Mansion of Meows (Klepto Cat Mystery Book 9)

by Patricia Fry

  "I thought I heard something on the other side of that wall."

  "I doubt it. There's no one up here. Never has been... well, since the children... "

  "Since the children what?" Cheryl asked. "There were children living here?"

  "Oh, that was a long time ago. You aren't interested in that... "

  "What if I say I am?" she said in a throaty voice. "Then would you tell me the story?"

  Rupert let out a guttural chuckle. "Hey, do that again and I'll tell you any story you want to hear."

  The snoopers back on the deck exchanged glances as they listened for Cheryl's response, "Not just yet, Rupie. Be patient. You need to give me what I want, first. Remember our little deal?"

  "Yeah, I remember."

  "Then hands off, okay?" she said rather sternly.

  He sighed. "All-righty then. Here's the story: When Charles married Henrietta, she had two kids. They lived on this wing. The kids loved cats, so Henrietta had the cat playroom built as part of their quarters. Karen's room is on the other side of the hall."

  Savannah's eyes widened upon hearing Karen's name. The group listened intently as Rupert continued. "This was Arthur's room, next to the cat room. I was the overseer for the children's cats and some of the kids' activities as they got older."

  There was a pause, then Cheryl asked quietly, "Did something happen? You seem upset."

  "They were good kids. Karen loved to ride her pony. I took Arthur fishing at the inlet a lot." He chuckled. "Karen didn't like to go down there and get her pretty shoes all soggy." He sounded as if he were choking back tears. "They're both gone now, you see. Karen drowned and Arthur died in a fire. I haven't been in here since... "

  Cheryl sounded sincere when she said, "I'm sorry. How horrible for you. When did this happen?"

  "They died on the same weekend. Karen was seven and Arthur was ten." His next words were slightly garbled. "They were good kids. There was no reason for this to happen." Now he sounded angry. "If only I'd been here, but Charles sent me and their nanny away that week. He thought we needed a vacation from the kids. It never would have happened if I'd been here watching over them."

  All of those in the group listening in on the conversation were stunned. They solemnly looked from one to the other, unable to speak.

  Cheryl asked, "When did this happen, Rupert?"

  "It was seven years ago next month. Seems like yesterday." He took a ragged breath. "If only I'd been here." He paused and then said, "But at least I didn't have to go through the interrogation everyone else went through."

  "Interrogation?" Cheryl questioned.

  Rob said under his breath, "Good girl, Cheryl." He looked at the others and whispered, "She's asking all the right questions."

  They heard Rupert respond, "Yes, everyone here was suspect. Even Charles and Henrietta—oh, and his mother. She was with the children when they... died. She always had the children when their nanny and I weren't here. I think investigators finally determined that Charles's mother was probably negligent—maybe had too much to drink or something and wasn't watching them closely enough, but Charles got her off. That didn't seem to sit well with Henrietta. She hates that woman. Charles has to sneak around to see his mother, which I don't think is very often. I hear she's become a hermit of sorts."

  After a long silence, Cheryl could be heard saying, "Fascinating story, Rupert. So this was Arthur's suite and Karen's was across the hall there?"

  "Yes."

  "Can I look around?"

  "Help yourself," he said without much enthusiasm.

  "It's spacious. Nice decor—looks fit for a little boy. I can see the bungalows from this window—cool," she said. "Why is the window covered in black cloth?" she asked.

  Rupert's voice was softer now. Rob explained to the others, "He's probably across the room and his voice isn't picking up well. I think he said something about respect for the dead."

  "This is strange," Cheryl said. "There's a wad of what looks like cat fur here in the wastebasket."

  They heard Rupert more clearly now. "Hmmm. I guess they left things the way they were. Arthur always had cats in here."

  "Seems fresh to me," she said.

  "YES!" Rob said quietly, celebrating Cheryl's investigative skills.

  The eavesdroppers heard no comment from Rupert.

  A few seconds later, Cheryl said, "This sure is a spacious suite. It has everything a ten-year-old boy could want—TV and game room, toy room. Look at all of the toys." She paused then said, "I wonder why they didn't donate them to a children's hospital or an organization that collects toys for kids?"

