Cats in the Belfry (A Klepto Cat Mystery Book 24)

by Patricia Fry

  “So, Nola, you’ve been out there?” Savannah asked.

  The younger woman nodded. “I was with a group of friends one night maybe five years ago. Actually they were friends of a friend of a friend. It turned out to be one of those situations that, once I was involved, I couldn’t back out of. I was riding in someone else’s car and all that.” She continued, “We ended up out at the seminary late at night and boy, was that a spooky experience.” She looked at Savannah, then Margaret. “You two are courageous to take on that colony.”

  Wide-eyed, Margaret asked, “What did you see out there? What happened?”

  “Well, it was what we heard, mostly. Some sort of…um…I guess you’d call it chanting.

  It sort of echoed through the building real eerie-like.” She laughed. “I was scared from the get-go, but you should have seen some of the instigators—those who made fun of us for being frightened. When that chanting sound started getting really loud, they were the first ones out of the building.” She snickered. “The big brave driver almost left without us, he was so eager to get away.”

  “Wow!” Savannah exclaimed. “Sounds scary, all right. But we probably don’t have any reason to go inside the place.” She looked at Margaret. “The cats are outside, aren’t they?”

  Before Margaret could answer, June asked, “How did you two get involved, anyway?”

  Margaret took a deep breath. “Max knows the caretaker. Andy came to us just before we left on our trip and asked if we knew anything about relocating cats.” She addressed Savannah. “Yeah, you’re right, we won’t be going inside. Andy said the place is locked up and all the cats are outside. Piece of cake.”

  “What’s your time frame, Maggie?” June asked.

  “He has given us a month to work our magic.” She faced June, then glanced at Nola. “We wanted to find out if you have room, in case we need a place for some of the cats—in particular the least socialized ones.”

  “Do you know how many you’re dealing with?” Nola asked.

  Margaret shook her head. “From what Andy said, maybe as many as twenty-five.” She winced. “But, as you know, it’s kitten season and we could find a dozen or so more.”

  “Yes,” June said, “we can accommodate all that you want to bring us.”

  Margaret smiled. “Thank you. Only I hope we won’t have to overwhelm you. We should be able take maybe ten or twelve, plus any nursing kittens, but it’s hard to tell what the need will be at a shelter like ours from one day to the next.”

  “So true,” Nola said. “However, we’re in pretty good shape here, so no worries. You two ladies go rescue those sweet kitties and between us, we’ll make sure they have a happy and healthy rest of their nine lives.”

  Margaret smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Yes,” Savannah said, “it makes our job less stressful knowing that you’re here. So you have room in the feral cat enclosure?”

  June’s face lit up. “Yes. Nola, show them what we’ve done out there.” She turned to Savannah and Margaret. “We’ve enlarged it and Nola and Luke have begun a more stringent socialization program with some of the most recent wild ones in hopes that we can place more of them in forever homes.” She smiled at Nola. “Those two really make things happen around here. Aren’t they wonderful?”

  “They sure are,” Savannah agreed.

  “And to think I found her in a jail cell.” June grinned at Nola, then glanced at the others. “…all because of her passion for helping cats. What a beautiful day it was when I met Nola.”

  The younger woman smiled sweetly at June, then issued an invitation to the others. “Come on, I’ll show you what we’ve been doing.” She started to step out of the room, then turned and said, “Luke’s out here. He’ll want to see you too.”

  “So he’s doing okay?” Savannah asked as she walked along next to Nola. “Did he finish school?”

  Nola nodded. “Oh yes. June made sure of that.”

  “And his grandmother’s okay with him living here and working with the cats?” Savannah added. “As I recall, he and his brothers lived with their grandmother.”

  “That’s right.” Nola laughed. “Yes, she’s here a couple of times a week helping out, herself. She says if she wants a relationship with her youngest grandson, she’d better become a cat lady. She has convinced Luke to take business classes at the community college and he seems to be enjoying that, actually. Yeah, he’s doing okay.”

  “And you?” Savannah asked. “Is it working out well for you? You should be out...”

