Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 05 - The Colony Cat Caper

by Patricia Fry

  A Klepto Cat Mystery

  Book Five

  The Colony Cat Caper

  by Patricia Fry

  ISBN: 978-0-9911065-5-4

  Copyright © 2014 by Patricia Fry

  Matilija Press

  Ojai, CA

  Chapter One

  It had been nearly twenty hours since the women were tied up and left in the abandoned warehouse. Margaret was darn near worn out from trying to free herself and Colbi. If only we could get these gags off, maybe someone would hear us yelling, Margaret thought. Hell, I can’t even communicate with Colbi except with my eyes, and that isn’t working.

  Why hasn’t anyone looked for us in here? We know people are coming around; they’ve gotta be aware that we’re missing. Why haven’t they searched in here? Oh God, maybe something has happened to Max and Savannah, too. Otherwise, they’d be looking for us in here—my car’s right outside, for heaven’s sake. Or is it? Crap, maybe those men took it.

  Margaret looked up and saw a white cat appear from around a column across the expansive storeroom. Well, that’s odd. How’d he get in here? She glanced over at Colbi, who was leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. Margaret nudged her. When Colbi’s deep-blue eyes sprang open, Margaret motioned toward the cat. Neither of them had seen a cat inside the old building since they’d begun caring for the cat colony on the property.

  Sure didn’t know that decision would put us in such danger, Margaret thought, trying not to cry. Crying makes it harder to breathe with a gag in your mouth.

  Suddenly Margaret felt a chuckle rising to the surface of her emotions. This may be the first time in my life that I wished a cat was a dog, she thought. That cat over there is of no use to us. He can’t bark and alert someone that we’re here. He won’t untie us. He isn’t even good company—he’s feral, after all. Margaret lay back against the wall and rolled her head from side to side wondering what she could have done differently to avoid this nasty turn of events—a situation that could result in her death. Was I too reckless? Was I so focused on saving the cats that I put myself and Colbi in danger?

  Just then, she felt something touch her leg. Startled, she glanced down and saw the white cat sitting just inches from her. Margaret looked into his amber eyes. You sure were pretty in your day, she thought. Too bad no one cared enough about you to rescue you…or maybe you were born into the colony.

  Margaret shook her head, almost laughing at the irony of the situation. We came here to help you and your cat friends. Now we need help and all you can do is stare at us. She looked around. How in the hell did you get in here, anyway? she wondered. If you would just chew this damn twine that’s cutting into our ankles and wrists, maybe we could crawl out the way you came in. She breathed deeply. Yeah, that’s not going to happen.

  Margaret thought back to the events that led up to them being accosted and left helpless. Abandoned like the cats we’re trying to save.

  ***

  It was Monday afternoon, a little over three weeks earlier. Ida Stone pressed the sides of the stuffed chenille cat. “Meow, Meow!”

  “Will the meeting of the Hammond Cat Alliance please come to order?”

  There were a few chuckles and comments about the unconventional “gavel” before Ida had everyone’s attention. She thanked Savannah Ivey for opening her home to a larger-than-usual group, and then she reviewed the purpose of the meeting. “As most of you know, business relocations and family home foreclosures have resulted in a larger population of abandoned cats.” She tucked a strand of her bleached-blond hair behind one ear, glanced around the room, and continued in a quiet tone. “There are a lot of cats in our local communities that have been left behind to fend for themselves, and many of them have joined colonies where cats are already being fed or where there’s a high population of rodents. While some of the cats in these colonies are second-, third-, and even fourth-generation feral, others were family pets forced into the elements.” She made eye contact with a few of the men and women around the room. “Some of these cats simply won’t make it if they’re left out there for too long.” She paused and smiled. “I’m pleased to see so many of you here today because, folks, we have our work cut out for us.”

  Ida cleared her throat and looked down at her notes. Raising her eyes again, she said, “That’s why we’ve invited Jody Benevitas here today; to reinforce what some of us know about managing cat colonies and to educate those of us who are new to the concept. She is with the Hammond Animal Shelter and her specialty is cat colonies.” She turned to their guest, smiled, and said, “Jody, we’re eager to learn more about colony management. Please enlighten us.”

