by Patricia Fry
Gladys shrugged and began clearing dishes from the table. Once the dishes were done and the children bathed and dressed, Savannah remembered Craig’s request. I’d better call him back, she thought. He answered right away. “Hi, Craig. It looks like I can get away after all.”
“Good. Is your cat up to traveling?”
“I think so. He’s sure active around here. Animals can adapt, I think, better than we humans can. So when do you want to leave? We won’t be gone for more than a day or two, will we?”
“That’s the plan, Savannah. Can you get away Monday morning? Say, around nine? I have a few loose ends I want to tie up around here this weekend.”
Savannah thinned her lips before saying, “Yeah, I’ll make it work.” She looked up at Michael as he walked into the room with Teddy, smiled weakly, and ended the call.
“You’ll make what work, hon?” Michael asked.
She took a deep breath. “Let’s talk about it later. I want to spend some time with Peaches.” She called out, “Lily, want to go see Peaches with Mommy?” She chuckled when the toddler ran into the room and struggled to open the refrigerator door.
“Carrot, Mommy,” Lily chirped. “Apple?”
“You want to feed Peaches, do you?”
Lily stepped back from the refrigerator and nodded while Savannah opened the door. She pulled out the produce drawer and Lily chose an apple and a carrot.
Savannah smiled. “Peaches is going to love her treats, punkin. Come on, let’s go give Peaches her treats and show her a little love, shall we?”
****
Later that afternoon Savannah had just finished packaging the last of the orchard fruit for the freezer when the doorbell rang. She glanced at the clock. Two o’clock. Sharon seems to be prompt. I like that. By the time Savannah arrived at the front door, Gladys had opened it and invited Sharon in. “Hi,” Savannah greeted. She noticed that Sharon carried a camera with a flash attachment and a diffuser. She remarked, “You mean business with your photography, don’t you?”
Sharon glanced at her camera. “Well, I figured we’d be shooting inside and I wasn’t sure about the lighting situation, so I came prepared.”
Savannah smiled. “Yes you did. Well, come on in.” She led Sharon into the living room. “Just put your things anywhere.” As Sharon placed her handbag on the floor next to the overstuffed chair, Savannah studied her equipment. “Nice camera. Makes me want to dig mine out and dust it off.”
“Do you shoot?” Sharon asked.
“I love photography. I shoot mostly portraits of our kids, of course, but I also like getting out and photographing scenery and wildlife.”
“Versatile, huh?”
“I guess I am. How about you?”
“I do mostly journalistic shooting. I worked for a newspaper for several years and I guess you’d say my expertise is capturing the mood and the emotion in a story. I like to tell a story through my photography.” She admitted, “I don’t do much animal photography, so I might need a few pointers.” She glanced around the house. “Where is your cat? Can I see his stash? Do you think he would cooperate for a few staged photos or maybe we can catch him in the act of—you know, stealing something.”
“Well, get ready,” Savannah said. She motioned with her head. “Looks like he’s about to commit a crime right before your lens.”
“Huh?” Sharon stepped back and saw Rags walking toward her, his eyes keenly focused on her purse. “Great,” she whispered, preparing her camera for the capture. As Rags moved closer, Sharon positioned herself appropriately and took a few shots. When he pushed his face into the large leather bag and came out with something in his mouth, Sharon began to laugh. “He really is a klepto, isn’t he?”
“Indeed he is,” Savannah said, picking up the cat. “Is that a candy bar?” She asked, taking it from Rags’s mouth. She read the label. “Dark chocolate.”
Sharon chuckled. “Yes, showing his good taste, isn’t he?” She then suggested, “Hey, let him go. I’d like to get a few more shots of him in the act.” Once she’d photographed him pulling a few more items from her purse, she shook her head. “He’s hilarious.”
“He’s nosey,” Savannah said, lifting Rags away from the purse again. “Oops,” she said, watching as something fluttered to the floor. She leaned over and started to pick it up.
“I’ve got it,” Sharon said, making a dive for it.
