Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 04 - Undercover Cat (11 page)

“Oh stop, will you? Traveling with you is…”

“What?” Brianna challenged. “A joy? An adventure? Gobs of fun? I’ll bet I’m more fun than Bob.”

Gladys smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“Get in the car, you cougar,” Brianna said with a laugh.

“Cougar?”
Savannah looked puzzled. “Mom, is Bob younger than you?”

“Well, of course,” Gladys said playfully. “I’m not going to date some old geezer who uses a walker and wears diapers.”

The three women laughed. Michael just shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Not to change the subject,” Gladys said, “but
Savannah, that was a delicious cobbler you made last night.”

“You had cobbler?” Brianna asked. “What kind?”

“Berry,” Gladys said, “from berries they picked last summer.”

“Sounds yummy.”

“How was your dinner with Bud? Where’d you go?” Savannah asked.

“He took me to Sapori d’Italia. It was wonderful,” Brianna swooned.

“Oh yes, I remember when Michael took me there,” Savannah said. She looped her arm through Michael’s. “It was what—our second or third date?” she asked.

“Something like that,” he said.

“Romantic,” Savannah said.

“You got that right,” Brianna agreed.

Suddenly, everyone turned toward the highway.

“Who’s that coming up here on that little motorbike?” Savannah asked.

“Looks like Bud,” Michael said.

Gladys smirked in Brianna’s direction. “You’re dating a biker?”

Savannah glanced over at her sister in time to see a big smile forming on her face. “Hi Bud,” she said, rather breathlessly as he stopped the bike, set the stand, and pulled off his helmet. He stepped off the small bike and Brianna ran up to him and wrapped her arms around him.

“Just came to tell you goodbye,” he said.

“Again?
I thought we said our goodbyes last night,” she said in a flirty manner. “Anyway, I’ll be back next week to stay. We’ll only be thirty miles apart.”

“Yeah I know.” He pulled her to him and kissed her. He stepped back; lingered while drinking in her pretty face. Taking her hand, he then walked over to Gladys and said, “Goodbye, Mrs. Jordan.
Nice to see you again.” He looked from Gladys to Brianna. “Have a safe trip home.”

Michael, Savannah and Bud waved as the duo climbed into the car and drove away and then watched as the car disappeared into a bend in the road.

Bud stood there for a few seconds longer and then said, “Well, I’d better go do my rounds.”

“Bud, you’re a veterinarian now; you don’t have to do the early morning stuff. Lisa and the new guy, Spence, can do that for you.”

“Yeah, I know—old habits are hard to break, I guess.” He turned toward his motorbike. “See ya later, Dr, Mike…Savannah.” The Iveys waved and then ambled toward the porch with Lexie jumping and dancing around them.

“Oh, that’s my cell,” Savannah said as they walked up the steps. “It’s Iris—why is she calling so early?”

“Answer it and see,” Michael suggested as he darted in the front door and off down the hallway to finish getting ready for work.

In a few minutes, Savannah rushed toward the bedroom. “Michael, Michael!” she called.

“What?” he asked as he stepped out of the bathroom, a can of shaving cream in one hand. “They found Colbi. She’s safe,” Savannah said, tears streaming down her face.

“Really?
That’s great news,” he said.

“She’s going to be in the hospital for a day or so. She was dehydrated and practically starved, from the sounds of it. And she almost burned to death; suffered from smoke inhalation.” She choked up. “It must have been horrible for her.”

“Who took her? Where was she?”

“Oh, interesting story, hon.
It was those cat hoarders Auntie and I visited that day—the authorities found Colbi from the address on the card Rags had.” She hesitated. “Only they didn’t catch the creeps. They got away.” She tightened her lips into a thin line and said with determination, “But they’ll get them, I’m sure of it.”

“Rags did it again, huh? Boy is he an asset to law enforcement in this county. He ought to open his own private-eye business, don’t you think?”

“Oh Michael, you’re silly.”

He walked over and kissed her. “Well, you’re beautiful.”

Savannah smiled. “Oh!” she said, sounding startled.

“What?” he asked.

She laughed. “Didn’t you feel that? The baby just kicked. I guess he’s happy, too.”

“Doing a little football practice in there, huh?”

“Yeah, or a pirouette.”

“A what?”

“Ballet.”

“I hope he doesn’t want to do ballet,” he said.

“But
she
might.”

“Oh yeah—a girly thing.”

“Or she might want to play football.”

“Do you think so?” he asked. “Do girls do that?”

“Sure, some girls do.”

Michael put his hands on Savannah’s bulging stomach and felt around for activity. “Guess he went back to sleep,” he said. He started to return to the bathroom, but stopped and said, “Hey hon, I forgot to tell you. I got up in the night to get an antacid and…”

“My dinner made you sick?”

“Ah, no. Just ate too much I think, and had two glasses of wine, if you’ll remember.”

“I remember.”

“Anyway, I stepped out on the porch and looked over toward the Tindle place and I saw something.”

Savannah perked up. “You did? So Michael, what did you see? What do you think is going on?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “It’s a mystery to me. But like you and Brianna described, I saw movement—almost ghost-like movement and light. I darn near decided to walk over there, but figured it was actually none of my business what goes on at old man Tindle’s place.” He looked at his watch, then walked back into the bathroom and prepared to shave. Savannah followed him.

“It’s just strange to see any activity at their house so late at night,” she said. “What time was it when you saw it?’

“Right around one thirty,” he said picking up his razor. “Isn’t that when you’ve been seeing it?”

“Yeah, one or two o’clock.”
She leaned against the vanity. “You know, I was talking to Antonio yesterday and he said he’s noticed more varmint activity around the place lately.”

“Really?
Why is that, do you think?” he asked between razor strokes.

