The Purrfect Lie (Klepto Cat Mystery Book 12)

by Patricia Fry

  Just then, Deputy Jim walked toward the guests. “Sorry to disturb your gathering,” he said to Michael. “I’d like to ask a few questions. Who found Mrs. Crankshaw?”

  “I did,” Suzette said. “…well, Arthur and I and Colbi, actually.”

  Jim glanced at Michael and Savannah. “Is there someplace where we can talk?”

  Savannah nodded. “Sure, just make yourself comfortable up there on the porch—or go on in the kitchen, it you want. We’ll serve the cake down here.” She then asked, concern in her voice, “How is Lenore? It looked as if she was on her way over here with a little gift for Lily’s birthday when she…,” her voice trailed off.

  The deputy stared out toward the ambulance as it edged its way out of the Crankshaw’s driveway. “Not good. This may, in fact, turn into a murder investigation.”

  Chapter 6

  “Have you heard anything more about Lenore’s condition?” Michael asked over breakfast the following Monday morning.

  Savannah shook her head. “She’s in a coma. They’re calling her condition grave. There’s still the question of possible foul play. They don’t know if she fainted from dehydration and hit her head or if she was attacked. Evidently, no one here at the party saw anything.”

  “Well, she was kind of hidden from view. She probably headed over here about the time everyone was crowded around you getting their treasure maps.”

  “Yes, that’s what I thought. I just hope she wakes up and can tell authorities what happened.”

  He took her hand. “So how are you feeling after our big weekend? You must be exhausted.”

  “Other than that one awful…incident, it was a fabulous weekend. I’m so glad we did it and that the weather cooperated. It was chilly by summer standards, but sweater-perfect.” She leaned, elbows on the table, her chin in her palms. “I already miss everyone.”

  “You’ll be staying in touch with your cousins, right?”

  “Yes.” Her face brightened. “It will be wonderful to communicate with them more often. Wasn’t Jimmy’s and Belinda’s baby adorable?”

  “Yes,” Michael said. “Made me want another one.”

  “That’s my phone,” Savannah said, leaving the table to retrieve it. “Hi Auntie. Are you and Max back to normal after our wild weekend?”

  “Wasn’t it great? I had such a good time catching up with my sisters and some of my nieces and nephews. Did you know we called your Uncle Ray while we were all together and talked to him and his wife?”

  “Yes, Mom told me. I think everyone will have happy memories of Lily’s first birthday for a long time.”

  “Oh yes.” Margaret paused. “Hey, I was talking to Craig Saturday about the abduction and he said they don’t have any leads. He says he’s pretty certain this girl didn’t go missing from here. Now that things have calmed down, I’m wondering if we should check old newspapers in other areas.”

  “Gosh, it may have happened in another state or another country, for that matter. That could be an endless task.”

  “Well, if you’re not up to it, then…”

  “Wait,” Savannah said, “I didn’t say that. I’m as curious about this as you are. I’m just wondering if we’d be wasting a lot of time running around to other cities looking for clues. And there’s the fact that we don’t know if this little girl is twenty-five now or fifty…was he twenty when he took the child or sixty? …was it in the seventies that he took her or the nineties? But, hey, it could be…interesting. I’m game if you are. Not today, though. I have plans.”

  “Oh, something more fun than hanging out with me?”

  “Of course not, Auntie. It’s for Lily. It’s a playdate. We’re going over to Straley for a picnic with Mary and Crissy.”

  “Who?”

  “You know, the woman I met at the party store with the little girl Lily’s age.”

  “Oh yeah. Didn’t you invite her to the party?”

  “Yes, I did. They had other plans. Hey, gotta go. When do you want to check out the missing persons and where?”

  “Let me think about it. I’ll devise a plan.”

  “Okay.”

  ****

  “The sun feels good. I’m glad the wind died down,” Savannah said once they had arrived at the little park near Mary’s house.

  “Yes, it really whipped all night,” Mary said, pulling out a large quilt. “What did you bring for lunch?”

