Oh, how I wanted to read those notes! I couldn’t repeat the same stunt of getting Keith’s attention and dragging him to the other room to ask a question. I just hoped someone would read them all out loud. Nobody did.
Apparently, though, Keith was thinking, because he sat forward and asked if he could take a picture of the notes with his phone to reference later.
Purrfect!
Eight
That night after everyone had headed to bed, I got Keith to show me the notes on his phone.
One dog was a Pomeranian named Tango, and the other a mutt named Bill. The notes also said where they had disappeared from. At my request Keith did some quick checking on his laptop and discovered Tango, Bill, and now about two months later, Hero—had all disappeared from the same area of town.
Around the same time of day.
I thought for a moment and began scribbling furiously. Keith, who had started dozing, cracked one eye open and looked a little annoyed.
“I know cats get all crazy and wild at night, but I don’t. I want to sleep,” he grumbled, taking my note all the same.
It’s pretty obvious these three dogs and probably the Clarys’ dog, too, were stolen by the same person. I want to go to that street and see if I can pick up any clues.
“Okay,” Keith said, “the keys are on the nightstand.”
I swatted him with a soft paw.
“I know, I know. You can’t drive even if you can read and write. Bet you could pass the written test, though.”
Man, this guy got positively loony when he was tired! The idea of me driving!
I just stared at him.
“Fine,” he said with a yawn, flopping back onto his pillow. “I’ll take you to town tomorrow. It’s not a bad idea anyhow.”
While lurking the moonlit guestroom, I prepared an excuse for Keith to use in the morning.
“I didn’t think about her maybe picking up fleas and ticks and stuff out here in the country. I’d better run into town and get a flea collar just to be on the safe side.”
After we’d eaten breakfast and he had (sort of) helped with the chores, Keith scooped me up and deposited me in the car. Ariana and Natalie stood on the front porch and waved as we headed down their long driveway.
The trip to town didn’t seem long even though it was a bit of a drive. I was busy thinking through every piece of the puzzle. And the look on Keith’s face told me he was too. Or else he was thinking about Ms. Thornblood. Hard to say which these days.
We had brought along some of Dillon’s lost dog posters, and Keith carried a few under his arm as we marched up to the first destination on our list. It was a barber shop, complete with a rotating striped pole outside.
Wow, that thing made me dizzy after a while. I loitered just outside the open door while Keith spoke with the barber.
“Would you mind if I put this poster in your window? My nephew’s dog is missing, and we’re all getting pretty worried.”
The barber brushed his hands off on his wide stomach and inspected the paper in Keith’s hand.
“Sure! Haven’t seen this dog, but I’ll call the number if I hear anything.”
Two older men who had been reading papers while they waited laughed at this. “That’ll be a good deal to tell. You hear everything, Bobby!”
The barber looked pleased with himself. “Comes with the territory.”
Keith expressed his thanks and went to tape the poster in the window.
A small breeze danced down the sidewalk, and I sniffed appreciatively.
What I didn’t expect was the strong smell of dog... coming from the open door of the barber shop! Did that barber know more than he was saying? I needed to do some more sniffing around.
I stepped quietly over the threshold and began. There was a faint, general dogginess to the air—but that could just mean someone in the room owned a dog. The really strong—and confusing—smells were coming from one particular empty chair.
I stood on my hind legs and propped my front paws on the edge of the seat to get a better look. I could hardly believe my eyes.
The upholstery of the chair was covered in dog hair. Black, silver, yellow, red. All in varying lengths.
“Hey! Cat! Out of here!” the barber shouted just at that moment.
I darted back out the door. Keith followed me shortly after.
“I thought you were gonna stay outside, Mia,” he said in an undertone once we were out on the sidewalk.
I had no way of explaining my actions or the suspicions forming in my mind after seeing all that dog hair. I had to wait until Keith finished visiting the other shops on the street.
That was excruciating. Too bad the scientists hadn’t been able to give me the ability to talk. I was dependent on pen and paper.
Finally, we got back in the car.
“Ready to go?” Keith asked, inserting his key into the ignition.
I shook my head emphatically.
“No? You didn’t see enough? We can’t just stay out until you find a clue, Mia. Ariana and Natalie are probably still on the porch waiting for us to get back.”
I cocked my head and stared at him.
“Oh. Right. You need paper.”
He found a scrap of paper in the glove compartment and handed me a pen. I hid in the footwell so no passersby would see me, and wrote my thoughts.
After a while, I emerged with a piece of paper that resembled Swiss cheese more than anything. Do you have any idea how hard it is to write on a carpeted surface? I poked the pen clear through the paper more times than I can count. It’s a wonder Keith was able to read it at all.
“You mean to tell me you had this idea back at the very first place we visited? Why didn’t you say—right. Sorry.”
I rolled my eyes.
He continued. “So you want me to go back in the barber shop and ask Bobby about the chair with dog hair all over it. See if he knows whose clothes are usually covered in dog hair?”
I nodded.
“You do realize how nuts that will make me sound?”
I looked away. It wasn’t as if I could do the talking, now was it?
