by Patricia Fry
“A nose for dirt?” Michael repeated.
“Yes, she opened every cabinet and closet...”
“She cleans cupboards?” Gladys asked.
“I guess she cleans everything. But now I’ll have to look for someone else.” Suddenly, she called out, “No, Beth-Beth. Put Sammy-kitty down. He doesn’t want to talk to Rags and Buffy.”
Michael and Savannah laughed. When Rags joined them on the sofa, Michael aimed the phone at him, saying, “Look who came to say hello.”
“Hi, old boy.” Keith said. “Hey, what’s that on his leg?”
“Didn’t Savannah tell you he broke his leg?” Michael asked.
“I forgot to tell him,” Holly admitted.
Cassie moved closer. “I want to see Rags’s leg.”
“Me too,” Bethany said, both of them scrambling to look at the screen.
“Poor Rags,” Cassie said. “Does it hurt?”
“Doesn’t seem to,” Savannah assured her. “He does just about everything he normally does.”
“Fancy cast,” Keith said, laughing.
“Well, he’s a celebrity,” Holly reminded him.
“Yeah, a California celebrity. They can be rather eccentric and weird, that’s for sure.” Keith laughed. “Hey Savannah, when you become a published author will you get all weirded out like that?”
“Like what?” she asked.
“Like those other odd celebrities who live there in California.”
“They don’t live in Hammond,” she said matter-of-factly. She then asked, “Hey, when are you coming to visit?”
“Yeah, when, Mom?” Cassie asked.
“I wanna go see Aunt Savannah and Lily and Adam and…” Bethany complained.
“I know you do, honey, and we will,” Holly promised. “But school just started, so we’d better wait a while, okay? Maybe during winter break.”
“Yay,” Cassie said.
“Yay,” Bethany shouted. “How many days, Mommy?”
Just then, Keith spoke up. “Hey, we’d better start getting the girls ready for bed. It’s been cool seeing you all.”
“Yeah,” Michael said. “Holly, next time would you clean the house before calling?”
“Funny, Michael,” she snarked.
After the families ended the call Gladys said, “That was fun.” She shook her head. “I remember when people used to say, ‘Someday we’re going to be able to see the person we’re talking to on the phone.’ My friends and I would laugh and say, ‘You wouldn’t want to answer the phone in your underwear.’ Or ‘Does that mean you have to comb your hair every time the phone rings?’ It seemed so futuristic—the idea of seeing who you’re talking to on the phone.” She shook her head in wonderment. “And here we are doing it.”
Michael laughed. “Yes, Gladys, here we are in the future. It is rather amazing, isn’t it?”
“Sure is.” She looked at Teddy in Savannah’s arms. “Just think what it will be like for him and his generation.” She laughed. “I mean, already there are driverless cars, cars that park themselves, robot vacuum cleaners, phones and computers that will do just about anything.” She raised her eyebrows and spoke more excitedly. “Just the other day I saw a real estate agent on the news using a robot to show a house. If I understood it correctly, she was sitting in her office using a remote mechanism to control the robot, which was in the house showing it to her clients, answering their questions, and everything. When she finished with those clients, she could make a call from her office to another robot and show a new client through a house clear across town.”
“Is that right?” Michael asked with interest.
“Yes, and you could see the agent’s face on a computer screen attached to the robot. It was…well, too futuristic for me.”
Savannah chuckled, then she asked, “Mom, did you say you’re going someplace tomorrow?”
“Yes, at one thirty.” She brightened. “I’m meeting a couple of gals from the book club. Sharon’s joining us.”
Savannah frowned. “Do you mean the new Sharon—Sharon Summers?”
“Yes. She seemed pretty interested. She’s a writer, you know.”
Savannah nodded. “Hmmm,” she said. She stood up with the baby in her arms and headed toward the hallway, crooning, “Let’s go change you and put your jammies on, okay?”
Michael smiled after his wife and son, then said to Lily, “Want to put on your jammies? How about if Daddy helps you with your jammies tonight?”
