by Patricia Fry
“I don’t know,” the older man cranked. “He’s lookin’ fer a cat. Have ya seen a cat?”
“Not today,” Clark said. “Why does he want a cat?” “We lost him,” Michael said. “He jumped out of the car, and I think he might have come in this direction.”
Clark walked toward Michael in a confrontational manner. “Well, we don’t want people on our property. If the cat came this way, he’ll surely leave when we he hears me cock my gun. We don’t want no one snooping around here. So get, Mr. Fancy Pants.” He scrutinized Michael for a moment, then asked, “What are you all dressed up for, anyway? A wedding?”
“A cat going to a wedding?” the older man said. “Not likely, Clark.” He thought for a moment, then said, “Why not let him look?” He addressed Michael. “You’ll leave once ya git the cat, right?”
“I sure will,” Michael said peering at the men suspiciously.
“No,” Clark said. “No one snoops around here. Pop, dressed like that, he just might be a cop.”
“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” the older man said. He left the window, opened a door, and stepped out onto a sagging porch. He looked Michael up and down. “Are you a cop? I wonder if you know my cousin. He’s a cop, but he don’t bother us none ’cause we’re family.”
“No, I’m not a police officer. I’m a veterinarian,” Michael said. He nodded toward Savannah, who stood a short distance behind him. “My wife and I are on our way to dinner at the shore.”
“Well, la-di-da,” the older man said.
Michael continued to glance around the property. “Rags!” he called.
“There he is,” Savannah said, pointing.
“Where?” Michael asked, gazing in the direction she indicated.
“Under that car,” she said, taking a few steps forward. “Rags. Rags, come here.” When she heard what sounded like a gun being cocked, she froze. She looked at the older man, then at Clark, who had just lit a cigarette with a Zippo-type lighter. She cringed under his stare and moved closer to where she’d seen Rags. “What’s that smell?” she complained.
“Nothing,” Clark said.
“I was wonderin’ that too,” the old man said. “Smells like one of them coyotes died under the shed, don’t it?” He pointed. “Hey, what’s he doing there, Clark? Looks like that cat wants to get in the turtleback.”
“Turtleback?” Clark questioned.
“You know,” the older man said, “the back of the car—the trunk.”
“Get,” Clark said, running toward Rags. He picked up the axe and lifted it over his head.
“No you don’t!” Michael said, quickly grabbing the tool from the younger man. “What do you think you were going to do with this thing?” he growled, tossing it aside.
“I don’t want the cat snooping around here, that’s all.” Clark pointed. “There he is, now take him and get going.”
Michael glanced at Rags, who had climbed up onto the car by then and was pawing at the trunk lid. “Get your cat!” Michael called to Savannah, while keeping an eye on Clark and the old man. “Go put him in the car,” he instructed.
Savannah did as Michael asked. Once she had Rags secured in Teddy’s seat, she turned her attention back to Michael and saw that he was making his way toward her.
“Get in,” he said, walking quickly to the driver’s side and sliding in behind the steering wheel. He accelerated while Savannah was still trying to buckle her seatbelt.
“What’s going on over there?” she asked. “I was gagging.”
“Call 911,” Michael instructed.
“What? Why?”
He glanced at her. “Hon, I think your cat may have discovered a body.”
She studied Michael for a moment, then asked, “You’re kidding, right?”
Michael shook his head. “No. Didn’t you see the blood smudge on the bumper of that new car? And that kid sure didn’t want us snooping around. He was definitely getting ready to bury something without the old man’s knowledge. It appeared that he’d been digging a large hole near the dilapidated fence.” He glanced at her. “Go ahead and call—give them my cell number in case they have any questions.”
After Savannah made the call, she patted Michael. “Are you okay? It got kind of freaky there for a minute.”
“Yeah, I have to say I thought we could be in danger. If Rags hadn’t come out of hiding, I was about to suggest we leave him there. I felt it was that potentially volatile.” He faced her briefly, saying, “They shoot cats, so that could have become gnarly.”
