Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 03 - Sleight of Paw

by Patricia Fry

  “Yes,” Michael said, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “What are you going to do about her? I mean in light of what we suspect about her so far?”

  Michael took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “I guess we’re going to let her ride it out and see what happens. I mean, if her mission is complete, she will just leave. If she doesn’t leave, maybe she wasn’t actually involved.”

  “Oh, by the way, guys, did Alyce sign anything or fill out a job application with you? I’d like to get a sample of her writing.”

  “Sure, we can provide that for you. Just come by the office. I’ll leave a copy in an envelope at Scarlet’s desk.”

  Craig looked intently at Michael. “This case seems to have a lot of angles. It’s taking us in unexpected directions.”

  Suddenly Savannah jumped. “Oh my gosh, I almost forgot.” She grabbed her purse and opened it. “It’s been so darned crazy,” she said shaking her head a little. She pulled something out of her purse. “Keys,” she said, holding them up and dangling them in front of Craig.

  “Keys?” he asked.

  “Yes, I found them in the dirt in the parking lot at the clinic the day…well, when the body was discovered.”

  “Oh really?” Craig’s eyes lit up.

  “Yes, and it looks like the key to our clinic right here.”

  “Well, I’ll be. A key to your clinic, huh?” While examining it, he asked, “Do you know which of your employees is most likely to carry a key ring with a skull and crossbones on it?”

  “Alyce?” the three of them said in unison.

  ***

  That morning just before noon, Craig Sledge walked up to the front door of the veterinary clinic with the set of keys in his hand. He stuck one of the keys into the lock and tried to turn it. It wouldn’t budge. He tried a second key. It wouldn’t go in. He looked at the three other keys on the ring—one was obviously a car key and one looked like it might go to a post office box. The last one, he thought, probably went to the lock in a storage space—a padlock. He opened the door and walked into the lobby. “Good morning, Scarlett.”

  “Hello. Detective, right?” the pert brunette responded.

  “Yes; Detective Sledge. He held up the set of keys that Savannah had found and asked, “Are these yours?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Do you have a set of keys with you?”

  “Yes,” she responded.

  “May I see them?”

  Scarlett looked at him for a moment and then walked down the hallway and disappeared. She returned with a wad of keys in her hand. She held them out for Craig to see.

  He took them from her and looked at each key, comparing them to some of those on the other key ring. “So this goes to your car, right?”

  She nodded.

  “Which one goes to this office?”

  Scarlett took the keys, rifled through them, and then picked up one and held it, letting the others drop to the bottom of the key ring.

  Craig compared that key to those on the other ring. “Well, it looks just like this one,” he said scrutinizing it carefully. “Only this one didn’t work on the front door.”

  “That’s because it goes to the back door,” she said.

  Just then, a woman walked into the waiting room carrying an empty cat carrier. “Oh, hello Mrs. Whitaker, we have your kitty ready. Let me get her for you.” Scarlett started to turn toward the hallway and stopped. She looked over at Craig, picked up her keys, and walked off.

  Craig watched her leave and then exited through the front door and walked around to the back. He tried one of the keys on the ring in the back door lock and found that it worked. So this is an employee’s key to the office, he thought. But who? He walked back to the front of the clinic and through the front door. He found Scarlett putting on her sweater. She had her purse and keys sitting in front of her on her desk. “Are you leaving?” he asked.

  “Yes, it’s lunchtime. We usually close to walk-ins between noon and one,” she explained.

  “Scarlett, before you leave, can you tell me who these keys might belong to?”

  She looked at the ring of keys again, shook her head, and said, “No, I can’t.”

  “You haven’t seen them before?”

  “No,” she said with a shrug.