  Savannah grabbed one end of the quilt. “Egg-salad sandwiches and fruit. Lily loves egg salad and just about any fruit. I also took some of my jelly-filled cookies out of the freezer to share.”

  “Sounds delicious. You bake?”

  “Yeah, quite a bit. The fruit is from our orchard. I canned it over the summer.”

  “Wow! You are Dolly Domestic, aren’t you? Did your mother teach you how to do all that stuff?” Mary asked as she pulled a couple of toys out of a tote bag.

  “Yeah. Plus, when you find yourself living with an orchard on your property, you kind of have an obligation to use the gifts,” Savannah explained.

  “Gifts?”

  “You know, the fruit.”

  “Oh yes. I get it.”

  Savannah looked at Mary. “Do you like to bake and cook?”

  “Actually, baking is one of my hobbies. I’m self-taught. It’s just one of those things I love doing…like my art.” She then said, “Oh, wait, I almost forgot. Crissy has a little something for the birthday girl.”

  “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” Savannah protested.

  “We wanted to. I hope she’ll enjoy it—eventually.”

  Savannah frowned. “Eventually?”

  “Yes, you may enjoy it more now,” Mary said, laughing. She put a small gift in her daughter’s hands and told her, “Give it to Lily.” She walked Crissy toward Lily and repeated, “Give Lily her present.”

  Before Mary could react, Lily took one look at the package in Crissy’s hands and reached for it. Crissy wasn’t about to turn loose, and a tug-of-war ensued. Within a few moments, the wrapping tore and the children were each left holding a handful of tissue paper.

  “Ki-ki,” Lily said, squatting down and looking into the eyes of the Himalayan cat that had been hand-painted on a wooden plaque. “Ki-ki,” she repeated.

  Savannah kneeled next to Lily and picked the gift up off the ground. “It sure is a ki-ki, isn’t it, honey. It’s beautiful, Mary,” Savannah gushed, studying it more closely. “Hey, it looks just like Buffy.”

  “I hope so,” Mary said, smiling. “I copied it from a photo I took of her at your house last week.”

  “Oh my gosh, you are good,” she said standing. She hugged Mary. “This is gorgeous. Thank you.” She then leaned over and hugged Crissy, kissing her on the cheek. “Tell Crissy thank you, Lily. Can you give Crissy a hug?”

  The two women smiled as Lily wrapped her arms around Crissy, almost knocking her off her feet.

  “This will hang in Lily’s room forever,” Savannah said. “She’ll never outgrow it.”

  “That was my intent. I hope she likes it.”

  Savannah studied her friend for a moment, then asked, “Do you happen to be a Gemini?”

  Mary looked askance. “No, why?” she asked.

  Savannah frowned. “Really? Um…well, your art…Geminis are supposed to be creative, so I thought…”

  Mary smiled. “No, I’m a Taurus…May tenth.”

  “Oh,” Savannah said, suddenly caught up in her own thoughts. When she saw Mary scattering toys on the quilt to keep the kids entertained, she rushed to help. “So what did you bring for lunch?” she asked.

  “Something my dad used to fix me when I was a kid. It’s a veggie and macaroni medley.” She laughed. “He’d serve it warm on cold nights, but I like it cold—like a salad. Crissy likes some of the veggies and pasta. I packed a yogurt, in case she’s in the mood for that.”

  “I know what you mean about being in the mood,” Savannah said, placing some of Lily’s toys on t
he blanket and setting her down next to Crissy. “Now you share, Lily,” she scolded.

  Once the children were engaged in play, the two women sat in beach chairs near them and Savannah initiated the conversation. “So tell me about your parents. They must adore Crissy. Do they like being grandparents as much as my mom does?”

  Mary took a breath and looked down at her daughter. “I didn’t know my mother. My father raised me.” She leaned toward Savannah. “You know, he was an older dad and not all that well. He died while I was still in college.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, and I sure do miss him now that we have Crissy.” She looked at Savannah. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, I have the most wonderful husband and we just adore our little girl, but I yearn sometimes to share it all with my dad.”

  Savannah got up out of her chair and retrieved a toy Lily had tossed into the grass, checked her diaper, and then sat back down. “So you don’t have any family?”

