The Amazing CATventure (A Klepto Cat Mystery Book 19)

by Fry,Patricia

  “Okay, dress for the brush,” Savannah advised. “Cover your arms and legs. Wear sturdy shoes or boots.” She faced Iris, “The kind you can hike in, Ms. Fashionista.”

  “I know,” Iris said. “What time?”

  “What time will you have all your make up on?” Margaret teased.

  Iris smirked playfully at Margaret. “Any time you say.”

  “I’ll pick up Auntie at nine. Iris, we should be at your house by nine ten, and Colbi’s by nine twenty. We’ll walk from Colbi’s place.” She let out a sigh and reached for her phone. After glancing at it, she said to the others, “Craig.” She spoke more quietly into the phone. “Hi Craig. I’m at lunch with your wife. Is this important or can I call you back?”

  “Of course it’s important,” he snapped, “or I wouldn’t be calling you. I want to talk to some of the residents on Maple Street and I want you to go with me. Will you?”

  “Yeah, I guess. When?”

  “Whenever you say. I’m free this afternoon. Say around five twenty-five?”

  She chuckled. “That’s pretty precise for someone who’s free all afternoon.” When he didn’t respond, she said, “Yes, I can do it. Want to pick me up?”

  “Sure. See you then.”

  “So what are you two working on now, Detective Savannah?” Colbi asked.

  She frowned. “The murder of Rodney Turner. It seems that someone might have seen something that could free the suspect they’ve taken into custody.”

  “Oh,” Colbi said. “Is that all you can tell us…the condensed version? The CliffsNotes?”

  Savannah nodded.

  “So both of your neighborhoods have drama,” Iris said. “Savannah’s and yours, Colbi.”

  “I guess so,” Colbi said. “At least the drama in my neighborhood has been resolved and the cats and Mr. Kittleman are safe.”

  “Iris,” Savannah said quietly, “what about you?”

  “What about me?” she asked flippantly.

  “I was wondering how you like your new clients. It seems as though you’ve been kind of stressed since you started that job.”

  “It’s a big job—could take months—and I’m dealing with a lot of contractors.” She frowned. “Yeah, the clients are strange as all get out. They can’t agree on anything. And when they finally do agree, someone changes their mind. It’s probably the most stressful project I’ve taken on so far.” She smiled at the others. “But what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?”

  “Sure,” Margaret said, “if the process is worth it.”

  Iris tightened her lips, then said quietly, “I’m kinda hooked, you know. There’s a lot of history in that place and I’m really interested in what it’s revealing.” Her expression brightened. “I’m keeping a journal.”

  “A decorating journal?” Colbi asked. “That could actually be of real significance to the owners and maybe the bed-and-breakfast guests.”

  Iris nodded and said quietly, “Maybe even the historical society and authorities.”

  Before anyone could comment, their waiter appeared, ready to take their orders.

  ****

  It was five twenty when Craig knocked on Savannah’s back door.

  “Oh, hi. Ready to do some interrogating?” she quipped.

  “Hi Craig,” Michael greeted as he entered the kitchen behind her. “Borrowing my wife again, I see.”

  Craig cleared his throat. “Yeah, I guess I am. She’s an asset to have along for questioning such as this,” he explained.

  “Well, I hope you get the information you’re looking for,” Michael said over his shoulder as he followed Lily out of the room.

  “See you later, hon,” Savannah called, picking up her sweater and accompanying Craig out the door. “So Craig, what’s the latest?” she asked as they climbed into his official unmarked car.

  “I think you know that the murder weapon had our current suspect’s prints on it, which is why we hauled him in. And he doesn’t have an alibi for the time in question. But neither does he own or seem to have access to a white pickup truck or a motive for killing Mr. Turner. It could be that he’s telling the truth when he says he found the knife partially buried in some loose dirt and handled it before realizing it had blood on it. He says he tossed it back in the general area and didn’t learn until later that the knife was connected to a murder. That’s his story and he’s sticking to it.”

  “So he could be telling the truth?” she asked.