  “Tell me, did anyone come in this week without their keys—that you know of?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so…” Scarlett started. And then she said, “Hey, wait a minute. I heard them talking in the back about some lost keys. But that was a couple of days ago and I was real busy at the time. Lisa, I think it was, came up and asked me if I’d seen any car keys. I told her, ‘no.’ I think they might have been Alyce’s—the new girl. I saw her through the window out in the parking lot later having a smoke and she was sort of scuffing up the dirt with her shoes like she was searching for something.”

  Craig looked at her and then asked, “Is Alyce the kind of girl who would carry a ring of keys with a skull and crossbones on it?”

  “Heck, I don’t know. She’s new,” she said rather impatiently. And then she said, “She does have some tattoos—and not the dainty girly kind, either, if you know what I mean. I saw her take off her sweater and put on her lab smock one day. Lots of ugly tattoos.” She stared off into space and then said, “Yeah, I guess I could imagine her carrying a key ring with a skull and bones.” She looked down at the keys. “Those sure could be hers.”

  “Is she here this morning?”

  “No. She has gone to lunch,” she said picking up her purse. She walked toward the front door and opened it. “I really have to go now. I have an appointment.” She held the door open for Craig. “…if you don’t mind.”

  “Oh sure. Sorry if I held you up.” He walked out the door ahead of her and then turned. “Thank you for your time, Scarlett.” He climbed into his unmarked car, pulled out his notepad, flipped through a couple of pages and then read, “Alyce Drummond, 8334 Foxtail Place, number 102.” He left the pad open, set it down on the seat next to him and drove off, making a mental note to pay Alyce a visit that evening.

  ***

  It took him only minutes to reach the apartment building from the station, where he had chosen to work late. And it didn’t take long for Alyce to respond to his knock. In fact, she seemed quite eager to open the door and welcome someone. As it turned out, that someone wasn’t Craig Sledge.

  “Oh,” she said, as her smile quickly disappeared. “You’re not who I thought…”

  “Obviously,” Craig said with a smirk.

  “What do you want?” she asked, setting her jaw in defiance.

  “I think I found something that belongs to you.”

  “What?” she asked, more than a hint of defensiveness in her tone.

  He held up the ring of keys.

  Her face lit up for an instant and then she turned sullen—looked suspicious. “What is that?” she asked.

  “Well, I’m pretty sure they’re your keys, ma’am,” he said. “Don’t you recognize them?”

  “Noooo,” she drew the word out. “I don’t think so.”

  It was then that Craig noticed a skull and crossbones tattooed on her left ring finger. He looked at the door lock. “Then none of these keys will fit your door here, right?”

  Alyce wrapped her arms across her chest, pressed her lips together, and glanced quickly from side to side. Then, lifting her chin and standing up straighter, she shook her head and said weakly, “No.”

  “Well, let’s see.” He isolated one of the keys and stuck it into the door lock. “Maybe you’re right. It doesn’t seem to fit.”

  She relaxed a little.

  “But what about this one?” he asked. He pushed it into the lock. “Bingo,” he said as he twisted the key back and forth and watched the bolt move in and out. “Well, isn’t that strange?” he said looking over at her. “What are the chances of someone else’s key ring having your house key on it?” He stared at her for a moment and then said
, “Ms. Drummond, I’d like to come in and ask you a few questions.”

  “And if I refuse to let you in?” she asked.

  “I’ll just take you down to the station and talk to you in a jail cell,” he bluffed.

  She let out a sigh. “Okay, but just for a few minutes. I have to meet someone.” She opened the door for him to enter and then stepped out through the doorway and looked up and down the street. When she re-entered the room, she was tapping on the screen of her phone as if texting a quick message to someone. She motioned with her head toward a chair and Sledge sat down. She perched on the edge of the sofa across from him. “Okay, so what do you want to know?” she asked.

  “Where did you lose the keys, Ms. Drummond?”

  “Um, I’m not sure.”

  “Well, did you use them to go to work yesterday?”

  She thought about it before saying, “No.”

  “Thursday?”

  “Um Maybe.”

  “What about Wednesday? Did you have them that day?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Did you drive anywhere today or yesterday?”

