Meow and Forever

by Patricia Fry

  He grimaced. “Not yet. But we’re close. We will get him…or her.”

  “Her?” Savannah said. “A woman took him?” She widened her eyes. “Craig, there was a woman at our meeting yesterday.” She stopped herself. “I guess I told you that. We don’t know anything about her, and she was behaving rather oddly.”

  Craig shook his head. “No. We still don’t know who took him, but we’re closing in and checking every possible lead. Crossing things off the list is just as important as finding clues. We’ll narrow it down, and then we’ll know who our culprit is.”

  “Okay. So is there anything you can tell me?”

  “Sure, I learned a few things about the beret man from Arthur.”

  “You did? What?” Savannah asked eagerly.

  “Well, he’s an actor, as you may know, and part of a little theater group in San Francisco. As I understand it, he’s not getting many paying parts these days and his funds are diminishing, so he’s taking on some unusual side jobs. At least I’d consider them unusual—doorman, food-delivery guy, valet…” He chuckled. “Arthur said he takes every role very seriously, whether he’s rehearsing for a play or delivering a pizza. He goes the extra mile with role-playing. Know what I mean?”

  “I guess so. What about the others we consider suspects—the delivery man at the nursing home, the man checking our gas meter or whatever, the man who went to Auntie’s…”

  “We’re looking for all of them as we speak. I have feelers out all over the place. Nothing to report yet, I’m afraid.” Craig stood up and looked into her eyes. “Stay strong. We will find him.”

  “In San Francisco?” she asked, weakly.

  “Wherever he is. Once we know more about this guy, we’ll put out bulletins. Rags has quite a following, doesn’t he?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, fans are sometimes our best detectives in situations like this.”

  “You’ve had situations like this before?” Iris asked.

  “Well, not exactly like this, but yeah, missing animals, cars, persons…” He looked down at his plate. “That’s all I have to report today. You girls have a good walk. Got your phone with you in case something happens on my end?”

  Savannah and Iris both nodded.

  ****

  The two women had been walking and talking for a while when they approached a freshly painted picket fence.

  “Isn’t this where Liam lives?” Savannah asked. “Hey, they’ve been doing some fixing up around here.” She gazed across the yard. “Looks nice.”

  “Yes, a neighbor told me that some of the teens got together and decided to do something nice for Madeline and Liam. Look, there he is,” Iris said. She smiled. “Hi, Liam. How’s your new kitty?” She said to Savannah. “He has a new kitty. Did you know that?”

  “No. That’s wonderful,” Savannah said.

  “Want to see her?” the boy asked excitedly.

  They heard a voice bellow from the house, “Liam, who are you talking to?”

  “My friends,” he said, running to join his mother at the door. He pointed. “See, it’s those ladies with Rags.” He asked Savannah, “Where’s Rags?”

  “Um…oh, he’s not with us today. I’d sure like to meet your kitty, though, if it’s okay.”

  “Yes.” Madeline stepped outside and approached the two women. “It’s really a nice cat. My gosh, nothing like most cats—you know, she’s friendly, clean, well-mannered, and funny as all get out. Yeah, this cat’s different.”

  “Of course she is,” Savannah said, smiling. When Liam returned from the house with a small fur ball in his arms, she felt instant emotion. “She’s beautiful,” Savannah gushed, taking the fluffy grey-and-white kitten from the boy. “What’s her name?”

  “Fluffy,” he said, proudly.

  “I like that. Liam, it looks like you’re taking good care of her,” Savannah said, snuggling with the kitten.

  “He’d darn well better,” his mother said. When she saw the two women staring at her, she changed her tone a little. “Well, she’s just so special, that’s all. She deserves to be treated good.”

  Both Savannah and Iris smiled.

  Savannah said, “Your yard looks nice.”

  “Yes, thanks to those kids up the street. They finally figured out that there’s more to life than smoking and lazing around all day. They do odd jobs for me, and I bake for them.” Madeline leaned forward, sharing proudly, “They love my lemon meringue pie.”

