by Fry,Patricia
Chapter 6
“You’ve been on the phone ever since I got home,” Michael complained when he happened to catch Savannah between calls.
“I know. There were a lot of messages. I thought I’d be able to take care of them rather quickly.” She grimaced. “I hope you don’t mind sandwiches and soup for supper tonight.”
“No. What kind of soup?” he asked, suspiciously.
“Oh, I could make tomato or lentil. How about chicken vegetable?”
“Could you make your hearty broccoli soup with white beans and bacon?”
“Yeah, I guess I could,” she said. “Let me make one more callback and I’ll go get it started. What’s Lily doing?”
“We were having a tea party, but she just replaced me with her pink teddy bear.”
Savannah chuckled. “Replaced you? What happened? Weren’t you using good table manners?”
“I thought I was. Hey, how about if I move her tea party into the kitchen and I’ll start cooking the broccoli.”
“Oh, that would be great. Thank you. I should be there in a few minutes.” Once Michael had left the room, Savannah made her last call. “Hello, is this Carrie Drost? This is Savannah Ivey. You called earlier?”
“Yes. I wanted to report a cat sighting. Is this the right number?”
“Well, yes, for the cats pictured in last evening’s newspaper.”
“I saw them on TV—the grey-and-white one and the striped one. They were here. I do quilting in my home. I have a machine set up in my garage, actually. It was a pretty day, so I had the door open. I was working on a quilt, when suddenly I realized I had company. I looked down and there they were—the two cats sitting in the doorway watching me. I love cats, you see, and I stopped what I was doing to greet them. I’d never seen them around before and was puzzled about where they’d come from. After we visited for a few minutes, I figured they might be hungry, so of course, I fed them.”
“Of course,” Savannah said chuckling.
“Yes, they scarfed down the tuna and milk, then took a leisurely licking bath before moving on. I never saw them again until I turned on the TV last evening and heard their story. Oh, I hope they can help you find Mr. Kittleman—that dear, dear soul.”
Savannah was as interested at this point in hearing more about Leo Kittleman as she was in tracking the cats. “You know him?”
“Goodness yes. He’s the reason I’m alive today.”
“Oh?” Savannah said.
“Well, yes. I was just a freshman when a girl in my class started bullying me. I was shy. I didn’t know what to do or how to make her stop. All I knew was I was scared—so scared that I couldn’t sleep.” She lowered her voice a little. “And I was humiliated. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to be ridiculed in front of your peers?” The woman didn’t wait for a response. “I started skipping school. Boy, was I in trouble when my parents found that out. One day Mr. Kittleman saw me sneaking into the school grounds. I guess it was obvious that I was afraid of something. He stopped me after school and asked why I’d come into the school grounds from the east side when all the other students walked in through the front entrance. He knew something was wrong and he took the time to sit down with me and try to engage me in conversation. I wasn’t about to share my secret. I didn’t want to add to my terror by talking about it, and who would believe me, anyway? The other girl was popular. I had no friends, thanks to her. I’d just about decided that I had no way out of the situation, but to take my life. I couldn’t stand it any longer. Mind you, I knew how I’d kill myself; my dad had plenty of pills I could take to end it all.”
“Gosh, you must have been terrified.”
“Yes, but not of dying. Dying would be my way out. Well, that day, somehow Mr. Kittleman got me to talking. He helped me to see that I had options—lots of them. I could let Anita get to me and ruin my life, or I could grow a backbone, maybe get help from an authority figure, and make the bullying stop. He convinced me that I could and should trust myself and those who loved me. He said there were people who would help me if only I’d ask, including him. What an empowering moment. That’s it. Mr. Kittleman gave me my power back and, from that moment on, my life changed, little by little at first. But when I look back at what would have happened—what was about to happen—and then I embrace what did happen and all because of that man, I am so grateful. He is a miracle worker.”
“Wow, what a story. I appreciate you sharing it with me. Now what day did you see the cats in your quilting room?”