  “Yes. I have an extra car key.”

  “What about your house key?”

  “Under the mat.”

  “And these other keys? What do they go to?”

  She took the ring from Craig and identified the keys, “My storage unit, the laundry room…” She set the keys down.

  “What about that silver key right there?”

  “Which one? I told you, the laundry room.”

  The detective sat back in his chair and looked at the young woman. Does she think I’m dense? “I know that key fits the back door of the veterinary clinic, Alyce. Now tell me how you lost these keys or…” he hesitated, “who you gave them to.”

  “Where did you find them?” she asked.

  “No you don’t. You go first.” He leaned forward. “Where did you lose them?”

  Alyce suddenly perked up. Raising her eyebrows so they disappeared into her long fringe of bangs, she said, “The car thief has probably been using those keys to drive my car at night.”

  Sledge frowned and looked confused. “What?”

  “Remember I told you someone might be stealing my car and driving it around when I’m sleeping or working? They’ve probably been using that key right there.”

  “When is the last time you had them in your possession?”

  She thought for a few moments. “I don’t know. I guess over the weekend.”

  Craig’s eyes wandered over the series of tattoos on her upper arms and chest. Yes, she is into tats.

  She was still talking, “Someone must have taken them out of my purse or I dropped them somewhere. As I recall, I drove to work Saturday. I was the first one there, so I unlocked the door with my key. But when I went to leave, the vet tech…uh…Bud, was still there, so he locked up. And when I went out to get in my car, I couldn’t find my car keys.”

  “Did you go back in and look around inside?”

  “No, Bud had left by then and I didn’t have a key to get inside.”

  Craig squinted his eyes and scratched his head. “How did you get home, Ms. Drummond?”

  “Um, I told you I have a spare key.”

  “That you carry in your purse?”

  “Yeah.”

  Craig looked at her for a long time and then said, “Why is it I only believe part of what you’re saying?”

  “It’s the truth, dude,” she said. “I lost those keys and I don’t know where—must have been at the clinic, though…unless….”

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless someone took them out of my purse. Yes, that’s probably it. Someone lifted them out of my purse while I was at work.”

  “Who might that be?”

  “One of the other employees? We all keep our personal stuff in a closet in the back. Or maybe someone who used our restroom—one of those creepy delivery guys, maybe. They come in that back area where we put our purses and coats. It could have been anyone, man. I’m just lucky they didn’t use my house key to get at me, know what I mean?”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean,” Craig said, humoring her.

  “Can I have my keys back?” she asked. “Or are they evidence?”

  “Evidence?” Craig perked up. “Why would you think of these keys as evidence, may I ask?”

  “Uh, just a figure of speech. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it,” she said, nervously running her fingers back and forth across her lips. She then clasped her hands together in her lap, smacked her lips, and said, “Well, I hope you find the guy who took them and arrest him.”

  “Yeah, we’ll do that.”

  “Can I have my keys?”

  “I’ll tell ya what,” he said, “I’ll let you have your laundry room key.” He slid it off of the ring. “…and your storage unit key. I want to keep the ring with these keys on it.”

  “What? Why?” She sat forward in her chair, a frown transforming her rather plain face. “You can’t do that. They belong to me!”

  “I can do that and I will,” he said.

  “But how will I get in to work?”

  “How have you been getting in to work?”

  “Um, I wait for someone to open the door. But I’m supposed to be there early sometimes. I need my own keys.”

  Craig studied Alyce’s face for a few seconds and said, “Well, you don’t have to worry about that until tomorrow, right?”

  “I work until noon.”

  “I’ll bring either this key or a duplicate to you sometime tomorrow. In the meantime, make arrangements to have someone let you in tomorrow morning.” He stood to leave and noticed that she was sitting there, staring down at the keys in her hand with a blank look on her face. “I’ll let myself out,” he said. “Thank you for your cooperation.” He then stopped and addressed her again. “If it comes to you who might have taken these keys of yours, please let me know. Otherwise, we may decide to charge you with contempt or interfering with a criminal case or being an accomplice to murder,” he said with emphasis.

