Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 04 - Undercover Cat

by Patricia Fry

  Bud stood there for a few seconds longer and then said, “Well, I’d better go do my rounds.”

  “Bud, you’re a veterinarian now; you don’t have to do the early morning stuff. Lisa and the new guy, Spence, can do that for you.”

  “Yeah, I know—old habits are hard to break, I guess.” He turned toward his motorbike. “See ya later, Dr, Mike…Savannah.” The Iveys waved and then ambled toward the porch with Lexie jumping and dancing around them.

  “Oh, that’s my cell,” Savannah said as they walked up the steps. “It’s Iris—why is she calling so early?”

  “Answer it and see,” Michael suggested as he darted in the front door and off down the hallway to finish getting ready for work.

  In a few minutes, Savannah rushed toward the bedroom. “Michael, Michael!” she called.

  “What?” he asked as he stepped out of the bathroom, a can of shaving cream in one hand. “They found Colbi. She’s safe,” Savannah said, tears streaming down her face.

  “Really? That’s great news,” he said.

  “She’s going to be in the hospital for a day or so. She was dehydrated and practically starved, from the sounds of it. And she almost burned to death; suffered from smoke inhalation.” She choked up. “It must have been horrible for her.”

  “Who took her? Where was she?”

  “Oh, interesting story, hon. It was those cat hoarders Auntie and I visited that day—the authorities found Colbi from the address on the card Rags had.” She hesitated. “Only they didn’t catch the creeps. They got away.” She tightened her lips into a thin line and said with determination, “But they’ll get them, I’m sure of it.”

  “Rags did it again, huh? Boy is he an asset to law enforcement in this county. He ought to open his own private-eye business, don’t you think?”

  “Oh Michael, you’re silly.”

  He walked over and kissed her. “Well, you’re beautiful.”

  Savannah smiled. “Oh!” she said, sounding startled.

  “What?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Didn’t you feel that? The baby just kicked. I guess he’s happy, too.”

  “Doing a little football practice in there, huh?”

  “Yeah, or a pirouette.”

  “A what?”

  “Ballet.”

  “I hope he doesn’t want to do ballet,” he said.

  “But she might.”

  “Oh yeah—a girly thing.”

  “Or she might want to play football.”

  “Do you think so?” he asked. “Do girls do that?”

  “Sure, some girls do.”

  Michael put his hands on Savannah’s bulging stomach and felt around for activity. “Guess he went back to sleep,” he said. He started to return to the bathroom, but stopped and said, “Hey hon, I forgot to tell you. I got up in the night to get an antacid and…”

  “My dinner made you sick?”

  “Ah, no. Just ate too much I think, and had two glasses of wine, if you’ll remember.”

  “I remember.”

  “Anyway, I stepped out on the porch and looked over toward the Tindle place and I saw something.”

  Savannah perked up. “You did? So Michael, what did you see? What do you think is going on?”

  “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “It’s a mystery to me. But like you and Brianna described, I saw movement—almost ghost-like movement and light. I darn near decided to walk over there, but figured it was actually none of my business what goes on at old man Tindle’s place.” He looked at his watch, then walked back into the bathroom and prepared to shave. Savannah followed him.

  “It’s just strange to see any activity at their house so late at night,” she said. “What time was it when you saw it?’

  “Right around one thirty,” he said picking up his razor. “Isn’t that when you’ve been seeing it?”

  “Yeah, one or two o’clock.” She leaned against the vanity. “You know, I was talking to Antonio yesterday and he said he’s noticed more varmint activity around the place lately.”

  “Really? Why is that, do you think?” he asked between razor strokes.

  “I don’t know. Antonio doesn’t know. He just said he’s finding more dens and holes and damage.”

  “Damage?”

  “Something’s been disturbing his winter veggie garden out there. He said something has been digging in the lawn—making quite a mess.”

  “Well that’s odd. We’ve never had much trouble with vermin or varmints, have we?”

  “No, not to this degree, I guess.”

