by Lori Foster
“Cats don’t normally leave their babies,” Penny said gently. “Not even feral cats. And if we find Gumbo with Miranda, sometimes a feral cat can be tamed and become a lovely pet.”
“That’s true,” Peter said. “But I’m worried about Gumbo, as well as Miranda. The cat must have been frightened, or hurt, to leave her babies.”
“If I’d had any idea…” Mack said, shaking his head.
“Is there anything in the book bag that might give us a lead?” Penny asked.
“Let’s find out.” Mack dumped the contents on the ground. It was mostly cans of cat food, but there was also a small notebook.
“I hope Miranda will forgive me for reading this,” Mack said as he opened the notebook. “She writes down everything. She’s a big reader, and she reads a lot of books and watches a lot of shows about this girl spy, Harriet. And Nancy Drew. Along with being a veterinarian, she wants to be a private detective.”
The first page was dated a week earlier. “The two men in the green truck are back again. They put out another cage at the old blue house,” Miranda had written. “They caught a yellow cat, but I let it go.”
Penny watched as Mack’s face turned ashen. He flipped the page. “The green truck is driving all around here. Mrs. Wilson said her gray cat went missing. She hasn’t found him.”
Mack’s eyes were blank with fear. “Good Lord, Miranda’s been spying on these men.”
MACK FELT AS IF he were trapped in a nightmare.
“Call Mrs. Wilson,” Penny urged. “Call Information and get the number.”
“I don’t really know her. She lives a couple of doors down.” Mack talked as he got out his phone. He called Information, and in a few moments the operator had connected him. He counted the rings. On the ninth ring he heard an elderly voice say hello.
“Mrs. Wilson, I’m Miranda’s father—”
“Such a lovely girl. She was so concerned when I told her that Buster was missing. She helped me look for him. She is such a dear girl, Mr. Sanders. You’ve done a fine job of raising her, even without a wife.”
Mack fought to control his impatience. When he spoke again, his voice was calm. “Have you seen Miranda this afternoon?” He tilted the phone so that all of them could hear the response.
“No, not since this morning. She was looking for that calico cat she calls Gumbo. She said the cat had kittens. She was worried to death that the kittens would die if the mother cat didn’t come back.”
“Mrs. Wilson, did Buster ever come home?” Mack asked.
“No, he didn’t. I’ve hunted high and low. I even offered a reward. No one has seen him.”
“Did Miranda mention anything about two men in a green car?” Mack asked.
“Yes, she did. She seemed to think that maybe they’d trapped Buster and kidnapped him. She said she was going to find him and set him free. She said that was what Nancy Drew and Harriet would do.” She laughed softly. “Miranda has such a lively imagination. Why would anyone go to the trouble of stealing someone else’s cat? There are plenty of cats to be had at the animal shelter.”
“I don’t know,” Mack said, but when he saw Penny’s face, he realized that she had an answer to that question, and it wasn’t going to be one that he liked.
“When you talked with Miranda this morning, did she say where she thought the mother cat might be?”
“No, she didn’t. But she was bent on saving the kittens. She said once she tamed the kittens, the mother cat would calm down, too. She’s determined, that one is.”
“Thank you,” Mack said. “I have to go now.”
“Stop by for some coffee and pie sometime, Mr. Sanders. And if you ever need someone to look out for Miranda, just give me a call. She’s a darling child.”
“Thank you. If you see her, would you call me?”
“Absolutely.”
He turned off the phone. “Why would someone steal a pet cat?”
Penny grasped his forearm as her uncle answered.
“They steal the pets and sell them for animal experimentation,” Peter said. “A lot of pounds won’t allow the cats and dogs in their care to be used in that way. These brokers go through neighborhoods trapping pets and selling them.”
“I had no idea,” Mack said. He could hear the anger in Peter’s voice, and he saw the censure in Penny’s eyes. She gave his arm another squeeze and then let go.
