A Whisker of Truth

by Patricia Fry

  After weaving her way through the sea of people in the aisles, Savannah stepped outside, lowered Rags to the ground, and walked him toward a dirt area against the building. The cat seemed eager to use the dirt and he spent several minutes seeking just the right spot and digging an appropriate size hole before taking care of business.

  “Come on, Rags,” Savannah hissed. “People are watching. Let’s get this over with, boy. Besides, I’m hungry.” She chuckled. “So now you’re going to bury it four feet under, are you? Silly cat. You can be so persnickety and finicky.” Suddenly Rags leaped from the dirt area to the blacktop and started to walk away. “You’re finished, huh? Well, come on, I want to get something to eat.”

  However, Rags seemed to have other ideas.

  “Now where are you going?” She looked ahead “What in the world do you see that’s so fascinating? Do you need to go potty again?”

  Unsure of what Rags had in mind, Savannah allowed him to lead and she followed him to another spot against the building. “What is it, Rags?” she asked. When the cat stopped and began sniffing the air, she grumped. “What’s wrong with you, anyway? Are you just trying to keep me from eating? Come on, let’s go get me a sandwich. I’ll give you a bite of turkey if you’ll just cooperate.” When she reached down to pick him up, something caught her eye.

  “Oh, so you found a treasure, did you?” She tugged on the leash. “Come on, you don’t need another toy.” Before leading him away, however, she noticed, It’s a buckle…maybe from a shoe…a teal-blue shoe. It looks familiar. Why does it look familiar? She laughed at herself, thinking, It looks like something Iris would wear—she has shoes that match every item of clothing in her closet.

  She picked it up and looked at it as she walked away with Rags. After a few moments, she tucked it into her tote bag and picked up the cat. She was deep in thought about the buckle when she felt someone bump her. “Ooops. I’m sorry,” she said, looking up. That’s when she noticed, “You’re Rochelle’s friend.”

  “Francesca,” the woman said. She looked around. “What are you doing here? Come to buy a book?”

  “I probably will,” Savannah said, “but I’m here to sell books.”

  Disbelieving, Francesca questioned, “With a cat?”

  “Yes, I write about him,” Savannah explained.

  “Why?” she prodded. “What’s there to write about a cat? Is it poetry or something?”

  Savannah considered for a moment whether to respond, finally saying, “No.” She turned toward the food truck. “Hey, I’d better go eat.”

  “Wait,” Francesca said. “I really am interested. Tell me about your book. I might want to buy it for a friend.”

  Reluctantly, Savannah handed her a promotional bookmark. “As you can see, it’s his life story. He has a knack for finding things that sometimes turn out to be clues to a mystery or a criminal case.”

  “Really?” Francesca said, staring down at the cat. She muttered, “He finds things?”

  “Yes,” Savannah insisted. She wanted to leave it at that and simply walk away, but her mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. “He just found a clue a minute ago. A clue to what, I don’t know, but it must be a clue, because Rags thought it was important and he brought it to my attention.”

  “What sort of clue?” Francesca asked suspiciously.

  “A little buckle; I think it’s from a woman’s shoe.” She suddenly remembered something. The last time I saw Francesca, she was wearing shoes in that shade. Oh my gosh, why am I running off at the mouth like that? I never do that. It must be from lack of food or water. I haven’t been drinking water like I usually do. Been too busy.

  When she saw Francesca waiting to hear more, she began to edge away from the woman. “You know what? I’m on my way to have lunch. I need to get back to my booth. Nice to run into you. Maybe I’ll see you later.” She turned and hurried toward the food truck.

  Savannah had just been handed her turkey sandwich when her phone chimed. She saw a vacant table and sat down with her lunch and a bottle of water, then answered her phone. “Hi, Rochelle. How are you?”

  “I was calling to ask you the same thing,” Rochelle said. “I’m good. I sold a few pieces of jewelry this morning, so it’s a good day. How about you?” When Savannah didn’t respond, she said, “Savannah?”

  “Oh, yes. I just got my lunch and found a place to sit. I’m trying to get Rags settled with his lunch; he’s being a bit of a brat.”

  “Rags?” Rochelle said, laughing. “No, not Rags.”

  Savannah spoke more quietly. “Hey, Rochelle. I saw your friend, Alison-Francesca, here just now. The weirdest thing happened.”

  “What?” Rochelle asked.

  “Rags found a buckle that looked like it was from a shoe and later I remembered seeing your friend wearing shoes the exact same color.”

  “That pretty blue?”

  “Yes. I call it teal blue.”

  “Who wears dyed-to-match shoes anymore?” Rochelle snarked.

  “Well, Iris, and I guess Alison-Francesca.”

  Both women laughed. Savannah continued. “Rags found this buckle in the dirt outside the building here, sort of hidden under a shrub.”

  “Oh? Well, it must not be hers then. I mean, what would she be doing crawling around out there in designer shoes?”

