by Patricia Fry
“Okay, let me see what I can do from here. Stay calm. You’ll be okay.”
“Thanks, Craig.”
“What did he say?” Michael asked.
“He’s going to call the sergeant and talk to him. Hopefully, we’ll be on our way home soon.”
“So much for our nice date night,” Michael grumbled.
She took his hand. “I love you.”
He winked and squeezed her hand. “I just hope we don’t have separate cells tonight. That certainly wasn’t in my plan.”
She smiled. “Mine neither.”
****
It was after midnight by the time the Iveys were reunited with Rags and on their way home.
“Thank you, Craig,” Savannah said into her phone.
He chuckled. “I don’t know what I did that made the difference, but you’re welcome.”
“You were a great support,” she said. “You evidently pushed the forensics-lab people hard to consider the evidence needed to free us from this awful accusation. It was not a pretty sight to see that grouchy sergeant have to admit that his cousin may have been a bad boy, after all.”
“Well, I thought you two were goners when they told me Michael’s prints were on the pickax,” Craig said.
“Yeah,” she blurted, “we’d both forgotten about that. Michael grabbed that thing from the kid to keep him from going after Rags with it. Whew, that was a close call.”
“Do you have Rags with you?” Craig asked.
“Yes.” She raked her hand through his fur. “He’s sound asleep on my lap.”
“Good. I was afraid those low-life scumbags would put a hit out on him. From the sounds of it they were really fighting the fact that Rags discovered the evidence.”
“Yeah,” Savannah said, wincing. “We could hear that Clark kid out in the hallway.” She asked him, “So what happened? Did Clark highjack that car and kill the driver?”
“Something like that,” Craig said. “I think drugs were in the mix. The guy in the trunk could have been a dealer. Some of them get to the place where they can afford a nice car, especially if they stop using the stuff and just push it. Gotta keep a clear head when you’re in business.”
“Yikes,” Savannah said. “To think that we could have become caught up in a messy underground crime. Horrible. Horrible.”
“It certainly could have been,” Craig said. “I’d say you were caught up in it. Yeah, those knuckleheads will use anyone they can to stay out of trouble, and your cat led you right into the path of their criminal activity.”
“Darned cat,” Savannah spat, continuing to pet Rags.
“But he also got you out of trouble,” Craig reminded her.
“That was a fluke,” Savannah said.
“Sure was.” Craig chuckled. “A fluke is your cat’s specialty. Yeah, if he hadn’t uncovered the murder weapon, you two might be in a world of hurt tonight.”
“What was that, anyway?” Savannah asked, “a knife?”
“Yes. The killer evidently decided to bury it immediately after he got home with the body this afternoon. One of the officers on the scene happened to see where something had been digging in soft dirt—something apparently not human. As any crackerjack officer would do, he looked more closely and saw the red handle of a hunting knife—the murder weapon. Upon further investigation, they determined that a cat had uncovered it.” He chuckled. “…and marked it. Some of the prints were smudged and some of the blood disturbed by cat urine, but there was enough evidence to point a finger at Clark Birdsall.”
Savannah smiled down at Rags. “So I guess it’s a good thing we had him along with us.”
“In some ways, yes,” Craig said. “But would you have stopped in front of that place if Rags hadn’t been with you?”
“You have a point,” Savannah said. She sighed. “Well, it was a bit rough there for a while, but I’m glad that guy’s been arrested and we’re on our way home. Thanks again, Craig.”
“Yeah,” Craig said, “and don’t forget to thank my partner, Deputy Rags.”
****
“So when is your new friend coming?” Michael asked the following morning over breakfast.
“This afternoon. I’ll pick her up at the airport around two. I can’t wait to learn more about cat genetics.” She cringed. “I just hope I can understand what she tells me.”
Michael suggested, “You ought to invite your sister over.”
“Brianna? Why? What does she know about cat genetics?”
“She’s a doctor,” Michael insisted.
“Well, so am I and so are you, but I doubt she knows any more about genetics than we do, especially cat genetics.”
“Is it really going to be a big part of your next book?” Gladys asked. “I mean, you aren’t actually focusing on cat DNA, are you?”
Savannah thought for a moment. “No. I guess what I need to know about that science is for my own information. It will be only a small snippet—a minute fraction of the book. My main focus will be comparing Rags to his siblings. Are they birds of a feather?” She laughed. “Or should I say cats of a feather? If not, where did he get his crazy personality? And my big question to Chris is related to Rags’s sire. I want to know what kind of cat we should be looking for. They can determine the potential color of the sire when they know the dam’s coloring and that of the kittens.”
