by Patricia Fry
Not knowing what to do, Michael wrapped his arms around Rags and carried him to the stage, where Savannah took his leash and continued with her part. Upon finishing her first scene, she joined the others backstage feeling terribly embarrassed.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, to Buzz. “I don’t know what happened.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “Believe me, the audience loved it. I have no problem with a change in the script if it affects the audience in a good way and this did. I wouldn’t mind him doing that in every performance. Do you think you can arrange it, Savannah?”
She shook her head in embarrassment. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
“Hey, you handled it beautifully,” Buzz said.
“But the script,” Savannah complained.
“I told you, where cats are concerned we sometimes have to throw the script out the window, and this was one of those times.” He faced her and squeezed her upper arms. “Beautiful,” he said. “A happy audience is what we want, and Rags made them happy. Keep it up.” He reached down and petted Rags. “You, too, buddy.” He encouraged a kitty fist bump; those who saw it laughed when Rags touched Buzz’s hand with his paw.
When the Friday night performance was over, the cast stepped into the spacious lobby to greet members of the audience. Savannah and Rags received most of the attention. She fielded many questions about the cat and how she manages to train him and what breed he is and on and on.
“You should have your books here,” a voice said from behind Savannah. She turned and greeted, “Rob, Cheryl! I didn’t know you were here. How nice to see you.”
“That was brilliant,” Rob said. “He was super entertaining.”
“I loved the part where he took that envelope or whatever it was from the little cart and ran offstage with it,” Cheryl said. “How’d you get him to do that?”
“Treats,” Savannah admitted. She gestured toward Cami and said, “She was offstage with treats for him.”
“Still, pretty remarkable,” Rob said. Others around them agreed. When someone asked for his autograph, Rob said, “Good idea. I’ll bring some of that nontoxic ink for tomorrow’s showings and he can paw-tograph the programs.”
“Brilliant,” Buzz said. “And you are…?” he asked, offering his hand.
Rob took it, saying, “I’m Rob, Rags’s agent.”
“Oh?” Buzz asked curiously.
Rob glanced at Savannah and asked Buzz, “Didn’t she tell you this isn’t Rags’s first rodeo? He stars in a documentary and some children’s books. Yeah, he’s pretty well-known in cat circles and police circles.”
“Police circles?” Buzz questioned. “What—is he a fugitive?”
When Rob saw another wave of people moving forward to greet the cast members, he handed Buzz his card and suggested, “Check out his website.”
“Rags has a website?” Savannah asked.
“Well, yes. Didn’t I tell you that? It’s been up and running for a while. I’ll add this event to it tonight, along with my review of the play.”
****
During the second performance, which was Saturday afternoon, Rags caused a stir when he grabbed a stuffed cat from one of the actors and ran off with it. This might have gone unnoticed if the actor hadn’t chased Rags offstage. When Rags returned, still with the stuffed cat, and with the actor chasing after him, the audience roared.
“I guess he wants another treat,” Cami said when Rags approached her enthusiastically immediately following his unexpected display.
The audience was still chuckling when the actor returned to his place with the toy cat.
At the end of this performance, Buzz shared a little of Rags’s background with the audience, based on what he’d learned at the cat’s website. He announced that Rags would be paw-tographing programs in the lobby, an activity that was a big hit.
After the crowd had dispersed for the most part, Michael whispered in Savannah’s ear, “You have another performance in a few hours; why don’t you and Rags rest for a while.”
She nodded. “Good idea. I’ll be right back. I think I left my water bottle backstage when I gave Lily a tour.” With Rags in tow, she headed to where she thought she’d left the bottle, when the cat tugged and pulled again toward stage right. He batted at one of the curtain panels.
“Oh, Rags, we need our rest. Let’s go, now.” She picked him up, snagged her water bottle, and joined Michael at the car.