  There was no response. They heard her ask, "Where does this door lead?"

  "Huh? Well, I don't know. I don't remember seeing that door before. Let's find out where it goes." After a few seconds, he said, "Locked. It's probably a closet or something."

  "Don't you have a key, Rupert?" Cheryl asked sweetly. "You said you have keys to every room in this castle."

  "Let me see," he said. Several minutes passed before they heard him say, "Nope; none of my keys fit that lock. That's just plain strange."

  "Can I see Karen's room?" Cheryl asked.

  "Good girl," Rob said under his breath.

  "Um, well... maybe," was Rupert's response. After another minute or so of silence, he said, "Just as she left it," and he choked up again. "You know, I'd rather not do this now. Can we just go?"

  "Sure," Cheryl said. "I'm tired, anyway. I'd better get back; I'll be missed. Thank you for showing me around. I enjoyed it."

  "Yeah. I didn't," he said. Minutes later, he was heard saying, "Maybe we can get together another time?"

  "Sure, Rupert."

  "Wow," Savannah said when Cheryl returned to the bungalow, "that was incredible."

  "Hey, good job, girl," Rob said, high-fiving her.

  "I'm glad he got out of the mood," Margaret quipped.

  "Me too," Cheryl said. "That couldn't have worked out better. Except... "

  "Except what?" Rob asked.

  "Except I wish we could have opened that locked door." She became more animated. "Savannah, I believe there have been cats in that room recently. That wad of fur I saw in the wastebasket was not seven years old. Don't you think it would have been covered in dust particles by now?"

  "But where are the cats?" Savannah asked no one in particular. "Why didn't you find anyone or any cats in there?"

  Cheryl appeared to be contemplating the question. "I think that locked door is the key. I walked through the entire suite. Rupert said it was left as it was seven years ago and every indication is that it was. But I have proof that someone is still using that room."

  "Proof?" Savannah asked with intense interest.

  "Yes," Cheryl said. "I also found this. It looks like it has little teeth marks on it."

  The others moved closer to Cheryl, eager to see what she had pulled from her pocket.

  "I spotted it in the wastebasket and picked it up when Rupert was distracted." She held it out. "It's a receipt for cat food, dated two days ago."

  "Wow!" Savannah exclaimed. She took the receipt. "Sure looks like kitty teeth marks, doesn't it?" She gazed up at the window. "Rags is up there, I'm sure of it! Why? Who has him?"

  "Well, Vannie, things are looking up," Margaret said.

  "What do you mean?"

  Margaret smiled. "At least you know they're feeding him."

  Chapter 9

  "So can we get a search warrant?" Savannah asked into the phone after telling Detective Craig Sledge what Cheryl had uncovered the night before.

  Craig chuckled. "So the cat has found himself in another interesting predicament, huh?" He cleared his throat before saying, "Gosh, I don't know about a search warrant to look for a cat in a mansion, Savannah." When she didn't respond, he said, "I'll tell you what; I know some officers up that way. Let me see what I can find out. When are you coming home?"

  "Not u
ntil we find Rags," she said. She spoke more softly. "Craig, would you ask Iris to go by and play with Lily? I want her to see familiar faces—people she loves—while we're away." She started to choke up. "I miss her so much."

  "I know you do, honey. We'll go see her and tell her Mommy misses her."

  "Thanks, Craig," she said sniffling. "You're the best."

  ****

  "Are you ready?" Savannah called through the French doors to the Sheridan's bungalow later that morning.

  "Yeah, let's go for a hike," Margaret said.

  "Are you sure you're up to it?" she asked. "Michael said he'd go with me if you don't."

  "Yeah, I feel fine," Margaret said. "Only this time, I'll have my charged-up cell phone with me in case I need a lift home."

  "Me, too," Savannah said. "And we'll be home before dark."

  "So why are we going to look at the gravestone?" Margaret asked as they walked down the road away from the mansion.