  “No. No one. And neither does my husband, if you can believe it. We’re both…orphans.” She looked at Savannah. “Do you have family? Well, I met your aunt, right. That was your aunt?”

  “Yes, Aunt Margaret.” Savannah chuckled. “Oh, we have family, all right. We just celebrated Lily’s birthday with oodles of them.” Her smile faded. “My dad is gone now and I sure do miss him, so I know that feeling of loss.” She looked up into the sky. “How he would have loved meeting his granddaughter.”

  “How do you know he didn’t?” Mary asked, quietly.

  Savannah tilted her head as if confused. “Huh?”

  “Maybe they met on the other side before she came to you. Maybe he hand-picked her for you.”

  Savannah stared at Mary for a moment, then she smiled. “What a beautiful thought. I love it. Is that how you feel about your dad? Is that how you keep from being sad?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, it helps.” She reached toward her baby and said, “Crissy Mullen Rice, shame on you.”

  “What did she do?” Savannah asked.

  “She threw that toy at Lily.”

  “Oh, I don’t think it hurt her. She’s fine.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want her to be a bully.” Mary addressed the child again, “No, no.”

  “No-no,” Crissy mimicked.

  Both women tried to hide their laughter.

  All of a sudden, Savannah stood and raced after Lily, who had toddled off toward the swings. “Want to swing, Lily?” She turned to Mary. “There are two baby swings. Would Crissy like to swing?”

  “Sure,” Mary said, standing up and walking with her daughter to the swing set.

  Once they had the girls secure and they began pushing them ever so slowly in the swings, Savannah said. “I like your scenario. Thanks for sharing that. To think that Dad met Lily and even chose her for us is comforting.”

  “It’s all I have.” She tipped her head and said, “Well, I have friends. But most of them have no children or their children are older. I’m so glad to have met you, Savannah, and you, Lily,” she said, patting the baby as she swung past her.

  The women had been quiet for a few moments when Mary said, “Savannah, since we’re on the subject, could I share something else with you? I don’t know why I feel like I can open up with you, but it feels good. Women need good friends, don’t you think?”

  “Oh yes,” Savannah said. “I don’t know what I’d do without my girlfriends, and that includes my aunt. She and I have a lot of fun together.” She looked at Mary. “What is it you want to share?”

  “Well, I don’t quite know what it means, but my deep sadness didn’t actually start when my dad died. I’ve felt it all my life. Of course, I kept it buried as much as I could. I always figured it was my mommy-loss—that I missed my mom or missed having one.”

  “You never knew her?” Savannah asked.

  “No. She died in childbirth.” She faced Savannah. “It could be mommy-loss, I don’t know…but for as long as I can remember, I’ve felt this underlying sadness as if something crucial to me is missing. Know what I mean?”

  “I think so,” Savannah said. “I experienced something that’s maybe similar when Lily was born. It was like I was finally complete. I didn’t know I’d had an empty spot. I didn’t feel like I was missing anything. But when I was carrying her and we were bonding, even before she was born, I felt as if I’d finally found an essential part of myself that had been missing.”

  “Then you do know what I’m talking about.”

  “I think so—at least to a degree.” She tilted her head and said, “Uh-oh, someone’s getting cranky. Lily didn’t eat much breakfast; she’s probably hungry. Shall we eat?”

  “Yeah, let’s do. Come on Crissy, let’s have some of Papa’s special dish.”

  ****

  That evening over dinner, Michael asked, “So did Lily have a good time with her new friend? What’s her name?”

  “Crissy. Oh yes, they enjoyed playing with each other’s toys and swinging…”

  “You put her in a swing?”

  “Well, yeah, they have baby swings at most playgrounds now. She loved it.” Savannah dished up a spatula full of lasagna. “The girls didn’t interact very much; they kind of played side by side. It’s interesting to compare Lily with another child her age. It seems that her development is right on track. Although she’s a little more daring than Crissy.”

  “Daring? What did she do?”

  “Oh, you know, she was eager to walk off by herself.”