“If that’s what’s going on, we need to catch these people,” Penny said. “And we need to get Miranda back. If she’s following men like that, she could be in more danger than we thought.”
“If my daughter is in danger, it’s my fault. I should have listened to her. I should have tried to help her instead of coming up with reasons not to.”
“You’re a parent, not a god,” Peter said. “We do the best we can, and you obviously love your daughter. Blame doesn’t help anyone.”
“Miranda tried to tell me something about this last week, but I didn’t have time to listen.” Mack’s voice was choked with fear and grief. “If I’d taken ten minutes, I could have helped her. If this is really going on, I want those guys as bad as you do. But first, I want my daughter home safe and sound.”
Penny nodded, then turned to her uncle. “What should we do?”
“Find Familiar. He was an animal research cat when Eleanor found him. He’d escaped from a lab, and he has a real aversion to folks who trap animals. Eleanor and I both were nearly killed in our efforts to protect him.”
Penny gave her uncle a long look. “I thought that was just a story you made up.”
Peter shook his head. “It’s true, and if anyone can help us, it’s Familiar. Let’s just hope that my hunch is correct, and he’s with Miranda.”
“Should we call the police?” Mack asked.
Peter shook his head. “First we should make certain that she’s not simply hiding from us. The police won’t do much of anything for twenty-four hours. If we find evidence that she’s in danger, I think you should contact the police. Men who sell animals to be used in such experiments are capable of almost anything.”
“Okay,” Mack said. He could feel the nervous energy shifting through his body. “Let’s get busy looking. We have to find Miranda. And Familiar. And Gumbo.” He nodded at Penny. “We have to find all the animals those men have, and save them.”
CHAPTER FOUR
I WASN’T UPSET until Miranda dropped that bag of cat food and crawled under an old house. I’m not the squeamish type, but there are spiders here. And rats. Yeah, I know cats are supposed to catch rats, but you haven’t seen the size of these babies. When they sit up, they’re as big as poodles. They have really sharp teeth and a bad attitude. And red eyes that glare like they’re possessed.
Uh-oh, Miranda’s down on all fours. She’s got that determined look on her face. And there she goes! I’d just as soon skip the haunted crawl space tour, but it’s my catly duty to follow this young humanoid and keep her safe. But why this house? Why this crawl space?
Ah, I see—and hear—the attraction for Miranda now. It’s a cage. And inside the cage is a charming black-and-white cat of juvenile years. He says his name is Bossy and he’s been in the cage for two days. Without any water. The men who set these traps are worse than I thought. But let’s hear what Bossy has to say. Maybe he can give us some clues.
Bossy is a free agent in this world, so no one has missed him or been looking for him. And he’s scared. He says that lots of cats have disappeared from the neighborhood recently. He says that about two weeks ago, these cages filled with food started showing up in out-of-the-way places. The cat goes in, the trap closes, and he’s there until someone comes to get the cage. And once a cat is caught, he isn’t ever heard from again. This sounds really bad. This is evil at work.
Miranda is working the catch on the cage. And yes, she sprang him! Bossy stayed around long enough to give her a rub and a purr, and now he’s on his way. And Miranda is destroying the spring on the cage so that it won’t work anymore. S
he is one smart little girl.
Now she’s crawling out the other side of the house and moving on. The problem is that she’s still going away from home. I’ve tried snagging her pant leg and pulling her back toward home, but she isn’t going to listen to me. It’s not that she doesn’t understand; she’s very perceptive for a humanoid. It’s that she simply ignores me. She has a mission, and she’s not going to back off.
I’m liking this situation less and less, though. I just saw two men sitting on a porch and watching her. She doesn’t realize that there are mean people around—people who will hurt her as quickly as they will a stray cat. Those men are looking at her and laughing. I don’t like that a bit. If I had my way, we’d go home and get Peter and Penny.