“Oh, it’s one of your photographs,” Savannah said, smiling. However, as Sharon snatched it up, Savannah’s smile faded. “Is that…?” she started.
“It’s nothing,” Sharon said, quickly stuffing it into a side pocket in her purse.
Savannah stared at the purse, then gazed at Sharon. “It looked like…”
“It was just a practice shot I took,” Sharon said with a dismissive wave. She quickly composed herself, smiled, and asked, “Want to show me Rags’s booty?”
“Oh, his stash?” Savannah said, lowering the cat to the floor. She glanced back at the purse, then led Sharon toward the staircase. “Come on, Rags,” she called. “Show us what you’ve been stealing, lately.”
“Oh, this is great,” Sharon said as she photographed Rags posing next to items from his stash. She snapped a photo of him staring at the camera with a used teabag dangling from his mouth. She laughed. “I love that one.” Then she staged a shot with him surrounded by some of the kids’ toys. After a while, she looked around the room and asked, “Is there any place else where he stashes things?” She grinned. “There must be some neat hiding places in this vintage house.”
Savannah lowered her brow in thought and shook her head. “No. Not really. Although Rags used to sneak out now and then, we’re pretty sure we’ve found and sealed off all of his escape routes.” She smiled. “But that’s a different story. No, there don’t seem to be any other hiding places in the house. However, Rags doesn’t bring everything he finds up here to his stash.” When Sharon seemed interested, Savannah explained, “We might find a random shoelace from one of Lily’s shoes in our bed, or a pacifier in the toilet, or…” she paused while waiting for Sharon to stop laughing. She chuckled. “I sometimes find his toys or the baby’s toys in one of the laundry hampers.” She glared jokingly at Rags. “Ever since my best watch went through the washer and dryer, I examine the hamper contents pretty carefully.”
Sharon burst out laughing again. She ran her hand along Rags’s back. “He’s unique, or is he? I don’t know cats all that well yet. I assume this isn’t normal behavior for a cat, is it?”
“No. Some cats will carry a toy around in their mouth and maybe drop it at his owners’ feet. But Rags is like a cat hoarder—a thief and a hoarder. He’ll bring something to me occasionally from his stash. I’m not sure what that means—what his intentions are.” She became more serious. “But sometimes what he brings to me is important. He’s even been known to reveal clues to a mystery, such as a crime or a case of a missing person, by the item he brings me.”
“Really?” Sharon said, wide-eyed. “And that’s how he solves crimes, is it?”
“Sometimes, yes.” When Savannah noticed Sharon staring down at Rags as he sniffed around in his stash box, she asked, “Do you have enough shots? Want to do the interview part now?”
“Oh, yes. I imagine you have a busy afternoon planned. Let me ask a few questions and I’ll be on my way. Shall we just sit in here?” Once the women were perched on the bed, Sharon looked into Savannah’s eyes. “So you’re not aware of any hidden panels or secret hiding places in this old house?”
Savannah tilted her head. “No. Why?”
“Oh…um…well, I just thought maybe Rags had—you know, other places where he hides things, that’s all.” She looked at Savannah. “And what we saw in his stash is pretty much representative of what he typically takes?”
Savannah nodded.
Sharon made a note on her pad, then asked, “You said he once hid your watch in the laundry hamper. Or was that one o
f the children?”
“At the time, our daughter was too small to have done it, so I’m sure it was Rags.”
“Has he taken any of your jewelry since?”
“Oh yes,” Savannah said. “I have to keep my jewelry box closed and our checkbook and cash under lock and key. And I no longer leave my watch on the bedside table overnight.” She chuckled. “Rags has retrained us all. Even Lily, our two-year-old, is learning to put her favorite toys away.”
“What about guests?” Sharon asked. “Does he often attack women’s purses like he did mine?”
“Oh yes,” Savannah admitted, “and guys’ pockets.”
“He doesn’t go outside, does he?” Sharon asked. She then said, “Oh, you told me he used to sneak out. Did he ever steal from your neighbors?”
