Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 03 - Sleight of Paw

by Patricia Fry

  Margaret shook her head in disgust. “Iris, my dear, you can’t blame his friends. He made his own decision to do drugs. It was the drugs making him so difficult, don’t you know that?”

  Iris lowered her eyes. “Yeah, you’re right, Maggie.” She looked up and said, “They tell us at Al-Anon that we have to fight going into denial. I’ve been in denial for much too long.” Smiling brightly, she said, “Craig is really helping me change my thoughts—my way of thinking.” She became serious for a moment. “Makes a big difference. It really does.”

  “That’s cool, Iris,” Max said, while scooping up more of the dessert with his spoon. “Sounds like you and Damon are turning over a new leaf.”

  “Yes,” she said, glancing around the table, “and the relationship between the younger boys and Damon is getting better, too. You know, Damon was eleven when I married the boys’ father. Chris and Brett were just toddlers. Damon was rather fond of his new little brothers at first, especially Brett. It wasn’t long after that two-timing man left me and his sons that Damon started getting into trouble and things went sour with him and the younger boys.” She stared off into space for a moment and then said, “As you know, his lifestyle affected all of us.” Her bright-red lips curved into a smile, revealing her carefully whitened teeth. “Now he and Brett write back and forth—real letters—no cell phones or texting for prisoners. And the boys go there with me to visit sometimes.”

  “How long were you married to Jack Clampton…four or five years?” Margaret asked.

  Iris frowned, narrowed her eyes. “Five miserable years. Damon was nearly seventeen when he left, and Chris and Brett were seven and eight.” She hesitated. A grin washed over her attractive face. “Craig is working with Damon.”

  “Really?” Michael set his fork down and wiped his mouth with his napkin.

  “Yes. He visits him alone, you know, using special cop privileges, and he’s helping him to work a drug program right there in the prison. It’s a sort of all-around confidence-building, distraction sort of technique he’s using. It’s a healing program and it also involves creativity. I had no idea how important creativity is to a human being.” She paused before sharing, “Did you know that Damon has an interest in writing? He’s been writing poetry and short stories. Says it makes him feel real good when he’s writing.” She leaned back in her chair, holding her hands palm-up in front of her. “Who knew?”

  Michael smiled across at Iris. “That’s really great news.”

  Margaret shook her head, a pensive look on her face. “Iris, I still can’t believe you’re dating the cop who was going to arrest you for murder last year.”

  “Yeah,” Iris let out a forced laugh. “I’ve met some interesting men in some interesting ways, but this was definitely a first for me.” She took a sip of coffee before adding, “And something new for Craig, too.”

  Savannah leaned forward in her chair and addressed her friend, “Iris, you do believe in fate, don’t you? I mean, how else would the universe have put the two of you together unless you were a suspect of some sort?”

  She scoffed. “Hell, kiddo, I can think of a lot of ways—he could be a customer at the diner, he could save me from a pickpocket, he could be having a drink at a local club when I walk in, he could come to the boys’ school and talk about police work…” She took a breath, her perfectly made-up eyes flashing with mischief. “He could run out of gas in front of my house, bump into me in the produce aisle at the grocery store, come to my door selling tickets to the policemen’s ball…”

  “Be serious, Iris,” Margaret scolded. “Things never happen the way we expect. Look at me and Max. He came all the way from Chicago, moved in next door, and started a cat-rescue shelter.”

  Max straightened his posture. “Yeah, and you wouldn’t give me the time of day until I rescued you from that relative of yours.”

  “Well, I was waiting for you to come riding in on a white horse,” she said, faking innocence. Before her husband could respond, Margaret continued, “And look at Savannah and Michael. I broke my foot so Savannah would get her cute little butt up here and start kanoodling with our handsome veterinarian.”

  “Kanoodling? Auntie, that sounds vulgar,” Savannah complained amidst a kitchen lively with laughter.