  “Cool.” Savannah passed Fluffy back over the fence to Liam. “Good to see you both. So glad you’re doing well.” She ruffled the fur on the kitten’s head. “I just love little Fluffy. What a cutie.”

  Madeline smiled and started to walk away with Liam, then turned and said to Iris, “By the way, I saw workers over there a few days ago at the gnarly tree you’re so fascinated with.”

  Iris turned to her.

  “Yeah, I’m told they closed up that fissure or whatever it was so folks won’t get that crazy feeling no more,” Madeline added.

  “Crazy feeling?” Iris questioned.

  “You know, it was like something was squirting out of the ground, and it was freaking people out. Well, it’s not doing that no more.”

  “Oh!” Iris said, looking in the direction of the tree. “Did they say what it was?”

  Madeline shrugged. “Not that I know of, but I think the county council was afraid it was dangerous somehow and they might get sued, so they fixed it for good.”

  Savannah couldn’t help but chuckle when she saw Iris’s expression, but she didn’t comment until they’d moved on down the trail, away from Madeline and her son. “So I guess that wasn’t a healing spa, huh?”

  “Sheesh, I don’t know,” Iris said.

  “A gas leak?” Savannah suggested.

  Iris grabbed Savannah’s arm. “Oh, that would have been awful if I’d opened a spa over a natural-gas leak.”

  “Yeah, you wouldn’t get many return clients. You’d be asphyxiating them all the first time around.”

  “Don’t say that!” Iris demanded. “No, that wasn’t gas escaping. It couldn’t be. We would have smelled it, right?”

  “You’d think so,” Savannah agreed.

  “Well, I believe those workers tampered with a natural hot spring or electromagnetic field,” Iris insisted.

  “Or maybe it was the utility company fixing a short in their equipment,” Savannah suggested.

  “Huh?”

  “In that case you won’t be giving shock treatments to clients. Whew! You sure dodged a bullet there, girlfriend.”

  “Awww, Savannah, that wasn’t anything man-made, I tell you; it was natural, and I just missed out on a great money-making opportunity by not jumping on it more quickly. Darn,” she said, stomping her feet.

  Savannah looped her arm in Iris’s. “Oh, come on. Things aren’t that bad. You still have your beautiful inn, a great reputation there, and a few decorating clients. What do you need with another burden?”

  “Burden?” she shrieked. “It might have been a really good moneymaker.”

  Savannah smirked at her friend. “Well, it is no more—so get over it.”

  “I’m over it,” Iris said. “Yeah, maybe it wouldn’t have been such a good idea.” She faced Savannah. “But what about your grandpa and the mention of that spot in his book? Folks knew about it way back before they laid gas lines and electric lines; besides, the electric lines here are above ground. Yeah, I think whoever closed up that fissure or whatever it is, covered up a very important natural…um…something.”

  “You’re not going to give it up, are you?” Savannah scolded.

  “Are you going to give up on your cat?” Iris asked.

  When Savannah began to tear up, Iris, hugged her and said, “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean it. Of course, Rags is more important than any old hole in the ground.”

  Before Savannah could respond, her phone chimed. “Hi, Craig,” she said.

  “I think we’ve got our
guy.”

  Savannah suddenly stopped. “What? Did you find Rags?”

  “No, not yet, but I think we know who has him.”

  “Which one of those suspects is it?” Savannah asked.

  “All of them,” he said, matter-of-factly, “or at least some of them.”

  “What?”

  “He’s dedicated to the theater, Savannah, and a master of disguise. One of his jobs was as a makeup artist in Hollywood. And,” he paused, “he once worked in the circus—you know, when circuses were cool, and relatively safe. Know what he did?”

  “What?” Savannah asked.

  “Lion tamer.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Savannah said. “But that still doesn’t explain why he wants Rags so badly.”

  “I’m afraid we don’t have an answer to that part of the puzzle yet. But I’m having my friend on the San Francisco Police Department, Pat Patterson, look the guy up as we speak, and when we find him, I’m certain we’ll find your cat.”

