by Patricia Fry
“Oh, Michael, he’s okay. He hasn’t caused any problems for several weeks now. I’d really like to take him. Besides, he and Dolly are such good buddies.”
“Of course, he’s your cat and you can do what you want, but Savannah…”
“I’ve already thought it through. It’s a done deal. Rags will be the only guy on our girls’ weekend in the mountains. He’ll have a blast. Iris said it’s secure—no escape routes or anything. What could possibly go wrong?”
Chapter 2
“This is going to be so much fun,” Iris said as she loaded her things into Savannah’s SUV the following Friday afternoon.
Margaret huffed. “You sure travel heavy, birthday girl. What is all this stuff, anyway?”
“My clothes…” she started.
Colbi chirped, “Of course, Ms. Fashionista!”
Iris smirked playfully at her. “…and groceries.”
“What’s in the pan?” Savannah asked.
“Enchiladas, for our supper. Maggie, did you bring the wine?”
“Sure did—two bottles.”
“Only two?” Colbi asked.
“Not to worry,” Iris said, “there’s a little store where we can pick up more wine and anything else we might need.” She thought for a moment, then added, “Well, it’s not actually that well stocked—it’s small—but we should be able to find whatever we need.”
“Matches,” Savannah said. “Do we have matches?”
Iris nodded. “At the cabin, along with some staples—canned goods and things. I just brought what we need for dinner tonight and tomorrow and breakfast in the morning. We can go across the lake for lunch and a shopping spree if we want to.”
“Across the lake?” Colbi asked. “In what?”
“A boat, of course,” Iris said, slipping into the backseat with her and the two cats. She shook her head. “This is a first for me…camping with cats.”
“We’re not camping,” Savannah reminded her as she pulled away from the curb.
Iris smiled. “Well, it’s pretty remote and primitive—but yes, we do have a roof over our head and some conveniences.”
“You have a bathroom, don’t you?” Margaret asked, feigning panic.
“Sure—running water, shower...but Craig’s family built the cabin in order to get away from it all and it is remote. There’s one road in and out and the best way to get to any sort of civilization within minutes rather than an hour or so is to motor across the lake,” Iris explained.
“Well, as long as there’s a shower,” Margaret said. She then asked, her eyes wide, “…and hot water?”
Iris nodded. “Oh yes, there’s a water heater. Craig gave me instructions for turning it on.” She picked up her purse and began poring through it. “What did I do with that, anyway?” As she continued to dig, she said, “Darn, I hope I didn’t leave it on the kitchen table.”
“Should we go back and make sure before we get on the highway?” Savannah asked.
“Um…oh, I don’t think so. I can remember what he said…I think.”
****
The four women continued chattering as they drove out of town and toward the mountains. In the meantime, after exploring the cargo and sniffing each passenger, the cats had settled down—Dolly curled up between Colbi and Iris, and Rags perched on top of one of the suitcases behind them.
“Are they resting up for a wild night of adventure?” Margaret asked, peering into the backseat.
Savannah tilted her head, her blond highlighted hair brushing across one shoulder. “What adventure?”
“Oh, you know—tearing around the cabin, getting into things, being unruly and rowdy.”
“Let’s hope not,” Colbi said, running her hand over Dolly’s lush tabby fur.
They’d been on the road for nearly two hours by then and Iris noted, “It’s getting dark. Sure wish we’d gotten an earlier start.”
“Sorry about that,” Colbi apologized. “I had a whole lot of obstacles to that story I was covering and absolutely had to finish it before I could, in good conscience, leave.” She faced Iris. “If I’d missed that deadline, I’d probably be out of a job.”
“It was a big story?” Savannah asked.
“Yes, pretty big, as far as Hammond news goes.”
Margaret laughed. “Big news in Hammond is ‘goat seen running loose in the supermarket’ or ‘tree falls; power’s out…’”
Iris chimed in, “Yeah, or ‘Mr. Harmonson’s chickens quit laying.’”