  By the time the meeting was adjourned, most of the guests had joined the Alliance and most of the members had signed up to work in some capacity at designated areas where homeless cats were known to gather. Volunteers committed to helping with trap-and-release programs in order to get all of the cats and kittens in these areas spayed and neutered. They would find homes for those that were adoptable, and either release the others back into their colonies or relocate them to a safer place. They would also provide food and water for those cats remaining in colonies, and continue to monitor each cat’s health and well-being.

  Known colony locations were assigned, and the new managers for each colony split into groups to discuss their projects. Savannah, a local veterinarian out on maternity leave; her aunt Margaret Sheridan, the founder of the Alliance; and Colbi Stanton, a reporter and pet columnist for the Hammond Daily News agreed to manage the strays at a long-abandoned building in a run-down industrial area.

  “Have you been out to that place, yet?” Margaret asked, as the trio sat in a cluster at one end of the dining room table.

  Colbi nodded and brushed her long, soft-brown hair off one shoulder. “Damon took me out there. He’s doing a story about abandoned buildings in Hammond. While he was snooping around the property, he spotted a couple of cats. That’s how we became aware of this colony, you know.” She smiled, her pretty face lighting up as she looked from one to the other of her fellow committee members. “Can you imagine Damon, the former cat-hater, being the catalyst in possibly rescuing these cats?”

  “No, since it was a cat that put him in prison…” Margaret said.

  Colbi laughed. “Yup, and there he is,” she said, pointing at Savannah’s over-sized grey-and-white cat who had just entered the room.

  “Ah yes, Rags,” Savannah said, reaching out and running her hand along the cat’s back. “The incredible whodunit king.” She laughed and then turned serious. “How many cats are out there, Colbi?”

  “It’s hard to tell, but we spotted around six adults, and gosh—I’m not sure how many half-grown kittens we saw scampering out of sight when we arrived.” She looked at Savannah and then Margaret. “It’s going to be a big job, guys.” She rested her eyes on Savannah again. “Will you be up to it?”

  “Yeah, I need the exercise, and I need something else to focus on besides being pregnant.” She smiled. “Once the baby comes, he or she can go out there with me to feed them, or I can take a shift when Michael’s home with the baby.” She thought for a moment before saying, “Sure, I can do it.” She looked at Colbi and then Margaret. “I want to do it. Maybe we can save some of those cats and put them in loving homes.”

  “That’s our goal,” Margaret said with a sigh. “I’d like to make cat colonies obsolete, along with shelters like ours.”

  “You want to retire?” Savannah asked.

  “Well, yeah. Max and I dream of a world where every cat is cherished, don’t you? I would love it if there was no longer a need for cat rescue facilit
ies, foster-cat programs, cat colony management…”

  “Amen,” Colbi said.

  Margaret cleared her throat and leaned toward the others, her brown eyes wide with mischief. “Now, have you girls heard the rumors about that old building?”

  “No,” Savannah said, shifting in her chair and stretching out her long legs.

  “What rumors?” Colbi asked.

  “Well, I thought that might be why Damon was doing a story about the place. He didn’t tell you what goes on out there?”

  “Uh, no,” Colbi said. “Like what? I mean, as far as I know, he’s just doing a piece on why we have so many abandoned buildings and how we can bring in new businesses to fill them.” She hesitated. “No, he didn’t tell me anything was going on out there.”

  Savannah glanced at Colbi and then back at her aunt, her blond ponytail swinging from side to side. “What are the rumors, Auntie?”

  Margaret leaned in closer and spoke quietly, “Some say the place is haunted.”

  Savannah waved her hand in the air. “Oh Auntie, that’s nonsense.” She sat up straight, focusing her green eyes on Margaret. “Every town has its haunted building and its people with active imaginations.” She shook her head and then said, “Okay, let’s discuss our first course of action. I think we should plan a little outing—go investigate the area, figure out where to set up feeding stations, take inventory of the cats, and evaluate them.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Margaret agreed.

