by Patricia Fry
“Oh, my gosh,” Michael said, resting his head in his hand.
“Matter, Daddy?” Lily chirped from her high chair. “Matter, Daddy?”
“What’s the matter?” he repeated. “Your cat, punkin, that’s what. Rags is a bad boy.”
“Bad cat,” the baby said, shaking her finger at Rags. “No-no, kitty!” she shouted.
Savannah and Michael laughed.
“So did you see him upchuck?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “But the woman showed me the stain.” Savannah cringed. “There’s more.”
“Oh no. Don’t tell me he caused a car accident.”
“No, Michael.”
He looked concerned. “Did he scratch a child?”
“No, just that Gravel guy.”
“Okay, give it to me. What did he do?” he asked.
Savannah walked to the buffet and picked up her handbag. “Well, I think he stole some money.”
“What?”
“Either that, or I have a fairy godmother.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a small velvet pouch, opened it, and revealed a handful of bills. “All hundreds,” she said, looking askance. “Michael, I don’t have the slightest idea where this came from.”
“Good lord,” he said, scooting his chair back and running his hand through his straight dark-brown hair. He took the money from her and examined it. “Is there anything else in the bag?” he asked. “Any sort of identification?”
“Not that I could find. I even turned it wrong-side out.” She thinned her lips. “There is something else, though. This very expensive-looking diamond ring.”
When Michael saw what his wife held in her hand, he let out a long, low whistle.
“What’s that, Daddy?” Lily asked, glancing around. “What’s that, Daddy?”
“What’s what?” he asked. When Lily tried to imitate the whistle sound with her voice, he laughed. “Daddy whistled.” He demonstrated for her. “That’s Daddy whistling.”
The toddler simply stared at him, a puzzled look on her face.
In the meantime, Savannah sat down next to him. “Michael what are we going to do?”
Instead of responding, he began counting. “Forty-five hundred dollars.” He picked up the ring again. “And this…”
“It must be worth thousands,” she said.
Michael leaned back in his chair. “You found this in your purse? And you don’t know how it got there?” He sighed deeply and gazed at her. “When did you first notice it?”
“I didn’t find it until Lily, Rags, and I got home around one. I reached into my purse for my sunglasses case and came up with this.”
“Where else did you go today?” he asked.
“The grocery store, Barbara’s day care. I’m sure it wasn’t in there before Auntie and I arrived at the library, because, when we got to Barbara’s, Lily saw Bradley with a My Little Pony and she wanted hers. I dug it out of my purse for her. The pouch wasn’t in there then.”
After thinking for a moment, he said, “So your purse must have been out of your sight at some point. I can’t imagine you carrying it with you while you were chasing after the homeless man.”
“You’re right. Actually, I didn’t have time to get it out of the car when Rags took off. But Auntie was there.” Suddenly she frowned. “Oh, dear. The car may have been unlocked while we were both chasing after Rags.” She winced. “I had the keys in my jacket pocket. When my aunt went back to get Jack out of the car, it had to have still been unlocked. She took the cat and both of our purses into the library and that’s when she locked the car.”
“Up, Mommy,” Lily chirped. “Up,” she insisted.
“Are you finished eating?” Savannah asked. “Want down?”
Lily squirmed in the high chair and nodded.
“Let me wash your hands and face,” Savannah cooed, running a baby washcloth under the warm water for a few moments.
Once Savannah had released Lily, Michael watched the toddler race toward the living room, then focused on Savannah, as she loaded the dishwasher. “So where was your purse when you were in the library? You say Maggie had it with her?”
“Well, it was sitting on the floor with hers behind her chair. So I guess someone could have walked past and dropped the pouch into it without either of us seeing them.”
Michael chuckled. “Usually you don’t leave a purse unattended for fear someone would take something out of it, not that someone would put something into it.” He thought for a moment, then asked, “So who was in the library besides young children and their parents this morning?”
