Mansion of Meows (Klepto Cat Mystery Book 9)

by Patricia Fry

  "You don't have to worry about that," Margaret said.

  Savannah shook her head. "Yeah, I just wish we'd found Rags." She faced their hostess and asked, "Would you keep an eye out for him? He's large—dark grey and white."

  Pearl nodded.

  ****

  Within twenty minutes, the two women stepped out of the car and into the arms of their anxiously waiting husbands. Once Michael was sure they were not seriously hurt, he scolded, "Savannah, what were you thinking, walking out into the swamp at night?"

  "In the fog," Max added. "... without a cell phone."

  "Shoot, we didn't even have a decent light with us," Margaret snipped. "That flashlight Vannie dug out of your car was less than useless."

  Savannah walked over to her aunt, took her arm, and said, "Before the third degree, let's get Auntie inside where she can sit down."

  "Yeah," Margaret said, "and can we get something to eat? I'm starved."

  "I'll call the chef," Max said. "What do you want?"

  "Food," Margaret responded, rather impatiently. "You choose."

  "Savannah! Maggie! Thank God!" Iris said as she and Craig emerged from their bungalow. "Where have you been? We were all worried sick."

  "Hi guys," Savannah said. "Let's get Auntie inside and we'll tell you all about it, okay?"

  Before they could walk through the front door of the Hyacinth Bungalow, they heard someone else call out, "Oh, there you are."

  "Hello Mr. Peyton," Savannah said, wincing. "I'm sorry we caused everyone to worry. We didn't mean to... " suddenly she felt overwhelmed and her eyes welled up with tears.

  Charles's stiff stance softened a little. He walked up to Savannah and put his hands on her shoulders. "I know. We're just awfully glad to have you both back." When he noticed the bandage on Margaret's forehead, he asked, "Good God, what happened?"

  "Someone hit me over the head," Margaret explained.

  "Yes, we need to get her inside. Would you like to join us?" Savannah invited.

  He looked from one to the other of the couples. "For a moment, yes."

  Once Margaret was seated, Savannah poured herself and her aunt tall glasses of water. She eased down on the loveseat, taking Michael's hand and pulling him down next to her. After drinking most of the water, she placed the glass on a side table and rested her head on Michael's shoulder. He squeezed her hand.

  "Okay, what happened last night?" Craig asked when Max returned from making the call to the kitchen.

  Savannah pointed. "Okay, we walked out that direction looking for Rags and we... "

  "... got lost," Margaret said.

  Savannah nodded. "That about sums it up. The fog came in and we couldn't see to come back. When we lost sight of the mansion, we got all turned around—didn't know where we were or which way to go."

  "That damn flashlight quit working... " Margaret said.

  "Yes, and someone hit Auntie." She took a breath. "If it wasn't for Pearl, we would surely have... "

  Charles looked at Savannah inquisitively. "Pearl?"

  "Yes, do you know her? She lives way out on the other side of the bog. She was a nurse. She put those butterfly bandages on Auntie's head and let us spend the night in her home."

  Charles leaned toward Margaret. "So who do you think hit you?"

  "Darned if I know," Margaret said.

  "You didn't see who it was?" Craig asked. "Do you remember anything?"

  Margaret thought for a moment. "All I remember is seeing something black in front of me. Then the lights went out."

  "Like someone wearing black or black fur?" Craig pressed.

  Max looked from Margaret to Craig. "Black fur?"

  "Yeah, like a bear. Didn't you see a bear out here one night?"

  "No. I don't think it was a bear that hit me," Margaret said slowly. "I think it was human, but I can't be sure." She touched her forehead. "He packed a wallop, that's for sure."

  "Do you think this... Pearl... hit you?" Craig asked.

  Both women shrugged. Savannah said. "I don't think so. She didn't seem like someone who would do that."

  Margaret spoke up. "But who else would be out there in that gawd-awful place at night?"

  "Well, I'm just glad you two are all right," Charles said. He peered at them. "No sign of Ragsdale, though?"

  Both women shook their heads, then Savannah said, excitedly, "We found his harness—the new one you bought him, Mr. Peyton."