“He used to be allowed to go outside by himself, but we don’t feel it’s safe out here—too many predators. But yes, he has taken things from neighbors in the past.”
Sharon smiled mischievously. “What’s the most unusual thing he’s taken?”
Savannah giggled. “Well, the most embarrassing was when the filming crew was here to film his documentary and Rags showed up with one of my bras.”
Sharon burst out laughing. “Oh my goodness! He is a rascal.” She looked at her notes. “What sort of things has he brought you that led to solving a crime or a missing persons case?”
Savannah thought for a moment and said rather somberly, “Once, he brought me a business card with the address of where my friend Colbi was being held hostage. She was doing a piece on cat hoarders and we suspect she got too close to the truth and a hoarder kidnapped her to convince her not to proceed with the article. Well, when I saw that business card, I suddenly remembered visiting the place and how ugly those people had behaved. Thank heavens I acted on it and…” She took a deep breath. “Well, in that case, Rags saved Colbi’s life.”
Sharon was speechless for a moment, then she asked, “Can I get a picture of you with Rags?” She looked around. “Hey, where’d he go?”
“Probably back downstairs,” Savannah suggested, leading the way out of the room and down the staircase. “Oh no,” she cried as she entered the living room.
When Sharon saw the mess around her purse, she let out a yelp and rushed to assess the damage. “That damn…” she caught herself. “I mean, dammit. I shouldn’t have left my purse there, should I?”
Looking sheepish, Savannah said, “I’m sorry. I usually suggest that guests put their purses up on that shelf, out of his reach.” She joined Sharon, who was frantically snatching up photographs, a coin purse, a set of keys, and other items and stuffing them back into her purse. “Let me help,” Savannah offered.
“No,” Sharon said, sharply. “I’ve got it. Thanks, anyway.”
Savannah looked around the room and asked, “Did he get away with anything?”
“Oh…um…I don’t know. I didn’t consider that.” She pored through her purse and said, “My keys are here, my wallet…I don’t see that anything’s missing.”
“Well, if we find anything…” Savannah said.
Sharon stood up and stared at Savannah.
Just then the baby started fussing. Savannah walked to the infant rocker swing and picked him up. “Oh, stinky drawers,” she said. “If you don’t mind, Sharon, I’d like to change him. I’ll be right back.”
“Oh…um…well,” Sharon stuttered, “I’d like to go look in the cat’s stash to make sure he didn’t abscond with anything, if that’s okay with you.”
“Sure.”
When Savannah returned to the living room with Teddy, Sharon had picked up her purse and was headed toward the front door. Gladys stood at the bottom of the stairs watching her.
“Did you want to get that picture of Rags and me?” Savannah asked.
“Um…no. I think I’ve got what I need. Thank you.”
“Okay, let me know when the story goes live. I’d like to read it,” Savannah said.
“Um…yeah…sure will,” Sharon stuttered. She glanced at Gladys, then Savannah. “Thank you for the story. See you later.”
“Bye,” Savannah called from the front door as she watched Sharon walk swiftly toward her car. Savannah closed the door, turned, and addressed her mother. “Have a good nap?”
“Yeah,” Gladys said off-handedly. She then frowned and asked, “What’s her deal?”
“Huh?” Savannah sat down and began nursing Teddy. “What do you mean? She came here to interview me and Rags. You knew that.”
“Hmmm,” Gladys murmured as she perched on the ottoman across from Savannah.
“What does that mean?” Savannah asked.
“Well, she was snooping around upstairs just now.”
Savannah laughed. “Yeah, I know. Rags got into her purse and she went up to see if he took anything to his stash. I told her she could do that. I was changing Teddy’s poopy pants.”
Gladys tilted her head inquisitively. “Isn’t his stash in the closet in Adam’s old room?”
“Yes.”
“Well, she was down at the other end of the hall looking around.”
“Maybe she had to use the restroom.”
Gladys squinted. “I don’t think so. When I stepped out of my room, I saw her taking pictures of the wall.”
