Craig, “He didn’t see who it was. My aunt thinks this happened thirty or forty-five minutes ago.”

  “Where is he now?” Craig asked.

  “I suppose back at June Balcomb’s cat ranch.”

  “Okay, I’d better go talk to him. Thanks again.” He started to leave, but when Savannah stood up to see him out, he noticed that she was kind of shaky. He put his arms around her and held her for a moment. “Everything’s going to be okay, honey. That evil witch woman will never be able to hurt anyone again. We’ll make sure of it.”

  “Thanks,” she said, forcing a weak smile. She watched him walk toward the door, then said, “Craig, she killed Charmaine—she so much as told me so. Do you think she killed the man in the pond too?”

  “Probably.” He gave her an off-handed wave and left.

  ****

  “Are we all set?” Rochelle asked as she descended the staircase in
the Ivey home Friday night and joined Peter, Michael, and Savannah in their living room.

  “All set,” Savannah said. She kissed Michael. “See you guys later.”

  “Yeah, don’t wait up for us,” Rochelle said flippantly.

  Before Savannah could leave, Michael pulled her back. “Now Craig will be involved, right?”

  “Absolutely. He said he’ll be with us every step of the way.” She grinned. “We may even have a plant from the sheriff’s office among the group. We’re well covered. No worries.”

  “Then why are you trembling?” he asked, looking her in the eyes.

  “Excitement,” she lied. “I’m excited.” She made brief eye contact with Rochelle as they left the house.

  Several minutes later the two women pulled up in front of Iris’s home. Before Savannah could step out of the car, Iris appeared through the front door. She slipped into the backseat. “Whose car?” she asked. “Yours, Rochelle?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nice. I’d like to have one of these low, sleek numbers someday. I guess it could be soon, as the boys are both driving now. I no longer need the big clunker to chauffer them around in.” Iris was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Rochelle, you know what’s been going on around here, don’t you—I mean, out at the seminary?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I feel bad that I didn’t tell Peter more about it. I’m such an advocate for couples sharing everything. But…”

  “Yeah, there are some things best left either undone or unshared,” Iris said chuckling. She patted Rochelle’s shoulder. “We’ll be okay,” she said gently. “Craig will make sure of it.” She laughed. “You’ll have stories to tell your hubbies afterward, I imagine.”

  “I imagine so,” Savannah said. “Yeah, I only let Michael in on the bare minimum and he was not happy about me doing this, although he does trust Craig.” She sighed. “Iris, let’s just hope your husband’s little plan works.”