by Patricia Fry
She placed her hands on his arms for a moment and then turned to ask, “How did things go today?”
“Ben and Jim came out and did an investigation. They hope to get prints off the ice pick, of course. They said they will question Pete, but they doubt they’ll learn much. It would be hard to prove he was there, although they did find some tire tracks on the grass beside your car. And they took the note to see if they could find matching paper in his home or office. Whoever did this wasn’t smart enough to use plain typing paper—oh no—they used paper with a logo. Part of the logo was visible.”
“Let’s hope he left behind some good clues. I’m ready for this nonsense to stop. He’s really scaring me.” Savannah reached over and turned off the light on the x-ray reader. She looked at her watch and said, “Ready to go home? It’s nearly six.”
“Yes.”
She removed her lab coat and hung it up on a hook on the back of the door. “What are we driving today?” she asked.
“It’s a surprise,” he grinned. And then he added in a beguiling tone, “It has a seat warmer.”
“Cool.”
“No, warm,” he joked. He reached into his jeans pocket. “My phone,” he said as he pulled it out and put it up to his ear. “Hello?”
“Hello, Michael. Craig Sledge here. I hear you had more excitement over at your place.”
“Yes Craig. We sure did have some excitement this morning—and not the happy kind. Do you know how much tires cost these days?”
“Not really—and you need—what, eight of them?”
“Yes, all four on both cars.”
“So how are you getting around—on Savannah’s horse?” Craig chuckled.
“We have a rental car. Ours should be ready tomorrow.”
“Where are you now?”
“At the clinic. We’re just heading home, why?”
“I have some paperwork I’d like Savannah to sign. Can I come by—say in an hour and a half?”
“Okay, I think we can do that. Let me ask Savannah.” He took the phone away from his ear. “Craig says he wants to talk to us. And you need to fill out a report. He said he can come by our house around 7:30.”
Savannah nodded and he put the phone back up to his ear. “Yes, that’s fine.”
Savannah and Michael turned off the lights, locked up the clinic, and left through the back door, veering to the right toward the parking lot.
“Oh, this is a nice feature,” Savannah said as the passenger-side seat of the rental car began to feel warm.
“Nice, huh? And look at this—it tells you the outside temperature, how much gas you’re using, all sorts of things,” Michael explained.
“It’s only fifty-one degrees outside?” Savannah remarked. “Brrrr. Sometimes it’s best not to know.”
“Kind of chilly for this time of year, isn’t it?”
Savannah let out a sigh. “Yeah, nothing’s quite as it should be right now.”
Michael tightened his lips—reached over and patted Savannah’s knee. “Hey, was there anything you needed to do today that we can do now? You had planned to run some errands.”
“Sure did. I’ll have to do the banking tomorrow. I was going to get a few groceries, but I think we have eggs and bacon, if you don’t mind breakfast for dinner.”
Michael nodded. “Sure, that’s fine. We never have time for that kind of breakfast for breakfast anymore, so why not for dinner?”
***
“Come on in, Craig. Savannah’s just finishing up in the kitchen.” Michael motioned for the detective to be seated. “So, any news?”
“Not much, I’m afraid. The prints on the pick are smudged. We did find tire marks in the grassy area, but they’re pretty nondescript. Appears to be from a small car or pickup. And we didn’t get a match for the paper used for the note—not yet, anyway.” Craig looked past Michael, stood, and greeted Savannah with a nod as she walked into the room.
“Hi Craig,” she said, walking over and hugging him briefly. She sat on the sofa next to a snoozing Walter. She ruffled his luxurious black fur while asking, “So have you traced any clues to Pete Gamble, yet?”
“Nothin’ concrete.” He pulled out a form from a folder and handed it to Savannah. “Here, do you want to sign the report?”
“Sure do.”
After a few minutes of conversation, Craig yawned. “It’s been a long day. I’d better go get somethin’ to eat and head for bed.”
“No date tonight?”