  “Good question,” Savannah said. “I can’t imagine. But we saw her here yesterday and she’s here today. What do you suppose her gig is?”

  “You think she has a gig?” Rochelle asked.

  “I don’t know. You know her; why do you think she’d keep coming around here?”

  “I don’t have a clue. Hey, someone just came in. I’d better go and you’d better eat your lunch.”

  “Sure. See you later.” Once Savannah had served Rags a packet of his food and a bowl of water, she started eating her sandwich. She’d taken a few bites when something caught her eye. Well, I’ll be darned. It looks like Alison-Francesca is looking for that buckle over there where Rags found it. It must be hers. But how did it end up over there? I wonder if I should tell her I have it. No, I really don’t want to get involved with her. She sends out vibes that I’m not comfortable with.

  She laughed at herself. Now I sound like Rochelle. No, I think I’ll just drop this buckle someplace out here and let her find it on her own.

  “Rags, we’d better get back to the booth,” she said fifteen minutes later while emptying his water bowl. She picked up his paper plate and tossed it into a trash can with her lunch wrappings.

  She ran her hand over his fur. “Come on, boy, let’s go meet more fans and sell more books.”

  On her way back into the building, Savannah removed the buckle from her tote and discreetly dropped it in a patch of dirt not too far from where Rags had found it.

  “Hi,” Tina greeted when Savannah returned. “Did you find any decent food?”

  “Yes, actually. I had a turkey sandwich and it was pretty good. It had avocado, sprouts—yummy. Do you want to go now? I’ll hold down the fort.”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  Savannah had just put her tote in the back of the booth, gotten Rags comfortable on his blanket, and rearranged her display of books when she heard someone say, “Okay, where did you put it?” She looked up in time to see Francesca glaring at her. “Do you have it?”

  “What?” Savannah asked.

  “The buckle you found,” she hissed. “Where is it, I want it.”

  Savannah tilted her head. “Was that yours? It came off of your shoe? What were you doing in the shrubs wearing shoes like that?” When Francesca continued to scowl, she said, “Well, I don’t know where it is. Maybe someone else picked it up. I left it over there where Rags found it.”

  “Well, I can’t find it. Are you sure you don’t have it?”

  Savannah stared at the irate woman for a moment. “Why are you so upset about a broken buckle, for heaven’s sake?”

  “Oh…um…” Francesca stuttered, “I love those sho
es. I want to get them fixed. That’s why. Now where is it?” she hissed.

  “Look out there in the dirt area next to what looks like an old water heater or air conditioner or something.”

  “That isn’t where I…” Francesca started. “I mean…that isn’t where you indicated it was.”

  Taken aback by her remark and unwilling to engage the woman, Savannah said, “I guess I forgot.”

  Francesca stared down at Savannah’s display. “You wrote this?” she asked, picking up a book and thumbing through it. She read the back cover, then scanned the table of contents before placing the book back on the table. She looked into Savannah’s eyes, stared at the cat for a moment, then turned and walked away in a huff.

  Wow, Savannah thought, what’s wrong with her?

  ◆◆◆

  “Well, I only have a few books left,” Savannah remarked later that afternoon.

  Tina smiled. “Me, too. I let Rob know we’re having a good day. He’s bringing more books for tomorrow.”

  “When will he be here?” Savannah asked.

  “Maybe tonight,” she said. “He’s coming from Sacramento, so it’s only an hour-and-a-half or so drive.” She faced Savannah. “Hasn’t it been fun meeting so many fans, and watching everyone relate to Rags?” She looked around. “Where is he, by the way?”

  “I put him in his pen. Just like the rest of us, he needs his quiet time.”

  “Like a time-out?”

  “Yes, kind of.” Savannah looked across the room. “Hey, I’d like use the restroom. Can you keep an eye on things for me?”

  “Sure.” Before Savannah could leave, a woman with two young girls walked up and started looking at the books. “Hi, do you children like cat stories?” Tina bubbled.

  Savannah smiled and walked toward the ladies’ room. When she returned, she found Tina frantically wringing her hands. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Oh, Savannah, I’m so sorry. I opened the cage door so those adorable children could pet Rags. He came out and rubbed against one of the little girls. They were having the best time. Someone came up with a question. I turned away for just for a second and…”

  Savannah was sure she felt her heart skip a beat. “Oh no.” She grimaced. “Tina, you know his history. You write his stories. I can’t imagine why you’d take your eyes off him.” She let out a frustrated sigh, and asked, “Which way did he go?”

  Now near tears, Tina said, “I don’t know. He just disappeared.” She pointed. “Someone over there said they saw a cat. They thought he was a stray.”