  "Curiosity," Savannah said. "Aren't you curious about what Rupert told Cheryl? That gravestone we saw on the edge of the rose garden was evidently Karen's. But where's Arthur's? I told Rob I'd see if it was there, too—for his documentary, you know."

  The two women trudged through the brush, walked around in the rose garden, and came to the same conclusion: "There's only one grave marker, and it's Karen's," Savannah said. "Poor little girl. It really is a sad thing when a child dies." She stared down at the marker. "She must have been so scared."

  "What about Arthur?" Margaret asked. "Didn't Rupert say he died in a fire? That would be more frightening and painful than drowning." She looked up. "Oh, here are our hubbies."

  "Ready?" Michael asked through the open car window.

  "Yes," Savannah said, climbing into the backseat of the SUV. "There's only the one marker. We looked everywhere around here. What are Rob and Cheryl doing this morning?" she asked, once she and Margaret had fastened their seat belts.

  "He wants to quiz some of the staff," Michael said. "He'd like to speak with as many as he can before the Peytons return."

  "You doing okay?" Max asked Margaret.

  She nodded.

  Savannah glanced down at her phone. "Oh, Craig's calling. Hello Craig."

  "Hi. Boy, have you fallen into a can of worms."

  "What? How?" she asked, glancing around at the others.

  "The case around the children's deaths—you know that they died within a few days of one another. It was a huge case... got tons of publicity and then it was over—like it was swept under a big rug."

  "What are you talking about, Craig?"

  He coughed and cleared his throat. "Charles Peyton was a prime suspect in the children's deaths. The day before they planned to officially charge him, the case just kind of went away."

  "What?"

  "Well, they decided the deaths were accidental and no one was at fault. They did slap his mother's hands for being negligent and not watching the children more closely. A strange thing, Savannah... I talked to an old colleague of mine up there and he said they had an eyewitness to the girl's death."

  "Who was the eyewitness?" she asked.

  "Her brother, Arthur Spence. But before they could get him to talk, he died in that house fire."

  "Gads," she said. "So what do you think?"

  "I don't know, but I got the impression that my colleague believes there's a murderer running loose on the Peyton compound. He confided that shortly after the accusations went away, his superior retired to some exotic island, never to be heard from again."

  "Got paid off, huh?"

  "It appears that way," Craig said. "So what are you up to today?"

  "We're headed to the library to see what clues we can find."

  "What, exactly, are you looking for?" he asked.

  "I want to know about the mansion, the Peytons, and especially that room upstairs. I figure we might find the original plans for the place, either at the library or the museum. Craig, someone's keeping cats up there, and maybe Rags is one of them. That room is not empty." She then asked him, "Do they know where Charles's mother is now? I wonder if she secretly lives up there in that room."

  "Could be, I guess." He chuckled. "Castles seem to always have secrets, don't they?"

  "Yeah, why is that?"

  He thought for a moment then said, "Probably because some rich people have dirty laundry. They're accustomed to getting their way and they can pay their way into or out of just about anything."

  "So you think Rags is hiding in a bunch of dirty laundry?" she asked, laughing. "Something like that, Savannah. Something like that."

  ****

  Two hours later, as the foursome drove home from the library, Savannah said, "Rob's going to find this information very interesting, don't you think?"

  "Oh yes," Margaret agreed. "I can't believe they ended up determining the children's deaths were coincidental accidents."

  Michael glanced at Savannah in the rearview mirror. "Did you see that bit about the boy—Arthur? One journalist reported that he was so traumatized by his sister's drowning death that he sort of had a nervous breakdown. Before he was able to answer any questions, he died in that awful fire."

  "I'll bet he was scared speechless," Max said.

  "By what he saw?" Savannah asked.

  "Or by what happened to him that day. They say he nearly drowned trying to save his sister."

  "Or someone drowned her and tried to drown him, as well," Margaret suggested.

  Michael glanced at Max. "The only one who knows for sure is the grandmother, Charles Peyton's mother. I wonder where she is."