Craig laughed. “You know, I’ve discovered that dating is for the younger set. Iris and I do well to share a meal together once in a while at her house and then we fall asleep watching TV or listening to music. We’re not very exciting.”
“Yeah, you had all of the excitement together you two could stand when you were accusing her of murder.” Savannah laughed.
Craig turned sullen. “Sure glad that case didn’t go the way I expected it to. I would have missed out on the company of a wonderful woman.”
“We tried to tell you that,” she said. “Remember when you were trying to get us to say bad things about Iris?”
The detective creased his brow. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I was just trying to get at the truth and, man, that striking redheaded woman sure seemed to fit the killer profile.” A smile softened his face. “Like I said, I’m sure glad she wasn’t our man…er…uh…you know what I mean.”
Michael and Savannah laughed as they followed Craig toward the front door. “That wind is really blowing tonight,” he said as he opened the door and stepped out.
Savannah wrapped her sweater tightly around her. “Oh, Michael, we’d better pick up the cushions off the porch furniture.”
“Already did,” Michael said with a big smile.
“My aren’t you Johnny-on-the-spot,” she remarked. “Good job.”
***
“It sure howled last night, didn’t it?” Savannah said as she brushed her hair in front of the bathroom mirror the next morning. “I had trouble sleeping. Kept hearing strange noises.”
“Yeah. Sure was a strong wind. I wonder if we still have a horse out there,” Michael quipped.
“Well, I’m sure she was cozy in the nice stall you built for her. Horses know to face away from the wind, anyway.” She glanced over at her husband, who was shaving. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen that silly mare stand out in the rain, though. What’s up with that?”
“Dun na.”
Savannah twisted toward him. “What?” She laughed. “No wonder I couldn’t understand you—your face gets all contorted when you shave—makes your speech unintelligible.”
He rinsed his razor. “I said, ‘Don’t know.’”
“Oh, I thought you were asking for a donut or something.”
“No, that was my shaving vocabulary. You never heard my shaving vocabulary?” He winked. “I have quite a rapport.”
She laughed. “You mean repertoire.” She pulled her blond highlighted hair back into a ponytail and said, “So you don’t know why horses stand in the rain when they have a perfectly good shelter?”
“I think it’s some innate response to the elements, I guess, going back to their origins.”
Savannah stopped and stared over at him, hands on hips. “You just made that up.”
“How do you know?” he asked playfully, wiping the excess shaving cream from his face.
“I know,” she said. And then changing the subject, she suggested, “Hey, Michael, we have a light load at the clinic tomorrow, how about we drive over and pick up Adam in the afternoon when he gets out of school.”
His eyes lit up. “Do you think Marci would agree?” He then looked over at her, a worried expression on his face. “What if…”
“Look, I know what you’re going to say. Michael, we can’t be absolutely sure about anything. But I do know that it would do you and that little boy a world of good to be together right now. I’m going to call Marci.”
“Not this early, are you? It’s only�
��” he looked at his watch. “It’s not even 7:30.”
“Yeah, I’d better wait a while.”
“Great!” He smiled. He then frowned. “You know, we have to work Saturday morning.”
“I know. Adam can either come hang out with us at the clinic or he can go over to Max’s and Auntie’s. You know how he loves helping them with their cats; and they have kittens now. Someone brought an abandoned litter to them a few days ago.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Is his room ready?”
“I think so. I put on that horse-print bedspread that we bought for his room. I hung the curtains. I cleaned up the sawdust. I think we’re all set for our favorite little visitor, aren’t we?”
“I guess so,” Michael said hesitantly.
“Just relax, honey. It will be a good visit.”
“Do we have enough toys in there?”
“Well, let’s just go see.”
“And we’d better go to the grocery store and get his favorite food,” Michael suggested. He stopped midway up the staircase. “What is his favorite food, Savannah?”
“Never mind, Michael. I’ll take care of the food situation. I think we ought to stop for dinner on our way home tomorrow evening. We can go to that chicken place that has kids’ meals. He likes that. He also likes hotdogs on a stick and hamburgers. Oh, he ate two helpings of my Texas hash last time he was here and he loves Jello. I’ll make him lots of Jello.”
