by Patricia Fry
“Nice. Odd, but nice.”
“So what are our Christmas plans?” he asked.
“First we have a special birthday to celebrate.”
“Oh yes, we do,” Michael said, winking at Lily, who was standing at the coffee table trying to put a miniature doll in a tiny stroller. “You’re going to be two,” he told her.
“Two,” Lily said, awkwardly holding up two fingers.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Did Mommy teach you that?”
Savannah shook her head. “No, she probably learned it at the day care. Barbara and her assistant do a lot of teaching.”
“Assistant?”
“Yeah, she brought in a new gal. She’s studying child development and works with Barbara part time. Elsa is her name. Cute gal. Seems to enjoy the children. Lily calls her Essa.”
“Essa,” Lily chirped. “Essa cookie aghh.”
“What?” Michael asked, looking confused. “Elsa gave you a cookie?”
Lily nodded and repeated, “Aghh.”
He laughed. “You didn’t like the cookie?”
“Cookie ick,” the toddler said, crinkling her nose.
He looked at Savannah, who was laughing. She said, “I guess Elsa brought some cookies she’d baked to the day care one day and she’d forgotten to add sugar. Barbara said the children were spitting out the cookies left and right.”
He grinned. “So this Elsa’s no baker, huh?” He then asked, “What were you thinking of doing for Lily’s birthday?”
“It’s been a long time since we’ve had a party here. I think it would be fun to do maybe a buffet luncheon and invite some of Lily’s little friends from the day care along with their parents and her grown-up friends and family. If we hold off until after the fifteenth for her party, Adam and Mom will be here.” She smiled. “Shall we celebrate her birthday the weekend before Christmas? That’s only a week after her actual birthday.”
“Why not? She won’t know the difference,” Michael agreed. “Speaking of Christmas, what do you have planned?”
“Well, since we’ll be serving the hungry that day, I’ll cook dinner on Christmas Eve.”
“Oh,” Michael said sounding disappointed.
“What?”
“I’m already tired of turkey and ham after Thanksgiving. Can we have something else for Christmas Eve dinner?”
“Like what?” she asked, frowning.
“Lasagna, enchiladas, it doesn’t matter. I just know I’ll be really sick of turkey and stuffing and ham…blah…by the time we finish slopping it on Christmas day.”
“Sure, it’s okay with me. A casserole is much easier to prepare than a full-blown turkey dinner.” She then said, “But first things first. I want to start making plans for Lily’s big birthday bash.”
****
“I have a meeting with Craig at ten,” Savannah announced over breakfast the following morning. Colbi’s going to try handling both Rosemary and Lily for an hour or so.”
“Is she worried about that?”
“Well, it’ll be her first time. I must say, I’m a little nervous about it. But she really wants to spend some time with Lily and she wants to see what it’s like taking care of two little ones before she and Damon commit to having another baby.” She chuckled. “She might decide to wait another five or ten years before having a second one.”
Michael laughed. “So whatever happens today might chart the course for Damon and Colbi, huh?” He looked Lily in the eyes. “You have a lot riding on your shoulders, there, little one.”
Lily laid her spoon across one of her shoulders. “Shoulder,” she chirped. She moved the spoon to her arm. “Elbow.” Pointing, she said, “Hand, toe, knee, chin, hair.”
Before Lily could touch the spoon to her head, Savannah grabbed her hand. “Yeah, let’s not rub peaches in your hair this morning, shall we? Come on, eat your breakfast so you can go play with baby Rosemary and Colbi.”
“So you’re going to ask Craig for his advice about the sticky stuff going on with that wad of money and the barfy sweater?”
“Yes.”
“Have you heard anything more from either of those gals?” he asked
“Actually, yes, only I’m not taking their calls and I’m not listening to their messages. Yeah, they’re still bugging me. I can’t wait to turn all this over to Craig or at least get some sort of guidance.” She leaned toward Michael. “Don’t you think it’s really strange that no one has reported any money and a ring missing? Where do you suppose it came from?”
Michael shrugged.
“I’ve tried to remember everyone I saw at the library that day. And I don’t recall anyone coming near my purse with or without a pouch.”