  Margaret tilted her head, a wily grin on her lips. “Wellll?”

  “Yeah, Auntie,” Savannah said, smiling briefly at her handsome husband, “I guess it was fortuitous that you broke your foot and that I came to help you out. How else would Michael and I have found each other—with me down in LA and him up here in Northern California?”

  “Wait,” Michael said, frowning, “are you telling me this was some sort of conspiracy? I thought it was my idea to fall for my beautiful wife.” He looked suspiciously at Savannah. “You tricked me?”

  Savannah reached out and slapped playfully at Michael.

  “Ouch, that hurt. Be careful, I was injured fighting for your honor, you know.” He pretended to sulk.

  “I’m sorry, honey. Kiss kiss,” she said as everyone laughed.

  Michael grinned. “Finally, I get some sympathy.”

  ***

  The Monday evening headlines of the small-town Hammond Daily screamed, “Veterinarian Brutally Beaten by Dead Dog’s Owner.”

  Savannah heard the front door open and close. “Where are you?” Michael called out.

  “Kitchen!”

  “Did you see the paper tonight, hon?” he asked as he approached her. He slapped it down on the kitchen table. “It looks like Gamble’s out on bail.”

  “Yeah, I saw it,” Savannah said somberly, turning away from the counter to face her husband. “My cell phone has been ringing like crazy all afternoon.”

  He lowered his brow. “Why? Who’s been calling?”

  “Well-wishers mostly. You know, our friends.”

  With a sigh of relief he said, “Oh, I thought maybe it was clients concerned about their pets.”

  “Noooo, Michael.” She walked over and put her arms around his neck in a hug. Pulling back a little so she could look at him, she asked, “You don’t think this is going to scare people away, do you? No one’s going to believe you were negligent. You have a great reputation in this town, honey.”

  “Savannah,” he said taking a deep breath, “it can take years to build a good reputation and a few minutes to ruin it.” He released her hands from around his neck, squeezed them, and turned away.

  “But you did nothing wrong.”

  “I hope I didn’t make a mistake with that dog.” He stood leaning with his hands on the back of a kitchen chair, his head down.

  “Of course, you didn’t.”

  He turned toward her. “It doesn’t really matter what did or didn’t happen; an accusation like this can be damaging.” He paused and then began to tear up. “I’m worried about our practice.”

  “This really does have you shook up. I’m so sorry it happened. But I don’t think we should go through life with such heavy regret that it interferes with living.”

  Michael lowered himself into the chair and put his head in his hands. Savannah looked down at him with sadness in her heart. How can I help this man? she wondered. I just hate to see him so beaten down. Finally, she said, “Michael, don’t let one unreasonable jerk spoil even one minute of your life. Sure, you feel badly about losing the dog. This is every veterinarian’s nightmare and one that we all must live through more times than we care to think about. Losing Brute is something you will need to come to terms with. And you will. You’ve had situations like this before. You grieve, you try to figure out what happened so it never happens again, and you move on. The equation that’s in the way for you now is that horrible, unbalanced man. His opinion is wrong! His opinion doesn’t count. You can’t take it seriously. You can’t take him seriously.”

  Savannah moved around and stood in front of her husband. “Michael, look at me. You didn’t do anything wrong. The guy’s off his rocker. No one’s going to believe what he says agains
t you—you have loyal clients who have trusted you for a long time.”

  “Yeah, I know. I guess I’m overwrought and overreacting.” He put his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap. “What would I do without you?” he asked into her hair.

  She chuckled. “Sure wouldn’t want to find that out.”

  “Neither would I.”

  They held each other for a while and then Savannah pulled back and said, “Now, I have good news.”

  He took a deep breath…coughed a little. “I could use a dose of that. What is it?”

  She smiled. Using her most enticing tone, she said, “Adam’s coming this weekend.”

  Michael perked up immediately, his eyes bright; a smile on his face. “Really?” And then he cocked his head and asked, “Why? I thought they were bringing him over next week.”