“Elsa,” the toddler said, running toward her bedroom.
“You want to wear your Elsa jammies?”
“Ohhh,” Gladys moaned. When Michael looked at her, she winced. “I think they’re in the laundry.” She addressed Lily. “You can wear them tomorrow night. We’ll wash them in the morning.”
“No!” Lily screeched, throwing herself on the floor.
“Whoa,” Michael said. He stopped and looked down at his daughter.
“Your phone’s ringing, Vannie,” Gladys called.
Savannah peered out from the master bedroom doorway. “Answer it for me, would you, Mom? I’ll be right there.”
“It’s Craig,” Gladys said when Savannah returned to the living room. Gladys smiled and handed her the phone. “He’s such a nice man.”
Savannah winked at her mother. “Been chatting, have you?”
Gladys blushed and took Teddy from her.
“Hi, Craig,” Savannah said into the phone. “Sorry it took me a few minutes to get here. This is a busy time of night when you have little ones.”
“Not a problem, I always enjoy talking to your charming mother.”
Savannah grinned at Gladys, then said into the phone, “So what’s going on in your world this evening? Hey, weren’t you and Iris going to dinner at Colbi’s and Damon’s?”
“Yes. It was delicious. She’s a good cook. We had lasagna and ice cream with raspberries.” Before Savannah could respond, Craig coughed and cleared his throat. “I have a proposition.”
She hesitated, then said, “A proposition? Should I sit down for this?”
“You might want to, actually.”
“Uh-oh. What?”
“Well, it’s good news—or it could be good news. We found out that Milner has a place not too far from here. I’m beginning to wonder if he actually did take the jewels and either delivered them or had them shipped to someone he could trust out here. I have a hunch that we might find what we’re looking for on his California property.”
Savannah was quiet for a moment, then she asked, “So if he has the jewelry, why did he continue to harass and threaten Holly and me? It doesn’t make sense, does it? Wouldn’t you think he’d hightail it out of Colorado, which I guess he did, and stay as far away from Holly and me as he could? He’d hide out, wouldn’t he?”
Craig was silent for a few moments, then he said, “He’s been in the crime business for a long time, Savannah, and he knows a whole lot of the angles. The fact that he continued to threaten you and Holly could have been an act to take the focus off himself as the thief and, perhaps, put it on you gals.”
After thinking about the detective’s theory, Savannah said, “Doesn’t make sense, Craig. All he seemed to accomplish was to put nails into his own coffin.”
“It would seem so, wouldn’t it? But there’s no evidence that he’s the one who killed the officer. My guess is that he figures the crimes he’s charged with won’t detain him for too long. If he bides his time, he’ll be out soon enough to enjoy his take, if, indeed, he did take the stuff. And if he did, I want to be there before he can get his grubby hands on it.”
“So how did you find out about this property?”
Craig hesitated, then said, “Secret of the trade, Savannah. But since I’m suggesting that you and your cat partner with me in a search for the loot, maybe I should let you in on the secret.”
“Huh?” she replied. “Rags and me? Partners? What are you talking abo
ut?”
“Well, it’s like this, Savannah, I want to go out to his place and snoop around, but I’d like a cover and a couple of partners who might be able to slip in under the radar, if you know what I mean.” When Savannah didn’t respond, Craig asked, “Are you there?”
“Um...Rags is wearing a cast, you know.”
“Yeah. How’s he doing?”
“He’s doing fine. Gets around well, but I don’t know about taking him on—you know, an adventure. Besides, he’s expecting a guest.”
“Rags is? A cat guest? When?”
“Next week, actually.”
“Oh.” He sighed. “So could we take him for a couple of days? How long is the guest cat going to be there?”
“I’m not sure—maybe a few weeks. Maybe several. When are you thinking about taking this trip?”
“Sooner rather than later, actually. Like, say, Monday. What do you think?”
“First tell me what it would entail.”