“You said your purse was in your car for a while. Maybe Maggie turned her back and someone slipped it in through the window without her seeing them.”
“Could be, I guess. But I have to say, I sure don’t like someone knowing who I am when I don’t have the slightest idea who they are.” She squinted her eyes. “And, Michael, if someone did this on purpose, why hasn’t that person contacted me to get the money back?”
****
“Hi, Craig,” Savannah said upon entering his house later that morning. “You look…” she studied his face before continuing, “…well, a little better.” Before he could respond, Iris stepped out of the kitchen. “Hi!” Savannah greeted. “Is he behaving himself?”
“Pretty much,” Iris said, smiling at her husband. She took off her apron and folded it into a nearby drawer, then picked up her purse and jacket. “Well, I have things to do at the inn. We have an employee meeting today.” She winked. “I’ll see you later.” Before stepping out the door, she called, “Coffee’s made. There’s hot water for tea on the stove. Help yourself.”
Savannah waved. “Bye.”
“Come sit…” Craig started. He chuckled. “…wherever there isn’t a cat or a dog.”
Savannah promptly spotted the torbie lying in a cat bed in front of a wall heater. “Oh, hi there Ruby.” She turned to Craig. “You brought them home already?”
“Yeah, Maggie delivered them last night.”
She laughed and spoke to the cat. “Boy, have you fallen into the lap of luxury.” She asked Craig, “Where’s Maxine?”
“Come look,” he said, grinning. “On the other side of the wall heater in her bed.”
“Cute. And Tommy? How does he fit into the scheme of things around here now?”
“Oh, he’s still the master of the house.” Craig motioned for her to follow him into the kitchen, where the large male cat lay curled up with the family dog in the dog’s bed.
Savannah smiled. “Looks like everyone’s found their place. It’s one happy family.”
Craig winced. “Until mealtime—what a madhouse. Everyone wants to eat now. None of them has an ounce of patience. I can’t serve the food very fast, you know, with this bum arm. Sometimes, I think they’re going to start a full-blown riot.”
Savannah laughed.
“Let’s sit in here, shall we?” Craig said, motioning toward the living room. “Now, I want to hear what’s going on with those weirdo women who’ve been harassing you. Start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out.”
Chapter 6
“What’s this?” Michael asked as he looked through the stack of mail later that afternoon.
Savannah glanced up while stirring spaghetti sauce. “What?”
“This check from some publishing company. Good lord, it’s made out to you. Is this some sort of mistake, Savannah?”
She smiled. “I guess not. I thought so at first, but I called Rob and he says that’s our share of quarterly royalties from Rags’s documentary and the children’s books.” She faced him. “Oh, he wants to do another photo shoot this week.” She rolled her eyes. “Can you believe it…with all we have going on?”
“Twenty thousand dollars,” he read slowly from the check. “How can that be?�
��
“I know. Like I said, I questioned it, too. I guess the promoters are doing a good job. The books seem to be selling everywhere, according to Rob. He says the money just keeps rolling in.” Sounding a little giddy, she added, “Isn’t it amazing? I mean, what a great Christmas bonus.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, unbelievable.” When he noticed Rags sitting nearby taking a lick bath, he said, “Rags, old boy, it looks like you’re finally paying your way.”
“Yeah, big time.” She chuckled. “I haven’t even told my aunt. She’d never believe it, anyway.”
“Isn’t she getting royalties? Her cats were involved in the little children’s books.”
“Yeah. She called all excited to tell me about her five-hundred-dollar check.”
“Now that makes me even more suspicious that this is a mistake, Savannah.”
“Why?”
He looked the check over again. “Why would your aunt, who has two cats in the books, get such a small percentage compared to this very large check?”
“I asked Rob that, too. Maybe he’ll explain it to you at the party.”
“Oh, he’ll be here?”
“Yes, I invited him and Cheryl.”
Michael looked sternly at her. “Now, you’re not doing the photo shoot at the same place you did it last time, are you?”
