by Patricia Fry
“What’s that wire thing out there?” Michael asked.
“Cat pen,” Arthur responded quickly. “Well, it’s actually for their rabbits, but it’s elaborate enough, I thought I could convert it for cats and kittens.” He got excited. “I plan to build a cat run from the house. I don’t want them getting eaten by coyotes and other things that roam out here, but I want them to enjoy the out-of-doors.”
Savannah raised her eyebrows. “Cats? More than one?”
“Well yes,” Arthur said. “I… I mean, we plan to have lots of cats… rescues.”
Michael looked around the property. “Why not make it an overhead run? They can come out through a cat door up about there,” he motioned toward the house, “and tunnel through those trees, dropping down into that pen. Maybe build additional enclosures.”
Arthur and Suzette looked at each other. “That’s a good idea, Michael,” he said. “An above-ground tunnel.”
“But I’d construct it with wire—you know, chicken wire, then you can keep a closer eye on them and they can enjoy the sunshine.”
“Way cool. Thanks,” Arthur said. He then peered at Michael. “Wanna come out and help me build it?”
“Hey, you have enough money to hire a builder.”
He chuckled. “Oh yeah, I guess I do.”
Savannah abruptly pulled her phone from her pocket, announcing, “It’s Craig.” She walked away from the others before saying into the phone, “What’s up?”
“Just got Miriam out on bail.”
“Bail?” she said. “So they’re going to charge her with something?”
“Don’t know. It’s the pits that she’s the only one around now who can talk about what happened there thirty years ago.”
“Maybe not,” Savannah said.
“Huh?”
“There may be others. You know how people came out to the place and some of them had memories of experiences there. I mean, that’s how you found the butler and all… ”
“Hey yeah, about that butler. I found out something interesting this morning.”
“What?” she asked, crinkling her brow.
“Guess what profession he was in before he became connected to the madam?”
“I don’t know… ”
“Guess,” he said, playfully.
“Uh, gigolo? Children’s book writer?”
“Gigolo?” Craig said, laughing out loud.
“Well, I don’t know, what?” she demanded.
“Mortician.”
“Mortician!?” she exclaimed.
“Yeah, you know, he did embalming.”
“Oh my gosh. So he’s the one… ”
“Evidently so,” Craig said. “So where are you guys? Still out at Arthur’s ranch?
“Yes. We’re joining Peter and Rochelle for lunch; want to meet us?”
“Yeah, I could do that.” He hesitated. “I like your idea of advertising for accessories to the crimes… ”
“What?” she said.
“You know, people who knew what was going on in that place back then… ” He hesitated. “I’m going to stop at the newspaper office, then I’ll meet you all at Peter’s.”
****
Once the four couples had reunited at Peter’s art gallery, they began catching up on the events of the day.
“So are the authorities going out to the mansion today? I imagine it’s crawling with them this afternoon, right, Craig?” Savannah asked.
He nodded. “They’ll seal the room for now. It’s going to be a delicate removal process and they want to do it right—get the right people in to help. I’ve turned over all of the documents and items we found. It’s up to the correct authorities now to piece it all together.”
“Michael,” Peter said gravely, “every time I’m around you strange things happen. I think you’re jinxed, man.”
“Me?” Michael said. “Every time I’m around you, strange things happen. It’s gotta be on you, buddy.”
“Hey, let’s eat,” Arthur suggested.
“Yeah,” Peter said. “We’ll walk down to the Magnolia Lounge. Okay with everyone?”
“Can I get a beer there?” Craig asked.
“Sure can,” Peter said, slapping the detective on the back.
“Then count me in.”
“Take it easy there, cowboy,” Iris said, grabbing her husband’s arm. “I’m not going to drive through these city streets—uh-uh, no way.”
He smiled sweetly at her. “Just one… that’s all. Just one, babe. I’ve been working hard this morning.”
Iris shook her head, all the while grinning.
So what are your plans?” Craig asked the Iveys after they’d finished their late lunch.
