by Patricia Fry
"No!" Michael shouted.
Meanwhile, Lizzie trotted toward the door and looked up at the door knob.
"I'll get it," Michael said, picking up the young cat.
"Craig?" Savannah said, upon seeing the detective.
He peered into the house at Gladys. "I see you got home. Is everything okay?"
"Yes," Gladys said, moving closer. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"Come in," Michael invited, moving Rags away from the door with one foot, "before we lose a cat. Do you need one, by the way?" he asked scratching Lizzie under the chin. He smiled down at her. "This one's up for adoption."
"What's wrong with her?" Craig asked, laughing. "Is she naughty?"
"Not really. So what brings you out here tonight?" Michael asked, lowering Lizzie to the floor, and sitting down across from where Craig perched.
"Your mother-in-law," he said.
"What?" Gladys said. "Me?"
"Yes, a woman came to the sheriff's department earlier asking questions about you and she has a complaint. She said you have something of hers, and she wants it back in the worst way."
"What?" Gladys insisted. "What do I have? First a man accuses me of having something of his and now a woman?" She shook her head. "Craig, is this a world gone mad or is it just me?"
He chuckled. "I don't know, Gladys. You say a man accused you of taking something?"
"He came here while Mom was napping," Savannah explained. "He said he accidently slipped something into Mom's purse while they were at the airport."
Craig sat silent for a few moments. He rubbed his chin. "Well, it's not making much sense. How did he find you? Do you know who he is? Do you remember someone engaging you at the airport?"
"I don't have the slightest idea who it might be or what he's talking about," Gladys said. "I don't recall speaking to anyone at the airport, and I went through my purse just now. There's nothing there—nothing at all that isn't mine. I looked at very receipt, everything. And I don't remember sitting next to someone with the description Vannie gave me."
"Rags didn't like him," Savannah muttered. When Craig looked at her, she said, "Rags growled at him and he got rough with Lizzie trying to keep her away from the man."
Craig frowned. "The man got rough with the little girl cat?"
Savannah shook her head. "No. Rags did. He didn't want Lizzie near that man."
"What did the woman say she's after, Craig?" Michael asked.
"She said Gladys has her purse and she wants what's in it."
"Now I've taken someone's purse?" Gladys squealed. "That's absurd."
"Well, I don't know what to tell you," Craig said. "Maybe you could show me your purse so I know what those people are talking about."
"Sure," Gladys said, "it's right here." She picked it up and handed it to Craig.
Craig held up the purse and frowned. "Well, this doesn't look like what she described."
"Huh?" Gladys said. "That's my purse. She must have me mixed up with someone else."
As if thinking out loud, Craig said, "Tapestry." He looked at Gladys, then Savannah. "Is there such a thing as a tapestry handbag?"
"Yes," Gladys said. "I have a few like that—only I haven't carried any of them in years."
Craig placed Gladys's purse on the coffee table. "Well, I don't know what the fuss is about. You're probably right, Gladys, it's a case of mistaken identity, only…"
"Only what, Craig?" Savannah asked.
"Why two different people with similar complaints? Something just seems off, especially when none of this makes any sense to you, Gladys."
"It sure doesn't," Gladys agreed.
"Well, I'll leave you to your evening," Craig said, standing. He looked across the room and chuckled. "She is a cute thing, that cat. Look at her there sitting on Teddy's fire engine. Does she want to go for a ride?"
"Probably," Savannah said. "She's a game little cat. Earlier, she ran into the room and attacked Teddy's wagon—the one he pulls behind his dump truck. Well, she hit it so hard that it rolled away with her on it, spun around, and slammed into the wall. She rolled off, slapped at it a couple of times, and walked away."
Everyone laughed.
"A little comic, that's what she is," Craig said.
Chapter Nine
"I hear you reunited one of the colony cats with his family," Savannah said over dinner that evening.
Michael nodded. "Yes. And I did vet checks on Lawrence Nolan's cats including those he took from the colony." He smiled. "You ladies did a good job of rescuing all those cats. I'm sure the Randolphs are pleased."