“Oh no. We’re going to a different studio. There should be no problems. But, to answer your question about that check, it has to do with Rags being the primary character, a licensing fee we get, and royalties from the documentary, too.” She turned off the stove burner and faced Michael. “You remember those checks we got a few years ago after the documentary first aired. They were pretty hefty.”
“Yeah, but not this hefty.”
“I guess they’re running it more often or on larger networks,” Savannah reasoned. “Maybe it’s gone viral on the Internet. Who knows?” She wrapped her arms around him. “All I know is I’m going to deposit that sucker.”
“Okay. Just don’t start spending it until we’re sure it’s real,” Michael instructed.
She tousled his straight dark-brown hair. “Oh, don’t be such a skeptic.”
He grinned at her, then asked, “So what did you and Craig come up with this morning? Any viable solutions? Can he arrest those gals who are harassing you?”
She laughed. “I don’t think that’s going to happen, unless…”
“Unless what?”
“Well, unless they do something to break the law, I guess.” Savannah placed a salad on the kitchen table and started plating their spaghetti. “Will you get the iced tea?” she asked. She then said, “Craig advises us to get an attorney. He gave me the name of someone and I’m meeting with her Thursday. I was hoping you could join us. We set the time tentatively for noon. Can you get away?”
“Sure, should be able to. Where are you meeting her?”
“Her office—not far from the clinic, actually.”
“More, Mommy,” Lily called from her high chair.
“More what?” Michael moved closer to the toddler. “More tickles?” he asked tickling her until she giggled. “More kisses?” he said, blowing raspberries on her neck.
“No, Daddy,” Lily complained, still giggling. “More cookie.”
“Cookie?” he asked. “You’re having cookies before supper?”
Savannah laughed. “Well, it’s a cookie to her. It’s actually a baby rice cracker.”
Michael tickled the baby again. “That’s right, everything’s a cookie to you.”
Suddenly, they heard a deafening crash. Michael ran toward the sound. “Damn,” he said when he saw that the large living room window had been shattered and shards of glass lay scattered across the floor. By the time Savannah entered the room with Lily in her arms, Michael had darted out the front door.
“Uh-oh,” Lily said, looking at Savannah through her big blue eyes.
“Uh-oh, is right, honey,” Savannah crooned.
“They got away,” Michael said moments later, gasping a little for breath as he reentered the room. He shook his head. “Why the large plate-glass window, for heaven’s sake?”
Savannah snickered nervously. “You’d rather they broke a different window?”
“Well, that’s only the most expensive window in the house,” he complained.
“Did you see who it was?”
“No. It’s dark out. All I saw were taillights. Looked like they belonged to a pretty good-sized pickup truck, but I couldn’t see the color of it or anything.”
“Wait, look,” Savannah said.
“Stay away from that broken glass with your slippers on,” he warned. “What is it you see?”
She pointed. “There. A rock with a note on it. What a coward,” she murmured.
“Cow?” Lily chirped, looking at her mother.
“Yeah, a cow threw a rock through our window,” Michael said, laughing.
Savannah frowned. “I don’t see the humor, Michael. What if Lily had been playing in here this evening?”
Michael looked at her, then crouched and examined the rock before picking it up. He removed the rubber band holding the handwritten note, smoothed the lined paper, and read, “Take my call or I’ll have you arrested!”
“Okay, we’ve narrowed the identity of the coward down to two people,” Michael said. “I wonder which scam artist it is.”
****
“I’m so excited,” Margaret said as she placed a carrier containing her black-and-white cat, Jack, in the back of Savannah’s SUV the following morning. “I love getting those big checks from the publishing company.” She grinned from ear to ear. “Makes my day.” She went back into her house and returned with Layla, then slid into the passenger seat with the tangerine faux-Persian in her arms. “You got a check, didn’t you, Vannie?”
“Yes. It’s a nice surprise at Christmastime, isn’t it?”
“Sure is.” Margaret turned toward Savannah. “Do you think it makes a difference in sales when we take the cats to book signings? Sure seems like it does to me. I think we should do more of that. Maybe we could go on the road with the cats and stop at bookstores all along the way to do signings.”