  Margaret jumped in. "Yes, out in the swamp. I thought a wild animal must have gotten him, but it wasn't chewed or anything."

  "Yeah, see?" Savannah said, pulling it out of her jacket pocket.

  Michael examined the harness before handing it to Charles.

  Savannah glanced around at the others. "So have you looked everywhere for Rags?"

  They nodded.

  She slumped in her seat. "Where could he be? He never stays away this long unless... "

  "Unless what?" Charles asked.

  "Unless someone has him. Maybe he was taken." Her voice became accelerated as she said, "Maybe someone picked him up and ran off with him last night." She hesitated. "They tossed the harness out in the bog to throw us off their trail... "

  "Could be," Craig said. "Could be."

  Michael squeezed Savannah's hand. "Mr. Peyton has offered a reward for Rags's safe return. If he was taken for nefarious reasons, this might entice the catnapper to bring him back."

  Savannah turned quickly toward Michael and said, "Oh, and we found his old harness. Remember, Max saw a cat wearing it? Well, one of Pearl's cats had it on. She said Blackie came home with it day before yesterday."

  Charles sat with his own thoughts for a moment and then he stood up. "Well, I must be going. So glad you're safe." He glanced at Margaret. "I'll have my physician out to take a look at you this morning."

  "Oh," Margaret said, taken aback. "I'm... "

  "Yes," Max said with an air of authority, "that would be a good idea." He looked his wife in the eyes. "We will be right here, resting."

  Margaret shrank down a little in her seat.

  "Goodbye, then," Charles said, giving a quick offhanded salute. "Do take care... all of you. We should get word about your cat soon... that is, if someone took him for money... or if someone finds him."

  Once Charles Peyton had left, Savannah faced Michael and grimaced. "I'm sorry, hon. I sure didn't mean to cause you worry." She looked at Max. "Neither of us did. We thought we were on Rags's trail, and then we got lost."

  Michael put his arms around her. "It's okay. I'm not mad at you." He hugged her to him. "I'm just glad you're okay."

  Savannah looked at Craig and Iris. Wiping at her eyes, she said, "I thought you were leaving early."

  "We had to make sure you two found your way back," Iris said, choking up a little.

  "They're okay," Craig said. "Shall we go?"

  Savannah walked across the room and hugged them both tightly. "Thanks for everything."

  Iris pulled back and picked at Savannah's jacket with her fingers. "Are you cold? Why don't you take your jacket off?"

  Savannah glanced briefly at her aunt, saying, "I lost my t-shirt someplace."

  "What?" Michael asked.

  "I'll tell you about it later," she said.

  "Okay, then. See you back home," Iris said. She then scolded, "No more shenanigans, okay, girlfriend?"

  She shook her head. Once the couple had left, Savannah turned to the others and asked, "Did Rob and Cheryl leave?"

  Michael responded. "They're catching a plane to New York tomorrow morning. Oh," he said excitedly, "Rob has two offers for the documentary."

  "Cool," Savannah said, her eyes wide. She then sighed deeply. "But the victory is not so sweet when our Rags is gone."

  "Missing," Max said. "He's not gone, just missing. I think we'll find him."

  Savannah asked weakly, "You do?"

  "Yes," he chuckled. "He's kind of like a
bad penny—always shows up."

  She laughed a little. "Yeah, I guess you're right." She looked down at her clothes. "Auntie, how about we get into some clean clothes?"

  "Yes, you're both a bit grungy," Max said.

  Savannah walked over and play-socked Max in the arm. "Thanks a lot." She then turned to her aunt. "I'll go with you to pick out some clothes and help you get your shower, if you want."

  "Oh, I don't think I need that much help," Margaret said, waving her hand in the air. However, when she stood, she wobbled a little and took hold of Savannah's arm to steady herself. "Well, maybe I do."

  ****

  An hour later, the two couples had just pushed back from their catered breakfast when Savannah rose to answer a knock at the door. "I'm Dr. Reynolds, the Peytons' personal physician. I've come at Charles Peyton's request to see a... " he referred to his notes, "... Margaret Sheridan." He glanced around. "I went to the Gladiola Bungalow and... "

  "Yes, she's here. Come in, please," Savannah said, ushering the stout, sixty-something man into the room. He removed his herringbone flat cap revealing a crop of coarse gray hair.