“The wall?” Savannah questioned. “With the camera?”
“No, her phone. Why would she take pictures of the wall if she was doing a story on Rags?”
“Heck, I don’t know.” Savannah smiled down at Teddy, then asked. “What part of the wall? Was she photographing a painting or something?”
“No,” Gladys said. “It was where Michael did that repair just before we left for Colorado. I think he said the plug outlet had burned out or something.”
Savannah nodded. “Oh yes. He had to go into the wall to fix that problem. He didn’t have time to finish it the way he wanted, so he nailed that piece of plywood there temporarily. I think he’s going to replace that with drywall this weekend.” Savannah chuckled. “I guess Sharon thought that might be another one of Rags’s stashes.”
“Oh, maybe so, then,” Gladys said. She stood. “I hear the princess. I guess naptime’s over.”
“Yup. It seems so.”
Gladys stopped before leaving the room. “I’m glad to know there’s a logical explanation for your friend’s actions, Vannie. I really like her, but I was kind of suspicious there for a minute.”
Chapter 3
“You’re going where? To do what?” Michael practically shouted that evening after dinner.
“Craig wants my help with a case. Mine and Rags’s.” When she saw the look on his face, she said, “It’s important, Michael, and I’ll only be gone for two nights at the most.” When she saw him staring curiously at her, she asked, “What?”
“I’m just wondering if I’d have been so attracted to you if you were a policewoman or a detective or a crime investigator.”
After a few moments, she asked, “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Would you have been attracted to me if I were in police work?”
Michael looked sternly at her, then began to chuckle. He pulled her to him, “Of course.” He kissed her, then held her and whispered in her ear, “I’d be attracted even if you…”
“Never mind,” she said, breaking away from his embrace.
He took her hand. “Is this something you really want to do?”
“Well, yeah. Why would you ask that?”
“Oh, sometimes it seems that Craig calls the shots and you go along with him rather than assert yourself.”
“Is that what you think?” she asked, taking offense. When he didn’t respond, she said, “Yes, I’d sure like to be in on the big discovery and Craig seems confident that he’s onto something.”
Michael was quiet for a moment, then said, “If that crooked Colorado detective had the jewels, why did he continue to harass you? It still appears to m
e that he was bamboozled—that someone beat him to the jewels and he thought it was you who cheated him out of the treasure.”
“Craig thinks that was his way of attempting to clear himself—you know, so people wouldn’t look at him as a suspect. They can’t prove who killed the cop they found in the burned-out house, so all he’ll be charged with is harassment, maybe kidnapping—you know, holding Holly and me hostage. I guess it’s possible that he could get off without serving a full sentence, and if he actually has the jewelry, he’d be able to live the rest of his life in luxury.”
Michael thought about that for a moment. “Seems like quite a sacrifice. I’d think that if he had the stuff, he would have left town as quietly as he could and live under the radar in another country. That’s what I’d do, if I had a lot of priceless jewelry.”
“And that’s why there are so many people in our jails and prisons, Michael—because they don’t think logically. They aren’t very smart. And they let their greed lead rather than their common sense—if they even have any common sense.”
He pulled back and squinted at her. “A police psychiatrist.”
“Huh?”
“You could be a police psychiatrist, the way you try to get inside the criminal mind.”
“I find it all very interesting,” she said. She looked at him. “So are you at least kinda-sorta okay with me going?”
“I guess so, Savannah.” He sat up. “If it were anyone but Craig, I’m afraid I’d…”
“I know, hon. I appreciate that and so does Craig, I’m sure. Anyway, it sounds like an easy in-and-out mission. I mean, we’ll go to the guy’s place, let Rags snoop around, and probably find what we’re looking for, then leave. No fuss, no muss.”
“When are you going?” Gladys asked when she stepped into the room.
“Monday morning around nine. I’ll get the kids up and going, feed Teddy and the animals, and fix our breakfast. You can sleep in if you want to, Mom. I’ll make sure plenty of fresh bottles are in the fridge for Teddy.”