  Nola turned to face Savannah. “Out what?” she challenged. “Partying, shopping, focusing on my makeup? Naw, that’s not me. I’m doing just what I want to be doing at this point in my life. I’ll always cherish the day I met June Balcomb. Not only is she the best mentor I’ve ever met, she’s the grandmother I never had. We’re a great team and I just adore being here.” She chuckled. “You know, my mother loves cats too, and she also volunteers here. It’s strange for me and Luke to be bossing our parents around.”

  “Well, you’re young,” Margaret said, “don’t forget to have fun and enjoy the benefits of your youth. Don’t make it all about your work.”

  Nola stared at Margaret for a moment. “I appreciate you reminding me of that. Yeah, I owe it to myself and friends and family to be more well-rounded.” Her smile brightened when she explained, “I’ve joined the recreation department and they sponsor activities for adults. We hike somewhere or bicycle and even horseback ride just about twice a month.”

  “Good girl,” Savannah said.

  “Oh, there’s Luke.” Nola waved. “Luke, we have visitors!”

  “Hi, Ms. Savannah, Ms. Maggie,” Luke greeted, removing a glove in order to shake hands with them.

  “Working hard?” Savannah asked.

  He nodded.

  “Good for you.”

  “And good for the cats,” Margaret added, smiling at the array of cats she could see in the feral cat pen. “They sure look healthy and happy.”

  “They should be,” Luke said. “Ms. June feeds them the best and Dr. Mike keeps a close eye on them.” He tilted his head. “So what brings you out here?”

  “They’re managing a colony of a couple of dozen cats,” Nola explained.

  “Where?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

  “The old seminary,” Margaret responded. When he looked confused, she explained, “It’s that abandoned building out where they’re constructing those new tract homes.”

  He shook his head. “I guess I’m not familiar with it. I’m kind of new to this area, having grown up in Mason.”

  Margaret winced. “We’re not all that familiar with what’s going on out there, either. We plan to take inventory today. Just wanted to make sure we have a place to bring the overflow of cats and kittens. Oh, and Luke, we may need your help with the trapping.” She nodded toward Savannah. “She can’t be doing any heavy lifting—you know, like of traps full of cats.”

  “Sure. Just let me know when. I’ll be glad to help.”

  Margaret put her hand on Savannah’s arm. “Well, we should get out there and see what we’re dealing with.”

  Savannah let out a sigh. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Nola smiled. “Well, good luck. I hope it’s a trouble-free transition for all the kitties. Let me know if I can help, will you?”

  “Sure,” Margaret said.

  Savannah waved. “Thanks. We’ll be in touch.”

  ****

  Later that Thursday morning in early March, Savannah and her Aunt Margaret took Rags home, then set out on their mission.

  “It sure is run-down.” Savannah noticed as they drove through the gate onto the seminary property. “Looks like it was abandoned an awfully long time ago.”

  “Yeah, by people, anyway.” Margaret looked around. “But I imagine there are a lot of spiders and other crawly things all over this place.”

  “And cats,” Savannah added. “You say around two dozen of them? Where do you suppose
they all came from?”

  “Most likely when the seminary was still operating, they brought in a few cats for rodent control and…”

  “Let me guess,” Savannah interrupted, “they allowed the poor cats to breed indiscriminately.” She asked, “Do you know if they’re being fed?”

  Margaret nodded. “Andy has been feeding them for years. But in recent months, it’s been only sporadically—you know, now and then.”

  Savannah frowned. “From the looks of that feeding station over there, it’s been a while since they were served a fresh meal.” She gazed at the structure. “Does the caretaker live here?”

  “He did up until a year or so ago, when he began to have some health issues. Andy’s now in an assisted living facility and he relies on others to bring him out here whenever he feels well enough. The investor has authorized Andy to relocate the cats. Of course, he isn’t up to doing the trapping himself and that’s why he came to Max for help.” She looked at her niece. “You know the rest of the story.”

  “Yeah, the gullible duo jump in with both feet,” Savannah said, laughing.

