A Whisker of Truth

by Patricia Fry

  Savannah began shaking the treat bag close to the hole. She called, “Rags! Rags, are you in there? Come on, Rags.”

  “Over here!” Someone shouted. “I think I hear something over here.”

  “Well, this is certainly turning into a unique day,” the guard muttered, as he, Savannah, and a few others walked to where a new group had gathered.

  “Listen,” a woman said. “Do you hear that scratching? I think your cat’s behind the wall there.”

  “Oh, no.” Savannah looked around. “That wall’s solid.” She drew closer. “Rags! Rags, kitty-kitty, are you in there, boy? Rags!” She put her ear up to the wall. “Yes, that could be him scratching. Darn it, how am I going to get him out of there?”

  The guard let out a deep sigh. “I guess all we can do is wait. If he doesn’t come out on his own, we’ll have to cut a hole in the wall.” He turned to Savannah. “And you’ll pay for that, young lady. You’re the one who caused this commotion.”

  “I understand,” Savannah said. “I just want my cat back.”

  A woman spoke up. “That’s probably a rat. Your cat could be long gone by now.”

  Savannah stared at her for a moment, then went back to listening through the wall.

  “They’ve closed the doors to the public,” another author said. “I’m out of here.”

  “Me too,” someone else said.

  Once the area had been cleared, Savannah put her ear up to the wall again. “I don’t hear anything. Rags! Kitty-kitty,” she called. After listening again, she said, “I don’t think he’s there anymore. Oh my gosh, where’d he go?”

  The guard shook his head. “It’s probably no use, ma’am. This is a big building and the structure, from what I understand, is unique. He can wander around inside these walls till kingdom come and we’ll never find him.”

  “What do you mean?” Savannah insisted, her voice strained.

  “I mean I think your cat is lost to us. I can’t imagine any way we can get him out. If we cut a hole here, he’s likely to just go to another area. We can’t be making holes all over the place. If I know cats—and I’ve had a few in my time—he’ll come out when he’s good and ready and there’s no way you can predict where he’s going to end up.”

  Frustrated, Savannah said, “But we just have to get him out of there. The building’s going to be demolished, isn’t it? We have to find him before the wrecking ball arrives. And why can’t we cut holes in the walls? Who cares at this point? We can’t leave him in there,” she whined.

  “Best maybe to wait until everyone leaves today. He’s not going to come out with all this noise.”

  “Commotion doesn’t usually bother him,” Savannah insisted. “He’s used to it. I take him to events like this all the time. Please, you’ve got to help me get him back.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I have a job to do today and it doesn’t involve trying to find a cat who seems to want to be lost. I suggest you go back to your booth and pack up your things. Of course, you can leave books there. No one’s going to bother them. Now, he knows where you are. If he wants to come out, he can. He’ll probably be waiting there at your booth for you in the morning.” When Savannah hesitated, he said, “Go on back to your booth, ma’am. Go on now.”

  Savannah looked at the wall, then examined the duct opening and called for Rags. When she heard nothing, she ambled back to booth thirty-two, where Tina waited.

  “Did you find him? Please tell me you found him.”

  Savannah shook her head. “They won’t help me. We think he’s in the wall and they told me to just wait until he comes out.”

  “He will, won’t he?” Tina asked. “Come out by himself, I mean.”

  “I don’t know,” Savannah said, sounding defeated. “I just don’t know.”

  “I sold two more of your books,” Tina said. She handed Savannah some cash.

  “Thanks,” she replied without much enthusiasm.

  “Well, I’m packed up. I’d better go,” Tina said. “You’re going to leave, aren’t you? Or will you wait to see if he comes out?”

  Savannah shrugged.

  When Tina saw how distraught Savannah was, she said, “Listen, I’m really, really sorry about this. I had no idea…”

  Savannah stopped her. “I know. It has happened before. You’re not the only one who…” She took a deep breath. “Let’s just pray he comes back on his own. Otherwise…” her voice trailed off. She watched Tina walk away, then gazed in the direction of the duct, when she heard a familiar voice.

  “So how’s it going?” Rochelle asked, approaching at a fast clip. “Looks like I missed all the fun. They’re closing down already?”

  “Yeah, we end at four,” Savannah said. She looked around. “How’d you get in? I thought they closed the doors.”

  Rochelle grinned. “I told them I was your ride. This was a big event, wasn’t it?” When Savannah didn’t respond, she frowned. “What’s wrong? Didn’t things go well for you today?”

  “No,” Savannah carped.

  “What’s the problem? No cat people buying books?”

  “Yeah, we sold a lot of books, it’s just that…”

  “Savannah, what’s wrong?” Rochelle asked when she saw her friend’s eyes fill with tears. “What’s happened?”

  “Rags is gone,” Savannah managed, her voice pinched.