"Gabby not so much," Savannah said.
"Why?" Gladys asked
"She enjoyed seeing the cats on the property. She'd go out and sing to them. There are still barn cats though—oh, and one of them had her kittens," Savannah said. "Two more to go."
Michael smiled. "She'll love spending time with the kittens."
"Not for long," Savannah said. "She's leaving soon. Going all the way up to live in Oregon."
"We're going to talk on the computer sometimes like Simon and I do," Adam said. He shook his head. "Why are some of my best friends so far away?"
"It doesn't seem fair, does it?" Michael said.
"You'll make friends at your new school," Savannah reminded him. "You seem to make friends easily."
"That's because he has a lot of interests," Gladys said.
"I do?" Adam asked. "Actually, I only like animals—mostly horses and cats—some dogs, too, huh, Lexie? I like sports. Hey," he said, "Eric—you know, my other dad, and I are going to learn golf."
"That ought to be fun," Michael said. He looked at the boy. "You like to hike in the out of doors."
Adam nodded. "And ride my bike and skateboard. Remember the cool skateboard you got me for Christmas that year?"
"You're also becoming quite the chef," Savannah added.
"Yeah, I never knew cooking could be fun and reading. Since I read your book about Rags, Savannah, I've been reading books sometimes."
"Well-rounded," Michael said.
"Huh?"
"You're well-rounded," he explained.
"Fishing. I like fishing and I think I could like science more after meeting Gabby. She told me some things about science that make it sound fun. I'll pay more attention to science class this year in school."
Michael and Savannah smiled at one another.
When Teddy saw Gladys scoot her chair back away from the table, he said, "Dinosaurs, Grammy? Play Dinosaurs?"
"No," Lily said, slapping at him. "She's playing dolls with me."
"Children," Gladys reprimanded, "I'll play with both of you. We'll take turns, okay?"
"Me first," Lily insisted.
"No!" Teddy cried, struggling to get out of the high chair. "Me first, Grammy. Me!"
Michael looked up from his meal. "Welcome home, Gladys."
By eight thirty that evening, after Savannah and Michael had put the small children to bed, she said, "I guess that man's not coming back."
"Who?" Gladys asked.
"That man who came looking for you earlier. He said he'd come back."
Gladys waved her hand in front of her. "Good. I don't want to meet him because I obviously don't have anything belonging to him. I think I'll unpack and take care of a couple of things upstairs before I go to bed."
Savannah hugged her mother. "Okay. It's sure good to have you home."
"It's good to be home," Gladys said, kissing her daughter on the cheek.
****
"The alarm!" Savannah hissed four hours later. "Michael, the alarm's going off."
"Oh great!" he cranked. "It's probably a malfunction." He let out a heavy sigh. "Stay here. I'll go check."
"What are you doing?" she asked when she saw him reach into the closet and pull out a baseball bat.
"Just in case," he explained, walking into the hallway. Moments later, he shouted, "Stop! Who is it? Stop!"
Before he could get a good look at the figure, he
heard a commotion. He reached for the light switch and that's when he saw what appeared to be a man hunched over screaming in a high-pitched voice, "No! Stop!! Ouch!! Get it off me! Get it off me!"
Michael moved forward and grabbed Rags, dropped him onto a nearby chair, and held the bat in a threatening manner over the figure. "Who the hell are you and what do you want?"
He was shocked when the intruder stood up, her long dark hair flowing alongside a pretty face. She picked up a pair of dark glasses and a beanie and cowered against a wall. "What was that? Something darn near killed me." She looked at her arms and complained, "I'm bleeding."
"What do you want?" Michael snarled.
"Just what's mine, that's all," the woman said. She examined her arms. "But if I get rabies or something, I'll be suing you. Look at these claw marks. What was that?"
"Who is it?" Savannah asked, entering the room and quickly disengaging the alarm.
"The gentleman who was here earlier, I presume," he said. "Only he's a she."
"Amanda!" Gladys said, from the top of the staircase. "What are you doing here? The police are looking for you."
