by Patricia Fry
"Sure did," she said grinning. "In my saddlebags. I was prepared."
He stared at her for a moment and shook his head, his eyes twinkling under heavy greying brows. "Atta girl."
"I also had plastic gloves with me and I made Bonnie put one on before she touched the evidence."
Craig opened the top of the nine-by-twelve envelope and peered inside. "Yup, it's a bloody rag, all right." He closed the envelope and placed it on the floor next to the sofa. "Thanks. I hope it leads somewhere. Now where did you say you found it?"
Michael answered, "Probably a mile east of Bonnie and Barney's place."
"So if it does belong to the knucklehead who was messing with your cat…ahem, my partner…at least we know that he was either on foot or on horseback and he probably lives somewhere east of the B & B Stables. Right?" he asked glancing from Michael to Savannah. Craig looked over at Rags, who was sitting across the room. "Is that what you'd say, Detective?"
Everyone laughed. But no one was prepared for what happened next.
Rags stood and trotted toward Craig. Before reaching him, the cat stopped. He crouched and sniffed the air. Suddenly, he spotted the envelope and he began to slink slowly in that direction, his eyes keenly fixed on it. He moved closer and closer, ever so slowly until he was scant inches from the envelope. Like grease lightening, Rags lifted one paw and swatted the envelope in one fierce motion, before turning and walking away, his tail switching behind him.
Craig looked at Savannah. She glanced back and then looked at Michael. He suggested, "Well, that was odd…almost as if he was making a statement."
"Definitely," Savannah said.
"Sure seems like he has a vendetta against whatever is in that envelope," Iris said.
"Yeah, could be," Craig said, "…or with the owner of what's in there."
"What is it?" Iris asked.
"It could just be our first good clue in the disappearance of Savannah's horse."
Chapter 4
Later that evening, after their guests had left, Savannah said, "It sounds like it will be a lovely wedding, doesn't it, Michael?"
"Yes. Imagine, another wedding here," he said.
"Well, it's a perfect spot. In fact, if we ever need the money, we could probably rent our home out for weddings. We have plenty of room and I hear it can be a lucrative business, if you have the right ambiance."
"And if you don't mind strangers milling around every weekend," Michael said, attempting to give his wife a reality check. He asked, "Do you think you can pull this wedding off, hon…with all you have to do lately?"
"I'd better be able to," she said. "I promised I would." She hesitated, then added, "Sure, we can do it. I spoke with Helena before we left for LA and she said she and her sister and Antonio's wife are all available to take care of the food, serving, cleanup... Helena's husband and Antonio will set up the chairs and arbor. Heck, there will only be—what—twenty-five or thirty of us—a small group."
Michael chuckled. "Antonio has sure turned out to be a José of all trades," hasn't he?"
"A José of all trades?" Savannah said, laughing. "Do you mean Juan of all trades?"
"Is Juan Jack in Spanish? I thought it was José."
"No, that's Joseph."
"And Juan is John, isn't it?"
"Heck, I don't know," Savannah said throwing up her hands. "We'd better check with Antonio or Helena before we try spewing Spanish words." She was quiet for a moment and then said, "I'm glad we kept Antonio on after Auntie sold us the house. He and his wife Esperanza—not to mention Helena—have been wonderful." She giggled a little and said, "Antonio says he's going to teach Lily how to garden. Can't you just see her out there in her sun bonnet sitting in one of the raised beds and helping Antonio with her own tiny garden tools?"
Michael laughed. "We have a lot to look forward to with her, don't we?" He then asked, "So the ceremony is on Saturday at one?"
"Yes. Then Iris and Craig will leave for a couple of days' honeymoon south to some of the beach communities." Savannah plopped down on the loveseat and said, "Who would have thought two years ago, that Craig and Iris would get married?"
"Yeah, he was ready to arrest her for murder." He shook his head.
"Remember how angry we were with him for even considering that Iris could do such a thing?"
"Oh yes," Michael said. "But I think, in the end, he was as happy to learn that she was innocent as we were that she was exonerated."
"You're right." Savannah laid her head against the sofa back and said dreamily, "And now they're getting married. It's like a fairytale."