  “Yes, I’m on board,” Colbi said. “If there are any sick ones, we want to get them help right away. I saw a few that looked kinda iffy—you know, scruffy coats, thin…”

  ***

  The last of the guests were leaving when Savannah’s husband Michael pulled his veterinary truck into the circular driveway in front of their home. “Hi Dr. Mike,” Edie Minsky said cheerfully as she watched him climb out of the truck. “You missed a good meeting.”

  “Hello Edie,” he said with a nod. “Yeah, I wanted to hear the lecture on cat colonies. Was it interesting?”

  “Sure was,” she replied. “There’s a lot to know about caring for feral cats.”

  Betty and Gil Gilbert ambled into the conversation on the way to their vehicle. Betty said, “You know, Gil and I’ve been managing a couple of cat colonies for years and I learned a lot here today.”

  Gil nodded. He reached out to shake Michael’s hand, saying, “I think you’re gonna be busy, guy. If everyone does their job, there’ll be a lot of wild ’uns comin’ your way.”

  “Yeah,” Betty interjected, “there are quite a number of cats and kittens at the old Fischer building.” She smiled. “Your wife’s going to be involved in that mess out there.”

  Michael looked askance. “Oh, is that right?” he said, wincing a little.

  “Yeah,” Edie said, “and you know what that means.” Her smile brightened; her gray eyes dancing.

  “Yup,” he said. “It means I have a new project.” He shook his head. “A cat colony, huh?”

  The threesome laughed.

  “Have fun, Dr. Mike,” Edie said with a wave as she pulled her jacket collar up around her ears and rushed off to her car.

  “See you,” Betty said, turning toward their truck. Gil followed behind.

  “Yeah, thanks guys, for making my day,” he called after them with a laugh.

  Just then, the front door of the house opened. Michael looked up in time to see Lexie, their Afghan-mix dog rushing out to greet him. “Hi Lexie,” he said bending over and ruffling the long fur on both sides of her neck. “I’m happy to see you, too, girl.” He looked up and saw Savannah waiting at the door, smiling.

  “Hi hon,” she called out as he approached the steps to the large wrap-around porch. “Have a nice day?”

  “Yeah, but I hear that’s about to change.”

  She frowned, looking confused. “What do you mean?”

  He hopped up the steps. Putting one arm around Savannah’s shoulders, he turned her toward the doorway and ushered her into the house. Lexie ran in ahead of them. Michael kissed Savannah, rubbed her baby belly, and then said, “You have a new project, huh?”

  Her shoulders slumped a little. “Oh, you’ve already received the memo, I see.”

  “Do you really think you should be making big commitments like this when we’re about to have a baby? Don’t you think you’ll be plenty busy being a mommy?”

  She fidgeted with the lower edge of her bulky green sweater for a moment, then took a deep breath and said, “Michael, let’s sit down.” She led him to the sofa. He plopped down and proceeded to take off his shoes, a habit he pursued as soon as he got home from work no matter the season or the weather.

  Savannah sat on the sofa next to her husband. “Your little piggies always seem so happy to come out and play,” she said with a laugh.

  He frowned and cocked his head to one side. “Piggies?”

  “Your toes. You always wriggle them like that when you take off your shoes and socks.”

  He looked down. “I do?”

  “Yes, you just did it.”

  “Oh, I guess I never noticed. He leaned his six-foot frame against the back of the sofa, took Savannah’s hand and said, “So what’s this you’ve gotten yourself…er…maybe us…involved in?”

  “I just volunteered to help Auntie and Colbi with a cat colony over at the old Fischer building. That’s all.”

  “What will this entail? Is there anyone working out there now? Or will you be starting from scratch; trapping and all?”

