Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 05 - The Colony Cat Caper

by Patricia Fry

After several tries, Craig announced, “It doesn’t work.” He then instructed Caroline to take Rags to the ground floor and he began to knock and push and probe along and around the door.

  “What are you doing?” Michael called out.

  “Well, I notice this door has no knob. You wouldn’t even know it was a door except for the small keyhole. I’m just wondering if there’s a release someplace.”

  Michael, being a weekend renovation warrior, decided to join Craig at the top of the stairs. He, too, examined the area around the door, and then he had an idea. He retreated down the stairs and began probing along the walls underneath the metal staircase. Suddenly he said, “Aha.” Everyone heard a metallic click and Michael called up to Craig, “Try it now.”

  “It’s open,” he said in a hushed tone. Then they heard him say, “You all stay put.”

  Silence loomed large in the building as everyone waited to hear from Craig.

  “Sheesh, this is like an Indiana Jones movie,” Margaret whispered. She stretched and craned, attempting to see what lay beyond the top of the staircase.

  The others stood perfectly still, except for Rags, who was tugging at the leash in Caroline’s hands.

  A minute later, Craig walked back down to the landing and said, “You guys might be interested in seeing this. I think it may answer some of your questions.”

  Chapter Ten

  Margaret reached the opening first. She entered cautiously. Michael picked up the cat and motioned for Caroline to follow Margaret. He moved aside for Savannah, saying, “Now hold on to those rails.”

  She smiled. “Yes, Daddy.”

  By the time Michael and Savannah had reached the open door, Craig and the others stood at the bottom of another set of metal stairs in what appeared to be a small theater. Michael set Rags down and tossed the tether to Margaret. He then helped Savannah down the steps into the room.

  “Holy cow,” Margaret said, her eyes wide.

  Savannah was equally stunned. She looked around the large room, gasped and said, “Oh my gosh, we’ve been duped.”

  “How so?” Craig asked.

  Michael was also interested in his wife’s comment.

  “It’s all the same person!” Margaret exclaimed. “The security guard…” she said pointing to the uniform hanging on a large portable clothes rack. “…the old guy…” she motioned toward a pair of men’s size-small overalls.

  “There’s his garden hat!” Savannah exclaimed. “And the eyeglasses. Look at the variety of eyeglasses.” She walked toward an open shelf and pointed to the top. “Camille…” she said as if in shock.

  “Oh my gosh, that was a wig,” Margaret said.

  “There are those shoes Iris likes,” Savannah said with a laugh. She then gasped. “And there’s a black turtle neck. He (or she) must be the one who attacked that man with the rock.”

  “It’s a boy,” Margaret said, quietly.

  Savannah looked at her and saw that she was staring at a poster on the wall. She read the signature across the photo: “Jeffrey Fischer.”

  “Who’s Jeffrey Fischer?” Michael asked.

  “Evidently the man in the photo Adam found out here,” Savannah said. “…and the one Colbi found at her house. Looks like he’s an actor.”

  “A frustrated actor/impersonator,” Margaret said, sarcastically.

  “What about the motorcycle getup?” Savannah asked, looking around at the array of wigs and costumes. “Do you think that was him, too?”

  “Maybe he’s wearing it,” Craig said, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Looks like he’s into Shakespeare, too.” Caroline pointed to a rack with renaissance period costumes.

  “And masks,” Savannah noted. She moved around the room and then asked, “Okay, we’re on the ground floor, right? And,” she said pointing, “this is the north side of the building.”

  Craig looked around. “Yes, it appears that’s correct. Why?”

  Savannah walked over to a small window to the right of a small stage and said, “I think this is the window where Bri saw the grotesque face.”

  “Well, you couldn’t see in here unless someone removed that black-out curtain from the window,” Margaret said. “That appears to be the only window in here.” She spun slowly around the room, glancing in all directions. “So the sounds and strange visions people have been hearing and seeing here for years must be coming from this room,” she said.

  “He has quite a production studio, doesn’t he?” Michael said. “Look at all of that sound equipment.”

  “Definitely a wannabe actor,” Craig said.