Savannah chuckled. “I read a good one in your paper a few weeks ago. ‘Orchard thief ring turns out to be two eight-year-olds who like apple pie.’” She glanced at Colbi in the rearview mirror. “So what’s your big story of the week?”
Colbi answered solemnly, “A missing woman.”
“Who?” Margaret asked. “Anyone we know?”
“I doubt it. She lives outside Frisco, but authorities have reason to believe she was brought to Hammond, or maybe she traveled there of her own free will.” She paused. “It’s a convoluted case. She’s a real estate agent in the ’burbs down in the big city with a clean lifestyle, according to those who know her. She disappeared without a trace in the middle of the day, leaving worried parents and a fiancé. She hasn’t been heard from in nearly a week.”
“Did they check her cell phone?” Margaret asked.
“Huh?”
“They always check the cell phones on those TV police programs. Cell phone records give a lot of clues about a person.”
“Why haven’t I seen anything in the papers about it?” Savannah asked.
“It’ll be in the morning paper,” Colbi said. “Front page.”
“What makes them think she’s in Hammond?” Iris asked.
Margaret turned in her seat. “Doesn’t your husband tell you anything? He must be involved in the case, isn’t he?”
“Nooo,” Iris insisted. “He can’t talk to me about his cases until they’re solved. Then he’d rather not hash them over again. So I’m pretty much out of the loop where his work’s concerned.”
“Bummer,” Margaret said. “What’s the sense in marrying a detective if you don’t get to hear the juicy stuff? I’d be waiting at the front door for the daily nitty-gritty report and I wouldn’t serve dinner until I got it.”
“Well Maggie, that’s why you’re married to a chef instead of a detective,” Iris said. “You’re too nosey.”
“Poor Max,” Savannah said.
“Why?” Margaret asked defensively.
“I can just imagine you grilling him each time he cooks for you, demanding to know what’s in it, the measurements, how long he cooked it…”
Iris jumped in. “Yeah, where he bought the ingredients, what’s the expiration date, did it come in a bottle, can, or…?”
“Oh stop,” Margaret said good-naturedly. “You exaggerate.” She grinned at Savannah. “But I do like to know what I’m eating.” Looking back at the others, she added, “And I like to know what’s going on in my community. Is that a crime?”
Suddenly, Iris leaned forward. “Turn here, Savannah. Now this is where it starts getting gnarly. I had hoped we could pass through this part in the daylight.”
“What?” Savannah said. “I thought that last stretch was rough. You mean it gets worse?”
“’Fraid so.”
Colbi grimaced in Iris’s direction. “I’m really sorry about making us late.”
Iris patted the younger woman’s hand. “That’s okay, soon-to-be-daughter.” She smiled. “I still love you. We’ll make it. We just need to take it slow around the hairpin curves.”
“You mean daughter-in-law-to-be,” Margaret corrected.
“Well, yeah. But I think of Colbi as the daughter I always wanted.”
“That’s sweet, Mommy,” Colbi quipped.
“Holy cow!” Margaret shouted after they’d driven along the narrow mountain road for about twenty minutes. “What in the hell was
that?”
“I don’t know,” Savannah said, her voice strained. “Sounded like we bottomed out. Did we run over a rock or something?”
“I didn’t see anything.” Margaret glanced at the others. “Did you see anything from back there?”
Iris shook her head. “No. Why are we stopped?”
Colbi pulled herself forward. “Are we stuck?”
“Give me the flashlight,” Savannah said, holding her hand out toward Margaret. “It’s under your seat. I’ll go take a look.” She let out a long breath. “I’m just sure I ran over a rock in the middle of this darned dirt road.” She flashed a look at Iris. “Is this the only way in?”
“Yes,” Iris said. “I told you it’s remote. Now, Savannah, be careful out there. Remember, there’s a sheer drop-off to the right and barely room for a car to pass on the left.”
Savannah cringed. “Well, this is kind of creepy.”
“What?”
“Here we are miles from nowhere and no one even knows we’re coming—no one’s expecting us.”
