by Fry,Patricia
“Is that the place a few blocks over from us on Westin?” Max asked.
Margaret nodded. “Yes.”
“Well that’s where Iris is working. Did you know that? Michael and I saw her with some of the…um…offspring this afternoon.”
Margaret’s eyes became wide. “Holy cow! She didn’t say a word to me about that. Hell, that could be a huge can of worms.” She shook her head slowly. “I wonder if Iris knows what she’s getting into.” She tapped Michael on the shoulder. “You really ought to turn that bullet over to authorities. It just might be an important clue to some of the crazy things that have gone on in that place.”
“Yeah, maybe we should,” Savannah said, sounding weary. She then suggested, “How about we focus on Leo Kittleman this evening. We shouldn’t let anything interfere with all the positive thoughts we want to send for his safe return.” She faced her aunt, who sat next to her in the backseat of their SUV. “Did you bring candles? I think we have some extras, if you need them.”
“Naw, they supply candles at these things,” Margaret explained.
“You’ve attended vigils before?” Michael asked.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Margaret said, “…once.” When she noticed Savannah waiting to hear more, she explained, “Your folks had moved you to Los Angeles by then, Vannie, and I don’t think they told you about it.” When no one spoke, she continued, “That was a sad case. The little boy never came home and he was never found. Seeing his family there at that vigil some eighteen or twenty years ago…well, it was heart-wrenching, as you can imagine.” She faced Savannah. “You probably knew the family, actually. The little boy’s sister was about your age. Do you remember a girl named Alvarado?”
“Gloria Alvarado?” When Margaret nodded, Savannah said. “Yes, I remember that she had a little brother—he was a baby—about three years old, when I knew her.” She stared off into space. “Come to think of it, she hasn’t mentioned him since we resumed contact with one another. What happened, Auntie?”
“He was about eight when he disappeared. He’d spent the night with another family and in the morning he was gone. They thought maybe he woke up, discovered he was in a strange place, and tried to find his way back home. Someone might have picked him up, I guess.”
Savannah cocked her head. “Didn’t he have a disability? I remember there was something…um…different about him.”
“Yes, evidently there was trauma at birth. He didn’t speak until he was nearly eight, then his vocabulary was limited.” Margaret spoke more quietly. “I sure hope there’s a better outcome after this candlelight vigil.”
Chapter 4
“I’m home,” Michael called as he came into the house the following evening.
“We’re in the kitchen,” Savannah said.
When he joined her and Lily, he was barefoot. “There you are,” he said, sitting down and slipping on his flip-flops.
“Shoe,” Lily said, pointing at Michael.
He smiled. “Yes, these are Daddy’s shoes.” Then addressing Savannah, he asked, “Any news of our missing folks—the human one or the furred ones?”
She let out a sigh. “Apparently not. At least I haven’t heard. Colbi and I posted flyers far and wide today, although we can’t imagine the cats would travel over so much terrain as we covered.”
“Yeah, but they could have hitched a ride.” When Savannah chuckled, Michael asked, “What’s funny?”
“Oh nothing, just the image of those two cats alongside the road with their paw-thumbs out, holding a sign saying, “Need a ride to the nearest seafood restaurant.”
He shook his head. “Well, your cat did ride a bus once by himself, remember?”
“How can I forget? Darn it, Michael,” she carped.
“What?”
“Now I’m even more worried. He and Dolly could be anywhere—even in another county or state.”
“Hey, let’s not get carried away, okay?” He pulled a bottle of water out of the refrigerator, asking, “Did you talk to Craig today?”
“No, but Colbi did. He said there’s nothing but dead-ends as far as Mr. Kittleman’s whereabouts. He’s afraid they’re going to call off the search.”
“What does that mean?” he asked, easing into a chair and placing his water on the table in front of him.
“I suppose it means they’ve given up hope and they’ll stop searching, at least in any sort of organized way.”