  “I think we’ll know more after we get a few answers from some of your neighbors.” He parked his car in front of a blue Cape Cod trimmed in white and ringed by generous beds of colorful flowers. Before stepping out, he turned to Savannah. “I went back and looked at the report taken the morning they found Turner’s body. There were fresh tire tracks in the field near where the body was found, and they’re from big tires such as those on a truck. So it looks as if your young friend’s story has merit.” He opened his car door. “Let’s start with the folks closest to where the Cranes live, shall we?” He motioned toward the house to the left of the Cranes’. “Do you know those people?”

  “No, but I met the woman who lives across the street and a man who, I believe, lives in the third house to the right on the same side of the street as the Cranes. Like I said, my aunt knows some others.”

  Craig stepped out of the car and glanced around the neighborhood. “Let’s start with those you know, then.” He pointed. “What’s the name of the people in that house?”

  “Carol Pepper.”

  The doorbell was answered promptly by a stout balding man. “Can I help you?”

  “Mr. Pepper?”

  The man nodded.

  “I’m Detective Craig Sledge,” he said, showing his badge. “This is Savannah Ivey. We have a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

  “Regarding?” the man asked.

  Craig thinned his lips. “Well, I’m sure you’ve heard about the recent homicide involving one of your neighbors.”

  “From the Crane family…yes.” He nodded toward the Crane house. “He was the kids’ uncle, I guess.” He focused on Craig. “So what is it you think I can help with, Detective?”

  “Just wondering if you or any members of your family saw anything unusual April twenty-ninth. That was a Friday night, sometime after dark—around eleven or midnight.” When Mr. Pepper shook his head, Craig asked, “Maybe one of you heard something.”

  “I don’t think so. But I can ask my wife.” He looked Craig and Savannah up and down, then said, “Won’t you come in? We were just preparing dinner. By the way, my name is James Pepper.” As they approached the kitchen, he gestured. “This is my wife, Carol.” He turned to her, saying, “This is Detective…”

  “Sledge,” Craig said, nodding toward the woman.

  Her husband continued, “He wants to know if we saw or heard anything the night of the murder.”

  “Oh.” She took a second look at Savannah. “Don’t I know you?”

  “Yes, we met when we brought back things my cat…”

  “Oh yes,” she said, laughing. “Your cat. Savannah, right? Good to see you again. Thanks for keeping your cat at home.”

  Savannah smiled rather cautiously and nodded.

  “Come sit here at the table. Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

  Both Savannah and Craig declined the water. “Thank you,” Craig said, continuing to stand. “We won’t take much of your time. So on the night of Friday, April twenty-nine, do you recall hearing or seeing anything alarming or unusual, Mrs. Pepper?”

  “Oh, I remember that night, all right.”

  “You do?” James asked.

  “Yes, you don’t remember me telling you I was up at around ten and heard someone yelling. I looked out and saw lights on at the Crane house. I guess someone over there was having an argument.”

  Craig appeared interested. “Oh? Around ten you say? Was it men or women arguing? Can you identify
the voices?”

  “Voices sound different when they’re raised, but I think it was men.”

  “Did you see anyone?”

  “No. The shouting stopped and I got my drink of water and went back to bed.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Pepper, I didn’t see a surveillance camera out in front of your house. Do you know of any neighbors who have one?”

  “Oh yes. Tom Engles, next door, has them in his front and back yard,” James said, motioning toward the east.

  “Next door, huh?” Craig said, looking at Savannah. He handed Mr. Pepper a business card. “Thank you very much. If you think of anything, anything at all that might help in our investigation…”

  Before they could leave the room, Carol Pepper said, “I thought you arrested someone. I’ve been sleeping at night believing the murderer was locked up. Why are you questioning us now?”

  Craig coughed and cleared his throat. “Um…it’s policy. Even when a suspect comes to us all wrapped in a pretty bow, we must still do the legwork to make sure we have the right person.”

  She nodded. “Oh, that makes sense. Good.”

