Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 04 - Undercover Cat

by Patricia Fry

“That one’s unusual. Is it some kind of special cat?”

  “They’re all special, Damon,” Colbi said.

  Savannah smiled. “To answer your question, Damon, This is Buffy, she’s part Himalayan.”

  He looked confused. “So she’s from the Himalayas?”

  “No, but the breeders who created the breed, using the color points and blue eyes of the Siamese and the lush coat of the Persian cat, named them Himalayan because their color is like that of rabbits and goats living in the Himalayas.”

  “Wow, I didn’t know that,” Michael said.

  Damon looked confused. “I knew there were dog breeds, cocker, boxer, lab, Chihuahua…but cats have breeds too? I thought they just came in different colors.”

  Colbi looked over at him and shook her head.

  Everyone watched as Buffy sat in the doorway grooming herself. Then she looked over at Damon and headed in his direction. She stopped and sat in front of him. He stared down at her. “Hello kitty,” he said apprehensively. He reached down to let her sniff his fingers and she rubbed her cheek and one side of her body against his hand. “She’s soft,” he said. He ran his hand along her back and she purred. She then put her front feet on his knees and looked up at him.

  “She wants in your lap,” Savannah said. “Here, I’ll take her…”

  “No,” Damon protested. “She’s fine.” He looked up at Savannah. “She’s really kind of cute.”

  “She’s adorable,” Colbi said.

  Damon sat back and urged Buffy onto his lap. She jumped up and settled in a small space on the sofa between him and Colbi. Colbi petted her and then Damon reached out and ran his hand over her lush fur. “Yeah, she’s really cute,” he said with a smile.

  After a while, Colbi closed the binder with a big sigh. “Sorry Detective. They aren’t in there.”

  Craig frowned, then looked up at Colbi. “What if we put you with a sketch artist? Could you describe the couple?”

  “Oh yes!” she said emphatically.

  “Okay, then, we’ll arrange that. Maybe tomorrow. Are you up to it?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “Could you get the artist to come out here, Craig?” Damon asked. “So Colbi doesn’t have to go out. She’s still recovering, you know.”

  Craig sat back and looked at Colbi. “Yeah, I think I could arrange that.” He paused and then said, “Do you folks know how many people are out there scamming the public just in the name of cats?”

  No one spoke.

  “I found a site with hundreds of email addresses of scammers who prey on cat lovers.”

  “Yes, I visited that site when I was doing research for my story,” Colbi said, her voice cracking and squeaking. “Most of those email addresses are bad—you know, those scammers keep changing so they don’t get caught. Or they’ll have multiple addresses. Some of those people don’t even actually have cats.” She glanced up at Craig, a panicked look on her face. “Oh no, what happened to the cats at that house? Did they get out?”

  “Yes, most of them did. Maybe all of them.” He hesitated, then asked, “Did you see any of the cats when you were there?”

  “No, I heard them and I heard the couple yelling at them and referring to them. But I didn’t see them.”

  “They were in rough shape—those that I saw.” He shook his head. “If only all those people who sent them money knew what was really going on. There oughta be a way to raise awareness…” He looked at Colbi and smiled. “Well, I guess that’s what you were trying to do when…”

  She managed a weak smile, though her eyes remained melancholy.

  Chapter Eight

  Late that night after Damon had left, all of the people and critters in the Ivey home were asleep, except one. Colbi woke up in the middle of a nightmare and, using the small flashlight Savannah had put in her room, she walked downstairs to get a glass of water. She flipped on one switch, which provided just a dim light in the kitchen, and opened the fridge, opting for pomegranate juice. As she poured the rich red liquid into a small glass, she heard something behind her. She turned. “Oh hi, Lexie,” she whispered, reaching out and petting the friendly little dog. “What are you doing up so late? Can’t sleep? Or are you looking for a treat?” Colbi watched as Lexie walked over to her bed near the kitchen door, and something caught her eye.

