by Patricia Fry
Now Michael is laughing. "It spilled on Rags?"
"Yes! It was a big vase full of water and…" she started laughing uncontrollably again. "…he was soaked," she said, trying to catch her breath. "So the rat disappears under the teacher's desk, but he comes out on the other side and two of the boys are able to corner it and put it away. The girls come down off their desks and now everyone is wondering where the cat is."
"Where was he," Michael asked, still laughing, "licking his wounds?"
"Pretty much. When I pulled him out from under the teacher's desk, he looked like a drenched rat. There was water running off his forehead, his ears were kind of sideways, and the kids were all laughing at him. He slinked over to the carrier, went inside, and spent the next half hour licking himself dry."
"Oh, poor Rags," Michael said. "How humiliating for him. So what happened to the note?" he asked.
"Well, Jessica, I think, would have liked to crawl into the carrier with Rags, she was so embarrassed. The note she passed was about Reggie. She was mortified when Rags took it to him, of all people."
"Did he read it? What did it say?"
"Yeah, during Rags's little melee, the teacher became distracted and she rushed over to clean up the flower spill. When things settled down, the boy sitting next to Reggie urged him to read the note. He didn't reveal the contents, but it was obvious what was in it. He blushed and Jessica made a quick exit from the room." Savannah settled down in her seat and said, "I don't think Jessica will be passing notes in class again anytime soon."
"No, I would imagine not," Michael said. "So Rags didn't make a very good impression as a reading therapy cat, did he?"
"Actually, he couldn't have been better. In a little while, after Reggie's blush had faded, Jessica had returned to her desk, and Rags had cleaned himself up, our cat performed quite well. He didn't go near that rat cage again, I'll tell you that."
"We're here. Hon, you must be famished after the day you had."
"Yeah, and tired," she said as she climbed out of the car.
When the couple entered the diner, Michael carrying Lily in her infant seat, Iris greeted them. "Hi," she said, gravitating toward Lily. "How's my sweet girl?" she cooed. Lily smiled up at her.
"So what brings you out?" she asked.
"Hunger," Michael said with a grin. He spotted a booth across the room and said, "Okay if we sit over there?"
"Sure," Iris said. "Wherever you want."
Michael slid the baby seat into the booth against the wall and started to scoot in next to her.
"Wait, I want to sit with her," Savannah said.
"You rode next to her in the car and I haven't seen her all day," he protested.
"I was gone from her today, too," she said.
"You two are hilarious," Iris said, laughing. "Most parents argue over who has to get up with the baby."
"They do?" Michael asked.
"Yes, they do," she said in all seriousness. She pointed at Michael. "Now why don't you sit next to her while eating your dinner and switch with Savannah during dessert."
The couple stared at her for a minute and then looked at each other, nodded, and slid into their seats.
"That's better," Iris said with a chuckle. "We don't want any domestic disturbances here. Now, what can I get you to drink?"
"Herbal iced tea," Savannah said.
Michael nodded. "Same for me."
"Well, look who's here," Iris said, just before walking away.
Michael twisted around in his seat. "Hi Craig," he said, reaching out to shake the detective's hand. "How're things?"
"Good. Just out for a bite to eat before I call it a night." He winked at Savannah and said to Michael, "Couldn't you get her to cook one of her delicious meals for you tonight?"
"Oh we've both been on the run all day. Decided to let someone serve us this evening." He motioned to Craig, "Hey, why don't you join us; we haven't ordered yet."
Craig glanced at Savannah again. "Sure, if you don't mind."
"We'd love to have you," she said as she scooted over to make room for him. "So how's the investigation going?" she asked.
"Slow. But that's not unusual for a case like this." He turned toward Savannah and said, "Thanks for letting me know about that scarf, by the way. I think it's a strong clue."
"Well, yeah, unless…"
"Unless what?" he asked.
Savannah responded, "Unless Rags found it somewhere else in the house and took it into that room later. There's really no way of knowing how Cheryl's scarf ended up in Julie's room."