  Once outside, Craig said to Savannah, “Let’s visit Mr. Engles, the neighbor with the surveillance camera, shall we?” However, after ringing the doorbell and knocking a couple of times, he decided, “Hmmm, not home, I guess.”

  “But there are two cars here,” Savannah noticed. “I’ll bet they’re out back.”

  “Yeah, probably with a couple of Rottweilers.”

  Just then, a child rode up the street on a bicycle and pulled into the yard. “Hi,” he said.

  “Oh, hello, do you live here?”

  The pre-teen nodded.

  “I’m trying to get your mom’s or dad’s attention,” Craig said. “Do you think they’re home?”

  “I’m pretty sure they are. I’ll go check.”

  “Thanks. Please tell them Detective Sledge would like to ask a couple of questions.”

  After a few minutes, the boy answered the door, invited Craig and Savannah in, and led them through the house into the backyard, where they found a slightly built man trimming a hedge. He’d just removed earbuds.

  “Hello,” Craig greeted. “I’m Detective Sledge and this is Savannah Ivey. I’d like to ask you a few questions about a recent murder, if you don’t mind.”

  “Tom Engles,” the man said, glancing from one to the other of his guests. “Oh, you mean the Rodney Turner murder? Yeah, I’ve been following that story.” He peered up at Craig. “I thought you arrested someone.”

  Grimacing, Craig said, “Yeah, we’re just making sure we have the right man.” He looked around at the eaves of the house. “I see you have cameras out here. I thought I saw some in front, too. Do you run them regularly?” Before Mr. Engles could respond, Craig said, “What I’m most interested in is the night of April twenty-ninth—that’s ten days ago. Were the cameras on that night?”

  Engles removed his ball cap and scratched the top of his head before sliding it back on. “Gosh, I’m not sure. We kind of quit using them once things stopped going missing around here.” He chuckled. “To think most of that was attributed to a cat.”

  Savannah cringed a little and did not respond.

  Craig glanced at her, grinning, then asked Mr. Engles, “When’s the last time you checked the video in that camera out in front of your house?”

  “Gosh, a while—maybe a couple of weeks.” He thought for a moment, then said, “You know, we could have video in there we actually forgot about. We’ve been so busy getting things ready for a family reunion—you know, sprucing up inside and out, planting new flower boxes.” He pointed. “We even built that barbecue area.” He thinned his lips. “Seems to be the only time we do serious upgrades is when we’re expecting company.”

  “That’s real nice,” Craig said. Then staying on focus, he continued, “Can you check your camera out in front and see if you happened to catch anything on film the night in question?”

  The homeowner shrugged. “Sure, I guess.” Once they were in the front yard, Tom Engles removed the video. “Yeah, we still have something on there.”

  Eager to see what might have been caught on the tape, Craig said, “Great. Would you mind if we take a look at it? I could take it with us and bring it back once we’ve finished with it.”

  Mr. Engles thought for a moment and looked at the DVD. “Oh, it’s just as easy for me to play it back for you. Come on,” he invited. “Let’s go inside and see what we got, if anything.”

  When nothing showed up on the DVD early on the evening of the twenty-ninth, Craig suggested fast-forwarding it to eleven o’clock. After a few moments, Engles said, “Oh, my God!”

  Craig pressed his lips together and let out a sigh. “Well, there it is, just as she described it.”

  “Is that Mr. Crane?” Engles asked. “I mean, Pastor Crane? Oh, my God. I can’t believe it.”

  “Run that again, will you?” Craig asked. He then demanded. “Stop it there. Now, you say that’s Mr. Crane?”

  Upon closer examination, Engles said, “Well, it’s hard to tell. But it looks like him. It sure could be him.”

  “Who’s truck is that?” Savannah asked.

  “That’s Troy Marston’s truck.” He looked at Craig. “Oh, he really had it in for that kid.”

  “Mr. Marston did?”

  Engles nodded.

  “He had it in for what kid?”

  “You know, Rodney. He still blames him for all the things that have gone missing around here.”

  “You’re not missing things anymore, are you?” Savannah asked.