After sitting quietly for a moment, Michael asked, “What’s for supper?”
“That Mexican casserole you like.”
“Yum.” He picked up Lily, who was toddling past him with a toy drum in her arms, and lifted her into the air. “Yummy, huh?”
“Mummy,” she said, giggling.
“No Mexican casserole for her,” Savannah asserted. “She’s having peas, carrots, and turkey.”
“Ewww,” he said. When Lily looked at him, he repeated, “Ewww.”
She laughed and wrinkled her nose, mimicking him, “Ewww.”
“Michael,” Savannah said while rinsing a head of butter lettuce, “I called Gloria today.”
“Who?” he asked.
She placed several pieces of lettuce in a salad spinner. “My childhood friend, Gloria. After hearing about what happened to her brother, I just felt the strongest urge to reconnect with her.”
“Is she still living in Orange County?” Michael asked, easing Lily to the floor and giving Savannah his full attention.
She shook her head. “No, she’s actually back in Hammond, taking care of her mother.” She stared down at her feet for a moment. “I guess her mother has never been the same since her little boy went missing.”
“Oh, so she talked about that, did she? I thought you said she’d never told you about it.”
“Yes, she actually brought it up.” She took a deep breath. “Things can sure change…and overnight sometimes.” She began spinning the lettuce over the sink. As she placed the spinner on the counter, she continued, “It’s a tragedy any way you look at it, because Gloria had to leave her husband behind in order to come back here. He’s evidently not happy about her bringing their two children to her family home. Michael, her mother still lives in that dangerous neighborhood where she grew up. Gloria and Gabe have a nice home down south with room for her mom, but Mrs. Alvarado won’t budge. She believes her boy will eventually come home and she wants him to be able to find her.”
Michael shook his head. “Sad. Really sad. So will you get together with Gloria?”
“Yes, I want to visit her mother and also see Gloria and meet her two little girls. She’s eager to meet Lily, too.” Her face brightened. “Oh, Michael, guess what? Her youngest daughter’s name is Lilliana. They call her by her formal name. What are the chances?”
“Yeah, that is a coincidence. What’s her other child’s name?”
“Um…what did she tell me? Oh, it’s Guinevere. Can you imagine? I guess her husband’s grandparents are Welch.”
Michael picked up a doll Lily had tossed in his direction and placed it in her wagon as she pulled it past him. “That’s your phone, hon.” When he saw her start to remove the casserole from the oven, he offered, “Want me to get it?”
She nodded. “Please.”
Within a few moments, Michael burst into the room shouting, “They’re back! Savannah, they’re back!”
“Who?” she asked, momentarily confused and feeling a jolt of fear.
“The cats. That was Colbi. She said they just showed up. They’re okay. They seem tired, but…”
“But what?” she asked hesitantly.
“Well, she thinks Rags has blood on him.”
“Is he hurt?” she asked, her voice an octave higher than normal.
“She doesn’t think so. It’s on his neck and one paw. You know Colbi, the reporter—she sees a story in everything.” Michael chuckled. “She said she’s not washing it off Rags because she thinks it’s some sort of evidence or maybe
a clue.”
“Yeah, it might be,” Savannah agreed.
“So is dinner ready?” he asked. “Or do I have time to run over and pick up Rags?”
Savannah thought for a moment, then she looked at him with tears forming in her eyes. She nodded. “Would you mind? I’d really like to have him home.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, hon.”
****
“Rags!” Savannah exclaimed when Michael appeared at the front door with him in his arms.
“Oh boy, does he want down,” he said, releasing the lanky cat and watching him rush to Savannah.
“Where have you been?” she asked, caressing his fur as he wrapped himself around and around her ankles. She cradled his face in her hands and peered into his green eyes. “Shame on you for running off like that. You were gone for over two days,” she scolded. She began scratching him alongside his neck. “What were you thinking? You can’t be luring Dolly away from her home like that. Bad boy.”