  Michael rinsed his razor and wiped the remaining shaving cream from his face before heading into the bedroom. He glanced back at Savannah. “What’s for breakfast?”

  “Berry cobbler?” she suggested as she joined him in the bedroom.

  He smiled over at her. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  As Michael sat down on the chair, took off his slippers, and began putting on his sport shoes, Savannah walked over and picked up Buffy from her canopy bed. She held the petite cat in her arms. “You are so yummy,” she murmured to the little Himalayan mix. “And soft and sweet. Wanna have some breakfast?” she asked into the cat’s fur.

  Just then the door pushed open wider and Rags entered the room. “Prrrrrrt,” he said as he bumped his head into Michael’s hands, then he batted at one of his shoelaces. Buffy stared down at the other cat from Savannah’s arms.

  “I know one cat that’s hungry,” she said, also looking at Rags.

  He walked over and stretched his paws up toward Buffy, reaching as far as he could up Savannah’s legs.

  “Well, let’s go eat, guys,” Savannah said as she eased Rags back to the floor with one hand and led the way, carrying Buffy, into the kitchen.

  Once the animals were fed, she looked at Michael, who sat at the table eating a bowl of cobbler. She sat down across from him and said, “You know, I’ve been thinking about Colbi. She’ll probably need time to recuperate once she’s out of the hospital and she has no family, except, I think, an uncle in Missouri. How do you feel about us offering her a place to stay here for a few days—or as long as she wants—until she feels like going back home?”

  “Honey, I think that would be really nice of you. Sure, if you want do to that—if you’re up to it—it’s a-okay with me.”

  “I think I’ll drive over to the hospital tomorrow and let her know she’s welcome.”

  ***

  Later that evening, Damon walked through the door of his mother’s home. “Damon, honey, how is she?”

  “Hi Mom, Craig. Doing better, I think.” Damon smiled from one to the other as they sat together on the sofa in the living room. “She’s weak and her voice sounds like a frog after all of that smoke she inhaled. They have her on all sorts of machines and treatments—oxygen therapy…I think she’s doing pretty good under the circumstances.”

  “It was a close call,” Craig said, shaking his head.

  “Yeah. Sure was,” Damon said. “Any word about those two lunatics that took her?”

  “Not yet, but we’ll get ’em. You can bet on it.”

  “I’d sure like to get my licks in once you do,” he said, running one hand through his hair.

  “Did you notice your cat?” Iris asked with a smile.

  “My cat? Where is she?”

  “Look over in Willie’s bed.”

  Damon turned, took a few steps, then broke out in a wide grin. “Well, I’ll be,” he said as he walked over to pet the family dog and the green-eyed tabby who was sharing his bed with him. He spun around toward Craig. “What happened with all of those cats in that house?” he asked.

  Craig winced and said, “I ended up with four of ’em in my car. Took them over to the shelter. They were going to send someone out to the neighborhood this morning to set traps for the others.”

  “Traps?”

  “Humane traps,” he said with a grin.

  “Oh.” Damon nodded.

  “They’ll
have to euthanize some of the cats, you know,” Craig said. “Those people had no business taking in even one, let alone a dozen or more cats. According to the folks at the shelter, some of the cats are sick.” He leaned forward from his seat on the sofa and rested his arms on his knees. You know, most cat hoarders actually start out liking cats—in fact, so much so that they want to do everything they can to help them. So they bring them home. They either don’t understand the concept of neutering them or they can’t afford to, so they end up with five or six times as many cats as they started with. Soon, they’re overwhelmed and can’t properly care for the animals.”

  Iris pulled back from Craig and stared at him through eye slits. “Since when did you become a cat person?”

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he teased.

  “Really?”

  “Actually, a gal at animal control clued me in this morning when I took the cats in there.” He frowned. “One of those cats did a number in my car—I think it was number one—but whew, what an odor! I’m borrowing a car tonight; mine’s with the detail people.”

  “Did the house burn to the ground?” Iris asked.

