By Cat or By Crook (A Klepto Cat Mystery Book 20)

by Patricia Fry

  “What?” Savannah asked.

  “We’d really better see if we can get inside that thing before we put it in public view.”

  “I agree. Do you know how to do that?”

  “Maybe the combination is in that book Maggie found.”

  “Yeah, it might be written in there, I guess. Michael suggested we get a professional safecracker.”

  “Locksmith,” he corrected.

  “He says to call a locksmith—it should probably be someone who’s accustomed to working with antique safes.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Hey Iris, are you at home?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Don’t you think you should get some sleep? I’ll see you out at the place tomorrow afternoon. Oh wait.” She turned to Michael. “Hon, can you keep an eye on Lily tomorrow after work?”

  “Yeah, I should be able to. What time?”

  “Around four or four thirty?”

  He nodded.

  “Iris, I’ll see you out there around four or four thirty, okay?”

  “Perfect. Will you bring your cat again?”

  “Yeah, probably should, huh?”

  Once she’d hung up, Michael asked, “So you didn’t find any cats in the attic?”

  She shook her head. “No. But we think we’re closer to figuring out how they’re getting up in there. We want to check it out in the daylight, preferably after the workers have gone home.”

  “Well, cat lady,” he said, patting her knee, “ready for bed?”

  She yawned and nodded.

  ****

  “Hi, Rob,” Savannah said into her phone the following morning after feeding Lily breakfast and tending to the animals. “Sorry I wasn’t around to take your call yesterday. How are you? We haven’t heard from you in ages. Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, excellent. And you? Are you and Michael and the little one still enjoying life?”

  “Immensely,” Savannah said. “So you sold Rags’s documentary?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just what does that mean?”

  “Well, it could mean that you and Michael can afford to take a year off and travel or you might start a nice education fund for your children.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure. And the fact that the investor wants to bring out a series of children’s books featuring Rags, as well as some coloring books, should sweeten the pot even more.” Before Savannah could respond, Rob asked, “How is Rags, by the way? Still healthy, I trust.”

  “Oh yes, and as adventurous as ever. Last month, he and his girlfriend ran away and they managed to find a missing person—actually, two of them. One had been missing for nearly twenty years.”

  “Oh, my God. How does he do that?” Rob asked. “You know, that story would make a great sequel to the klepto cat-themed documentary.”

  “Yeah, and some of his activities were videotaped. You know, with Rags, you could do a sequel a week. Before that escapade, he was running around the neighborhood with a redheaded beauty stealing children’s toys, sunglasses, and jewelry.” Savannah waited until Rob had stopped laughing to add, “A while back, he was an eyewitness to a murder and he actually squealed to the police. Oh yes, and he has a cat-rescue ranch named after him.”

  “The investor will go crazy when he hears about this—that’s enough material for a whole dozen or so children’s books. When can we start shooting him and some of his friends?” he asked.

  “When do you want to do it? Sounds like you have a studio all set up.” Before he could respond, she said, “Actually, right now he’s kind of involved in trying to find the route some wild cats are taking into the attic of a turn-of-the-century home. That’s a real puzzle—for us, anyway. Rags probably already has it figured out, but he’s not talking.”

  Rob burst out laughing, then said, “Yeah, I’ve arranged to have the pictures taken here in Hammond to make it convenient for you. I have a photographer lined up. And wait ’til you see the amazing artwork we’ve had designed. So when will you be available? Of course, the sooner the better.”

  “How about tomorrow morning? Will that work for you?”

  “Sure. I’ll make it work.”

  “I’m eager to see the studio. Are there any special props I should bring?”

  “Not that I can think of. You’ll probably have his harness and leash, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And bring some of his more photogenic friends. The studio’s at 812 North Gavin Street. How about I meet you there tomorrow—Wednesday—at ten?”

  “Okay, see you then.”

  “Hi Auntie,” Savannah said into the phone a few minutes later as she followed Lily into the living room and watched her play with her building blocks. “How are you this morning? Still reading your new book?”