“We’re going home tomorrow morning,” Michael said, emphatically.
Savannah smiled and nodded. “I’m so ready.” She ran her hand gently over Lily’s head as the baby sat in the high chair playing with a spoon. “I think she’s ready, too.”
“She’s pretty adaptable, if you ask me,” Peter said. “Seems to be happy wherever she is.”
Michael nodded. “Yes, she is pretty easy-going.”
“But we work hard at keeping her to a fairly reasonable schedule,” Savannah said. She looked at Craig and then Iris. “What about you guys?”
“Oh, I work pretty hard trying to keep Craig under control,” Iris said in jest.
Savannah laughed. “No, I mean when are you heading home?”
Craig grinned and shook his head. “We’ll probably be right behind you tomorrow morning.”
“Well, here’s to good friends and resolved… issues,” Arthur said, holding up his glass of milk toward the others.
“Hear, hear,” Michael said, lifting his iced tea, as the others all chimed in.
“May our paths cross again soon,” Peter said. He grinned and added, “… under more delightful circumstances.”
****
It was nearly dark when the Ivey family and Arthur and Suzette climbed into the Iveys’ SUV and headed back to the mansion grounds. Craig and Iris had one stop to make before following along.
“Arthur, your place will probably be wrapped up like a Christmas present with all that yellow tape,” Michael quipped.
“I still can’t believe what we discovered down in the gut of that place,” Arthur mumbled.
Michael shook his head. “Yeah, it was grisly, all right.”
“I’ll be lucky if I don’t have night-screams of my own,” Savannah said, laughing nervously.
As they drew nearer, Savannah, who sat in the front seat with Michael, said, “Gosh, is the moon out tonight?”
Arthur and Suzette were almost asleep in the backseat next to Lily, who was sleeping in her car seat. “Where?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.
“See that glow?” she said. “Looks like the moon’s coming up right behind the mansion.”
“Savannah,” Arthur said. “I don’t think that’s the moon. It’s too bright.” He squinted in the direction they were moving and said, “I’ll bet the cops have it all lit up. That’s probably it.”
“Yeah, I imagine you’re right,” she said.
Suddenly, Michael said, “What the… ” he gasped. “It’s on fire. That’s fire!” He stepped on the gas and began speeding toward the flames which had clearly come into view.
“My God,” Arthur said, sitting up and staring out the windshield. He then said under his breath, “Koko!” He shouted, “Hurry, Michael! The cats may be in danger.”
Savannah grabbed her husband’s arm. “Oh no,” she said, staring ahead. “Oh no! Are the bungalows involved? Please don’t let the bungalows be on fire. Please, please,” she said, her hands up to her mouth.
“I can’t see over that hump,” Michael said impatiently. “We’ll know in a second.”
As the car traveled quickly up the small incline, the two couples could see the structure. Not only were flames pouring from the west side of the mansion, the nearest bungalow was also engulfed.
“My
God! Rags!” Savannah cried.
“Koko!” Arthur shouted. “We’ve got to get them out. Hurry, Michael.”
“Good Lord. It’s too risky. No, Arthur, I can’t let you go in there. I’m sorry,” Michael said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I… I’m so sorry.”
Arthur put his head in his hands. “Koko—my little Koko. And Rags. Oh God, no.” Suzette held him in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Savannah tried, but could not hold back her emotions. “This is horrible… I’m just… sick,” she said, shaking her head slowly, tears rolling down her face.
Michael pulled her to him and held her tightly as he edged his phone out of his pocket and started to dial 9.1.1. “Oh, here they come. I hear the fire engines behind us,” he said, quickly steering the car off to the side of the road. “Wait!” Michael said, looking straight ahead. He pointed. “Is that a cat?” He jumped out of the car and shouted, “Arthur, see that cat?” He squinted into the darkness. “I think it’s Koko. Come here, girl,” he called.
“Rags?” Savannah shrieked.