“I don’t know. Antonio doesn’t know. He just said he’s finding more dens and holes and damage.”

“Damage?”

“Something’s been disturbing his winter veggie garden out there. He said something has been digging in the lawn—making quite a mess.”

“Well that’s odd. We’ve never had much trouble with vermin or varmints, have we?”

“No, not to this degree, I guess.”

Michael rinsed his razor and wiped the remaining shaving cream from his face before heading into the bedroom. He glanced back at Savannah. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Berry cobbler?” she suggested as she joined him in the bedroom.

He smiled over at her. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

As Michael sat down on the chair, took off his slippers, and began putting on his sport shoes, Savannah walked over and picked up Buffy from her canopy bed. She held the petite cat in her arms. “You are so yummy,” she murmured to the little Himalayan mix.
“And soft and sweet. Wanna have some breakfast?” she asked into the cat’s fur.

Just then the door pushed open wider and Rags entered the room. “
Prrrrrrt,” he said as he bumped his head into Michael’s hands, then he batted at one of his shoelaces. Buffy stared down at the other cat from Savannah’s arms.

“I know one cat that’s hungry,” she said, also looking at Rags.

He walked over and stretched his paws up toward Buffy, reaching as far as he could up Savannah’s legs.

“Well, let’s go eat, guys,” Savannah said as she eased Rags back to the floor with one hand and led the way, carrying Buffy, into the kitchen.

Once the animals were fed, she looked at Michael, who sat at the table eating a bowl of cobbler. She sat down across from him and said, “You know, I’ve been thinking about Colbi. She’ll probably need time to recuperate once she’s out of the hospital and she has no family, except, I think, an uncle in Missouri. How do you feel about us offering her a place to stay here for a few days—or as long as she wants—until she feels like going back home?”

“Honey, I think that would be really nice of you. Sure, if you want do to that—if you’re up to it—it’s
a-okay with me.”

“I think I’ll drive over to the hospital tomorrow and let her know she’s welcome.”

***

Later that evening, Damon walked through the door of his mother’s home. “Damon, honey, how is she?”

“Hi Mom, Craig. Doing better, I think.” Damon smiled from one to the other as they sat together on the sofa in the living room. “She’s weak and her voice sounds like a frog after all of that smoke she inhaled. They have her on all sorts of machines and treatments—oxygen therapy…I think she’s doing pretty good under the circumstances.”

“It was a close call,” Craig said, shaking his head.

“Yeah. Sure was,” Damon said. “Any word about those two lunatics that took her?”

“Not yet, but we’ll get ’
em. You can bet on it.”

“I’d sure like to get my licks in once you do,” he said, running one hand through his hair.

“Did you notice your cat?” Iris asked with a smile.

“My cat?
Where is she?”

“Look over in Willie’s bed.”

Damon turned, took a few steps, then broke out in a wide grin. “Well, I’ll be,” he said as he walked over to pet the family dog and the green-eyed tabby who was sharing his bed with him. He spun around toward Craig. “What happened with all of those cats in that house?” he asked.

Craig winced and said, “I ended up with four of ’
em in my car. Took them over to the shelter. They were going to send someone out to the neighborhood this morning to set traps for the others.”

“Traps?”

“Humane traps,” he said with a grin.

“Oh.” Damon nodded.

“They’ll have to euthanize some of the cats, you know,” Craig said. “Those people had no business taking in even one, let alone a dozen or more cats. According to the folks at the shelter, some of the cats are sick.” He leaned forward from his seat on the sofa and rested his arms on his knees. You know, most cat hoarders actually start out liking cats—in fact, so much so that they want to do everything they can to help them. So they bring them home. They either don’t understand the concept of neutering them or they can’t afford to, so they end up with five or six times as many cats as they started with. Soon, they’re overwhelmed and can’t properly care for the animals.”

Iris pulled back from Craig and stared at him through eye slits. “Since when did
you
become a cat person?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he teased.

“Really?”

“Actually, a gal at animal control clued me in this morning when I took the cats in there.” He frowned. “One of those cats did a number in my car—I think it was number one—but whew, what an odor! I’m borrowing a car tonight; mine’s with the detail people.”

“Did the house burn to the ground?” Iris asked.

“Darn near,” Craig said. “Most of what didn’t burn was water damaged.” He looked over at Damon. “It’ll take a while before we know if we have any incriminating evidence against them. According to the gal at the shelter, they weren’t your typical hoarders. They were most likely extorting money from innocent cat lovers by claiming they were running a legitimate cat-rescue facility. They needed the cats so they could take pictures and videos of themselves caring for the cats and pleading for money to help little Fluffy or
Tuffy with an expensive operation or for food.”

Damon sat down on the edge of a straight back chair. “I think that’s the scam
Colbi was going to expose in her story,” he said.

“Yeah, she was working with the people at the shelter. They were hoping to shut these crooks down, which is probably why they grabbed
Colbi—to gag her.”

“People really send money to someone they don’t even know?” Iris asked.

Craig nodded. “Yes, apparently they do. Some people can be real convincing and we’re a gullible society. These two will set up another scam, maybe involving cats, maybe something else. We will find them.”

“I hope so,” Damon said.

***

Early the next morning, Damon awoke with a start.
What the devil was that?
He reached over and turned on the bedside lamp in time to see his feline house guest leaping and rolling around on top of him. “Oh, it’s you, is it?” he said with a snarl. But he couldn’t stay angry for long. The kitten’s antics were too entertaining. Damon absently moved one of his hands and Dolly pounced on it with an exuberance he had never seen in an animal. “What do you think you’re doing, little one?” he said. Before he knew it, he was baiting the kitten—moving his hand in a tantalizing fashion under the covers and watching Dolly react using all of her keen cat-like senses. “Boy, you’re fast, aren’t you?” he said with a laugh.