****
The following morning, Savannah woke up with a start. "Michael, Michael, I had a dream about Peaches. She's okay. She's alive!" she said excitedly.
Michael lifted himself up on one arm and looked at his wife through bleary eyes. "A dream? You had a dream?"
"Yes, a premonition dream. I saw Peaches. She's in a wire corral hidden from view. I saw her as clearly as I see you right now," Savannah said.
"You can't see me very well; it's still dark, except for that nightlight. What time is it, anyway?" he asked squinting toward the clock. He laid back down hard on his pillow. "It's four thirty-five, for crying out loud, honey. Why did you wake me up so early? Now I won't be able to go back to sleep."
"Yes, you will. Why did I wake you up? Aren't you happy to know that my mare is okay?"
Michael stared at Savannah, not sure what to say. Finally he managed: "It was a dream."
"It was real," she insisted. "It was as real as the time I dreamed I won that scholarship to veterinary school, and the time I dreamed that I would someday have a beautiful little girl." She looked a little melancholy before saying, "…and the time I saw the angels take Daddy to heaven. That's how real it was, Michael."
He looked at her for a minute. "So where is she, Savannah? Where is this wire corral?"
"That I don't know," she said, sadly. "But it's in brush just like what's behind Bonnie's," she said confidently.
"Savannah, have you ever looked at a topographic map of that area?"
"No," she said.
"Well, I have, and those hills and that brush go on forever. There are miles of that kind of brush and terrain."
"Oh," she said looking deflated. "Maybe Craig knows someone with a plane or a helicopter."
"Savannah, I don't think…" Michael started.
"Michael, she's out there somewhere. I know it. I've got to find her before…"
"Before what?"
"Well, before someone decides they don't need her anymore and they…hurt her." Savannah began to cry. "I'm just so worried about her."
"I know, honey," Michael said, taking Savannah in his arms and holding her until she fell asleep again."
Three hours later, Savannah awakened to find herself alone in their bed. She sat up. "Michael?" she called. Upon hearing nothing, she climbed out of bed, slipped into her lightweight robe, and headed for the nursery. Empty. As she rushed in the other direction down the hallway, she heard laughter. "Michael!" she called, heading toward the kitchen.
"Good morning, hon," Michael said. He reached out for her hand. Savannah smiled at their daughter, who was sitting on Michael's lap.
"Watch this," he said. He bounced Lily on his knee and she began to giggle and kick her feet happily. "She's practicing for when she can ride her pony."
"Oh, she's already got you talked into buying her a pony, huh?"
"Well, of course," he said with a laugh. He watched as Savannah poured herself a glass of juice and sat down in the chair across from him. "How're you feeling, hon?" he asked.
"I'm okay," she said.
"Uh…do you remember what you told me last night?" he asked cautiously.
She straightened her posture. "Sure I do. I had a premonition dream about Peaches." When she saw the doubt on his face, she asked, "Don't you believe me?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I believe you had the dream…"
She cocked her head. "You mean,
I'd never told you about my premonition dreams?"
He lowered Lily into her baby chair. "No. Never heard you talk about your psychic abilities."
"I'm not psychic, Michael. It's just that…well, I have these dreams that come true."
"Do all of your dreams come true?"
"No, of course not. But those that do all have a similar pattern. I kinda know when it's a premonition dream and when it's just a dream. And my dream about Peaches was a premonition dream. I saw her…"
"Okay, okay," Michael said putting up his hands in surrender. "So what are you going to do now?" he asked.
She looked down at her juice. "I don't know. I think I'll talk to Iris."
"Iris?" Michael looked puzzled. "She has premonition dreams, too?" he asked.
"I don't think so. But she…well, she knows stuff…this kind of stuff. She might have some suggestions."
Michael stared across the table at his wife for a few moments, then stood up. "Gotta go to work," he said, kissing Lily and then Savannah. She walked to the door with him and waved goodbye. She returned to find Lily fussing, but when the baby saw her mommy, she started kicking her legs and waving her arms happily. Savannah picked up her cell phone off the charger, gave Lily a kiss on the forehead, and then sat down and made a call. "Is this Aunt RisRis?" she asked, a big smile on her face. "Or is this the blushing bride?" she said, laughing.