  “Stay here with our stuff,” Savannah insisted. “I’ll go see if I can find him.” Under her breath, she murmured, “What a way to end an almost perfect day.” She gazed across the myriad of booths and the hundred or so people still meandering through the aisles. “Gads, I hope I haven’t lost him in this madhouse.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Tina said. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just wait here,” Savannah barked. She stepped out of the booth and walked swiftly toward where Tina had indicated. She spoke to a few people in that area and learned that, yes, someone thought they caught a glimpse of a cat, but they didn’t notice what color it was and didn’t see where it went. When Savannah saw a security guard in the next aisle, she called out, “Excuse me! Excuse me!” She hastened her pace. “Excuse me!”

  He heard her and turned. “Can I help you with something, ma’am?”

  “Yes, my cat is loose in here someplace. Can you have someone make an announcement? We need to let people know that he isn’t a stray; he belongs to me. I just have to find him as soon as possible before…”

  “Before what, ma’am?”

  “Well, before he gets hurt or something. Please,” she pleaded.

  “Oh,” he said, obviously caught off guard. “So are you a neighbor? Did your cat walk over here from your house?”

  “No,” she insisted. “I brought him with me to the book fair.” Her voice becoming more shrill, she explained, “He was in a pen, but someone let him out and now I don’t know where he is.”

  “Okay, calm down, lady,” the officer said. “It’s only a cat, right? We’re still talking about a cat.”

  Fighting back tears, she nodded.

  He glanced around the hall. “Come with me and let’s see what we can do.”

  Savannah followed the guard across the room as he approached a man wearing a name badge. “This woman has lost a cat in here. Can you make an announcement to have everyone watch for a cat?”

  The man looked at him, then at Savannah. “Oh yes, I remember seeing you come in with a cat. I wondered why you were bringing a cat in here.”

  “I’ve written a book about him, and I often take him with me when I do signings.” She pointed. “I’m told he might have been in that area, near the green door, maybe five minutes ago.”

  “Okay,” he said, picking up a microphone. “Let me see if I can get this antiquated system to work.” He chuckled. “I had trouble announcing the arrival of the lunch truck. Dang thing kept cutting out.” He held the mic up to his mouth. Before speaking, however, he asked, “What does the cat look like?”

  “He’s mostly grey with white markings.”

  “Attention!” the man announced. “We have a loose cat in the hall. He’s grey and white. If you’ve seen him, please let us know. Speak up or raise your hand if you’ve seen him.” He waited and watched across the room, finally saying, “If you see him, please come up here to the front or go to booth…” He asked Savannah, “What’s your booth number?”

  “Thirty-two.”

  “Booth thirty-two,” he repeated,

  “You lost Rags?” a woman with two small children asked. “We just bought some of his books. I sure hope you can find him. I’ll have the children look around for him.”

  Savannah nodded. “Thank you.” She also thanked the organizer and the guard, then she walked back in the direction Tina had pointed out earlier. “Have you seen a cat over this way?” she asked as she moved from booth to booth.

  “Yes, I saw a cat,” a young man said. “I thought it was a stray and that it would probably bite me if I tried to pick it up.” He pointed. “I saw it go that way.” Before Savannah could move on, he asked, “That was your cat? He seemed to know where he was going. He didn’t look lost to me.”

  “Thanks,” Savannah said, now moving faster in the direction the gentleman had indicated. “Rags!” she called. “Rags!” She shook a bag of treats.

  “Do you think he’ll hear that with all the noise in here?” another man asked her.

  “Probably not,” she whimpered. “But it makes me feel like I’m doing something.”

  “How’d he get away?” he asked.

  “Someone let him out of his pen.” She continued to look under tables, on tabletops, and across the room while calling to him. “He’s an independent guy and cannot be trusted,” she told the man who followed along with her, also looking in obvious and not-so-obvious places for the cat.

  “Have you looked in the restrooms? He might have been thirsty or curious.”

  “You know cats, huh?” she asked, walking toward the ladies’ room.

  “I’ll check the men’s for you,” he offered.

  “Thank you.” She walked out of the women’s restroom at the same time he emerged from the men’s. “Not in there.”

  “Not in the men’s either.” He took off his fisherman’s hat and glanced around the room. What are those people doing over there? Do you think they might have found your cat?”

  When Savannah saw the group of people gathered near the east wall, she rushed to them. “Have you seen my cat?” she asked.

  “No, but I think he’s in there,” one woman said. “I hear something that sounds like a cat. Listen. Does that sound like your cat?”

  Savannah moved closer and listened, eventually admitting, “I don’t hear anything.” “Where does that lead, anyway?” someone else asked.

  “It’s some sort of duct,
” the guard said, joining the others. He picked up something off the floor. “Looks like the cat removed the screen, or it got knocked off by that stuff you people have leaning up against the wall. They probably keep it covered to prevent rats from going in or coming out.” He eyeballed the opening. “It’s actually large enough for a cat to go into, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Savannah said with a sigh. “I could see him taking that route. Darned cat.” She faced the man. “You don’t know where this leads? How will I ever get him out of there?”

  He shrugged. “Does he like ham? I have half a ham sandwich in my lunch bag.”