“Let’s see, I was working on the Brackston’s quilt and that was Wednesday morning—yes. That’s right. Around mid-morning, actually.”
“And where do you live?”
“On Cactus Road, right up against the wash. In fact, that’s where I saw the cats heading when they left here—toward that wash.”
“Oh my gosh, really? How far from Lilac Lane are you, Carrie?”
“Not far, really—only a few blocks, I’d say—maybe three or four.”
“That’s what I thought. I sure do thank you for calling. It’s been a pleasure and I’m pretty sure this information could helpful in finding Mr. Kittleman.” Before she hung up, she said, “Oh, Carrie can you tell me whether either of the cats had a stain on their fur when you saw them?”
“Um…no. Not that I recall. In fact, I remember noticing how white their little paws were. I love cats with white paws.”
“Thank you,” Savannah said. “Thank you very much.” Her adrenalin rushing, she raced into the kitchen. “Michael, the wash behind Colbi’s tract. No one looked there for Mr. Kittleman, did they?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I’m going to call Craig,” she said, punching his number into her cell phone. When he answered, she said, “Craig, the wash behind Colbi’s tract.”
“What?”
“I think we should look for Mr. Kittleman in that wash—the cats were in that vicinity Wednesday. They were actually seen headed in that direction around mid-morning. I think we ought to check it out.”
“I believe we covered that area, Savannah. Wait, let me check the map.”
“You have a map of where you’ve searched?” she asked.
“Uh-huh. Yes,” he said. “We had searchers down there and they came up with nothing. Anyway, what would Kittleman be doing that far away from his home? He lives at least two miles from there, doesn’t he?”
“I guess, but as the crow flies, maybe fewer.”
Craig chuckled. “So you think he flew down there, do you?”
“No. But he might have walked through property or he could have taken a ride. You say you looked there already?”
“Yes; not a sign. All they saw down there were a few homeless camps.”
She paused for a moment, then said, “What if we take Rags out there?”
“Why? Do you think he can do what a search team couldn’t?”
“He did come home that day with Mr. Kittleman’s blood on his paw. He knows where the man is.”
Craig coughed and cleared his throat. “You’ve got a point there.” He hesitated before saying, “How about if I pick you and Detective Rags up around eight in the morning. Can you get away?”
“Probably. Yes. I’ll say yes. If there’s a problem, I’ll let you know.”
“Okay. See you then.”
“Uh, Craig, have you received anymore videos?” she asked.
He chuckled. “As a matter of fact, yes. People are sure coming out of the woodwork. And you?”
“Oh my gosh, Craig, Michael talked to a guy last night who saw the cats being chased by a coyote. And another one caught Rags fighting with a rattlesnake in someone’s backyard.”
“Fighting with a rattlesnake?”
“Well, outsmarting the snake, I guess you’d say. Dolly wanted to make the reptile’s acquaintance, but Rags knew better and he managed to steer her clear of the thing.” She shuddered. “Oooh, creepy. Oh yes, and they
entertained customers at a nursery and even did a little hunting while they were there.”
“Hunting?”
“The gal said they killed a mouse or two. She lost her mousing cat recently and was grateful for the help. So what else were the cats doing while they were out and about, dare I ask?”
Craig chuckled. “Dare you? How much do you really want to know about your cat, Savannah?”
“Well, that’s a good question. Why? What could be worse than Rags tangling with a rattlesnake and a coyote, pray tell? Oh, don’t tell me those two met up with a bear or a mountain lion?”
He laughed. “I don’t think so. But they did have an encounter with some ornery kids with slingshots.”
“Oh no. How do you know that, Craig?”