  “What? How?”

  “It was an accident.” Savannah pointed. “We think he went into that vent and he’s lost in the wall someplace. We don’t know what to do other than just wait for him to come out.” Whimpering, she said, “Rochelle, I don’t want to leave him here all night by himself, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  “Oh, no,” Rochelle said, entering the booth and putting her arms around Savannah. “I’m so sorry.” She gazed across the room. “So you think he’s in the wall? Can’t they do something, for heaven’s sake? Why don’t we cut a hole in the wall?”

  “They were going to do that, then they decided it wouldn’t work because they think he keeps moving around in there and we don’t know where he is, exactly. I don’t know what to do. Rochelle, I just have to get him out of there. He could starve to death, be eaten by rats, get lost. This is a big building.”

  “Now, honey,” Rochelle soothed, “there has to be a way. I wonder if we could find a drawing of this building—you know, the architect’s plans. That might help us to figure out where he could possibly go. You say he went in through a vent?”

  “Yes, we think so.” She pointed. “There’s a vent or a duct or something right there. We’re pretty sure that’s where he went in. We heard what sounded like a cat scratching a while ago. Those people over there thought they heard him meowing.”

  “Then why can’t they open up that wall?” Rochelle demanded.

  “I don’t know. The guard said we can’t do it. We have to wait for Rags to come out. I suppose it could be a rat making the scratching sounds.” Savannah looked at Rochelle. “I figure we can lure him out with food at some point, unless he decides to eat the rat while he’s in there.”

  “Excuse me.”

  Savannah and Rochelle turned to see a man with a camera approaching.

  “Excuse me. Are you the one who lost a cat inside the walls?”

  Savannah studied the man for a moment, then admitted, “Yes, it’s my cat.”

  “I’m from the Daily, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  “Like what?” Savannah asked, taken aback.

  “How long’s the cat been in there? How did he come to be in there? Why did you have a cat with you today, anyway?”

  “If it will help get him out of there, I’ll definitely answer your questions,” Savannah said. She turned her back to him. “Otherwise, I’m not interested.”

  The reporter thought for a moment. He glanced at the wall to his left. “Well, publicity often brings results. There could be someone out there with a solution you haven’t thought of. Plus, it’s a great human-interest story. People like happ
y-ending animal stories.”

  “So do I,” Savannah said. “I just have to get him out of there. He must be so frightened.” She scowled. “Or he’s having the time of his life.”

  “Huh?” the reporter questioned.

  When Savannah seemed temporarily unable to speak, Rochelle said, “He’s quite a unique cat with a nose for adventure.”

  “Yes,” Savannah agreed. “He can be a very naughty boy. Drives me crazy, but he could be in danger. I just want my cat back safe and sound,” she whined.

  The reporter hesitated, finally asking, “So how’d he get in the building, anyway?” He smiled. “By the way, I’m Buzz Randall.”

  “Savannah Ivey. I’m the author of a book about the cat.”

  “The one that’s missing now?” Buzz asked.

  Savannah nodded. “Yes, we do book signings and programs at libraries and bookstores together.”

  “You and the cat?” he asked. “Why? What’s so special about this cat?”

  When Rochelle could sense that Savannah was distracted, she responded, “He works with the local police department to solve sticky crimes.” The reporter looked suspiciously at her, and she said, “He’s actually an honorary deputy in Hammond, up north. Maybe you’ve seen the documentary featuring some of the cases he’s worked on.”

  “No, ma’am, I can’t say as I have, but I’ll certainly look it up. You say he works for the sheriff’s department in Hammond?”

  “Yes.” Rochelle picked up a copy of Savannah’s book. “Here, just thumb through the table of contents. That will give you an idea of how talented and valuable this cat is.”

  “No kidding,” he said, in awe. “So how did he go missing?” he asked Savannah.

  “Someone let him out of his pen this afternoon, about half an hour ago, actually.” She pointed. “We think he went into that duct right there.”

  “I’d like to take your picture near where you think he vanished,” Buzz suggested. “Want to hold up one of your books?”

  Savannah hesitated, and Rochelle urged, “It might get someone out here to help him. Go ahead, Savannah.”

  She nodded. “Okay, I guess. I’m just so worried.”

  “I understand,” the reporter said. “Have you called the local Humane Society or animal control? Maybe they can help.”

  “I’ll call,” Rochelle offered.

  “I think maybe once everyone leaves and we offer him some food, he’ll come out on his own,” Savannah said. “I just hope they’ll allow us to hang out here for a while after everyone has left.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Rochelle said, taking long strides toward where the director stood talking to a couple of authors.

  “So how are you feeling about now?” the reporter asked after he’d taken a couple of pictures.

  “Awful,” Savannah admitted. “I just want my cat back.”