"Yeah, I know. But there's other evidence pointing to Cheryl, as well."
Michael and Savannah waited to hear more.
"As you know, the two women didn't get along; and Cheryl has a history."
"Yeah, we know about the fighting. But a history?" Michael asked. "What kind of history?"
"She's been arrested for violent acts before. She's a strong suspect."
"She's quite a bit smaller than Julie was. Do you think she could toss her out the window?" Savannah asked.
"She's into bodybuilding," Craig said.
"Hi babe," Iris said when she approached the booth with two iced teas and a coffee. She looked around and then bent over and kissed Craig.
"Hi yourself," he said. "What's for dinner?"
"Anything you want," she said with a smile. "The special is fajitas. I've heard people say it's pretty good tonight."
"That's what I'll have," Michael said.
"Sounds good," Savannah agreed.
"Yup, me too," Craig said.
Iris nodded. "You make my job so easy. Three fajitas it is."
"So Craig, you say she lifts weights?" Michael said. "I didn't notice she had that kind of muscle tone."
Savannah smirked across the table at her husband. "Yeah, that's because the cleavage caught your eye."
Michael squirmed a little in his seat. "Now, that's not…"
Craig winked. "Come on Michael, she's got you there. How could you notice anything but?"
"Plus, she wore a jacket most of the time," Savannah said. "A jacket that didn't cover her plunging neckline." She turned toward Craig. "So are you going to arrest her?"
"We're hoping to have enough evidence soon. We still have to get DNA from Cheryl and the men in the crew." He looked across at Lily. "Enough about me. How are you two and that cute baby?"
"Good," Michael said.
"I talked to Damon earlier and he told me that you might be doing some construction at the library."
Michael leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. "Yeah. They have a strange situation there. Damon and I drilled a hole in the wall at the bottom of the steps and found a room, just like Maggie remembers as a kid."
"Really? I wonder why they walled it in like that."
"I don't know. But the weirdest thing is—and Savannah, I haven't had a chance to tell you about this yet—there appears to be something plugged in and running down there."
"What?" Craig asked.
"We don't know, but we can see a small light. Something down there is still using electricity."
"How long has the room been boarded up like that?" Craig asked.
"Near as we can figure, about four years. Glenda Cathcart is thrilled at the possibility of opening it up so they can actually use it."
"She didn't know about the room?" Craig asked.
Michael shook his head and squinted. "Well, I guess she knew it was there, but had kind of forgotten about it. She's as eager to learn what mysteries lie beyond that wall as Damon and I are."
Just then Savannah felt her phone vibrate. She looked down at it for a moment, and decided to let the call go to voicemail. She then checked her voicemail messages and was stunned to hear, "Hi Savannah, this is Lance. Just calling to see how you're doing after the shoot. I'll be in town for a few days. Would love to have coffee with you. Call me."
Just as Savannah dropped the phone into her purse, Iris arrived with their order. The two men,
who had been deep in conversation, pulled back so she could serve the food and everyone began to eat.
That's odd, Savannah thought. Why would Lance call me like that? I thought Michael and I made it perfectly clear that I'm not available or interested in anything he has to offer. Well, maybe he'll get the message when he doesn't get a call back from me. At least I hope so, she thought as she took a bite of her fajita.
Chapter 6
"Hi Auntie," Savannah said when she greeted Margaret at the front door the next morning. "How are you?"
"Great. It's a beautiful morning. I walked over here, you know," she said with pride. She pinched herself around the waist. "I'm determined to get rid of some of this flab."
"Oh, you look good," Savannah said as she closed the door behind her aunt.
"Yeah, not next to you, I don't."
Savannah scowled. "Are we having a competition?"
Margaret looked her niece up and down, sighed, and said, "That train left the station a long time ago. I never did and never will have your height and svelte figure."
"And I'll never have your beautiful skin," Savannah said. "You don't even wrinkle, do you?" she asked, examining her aunt's face more closely.