Craig hesitated, then said, “I can’t exactly say. But I can tell you what I want to accomplish. I’d like to go on a treasure hunt on his property to see if we can uncover any of that jewelry, and I’m pretty sure your cat can help with the search. What do you say, Savannah?”
“Let me think about it. I’ll get back to you, okay?”
“Sure. I’ll talk to you later.”
****
Savannah answered the house phone Saturday morning and heard, “Hello. This is Sharon. How are you?”
“Good. How are you?” she asked, her mind still a bit fuzzy from a good night’s sleep.
“Great. Say, I was talking to your mom yesterday and she mentioned that your cat is a klepto. You didn’t tell me that.”
“Yes, he has been known to take things.” She chuckled. “Well, you saw him grab the stuffed cat from Ida at the meeting Thursday.”
“That’s right. And you told me he’d been filmed and all, but it didn’t occur to me to ask why he’s special. I’ve never met a klepto cat. I interviewed your aunt after visiting with your mom and her friends. She filled me in on some of the things your cat has done.”
“You really made the rounds yesterday,” Savannah said. “I thought you were interviewing Iris.”
“I did. We had a great visit in the morning.” Sharon chuckled. “Yes, it was a full and busy day.” She paused, then said, “I’d love to ask you a few questions about your cat and maybe see him in action. Would that be possible? I think that would make a great story.”
“Oh…um…I guess so. When?”
“Any time,” Sharon said. She asked eagerly, “Are you free later today?”
“Um…well…yeah. What time?”
“Say around two?”
“I think that’ll be okay. Do I have your cell number? I can text you if anything comes up.”
“Good idea,” Sharon agreed. She then asked, “Now the number I just called, that isn’t your cell phone, is it? I tried to text you and it didn’t work.”
“That’s right. Here, I’ll give you my cell number.”
Once the women had exchanged numbers, Sharon said, “Great. I’ll be there with my camera. Now I’ll want to see—what did Maggie call it—his stash. That fascinates me and I’m sure it will fascinate readers. Will that be possible?”
Savannah yawned, then apologized. “Excuse me. I guess I’m not quite awake yet. Yes, he’ll probably let us take a look at his stash. See you around two.”
Before Savannah could walk away, her cell phone chimed. She reached across the landline phone to where her cell was charging and picked it up. “Hi, Auntie. I just got off the phone with Sharon. She said she interviewed you yesterday.”
“Pshaw, Vannie, it wasn’t much of an interview.”
“Why would you say that?” Savannah asked.
“All she wanted to talk about was Rags.”
“What?”
“She seemed more interested in you and your cat than our shelter. I thought she wanted to feature a cat shelter. She said your mother told her about Rags’s thieving ways and she was so fascinated with his story that she barely even looked at our great facility and practically all of her questions focused on your cat.”
“Well, she’s coming over here this afternoon to learn the rest of Rags’s story, I guess. Do you know what magazine she’s writing this article for?”
“All I know is that she freelances. She wanted the shelter article for an online magazine. How Rags and you tie into that, I don’t know.”
“Me neither. Oh, Auntie, I have a call coming in from Bert. I’d better take it. Can I call you back?”
“No, don’t bother. That’s all I wanted to tell you.”
“Good, cause I need to fix breakfast. See you later.” As an afterthought, she said, “Come over this afternoon; you can probably add to the interview. Sharon will be here at two.”
“I might do that. Bye.”
Savannah took Bert’s call. “Hi there. How are you and cute Miss Lucy-kitty?”
“Great. Hey, Savannah, my sister had a setback with her surgery and they’re not going to do it until the week after next. So I won’t be coming out your way to help her until later in the month. Is that still okay? Can Lucy still stay with you and Rags?”
“Absolutely,” Savannah said. “Perfect. Yes, Rags should be practically healed by then. So even better. Let me know when to expect you.”
“Sure will.” Bert paused, then said, her voice strained, “Now to break the news to Lucy. I’m pretty sure she already has her little kitty bag packed with her favorite treats and toys.”