  “Huh? Oh yes. That thing’s fascinating. I can just imagine what all those entries mean.”

  “Hey, did you find anything in there that looks like a combination to the safe—you know, twelve, twenty-five, eighty-two, or something like that?”

  “Uh, no, not that I recall. I think I would have noticed that. No Vannie, it’s just a book of names, some of them crossed off and some with check marks. And I found a few pages of figures, like money amounts and numbers. I wondered if that was money borrowed, loaned, or,” she snickered, “…stolen. Oh,” she said excitedly, “I talked to Colbi and she’s going to look up some of the names we found in there and see who those people were.” She lowered her voice. “I still can’t get over seeing my father’s name in that book.”

  “That is kind of creepy. Are there any women’s names?”

  “Women?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t notice, but some of them sure could be women. There are a lot of initials—just an initial and a last name.”

  Savannah was quiet for a moment, then she asked, “Could this be a book of Johns?”

  “Johns?” Margaret questioned.

  “Yeah, you know, guys using prostitutes. That could be a madam’s book you have there.” When Margaret remained quiet, Savannah explained, “As in a house of ill repute.”

  “Oh, Vannie, I doubt that. Your grandfather’s listed in this book, for Pete’s sake.” She paused before saying, “So you think the old Kaiser house was a brothel?”

  “Yeah, maybe Melody’s mother, Geraldine, was a madam. Or maybe her mother-in-law was. Or someone in the Kaiser family came in possession of that book for blackmail purposes.”

  “And the plot thickens,” Margaret said in an eerie voice. Then more excitedly, she added, “Wow! That hadn’t occurred to me. I’ll have to run these ideas by Colbi and see what she thinks.”

  “Hey, gotta go. Lily’s bothering Lassie.”

  “Who?” Margaret asked.

  “Oh, you haven’t met Lassie, yet, have you? Such a sweet dog.”

  “You have a new dog? Like you need another animal around there.”

  “We’re just fostering her until her new owner gets out of the hospital,” Savannah explained.

  “Who’s that?” Margaret asked.

  “The little boy Adam and Kira found while we were out riding Sunday. You didn’t hear about that?”

  “No.”

  “Well, the little boy was evidently kidnapped and dumped up in the mountains and this dog showed up and kept him warm. The kids heard Lassie whimpering and when we investigated, we found the boy down the side of a hill in the brush with a broken leg.”

  “Wow!” Margaret chuckled. “Sounds like Michael’s son is taking after your cat.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Or maybe it’s your horse.”

  “Huh?”

  “Your cat wasn’t with you, was he?”

  “On the trail ride? No. Why?”

  “I’m just trying to figure out what the cat-alyst for that cat-astrophe was.” Margaret laughed. “Sure sounds like something your crazy cat’s presence would trigger. But
if he wasn’t there, then who attracted this cat-aclysm?”

  “Oh, Auntie, stop it.” After thinking about it, Savannah said, “You know, things happen when you’re out doing stuff. We’re an active family. We don’t just sit around the house vegetating like some people do.” When there was no response, she said, “Auntie, are you there?”

  “Yeah. So is Lassie a collie?”

  “No, not even close. She’s a very sweet long-haired German shepherd-mix, I’d say, but as smart as Lassie. And she’s okay with cats and other dogs. Lexie’s a bit bent out of shape, but the situation’s only temporary. She’ll live.” When Savannah saw Lily trying to groom Buffy with her doll brush, she said, “Hey, gotta go rescue Buffy. See you later. Want to come by here and meet Lassie around four? I’ll ride over to the Kaiser place with you.”

  ****

  “Hi. Ready for another adventure?” Savannah asked, as she opened the door for her aunt just before four that afternoon.

  “Sure. Did Iris find a safecracker? That’s what I’m interested in—seeing what’s in that safe.”

  Savannah shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”

  “Oh, hello,” Margaret said when Lassie walked slowly toward her. “Well, you certainly are friendly, aren’t you?” she said, petting the dog and ruffling her fur. She looked around. “And you like cats, do you?”