Iris perked up. “Yes, someone does know we’re coming. Craig got in touch with Skip and asked him to watch for us.”
“Who’s Skip?”
“The boat-tender guy. You’ll meet him. He’s just about the closest thing we have to a neighbor. His little boat operation isn’t too far from the cabin.”
“Well, that certainly makes a difference,” Margaret huffed. “The only person in the whole world who’ll know we’re missing is a guy named Skip.”
“Let’s hope Skip doesn’t get a memo like that,” Savannah said, stepping into the darkness and moving carefully toward the front of the car.
“What do you see?” Margaret called out after cracking her window a few inches.
When there was no answer, she crawled awkwardly across the console to the driver’s seat.
“I think we should stay in the car, Maggie,” Iris cautioned.
However, Margaret had already exited the car and closed the door. “Where are you, Vannie?”
“Here,” she said, from in front of the car.
“What do you see?”
“Well, I’m not sure. I think it’s a log or big branch or something and it’s wedged under the car kind of tight. I might be able to drive in reverse and dislodge it. What do you think?” she asked, aiming the light at the object.
“You want me to get down on the ground like some young mechanic?” Margaret asked in her usual crusty manner.
“Yes. I need your opinion. Come on,” she said rather impatiently.
Before Margaret could kneel, the women became aware of a much brighter light source. Savannah stood to get a better view. “It’s a car coming down the hill. Oh good. Let’s flag him down.”
“It’s kind of obvious that we need help, don’t you think?” Margaret then grabbed her niece’s arm and squealed, “What if he’s…”
“What?” Savannah asked.
“You know, a masher or a rapist,” Margaret said, pulling her jacket tightly around herself with one hand.
“Aren’t a masher and a rapist the same thing?” Savannah asked. She shook her head. “Well, let’s hope he’s not.” As the two women watched the car in the distance, Savannah said, “Now that’s strange. He’s stopping up the road there. What’s he doing? He’s turned off his headlights.”
Margaret chuckled a little under her breath. “Maybe he’s afraid we’re mashers.” After a few moments, she said, “Oh, here he comes. What should we do, Vannie?”
But before the two women could decide, the motorist rolled to a stop next to where they stood. “Hi there,” came a male voice, “do you need help?”
Savannah tried to get a good look at the car’s occupant. “Hello,” she said. “I…I think we may have run over a fallen branch or log. We’re stuck.” She raised her flashlight in order to illuminate the driver. When she caught a glimpse of him, she relaxed a little. Oh, good. He looks normal. Let’s hope he knows something about cars. To him, she said, “I’m thinking about backing up, then we might be able to pull it out from under the car without doing any damage. But I’m not sure that’s a good move. Do you happen to know anything about the undercarriage of a car?”
After quickly scanning the area and running his eyes over Savannah and Margaret, the stranger asked, “What are you doing up here all alone, anyway?”
“We’re not alone,” Margaret said, emphatically.
At that, he strained to see inside their car. After a few moments, he scowled. “What’s that?”
When Margaret followed his gaze and saw Rags at the side window, she chuckled. “A cat. We brought him for protection.”
The man hesitated before suggesting, “Well, let me take a look.” Turning on his hazard lights, he backed up the hill a short distance and parked his car so it faced Savannah’s. She watched him exit through the passenger door. He’s probably five or six years older than I am, she thought. “…around forty, I’d guess, and several inches shorter…maybe five six. She also noticed he was stocky and had a receding hairline. His attire seemed typical for the climate and the area; jeans, a wool-lined hooded sweatshirt, and cowboy boots.
“I’m Ernie,” he said, pausing to let the women respond.
“Uh…Savannah. This is my aunt Margaret.”
“Maggie,” she said, nodding.
He stared at them for a moment, before saying, “Well, let me take a look. Want to hold the light for me?” First, he kneeled in front of the car and peered underneath. He then moved to the side and reached under the car. “Yup, it’s a tree branch and it’s wedged in pretty tight.” He stood and dusted off his jeans. “It doesn’t look like there’s any damage, but, you’re right; you probably want to back off it to keep from causing any. Would you like me to do it for you?”