“Well, evidently they visited a yard where there was a litter of puppies. The parents were at work and their ten and twelve-year-old boys were home alone.” He laughed. “The kids must have forgotten their dad had a camera going. They spotted the cats coming toward the puppies and thought they were going to harm them, so they gathered the puppies up and took them in the house. But the cats kept hanging around, so the boys decided to take it upon themselves to do some pest control. When the cats wouldn’t leave, they started shooting marbles at them with their slingshots. It looks like they hit your cat with one of them.” He laughed. “He jumped straight up in the air and took off running, up and over a six-foot fence, leaving Dolly in his dust. She didn’t know what to do or which way to go. Poor cat.”
She gasped. “What happened? How’d she get away?”
“Well, the camera was still rolling and it captured Rags coming back over the fence. He glanced around the yard and, evidently saw another way out. Brad Coffman said one gate was open and the boys told him that Rags bounded off the fence, raced toward Dolly, bumped her hard—evidently to get her attention—then he showed her the way through the open gate. She followed and the two cats disappeared.”
“Whew—I’m glad the boys weren’t better shots,” Savannah said. “Poor cats. They must have been terrified.”
“And the boys got in trouble when Mr. Coffman got home, too. He said from the looks of the recording, the boys overreacted. The cats weren’t out to hurt the puppies; they looked to him as though they were just tired and hungry. He confiscated the boys’ slingshots and sends his apologies to you and Colbi.”
“Oh, nice of him. Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, Craig. Thanks.”
“Hey, Iris wants to talk to you.” He chuckled. “Do you have time for one of those long-winded gossip-fests you gals enjoy?”
Savannah heard Iris use a scolding tone with her husband. “Oh Craig, stop it. Give me that phone. Hi, Savannah. How are you? I haven’t seen you in a while, except in passing.”
“Yeah, we’ve been busy tracking the cats and listening to stories about Mr. Kittleman.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Iris, how’s your new job going?” When Savannah didn’t hear a response, she said, “Iris?”
“Oh, it’s going okay. It’s a dream job, you know, except…”
“Except what?”
“Except, those people are kinda crazy and there’s something about that place…”
“Savannah, where’s the zester thing?” Michael asked from the kitchen.
Into the phone, she said, “Just a minute, Iris.” Then, “It’s in the back of the silverware drawer.” Apologizing, she said, “Sorry, Iris. My husband is working on supper. I don’t know why he’s using the zester, though, to make broccoli soup.” After a brief pause, she asked, “So what about the place? You said it’s pretty old and run-down.”
“Yes, but there’s more. Savannah, this house has a lot of stories to tell. The owners have shared a few, but I’m curious about those that are untold. I feel…well, all I can say is if this old house could talk, it would make a great suspense story.”
“Really? Why do you say that?”
Iris spoke more quietly. “Well, I found what I believe is a bullet hole in the wall behind an old buffet yesterday. That’s clue number one. But there’s more. You know how I can sometimes sense things? Savannah, this old place reeks of…”
“Hon, do we have any limes?” Michael called.
“Iris, I’m sorry. I think I’m needed in the kitchen. It’s good to hear your voice. I miss seeing you. Let me know when you have a break from your job and let’s have lunch, okay?”
“Yes, definitely. Goodbye, Savannah.” She laughed. “I hope your dinner turns out okay.”
****
“Hi, cat. Ready for another adventure?” Craig asked as Savannah lifted Rags into the detective’s car the following morning.
“Are you kidding? He’s always up for an adventure,” Savannah said, laughing.
“Who’s with Lily?” he asked as he drove out of the driveway.
“Michael. They’re going to visit the hardware store today, then ride the kiddy train through the mall.”
“Fun.” As they headed out onto the highway, Craig asked, “Where do you think we should start? That wash is kind of wide.”
Savannah pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. “Here’s the address of the quilting woman. She saw the cats head out behind her house, so I’d say we should start there.” She gazed at him. “Did anymore videos come in?”