  “Pretty much.” Margaret squinted toward Savannah. “What does Michael say about your involvement in this?”

  “He’s not convinced it’s the best use of my time right now.”

  “What would he prefer you be doing? I mean, saving cats is certainly a noble cause.”

  Savannah nodded. “I know, but he’d rather see me safe at home, embroidering or standing over a hot stove canning fruit.”

  “Your orchard isn’t ready to pick, is it?”

  “Not quite. Unfortunately, most of the canning will take place in the heat of the summer, when I have two little ones to chase after instead of just one.”

  Margaret grinned. “The baby will be running around by then?”

  “Oh, you know what I mean. He’ll have his demands.” She snickered. “He is a male, after all.” Savannah faced her aunt. “Since Rob suggested I write Rags’s…um…memoirs, Michael would really rather see me working on that. And I am, in my spare time.”

  “So Rob is more than a producer of documentaries and children’s books? He also produces books for adults?” Margaret asked.

  Savannah shrugged. “I guess he moves in whatever direction seems to have the most potential. Don’t forget he gets a cut of the profit from the documentaries and books featuring Rags.”

  “Well, tell me about the book you’re writing.” Margaret grinned impishly. “Will it be in first-person…er…first-cat, an as-told-to, or will you write a full-blown biography?” Before Savannah could respond, Margaret added, “You’d better promote it as fiction, ’cause no one’s going to believe the things your cat does.”

  “No, Auntie. There actually is an audience for true animal stories. From what Rob tells me, these books are quite popular.” She nudged Margaret. “He thinks I could become a female James Herriot.”

  “Pshaw, Vannie, the only thing you have in common with Herriot is your veterinary credential.”

  Ignoring her aunt, Savannah twisted her hair into a loose knot on top of her head. “I think I’ll write it chronologically. Right now, I’m just jotting down the things I can remember about Rags’s adoption and my first days with him and some of the things he’s done over the years. I’ll interview people who knew him when we lived in Los Angeles. I’d like to interview you and Max too.”

  Margaret looked at her niece and shook her head, then took a breath and muttered,

  “Okay, where to start; where to start? Vannie, this is probably the largest colony I’ve dealt with in my career—that is my volunteer career.” She winced. “Two dozen cats and counting.” She added, “I’ve been involved with larger cat-hoarding situations, but that’s another animal altogether.”

  “And counting?” Savannah repeated.

  “Yes. As you can imagine, some of the cats out here are already loaded with their spring litter of kittens. And Andy believes that more cats have joined these in recent years, presumably from that older housing tract across the way. He told Max that the homes have become rather ramshackle and many of them are rentals. You know how that is—people come and go. Rentals can attract a rather nomadic group. He says some of the renters, when they move out, leave their cats behind. Naturally, those cats find their way over here.” She pointed. “Then there’s that new tract up on the hillside. Those residents are evidently complaining about the seminary cats.”

  Savannah glanced around the property. “They must be going outside of this compound to find food.”

  “Yes. I’m sure the cats took care of the rodent problem here long ago, and with Andy feeding only when he’s well enough, they’re out hunting and foraging elsewhere.” She grinned. “If I were one of these cats, I’d sure be looking for handouts at that upscale development.” She let out a sigh. “Okay, let’s walk around and see what we have here, okay?”

  Savannah looked at her watch. “Let’s do it. I have an hour.”

  “What happens in an hour, do you turn into a pumpkin?” Margaret laughed. “Actually, you already look like a pumpkin with that belly of yours.”

  Savannah rubbed her baby bump. “Yeah, I’m getting pretty round, but not as big as I was with Lily, do you think? I seem to be carrying this one differently. At least I’m not waddling yet. I don’t feel so awkward.”

  “You have what—two months to go?” Margaret asked as she pulled a clipboard out of the car.

  “Eleven weeks. Closer to three months.”

  Margaret stared at her niece for a moment, then hugged the clipboard to herself and said, “Let’s start over there, where it looks like Andy was feeding them.” She called over her shoulder, “Got your gloves?”