The third showing was Saturday night. Everyone expected Rags to steal the show again in one way or another; however, he didn’t do anything outlandish and he took the envelope from the basket and delivered it offstage just as it was scripted. While the audience seemed to enjoy the performance, it didn’t get quite the enthusiastic response as did Rags’s more spontaneous episodes.
After the show Savannah gave their friends’ ten-year-old foster child, Simon, a backstage tour. Rochelle, Margaret, Iris, and Craig tagged along. Not wanting to be left behind, Lily caught up with the group, dragging Gladys along with her, and Michael was close behind holding Teddy by the hand.
“Where are the other kitties?” Lily asked, looking around.
“I think they went home,” Savannah explained.
“Can I walk Rags?” Simon asked.
“Sure,” Savannah said. “Just don’t let go of the leash, okay?”
“I know,” he said.
Minutes later, Simon ran to Savannah carrying Rags.
“What’s wrong?” Rochelle asked when she saw the look on the boy’s face.
Simon spoke excitedly. “I think Rags found something!”
“What now?” Michael asked, reluctantly following along after the others with Teddy in his arms.
“What’s up?” Craig asked when he saw the men, the boy, and the cat looking around on the floor.
“I don’t know,” Michael complained. “Simon thinks Rags found a treasure or something.”
“I didn’t say it was a treasure,” Simon said, “but it’s sure something he’s interested in.”
“Well, let’s check it out,” Craig suggested.
“It’s nothing,” Savannah carped. “He keeps taking us to that spot, but there’s nothing there. I’m pretty sure he smells the lingering aroma of someone’s hamburger or tuna sandwich.”
“Hey, this is Rags you’re talking about,” Craig huffed. “He’s not some cat off the street that would bother people just for the scent of a hamburger.”
“You don’t think so, huh, Craig?” Savannah teased.
Ignoring her, Craig said, “What is it, Rags, buddy? What do you see here?”
“Will you look at that?” Iris said, pointing. “My husband is down on his knees with the cat. Hey Craig, how are you ever going to get up from there?”
“They have stagehands,” he retorted, “in case I get stuck. I’m telling you all, I think the cat is trying to show us something.” Craig glanced around at the cat’s eye level. He felt under the curtain panel on the floor. “No trap door.” He took the velvet panel in his hands. “Hey,” he said, “it’s heavy, like something’s in here.”
“Yeah, they’re weighted,” Seth said from a short distance away while he helped another stagehand disassemble a prop. “There are weights in there to make them hang like they’re supposed to.”
When Rags pawed at the curtain panel again, Craig ran his hand over the piece of fabric. He pinched and squeezed and massaged the panel, finally determining, “Something besides those weights is sewn into the hem of this one.”
“Probably the warranty or something,” Iris suggested.
“Or someone’s script,” Gladys said.
Craig looked up at the men. “Anyone got a knife?”
“Craig,” Iris scolded, “you can’t cut up that curtain. What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that my partner here has found something that we need to pay attention to.”
Savannah kneeled next to Craig and felt the curtain hem. “Craig,” she said, wide-eyed
, “we’re looking for some cash and checks and maybe bank statements that have gone missing. Do you suppose that’s what this is?”
He faced her. “Really? Who does it belong to?”
“The production organization. It’s the donations that have been coming in to help the neglected cats.”
“No kidding?” Craig asked again, “Who has a knife?”
Seth came forward with a box cutter. “Go easy. Someone will have to repair that.”
“Sure,” Craig said. He looked at Savannah. “Take the cat, will you? I don’t want to cut him.”
Seconds later, Seth asked, “What is it?”
“You’re right, Savannah, it’s money and checks. Shazam!” Craig shouted. “Look at all those zeros.”
“Arthur!” Savannah called when she saw him enter the theater.
“What?” he said. “I came back to get Pearl’s scarf. She left her scarf. What are you all doing up there, anyway?”
“They found a bunch of money!” Seth called out to him.
“What?” Arthur shouted. He ran, practically missing the stage steps, to reach the others. When he looked down at what Craig had pulled out of the curtain hem, he said, “Right under our noses.” He looked more closely. “Is that…?”