  “And it appears that he lives here,” Margaret said, pointing out a bed in an alcove and a small bathroom. “He must be the one paying the water and electricity bills.”

  Caroline watched as Rags wandered around the room. Finally, she said, “I don’t believe the item you’re looking for is in here.”

  “Yeah, well, I think we ought to call it a night. I don’t want to wear Savannah out,” Craig said. “Margaret, if you’ll consent, I’d like to tear into some walls. I also want to get someone out here to watch the place in case this Jeffrey Fischer comes back. I want to talk to him about an assault—maybe two assaults,” he said.

  “Craig,” Michael said, “you might consider going under the building. You may see something that isn’t visible up here. Although, it could be kind of messy with cats living down there.”

  Craig thought about it and then pointed at Michael. “Good idea, guy. We’re fairly certain the cat found that pouch on the ground floor and it had to be low to the floor for him to reach it, right?”

  “Not necessarily,” Michael said shaking his head. “Cats can jump and climb and there were tables, shelves, and things in the building that day.”

  Craig scratched his head and looked around. “Yeah, but still, going under the building seems like a good idea. Thanks. It’s always handy to consult with experts in the field.”

  “So will you arrest Jeffrey Fischer?” Margaret asked.

  “Well, I want to talk to him. It appears that he’s the one Damon saw. And maybe he also pushed Leta Barnes.” He looked sheepish and said, “But there is the little problem of searching without a warrant—breaking in.”

  “How can it be breaking in if he isn’t supposed to be living here?” Savannah asked. “Seems as though he broke in, first.”

  “We didn’t break in,” Margaret reminded Craig. “We have a key.”

  Craig looked at her. “Hmm, good point.” He addressed Margaret. “Can you give me the name of Fischer’s attorney? It’s probably time I give him a holler.”

  ***

  The following morning, Michael walked down the hallway from their bedroom, smoothing his hair back with both hands. When he spotted Savannah sitting in the living room, he said, “There you are. What are you doing up so early?”

  “Oh hi, honey. Just catching up on the news,” Savannah said, tossing the newspaper aside and reaching out toward him.

  He took her hand and kissed it. He then lifted Buffy and sat down next to Savannah, placing the little Himmie on his lap. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked. “You’ve been running around a lot more than you probably should be, lately.”

  Savannah yawned and said, “Yeah, I’m feeling okay—just fat, tired, and awkward, not to mention my bladder is taking an awful beating in there.”

  Michael put one hand on her stomach, and they both laughed when the baby kicked. “Ever feel a baby kick, Buffy?” he said. He picked up the cat and placed one of her paws on Savannah’s stomach. “Whoa,” he said when he felt a ripple under his fingers and her paw. He let her paw go and she sat back on his lap, looking up into Savannah’s face and then down at her stomach.

  “What’s in there, huh Buffy?” Savannah said.

  “She’ll find out pretty soon,” Michael said. “And she’ll probably love him or her.”

  “Yeah, she enjoys a warm body to sleep next to.”

  “Don’t we all?” Michael sa
id moving in and nuzzling Savannah’s neck. He pulled back and asked, “So what do you have planned for today? Rest, I hope.”

  “I’d like to go see Leta at the hospital.”

  Michael stared down at Buffy as he gently scratched her behind one ear. “Is that a good idea, hon? She doesn’t really consider you a friend, does she? Wasn’t she just using you guys?”

  “I think she’s the one who’s being used. She actually did the Alliance a big favor. We had a lot of fun and put nearly a thousand dollars in our bank account. I’m not sure anyone even thanked her for taking on the project.” She shifted toward him, and stared into his eyes. “I think she’s all alone. I don’t believe she has any friends here at all.”

  Michael stared down at Savannah’s hand for a minute as he fiddled with her wedding ring. He looked up at her. “I know better than to forbid you to do anything, Savannah. You’ll do whatever you think is right, and I respect that.” He reached up and slid his hand along her neck, lifting her blond hair with his fingers. “Just promise me that you’ll be careful.” He kissed her and then stood up, placing Buffy back in her spot on the sofa. The couple watched as the little cat cleaned herself.