Michael laughed. “He thinks all of your words are endearing. He doesn’t know you’re lecturing him.”
“Yeah, well, he is in trouble.” She awkwardly picked him up and kissed the top of his head, then sat down with him. “Let me see your paws, Ragsie.”
“I couldn’t find any sign of injury,” Michael said. “Maybe they caught something and ate it for dinner. It’s probably gopher or bird blood.”
Savannah ran her fingers over the dried blood stain on his paw then examined the spot on his neck. “You know…” she started.
“Oh no, you aren’t really thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?”
“What?” she asked innocently.
“That there’s something sinister or evil attached to that blood.”
“Michael, there’s been a murder and a man is missing. Maybe…just maybe Rags wandered into the midst of something, as you said, sinister. Yeah, I think we should have Craig check out the blood and see if it’s human or animal.”
“I can do it,” Michael said. “Well, you know that. Here, let’s cut some of that fur and I’ll take it to the clinic in the morning and test it.” When he saw the look on Savannah’s face, he sighed. “Okay, I guess I can do it this evening, although I don’t know what difference a day will make.”
“There’s a lot going on, Michael. I’m stressed. Everyone’s stressed—well, you saw the huge turnout last night for Mr. Kittleman. She peered at him for a moment, then said, “Why don’t we eat, then you can go to the clinic and run the test while I get Lily ready for bed.”
****
Savannah had just finished bathing Lily and dressing her for bed when her phone rang. She quickly edged it out of her pocket.
“Savannah, it’s human,” Michael said. He hesitated before asking, “Want me to call the detective?”
“No. I’ll do it. Thanks, hon.” She winced and added, “That’s not the answer I’d hoped for, but something we needed to know. Save the sample for Craig, will you? I’m sure he’ll want it.” After ending the call, Savannah engaged Lily in play with a couple of toys, then sat nearby and called Detective Sledge. “Craig, sorry to bother you. I’m sure you’ve been busy this week.”
“Yeah. I was just sitting down to dinner—Iris made beef stew and biscuits tonight. Can you make it quick, Savannah? I’m hungry.”
“Sure. Just wanted you to know, the cats came home, and…”
“You called me to tell me the cats came home?” He paused. “I mean, I’m glad to hear it, but really, Savannah, is that important enough to interrupt my dinner?” he groused.
“Uh…no. Sorry, Craig. There’s more. Rags has human blood on him.”
After a few moments of silence, Craig asked, “He what?”
“Human blood. He has human blood on his paw and his neck. Michael just tested it at the clinic.”
“What type, does he know?”
“No, only that it isn’t animal. He’s saving a sample for you.”
“Is he still at the clinic? Can you have him bring it by on his way home?”
“I’ll try to catch him. ’Bye, Craig.”
“’Bye. And thank you for interrupting my dinner. This clue may…or may not…be worth it.”
Savannah chuckled. “Any time. Talk to you later.” She quickly placed a call to Michael. When she heard his voice, she said, “I’m assuming you’re still at the clinic, because you wouldn’t be answering your phone while you’re driving, would you?”
“Actually, I’m just leaving. Why?”
“Can you take that blood sample to Craig? He’s home and eager to get his hands on it.”
“Sure. I’ll see you later.”
****
The following afternoon, Savannah had just put Lily down for her nap and was heading to the kitchen to make a batch of cookies for the Alvarado family when her phone rang. “Hi, Craig. What’s up?”
“Well, it’s not from the Rodney Turner murder scene.”
She paused. “Oh, you mean the blood. Wow, have there been any other murders lately?”
“No.”
“Maybe Rags scratched someone who tried to pick him up,” she suggested.
After pausing, he said, “Probably not.”
“What do you mean?” she asked. “Do you know where it came from…whose blood it is?”
Craig cleared his throat and coughed. “Yes, we do. It’s very likely Leo Kittleman’s blood.”