She turned and faced him. “Let’s see—a few older students who seemed to be working on a school project, patrons dropping off books and checking out more books, people seeking shelter from the little squall we had around noon. That’s about it, I guess.” She laughed. “Ben and Franco stopped in just as we were finishing up. They said they wanted to see how a cat signs a book.”
“Were they in uniform?”
She nodded. When Michael became quiet, she asked, “What are you thinking?”
“Well, someone might have robbed a store and ducked into the library so they would blend in. When they saw the officers, they panicked and stashed the cash in your purse.” He picked up his phone. “I’d better call…” He let out a sigh. “…I started to say, Craig.”
“Yeah, we always rely on Craig, don’t we?”
He nodded sullenly, then said, as if thinking out loud, “I’ll let the deputies know what we have in case they’re aware of any robberies in the area.”
Savannah smiled brightly. “So this may not have actually been Rags’s doing, huh? That’s refreshing.”
“We can’t be sure of that. Let’s see what we find out from Jim or Ben.”
Before Michael could make the call, Savannah suggested, “Maybe that’s someone’s life savings and they accidently dropped it into my purse instead of their own.”
He looked at her. “If that’s the case—if it legitimately belongs to someone who was at the library today—it makes more sense that Rags was involved in the little bait-and-switch operation.”
He picked up the ring and examined it again “And if it legitimately belongs to someone, they’ll surely report their loss to the sheriff’s office.” He turned his phone on. “Yeah, let’s call Jim and see if we can solve this mystery.”
Before Michael could make the call, the house phone rang. “Probably a telemarketer,” Savannah said, walking toward where the phone sat on the buffet in the dining room. “Hello?”
“Hello, this is Lenore Kittredge. Is this Savannah Ivey?”
“Yes.”
“I want to let you know, I spoke with my attorney and I have a bill ready for you with regard to the cashmere sweater your cat ruined today.”
“Oh?”
“Now, you must understand, this is no ordinary cashmere sweater. I bought it in Scotland. I hand-picked the goats whose wool would be used and had it spun special for me—the dye lot is mine alone. So you see, that sweater cannot be replaced by one off the rack at a department store, as you so cavalierly suggested. It will cost thousands to travel to the small town where the mill is and go through the whole process again. That, my dear, is what you’ll be paying for.” Before Savannah could speak, Mrs. Kittredge added, “The bill will be hand delivered some time tomorrow. So watch for it. And I expect prompt payment, Mrs. Ivey, for the horrendous damage you allowed your cat to bring about.”
“Who was that?” Michael asked, when he noticed Savannah still staring down at the phone after she’d hung up.
Stunned, she looked up at him. “Um…that woman I told you about at the library. The one whose sweater Rags decided to cough up a fur ball on.” She tilted her head and announced as if disbelieving, “She wants travel expenses.”
“Travel expenses?” he repeated. “To the dry cleaners?”
“No, to Scotland to have another sweater made.”
&nb
sp; “What? Is this some sort of joke, Savannah?”
“That’s what she said.” Savannah addressed Rags, who was sitting nearby licking one of his paws. “Oh, Rags, couldn’t you have hurled your hairball at that homeless guy? Why this loony-tunes woman?” She turned to her husband. “Michael, she has an attorney!”
“Well, I don’t care if she has a whole courtroom full of attorneys, I’m not paying for a trip to Scotland so she can buy a sweater, for cripes’ sake.”
Savannah grimaced. “She wants to pick out a special goat—a cashmere goat.”
“What? Give me a break. That woman’s so full of it, Savannah.” He squinted at her. “Who is she, anyway?”
“I told you. Lenore Kittredge, the mayor’s wife.”
“Ohhh,” he said, rolling his eyes. “That woman.”
“You know her?”
“I know of her.” He shook his head. “Of all the people you could possibly have angered, your cat had to choose Lenore Kittredge.”
Near tears, Savannah took a deep breath and asked, “What did you find out when you called the sheriff’s office?”