“Rob could probably arrange that if you want to do it,” Savannah suggested.
“Sure. Let’s plan a trip—maybe in the spring.”
“Yeah, maybe. But don’t forget,” Savannah said, rubbing her bulging tummy, “I’m having a baby in May.”
“Oh, that’s right,” she said sounding disappointed. She perked up. “Well, maybe we can go after Christmas—just for a few days. We can hit book stores in San Francisco, San Jose, Oakland. If we take a week, we could drive down to Los Angeles, stay with your mom, and do a few appearances down there. See what Rob thinks about that.”
“Yeah, I’ll ask him.”
“Where’s Lily today?” Margaret asked.
“Helena’s keeping an eye on her. She’s making a couple of dishes for the party. Helena likes using our kitchen.”
“The birthday party?” Margaret asked. “Already? That’s—what—more than two weeks away, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But there’s room in the freezer. I believe in getting things done ahead of time so the hostess can also enjoy the party.” Savannah faced her aunt briefly as she drove. “I plan to put out my Christmas decorations early, too. I want a festive atmosphere for the party.”
“You sound organized,” Margaret said. “So what are you serving?”
“Italian. I’ve decided to serve lasagna, chicken parm, spaghetti, salads, bread sticks, and gelato. Some of the sauces can be made ahead. We’ll do Mexican at Christmas.”
“Mexican?”
Savannah grinned at her aunt. “Michael’s already tired of turkey, ham, and sweet potatoes. So I told him I’d do something different for our Christmas Eve dinner.”
“Poor baby,” Margaret said sarcastically.
“You’re coming ov
er on Christmas Eve aren’t you?” Savannah asked.
Margaret nodded, then said, “Mexican, huh? Well, I guess that’ll be okay. Not traditional, but okay.”
“Traditional for those living in Mexico.” Savannah slowed the car. “I think it’s in this block. Oh, there—Christie’s Photos.”
“Let’s hope things go more smoothly this time.” When Savannah ignored her aunt, Margaret added, “Don’t you? I mean, what a fiasco it turned out to be the last time the cats did a photo shoot—Rags finding that guy’s drugs and spilling the powder all over the floor and all…”
“Yes, I remember. Rob assured me nothing like that will happen today.” She stepped out of the car. “Oh, there he is. Hi Rob,” she said, walking up and hugging him.
“Hi, ladies. Are the cool cats ready for their photo shoot?”
“Sure are,” Margaret said excitedly, exiting the car carefully with Layla in her arms.
Savannah opened the tailgate of the SUV, snapped Rags’s leash to his harness and urged him to jump from the car, making room for Rob to reach in and retrieve Jack’s carrier. “Oh, this is nice,” she said as they entered the studio.
Margaret glanced around. “Wow! We’re in the forest today.”
Rob nodded. “Yes, this story follows the cats on an adventure in the woods.” He pointed. “They run into a dinosaur, an elephant, a tiger, a macaw...the kids are going to love it!”
“Hello,” came a voice from behind them. “Look at the cute cats! Aren’t they awesome?” The blond woman, who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, offered Savannah her hand. “I’m Christie, by the way.” She tilted her head. “I’m guessing you’re Savannah.”
“Yes,” Savannah motioned toward her aunt. “This is Marg…I mean, Maggie.”
“Hi,” Margaret said, awkwardly shaking hands with the woman. She smiled down at the cat in her arms. “This is Layla, that’s Jack in the carrier, and the big boy there snooping around is Savannah’s cat, Rags.”
“Oh, yes, I recognize Rags. He’s quite the movie star, isn’t he? And he seems to photograph well.” Christie wrapped her long hair into a knot at the base of her neck and picked up a camera. “It’s amazing how some cats can be as catlike as any other cat, yet be more photogenic than most. I think it has something to do with their personality.” She watched as Savannah glanced around the room to make sure it was secure before removing Rags’s harness. “A cat’s personality seems to show through in photos, whether it’s placid, gregarious, or,” she nodded toward Rags, “…even a little naughty.” She chuckled. “Rob told me he’s a klepto.”