“And mac and cheese,” Michael added as they walked through the door into Adam’s newly renovated bedroom.
“That’s right,” Savannah agreed. “I still have some of that crunchy cereal he likes and we can make Mickey Mouse pancakes.”
Michael’s face lit up. “No, remember, he wanted horse pancakes last time.”
“Oh yeah,” she said with a laugh. Then she frowned as she recalled, “It wasn’t easy making pancakes into a horse shape.”
Michael laughed. “And after you made them, he didn’t want to eat the horse.” In a more serious tone, he added, “What a neat kid.”
“He sure is,” Savannah agreed. “You just gotta love him.” She then thought of something else. “Bananas and carrots. Must have carrots.”
Michael made a face. “Carrots? I don’t remember him liking carrots.”
“He doesn’t, but he likes to feed them to Peaches.”
“That’s right.” He looked down to see which of their household pets was asking for attention. “Hi there, Rags,” he said, reaching down and giving the cat a body rub.
Rags saw Savannah sitting on Adam’s bed, one foot tucked under her, and he jumped up to join her. “So, what toys do we have here for him?” she asked while scratching the cat behind one ear. She grabbed the fur on both sides of his face, looked into his eyes and said, “Besides, you, Mr. Rags?”
Michael walked over and looked at the books and puzzles stacked neatly on the wall shelf. He pulled out a drawer on a low chest and appeared to be taking inventory of the coloring books, crayons, and marking pens inside. He noticed a plastic box sitting in the middle of a child-size table off to the side, full of colored paper, pencils, plastic shapes, safety scissors, and other craft items. “Where’s his train set?” he asked.
“You mean your train set.” Savannah chuckled. “I’m convinced you enjoy that more than Adam does. He only plays with it to humor you.”
Michael looked stunned. “No way.”
“Yes, way. He’d rather play with that farm set Auntie and Max gave him with all of those horses, cows, stock trucks, and stuff.”
“Where’s that?”
“Right up in the closet with the train set and race-car set.” She smiled. “I have a surprise for him this time. I borrowed a child-size saddle from Bonnie. I tried it and it fits Peaches—just barely.”
“He’ll love that,” Michael said. He then turned abruptly and grabbed at Rags as he ran past him and out the door toward the staircase. “Uh-oh, what’s he got?”
Savannah was busy wiping the carpet with a tissue and didn’t see her cat make his rapid exit. “What did it look like?” she asked.
“Um, not sure.” He looked down at the spot on the carpet. “What happened there?”
“One of the cats urfed up a fur ball.” She stood, deposited the tissue in a waste basket, and said, “I’ll go see what Rags has.”
Michael walked out of the room behind her and they headed down the stairs. Rags had dropped his treasure at the bottom of the staircase. When he saw the couple moving toward him, however, he grabbed it and took off down the hallway, waking a sleeping Lexie along the way. The dog jumped to her feet and took off after Rags.
“I think he went into our room,” Michael said. Sure enough, the couple found him sitting in their bathtub staring up at them. Lexie pranced excitedly around the room, looking at the cat and then up at the couple.
“What is that?” Michael asked, looking down at the item lying in front of Rags.
Savannah took a closer look. “Oh no. It’s what’s left of the beanbag Adam made for your birthday. Darn it, Rags,” she scolded as she reached in and picked up the empty pouch Adam had decorated with his indelible marking pens. “Pretend you didn’t see it. I’ll fix it up so Adam won’t know Rags tore it open.” She looked over at the cat, who had his front paws on the edge of the tub, his eye on the contraband. “No, you can’t have this, Rags,” she said sternly. She looked down at the piece of cloth and asked no one in particular, “I wonder what he did with the beans?”
“He made me something for my birthday?” Michael said. “That is so cool.” He wiped at his eyes with his palms. “My first gift from my son.”