Arthur opened the car door and ran out toward the lone Siamese. He reached down and lifted her into his arms, burying his face in her fur as he rushed back to the car with her.
In the meantime, Savannah stepped out of the car and joined Michael. She petted Koko as Arthur walked past with her and continued peering into the distance, straining to spot Rags.
At that moment, the fire captain approached the two couples. Savannah hurried toward him, shouting, “Our cat’s in that first bungalow there! Please, save him,” she pleaded.
The captain glanced in that direction, then looked down. “I’m sorry ma’am,” he said. “There’s no way… I am sorry.” As Michael comforted Savannah, enveloping her in a bear hug, the captain asked him, “Are you the owner?”
“I am,” Arthur said, stepping back out of the car and closing the door so Koko couldn’t escape. Suzette climbed out after Arthur.
The captain looked Arthur up and down, then glanced at Michael. “I’m not sure we can save it, sir. It’s pretty well consumed.”
Arthur stared at the burning mansion. “Good riddance,” he said under his breath.
The captain looked at him and questioned, “Sir?”
“I don’t think any amount of salt or sage would clear the evil from that place. Let it burn!” Arthur said without emotion.
Savannah continued to stare toward the bungalows, feeling sick in the pit of her stomach, then her eyes wandered for a moment in the direction of the mansion. Suddenly she lurched forward. “Rags!” she shouted. “Michael, Rags just came out the front door. That’s Rags, isn’t it… in front of the mansion?”
“By golly, it is him. What’s he doing?” Michael asked.
“Rags!” Savannah shouted again. She turned back toward the car to peer at Lily.
“She’s sleeping. She’s fine. Go,” Suzette said, tears welling in her eyes.
Savannah and Michael trotted toward the mansion, keeping their eye on the cat as threads of smoke wafted to and fro in front of them. Just then a fireman spotted the cat and headed toward him, but Rags quickly ran back inside.
“What in the heck is he doing?” Michael asked, running his hand through his hair.
Savannah held her breath. “Why would he go in there… unless… ”
“Unless what, ma’am?” the fire captain, who had been walking along with them, asked.
“Follow him!” she shouted. “He wants you to follow him. There must be someone inside.”
“Are you sure, ma’am?” he asked.
“Yes, he would not go back in unless there was a reason. Someone’s in there, I tell you!”
The fire captain shook his head and then moved swiftly toward the burning structure. Savannah and Michael watched as he helped two firemen climb into protective gear and enter the mansion through the broken-out front door.
“Stand back folks,” the captain said upon rejoining Savannah and Michael. He looked up. “Debris could fall from those turrets as they burn.” Just then, a couple of law enforcement officers began cordoning off the area and insisted that the anxious couple move on the other side of it.
Savannah glanced back at their car occasionally, to make sure Suzette and Arthur were sticking close to their sleeping baby. She grabbed Michael’s arm. “They’ve been gone for so long.” Barely able to breathe, she couldn’t bear to look and she couldn’t bear not to. All she wanted was to see Rags come out through that door unharmed.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she screeched, “Here they come—they have someone. Who is that? Where’s Rags?”
Arthur rushed up behind them. “Look!” he shouted. “The fireman has Rags. He’s giving him oxygen.”
“He’s not moving,” she said quietly, her voice growing raspy from the smoke and stress. She couldn’t stand still. “Rags, come on,” she said, balancing on one foot and then the other, wanting to rush to him but being held back by authorities. Just when she thought she’d faint from fear and anxiety, the fire captain said, “Wait here, I’ll go check on him.”
Meow. Meow. Savannah turned toward the sound and saw that Koko was draped over Arthur’s shoulders. When she reached out to pet the Siamese beauty, the cat jumped to the ground and ran as fast as she could toward the triage spot, which was a safe distance from the massive blaze. When she reached Rags, she stood over him, meowing. She looked at the fireman and then back at her feline buddy, meowing again. Within a few moments, Rags began to stir and Koko promptly head-butted him.