  Savannah nodded and followed after her. When she noticed her aunt stop at the feeding station, she said, “You’ve done a lot of these, haven’t you—I mean colony evaluations.”

  Margaret made a note on her pad, then responded. “Yes, and hoarding situations, abandoned cats—you name it—and I’ve seen it just in these past five or six years that I’ve been working with Max.” She shook her head disgustedly. “I just don’t know why some people won’t take responsibility for the cats they adopt or purchase or even happen to find. If you decide you no longer want a cat or you know of one that seems to be homeless, step up and take responsibility. Make sure the cat has a warm place to sleep, food in its tummy, and someone to love it. It’s the least we can do. But there seem to be two types of people—no three: those who love and take care of their cats, those who create problems for cats, and those who must scramble to help the cats. Know what I mean?”

  “Yes.” Savannah chuckled. “Auntie, what would you do with yourself if there were no needy cats?”

  Margaret frowned at her. “Huh? What would I do? There are many things I could be doing instead of scavenging around a filthy old building surrounded by ancient machinery and other debris, trying to round up cats.”

  “Name one thing,” Savannah challenged.

  Margaret stopped and thought for a moment before saying, “Oh Vannie that’s silly. I don’t have time to daydream right now. Come on, let’s get to work.”

  “Yeah, just as I thought,” Savannah said, grinning.

  “Okay, let’s pick up these crusty, rusted-out dishes.” Margaret pointed. “There’s a trash bin over there. I’ll place a few clean bowls here to mark the spot.” She stooped and peered into a crawl hole under the large building. “Then we’ll see if we can spot any cats.”

  “There’s one!” Savannah said.

  “Where?”

  “A dirty white one. It went under that wheelbarrow over there.”

  “One dirty white cat,” Margaret repeated, writing it down on her notepad. “Adult?” she asked.

  “Yes.” Savannah then said, “Oh, there are some cats peeking out from behind those shrubs.” She crouched and tried to entice them. “Here kitty-kitty.” She rattled a small bag of cat treats. “Want a treat? Come and get it.”

  “Hmmm,�
�� Margaret muttered, “they look interested. We actually might be able to get our hands on those tiger kitties.”

  “That would be nice.”

  “Let’s continue around the building,” Margaret suggested. “Then we’ll put down some food and water and observe them for a while. If we can make friends with any of them today, we’ll go ahead and take them to our shelter.”

  “Oh, there’s a bi-color adult—looks like a young adult. Uh-oh, I believe she’s with kittens.”

  Margaret cringed. “Now, that one we really want. Be on the lookout for the pregnant or lactating ones. We definitely want to rescue them—and any kittens—first.”

  “And sick ones.”

  “That’s the program,” Margaret said.

  Once the women had walked the perimeter of the building, they pulled two folding chairs out of the car and discretely prepared a few cat carriers.

  “So how many did you count, Auntie?” Savannah asked while unfolding her lawn chair and placing it in a sunny spot near where they’d noticed the greatest cat activity.

  Margaret referred to her pad. “Eight adults, including two intact males and two probably-pregnant females. We saw three teenagers—you know, around six or seven months old. They’re most likely from a fall litter.”

  “And many of them seem to be skittish—curious, but skittish,” Savannah observed. “We may be able to make friends with some of them. What do you think?”

  “Well, before we feed them, let’s see if we can lure some of them with those treats you brought. Go ahead and sprinkle a few in this clean bowl.” Margaret took a deep breath and faced her niece. “We may need to come out here after dark. Cats are nocturnal as you know—ferals, even more so.”

  “Yeah, I figured as much. Michael’s not going to be thrilled.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, he says this place has been a den of iniquity over the years.”

  Margaret squinted in Savannah’s direction. “What?”

  “He says evil takes place out here.”

  “It was a seminary and a church, for heaven’s sake.”

  Savannah looked confused. “You mean this wasn’t a biker-gang hangout and black market headquarters? You never heard any of that? I mean, June also sort of alluded to the fact that there was bad stuff going on out here.”