"Good morning, Savannah," Iris said, also laughing. "You got the Auntie part right, but blushing…I don't think so. I haven't blushed since eighth grade."
"Oh, Iris, you're a crackup!"
"Yeah, yeah. Hey, what are you doing today—you and the baby angel?"
"Just wondering if you're free." Her tone turned serious. "I'd like to talk to you about something."
"Related to the wedding?" she asked.
"Well, that, too. I do have a few questions," she said. "…but no there's another topic I want to cover with you, if you have the time. Are you working today?"
"Nope, I have the whole day off. I want to shop for a going-away outfit. But that won't take me long."
"Why don't you come over some time this morning and we'll have coffee," Savannah suggested.
"Sounds good. I'd enjoy that. What time does Lily go down for her nap?"
"Oh, today…?" she looked over at the baby. "Probably around ten."
"Let's see, it's eight-fifteen now? I'll be there in thirty minutes."
"Yikes," Savannah said.
"Too soon?" Iris asked.
"No, come on over. But I might put you to work bathing the baby," she said.
"I'd love it!" Iris gushed.
"So is the baby still dirty?" Iris asked nearly thirty minutes later, when Savannah opened the door for her and invited her in.
"She sure is. But I did get myself presentable before you got here. I was still in my jammies when I called you," she admitted. "Lily's in the kitchen. Why don't you go see her and I'll get things ready for her bath."
Once bath time was over, Iris said, "Oh that was more fun than the water park I used to take the boys to. Thanks for letting me wear your apron. She's really quite the tadpole, isn't she?" she said, laughing.
"Yes. Loves the water. Here, put her on the changing table," Savannah said as they entered the nursery. "Do you want me to dress her?"
"No, let me do it."
"Okay, the diapers are there on the shelf. She's going to wear her little rosebud outfit today," Savannah said.
"They make such adorable clothes for baby girls," Iris said, swooning a little. She glanced over at Savannah. "Can we put a bow in her hair?"
"Yeah, let me find the right color," Savannah said, rummaging through a dresser drawer. "Pink; here it is. Let's hope she'll keep it in. She doesn't like things on her head or in her hair and she yanks them off. Usually she pulls her hair, too, and that makes her cry. She hasn't figured out that if she quits pulling, it would stop hurting."
"You have a lot to learn, don't you baby angel?" Iris murmured, as she struggled to put Lily's arms into the sleeves of her dress. Once she'd fastened the buttons and brushed the baby's hair, Iris said, "Give me the bow. Aunt RisRis will put it in where she can't reach it." She looked at Savannah, who was holding Lily in a sitting position. "Okay, is she right- or left-handed?" she asked.
"What?" Savannah chuckled. "She doesn't eat by herself, yet or write, Iris."
"Yeah, but which hand seems to be predominant?" she asked.
"I guess her right one," Savannah said.
"Then I'll put the bow more to the left," she calculated, as she clipped the tiny bow near the very top of the baby's head. "There, you look so beautiful. Here, Mommy, take a picture of us, would you?" she asked, handing Savannah her phone.
"Awww, that's a cute one," Savannah said. She showed it to Iris.
"Perfect," Iris said. "So what now?" she asked, lifting the baby from the changing table. "Shall we have some coffee? I'm ready for a coffee break. Do you want her in her chair in the kitchen?"
"Sure, let me get her a few toys."
"Mmm, you smell as pretty as you look, sweet thing," Iris said into the baby's hair. Just then, Lily reached up and grabbed two handfuls of Iris's red curly hair. "Oh no you don't," she said. "Savannah, help!"
When Savannah looked up, she began to laugh. "No-no, Lily. Don't pull Aunt RisRis's hair. That's not nice," she said as she continued laughing. She pried the baby's fingers from around Iris's hair and then removed the few strands that had come out in her little hands.
"Now I really need my coffee," Iris said, "after that attack by the baby hair bandit." She placed Lily in her chair, poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat down at the table. Savannah put several toys on the chair tray and then poured a cup of coffee for herself.
"You're drinking coffee these days?"