Nine
Keith eased himself back into the car. “Aaannd—the beauty of asking that question of the barber is that soon the whole town will know about the crazy guy inquiring about dog hair.”
I snickered.
“Come on; grow up,” he protested half-heartedly. “Here’s what he said. And he said it just like this: ‘Him? Oh, the guy’s a little—you know—he’s got a few loose screws. Nice enough fellow, though. Comes into town about once a month, I think. Always gets a haircut. Very regular about it. The dog hair has always been a nuisance, though. Funny thing is, he never brings his dog in with him.’” Keith did a pretty good imitation of the barber. “Apparently he has customers who bring their dogs along when they come in. It’s definitely a man-gathering.”
Oh, so the guy was fine with dogs in his fine establishment, but not cats? Humph. That seemed a little inconsistent to me.
I went down in the footwell again and scribbled another note.
Interesting info about the guy. Especially that he visits town just once a month. I wonder if those visits would align with the dog-nappings if we dug deeper. I need you to go back and ask if he knows where this guy lives and what day he was last here.
Keith gave me his most incredulous look. “You want me to go back again? And—what?—you think we have a serial dog-napper here?”
I hurriedly wrote another note.
Come on. I’ll come too if that would make you feel any better. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get back to those patient little nieces of yours.
He groaned but got out of the car all the same.
“Back so soon?” asked the barber as Keith stepped through the door. I lingered just outside.
“Um... yeah. I had another question for you. I was wondering if you have any idea what day the guy with the dog hair was here last.”
Bobby frowned at
the hair he was cutting. “You sure are a nosy one.”
“It’s my job,” Keith said.
Bobby laughed. “Sure it is.”
“No, I’m being serious,” Keith told him, digging his wallet out of his pocket and showing him a card. “I’m a private investigator. A detective.”
Bobby tucked his comb behind his ear and inspected Keith’s card. “Guess it is your job after all. Why all this curiosity about a crazy man with dog hair on his clothes?” He moved over to the front desk and began clicking around on the ancient computer. “Oh, wait—you’re also looking for a missing dog. Are the two connected?”
Pretty good deduction. Maybe that guy should be a detective instead of a barber.
Keith nodded. “That’s what we’re wondering.”
We. He needed to watch himself, or he’d spill my secret.
Luckily the barber was preoccupied with what he’d found on the computer screen. “There,” he said, pointing, “was that the same day your nephew’s dog disappeared?”
“Yes! It is!” said Keith. “And the previous dates match up with other disappearances, as well. Thank you!” He hurried to the door, and then stopped. “Oh, and do you happen to know where this guy lives? We might want to pay him a visit.”
Bobby frowned. “Don’t know his address. All I know is he lives somewhere out past the Orchards. There are several nice properties out that way. It shouldn’t be too hard to find him.” He frowned and slapped his comb against his fingertips. “This feels like a breach of barber-patron confidentiality or something. Even if you are a detective.”
Keith assured him he’d been very helpful and that he might have just helped crack the case. The barber looked rather impressed. We hurried back to the car.
I was excited and ready to head out to the Orchards—whatever they were—to have a look around. Unfortunately Keith’s sister called to ask if we would be back for lunch and if we could pick up more ketchup for the burgers.
After she’d mentioned burgers, I knew there would be no getting Keith to go anywhere but back to the house. Well, other than to the store to get ketchup and a flea collar.
Sure enough! He told her we were on our way.
Ten
After we’d turned off the highway and onto the country road, Keith rolled down the windows. There was something delicious on the breeze, and I stood at the window and sniffed deeply as we rolled along. Cows with huge, dreamy-looking eyes stared at us as we passed their fields. I could get used to living out here, I decided. I’d have to ask Keith if he’d ever thought of moving to the country. Though, I supposed there wouldn’t be much work for a detective way out here.
All the delicious smells reminded me of the odd scent I’d encountered by the front door. I still couldn’t identify it and was beginning to suspect it was some animal we didn’t have in the city. Thinking about that, I remembered something in a flash—I’d also forgotten to let Ms. Thornblood know about the mouse smell I’d noticed near the cabinet in her bathroom. Mouse I could identify with great accuracy.
I glanced over at Keith. I could get him to text or call Ms. Thornblood and let her know about it. I wouldn’t have to ask twice—that I knew.
Back at the house, I found an opportunity to jot a note just before we sat down to lunch. “Sure! I can do that!” Keith told me, looking far more interested than he had about any of my other recent notes.
Yep. Just as I thought.
We headed out to eat lunch with the family. Keith was a bit more animated than usual as he told about our time in town—leaving out our conversations, of course. My secret made it necessary for him to take credit for everything I did, but—oh well. That was the way it had to be if I wanted to stay hidden from the scientists I’d escaped at the big city lab. I tried not to mind too much.
Dillon fairly glowed with hope. “So you think this guy with different kinds of dog hair on him took Hero and the other three dogs? I wonder why! I wonder what he wants them for!”
“I don’t know,” said Keith. “But I have a feeling this is going to be a breakthrough. I’m planning to see if I can find his place and talk to him. Maybe this afternoon.”
“Wow! You’re like Sherlock Holmes the way you noticed it wasn’t just one kind of dog hair on the chair,” Dillon said. The way he looked at his uncle fairly oozed respect.