  “I love you,” Savannah said. “And of course, I’ll be careful. I’m a Mama bear, remember?”

  ***

  It was around ten twenty that morning when Savannah arrived at the hospital in Straley. After using the restroom, she approached the information desk. “I’d like to visit Leta Barnes,” she said.

  The receptionist looked up at her, glanced down at her bulging midriff, and asked, “Are you a relative?”

  “Oh, no,” Savannah said. “A friend. My name’s Savannah Ivey.”

  The receptionist pushed her glasses up on her nose. “Oh, pretty name,” she said. “Does she know you’re coming?”

  Savannah shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. She’s just new in town and now she’s hurt, and I thought I’d visit her and let her know she’s not alone.”

  The receptionist hesitated before saying, “Room one-twelve just down the hall and to the right.”

  Savannah thanked the woman and then headed in the direction she pointed. As she stepped into Leta Barnes’s room, she thought the woman was asleep. Hmm, should I stay or go? she wondered. Just then Leta opened her eyes. “Oh Savannah. Hi,” she said. “Come in.”

  Savannah walked past an empty bed and over to where Leta lay with her head bandaged and a cast on one wrist. “Gosh, you’re really banged up,” she said, cringing a little when she saw Leta’s swollen black-and-blue eye. “How are you feeling?”

  “Not too spunky,” Leta said. “So what brings you over here—in your condition?”

  Before Savannah could respond, a nurse walked into the room. She glanced at Leta and then looked Savannah up and down. “Here, let me get you a chair,” she said.

  “Oh, thanks a lot,” Savannah said with a smile. “Even the most ordinary activities are becoming more and more difficult,” she explained.

  “When’s your baby due?” the nurse asked as she placed the chair next to Leta’s bed.

  Savannah removed her jacket and said with a sigh, “Two-and-a-half weeks.”

  The nurse glanced down at Savannah’s baby bump through dark brown eyes and said, “You won’t make it.”

  “What?” Savannah asked.

  “You’ll have that baby before then.”

  “Well that would be nice,” Savannah said rubbing the sides of her stomach. “I’m ready.”

  The nurse put her hand on Savannah’s arm and leaned into her. “Well, best of luck. Will you be having the baby here?”

  “Yeah, that’s the plan.”

  “Good. Maybe I’ll see you when you come in. Is it a boy or girl?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Oh, one of those old-fashioned gals, huh? You want to be surprised.” She looked at Leta and then back at Savannah. “Well, good luck with your baby. I’ll leave you two to visit.”

  “Thanks again,” Savannah said, settling into the chair. She looked at Leta. “So what happened? Someone pushed you down the stairs?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t know if anyone believes me. As far as they know, there was no one else in the building.”

  “Oh they know different now,” Savannah said.

  Leta turned her head as far as she could toward Savannah. “What do you mean?”

  “We found out that someone’s been living in the building. He’s old man Fischer’s son, I would guess.”

  Leta seemed to relax a little. Then she stiffened again. She started to say something and changed her mind.

  “Is he the one who pushed you?” Savannah asked bluntly.

  Leta looked at her again. “Uh…well…I’m not sure.”

  “You mean someone else was there that night?”

  Leta glanced from Savannah to the hallway behind her, and back at Savannah again. She fidgeted with her hands. Looked away. “They tell me not to get upset. But this whole thing has me terrified,” she said through a flood of tears.

  Savannah stood and put her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “What are you afraid of, Leta? That Jeffery Fischer is after you? Why would that be?”

  She rolled her head back and forth. “No, not him. Jeffie wouldn’t hurt me.” She took a breath and turned her head toward the large window to her left.

  Savannah lowered herself into the chair and stared over at the distraught woman. “How do you know that? Do you know him?”