Sure, it’s a good thing we’re doing, freeing cats in cages, but I think we need some reinforcements. Besides, it’s time to eat. Miranda doesn’t show any sign of fatigue or hunger, but by my schedule, I’m two hours overdue for some grub.
Okay, here’s another cage. This one has a…Chihuahua! And she’s one pissed-off little canine. I normally don’t condescend to talk to dogs, but this one is chattering away, and oh, the language! I’m just glad Miranda can’t understand what’s being said.
Her name is Bitsy, and she’s telling me that cats and dogs are disappearing. She was looking for her friend, Prissy, who disappeared yesterday. Prissy went out to relieve herself and she never came home. Bitsy is terribly upset that she can’t find a trace of her friend.
This doesn’t sound good at all. It sounds like someone is kidnapping dogs and cats, and the only reason for that would be to sell them to people who want to cut them up or torture them. I know firsthand how horrible the life of a lab animal is. I spent nearly a year as a lab cat. I never got outside my cage except when they caught me to inject some horrible drug into me. No one even bothered to give me a name. The pain was bad, but the loneliness was even worse. If that’s what’s going on here—and Bitsy believes so—then I’m going to put a stop to it.
There Bitsy goes, her little tail straight out behind her. At least she knows her way home, and I’ll bet she never walks into a cage again.
Another good deed, and another cage destroyed.
What’s that I hear? Some sort of commotion. Let me take a peek around the corner of this house. Hmm. It’s two men in a green pickup, and they’re highly agitated. They look lean, mean and upset. They’ve got the cat cage Miranda just destroyed. One man is shaking it and yelling. The other is looking around. Miranda and I need to kick up some heel dust.
The men have put the cage in the back of the pickup. Now they’ve crossed the street to talk to those two older men on the porch. And now they’re looking at us.
Oh, no. I think it’s time to go—and no fooling around. Those men are pissed off big-time and they’re headed our way.
“Run, little humanoid!”
PENNY PAUSED at the porch where two older men sat in plastic chairs that moaned under their weight. One had white hair and the other had an earring in his right ear. “Have you seen a young girl, about nine years old, brown hair in braids?”
The men looked at each other and then down the street. Neither of them answered.
“Her father is looking for her.” Penny pointed across the street toward where Mack was looking under a house.
When the men still didn’t answer, Penny stepped closer. Something about their silence made her feel uncomfortable. “Have you seen a little girl?” she asked again, and this time with an edge to her voice. One man looked away, but the other simply stared into her face.
“It’s a simple question, yes or no,” she said, feeling her anger begin to mount.
“What if we did?” the one with white hair asked.
“Then you’d better tell me,” she said.
“Or what?” the other man asked, sneering.
“Mr. Sanders!” she called. “Could you come here a moment?” If the men wouldn’t talk to her, maybe they’d talk to Mack. He was at least a hundred pounds bigger and, when it came to his daughter, very convincing.
Mack trotted across the street and came to stand beside her.
“These men may have seen Miranda,” said Penny. “Unfortunately they don’t want to tell me anything.”
Mack put one foot on the step. “My little girl is missing,” he said softly. “If you’ve seen her, please tell me.”
“What’s it worth to you?” the man with the earring asked.
Penny saw the flush of anger touch Mack’s face. Instead of snatching the man out of his chair, though, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill.
“It’s worth this.” He handed it to the man.
“I saw a little girl. She and a black cat were under that house over there.” He pointed across the street. “They left.”
“How long ago?” Mack asked.
“Maybe half an hour.”
“Which way did she go?” Penny asked.
“She ran toward that old junkyard,” the man said, a cruel smile playing across his lips. “She was runnin’ fast, too.”
Mack turned, ready to go. Penny put a hand on his arm and detained him. “Why was she running?” she asked.
“’Cause those two men who were after her were mad,” the man said, laughing out loud. “She was giving it all she had, but I don’t think she got away from them.”
Penny’s hold tightened on Mack’s arm and held him in the yard. He was about to climb up on the porch and do some damage. “Why were the men after her?”