  “Seems to,” Savannah said. “Or at least she tolerates them. She’s been a lovely guest. No trouble at all. Only…”

  “Uh-oh, only what?” Margaret asked.

  “Well, she can’t figure out what kind of animal Peaches is. She actually rode out of the wilderness on one of the horses last Saturday, but every time I let her out, she rushes to the corral and barks at Peaches.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t like horses.” When she saw that Savannah was waiting to hear more, Margaret added, “A horse might have stepped on her once.”

  “Could be, I guess. But it’s annoying and rude.”

  “Rude?”

  “Well, yes. Peaches hasn’t done anything to Lassie. She must feel bad being barked at for no reason.”

  “How long will you keep the dog?”

  “Until Aaron goes home from the hospital, I guess. Should be any day, actually.” Savannah picked up her jacket. “I’d better go tell Michael we’re leaving.”

  Before she could leave the room, he appeared in the kitchen doorway with Lily in his arms. “Ready to go?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yes. ’Bye, hon,” she said, kissing him. She kissed Lily on the cheek. “Mommy will see you in a little while.” She picked up Rags’s harness. “Michael, you can put the casserole in the oven at 350 around…” she looked at the clock. “…five thirty. It needs to bake for forty minutes. I should be home by then, don’t you think so, Auntie?”

  Margaret nodded. “I like your new dog, Michael,” she said, grinning.

  “Yeah, she’s a nice one.”

  “Hey, Michael,” Savannah said while reaching for Rag’s harness, “did you hear from the boy today? Do you know when he’ll be ready to take his pooch?”

  He shook his head. “I’ll call tomorrow.” When he noticed Rags was dancing around in front of Savannah, he laughed. “Hold that harness still. He’s trying to climb into it and you keep moving it around.”

  “Oh, sorry, Rags,” she said, holding it out in front of him. “Come on.”

  “He’s ready to go, isn’t he?” Margaret said, chuckling when she saw the cat push his head into the harness.

  “Yeah, but I have to be quick to fasten it or he runs right out of it before it’s buckled. There,” she said, picking up the leash and heading toward the door with the cat. “Auntie, do any of your cats like car rides?” she asked as they stepped out the door.

  “They don’t get much of a chance to ride in the car. Michael usually comes to us when the cats need veterinary care.”

  “Well, I have an opportunity for some of them if they would tolerate a car ride.”

  Margaret cocked her head and squinted up at her much-taller niece. “Huh?”

  “Yeah, do you think some of your cats would like to be in pictures?”

  “Uh…what pictures?”

  “You’re always carping about Rags’s great opportunities,” she said, after placing the cat in the back of the car and sliding into the passenger seat next to Margaret. “Well, Rags has a photo shoot coming up and Rob wants to involve some of his friends. Do you think Layla or Jack or Gizmo would be willing subjects?”

  “Whatever for?” Margaret asked. “Another documentary?”

  “No. A children’s book….maybe a series of children’s books.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, someone bought Rags’s documentary to air on one of the animal channels and he wants to expand on the klepto-cat theme through children’s books.”

  Margaret shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

  “You can be involved if you’d like. Jack would probably make a good subject and maybe Layla. Want to join us?”

  “Gosh, let me think about it. When will this photo shoot take place and where?”

  “Tomorrow morning in downtown Hammond.”

  Margaret smiled. “Hey, count me in. I’ll figure out which cat or cats to bring.” She shivered a little in her seat. “That should be fun. Yeah, I’d like to do that.” As they approached the looming Kaiser house, Margaret pointed. “There’s Iris. Looks like she’s taking out the trash,” she said, scoffing. As she drove closer, Margaret lowered her window and called out, “Have you been demoted to garbage collector?”

  “Yeah,” Iris said. “Darned laborers can’t even take care of their own lunch trash. It’s as if I’m babysitting a bunch of kindergarteners.” She walked up to the car. “So, are you ready to continue our search?”