  Savannah gently massaged his hand and thought for a moment about how to respond. “Well, as I understand it, these cats aren’t being cared for. Yes, it’s a new colony…well, maybe an older colony, but Colbi doesn’t think anyone’s feeding out there.” She leaned toward him. “Oh Michael, I’ve always been interested in cat colonies. I’d love to learn more about them and be a part of creating a healthy environment for these throw-away cats.” She looked into his eyes. “Don’t you see, Michael? I want to make a difference.”

  “But is the timing right for this, Savannah? We’re going to have a baby next month.”

  “A lot of mothers have outside interests—some even work full time,” she reminded him. “This isn’t going to be as demanding as a job. Once we get the colony healthy, it’s just a matter of maintenance, and the baby can go with me when I feed the cats.”

  Michael stared down at their hands, squeezed hers, and said, “Uh-huh.”

  Savannah continued in her effort to win him over. “Of course, our baby will come first in all of our decisions. If this isn’t working for our family, I will stop. I promise.” She looked at him, reached up and brushed back the stubborn hairs that hung over one eyebrow, and said, “I really want to do this, Michael.”

  He grimaced and then smiled. “I’ve never denied you anything, have I, Savannah?”

  “No,” she said moving her head back and forth slowly. “I appreciate that about our relationship. We’re free to be who we are and do what we feel we need or want to do.” She looked at him thoughtfully for a few moments, and then asked, “You feel the same, don’t you, Michael? I haven’t gotten in your way, have I?”

  He put one hand up to his chin and stared off into space, as if thinking. An impish smile appeared on his handsome face. “Wellllll,” he said, “you don’t let me pile up my sawdust as high as I’d like to.”

  “Oh stop it,” she said, indignantly. “The sawdust issue again…if I didn’t sweep up after you work on your renovation projects around this house, we’d be buried in sawdust by now.”

  Michael laughed and then turned serious. “Okay, Savannah. Go for it, hon. Caring for a cat colony is a worthwhile project and if that’s what you want to do, I won’t interfere.” He squinted in her direction. “But how involved will you expect me to be?”

  “Just support me,” she said.

  He sighed in relief.

  Savannah stood and walked toward the kitchen saying, “And go with me to feed, carr
y heavy traps, load bags of cat food in my car…”

  He jumped up from the sofa and followed after her. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said, laughing. “Okay, Savannah. I guess it goes with the territory.” He suddenly stopped in his tracks. “Whoa there, Rags,” he said as the cat raced around the corner in front of him, nearly knocking him off balance. “Where are you going so fast, and what do you have?” He turned toward the lanky cat and made an attempt to grab him, but missed.

  Savannah watched as Michael raced up the staircase after the cat, then she retreated into the kitchen, a wide smile on her face. And baby makes seven, she thought as she glanced over at Lexie, who was lying quietly in her bed next to the outside kitchen door, chewing the innards out of a toy mouse. She shook her head in disgust, and walked over to pick up the fluff the dog had spread all around the area. As she headed toward the trash can with the mess, she noticed that Walter and Buffy were waiting rather impatiently next to their kitty food bowls. Walter, expressing a rare foul mood, reached out with one of his coal black paws and bopped Buffy on top of her pretty head. The little Himalayan-mix flattened her ears and hissed at him. Can this household be any more chaotic? She laughed and rubbed the sides of her bulging belly.

  “What did he have?” Savannah asked when she heard Michael enter the kitchen behind her.

  “One of the baby’s toys, again,” he said in disgust. “In fact, I found all of these in his stash upstairs.”

  Savannah turned in time to see Rags stretching up Michael’s leg, trying to retrieve his contraband.

  “Look at all these toys he’s stolen from the nursery. Savannah, you have to keep that door closed,” he said.

  Savannah smiled down at the cat and shook her head. “Ragsie, you are one high-maintenance cat.”

  “Yeowwwllll.”

  The couple quickly looked toward Walter and Buffy, whose spat had accelerated. “Gads, I’d better feed them before they devour each other,” Savannah said with a laugh.

  ***

  The next morning, Margaret drove Savannah and Colbi out to the Fischer building.