Margaret brought her hands up to her face and gently patted her cheeks. "Yeah, I guess I do have something going for me."
"Oh Auntie, you're a riot. So do you want a cup of coffee and some low-fat blueberry cobbler?" she asked enticingly.
"Yeowza," Margaret said enthusiastically. She looked around. "Where's the princess?"
"In the kitchen waiting for us," Savannah said, looping her arm through her aunt's. "Let's not keep her waiting."
"Certainly not," Margaret said as the two of them walked toward the kitchen.
"Hi Buffy," Margaret said, bending down to pet the little cat. "Are you keeping Lily company?"
Savannah smiled down at the cat. "She thinks Lily is her very own baby."
"What about the bad boy? Does he show much interest in her?"
"Not too much," Savannah said, pensively. "But he sure likes her toys! Yesterday morning, I was rushing around getting things done and I heard Lily fuss. I looked over at her and Rags had her toy kitty in his mouth. He was tugging at it trying to get it out of her hand."
"How funny," Margaret said. "So who won the tug-of-war?" she asked with a chuckle.
"Lily. She has quite a grip. She would not let go. I'm always finding her toys in his stash, though. He's incorrigible." She looked over at her aunt. "You can sit next to Lily, if you want. I'll let you dish up your cobbler."
Savannah sat down and had just taken a sip of coffee when the doorbell rang. "Who's that?" she asked frowning. She glanced up at the kitchen clock. "Kind of early for an unexpected guest."
"Probably the religious people," Margaret said.
"Religious people?" Savannah asked, looking confused.
"You know, they come around and talk religion to you."
"Oh," Savannah said as she headed for the front door. When she opened it, she stood stunned. "Uh, what are you doing here?" she asked.
"Was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by," the visitor said with a smile. "Can you spare a cup of coffee for a friend on a chilly morning?"
Savannah thought about the request, sighed, and opened the door. "Sure, come in," she said.
"Auntie, you remember Lance Grayson," Savannah said when the two of them entered the kitchen.
"Uh, yes. Hello," Margaret said, shooting a questioning glance at her niece.
Lance's demeanor abruptly changed. "Oh, Maggie. Didn't know you were here," he said.
"Why wouldn't I be?" she challenged. "Vannie is my niece." She looked him in the eyes and asked, "What brings you here? I thought you lived up near Frisco."
"I do. But I'm here on business for a few days. Uh…Rob asked me to check in on Savannah to make sure everything's okay after the shoot." He looked squarely at Margaret. "Is that okay with you, Maggie?"
"Sit down, Lance," Savannah invited. "How do you take your coffee?"
"Black is fine," he said, choosing a chair across from Savannah. He looked at her. "So is everything okay after the shoot? There's no damage or anything, is there?"
Savannah shook her head. "I don't think so. It's nice of you to check on us. Tell Rob I appreciate it."
"Sure will."
"When will the documentary air?" Margaret asked.
"And where?" Savannah added.
"I think Rob has to find a sponsor for it. It may be picked up by the animal channel. We might put some of it on YouTube."
"Your cat's going viral, Vannie," Margaret said.
Lance smiled at Savannah. "Vannie. Is that what friends call you?" he asked. "I like it."
"No!" Margaret said. "Just family. I call her that and so does her mother and sister. Otherwise, she's Savannah," she said sternly. She then softened a little and asked, "Can we get a copy?"
"Of what?" Lance asked.
"The documentary," she spouted. "Where's your mind today, Lance?" she asked in a rather accusatory manner.
"Help yourself to the cobbler, Lance," Savannah offered, placing a plate and fork in front of him.
"It's really good," Margaret said, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin. "I'll bet Michael loves it when you cook like this."
Savannah shot her aunt a look. Why is she acting that way? she wondered.
"So Vannie, I hear that Michael might tear that wall out at the library," Margaret said.
"Gosh, gossip travels fast in this town," Savannah said. "Who told you that?"
"Does it matter? Is it true? Is he contracting out now as a demolitioner?"
Savannah looked puzzled. "Was it Iris?" she asked.