  “As a matter of fact, no. That nonsense seems to have stopped. But as you can probably understand, we’re still somewhat shaken.” He nodded toward the Marston home. “Some more than others. We feel violated, having people come into our yard. That’s why I had the cameras installed.” He shook his head and stared down at the video recording. “Marston was convinced it was the Turner kid who was causing the trouble. Neither of us got a good look at him, but the images we did catch sure could have been Rodney Turner.” He paused, then said, “I wonder if the preacher thought so, too.” He shook his head. “I knew he was a hothead, but…”

  “May I take this DVD with me, Mr. Engles? I think it will help us in our investigation.”

  ****

  “Gosh, that’s not good news,” Savannah said, as she and Craig left the Engles property.

  “What, that a murderer lives in your neighborhood?”

  “Yeah, and that it could be…”

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions, okay?” Craig said. He pointed. “Let’s pay Mr. Marston there, next door to the Cranes, a visit, shall we?”

  “Yes, sir,” Savannah mumbled.

  “That’s odd,” Craig said after they’d stood on the Marstons’ front porch for a minute or so. “Did you see that?” he asked in a near whisper.

  “What?” Savannah asked.

  “I’m sure I saw the blinds move—like someone was looking out.”

  “Could have been a pet,” Savannah suggested. When he looked at her, she said, “Cats and dogs are curious creatures. Rags loves to look out the window when someone rings our bell.”

  “Could have been a cat, I guess…or dog,” he agreed. He rang the bell again and pounded on the door with his fist. “Anyone home?”

  Suddenly, they heard the sound of the deadbolt disengaging and the door opened a few inches. A man’s voice asked, “Yes? Can I help you?”

  “Mr. Marston?” Craig asked, showing his credentials. “I’m Detective Craig Sledge and this is Savannah Ivey. I want to ask you a few questions.” When there was no response, he said, “It’ll just take a minute.”

  “About what?” the man asked, still holding the door open only a few inches.

  “About the murder of your neighbor, Rodney Turner.”

  “Oh, well, can you come back? I’m sick in bed.” He coughed several times, then said,
“I’m sorry, I really must go lay down.”

  Before Craig could respond, the door closed and they heard the bolt slide into place.

  Perplexed, Savannah asked, “What do you do in a situation like this?”

  Craig winced and said, “Bring back a warrant.”

  “Don’t you need to have some sort of evidence before you can get a search warrant?” she asked.

  He pointed offhandedly. “There’s a white pickup parked in his driveway. Let’s see what else we can find out.” He approached the truck and began scraping something from inside the fender wells with his pen and depositing the debris in an envelope. “Looks like this vehicle’s been driven out in a field, recently.”

  “He’s probably one of those off-road nuts,” Savannah offered.

  “Then the rest of the truck would be dirty instead of just the wheels and wheel wells.”

  “So you think he’s a suspect?”

  Once they were in the car, Craig looked back at the Engles house and noticed the blinds move. “If I didn’t before, I might now. He’s about the size of Mr. Crane, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I don’t know. I couldn’t see him.”

  “Didn’t you see the size of his hands and feet? He was stooping some, but it appeared that he stood nearly a head taller than me. I’ve only seen the pastor next door twice, and he looked to be a hefty six-footer, wouldn’t you say?”

  Savannah nodded. “So what are you going to look for if you get a search warrant?”

  “I’ll head right for Marston’s closet and see if he has a black jacket with a picture and writing on it. If not, then I’ll look in Crane’s closet.”

  “So you think Mr. Crane may have borrowed Marston’s truck that night?”

  Craig nodded. “It’s possible.” He turned to Savannah. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to the little girl until we’ve tied up a few loose ends, okay?”

  “Okay, Craig. I just hope she doesn’t come over before you’ve finished making all those bows.”

  He grinned at her, then changed the subject. “Hey, I hear you gals plan to take Alice some supplies.”

  “Yes. Can you believe that Colbi knows her? From a story she did a few years ago. She was tickled to learn where she is—practically a neighbor.”