  “Marci called to ask how we are. One thing led to another and we decided you could use some cheering up.” Her ever-so-slight frown lines suddenly became obvious. “Adam heard his parents talking about what happened and got concerned about us.” Her face brightened as she explained, “Marci and Eric thought it would be good for him to see you, if you’re up to it.”

  “Up to it! Gosh, that would make my day—my weekend—my whole week.” The couple stood and he hugged her to him. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “What for?”

  He held her at arm’s length and looked deeply into her eyes. “For being my wife, for loving my son, for getting along so well with Marci, for caring so much about me.” He wrapped his arms around her again and said, “For being you. I love you, Savannah.”

  “I love you, too Michael. And thank you.”

  “For what?”

  She choked up a little. “For saying all those nice things to me.” Gaining her composure, Savannah turned to her husband and asked, “Are you hungry? I put together a nice chopped salad and I can make some cheesy toast points or heat up some soup to go with it.”

  “The salad sounds fine. I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty tired tonight. I’d like to eat light and go to bed early.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “Meow. Meow. Meeeoooowwww.”

  The couple looked over in time to see Rags pacing back and forth on the perch Michael had installed for the cats so they could view the out-of-doors through the large kitchen window.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Michael asked.

  “I don’t know. Something outside has his interest.” She started to walk toward him to look out the window when he scampered down the kitty staircase and darted into the dining room, through to the living room. Savannah followed him. “What is it, Rags? Did you see a critter?”

  When she caught up with the cat, he was standing next to the front door in the living room, his front paws on the small sill. He seemed to be trying to peer out through the stained glass window. Savannah could hear a low growl coming from him. “Rags, what’s wrong?” Then she called out, “Michael, something’s wrong!”

  Unbeknownst to Savannah, Michael was right behind her. He had also observed the cat’s odd behavior and he opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch. Suddenly Savannah heard her husband yelling, “Let her go!” He then shouted, “Savannah, call the sheriff! Call the sheriff!”

  She quickly followed Michael out through the door while dialing 9-1-1 on her cell phone. She didn’t know what the emergency was until she looked up and saw someone carrying Lexie down their long driveway toward the highway. She felt as if her heart jumped up into her throat as she watched Michael run after the person who was sprinting away, his arms wrapped tightly around the thirty-five pound dog.

  “Let her go! Let her go!” Michael called.

  Upon hearing Michael’s voice, Lexie began squirming and flailing her legs, making it difficult for the person to hold onto her. Finally, the dognapper tripped and fell, losing his grip on the dog. Lexie hit the ground hard. She yelped and then jumped to her feet and ran as fast as she could toward Michael. “Call Lexie!!” Michael shouted as he continued his pursuit.

  “Come, Lexie! Come!” Savannah yelled, leaning over and slapping her right thigh with her free hand. She was just finishing up with the 9-1-1 operator when she saw Lexie slow toward Michael. The dog spotted Savannah and rushed past him to her. “Good girl, Lexie,” Savannah said as she pocketed her phone, lowered herself to the porch step and began petting and hugging the dog. Lexie wriggled and licked at Savannah, obviously happy to be safe. But the dog didn’t have Savannah’s entire attention. Her eyes were on Michael, who was still chasing the person they’d seen running away with their dog.

  Not again, she thought. Please God, don’t let him get hurt.

  Michael was gaining on the sprinter. But just before he could get his hands on him, the would-be thief jumped into a waiting car. The passenger door slammed shut, and the driver drove off, spraying gravel up at Michael. He rubbed his eyes as he walked back to the house.

  Savannah headed out toward him, Lexie at her side. “Who was it, Michael? Why did he have Lexie?”

  “I don’t know.” Michael shook his head; he was breathing hard. “I don’t know who it was, but I’ll bet,” he said with venom in his voice and gasping for breath, “it was Pete Gamble. An eye for an eye. That’s about his speed, the jerk.” He then turned to Savannah and asked, while still trying to catch his breath, “How did he get his hands on her?”