  Colbi moved toward the large kitchen window and squinted into the distance. What the heck is going on out there? she wondered. She walked over to the far wall and flipped the light switch off so she could see out into the darkness. The only light in the room glowed from a nightlight in the shape of a cat plugged in above the kitchen counter. Still squinting, she couldn’t quite make out what she was seeing. Something or someone is moving around out there. It almost looks like some sort of otherworld dance ritual. Just then, she felt something rub against her calf. She gasped. “Oh Walter, you startled me,” she said with a hoarse laugh. “I’m not used to having kitties in the house.” She knelt down to pet the black cat. “You see, all of my kitties live outside.” She looked up and saw Buffy walking toward her, blinking her eyes as if she had just awakened. “Hi cutie,” she whispered, reaching out and petting the petite cat.

  She looked around and asked, “Where’s Rags?” Hmm, that’s odd. He’s usually in the middle of everything. She turned to look at the strange sight outside again and shook her head. I can’t quite make it out. I’ll have to tell Savannah and Michael about this tomorrow—ask them about their odd neighbors and their strange nighttime habits. She started to take a sip of her juice when the moon slipped from behind a dark cloud and lit up the yard. A cat! There’s a cat out there—looks like it’s carrying a kitten or something in its mouth. Probably a feral. There must be a lot of them out here. She watched until the moonlight was shuttered by another passing cloud. She then walked over and flicked on the overhead light, pulled a chair out from the kitchen table, and sat down. She noticed the evening newspaper folded on the tabletop and reached for it. Just then she heard something and looked up. Sitting there next to her was Rags.

  “Oh there you are, boy. What have you been up to?” Just then, she noticed something on the floor in front of him. “What’s this? You been stealing things again?” She reached down to pick it up and, in typical Rags manner, he grabbed it in his mouth and started to turn away. Colbi watched as he strolled over to his water bowl. It looks like he’s going to drop it in there. I’d better see if I can get it from him—whatever it is. She stood and moved toward him, grabbing him just before he dropped it. With only a little difficulty, she pulled the item from his mouth and straightened up. “Ow, Rags, you’re clawing me,” she said as he stretched up with his paws against her leg. “Now settle down and let me take a look.”

  It’s an envelope addressed to…Beverly Jones in Baton Rouge, Louisiana from Candace Jones in Chandler, Arizona. Looks old…postmarked,1983. Jeez, it is old. Who are these people? Where did this come from? Must be something belonging to Savannah or Michael. I’d better put it up someplace where Rags can’t get it. She looked around. Inside a drawer—here, I’ll put it in with the silverware.

  “(Yawwwwn.) Okay, enough excitement for one night, guys,” she said, addressing the furred menagerie surrounding her in the room. She finished drinking the juice and then said, “Let’s go back to bed, shall we?”

  ***

  “What’s this?” Michael asked, opening the silverware drawer to grab a spoon for Savannah’s tea the following morning.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I found a letter in this drawer.” He turned toward her. “Did you put it here?”

  Savannah closed the refrigerator door, set a bowl of fruit on the kitchen counter and looked over at what Michael held in his hand. She creased her brow. “No. Looks old.”

  “Yeah, postmarked…” he strained to read the date… “1983.”

  “Hi guys,” Colbi greeted.

  “Hi. Gosh you’re really raspy this morning,” Savannah said.

  “Yeah, it’s w
orse in the morning, but better overall. At least my throat isn’t sore, anymore; just dry, (cough, cough).”

  “Thank heaven for small favors,” Savannah said.

  Colbi sat down in a kitchen chair and glanced over at Michael. “Oh, I see you found it.”

  He looked at Colbi and then down at the letter. “You put this here?”

  “Yeah, is it yours?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “Where did it come from?”

  “Your cat,” she said. “Rags brought it in here last night while I was having a glass of juice.”

  “Really?!” Savannah said. She walked over to where Michael stood and peered down at the old envelope.

  “Open it, Michael.”

  “Yeah, what’s in it? A treasure map?” Colbi laughed…coughed.

  Michael pulled a folded piece of lined paper through a slit at the top of the envelope. “It’s a letter,” he said.

  “Read it,” Savannah said excitedly.

  “Yeah, read it,” Colbi croaked.