  “Darn near,” Craig said. “Most of what didn’t burn was water damaged.” He looked over at Damon. “It’ll take a while before we know if we have any incriminating evidence against them. According to the gal at the shelter, they weren’t your typical hoarders. They were most likely extorting money from innocent cat lovers by claiming they were running a legitimate cat-rescue facility. They needed the cats so they could take pictures and videos of themselves caring for the cats and pleading for money to help little Fluffy or Tuffy with an expensive operation or for food.”

  Damon sat down on the edge of a straight back chair. “I think that’s the scam Colbi was going to expose in her story,” he said.

  “Yeah, she was working with the people at the shelter. They were hoping to shut these crooks down, which is probably why they grabbed Colbi—to gag her.”

  “People really send money to someone they don’t even know?” Iris asked.

  Craig nodded. “Yes, apparently they do. Some people can be real convincing and we’re a gullible society. These two will set up another scam, maybe involving cats, maybe something else. We will find them.”

  “I hope so,” Damon said.

  ***

  Early the next morning, Damon awoke with a start. What the devil was that? He reached over and turned on the bedside lamp in time to see his feline house guest leaping and rolling around on top of him. “Oh, it’s you, is it?” he said with a snarl. But he couldn’t stay angry for long. The kitten’s antics were too entertaining. Damon absently moved one of his hands and Dolly pounced on it with an exuberance he had never seen in an animal. “What do you think you’re doing, little one?” he said. Before he knew it, he was baiting the kitten—moving his hand in a tantalizing fashion under the covers and watching Dolly react using all of her keen cat-like senses. “Boy, you’re fast, aren’t you?” he said with a laugh.

  “Damon? Everything okay in there?” Iris called.

  “Yeah. Come watch this,” he invited.

  Iris opened the door slowly and saw Damon propped up on one elbow playing with the energetic kitten and they both began to laugh.

  “What a cutie,” Iris said. “Talk about entertainment value…”

  “Yeah, she is a kick. I didn’t know kittens were so much fun,” Damon said still laughing.

  He then looked at his clock and said, “Well, I have things to do and people to see, little one. Gotta go. How about we play some more when I come home tonight?” He picked up the kitten, who squirmed in his hands, and snuggled her to his face for a moment before putting her back on the bed.

  “Going in to work early?” Iris asked.

  “Yeah, I have some things I need to do before heading to the hospital to see Colbi.” He looked over at his mother. “You going in early, too?”

  “Yup—have the breakfast shift.”

  ***

  In the meantime at the Ivey household, Savannah walked into the kitchen to start breakfast. “Hi Buffy, hi Walter. You kids hungry?” She looked around. “Where’s your brother? Rags! Rags!” she called. “Raaaags!” she called again as she retrieved the cats’ food and started filling bowls. “Oh there you are! Where’ve you been, huh boy?”

  “What’s he got there?” Michael asked as he walked into the kitchen. He stared down at the cat, who sat tall, his tail wrapped around him and a new treasure at his feet.

  “What?” Savannah asked as she looked at her cat more closely. “A rat!” she said in disgust. “Good grief, where did he get that?” she asked, frowning.

  “That’s a good question. We’ve had the pest people out; we never see evidence of rodents in the house. I guess it could be a fluke. He just found his way in.” Michael chuckled. “The poor rodent didn’t have a chance—wasn’t aware that we have furry exterminators on duty.” He walked into the service porch and found the dustpan, scooped up the rat, and carried it outside to dispose of it.

  Savannah shuddered. She then looked over at Rags and said, “Good boy for catching it. I’m just glad you didn’t eat the thing. Come on, let’s have breakfast.”

  After Michael left for work, Savannah finished straightening up the house. The next item on her agenda was to call her friend Betty, who was also the secretary of the Hammond Cat Alliance. “Betty, did you know that Colbi has been rescued?”

  “Oh hi, Savannah. Yes, I heard about it on the radio. My gosh, she has been through a lot and all in the name of cats. How’s she doing, do you know?”

  “I’m headed to the hospital to see her in a little bit,” Savannah said. “I’ll call when I get back.”