  “Sure am,” Margaret said, raising the window and stepping out of the car.

  “Got Rags, I see,” Iris said. “Let’s hope he can figure out this maze rather quickly. I’m ready to move on to other challenges.” She shook her head. “Heaven knows it has been a whole battle of challenges out here.”

  “Anything interesting happen today?” Savannah asked once she’d opened the car door for Rags to jump out, making sure she had a grip on the leash.

  “Not really,” Iris said. “It was fairly quiet. No siblings coming around and ordering changes. No squabbles among the workers. I actually finished a project I’ve been working on for over a week. All is good.”

  Suddenly, Savannah lost her balance. “Rags, settle down.”

  “What’s he doing?” Iris asked.

  “Looks like he wants to go out into those trees.”

  “Good idea,” Iris said. “Let’s follow him.”

  “Rags, slow down, will you?” Savannah complained as she tried to keep up with him. “You’re pulling my arm out of the socket.”

  “Cats,” Margaret said. “Look at them scatter. There must be eight or ten of them.”

  “Yes, there they are,” Iris said. “I guess he wants to meet them. I hope he’ll play nice. Melody doesn’t want a hair on their heads harmed.”

  Savannah smirked. “Yeah, I got that memo.”

  “I hope Rags did, too,” Iris said cautiously. “He won’t scratch or bite any of them, will he?”

  “I doubt it. He probably just wants to make friends.”

  “You’d better hope none of them will hurt Rags,” Margaret said. “I mean, with his photo shoot coming up this week.”

  Iris cocked her head and looked at the others. “Photo shoot?”

  “Yeah, he’s being photographed for a children’s book series,” Margaret explained. “And some of my cats might be in the books, too.”

  “Neat,” Iris said.

  “Where’d they go?” Savannah asked as the three women and the cat moved into the stand of trees. “Those cats all disappeared.”

  After glancing around the area for a few moments, Margaret
agreed. “They sure did. Hey, I’ll bet Rags knows where they went. Let him have his head, Vannie.”

  “There!” Iris hissed. “I just saw a cat go into that bush.”

  “Rags saw him, too,” Savannah said, holding tightly to the leash as she rushed to keep up with him. Upon approaching the shrub, Rags began pawing. He pushed his head into the bush and clawed at it until Savannah picked him up. “Rags, you’re going to get full of stickers. I don’t want to have to give you a bath before your photo shoot.” She looked around. “Are there any garden tools around here—a shovel, maybe, or pruners?”

  “Sure,” Iris said, heading toward a small shed. She returned with clippers and a shovel. “Here, I have my work shoes on, let me see if I can dig that thing up.” After a few moments, she complained, “Ground’s too hard.”

  “Let me have those pruners,” Savannah said, handing the leash to Margaret. She promptly clipped some of the branches from the shrub. “Hey, it’s a drainpipe. Look, a pretty big one. I’ll bet that’s where the cats disappeared to.” She kneeled down and looked into the pipe. “I see a couple of them. Hi, kitty.” She stood and took a gander at the house.

  Before she could speak, Iris said, “Do you suppose…?”

  “Yeah, I’m wondering, just where does this drainpipe lead?”

  “It must be the cats’ entrance into the attic,” Margaret said.

  Iris crinkled her brow. “But how in the world do they get from ground level up to the attic without anyone seeing them in the house?”

  “Maybe they climb up inside the walls,” Savannah reasoned.

  Iris scratched her head. “But, how?”

  “Yes, good question—cats can’t climb up something vertical, unless…” Margaret said.

  “Yeah, unless it’s designed for cats,” Savannah added.

  Iris put her hands on her hips. “You mean you think someone built stairs inside the wall for the cats?”

  When Savannah nodded rather apprehensively, Margaret asked, “What? Who would do that?”

  After thinking about it for a moment, Savannah said, “Someone with a lot of money who maybe lived with someone who didn’t share her adoration for cats.” She paused before adding, “You heard your boss lady, Iris; she said her father banned the cats from the house.”