“I talked to Jim. He said there have been no rings or large sums of cash reported missing. He’ll let us know if a report comes in. In the meantime, I suppose if someone put this pouch in your purse intentionally, you’ll be hearing from them before too long.”
****
“No word from Iris since last night, huh?” Michael asked the next morning when he joined Savannah in the kitchen.
“No. I checked the machine on the landline and voicemail on my cell. Nothing.”
When he noticed that his wife seemed stressed, he asked quietly, “Have you talked to Rochelle?”
She turned away from the stove where she’d been scrambling eggs. “No,” she said. Her face brightened. “Rochelle—what a good idea! Maybe she can use her psychic powers to tell us where Craig is. Yes, I should call her.” She wrapped her arms around Michael’s neck. “Thank you,” she said, breaking loose and reaching for her phone. She hesitated. “It’s only seven. Is it too early to call, do you think?”
“It’s pretty important, Savannah,” he reminded her. “I’d call.” When he saw her pick up her phone and start to walk away, he asked, “Want me to turn off the eggs? Are they done?”
“Oh yes. They should be. Yes, take them off the stove. There are biscuits in the oven.”
“Okay, got it. Go make the call.”
“Hi, Rochelle. Sorry to call so early, but it’s really important.”
“It’s okay, Savannah. I always enjoy hearing from you. And I am a bit of an early bird.” She asked, “What is it? You seem worried about something.”
“Rochelle, Craig’s missing and I wondered if you could possibly shed some light on what has happened and where he is.” All Savannah heard on the other end of the phone was silence. “Rochelle?”
“Oh, sorry. You caught me off guard.” She paused again. “You may not believe this, but I’ve been having these strange flashes and thoughts of the detective.”
“What kind of flashes and thoughts?”
“Oh, like a glimpse. I should have called someone—you or Iris, maybe—but we’ve been so busy here, I chose, instead, to try dismissing it. So you’re telling me he really is in trouble? I’m so sorry. I should have paid attention to what I was seeing.”
“What were you seeing?” Savannah asked eagerly.
“Let me focus for a moment.” It wasn’t long before Rochelle said, “It’s a bit unclear…oh wait…Savannah, I see him in a blind, behind a blind of sorts.”
“Like venetian blinds or mini-blinds?”
“No, like a duck blind—reeds, yes, reeds.”
“So, near a body of water?” Savannah asked, her tone becoming shrill.
“Yes, a pond perhaps, or small lake…”
“Could it be a river?”
“Could be,” Rochelle said. “Savannah, there’s something wrong.”
“Well, obviously, or he would be home.” She hesitated. “Do you know what it is? What’s wrong?”
“He’s been hurt. He’s not mobile.”
“Is someone holding him against his will?” Savannah asked.
Rochelle thought for a few moments. “I’m not sure. There are restraints, but I can’t see what the nature of them are. I mean, he could be hurt and unable to move or he could be physically restrained.”
“Can you sense anyone around him?”
“No.” After several moments, she said, “Savannah, I can’t be sure…it doesn’t seem realistic, but I’m aware of cats.”
“Cats?” Savannah repeated.
“Yes.” More excitedly, she said, “the image is becoming clearer. Yes, he has met with an accident. It could have been deliberate. It appears he’s immobilized near a body of water and yes, there are cats with him.” She took a deep breath. “Now, Savannah, I’ve been wrong before, but this sense is pretty strong. I believe this is where Craig is waiting for someone to find him.”
“Where, Rochelle? Can you be any more specific about where this is?”
After thinking about it, she said, “No. Just look for the tall reeds around the water…and the cats. That’s where you’ll find him.” After hesitating, she added, “He’s not too far from his home.”
“Oh, that’s helpful,” Savannah said. “Thank you—so he’s somewhere local here. That’s a huge help. I’ll call Iris right away. Thank you so much, Rochelle.”
“Certainly. Call me once he’s home and safe, will you?”
“Yes.”
Before ending the call, Rochelle said, “Oh, Savannah. Be careful. Tell whoever goes after him to be careful. It’s a…how should I put this…rather volatile situation. I sense danger.”