Margaret shook her head.
"Craig?"
Margaret grinned. "No."
"Damon?"
"No."
"Glenda Cathcart?"
"Noooo."
"Auntie, who? I'm curious."
"Your husband. He stopped by with some medicine we needed for one of the new rescues. Sounds like he's kind of looking forward to doing that project."
"Oh yes, he does enjoy tearing things down and rebuilding. But he doesn't know if he'll be asked to do the job or not. Glenda has to take it before the board. They may want a bonded, bona fide contractor."
Savannah looked down at Lily, smiled, and then glanced toward Lance. "Are you all right?" she asked when she noticed him sitting there, staring down at the cobbler. "You don't have to eat it if you don't like it."
Lance took a breath and relaxed his posture a bit. He gave Savannah a strained smile and said, "No, it's good." He leaned back from the table and said, "I guess I'm just not very hungry." He took a sip of his coffee, set the mug down, and said, his voice cracking, "So your husband's a…" He cleared his throat and started again. "He's a builder? I thought he was a veterinarian."
"That, too," Savannah said grinning. "I call him a weekend renovation warrior."
"Interesting. Ah…when do you think he'll be doing the work at the library?" he asked, his eyes darting from Savannah to Margaret.
Savannah creased her brow. "I don't know. There's no formal work order, yet. Why?"
"Yeah, why?" Margaret said. "Do you want to film the action?"
"Uh, no. Just making small talk." Lance looked at his watch, stood, and said, "Well, I should go. I have a lot to do."
"Well, thanks for coming by to check for damage," Savannah said.
"Huh?" Lance said. "Oh yeah…I'm glad everything's okay."
When Savannah returned after seeing Lance out, she said, "What was that all about?"
"I know exactly what it was about," Margaret said in an angry tone. "He's on the prowl."
"On the prowl?" Savannah questioned.
"Yeah," Margaret said. "For you."
"What?" Savannah shouted.
"You're his next mark—he wants to…"
"He wants to what?" Savannah insisted.
"Well, he wants to conquer you." Margaret s
aid.
"Conquer?"
"Savannah, he's coming on to you. Did he ask if he could see you again…without Michael?"
She thought for a moment and then said, "Well, he did suggest we go somewhere for coffee. He said he doesn't know anyone in town anymore and he'd like to see a friendly face once in a while." She put her face in her hands. "Oh, Auntie, do you really think he wants something more than a friendly face?"
"Yes. I'm absolutely sure of it. He's a player and he wants what he wants. I guess he can usually get it, too. He will push and push."
"What shall I do?" Savannah pleaded.
"Make it perfectly—even rudely—clear that you do not want to have coffee with him or spend any time with him without your husband present. He won't take no for an answer. You will have to be rude. Keep your doors locked. Be wary anytime you go out alone."
"Do you think he would…stalk me?"
"I know he would."
"How do you know so much about him?" Savannah asked, point-blank. "You said you dated and it didn't end well. Did he stalk you?"
Margaret sat silent for a moment and then took Savannah's hand. "Vannie, I went out with him a couple of times. We had fun. But I could tell he wasn't that into me. He flirted with every skirt in the room."
"While you were on a date with him?"
"Yes. Well, I met someone at a dance—someone I really liked. I ended it with Lance. When he found out I was dating someone else, he started coming around again. He was relentless. Vannie, you know how upfront and straightforward I can be."
She nodded.
"Well, I was downright rude and he still wouldn't leave me alone. He called. He came to the house whenever Jake would leave. He followed me around. He showed up everywhere I went. It was awful. I finally had to get a restraining order against him. He was not happy—began to threaten me." She thought about it for a minute. "He wants what he can't have and he wants it with a vengeance." She looked her niece in the eye. "Vannie, be careful. Be very careful."
"Do you think he's dangerous?"
"I don't know. I just don't know what he's capable of. But I can tell you it is no fun being stalked—feeling as though you've been violated." She shuddered. "It's an awful way to live."