  “You didn’t let her…”

  Savannah laughed. “No, Michael. You know what it’s like with her. You spend a lot of time chasing after her.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, Crissy sat and played more contentedly. She wasn’t quite as busy as Lily is. But they were both very good girls—agreeable. Easy to entertain. You should have seen them when I sang to them—Crissy got a big kick out of, Itsy Bitsy Spider. Very cute.”

  Michael smiled. “So do you think you’ll meet with them again?”

  “Yes. We already have a date set up. She’s coming here next time.” Savannah was silent for a moment, then she said, “You know, there is just something haunting about Mary. I mean, I like her and all, but something about her and her past…well, it…”

  Just then, her phone rang. She looked at Michael. “How does he always seem to know when we’re eating dinner?” She laughed and then took the call. “Hi Craig.”

  “Did I catch you in the middle of dinner?”

  “Oh, no,” she lied.

  “Well, I have a bead on that guy who lived in Maggie’s basement. I think he was Keith Mullen. Ever hear of him?”

  Savannah shook her head. “He used other names over the years, Ken Buchanan, Mike Cullen, but his real name was Keith Mullen.”

  ****

  It was seven thirty the next morning when Savannah called Margaret. “Auntie, I’m sorry to call so early, but I just had to talk to you.”

  “What is it? Is the baby sick?”

  “Oh no. She’s fine.”

  “How was your playdate yesterday?” Margaret asked.

  “A lot of fun…and that’s sorta what I’m calling about. I talked to Craig last night and he told me the name of the man who used to live in your basement.”

  “Did you know him?”

  “No. Maybe you did—his name was Keith Mullen.”

  “Nooo. I don’t remember that name.”

  “Auntie, what I want to talk to you about is…”

  “Oh, wait. Max needs me out in the cat room. Can I call you back?”

  “Sure. Don’t forget, now.”

  “I won’t forget. I’ll call you in a bit.”

  “Who was that on the phone so early?” Michael asked, entering the kitchen.

  “Auntie,” she said as she placed a platter of French toast on the table. “Want an egg?”

  Michael shook his head. “Just fruit and this great-looking toast with your apricot jam. Do we have any more
apricot jam?”

  Savannah chuckled. “Yes, right there at your elbow.” She had just lifted Lily from her high chair and placed her on the floor when her phone rang. “It’s Auntie,” she muttered, putting the phone up to her ear. “Everything okay out in the cattery?”

  “Yeah. Max just needed me to hold one of the kittens while he administered some medication. So what’s up?”

  “Well, as I told you, the guy’s name was Keith Mullen, and would you believe…” Just then Savannah heard Lily screech. She spun around, asking Michael, “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, Buffy slapped her and she didn’t like it. She’s okay,” Michael said as he examined the baby’s hand. “I think she cornered Buffy and the cat gave her a warning slap. I don’t see where any claws got her.”

  “Ma-ma,” Lily said pitifully through her tears. She reached her little hands out to Savannah.

  “Auntie, can I call you back? We have a situation here.”

  “What happened?” she asked. “I hear Lily crying.”

  “Nothing serious. I think it’s a case of hurt feelings.”

  Once Lily had settled down, Savannah tried the phone call to her aunt once again. “Hi. Let’s hope there are no more interruptions. What I wanted to share with you is that I think baby Crissy’s middle name is Mullen. I’m pretty sure I heard Mary call her Crissy Mullen Rice.”

  “Sooo?” Margaret said.

  “Mary told me she was raised by her dad and her mother died in childbirth. I just wonder…”

  “Wonder what?” Margaret asked impatiently.

  “Well, like I told you, the man whose letter we found, his name was Keith Mullen and Crissy’s middle name is Mullen.”

  “Oh Vannie, you have the wildest imagination. What are the odds of your new friend being the abducted girl he mentioned in his letter?” She paused and added, “You know how when you buy a red convertible, all you notice on the road after that are red convertibles?”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Or you start dating a man with a moustache and everywhere you look, there’s a man wearing a moustache,” Margaret continued. “It’s like your mind wakes up to something and that’s all you notice after that.”