“It appears to be the missing donations,” Savannah said.
Arthur shook his head slowly. “No wonder the authorities couldn’t find it. Wow!”
“So do you know who put this in here?” Craig asked.
“I think we know who did it,” Arthur said. “She’s on the lam as we speak, and I’m pretty sure now we know where they can catch her—she’ll be coming back here.” Arthur asked, “Craig, how in the world did you find it?”
Savannah ran her hand over Rags’s fur and smiled. “He found it.”
“Rags?” Arthur asked, disbelieving.
“He’s been interested in that area since Friday night,” Savannah said. “Now I know why.”
Craig strained to stand up, grunting, “Hey, that’s my partner.”
“Need help?” Arthur asked, offering his hand.
Craig glanced briefly at Iris. “Naw, I think I got it.” Once on his feet, he rubbed his hands together and asked, “So Arthur, you’re looking for the person who had these things in her possession?”
“Yes. She, and probably some of the donation money, has disappeared. She has a ticket to Greece and is leaving tomorrow, so we’d sure like to find her. I guess Sergeant Patterson will have someone at the airport if she doesn’t turn up here before her flight time.”
“Pat Patterson?” Craig asked.
“Uh…yeah, I think that’s his name—red-headed guy, round face, about fifty-five.”
“That’s him,” Craig said. “Arthur, do you mind if I contact him?”
“Certainly, Craig. We can use all the help we can get. The cats are counting on us.”
****
“A stakeout?” Iris questioned a little later while everyone sat around in Arthur’s and Suzette’s living room. “You’ve come to San Francisco for a cultural experience in the theater district and you’re going on a stakeout?”
Craig grinned at her. “Yeah. For the cats.”
“For the cats or for the thrill?” Savannah teased.
“I like cats,” Craig insisted.
Savannah patted Craig’s shoulder. “I know you do. You’re a huge cat person.”
“You won’t be making fun of me when we get all that money back for the cats,” he cranked.
“No we won’t,” Rochelle said. “We’ll all be praising you, Craig.”
Iris smiled and said, “Rochelle, I hear you have cats now.”
“Well, I’ve had cats most of my life, but yes,” she clasped her hands together, “we have the most adorable kittens. I just love them.”
Simon overheard the conversation, moved closer, and joined in. “They’re really cool cats.”
“Got pictures?” Margaret asked. “I’ll bet they’ve grown.”
“A lot!” Simon said. “Can I show Aunt Maggie a picture of Blossom and Minnie on your phone?”
“Sure,” Rochelle said, handing it to him.
The women took turns mooning over the beautiful kittens, which made Simon happy.
“Looks like you’re taking real good care of them,” Margaret said, smiling.
Simon nodded.
“How do the cats like the parrots?” Savannah asked. “And vice versa?”
Rochelle said, “Surprisingly, they don’t seem to have any animosity toward each other. The birds were hesitant and suspicious of the kittens at first, but now they seem to be quite comfortable with one another.”
Peter chuckled. “I think the birds believe the cats are birds and the cats think the birds are cats.”
“Nice that there’s no discrimination going on there,” Iris said.
“See you all later,” Craig called out, slipping into his jacket.
“Are you going, Michael?” Savannah asked.
“No, but Craig would like to take Rags. What do you think?”
“Well, I guess so,” Savannah said. She stood up. “Let me put him in his harness.” She handed the leash to the detective. “Now Craig…”
“I know. I know,” he said. “You don’t have to tell me twice. I’ve been with him too many times when he’s bamboozled someone. I’ve got his number,” he insisted. As Craig reached into his pocket for something, Rags leaped onto the back of the sofa and yanked the leash from Craig’s grip. “Oops,” he said, looking sheepish. He glanced at Savannah, who was grinning. “Not my fault,” he said, chasing after the cat.
“It’s never the handler’s fault,” Savannah said, “which is why you have to be super alert with him.”