"I know, Mrs. Jordan, I just want what's mine, then I'll leave you alone. You'll never see me again. But I must have it or my life's worthless—worthless, I tell you."
"What do you mean?" Gladys asked, having descended the stairs.
When Adam appeared behind Savannah, she put her arm around him and pulled him to her, whispering, "Just stay here."
The woman started to approach Gladys, when Michael stepped in front of her. "Oh, no you don't. You stay right there."
"You aren't calling the cops, are you?" Amanda asked. "Please don't call the cops."
"I'm afraid you just called them," Michael said. When the woman looked puzzled, he explained, "The alarm rings in the sheriff's office. They'll be here any minute."
The woman glanced around nervously. "No. Please. Mrs. Jordan, just give me the purse and I'll be out of here."
Just then Savannah heard a familiar voice calling, "Michael. Michael."
She opened the front door. "Craig, come in. Do you know what's going on here?"
"That's what I came to ask you," Craig said.
"Are you a cop?" the woman shouted. She held out her arms. "Their pit bull just attacked me. I need to go to the hospital." She swooned. "I think I'm going to faint from loss of blood."
Craig frowned. He looked at Michael, then Savannah. "You have a pit bull?"
"Yeah," Michael said, pointing at Rags. "Right there."
"Oh, I get it," Craig said. He nodded at the two officers who had just arrived at the front door, and they walked in and cuffed the woman.
"No, you can't do this," she shouted. "I have to get what's mine. Please."
"Wait," Craig said. "Let's hear what she has to say." He moved closer. "What is it you're after, ma'am?" He looked into her face. "Amanda Kirk, I presume."
The woman nodded and continued looking down.
"There are a whole lot of people looking for you, you know."
"I know. That's why I need to get it." She nodded toward Gladys. "She has it and she won't give it to me."
"What is it?" Craig asked.
"It's in her purse," Amanda said.
"I've been through it three times. There's nothing in here," Gladys said, picking up her purse and holding it to her. "Nothing that doesn't belong to me."
"Not that purse," Amanda said, "the old one. You took it with you, didn't you? I couldn't find it at MaryEllen's house."
"Oh, do you mean my tapestry purse? The one you stole from me and took to your friend's place—my rental unit?"
Amanda nodded sheepishly.
"Do you know where it is, Gladys?" Craig asked.
"Yes," Gladys said, "and as far as I know it's empty."
"Would you go get it, please?" Craig asked.
"Sure," Gladys said, walking up the stairs. She returned carrying a vintage purse.
Craig reached for it. "Let me see."
He started to open it, when Rags made a leap toward where the officers held onto Amanda Kirk.
"What the…?" Deputy Ben said. "Rags, what are you doing?" When he saw Rags dragging Lizzie away from Amanda by the scruff of her neck, the deputy exclaimed, "He's hurting that cat! Look, he's hurting it!"
Savannah chuckled. "No, he's just trying to protect her—keep her away from the action. He does that."
Craig grinned and shook his head, saying, "I guess she's okay. She's just lying there next to him."
"Yeah, because he's holding her down with his paw," Michael said.
"Okay," Amanda said, "give me the purse and I'll be on my way."
"Excuse me," Gladys said quietly. "That's my purse. You stole it from me, remember?"
"Oh…" Amanda said, "I'll buy it from you. I have money. Yes, I'll buy it from you, then can I go? What do you want for it, twenty dollars? Forty?"
"I don't want to sell it," Gladys said. "That's why I stored it with all the other stuff you stole." She moved closer. "You caused me a lot of trouble and time trying to find my belongings that you took from my storage unit and hawked. I ought to…"
"We'll take care of her," Craig said, tucking the purse under his arm. He told the officers, "Take her down to the station. I'll be there in a minute. Wait," he said as an afterthought. "Let's see what's in here, shall we?" With everyone watching, he opened the purse and looked inside." "Interesting."
"What?" Deputy Ben asked.
Craig moved closer and showed the inside of the purse to Ben and the second officer. "It looks like a knife sheath of some sort—an old ornate one."
"For a collectable dagger," the second officer said.