Savannah hesitated, then thanked Rochelle again and ended the call.
****
“Cats?” Margaret repeated later that morning when Savannah told her about Rochelle’s message and warning.
“Yes. Iris has passed along the information to authorities and they’re out searching all the bodies of water and waterways in the area.”
“There are a lot of ponds and lakes around here and some of them have hundreds of acres around them,” Margaret said. She spoke more excitedly. “Vannie, there may be a quicker way to find Craig if Rochelle’s right.”
“What?”
“Through the cats.”
“The cats? What do you mean?”
“Well, a number of our cat alliance members, as you know, are feeding feral cats. One of them might be taking care of the cats Rochelle sees with Craig. Let’s get a phone chain going. Maybe we can find someone who’s caring for a colony in an area such as she described.”
“Great idea, Auntie,” Savannah said. “Email me the membership list and I’ll start making calls. Colbi might help and I’m sure we can get others from the cat alliance to help. Oh, we’ve just got to find him before he freezes out there. Rochelle said he’s immobilized. What if whoever has him isn’t keeping him warm and feeding him?” Suddenly, Savannah murmured, “Oh darn.”“What?” Margaret asked.
“Someone’s at the door. Why don’t you email me the list when you get it together? I’ll talk to you later.”
“Sure,” Margaret agreed.
“Yes?” Savannah said, upon opening the front door.
“Are you Savannah Ivey?” the young bespectacled man asked.
“Yes.”
“This is for you,” he said, handing her an envelope just before he trotted down the stairs toward his car.
Savannah turned the envelope over in her hands a few times. When she noticed it was from an attorney’s office, she muttered, “Yeah, sure, thanks a lot,” as she backed into the house and closed the door. She started to open the package, but quickly changed her mind. Rubbing her barely protruding belly, she said, “We have enough to worry us right now, don’t we, son?” And she tossed the envelope onto the buffet.
****
&nb
sp; “Hi, Iris,” Savannah said into the phone later that afternoon. “Any word?”
“No, nothing. Did you and Maggie have any luck finding that cat colony Rochelle told you about?”
“I’m afraid not. Evidently, that colony, if it is a colony, is not being managed. We checked with all the local shelters and individuals we know who are into cat rescue. Nothing. I’m in the process of calling pet stores and other veterinary clinics to see if I can get a clue about where these cats are. Michael will be home shortly; I’ll ask him what he knows.”
“He’s working today? It’s Saturday, isn’t it?”
“Yes, he usually works Saturday morning. They had a rabies clinic today, so he’ll get home a little later than usual.”
“Okay. Well, let’s hope we tap into something concrete, and soon. Savannah, thank you for calling Rochelle. I think her vision is probably correct. All we have to do is figure out where the hell it is.”
“Oh, Michael’s home. I’ll call you back, Iris.” Once she’d ended the call, she approached her husband. “Hi, hon,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him.
“Well, hi. What’s up? You seem a little more hopeful this afternoon.”
She gave his words some thought. “Yes and no.”
“Huh?” he asked, sitting down and taking off his shoes.
“Daddy shoe,” Lily said, reaching under a side table and pulling out one of his flip-flops. She handed it to him. “Daddy shoe.”
“Thank you, punkin,” he said, hugging the toddler.
“Well, I told you this morning what Rochelle saw in her vision and Iris said the authorities have been all over in areas that even remotely fit the description. We did a phone chain and contacted cat alliance members and shelters to ask about cat colonies near bodies of water. Nothing. So far, absolutely nothing. I called local pet stores and other veterinarians. I’m waiting for a few callbacks.”
“What are you looking for, exactly?” he asked.
“We’re trying to find a cat colony or even just a few cats—it may not be a colony at all. In fact, these may not be feral cats. But they presumably hang out near a body of water where reeds grow and that’s where Rochelle thinks Craig is. As I told you, she sees cats with him.”