  “Dear Mom, I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you. I know you wanted me to go to nursing school and I understand why, but Johnny was so convincing. He promised to take me away from all of the crap I’d been dealing with—you know, Dad’s illness and death and the awful rut I’d gotten into working for old Mr. Taylor. I felt like a nothing and, Mother, you know how I’ve always wanted to be somebody—somebody special like Aunt Maude. I can sing—everyone says so.

  “I thought Johnny was going to help me get my career off the ground. He said he had connections. But all of that was a lie. The biggest lie was that he loved me and would take care of me. I know this is going to be hard for you to read, but I have to get it off my chest and I have to make things right between us—you and me. I’m coming home, Mom. I can’t live in this rat hole any longer and I won’t stand for any more beatings. A man who says he loves you and then beats you is a liar.

  “As sad as it makes me that things didn’t work out here, I think I learned a lot. One thing I learned is that there is no place like home and that Mother knows best (ha ha).

  “I’m coming home, Mom, to change my life. I may even sign up for nursing school. Do you know if my spot in the church choir is still open?

  “I love you. See you soon.

  “Candy”

  Michael stared down at the letter for a few seconds before looking up. Savannah stood with her hands up to her mouth. “Oh my gosh, that poor girl.”

  “I wonder who it is,” Michael said, turning the letter and envelope over and over in his hands. “Where did it come from?”

  “You don’t know anyone by those names?” Colbi asked.

  “No,” Savanna said. She looked around. “How did it get in this house? Did someone we know bring it in and Rags found it in their purse or pocket? I guess we’ll have to ask around.”

  “You might start with the detective and Damon,” Colbi offered. “They were your most recent visitors.”

  “Well, I don’t know anything about these people and I can’t stand around here all day trying to figure it out, so I think I’ll just go to work,” Michael said with a grin. He turned toward Savannah and gave her a hug. “I guess we won’t get to see our favorite little visitor this weekend,” he said.

  Savannah reached up and brushed a few strands of his hair off his forehead. “Yeah, I’ll miss him too,” she said. “But he’ll be here next weekend. You know, Adam’s visitation schedule will change sometimes now that he’s getting involved in sports.”

  “I know.” He glanced over at Colbi and said, “Nice that we have Colbi here with us, though.”

  “Yes, it is,” Savannah agreed. She smiled over at their guest.

  Once Michael had left, Savannah sat down across from Colbi at the table and started dunking a teabag into a cup of hot water. “Listen, if you want to use my computer, please feel free. You must feel rather isolated without your connecting devices.”

  Colbi raised her eyebrows and took in a breath. “Yeah, you got that right. I’m hoping to get downtown to get a new cell phone in the next couple of days.” She smiled at Savannah. “Thank you for the offer. I’d love to have access to the Internet. You’re right, I feel sorta naked without my connections. Plus, I have some writing I’d like to do.”

  “No problem. It doesn’t get used all that much. It just sits down the hall in the office gathering dust. Oh, I used it to look up baby names the other day. I don’t even do much emailing anymore. I text like the rest of the modern world,” she said with a laugh.

  “Have you decided on a name?” Colbi asked. “I haven’t heard you say, is it a boy or a girl?”

  “We want to be surprised so we’ve asked that if the doctors not to tell us,” Savannah explained. “As for a name—we have a few we are considering, but nothing is etched in stone, yet.”

  “Will you name the baby after someone—your aunt or mom or one of Michael’s relatives?”

  Savannah pursed her lips and shook her head. “Probably not. Gladys?” she said with a grimace. “I don’t think so.” She stared into space and said, “I love really feminine names for a little girl and strong names for a boy.”

  “Like Pricilla, Millicent, Grace?”

  “Yeah, you’ve got the idea,” Savannah said. “Or Alexander, Nicholas, Cole or Jack for a boy.” Savannah looked over at Colbi and asked, “Where did your name come from?”

  “Colby was a family name on my maternal grandparents’ side. My parents changed the y to an i and pinned the name on me when I was born. I’m Colbi Jayne Stanton.”

  “Well, I like it. With your permission, I’d like to add Colby to my list of strong boy’s names.”