  Chapter Four

  “So you couldn’t lure him out with food?” Peter asked later that evening.

  “No,” Savannah wailed. “We couldn’t even hear any activity inside the walls, once it was quiet in the hall. Where can he be?”

  “Adventuring, is my guess,” Rochelle said. “That’s an awfully big building. It must be like a maze in there between the walls.”

  “That’s my phone,” Savannah griped. “I hope it’s not Michael. I can’t face him yet.” She looked at the screen. “Oh, it’s Rob. Hi, Rob. Are you calling to see how many books we sold?” she asked, trying to sound cheerful. “We had a good day, actually. I think we’re going to need more books. When will you be here?”

  “Savannah, that’s not why I’m calling,” Rob said, concern in his voice. “I want to know if you found Rags. I hear he went missing.”

  “No,” she said. “Hey, who told you about Rags?”

  “Tina. I called her to see how it went today. So what happened?”

  “Well, did she tell you that she let him out?” When Rob didn’t respond, she said, “We think he may have found his way into the walls of an old building here. As far as I know, there’s just one way in and out. I don’t think he can find it, and they won’t cut a hole in the wall.”

  “Are you sure he’s in there?” he asked.

  Savannah was quiet for a moment. “No. We’re not sure of anything, but where else could he be? The vent or duct was open, and it’s large enough that he could fit in there. Plus, we heard what could have been a cat scratching in the walls. Oh Rob, I don’t know if that was real or wishful thinking.”

  “So what’s being done?” Rob demanded. “Surely someone can do something. Does anyone have the plans for the building?”

  “Rochelle’s checking into that. She has a friend who works for the city, and we haven’t heard back yet. It’s Saturday, you know.”

  “You say it’s an old building? How old? If it’s historical, the plans might be in the museum archives,” Rob suggested.

  “I didn’t think of that. I’ll tell Rochelle. So you’re here in the city, Rob?”

  “Yes, in a hotel not too far from the Bamford Building.”

  “Good.” She hesitated, then said, “Oh, I need to go, Rob. Peter’s just offered to take us back over to the building to see if he can find any way we can get to Rags from the outside.”

  “Good idea. I’ll meet you over there.”

  Before they could leave, Savannah’s phone chimed again. She announced, “It’s Craig.” Into the phone she said, “Hi, Craig, what’s up?”

  “That’s what I want to know. I heard you lost your cat.”

  “What? How did you hear that?”

  “On the Internet. As you know, I’m a nut for trivial news and doggone if it didn’t come across that a cat’s missing in a historic building in San Francisco. When I read that, I thought it must be Rags, and sure enough… What happened?”

  Savannah heaved a deep sigh. “I can’t believe word has reached so far.”

  “It’s from an article in a San Francisco newspaper. You’re quoted in it.”

  “Yeah, I did talk to a reporter today. Darn! So I guess I won’t be able to keep this a secret from Michael.”

  “Why would you do that? Oh, for the ‘I told you so,’ factor?”

  “Something like that. Craig, we’re on our way over to the building again to see if we can find another way out for him. Can I call you back?”

  “Sure. Contact my detective friend if you need help, Savannah. He may be able to override some of the so-called protocol around that building. Okay?”

  “Yes, I will. Thank you.”

  Once the trio had arrived at the Bamford Building, Peter illuminated the area where Savannah thought Rags had entered the wall. “The bathrooms are over there,” she said. “We think he went in about here.”

  “Call him,” Peter said.

  “Rags! Rags, boy, come on. Here Rags, kitty-kitty.”

  “Now listen,” he whispered. “Do you hear him?”

  After several moments, she shook her head.

  “And Savannah has super-sensitive ears,” Rochelle reported.

  “Let’s walk around the building and see if we can hear anything,” Peter suggested.

  “Nothing,” Savannah said, after they’d walked the entire perimeter of the building.

  “He’s probably back inside the building eating from the garbage can,” Rob suggested, joining them.

  “Oh, hi, Rob,” Savannah said.

  He enveloped her in a bear hug, then acknowledged the others. “He’s probably wondering where all the people went.”

  Savannah grimaced. “Yeah, and I left food for him. Darn it. I shouldn’t have done that. Now he won’t be eager to come out in the morning.”

  “What time do they open?” Rob asked.

  “They said they can let me in at seven.” She looked at Peter, who was gazing toward the top of the building. “Do you see something?”

  “No, I’m just wondering if he could be in one of those abandoned offices up there.”

  Savannah shook her head. �
��They told me there’s no access to the second and third floors, except by an old stairwell that’s sealed off.”

  Peter looked at her. “But if he’s in the wall, he could have access. Don’t you think so?”

  Savannah cringed. “Oh, yes, I guess he could. I didn’t think about that.”

  “We need those plans,” Rochelle said.

  “The original building plans?” Rob asked.