  As the doctor had examined Margaret, he said, "You got quite a lump there, young lady. Did you see what hit you?"

  "No. I didn't see it coming."

  "Looks like maybe a rock—something at hand, not a planned attack, perhaps."

  When everyone looked puzzled, he said, "It doesn't appear to be a bat or tire iron or butt of a gun, so I doubt that whoever did this was out there with premeditated intentions of harming her." When everyone continued to stare, he explained, "I was medical examiner for a large police department for many years." He looked at Margaret. "Who applied the bandages?"

  "A woman named Pearl. She lives out... "

  "I know Pearl. She's a fine nurse—or was before the accident. Now she stays pretty much to herself, I guess. You couldn't have stumbled across a more capable person to care for you, in my opinion." He looked at both women. "You walked all the way from here to her place... in the dark?"

  "Yes, I guess we did," Savannah said. "Unintentionally."

  He raised his eyebrows. "Pretty gutsy."

  "Pretty dangerous," Michael said, under his breath.

  "Yes, the marshland has swallowed up more than one victim."

  "You mean like quicksand?" Margaret asked.

  Dr. Reynolds laughed. "No, it's the tide and the fog that catch adventuresome souls off guard." He focused on Margaret and then Savannah. "The Peytons' own daughter lost her life out there. Karen was only seven years old." He stared across the room for a moment.

  That's when Max leaned forward. "Do you know, Doctor, who else might be out there... other than this Pearl woman?"

  Dr. Reynolds thought for a moment and said, "There have been rumors... " he looked Max in the eye, glanced at the women. "... but they're only rumors, mind you... "

  "What rumors?" Savannah asked, expressing keen interest.

  He sat back. "Well, I believe it's more of a myth." When he noticed everyone watching him and waiting, he said, "Oh you know, many communities have cryptids—there's the Loch Ness Monster, the Kachina Spirit in these San Francisco Mountains, and Char Man in Ojai, a small town I visit often in Southern California."

  "Big Foot?" Michael offered.

  "Yes," Dr. Reynolds said. "The one here is known as Swamp Man. He supposedly roams the swamps at night doing his best to discourage anyone else from sharing his space. He's reported to have thrown things at teens who party down there or hunters who go out before daylight to hunt water fowl. One college fraternity staked a couple of recruits out there and those two told some frightening stories of a stooped, grotesque figure they saw fading in and out of the fog. Yes, there seems to be something out there, but no one knows quite what it is. Some believe it's purely imaginary. And then something like this happens every once in a while." He looked squarely at the women. "The swamp is no place to be at night."

  "I think they found that out," Max said. He stood and reached into his pocket. "How much do we owe you, Doctor?"

  "Oh no," he said, closing his medical bag. "I'm on retainer for the Peytons—in fact I need to take a look at one of the servants—fell down the stairs last night. Said something on the second floor frightened her and she slipped trying to run away."

  Savannah and Margaret exchanged knowing looks.

  Max reached out to shake the man's hand. "Well, thank you, Doctor."

  "Yes, I appreciate you coming by," Margaret said.

  He looked at her. "Now, you take it easy for a few days." He handed her a packet. "Take these for pain." He made eye contact with Margaret and then Max. "I wouldn't travel, if I were you—at least not until, say, tomorrow afternoon or the next day."

  Michael and Savannah looked at each other. "We aren't going anywhere until we find Rags," she said. She then lurched forward. "Michael, did you call my mother?"

  He watched as Max walked the doctor to the door before responding. "Yes. I told her we decided to stay another day. Didn't want to worry her about your... about you going missing. She called me this morning, though, and wondered why she couldn't get through on your phone. I haven't been answering your calls. She saw a story on TV about Rags." He looked squarely at Savannah. "I told her you were out and you'd call her later. You'd better do that now." He pointed. "Your phone's on the kitchen counter, charging."

  "Thanks," she said, kissing him quickly. She looked into his eyes, then threw her arms around him and squeezed tightly. "Gosh, it's good to be back."

  "Amen," Margaret said. She then suggested, "Hey, it's sunny outside; how about we finish our coffee on the deck?"