Savannah joked, “And Rags has probably been planning an exciting itinerary.” She laughed, then added, “Hugs to you and sweet Lucy.”
Nearly an hour later, the Ivey family and Gladys sat together at the breakfast table enjoying a favorite Saturday meal: scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits with Savannah’s homemade jam. Michael broke the silence. “What do you ladies have planned today?”
Savannah glanced at Gladys, then took the floor. “I want to take Peaches out this morning and either ride her around the ring or lunge her.”
“Do what to her?” Gladys asked.
“Exercise her from the ground—you know, you’ve seen me lunge her. I put her on a long line and she jogs around me in a circle.” Savannah sighed deeply. “I really should deal with the fruit Antonio picked this week. I guess I’ll freeze it for pies and cobblers. He brought in quite a load of apples and I think the last of the peaches.”
“Antonio’s been with you for a long time, hasn’t he?” Gladys asked.
Savannah nodded. “We inherited him from Auntie. He sort of came with the place when she sold it to us. I don’t know what we’d do without him and Helena. He keeps fresh organic fruits and veggies on our table and she keeps our table and other furniture clean.” She looked at Michael. “Rags and I have an interview with Sharon this afternoon.”
He chuckled. “Oh, Rags is being interviewed, is he? I hope he doesn’t report any fake news.”
Savannah smirked playfully at her husband. “Sharon wants to write something about his klepto habit.” She brightened. “I think opportunities like this will be useful in promoting Rags’s memoirs.”
“How are you coming with the book, Vannie?” Gladys asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I really don’t feel as though I’m making much progress. But when I look at how many pages I have and consider the stories I’ve already written, I guess I’m doing pretty well.” She bounced in her chair. “I sent a couple of chapters to Rob and he seems pleased with it so far.” She looked at Michael, then Gladys. “You two get to see it next.”
“When?” Michael asked excitedly. “I keep waiting.”
“Soon, I hope.” She abruptly changed the subject. “Michael, sometimes I think I’d like to get Peaches a companion. She’s alone out there so much. Do you think she gets bored or depressed?”
Michael frowned. “Anot
her horse?”
“Yeah, then you can ride with me. And we won’t have to trailer Peaches every time Bonnie and I or Adam and I want to ride.”
Michael spread apple butter on his biscuit, then asked, “How about a goat?”
“A goat?” she repeated. “You want to ride a goat?”
He laughed. “No. A goat to keep your mare company.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “A goat can be a lot of trouble. I’ve known goats that…” Before she could finish the sentence, her phone rang. She looked at the screen and frowned. “I don’t know this number.” She stared at it for a moment, then decided not to accept the call. “Why am I getting so many odd calls lately?” she asked, not expecting an answer.
“Have you signed up for anything recently?” Gladys asked. “My neighbor in Los Angeles began getting a lot of calls and we figured out it was because she had signed up for some free stuff at a gift show we attended one weekend. I signed up for a few things, but she filled out every application and questionnaire she could find.”
“A gift show?” Michael questioned.
“Yeah, you know where merchants and manufacturers exhibit their latest products. It was pretty interesting, actually. But I wasn’t happy with all of the resulting calls.”
Savannah thought for a moment. “I haven’t signed up for anything.”
“Maybe you’ve given your number to the wrong people,” Michael offered.
Savannah scowled. “Yeah, like that darned Detective Milner.” She shook her head. “If I’d only known he was a crook, I would never have…”
“Didn’t you put it on Cassie’s posters when Rags and Lucy went missing in Colorado?” Gladys asked.
Savannah looked at her and narrowed her eyes in thought. “Oh. Yes. Well, I didn’t. Holly and Cassie made up the poster.” She grimaced. “Wow, my number was on posts all over their neighborhood, wasn’t it? Do you suppose that’s where the calls are coming from? Do people collect numbers off of posters for the purpose of…of what?” She shook her head. “No. That doesn’t seem logical.”