“You know what?” Craig said, “Why don’t you go with us. You’re better at managing this cat—just in case.”
“Okay.” She faced Michael. “Okay with you, hon?”
Caught off guard, he stammered, “Oh…um…well, I guess so. Be careful.”
“Hey, I’m just the cat handler,” Savannah quipped.
****
“So do you think she’ll show up with all of us waiting for her?” Savannah asked once they’d arrived at the theater. When Arthur drove past the theater, she said, “Hey, where are you going?” “The sergeant suggested we go in the back way,” Arthur explained.
“So the police are here already?” she asked. “I don’t see anyone.”
Craig chuckled. “That’s the point of a stakeout. You want to catch the suspect unaware.”
Arthur nodded. “They had people watching for Carol while they set up the cameras. She hasn’t made her appearance yet.”
“Now be quiet,” Craig suggested. “She or someone she may have sent could be lurking around. We need to act like we’re coming back to pick up something, so be nonchalant.”
Once they were inside, Craig asked, “Savannah, where’s dressing room three? We’re supposed to meet Patterson there.”
“I’ll show you,” she said, leading the way. When they reached the dressing room, they found it empty. Savannah looked around. “I guess we beat him here.”
She and Arthur jumped when they heard a voice come from the direction of a small closet.
“Rags knew he was there,” Craig whispered. “Did you see him sneaking up on Pat?” “Hi, cat,” the sergeant said, joining the others. He looked at Craig. “You brought a cat because?”
“He’s the one who found the checks,” Craig explained. “He’s good at stakeouts. You’ll see.”
“Yeah, I saw him in the play this afternoon,” the sergeant said. “Brought my kids to see the cats. They sure got a kick out of this one. What’s his name?”
“Rags,” Savannah said.
“That’s right. They got his autograph.” Sergeant Patterson looked at Craig. “So you put those checks back in the curtain hem?”
Craig shook his head. “A decoy.”
“Well, let’s see what’s going on, shall we?” the sergeant said,
adjusting a small camera screen. “That’s the area, right?”
Savannah nodded. “That camera has a wide vision, doesn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“It doesn’t have sound, does it?” Craig asked quietly.
“Only if I want it to. I just turned on the sound at that end. They won’t be able to hear us, but we can hear them. Wait,” the sergeant said. “I think someone’s coming. Hear that?”
“Yes,” Savannah said.
“Now I hear it,” Arthur confirmed. “Hey, that’s Buzz. What’s he doing here? Oh, he must have left something behind.”
“Yeah, his girlfriend,” Savannah snarked.
Arthur looked at her and said nothing.
“Carol,” Buzz called softly. “Carol, is that you? Hey, it’s okay. I’m not here to cause you any trouble. I just want to talk to you.”
“No. You’re not going to cause me any trouble; I can pretty much guarantee that,” she said, revealing a gun.
“Carol!” Buzz hissed. “What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing? I’m finally going to get what I want. All I do is volunteer and get pats on the back. ‘Atta girl, Carol.’ ‘Good job, Carol.’ ‘Couldn’t do it without you, Carol,’ but those things don’t pay the bills or buy nice things.”
“Carol, if you needed money…” Buzz started.
“Oh, give me a break. Go begging? Me? I don’t think so. That’s not my style.”
“But embezzling is?” Buzz asked.
“Stop!” she shouted. “Don’t use words like that with me. I’m no criminal. I’m just finally getting what I deserve.”
Meanwhile, in dressing room three Craig suggested, “I think we’d better make an appearance, don’t you, Pat?”
Sergeant Patterson nodded. “Let’s do it.”
Craig reached toward Savannah. “Want to give me the cat?”
“Why?” the sergeant asked.
“You’ll see.” The detective grasped the leash and nodded toward the door. “Come on.”
By the time the men and the cat had made their way to the stage, Carol had cut into the curtain and snagged the bait Craig had left for her. She started to turn and leave, but Buzz begged, “Don’t do it.”