  “I let her out in the pen this afternoon not too long before you came home. I forgot about her.” She grimaced. “Gads, how could this happen?”

  “It’s not your fault. We leave her in that pen all the time. There’s never been a problem before.” He reached down and ruffled the dog’s fur. “Come on, Lexie, let’s go in and get your supper.” The dog danced alongside the couple as they walked toward the house.

  “I just hate this,” Savannah said, her eyes filling with tears. “Now our animals are in danger.” She momentarily took her eyes off the ground in front of her and looked toward the porch. Her limp-along pace suddenly quickened. “Oh no you guys don’t.”

  Michael’s eyes followed hers and he, too, began walking faster. There, sitting on the top step, were Rags and Walter. Buffy was standing in the open doorway. “Come on kitties,” Savannah said, “the excitement’s over. Everyone inside where it’s safe.” She looked over at Michael. “At least I hope it’s safe for them. Oh Michael, now I am scared.”

  “I’m flat-out angry,” he said, his face still red from exertion and emotion.

  Savannah put her hand on his arm. “And you’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

  “Would you rather they got away with Lexie?” he snapped.

  “Of course not, Michael. I’m sorry.” She held her breath in an attempt to stop the tears she felt welling up. It was too late. She was too frightened. The tears spilled over and flowed freely down her cheeks.

  Michael promptly turned away, rubbed both hands through his hair, and said, “I didn’t mean that, honey. I’m sorry. I’m going to take a shower. Maybe I’ll feel better about things. Just keep the doors locked and the animals in.” He started down the hallway and then stopped. “Gotta feed the mare. I’ll do it, hon. I don’t want you going out there by yourself this evening.”

  Savannah followed Michael into the kitchen and watched him leave through the side door. That’s when she remembered she hadn’t fed the cats. She grabbed a paper towel and dabbed at her eyes while murmuring an apology to them. After filling the cats’ bowls, she placed them on their mats and stared down at them for a moment as each cat engaged in their individual methods of approaching their food. Suddenly, she noticed that Lexie was also watching them. “Oh, you’re hungry too, aren’t you, girl?” She picked up the dog’s bowl and began preparing her supper.

  Knock, knock.

  Someone’s at the door, Savannah thought. She glanced out through the window. She could still see Michael in the dimness of dusk as he closed the tack room door and headed toward the house. She placed Lexie’s food dish
on the floor and then waited for Michael to walk into the kitchen. “Someone’s at the door, Michael.”

  A look of apprehension crossed his face and he headed boldly toward the living room. He peered through the stained glass side panels and saw a blurred shape. He asked, “Who is it?”

  “Craig Sledge.”

  Michael swung the door open wide and invited the detective inside.

  “It’s Craig,” Michael called out to Savannah, unaware that she had followed him to the door and was standing right behind him.

  “I can see that,” she said, an impish smile dancing momentarily at her lips.

  “Oh,” he said, jumping a little. “I didn’t know you were there.”

  “Sneakin’ up on you, is she, Michael?” Craig laughed.

  “Yeah, she does that.” He then looked over at the detective, motioned for him to come inside and asked, “What brings you out here?”

  “I hear you had a problem just now,” Craig said as he entered the room.

  Michael looked puzzled. “Oh yes, Savannah called. I didn’t expect you to answer the call personally. They don’t usually dispatch you, do they? But then I guess nothing is kept secret from you.”

  “Not if you’re gonna to flirt with the law.” He laughed. Then furrowing his brow, he asked, “So what happened?”

  Michael gestured toward a chair. “Here, Craig, sit down.”

  Once they were seated, Savannah looked over and saw Lexie cautiously entering the room. “Come here, girl, it’s okay.” The dog walked slowly toward her and sat down, resting her chin in Savannah’s lap.