“Thank you so much for helping us with this, Keith,” his sister said. “I know this is supposed to be a vacation for you, but we really do appreciate it.”
Okay, so this thing with him getting all the credit. It was getting harder not to mind. I sighed.
“Oh, and Keith,” his sister added, “there was a package for you in our mailbox. I left it on your bed.”
“Really?” He sounded surprised. “Who sent it?”
“The return address just said ‘Thornblood.’ It was addressed to Keith and Mia Thomson—isn’t that cute?”
“Oh, that would be a former client of mine—who is rather fond of my cat.”
I snorted and he shot me a look. Sure she was fond of me. But I happened to know it wasn’t just me she was fond of.
I was curious to know what she had sent. Something for both of us... what would that be? Maybe it was a package of goldfish! No, I had only discovered those on the way here. She couldn’t possibly know about that. Unless Keith had told her. I didn’t think he’d called or texted since we’d been here, though. Actually, the delight he showed at having an excuse to do so now proved it.
I headed to the guest room to sniff around the box.
Nope. Unfortunately, it didn’t smell like goldfish. What else could it be?
I sniffed along the edges of the top flaps, smelling cardboard, something plastic-y, a little ink, paper, and something very odd—faint, kind of dry, and almost non-existent. I couldn’t figure out what it was.
It had my name on it, too, so I figured I’d try to open it. My claws were pretty sharp; it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.
I began scratching at the top of the box. One paw—scratch! Then the other—scratch!
Ariana passed the open door on her way down the hall. She paused and peeked into the room.
I froze.
Caught trying to open a box.
“Uncle Keith!” she called. “Mia is scratching on the box you got in the mail. I think she’s sharpening her claws.”
I hunkered down on the bed and sniffed around the edges of the box again, feeling relieved that she hadn’t recognized my attempts at opening it. That would have been entirely too smart for the average housecat.
This secret-keeping was getting to be more difficult and more of a nuisance by the day! Maybe I was being overcautious. It had been a while since my escape. Maybe I could relax a little. It was food for thought, anyway.
Thanks to Ariana, Keith arrived in the guestroom a moment later and used his Swiss Army knife to finish the job of removing the tape.
He shook his head and teased me. “Silly impatient cat!”
Inside the box were a lot of funny white things. They were about twice the length of my paw and lumpy. They were made out of some weird substance. No wonder they had smelled almost non-existent.
I stuck my head in the box and sniffed at one. To my surprise, when I drew my head back—it came with me, clinging to my nose! I shook my head, swiped it with my paw, and sneezed. Now the little thing was stuck to my right front leg! I did a few contortions to get it off, including rolling on the bed. There. It was off.
But where had it gone? Somehow in the midst of getting it off my leg, I’d managed to lose track of it.
“Hey, Mia, you’ve got a packing peanut stuck to your back.”
Packing peanut? More like Packing Nuisance! Why had Ms. Thornblood sent us a box of these things? Was it some sort of cruel joke? No, she didn’t seem like the type.
Keith closed the guestroom door, picked the Packing Nuisance off my back, and tossed it back in the box. He held up a piece of floral stationery. “Here’s the note:
‘Dear
Keith and Mia,
I hope you’re enjoying your vacation. I’ll make this brief so you can get back to whatever fun thing you are doing today, but I was so excited to send this, I couldn’t wait until you got back.
Mia, I’ve been looking for a meaningful way to thank you for everything you did for me. I wanted to get you a little something that would be useful to you in using your unique talents. It took me a while to figure out what would be best, but I think I’ve finally hit on it. With this device you’ll be able to read books, research things, send emails, and even send text messages. It’s a smartphone with a stylus and handwriting recognition. I know you won’t be able to talk on it, but I thought it would be perfect for a cat who writes but doesn’t want to be dependent on paper all the time.’”
Keith paused and pulled a smaller box out from amongst the Packing Nuisances. “A cat with a smartphone? What a funny idea—but it’s also really smart! That wasn’t supposed to be a pun.”
I sniffed the smaller box. The cat who can’t stand cell phones now owns one? That seemed a bit ironic. But if it could do all the things she’d promised, I couldn’t wait to get my paws on it.
But there was more to the note:
“‘And, Keith, I really wanted you to see this article that was in today’s paper. It’s about you solving my case. They interviewed me, and I was so glad to see they printed the bits about your ingenuity and thinking outside the box. I was delighted to give you a hearty recommendation! Oh, and I think you’ll enjoy the book. It’s one of my favorites, and I think I heard you enjoy reading.
I said I wouldn’t make this a long note. Enjoy your trip, and I look forward to getting an email from you sometime, Mia!
Yours truly,
Claire Thornblood’”
Keith teased, “So you got a smartphone and I got a newspaper clipping and a book.” But I could tell he was pleased just to get a note from Ms. Thornblood. “She wants an email from you, so let’s see how hard this thing is to set up.”
In a few moments, the smooth white phone was unwrapped and we were working on activating it. I sniffed the lower edge where a thin stylus slid into the body of the phone.
The Kitten Files, Season One Page 6