  ***

  The next morning after picking up a cup of coffee, Craig visited a hardware store and had a key made. Then he drove over to the clinic. “Oh hello, Alyce,” he called out when he saw her walk through the hallway that opened out into the waiting room.

  She stopped and looked in his direction. He held up her key ring.

  “Uh, thanks,” she said after walking toward him and reaching out for the keys.

  Craig pulled his hand back, looked her in the eyes and said, “Don’t plan to leave town.” He watched her to see how she would react. She looks like a scared rabbit underneath that tough exterior, he thought.

  ***

  Sunday morning, the Iveys walked into the diner and saw Craig sitting alone in a booth. He stood to greet them. “We’re going to have to quit meeting like this,” he said, motioning for Michael and Savannah to join him. “Actually, I was about to leave, so you can have the booth to yourself.” He looked at his watch. “I have a meeting with Damon in a little while.”

  “I heard you were spending time with him. How’s he doing?” Michael asked.

  “Pretty good, actually. He and his mom are getting along, which is good to see. He’s even on good terms with his little brothers.” He thought for a minute and then said, “It’s amazing to me what a difference it can make when someone comes off drugs. Life actually takes on a new meaning.”

  “Damon isn’t exposed to drugs inside?” Savannah asked.

  “Well actually, yes,” Craig said. “He says he can get them if he wants them. He seems to be taking the program we’re working seriously and claims he does not want to go back to the life he was living. I hope he’s sincere.”

  “Well, good luck with him. I’m sure Iris is thrilled with his progress and his potential. Speaking of Iris,” Savannah said looking around, “where is she this morning?”

  “Good question,” Craig said. “I thought she was on the schedule.
I expected to see her here.” He motioned for Frank to come over. “Where’s Iris?” he asked.

  “Oh, you didn’t hear? She had to take her son to the hospital.”

  “What?” Craig said. He reached for his cell phone to check for missed calls.

  “I wonder what happened,” Savannah said, her brow creased with worry.

  Craig pushed a button on his phone. “I’ll see if she’ll answer.”

  “Iris. Where are you? Frank said…” He listened for a minute. “Oh God. I’ll be right there, Iris.”

  Craig dropped the phone into his jacket pocket and looked over at Savannah and Michael as if in shock. “They suspect that Brett has overdosed. Iris is at the hospital with him in Straley.”

  Chapter Eight

  “I got a call from Iris,” Savannah announced from the front door as she struggled to carry in several bags of groceries later that afternoon.

  Michael rushed to give her a hand. “What did she say?” he asked.

  “She thinks he’ll be okay,” she said as she rushed toward the kitchen and set the bags on the counter. She turned to face Michael. “It seems that Brett went to a party last night and ingested something. From the sounds of it, they don’t think he purposely took anything, but all of a sudden, he started convulsing. He passed out and the idiot kids at the party thought he was dead or dying. They didn’t want to get in trouble, so they took him out and dumped him near the park. Iris thought he was spending the night at this kid’s house; they were supposed to go fishing yesterday. Well, one of Brett’s friends must have sobered up enough to think somewhat sensibly and he got a ride over to where they’d dumped Brett. He got worried when he saw Brett and called 9-1-1. Iris got the call around four this morning. It appears that it wasn’t a minute too soon. Brett had a rough day, but he was coming around when I spoke with Iris this afternoon and she thinks he can come home tomorrow.”

  “How awful. Iris must have been scared to death,” Michael said.

  “Yes, she sure was. She said Craig was wonderful—a great support for her and for Brett. Craig even helped out with Chris—picked him up from some event he was attending and took him to the hospital to be with his mom and brother. Evidently, Brett gave Craig the name of the guy he thinks brought drugs to the party. Craig is going to check him out.”