  Savannah leaned forward. "Yeah, but she wasn't actually with the children when Karen drowned. Remember, she said she had walked back to the cabin where they were staying and told the kids to sit on the bank. She figured Karen had fallen in and when Arthur tried to pull her out, he fell in. But he was able to swim to safety."

  "It sure could have happened that way," Max said. "Or someone else could have been out there with the children. Maybe Peyton's mother left the kids with another adult that day."

  "Like Charles Peyton, himself?" Margaret asked.

  "Perhaps," he said. "But what about the fire—the cabin where they were staying burned, right?"

  "Yes, the same weekend." Michael shook his head. "Imagine two children from the same family dying under suspicious circumstances within days of each other."

  Max shifted in his seat. "But they didn't find Karen's body until after the fire." He thought for a moment then said, "Strange how the grandmother got out, but the boy couldn't. The fire must have been more intense where he was sleeping."

  Margaret nodded. "But some hunters were able to get him out. Did you see that report saying that when they showed up, the grandmother was standing outside just watching the fire? When she saw them, she started screaming and carrying on about a boy being inside, so one of them went in and got him out."

  "Step—grandmother," Savannah corrected. "She was not a blood relative. And the boy didn't die in the fire. The family announced a few days later that he had died in a burn center. But where is Arthur's gravestone?"

  "Do you think the children are actually buried on the property, or is that stone just a memorial for Karen?" Max wondered.

  Savannah picked up her phone. "Oh, a text from Craig. He says he's coming up here to meet with his colleague and see if he can get a search warrant for that room. He believes me that Rags could be in there. Yay! He says he'll be in Frisco this evening. He won't be staying at the mansion and he suggests we move out, too." She glanced up at the others before reading more slowly. "He says, 'You could all be in danger if you're too close to stumbling upon some truth that could incriminate someone in the family or on the staff.'"

  "Holy cow," Margaret said.

  "Okay, Savannah, start checking for motels in the area," Michael instructed. "... and you'd better let Rob know."

  After sending a
nd receiving a couple of text messages, Savannah announced, "Rob wants to meet with us and compare notes this evening. I told him I'd let him know where we're staying."

  ****

  Late that afternoon, Savannah ushered Rob and Cheryl into the suite she and Michael had reserved at the Courtyard Inn.

  "This place isn't as plush as your former digs," Rob observed.

  "No, but I'd rather be safe," Savannah said. "Only, I wish I knew Rags was safe, too. I'm really worried. I don't like being so far away from him."

  Just then her phone rang. "It's Rochelle," she announced, as she walked away from the others to take the call. When she returned, everyone was seated in the small sitting room talking about their findings at the library. Savannah squeezed in on the sofa between her aunt and her husband.

  Michael patted her knee. "We wouldn't let Rob tell us his news until you came back. Everything okay with Rochelle and Peter?"

  "Yes," she said. "They were just checking in to see if anything had changed since we spoke last night. Rochelle was fascinated when I told her about our weird discoveries." She glanced around to make sure everyone was listening. "She's psychic, you know. She said Rags is okay and that he is close by. She advised that we continue on the path we're taking, but in order to protect him, we must fly under the radar. Otherwise... in her words... we could inadvertently tap into a hornets' nest."

  "That's a bunch of clichés—do you know what it means?" Max asked.

  "Well, I guess just to be careful who we trust and how we conduct this... " She paused, then asked, "What do you call what we're doing?"

  Max responded, "A clandestine operation? A secret mission?"

  "Illegal espionage?" Margaret offered. She giggled and nudged Savannah with her shoulder. "And if there are hornets, it's your cat that's responsible for stirring them up."

  Savannah grimaced, then asked Rob, "Well, what did you find out?"

  "We had a few conversations with some talkative people today who had stories to tell; others didn't want to talk to us at all. We learned that Charles never did accept Henrietta's kids. They were quite young when he and Henrietta married. He thought of them as a nuisance. In fact, one source thinks he was jealous of them and considered them a risk to his share of Henrietta's money. Most of the money came from her marriage. She may have been having an affair with Charles when her husband died in a car accident, and in fact, Charles thought the little girl could be his. No one knows the results for sure, but they think he probably found he was not the father."