Savannah gasped. “Oh my gosh! How? Craig, what does this mean?”
“I don’t know, Savannah. I guess it means that somewhere in his travels, the cat met up with Leo Kittleman; how and where is anyone’s guess.”
“That’s freaky. I mean, he could be lying hurt someplace…or he’s dead.”
“Not necessarily,” Craig said. “He may be perfectly fine. This could have come from a small cut on his finger.” He chuckled. “You need to strap a camera on that cat of yours when he takes off like that.”
“Wouldn’t that be a kick—to actually see what he does on one of his cat-ventures?” She changed the subject and spoke more quietly. “Craig, have you talked to Mr. Turner’s family…the people next door to us?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Um, is there anything suspicious in their stories or…?”
“What are you insinuating, Savannah? Do you know something we should know? I don’t have time to play games. If you have pertinent information, tell me.”
“Well, I guess actually I don’t. All I can say is, well, if I were you, I’d spend a little time talking to the Cranes and maybe some of the kids.”
He coughed. “Savannah, is this coming from intuition or do you know something? Because if you have some sort of evidence, we’re going to need you to come forward with it.”
“Um…I don’t know, Craig,” she said, sounding a bit frustrated. “I just…”
“I get it, you can’t divulge, right?”
“You might say that.”
He was quiet for a moment. “We have a suspect in custody. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I heard. But…”
“Hey, if you say so, I’m going to listen. I’ve learned to pay attention to you and to your cat. Thanks. I’ll…um…listen and see what I come up with.”
“Good. I just think there’s something wrong in that family…something terribly wrong.”
Craig coughed and cleared his throat. “Thanks for the tip, Detective Savannah.”
She couldn’t help but smirk as she ended the call and headed down the hallway toward the nursery. Before she could step into the room, however, her phone chimed again. She ignored it. With her hands on her hips, she peered at her child, who stood up in the crib smiling. “Don’t feel like taking a nap today, huh?” She lifted Lily and walked with her toward the kitchen. “Want to help Mommy make cookies?”
“Cookie?” Lily repeated.
“Yes, we’re going to make oatmeal raisin cookies…” she looked down at her phone, which was ch
iming again, and sighed. “…after we call Uncle Craig.” She placed the toddler in a chair at her little table and handed her a bowl of fruit. “You didn’t eat this for lunch; maybe you’re hungry now.” When she saw the baby start to eat, she picked up her cell phone and touched the screen. “Hi, Craig. You called?”
“Yes, I had a thought.”
“Oh?”
“About your cat and Colbi’s cat.”
“What about them?”
After hesitating, he said, “I’d like to follow their trail.”
“What?” she asked. “You want us to turn them loose again so you can follow them?”
He laughed. “No. I want to see if we can find out exactly where their recent travels took them.”
“How are you going to do that?” Savannah asked, suspiciously.
“Well, I have a plan. See what you think. They were gone for what—forty-eight hours?”
“Yes, something like that, I guess—two whole days and two nights. We figure they got out around one on Monday afternoon and they came back last night a little after six.”
“So around fifty hours,” he deduced.
“Yes.”
He cleared his throat. “What do you think about asking for help in tracking them?”
“Huh?”
“How many people do you know who’ve installed surveillance cameras outside their homes these days?”
“Well, I guess a few,” she said. “There are people with them in that tract behind us. They caught pictures of Rags taking stuff from their yards a couple of times during that fiasco a few weeks ago. And they got some fuzzy pictures of Luke borrowing things from them when he was…”
“Yeah, I know of the complaints that came in about that kid. But I guess things have calmed down over there since you cracked the case of the borrowing burglar and found the perpetrator a job at your friend’s cat ranch,” Craig said.
“Uh-huh, but I don’t think anyone actually identified Luke in any of their pictures. They don’t know who it was or that he’s no longer a threat to their privacy.” She laughed. “According to my aunt, some of those people are still watching for the burglar to reappear.”