“Oh, Rags,” she said, “is nothing simple and easy and fun with you? You’ve ruined our nice date. You make me so mad sometimes.”
“Naw,” Michael said. “Our date isn’t ruined—not by a long shot. He just added another dimension to it. He’s keeping us on our toes. He doesn’t want our marriage to get stale.”
Savannah looked at Michael and they both laughed guardedly.
A while later, Michael pointed. “Hey, there’s a feed store. Want to go in and see if you can get a harness and leash for him? Us guys will wait in the car.”
“Yeah, I’ll pick him up some dinner too.” She opened the car door and stopped. “Michael, have I told you lately how much I love and appreciate you?” When he grinned at her, she said, “Really, Michael, you make me so happy.”
He nodded toward the backseat. “Just because I tolerate your sidekick there?”
“Sure, that’s part of it.” She kissed him and said seductively, “I’ll tell you more of the reasons tonight after we get home.”
“Can’t wait,” he whispered. “Now go get that stuff, will you? And hurry back.”
Once she returned, they fastened Rags more securely in the seat with his new harness and leash, and continued their drive toward the beachfront restaurants. When Michael saw the row of eateries along the ocean, he asked, “So, where do you want to eat?”
She motioned to the left. “Let’s try that place; it looks funky enough they might allow Rags on the deck. And it overlooks the beach. The sun will set soon, so we can enjoy the sunset. Oh, this is perfect, only…”
“Only what?” he asked.
“Only, well, I just hope they find that was a dead pig or coyote in the trunk of that fancy car.”
“You don’t like pigs or coyotes?” Michael asked.
“Yes, but I could handle knowing it was a dead pig, I think.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, I have the feeling it’s something more…um…human.”
Savannah put her hands up to her face. “Don’t say that, Michael. Put that out of your mind.”
“I will if you will,” he promised.
Chapter Three
The couple had been dining on their fish-and-chips dinner for some time, and Rags had finished his cat food and seemed to be hoping for a tidbit of fish to drop at his feet, when Michael’s phone rang. He glanced at Savannah from across the table and took the call.
“Michael Ivey?”
“Yes.”
“This is Sergeant McKay from the police department. You reported a body out on Prairie Road?”
“Yes. So it was a…” Michael started. “We’d hoped you’d find a coyote or a pig or something.”
“It’s human, sir, and we wonder how you knew it was there. We’d like a statement from you. Where are you now? Do you live in the area?”
“No,” Michael said, heaving a sigh. “My wife and I drove over here from Hammond to have dinner. We’re at the Oceanside Fish House, I think it’s called.”
“Hammond, huh?” The sergeant hesitated, then asked, “So how did you get to the Fish House from Prairie Road?”
“What?” Michael said. “We drove.”
“Where did you get the car?” “What do you mean?” Michael asked. “It’s our car and we drove it from home over here. Why?”
“The Oceanside Fish House, huh?” the sergeant confirmed. “Do you know where the police station is from there?”
“No,” Michael said.
&nb
sp; “You can get directions. It’s not far. I’d like to meet you there and get your statement.”
“Uh…okay, I guess,” Michael said.
“I suppose you’ll be able to tell me how you discovered the body—you know, how did you know it was there?” the sergeant asked.
“Well, it was our cat, you see…” Michael started.
“Your cat?” the sergeant asked suspiciously.
“Yes, it’s an unusual story and a strange circumstance, but we’re getting used to those with this cat.” Michael winced. “Sure, we’ll come over to the station and tell you what we know. So you say the body is human?”
“Yes, and I hope you have a good explanation as to how it got there. The homeowner says that isn’t his car. We checked it out and it’s actually registered to someone in Mason, which if I recall is very nearby to Hammond, right?”
“Yes,” Michael said.
After a few moments, the sergeant asked, “Do you use an alias, Mr. Ivey?”
“No,” Michael said, frowning for Savannah’s benefit.