  “Great. You know, I’ve been talking to Edie, Dora, and some of the other Cat Alliance members, and we want to help. I imagine her recovery—both physically and emotionally—will take some time,” Betty said.

  “Well, that’s what I’m calling about. I’m going to invite Colbi to come here when they release her from the hospital.”

  “Oh that’s a nice gesture—I’m sure she would feel comfortable with you and Michael.”

  “Yeah, I can’t imagine her going back to her place yet,” Savannah said.

  “Oh no,” Betty agreed, “the memories of her abduction are just too raw.”

  “And those…kidnappers are still out there,” Savannah said.

  “Yup, and they know where she lives. Oh no, she can’t go home,” Betty said. “Too dangerous.” She hesitated and then said, “Edie is contacting members and asking for time, meals…whatever they can offer to help during Colbi’s recovery. You know, Dora had a cousin who almost died in a fire—breathed in a lot of smoke—and had to have pulmonary therapy for a while. So we’ll also have people who can drive her to any therapy appointments.”

  “That’s great, Betty. You really know how to get things done. This is such a generous group of gals—and guys.”

  “Well, you’re generous to bring her to your home even though you’re…what…eight months pregnant.”

  “A little over seven,” Savannah corrected.

  “But still, we’d all like to help. Colbi is a dedicated member and it was her passion for cats that put her in this danger. Oh yes, we’re happy to be there for her. So yeah, call me as soon as you know when she’ll be coming home and where she’ll be and we’ll kick into action.”

  “Super. Thanks.”

  After Savannah ended the call, she showered, dressed, and headed out the door. She stopped next door to visit her aunt and catch her up on the situation with Colbi and then she left for the hospital in Straley, arriving around eleven. As she approached the information desk, she heard, “Hello, Savannah.”

  She turned toward the voice. “Oh, Damon. Hello. How is she?”

  “Weak.” He looked down. His voice cracked as he said, “She’s been through a lot.”

  Savannah put her hand on Damon’s arm. “I’m so sorry she had to go through this.
But she’s young. She’ll be just fine. Don’t you worry, Damon.”

  He took a ragged breath. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But the doctors say she has a ways to go before…well, before she’s healed.” He smiled up at Savannah and said, “She’ll be glad to see you. Thanks for coming.”

  “Sure. I wanted to see her and find out if there’s anything I can do.” She made eye contact with Damon and asked, “Do you know if she has anyone to help her out when she leaves the hospital?”

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  “Well, Michael and I would like to invite her out to our place to recuperate. Do you think she would agree to that?”

  Damon ran his hand over his head. “Gosh, I don’t know why not.” He smiled widely. “That would be great of you and Dr. Ivey. Yes, she would feel safe with the two of you.” He moved in closer to Savannah and said in a quiet voice, “I don’t think she should go back to her place. You know, those people…” He tightened his lips to keep from a display of emotion. “They’re still out there somewhere. If they find out she’s alive, they might…”

  “I know, Damon. It’s okay. She’ll be okay. I’ll go in and talk to her, see if she’ll come home with us when she’s released.”

  Damon nodded. He didn’t dare try to speak for fear the floodgate of tears would spill over again. Instead, he reached out and wrapped his arms around Savannah. “Thank you,” he said. He stepped back, looked at her, and then darted toward the exit.

  Savannah watched him leave. Poor guy, she thought. She sighed deeply and then turned toward the information desk. “Colbi Stanton?”

  “Room 212,” she was told.

  When she reached Colbi’s room, she found her propped up against several pillows, sipping a cup of hot tea.

  “Hi Colbi. Feel like having a visitor?”

  “Savannah,” Colbi said in a hoarse whisper. “Yes. Glad to see you.”

  “You, too, girl,” Savannah said, leaning over and hugging Colbi to her. She stepped back, narrowing her eyes. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  Colbi took a breath and coughed. “Could be worse,” she said, trying to conserve her energy. She smiled weakly. “But I’m here.” Colbi started to cry. “It was awful. I can’t stop crying.”