“Yes, actually, we have another clue. A home surveillance camera showed the cats late Wednesday afternoon not too long before the scoundrels arrived back home. They stopped a block or so from Colbi’s and Damon’s and evidently took a long licking bath in the Freeman’s backyard. A few days later, when they checked the video, Mrs. Freeman recognized the cats from the story in the paper and contacted us.” He glanced at Savannah as he drove. “The blood was on Rags’s foot then. He was trying to lick it off. So it seems that he picked it up sometime between Wednesday morning and Wednesday afternoon. And if the quilter saw him head into the wash, it’s highly likely that’s where he met up with Kittleman.” He shook his head slowly. “I can’t even imagine him being out there for this long and…”
“I know—surviving.” Savannah grimaced. “Our discovery today could upset a lot of people.” She sat quietly for a moment, then said, “Craig, what do you know about the Alvarado boy who went missing some twenty years ago?”
“Huh? You mean Bennie? You remember that?”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t hear about it until recently. But I know the family.” She turned to him. “What happened, do you know?”
“Well, the boy had spent the night with another family—cousins, I think—and they believe he got up in the night and was disoriented or frightened and he went outside, maybe planning to walk to his home, which was only a few blocks away. But he never made it home and was never seen again.” He thought for a moment before saying, “The only real clue we found led us nowhere.”
“What was it?” she asked.
“A military medal.”
“What?”
“It was his dad’s. He carried it with him everywhere he went. We found it…” Craig paused, then looked over at Savannah. “Actually, it was found out there in the wash a couple of years after the kid went missing. There was a lot of rain that year and one of our dispatchers’ daughters came across it. She brought it in to show us and sure enough, it was the one belonging to Bennie Alvarado. The case was closed with an apparent drowning ruling slapped on it. The body was never found.”
Savannah spoke quietly. “Mrs. Alvarado believes he’s alive.”
“What?”
“His mother. I spoke with her yesterday. She says she feels his spirit and she says it isn’t coming from the other side.”
“Oh, Savannah, some people just don’t have a grip on reality. They carry hope to unrealistic levels.” He pulled into the tract east of Colbi’s and Damon’s. “That must be where the quilt lady lives,” he said, pointing. “Let’s see if we can find a way into the wash without going through someone
’s backyard.” He drove around the block and parked the car. “Looks like as good a place as any to start. What do you think?”
“Sure,” Savannah agreed, as she climbed out of the car with Rags on his leash.
“Let’s go, Detective Rags,” Craig said, waiting for the cat to lead the way. “Where’s he going?”
Savannah shrugged.
When the cat tried to head into a thick covering of brush, Craig stopped and looked around. “Well, he wants to go in that direction. Let’s see if we can find a trail. I’m not crawling through brush.”
Savannah picked up Rags and walked along the rim of the wash. “Here,” she said. She shook her head. “It’s obviously not well-travelled, but it may get us where he wants to go.”
They walked along the narrow path for several minutes. When Savannah picked up the cat and carried him, Craig reminded her, “We’re supposed to be following him.”
“It’s too brushy,” she said. “I don’t want him to get a foxtail in his ear or his eye.” When Craig frowned, she insisted, “He’ll let us know if he wants to go in any particular direction.”
When they approached a fork in the trail, Craig suggested, “Here, put him down and see what he does.”
Savannah lowered the large cat to the ground and she and Craig watched as he turned in a circle, then sat down and sniffed the air.
“What is that?” Craig asked.
“What?” she asked, looking around. “I don’t hear anything.”
“I smell something,” he said. “Smells like food—maybe ham.”
“Oh, could be someone cooking breakfast in one of those homes back there,” she suggested.
“Well, your cat smells it, too. Hey, he wants to go in that direction—east. Let’s follow him. Good, the trail’s getting wider. My slacks are full of stickers.”
The pair had followed the cat for twenty minutes when Craig said, “We’re not making much headway. He’s not the best trailblazer, is he?”
“He’s a cat, not a dog, you know,” she reminded him. “Cats meander.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I noticed that in the videos—they never did walk in a straight line or seem to know where they were going. They just—as you said—meandered. Wait, I think he hears something.”