“I reckon because she was tearing up their traps.”
“What kind of traps?”
“Animal traps. They’ve been catching cats and little dogs for a couple of weeks. Catching ’em and hauling ’em off. There’re enough stray cats and dogs around here, we won’t miss a few.”
“Did the men hurt her?” Penny asked.
Both men shrugged. “She tore up their stuff. They were mighty upset about what she’d done. They said they were going to get her.”
Mack stared at the men. “I’m going to find my daughter, and after I do, I’m coming back here,” he said. “If you’re sitting out here on the porch watching the events of the day unfold, I may feel the need to include you in a few of them.”
He turned abruptly and started jogging toward the old junkyard the men had pointed out.
Penny glanced again at the men and was glad to see the smirks had fled their faces. She hurried after Mack.
RESTRAINT HAD ALWAYS BEEN a byword of his life, but Mack felt his ability to control his anger slipping. He focused on the rusted metal fence that enclosed the junkyard.
“Miranda!” he called.
Only silence answered him. He saw Peter about a hundred yards down the block, looking in an old freezer. Behind him, Penny was catching up.
“Mack, she’s okay,” Penny said. “They saw her not half an hour ago. Surely she couldn’t have gotten too far away in that time. Those men were probably mad, but they wouldn’t hurt a child over a trap that can be replaced.”
“We don’t have a clue what really happened,” he said bitterly. He knew she was trying to comfort him by putting on the best face possible. She was the kind of woman who wouldn’t add to a father’s torment. No, she was kind. But Miranda was still in danger. “Those two men just sat there and watched my daughter run while two men chased her. How could they do that?”
“I don’t know.” Penny followed him through a rusted-out hole in the fence.
“I think it’s time to call the police,” Mack said. Dusk was falling, and in front of Mack was an ocean of wrecked and abandoned cars. “She could be anywhere in here.” Dread slipped over him. “They could have hurt her. She may be lying here…unconscious.”
Mack turned at the sound of a cat meowing, his gaze going over an old BMW that sat on rusted axles.
“Familiar!” Penny darted in front of him and scooped up the black cat out of an old tire. She held him a moment, then held her hand out in front of
her, disbelief showing on her face. Her hand was covered in blood. “Familiar’s bleeding!” she said. “Will you find Peter while I check him out?”
“Sure,” Mack said, heading back to the hole in the fence and taking out his cell phone. “And I’m going to call the police. Maybe Miranda is nearby, but we’re not going to have enough daylight to hunt on our own. After what those two men said, I think we have enough evidence to prove she may be in danger.”
PENNY FOUND THE WOUND on Familiar’s side and quickly began to stanch the flow of blood. It looked like the cat had been shot. While her hands were busy with Familiar, her mind was going back over the conversation with the two men on the porch. Neither of the men had said anything about a gunshot. Then again, they hadn’t been very forthcoming with any information.
She saw her uncle duck through the hole in the fence. “I think he’s okay,” she called to her uncle. “He’s been shot. Small-caliber.”
Peter hurried over and knelt beside her. As his hands moved over Familiar’s sleek black hide, Penny filled him in on what she’d learned.
“Let me take Familiar to the clinic,” Peter said. “It looks superficial. I think the bullet grazed his side, but I want to make certain. You stay and help Mack look for Miranda. Mack called the police and they’re on the way. This is looking serious—but I don’t have to tell you that.”
Peter scooped the cat into his arms. As he stood, sirens sounded in the distance. “I’m really afraid something terrible has happened to his daughter.”
“I can’t believe this is happening. Surely Miranda is okay. I keep thinking we should have detained her at the clinic.”
“How could we have known?” Peter said. “Look, do what you can. I’ll be back as soon as I check Familiar out.”
“Do you need my help?” Penny asked.
Peter shook his head. “Familiar’s going to be fine. You stay with Mack. I think he’s going to need someone he can lean on.”