“It’s not yours yet. You have to wait until your birthday.”
“When is my birthday?” he asked.
She turned to face him. “You don’t know when your birthday is? What, were you raised by wolves?” She laughed.
“Well, I know it’s June twentieth, but when is that—what is today’s date?
She thought for a moment before saying, “Gosh, it’s already the fourteenth.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Close enough. Let’s have birthday cake…and a party.”
She looked at him for a moment before saying, “Yeah, we could do that.”
“I mean just you, me, and Adam—nothing big. A small celebration.”
“Sure—then I’d better go fix the gift he worked so hard on so he can wrap it for you when he gets here.”
***
Saturday morning came on the heels of a busy Friday. “Good morning, Adam. How’d you sleep, buddy?” Michael asked, ruffling the boy’s stick-straight dark-brown hair as he walked past him.
“Good. I like my new room, Dad. It’s rad.”
“I’m glad you like it. What’s that you’re drinking?”
“Orange juice and lemonade.”
Michael looked over at Savannah. “Orange juice and lemonade?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “That’s what he wanted.”
Michael chuckled. “And what are you having for breakfast?”
Adam smiled up at Michael. “Scramble’ eggs and horse toast.”
“Oh good. My favorite.” Michael poured a cup of coffee and sat down across from his son. He glanced up at Savannah, who was standing at the counter beating two eggs in a bowl. “Scramble’ eggs and horse toast for me, too.”
“Savannah has a horse cutter,” Adam said.
Michael looked askance. “A horse cutter?”
“A cookie cutter shaped like a horse,” Savannah explained. She then said, “It’s such a gorgeous morning, I thought maybe Rags would like to go out for a while. What do you guys think?”
“Yeah,” Adam said, excitement in his voice. “Can I put his harness on him?”
“Sure.”
“And hold his strap?”
“The leash? Sure can.”
“Rad,” the boy said before picking up his horse-shaped toast and spreading it with apple butter. “Hey,
horses like apples, so I’m putting apple butter on my horse toast.”
Michael laughed. “Good idea. Me, too.”
After helping Savannah put the dishes in the dishwasher, Adam went in search of Rags. Michael and Savannah heard him calling throughout the house, “Rags, time to go outside. Here Rags.” As he walked, he shook the cat harness, making the fasteners jingle. Soon he returned to the kitchen, a downtrodden look on his face. “I can’t find him. Where is he?”
A knowing smile passed between Michael and Savannah. “Well, buddy,” Michael said, squatting down so he was at eye level with his son. “Rags doesn’t really like his harness all that much. He’ll wear it, but he would rather go outside without it. So I think he knows you have the harness there and he’s probably hiding from you.”
Adam looked down at the harness.” Oh,” he said, “then I’ll leave it here and go look for him again.”
“Good idea.”
Adam walked out of the room calling, “Rags, I don’t have the harness anymore. Come here, Rags. Wanna go outside? See, I don’t have your harness.” Within a few seconds, they heard Adam exclaim, “There you are, Rags! Come on, boy.”
“I found him,” he announced as he walked into the kitchen struggling to hold the cat in his arms. Savannah couldn’t help but notice that Rags’s feet were almost dragging on the floor. “Whew,” Adam said, upon releasing the cat, “he’s heavy!”
“Yes, he is.” Savannah laughed.
“Now, can I put the harness on him?” Adam asked with enthusiasm.
“Let me hold him for you,” Michael offered. He picked up the cat and placed him on his lap. “Okay, now, buddy. Let’s get him dressed.”
“Get him dressed…” Adam repeated with a chuckle. “That’s funny, Dad.”
Once outside, the threesome watched as Rags explored through the tall grass and random bushes, jumped in the air after grasshoppers and batted at butterflies. Suddenly, Rags stopped. He seemed to be looking at something in front of him. He crouched into a typical cat’s stalking pose and stared ahead. With Adam right behind him holding onto the long tether, he took a few steps forward, carefully, slowly.
“What does he see?” Savannah asked.