Savannah thought for a moment, then said, “No, I can do it. But thank you for stopping and for the advice.”
“Sure.”
“What’s going on?” Colbi asked, lowering her window a few inches.
“Well, hello,” Ernie said, walking toward her. He bent over, attempting to get a better look at the women in the backseat. “All ladies?” he asked. “What’re you doing out here, anyway?” When he saw the large grey-and-white cat stretch up to look out through the open window, he jumped back a little, adding, “…with a cat?” He took another step back. “…with two cats,” he muttered when he saw Dolly put her paws against the glass. “Are they mean? Most cats I’ve seen are mean.”
“No, they’re friendly,” Savannah said as she started to slide into the front seat. She stopped, stepped back, and motioned to her aunt. “Better get in.”
Hesitating, Margaret said, “I think I’ll take my chances out here.”
“What?” Savannah asked. “Why?”
“What if you skid out of control and roll down the mountain?” Just then Margaret stiffened. She rushed past Savannah and scrambled into the car, clumsily climbing over the console to the passenger seat. “Holy cow,” she said, ducking out of sight. “There’s something out there.”
“What?” Savannah asked, jumping quickly into the driver’s seat and slamming the door.
“I don’t know, but it’s big…I can tell you that!”
“Did you see something?” Colbi asked, looking from window to window, her light-brown ponytail swishing from side to side.
“No,” Margaret said, “I heard it. I think it’s a bear crashing through the brush and growling—no, it’s snarling. Lock the doors!” she demanded. “Put that window up!”
“A bear?” Ernie said, turning and rushing toward his own car.
Savannah lowered her window and called after him, “Hey, who’s going to pull that thing out?”
Without another word, the Good Samaritan jumped into his car, turned it around, and headed back up the mountain road.
“Oh no,” Savannah said, sighing deeply. After raising her window to close it, she rested her head on the steering wheel. Then, li
fting her head, she flipped her hair behind her ears, stared at her aunt through green eyes, and said, “Well, we’ve got to get that thing out from under the car, unless you want to spend the night here.” When no one spoke, she said, “Okay Auntie, you back the car down the hill a tad and I’ll pull the log out.” Before she could get out of the car, however, something caught her eye. “Well, that’s strange.”
“What?” Margaret asked, glancing around.
“Ernie stopped his car up the road there. I wonder what he’s doing.” More quietly, she asked, “Do you suppose he ran into that bear?”
Margaret blew a puff of air through her lips as if trying to drum up a heap of courage. Finally she said, “Okay, get out of the car and I’ll scoot over.” When Savannah hesitated, Margaret said, “Well, go on. We don’t want to spend all night here.” She spoke more quietly. “Just be careful, Vannie, will you?”
Once Savannah was outside the car, she pulled her heavy jacket around herself. “Go,” she hissed. “Move it back just a little and let’s see what happens.” But before Margaret could put the car in reverse, Savannah let out a yelp, grabbed the back door handle and hollered, “Open up! Let me in!” She heard the lock disengage, quickly pulled the door open, and shrieked, “Scootch over, Colbi!”
Stunned, Colbi grabbed Dolly off the seat and threw herself toward iris, while Savannah leaped into the car.
“What are you doing?” Colbi asked from the floorboards, as Iris and Margaret laughed almost hysterically.
In the meantime, the tabby had squeezed from Colbi’s grip and jumped into the back of the SUV and, before Savannah could get into the car far enough to close the door, Rags made a dive for it and disappeared into the night.
“Oh no,” Savannah said after slamming the door shut, “did he just escape?”
“Who?” Margaret asked.
“Rags. I think he slipped past me.” Her voice pinched, she said, “He’s outside with…”
“With what?” Iris asked, her expertly mascaraed eyes like saucers.
“With…whatever that is out there.” She glanced through the windows, shouting, “Lock the doors!”