  Leta rolled her head in Savannah’s direction, tears streaming down her face. She took a breath and said quietly, “Anson Fischer is my uncle. Jeffrey’s my cousin, but we haven’t seen each other in years. And I guess my uncle is in no condition to…well, he wouldn’t know me.” She looked up at the ceiling and began speaking as if thinking out loud. “My mother was Anson Fischer’s sister. She married against her parents’ wishes. By the time I came along, she realized her parents had been right and she divorced my father. There was an ugly custody battle that my mother didn’t think she could win, so she went on the run with me in tow.” Leta looked at Savannah. “I guess you could say I was abducted and held prisoner by my mother.” She rolled her head back and forth. “Oh, I didn’t know the difference. I felt safe—had a good life.”

  Just then a loud voice rang out from somewhere in the hallway. Leta looked in that direction with terror in her eyes. “What’s going on out there?” she whispered in a panic. “Can you go see?”

  Savannah eased out of the chair and walked over to the door. She looked up and down the hall and then came back and stood next to Leta’s bed. She put her hand on the frightened woman’s arm. “Nothing. There’s no one out there. Probably just a patient who didn’t want to take his meds,” she said in a comforting voice.

  She sat down and stared at the woman for a moment. “Leta, what are you afraid of? Is someone after you?”

  Leta looked toward the window. When she turned back, she said quietly and methodically, “I was never a very pretty girl. And I moved around a lot with my mother, so I didn’t make lasting friends who could teach me how to use make-up, how to behave with boys, how to dress in the most flattering clothes. I didn’t learn any of that stuff. I grew up to be awkward; I lacked confidence—especially when it came to relationships.”

  She closed her eyes; took in a breath. “I didn’t even do well in business.” She rolled her head toward Savannah and smiled. “But I did get married.” She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “Now for me that was an accomplishment. He was a nice enough guy. We had a decent life, despite the fact that this was the first marriage for both of us and we’d been single for all of our lives. I was thirty-five when we married. He was fifty.” Again she was quiet. “He died just after we celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary. Cancer.”

  Savannah shifted in the chair and looked down at her hands in her lap.

  “I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” Leta said, looking over at Savannah. “Guess I need to talk to somebody. Do you mind
?”

  “No,” Savannah said, even though she felt a little uncomfortable hearing the secrets of this virtual stranger. “How long ago did your husband die?” she asked.

  “Two years.” She wiped her face with a tissue. “I was lonely. Spent every evening by myself. Spent a lot of time on the Internet. I was teaching a healthy-cooking workshop in the Frisco area.” She raised up a bit and reached for her water glass. Savannah stood, poured water into the glass from a pitcher, and handed it to her. After she took a few sips through the straw, Leta said, “I loved it. I grew most of the foodstuff.” She stared into space. “Gardening and cooking: those are my passions.” She looked at Savannah. I hated my job—never did have a job I liked. So, well, one evening a few months ago, I got an e-mail from a man who was interested in the work I was doing. One thing led to another and we…well, we developed a rather lovely relationship over the Internet.”

  Savannah noticed Leta glancing toward doorway as she spoke. She looked at Savannah. “Heck, I didn’t even meet him in person until a month ago. He said he travelled a lot on business. Finally, he was in the area and we met for dinner. That’s when I really fell for him. He paid so much attention to me, took me to exotic places. I’ve been having the time of my life. He even encouraged me to quit my job so we could spend more time together. I thought it was a match made in heaven.”

  Leta stared out the window. “He even paid off some of my bills, moved me into a posh apartment in San Francisco. I was happier than I think I’d ever been in my life,” she said.

  And then she began to weep. She reached over and picked up a small photo from her bedside table and stared at it for a moment.

  She started to put it down when Savannah asked, “Is that him?”

  “Oh yes,” she said, handing the photo to Savannah. She smiled. “That’s my man, Mark Chandler. Nice-looking, isn’t he?”

  Savannah raised her eyebrows and cocked her head a little. “Yeah, he is!” she agreed, handing the photograph back.

  Leta looked at the small photo again, saying, “I’m so glad they found my purse. This photo was in it and my cell phone…” She stared into the photo again. “It’s strange,” she said, “I trusted him immediately. I shared so much with him.” She looked at Savannah. “I’ve never had anyone show such interest in me and my life.” She paused. “But I’ve come to realize that, even after all this time, I still don’t know much about him. I don’t even know what business he’s in—what takes him out of town so often.”