  “What great news. Oh, Craig, I sure hope…”

  “Whoa,” he said, “if it happens the way we think it will, yes, it’s very good news. But we aren’t there yet. We don’t know if he actually has him, if he ever had him, if he handed him off to someone… There are still a lot of unknowns. Just know that we’re working on it, and we think we’re close to finding him.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  Craig cleared his throat, then asked, “So are you gals having a good walk? Did you get a thrill on Blueberry Hill?”

  “What?” Savannah asked.

  “At that squirty place my wife keeps talking about. Did it shock or spit on you or whatever?”

  “No. It seems it’s been repaired, or at least closed up. No more thrill on Blueberry Hill,” Savannah said, chuckling.

  ****

  Savannah couldn’t wait to share the potentially good news with Michael and Gladys that evening when they all came together at the dinner table.

  “So it was the man in the beret?” Gladys asked.

  “Evidently,” Savannah said, “and the man who visited Auntie, and the delivery guy and…”

  “One and the same?” Michael asked. “All disguises?”

  “I guess so. I wonder which one he really is,” Savannah said. “I mean what does it say on his driver’s license?”

  “It’s doubtful he has one. He seems to always be taking a taxi,” Gladys reminded her.

  “Has Craig actually found the guy?” Michael asked. “Has he been detained?”

  “I haven’t heard,” Savannah said. “His friend in the San Francisco Police Department is going to confront the actor and hopefully find Rags with him. That would be ideal.”

  “Yes, it would,” Michael agreed. In an attempt to change the subject, he asked, “So are you ready for the big event on Saturday?”

  “No. But Iris reminded me I don’t really have a lot to do. We have a committee. Mom and I’ll put pretty bows on some of my jelly and jam jars for the raffle table. I may have to iron some tablecloths—things like that. Are Antonio and Juan still planning to help you set up the tables and chairs?”

  “Yes,” Michael said.

  “Thank heavens for committees,” Gladys cheered.

  “Oh yes. And we have some really good committee members in the cat alliance,” Savannah said. “The best, actually.”

  Gladys smiled.

  When Savannah’s phone rang, she stood up. “Sorry guys, I have to get it. It could be Craig.”

  “It’s okay, hon,” Michael said.

  “Hi, Craig. Did you find him?”

  “We found the perp, yes. Patterson has a bead on where he might be. So far, though, they haven’t been able to put their hands on him.”

  “Doesn’t he have an address?” she asked.

  “He’s currently crashing on a wharf, probably in one of the warehouses or storage units that have been converted into apartments,” Craig explained. “Patterson doesn’t know which of the series of warehouse conversions he’s staying in, but he’s evidently there in order to stay in character.”

  “Stay in character?” she asked.

  “Yes, he wants to try out for a part that takes place in a warehouse district in Chicago, so he’s trying to acclimate himself to the circumstances.”

  “Wow! He sounds dedicated. But is Rags with him? Is there any evidence that he has Rags?” Savannah asked.

  “Once they find him, if Rags isn’t with him they’ll check for cat fur on his clothes and belongings,” Craig explained. “From there, if he isn’t talking we’ll put the screws to him. Oh, he’ll talk,” he assured her.

  “Well, let me know,” Savannah begged. “I’m on pins and needles here.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Craig said compassionately. “I believe you’ll have your cat home sooner rather than later. The guy’s gotta make a mistake.”

  “Can you find him through one of his employers—you know for one of those jobs—food delivery or whatever?” Savannah asked.

  “We’re doing that as we speak,” Craig said. “We know where some of his acting buddies hang out and we have people checking on that as well. Talk soon.”

  Chapter Seven

  The next day Savannah was surprised by an early-morning call. “Rochelle, hi! How are you?”

  “I’m good. Can you talk?”

  “Yeah, is everything okay? Why are you calling so early?” “I’m sorry,” Rochelle said. “I didn’t get you up, did I?”

  Savannah pulled her light robe around herself. “No. I’m up, but just barely. What’s going on?”

  “I was concerned about you.”

  “Me? Why?” Savannah asked.