“I’d be interested in how you got to the restaurant from Prairie Road. The homeowner said you dumped the car with the body in their yard and took off in a waiting car. Who was driving that car?” he asked.
“What?” Michael shouted. He looked around sheepishly at the other diners, then said more quietly, “Listen, I’m Dr. Michael Ivey, a veterinarian living and working in Hammond, and I’m not missing a car. I’d never seen that car before I walked onto that property looking for our cat, who had escaped from us. Once we caught up to the cat, which we found wandering around on that property on Prairie Road, we drove from there to this restaurant in our car—the same car we drove from our home in Hammond.”
The sergeant was quiet, then said, “Well, we’ll discuss that when I see you. In fact, just in case you feel like running, I’ve decided to meet you there at the Oceanside Fish House. I’m pulling up to it right now. Can you tell me how to identify you? Where are you sitting?”
Michael took a deep breath. “We’re on the patio. I’m wearing a blue shirt. I’m with my wife. She’s blond…”
“Oh, I think I see you. Blue shirt, dark hair, pretty woman. Stay put, will you?”
“I have no reason to run,” Michael said, glancing around, trying to spot the policeman.
“So you say,” Sergeant McKay responded sarcastically.
Michael let out a sigh and ended the call. Shortly, he saw two uniformed officers approaching them. “Hello,” Michael said, standing. “I’m Michael Ivey and this is my wife, Savannah.”
“Sergeant McKay,” the first officer said. He nodded to his female partner. “Officer Haun.”
“This is your cat?” she asked, reaching down to pet Rags.
Michael nodded. “So there was a body in that car? I saw what looked like a blood smudge on the bumper. I think that’s what the cat…”
“The cat?” Sergeant McKay questioned.
“Yes, he’s sensitive to…how should I put this?”
Savannah explained, “He seemed to be showing us that something was wrong inside that car.”
The officers studied the cat, then Savannah and Michael. He asked, “And what were you doing there with the cat?”
“Yeah, does the cat usually join you for dinner?” Officer Haun asked, amused.
Michael blew out a breath in exasperation, explaining, “He stowed away in our car. We stopped near that property to see if we could secure him…in our son’s car seat.”
“You put your cat in a car seat?” the female officer asked.
“We thought we’d try it, but he escaped while we were rigging the thing to fit him. We found him over at the place where that fancy car was parked, and Rags…”
“Rags?”
“That’s the cat’s name,” Michael said. “He showed some interest in the car, which seemed to upset the owner.”
“Of the car?”
“I assumed he was the owner,” Michael said. “What I meant was the people at that house—the old man and his son.”
“The older man didn’t seem to recognize that fancy car, actually,” Savannah explained. The officers looked at her, and she continued, “But the son said his father has a bad memory and just forgot they owned it.”
“We got a whiff of what smelled like a decomposing body,” Michael said.
“And you know that scent because?” the officer asked.
Michael stared at him for a moment. “Well, as I told you, I’m a veterinarian, and who hasn’t smelled a decaying rat or something under their house at one time or another?”
“But you told us you thought it was a human body. How would you know that?” the sergeant asked.
“By the amount of blood, and who would carry around a decaying rat in the trunk of a sixty-thousand-dollar car?” Michael said. He huffed, “Or a body, for that matter.”
Sergeant McKay stared at Michael. “Who, indeed?” He asked, “May I see your ID, please?”
Michael and Savannah both complied. Officer Haun walked away with their driver’s licenses, then returned, saying, “They check out.” She smirked. “I guess your cousins really are in deep trouble, Sarge.”
Unflustered by her statement, the sergeant stared hard at Michael while speaking to his partner. “Clark Birdsall said these folks parked the car on their property, got out, and asked Clark if he had a pickax and a shovel.”
“What?” Savannah said.
“Yeah, Haun, we’d better get their prints and check out Clark’s story.”
The officer turned toward their unmarked cruiser. “I’ll get the kit.”
Meanwhile, the sergeant glanced at Rags and asked, “So you say the cat knew what was in the back of the car?”