"Yeah, I usually have coffee in the morning. Haven't had the chance yet." She looked at her friend for a moment and then asked, "How're the wedding plans coming?"
"Good. I have the flowers ordered and the cake. I picked out the color scheme. It's all coming together."
"Who's standing up with you?" Savannah asked.
Iris furrowed her brows. "Oh, don't you know?"
"No, I don't think we discussed it."
She smiled. "You and Michael, if you don't mind."
Savannah fought back a few tears. "Oh, you surprised me! It didn't occur to me…" Savannah stuttered.
"Yeah, we decided that early-on, but I guess we forgot to tell you."
"What do you want us to wear?" Savannah asked.
"Oh nothing special—well, yes, something special. But nothing new. You have some lovely clothes. Just wear what you want and Michael can wear slacks and a dress shirt—whatever."
"What's your color scheme? We'll try to comply."
"Oh, a soft mauve and cream," Iris said. "I'll wear a cream-colored satin dress with a beaded bodice and sassy flared skirt."
"Cool, I have a mauve print dress that might work. I'll show it to you before you leave. But first…" she looked over at Lily and picked up her stuffed chenille cat off the floor.
"I see why you keep that mat under her chair," Iris said. "You've picked that cat up at least a dozen times since we've been sitting here."
"Yeah, what I need is to train one of the animals to retrieve her toys. Well, Rags will, only he doesn't give them back."
Both women laughed.
"So what did you want to talk to me about, Savannah?" Iris asked. "You sounded kind of mysterious when you called."
Savannah leaned toward Iris. "Do you remember those times when we talked about…you know…woo-woo stuff?"
"You mean, spiritual, other-worldly, metaphysical… that sort of thing? Sure I remember. One of my favorite topics."
"Do you recall me telling you about my premonition dreams?"
Iris's eyes lit up. "Oh yes, that was fascinating. I'd never met anyone who has them." She looked at Savannah and slapped her hand on the table. "Don't tell me you had another one."
/> "Yeah, I kinda did…last night. It was about Peaches."
"Your horse?" Iris lowered her voice in sympathy. "You mean, you haven't found her yet?"
"No. Bonnie and I've ridden most of the trails behind her place, thinking whoever is visiting the stables and taking livestock is camping out there." She shook her head. "I don't know. It's all just so maddening and puzzling." She raised her eyebrows and said, "Did you know they almost got Buffy?"
"Oh my gosh, no," Iris said. "How did that happen?"
"Wait, that's my phone," Savannah said. "It might be Craig." She picked up her cell and said, "Hello Craig."
"Hey Savannah, I have news."
She chuckled. "Yeah? Good or bad?"
"You decide," he said. "The evidence you gave me last night matches the specimen left at the Teagues' place and what I found in the cat's claws. It appears that you have a bead on the lone rustler."
"Lone rustler—now that's an interesting moniker."
"He either lives out there in the brush or he uses that trail for his escape. How far did you say it is to the highway?"
"Gosh, we figure about seven or eight miles." She thought for a moment and then added, "He wouldn't walk in the dark through thick brush to the highway, do you think, Craig? Doesn't make sense to me. But neither does hiding out in the hills until daylight."
Craig coughed, cleared his throat. "Well, he's probably deranged."
"Deranged or not, he's a thief and I want him to bring my horse back!"
"We'll get him," Craig said. "Don't you worry about that."
"Well, thanks for the news," she said. Then she asked, "Hey, how's Tommy?"
Craig chuckled. "A bundle of energy. He's having a lot of fun getting to know Willie and learning about his new surroundings. Iris said he slept in Brett's room last night, cozied up to his tropical fish tank."
"Funny," she said. "A kitten can sure liven up a home, can't it?"
"Sure can," Craig said. "I stayed for a while at Iris's last night after we left your house and we did nothing but laugh at that little cat the whole time."
"I'm glad you're enjoying him, Craig. Thanks for calling."
Iris laughed. "Oh, did he tell you how much fun we're having with Tommy? What a darling boy and full of energy. Keeps us laughing," she said. She lowered her voice with concern. "You were going to tell me about Buffy. What happened?"