  Colbi smiled. “Well, I’d be delighted.”

  ***

  After dinner that evening, Michael said, “The stew was good again tonight, hon.”

  “It sure was,” Colbi agreed.

  “Well, this is the last night of leftovers. Tomorrow the Cat Alliance is bringing supper. I hear it’s lasagna—is everyone up for that? I’ll make a green salad.”

  “Oh yes,” Colbi said, placing the book she was reading on the table next to her. “Edie’s taking me to see my doctor Monday. I need to get set up with some therapy aside from just using that breathing apparatus.”

  Michael leaned forward in his seat and addressed both women. “Hey, have either of you found out anymore about that letter?”

  “No!” Savannah said, shaking her head.

  “Well, I have,” Colbi said from the overstuffed chair.

  The Iveys both looked in her direction. “What?”

  “Candace Jones was killed—as in murdered—in 1983 at the age of twenty-five in a motel room in Chandler, Arizona. They arrested a man named Johnny Denton. He died in prison. It appears that Candace’s mother Beverly moved to California after the trial. I lost her trail after around 1990—as if she left the human race.”

  “Gosh, Colbi, where did you get all of that information?” Savannah asked.

  She smiled. “The Internet.”

  “You are quite the researcher, aren’t you?” Michael said. “That’s interesting stuff—sad, though. So Candy—Candace—never made it home?”

  “No,” Colbi said. “The date on the letter looks like August 29 and she was killed a few days later. No, the girl never made it home.” She coughed and cleared her throat. “But where is her mother and where did that letter come from?”

  “Now that is a puzzle,” Savannah said. She looked over at her cat, who was sprawled out on the floor sound asleep. “And what does Rags have to do with it all?”

  Everyone sat with their own thoughts for a moment.

  Michael reached out and petted Walter, who was curled up on the sofa near him. Then he looked at Colbi. “Did the sketch artist come out today?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Whether I liked it or not, I did have to look at those crooks’ ugly faces again.”

  “So you got a good likeness, then?”

  “Yes!” Her face brightened. “
Excellent. They should have no trouble finding them. Only…”

  Savannah cocked her head. “Only what?” she asked.

  “Only I think there was someone else there the night they grabbed me—two men. I can’t imagine it was only old rickety George.”

  “Rickety?” Michael said with a laugh.

  “Yeah. I don’t remember much about that night. But whoever grabbed me was awfully strong and I don’t think that bag-of-fat woman was even there—unless she was the driver.” Colbi thought for a moment. “Yeah, there was someone else there that night. Another man—a larger, stronger man.”

  In an attempt to keep Colbi from going to that dark place again where she harbored memories of that awful night, Savannah asked cheerfully, “Hey, who sent the flowers?’

  Colbi smiled from ear to ear, wiped away a tear, and said, “Damon and Iris. The florist shop delivered them while you were at the grocery store. Aren’t they pretty? And look at this,” she walked over and pulled the card out of the holder. “Love Damon, Iris and all your wild cats.” She turned to face Michael and Savannah. “I took the lilies out.”

  “Oh, poisonous—good thinking,” Savannah said. “Although, our cats don’t usually bother plants and flowers.”

  “Except to dig in the dirt,” Michael added.

  “Yeah, they’ve been known to do that,” she said with a laugh.

  Colbi lowered herself back into the chair. “There’s another bouquet in my room from the Cat Alliance. It’s fall colors—really pretty. Edie dropped them by and carried them up to my room for me.”

  “Well nice,” Savannah said. “I’ll have to go up and see it.”

  “Yeah, it’s from you, too, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, I guess it is.”

  “I’ll send a thank you to everyone,” she said, scrunching over a little to make room for Buffy, who had just jumped up into the chair with her. Colbi looked up at Savannah. “When’s the next Cat Alliance meeting?”

  “Oh, I think the first part of next month. Our next project is cat colonies.”

  “Good—what, like an educational for those of us feeding ferals?”

  “I believe so—education, assistance and maybe we’ll discuss a fundraiser to help support some of the colonies.”