  Rochelle paused. “Savannah, is Rags all right? I mean…”

  “Rochelle, do you know something? Tell me. Do you know where he is?”

  “Oh no, Savannah. So something is wrong. I sure hoped it was an errant image that meant nothing. What happened?”

  “What do you see, Rochelle?” Savannah begged. “It didn’t occur to me to call you. I keep forgetting about your…um…gift. Do you know where he is?”

  “I’m afraid not,” she said, “at least not precisely.” Rochelle asked compassionately, “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Savannah wailed. “After we got home from San Francisco, I started getting calls from some guy who said he wanted to buy Rags. Then there were strange men showing up under suspicious circumstances, and…”

  “Strange men?”

  “Well, it turns out it was probably the same guy, only he used disguises.”

  “Oh,” Rochelle exclaimed. “That explains why my vision was so confusing to me. Of course. Now I get it.”

  “Get what?” Savannah asked. “What do you know, Rochelle?”

  “Nothing, really. It’s just that…” She sighed deeply. “Well, I was awakened last night by a cat, and I was pretty sure it was your cat, Rags. I sensed that he was…”

  “In danger?” Savannah blurted. “Is he in danger?”

  “I don’t think so, except…”

  “What, Rochelle?”

  “Well, he’s not happy, I can tell you that. He doesn’t want to be where he is. He desperately wants to be with you.”

  “Ohhh, poor Ragsie. He misses me?”

  “That’s the message I received loud and clear,” Rochelle said. “He’s being treated okay, but he’s…well, I’d say uncomfortable. I mean he’s uncomfortable on many levels.”

  “Uncomfortable?” Savannah repeated.

  “Yes, I’m not sure, but I think he’s confined, for one thing, so he’s physically uncomfortable. Wait! It’s not an enclosure as much as it’s like a…a cocoon or a corset.”

  “A corset?” Savannah questioned.

  Rochelle paused for a moment. “Yes, that’s what keeps coming to me, the image of him in a corset.”

  “Where is he? Can he tell you where he is?” Savannah begged. “Who has him? Do you see who has him?”

  “Th
at’s the odd part,” Rochelle said. “I keep sensing water. A lot of water. He could be near where they keep boats.”

  “A harbor? But where? There are a lot of harbors and piers and ocean here in California, as you know.”

  “I know,” Rochelle groaned. “Savannah, I wish I could give you something more specific. Listen, I’ll do some meditating today and see if the images become more clear to me.”

  “Thank you, Rochelle. I’m encouraged! At least it sounds like maybe he’s not in danger. But that corset thing is a little disturbing. I wish I knew what that was about. Yes, let me know if you get a clearer image. And thank you for calling.”

  “Sure. I hesitated calling. Truly, I hoped that was just a crazy dream with no bearing on reality, but…”

  “Yes, it could be real. Rochelle, you’ve actually made me feel a little better. Now if we can just find him before anything bad happens to him.”

  “Keep good thoughts, Savannah,” Rochelle suggested. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Who’s not in danger?” Michael asked, stepping out of the bathroom.

  “Rags,” she said brightly. She looked down at the phone in her hand. “That was Rochelle. She had a vision. She didn’t even know Rags was missing, and she said he came to her in a dream or something and he seems okay. He might be on a boat or at least near boats.”

  Michael stared at her for a moment, then rubbed his wet hair with a towel, asking, “How often is Rochelle right about these things?”

  “I don’t know, but I think I’ve known her to be right more often than not.” She tilted her head. “Michael, as foreign as her weird insightfulness is to me, I have to admit she’s sure been right about a lot of things over the years that we’ve known her. I can’t even remember a time when she wasn’t. Can you?” “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t really pay much attention when she has those vision things.” He pulled a shirt on over his head. “So she says the old boy communicated with her? And he seems to be okay?”

  “Yes!” she said gleefully. She laughed. “But he’s not happy with the corset he’s wearing.”

  Michael faced her. “Say what?”

  “Rochelle saw him wearing a corset or something like a corset, and he says it’s too confining. He doesn’t like it.”