“He’s moving,” Savannah said when she saw Rags raise his head and then lay it back down.
When the captain returned, he said, “Looks like your cat’s going to be just fine. You might have your vet take a look at him.”
Michael and Savannah exchanged looks. “We are veterinarians,” he said. “Can I go to him?”
The captain looked surprised for a moment, then he nodded.
Arthur shouted back at Suzette, who was staying close to where Lily slept in the car. “Rags is okay!”
She clasped her hands in front of her chest and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Who is that you brought out of there?” Arthur asked the fire captain as he walked with the others toward Rags.
“Don’t know her name; she says her grandmother was in there. She wanted to save her grandmother.”
“Miriam,” Savannah said.
“Miriam?” he asked.
“She lived here as a child with her grandmother,” Savannah explained.
He looked panicked for a moment. “So is her grandmother still inside?” he asked.
“Uh, well, that’s a hard question to answer, sir,” Arthur said, grinning a little.
When the fireman seemed concerned, Savannah said, “She’s there in spirit, I guess you might say.”
“Oh,” he said, now looking confused.
Michael reached Rags first and quickly examined him, then carefully picked him up, scooped up Koko in the other arm, and walked with both of them back to the car.
“It doesn’t look like we can save it, sir,” the fire captain said again
Arthur shook his head. “Let it burn. Let the spirits finally rest.”
“Sure,” she said, only slightly reluctantly.
Chapter 11
A few minutes later as the two couples stood next to the car watching the fire from a safer distance, Michael holding sleeping Lily in his arms, Craig and Iris drove up.
“Good God,” Craig said, joining the others.
“Wow! What a sight,” Iris added.
Just then, Craig looked to the left of the burning mansion. Without a word, he sprinted off in that direction. “What’s he doing?” Savannah asked.
Michael turned just in time to see that the detective was chasing someone. Michael handed the baby to Savannah and ran after Craig into the darkness. When Michael caught up to him, Craig had things under control. The detective was marching a man back toward the polic
e car, his hands cuffed behind his back.
“Good thing he’s a decade or so older than me,” Craig said, huffing and puffing a little. “I might not have been able to catch him.”
“Let me go! Let me go!” the man hollered. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Shut up,” Craig snapped.
“What do we have here?” another police officer on the scene asked.
“I believe this is our arsonist,” Craig explained.
“No I’m not—I live down the street, just came up to see what’s going on.”
“A looky-loo, huh?” Craig said, sarcastically. “Then why did you run like a scared rabbit?”
“Because you were chasing me.”
“We’ll decide,” the policeman said. He sniffed the air, frowned, and said, “Been siphoning gas lately?”
“Huh?” the man said.
The officer stared him in the eyes. “You smell like gasoline, sir. What’s your name?”
“Uh, Johnny Mitchell.”
“Do you have ID?”
“No. I left it at home on my dresser—down the road there. Just walked up to see the flames.”
The officer patted the man down, put him in the patrol car, then asked Craig, “Where was he heading, do you know?”
Craig motioned across a field to the northeast. “My guess is he has a car parked out that way somewhere.”
At that, the officer nodded to a couple of younger officers, who immediately headed that direction.
In the meantime, Craig peered toward the mansion. “Anyone got marshmallows?” he quipped. He then squinted. “Who’s that they have on the ground, there? Was someone inside?”
“Yeah,” Savannah said. “Miriam. Rags saved her.”
Craig looked at Savannah, disbelieving. He turned toward the other officer and said, “Hey, I have an idea. Let’s take that guy over to that woman there. I think she can identify him.”
As they drew nearer to where Miriam rested on a grassy expanse, bundled in one of the firemen’s jackets, the man began to balk. “No, let me go,” he said, resisting the officer and Craig with all of his seventy-year-old might. But they continued to push him along until they were standing in front of Miriam.
“Hi Miriam,” Craig said, kneeling down near her. “How are you feeling? I hear you had a close call.”