  "Good idea," Savannah said over her shoulder. "I'll meet you all out there after I talk to Mom."

  "Hey, you're back," Rob said several minutes later as he stepped up onto the deck outside the Hyacinth Bungalow, where the two couples sat drinking coffee. "What happened?" he asked, seeing Margaret's head wound.

  "Some monster cracked me over the head with a rock, I think," Margaret said.

  "Where were you guys, anyway?" he asked.

  When no one spoke, Michael said, "Max and I'll tell you all about it on our way to the car-rental place. Are you ready to go?"

  Rob nodded. Cheryl looked from one to the other of the women, frowning, then followed Rob out to the parked car.

  "See you after a while," Michael said, kissing Savannah. He looked at her and sucked in his breath. "Stay put until we get back, will you?"

  Savannah avoided eye contact and nodded. She glanced over at Margaret, who gave Savannah a "you'd better not have something up your sleeve" look.

  Once the others had left, Margaret said, "Now why are they going to the car rental place? I thought Rob and Cheryl had a car here."

  Savannah grinned. "I asked that, too. Michael said they were using one of the Peytons' cars. They need a rental car to drive to the airport tomorrow, in case we're able to head home in the morning, which I'm counting on."

  After a while, Margaret noticed that Savannah was staring up at the mansion. "What devilish, dangerous plan are you scheming now, may I ask?"

  Rather defensively, Savannah started, "What makes you think... " When she saw her aunt's knowing grin, she sighed. "Just wondering."

  Margaret's gaze followed Savannah's to a second-story window. "Oh, so you think he's up there somewhere—with those imaginary cats you thought you heard?"

  Savannah nodded. "Didn't you hear what the doctor said? Something up there scared one of the servants." She was silent for a moment, then leaned forward in her chair and peered into Margaret's eyes. "I want to check it out. Are you game? Do you feel like going up there with me?"

  "You mean break and enter the mansion?" Margaret said so loudly that she quickly covered her mouth with her hand and looked around to make sure no one heard.

  "We're guests, aren't we?" Savannah reasoned.

  "Yeah, guests who have permi
ssion to stay in the bungalows, not wander around in the private residence."

  Savannah took on a more serious tone. "I think I left my purse in there when we went out looking for Rags last night."

  "No you didn't, I saw it in... " Margaret started. When she noticed the look on Savannah's face, her eyes lit up a little and she said, "Oh, I get it. Well in that case, maybe we should ask if we can retrieve your purse."

  "Good," Savannah said, quickly standing. She then looked down at her aunt. "If you're sure you feel up to it."

  "Yeah," she said. "I feel pretty good after eating and getting rehydrated. Much better." She laughed a little. "That pain pill the doctor gave me didn't hurt, either."

  Savannah looked down at her aunt's feet. "Go change into your tennies, will you? Those flip—flops will make too much noise."

  Margaret thought about her niece's request. "Okay. I'll be right back."

  Within a few minutes, the women approached the kitchen door to the mansion and knocked. They were relieved when Celine opened it and greeted them. "Oh, glad you made your way back. Where were you, anyway?" she asked. "We heard rumors that you were missing. We thought maybe you'd been kidnapped along with the cat."

  Savannah shook her head. "Naw, just got lost. We're back. Hey, I think I left my purse in here somewhere. Would it be okay if we look around for it?"

  Celine raised her eyebrows. "Oh sure. Come on in. Where do you think you left it? In the theater gallery?"

  "Probably."

  "Want me to send someone to help you look?"

  "Oh no, that won't be necessary. I'm pretty sure I know where I left it."

  "All right, then. I'll get back to my baking." She grinned at Margaret and Savannah. "Puff pastries for lunch."

  "Gosh, we just pigged out on your biscuits and gravy," Margaret said. "But save us some for later, okay?"

  "Sure thing," Celine said as she watched the two women walk through the kitchen into the hallway toward the theater gallery.

  When they reached the living room, Savannah stopped and looked in all directions before darting up the staircase to the second-floor landing.

  Margaret trailed after her at a much slower pace. When she caught up with Savannah, she whispered, "What will you say if they catch us up here?"