Gladys gasped. "They've been searching for that down in Los Angeles." She looked at Amanda. "You hid it in my mother's vintage purse? How dare you!"
"No!" she shouted. "It's mine. Give it to me."
When Savannah felt Adam tense up a little, she squeezed his shoulder and smiled down at him.
"Let's go," Ben said, walking away with the woman.
"Better reset your alarm," Craig said before leaving. "And board up that broken window." He faced the Iveys. "Aren't you getting tired of replacing that pretty piece of stained glass?"
"Sure am," Michael said. "Thanks Craig."
"Yeah, thanks," Savannah said. "Let us know what happens."
"Craig," Gladys said, moving closer, "do you know when I'll get my purse back?" When he looked at her, she said, "It has sentimental value. It was my mother's favorite handbag. I'd hoped to use it in a display of some sort."
"A display?" Craig asked.
"Yes, you know with a few strands of pearls flowing from it or something."
"Yeah, Gladys, I'll get it back to you, but I don't know when. It depends on how important it is to the case against Ms. Kirk." He waved. "Well, get some sleep. I'll talk to you maybe tomorrow."
"Thanks, Craig," Savannah called.
"For what? Give your cat a treat. He got to her before I did." He looked down at Rags and Lizzie and chuckled. "He's sure protective of that little one, isn't he?" He walked closer and ran his hand over the back of Lizzie's neck. "He really didn't hurt her when he grabbed her by the scruff."
"I guess not," Michael said. "He does seem to like that little cat. Hey, thanks again."
****
The following morning as the family prepared for breakfast, Michael said, "I've decided to take the morning off."
"Really?" Savannah said.
"Yeah, I want to get someone out here to replace that glass and I'd like to take care of a few other things. Since Adam's here, he can help me."
"Okay," Savannah said, pouring him a glass of orange juice. "He's helping me now. He's feeding the horses. Lily went out with him. I'm not sure how that'll go."
"She'll be fine," Michael said. "He's good with her."
"But is he stern enough when she wants to do something she shouldn't?" Savannah asked, peering out the window.
"I guess we'll
find out," Michael said, joining her. He pointed. "Hey, look, he's got her filling the water troughs while he plays catch with Lexie."
They both laughed. Savannah said, "She does like playing in the water."
"So you kids got your chores done?" Michael asked when the children returned to the kitchen.
"Yes," Adam said. "Hey, Dad, I was thinking maybe I should get an allowance for all the things I do around here."
"All the things you do around here?" Michael repeated.
"Yes. Feeding horses, filling their water tubs, making my bed—things like that."
"Playing with the dog…" Michael added.
"I was exercising her," Adam explained. "Dogs need to be exercised and cats too. That was a chore."
Michael grinned. "It looked to me like you were having fun, while your sister was filling the water troughs."
"Sure," Adam said, "haven't you told me that you should enjoy your work? I like to find ways to enjoy my work."
"Is that right?" Michael asked, amused.
"Yes, I had fun making my bed this morning, too" he said.
"You did? How's that?" Savannah asked. "I hate making our bed."
"Just get Lizzie to help you," Adam suggested. "She makes it fun."
Savannah chuckled. "Oh, is that where Lizzie went this morning. She was helping you? Thanks for taking her off my hands." Savannah saw something out of the corner of her eye. "What's this?" she asked, turning around.
"Lizzie!" Teddy shouted. "That's Lizzie."
"What's she got?" Michael asked, trying to get a better look.
"Something purple," Adam said, moving closer.
"Lavender!" Savannah exclaimed, leaping toward the cat and grabbing at her. "Come back here you little dickens," she called, as Lizzie trotted toward the service porch, her head held high, dragging something between her paws.
"Let her go," Michael suggested. "I want to see where she's taking that. To her litter box?" he questioned.
"But Michael, it's my…" Savannah started.
"I know what it is, but what's she going to do with it? She seems to have a plan."
As Savannah stood back against the counter, holding her hands over her face in utter embarrassment, Michael and Adam followed the little cat. Moments later, they returned, laughing. Adam carried Lizzie in his arms.