Savannah shrugged. “Maybe. He works with the sheriff’s department in Hammond, and he has…”
“Baloney,” the sergeant said. “If he knew it, it was because he saw you put it in there, right?”
Savannah frowned and spat, “What’s wrong with you?”
Michael grasped her arm in a gesture to calm her.
By then Officer Haun had returned. She looked down at the cat. “Wait! You say he works with the sheriff’s department in Hammond?” She squinted. “Is this Rags?”
Savannah nodded. “Yes. You know of him?”
“Cliff,” the officer said, “Detective Sledge works with Rags. He’s done some incredible investigative work with that cat. There’s even a book out about him. Now I recognize him.” She looked at Savannah. “You’re the author. I remember seeing your picture on the back of the book.”
The sergeant continued to stare at the Iveys, then down at the cat. He scowled. “Well that doesn’t exonerate them from this accusation. I have to take Clark’s story into account. Folks, I think you should come down to the station with us. We’ll have animal control pick up the cat.”
“No!” Savannah shouted. “That’s ridiculous. Your cousin is lying through his teeth. What my husband told you is the absolute truth, and I’m sure we can prove it. I think you need to find out who that car belongs to and when it was taken and from where. You can take our fingerprints if you want to, but you won’t find them on that car.”
“Well, little lady, how about humoring me?” the sergeant said in a condescending manner. “Keep in mind that you’re guests in our town. You don’t want to insult our gracious invitation.”
“This is ludicrous,” Michael complained.
“You can follow us to the station,” the sergeant suggested.
“Oh, so you trust that we won’t flee?” Michael spat.
Savannah nudged him.
Once the Iveys were in their car along with Rags, Savannah pulled out her phone.
“Who are you calling?” Michael asked. He grinned. “Oh, let me guess…”
“Hi, Craig. Thanks for picking up,” she said.
“Why wouldn’t I, Savannah, even though you’re disturbing my dinner?”
“Sorry, Craig. We had our dinner disturbed
too, and I need some advice.”
“What has your cat gone and done now?” Craig grumped.
“Well…”
“So he did get you into some sort of pickle, did he?” the detective asked, laughing.
“Craig, I think we’re going to be arrested for killing someone and maybe stealing a car and stuffing his body into the trunk and digging his grave.”
“What?” Craig shouted. “Savannah, slow down. What are you talking about? Is this a plot for a movie you’re watching or something?”
“No. Craig, we drove out here to the coast for dinner, and Rags…”
“You took your cat with you?” “Now use your imagination, Craig. No. We didn’t purposely bring him. I think what happened was that Lily let him out accidently while I was cleaning the car out and…”
“I don’t need the nitty-gritty details,” Craig complained. “So he bamboozled you again. And he got you into trouble how? He stole a car?”
“No. A dirtbag named Clark probably stole the car. Rags evidently found a body in the trunk, but the thief…”
“The dirtbag?” he asked.
“Yes, he’s the cop’s cousin and…”
“What?”
“Yes, Sergeant McKay wants to believe his cousin, who says we parked the car on his property with a body inside,” Savannah said. “Now we’re following him to the station…” “The dirtbag?”
Feeling more exasperated, Savannah blurted, “No, the cop. They want to put Rags in a cage.”
“Well, that’s appropriate.”
“Craig, it’s not funny,” she insisted. “Michael and I are being accused of stealing a car and maybe murder. What shall we do?”
“Where are you, Savannah?” Craig asked with a sigh. Once Savannah had explained their location, Craig said, “I can be there in forty-five minutes, but they might be finished with you by then, so I think I’ll call the precinct. I’ll find out what Sergeant McKay has to say, then we’ll see what happens.”
“Okay. By the way, his sidekick, Officer Haun. knows about Rags and his work with you. She’s even read my book.”
“Well, that ought to be worth something,” Craig said.
“Yeah, but the curmudgeon sergeant didn’t seem impressed or even seem to care,” Savannah whined.