“Who’s the father?” Michael said in a low, booming voice.
“Again, Daddy,” Teddy chirped. “Do again.”
Gladys grinned at her grandson, then asked, “So are you apprehensive about bringing a stranger into the house?” When Savannah hesitated, she said, “I mean, it’s sometimes hard to know what kind of person someone is until you live with them. You’ve only spoken with this woman by phone, right?”
“Yes, but she’s a friend of Janice Fischer, so it’s not like she’s a total stranger. Anyway, we’ll be busy discussing genetics. It’s just such a fascinating topic.”
“Oh, Vannie,” Gladys said, “you may not actually get enough interesting material for a book in all this. I mean, cats are simply cats. Rags is an unusual cat, but that’s not to say the rest of his family is.”
“If they are, don’t you think that would make for good reading?” Savannah countered.
Michael put his hand on Gladys’s arm and said quietly, “She’s on a mission. Don’t even try to dissuade her. She’s focused. You know how she is when she’s focused.”
Gladys chuckled. “Actually, I do. I tend to forget it now that she’s grown. I remember that when she wanted a kitten or a horse or a new sweater, how all-consuming she’d become.”
“Me?” Savannah asked. “What do you mean?”
“You’d work all the angles.”
“What angles?” Michael asked, amused.
Gladys addressed Michael. “Yes, I’d forgotten that about Vannie. When she got something in her craw she did not give up on it.”
Savannah sat straight. “Are you saying that’s a bad thing?”
“No, honey,” Gladys assured her, “except when you took things to an extreme. Sometimes that was kind of a problem.”
“Like what?” Savannah challenged.
“Like the time you found that sickly kitten and hid it away in your bedroom after I told you that you couldn’t keep it. It was sick! He needed medical treatment.” Before Savannah could respond, she added, “And what about when you ran for prom queen and didn’t win? Alison Bronson beat you. You wanted to change schools because you thought you could win at the other school. And…”
“You’re on a roll, Gladys,” Michael urged.
Gladys grinned at him. “It took her grandparents and her Aunt Maggie a while to learn how to say no when it was important to do so. They were always quick to buy into her arguments.” With a twinkle in her eye, she said, “Michael, we all thought for sure she’d become an attorney—an attorney for animals, maybe.”
Savannah stared at her mother for a moment. “Gosh, am I that much of a manipula
tor? I don’t feel like I always get my way. Anyway…” she started.
Michael stopped her. “No need to defend yourself in front of us, hon. We get it. You’re—well, you’re passionate about things.” He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “When are you going to LA? You’re going there to do some interviews, aren’t you?”
Savannah mulled over what Gladys and Michael had said, then took a new breath. “Yes. I’m not sure when, but I’m anxious to find Rags’s siblings. I’m getting quite a list of people to interview.”
“Even a jailbird, huh?” Michael said. “Will you be able to get in to see her?”
“I think so. I hope so. If she has a good memory, she’ll be one of my primary resources.” Savannah gazed at Michael, then Gladys. “I sure hope she knows something about Rags’s sire.”
“Will you take your cat with you?” he asked.
Just then Gladys’s phone chimed. She looked at it. “A text from Karl’s daughter, Jilly.” She stared down at it for a moment, then groaned, “Oh, no.”
“What, Mom?” Savannah asked.
“Karl has been charged.”
“What?” Savannah exclaimed.
Gladys shook her head. “I can’t believe it! Jilly and I both are in absolute shock.”
“Wow,” Savannah said, “I wonder what evidence they have.” She glanced at Michael. “We’re here to tell you that people sure can be accused and almost arrested, even when there’s no possible way they could have done the deed. Right, Michael?”
“Oh yes.” He asked compassionately, “Gladys, does Karl have a good lawyer?”
“I don’t know. He has one, but I doubt he’s a criminal lawyer.” She grimaced. “Jilly is beside herself with worry. She’s asking me what I think should be done.”
“He needs a good criminal lawyer,” Michael asserted. “I’d ask Craig for a recommendation. He might even know something about the case and can help the attorney sort through the evidence.” He asked more quietly, “Do you know who the victim is?”
“Some man from San Francisco or who happened to be in the city at that time. Evidently they haven’t found a body, but they claim to have found blood on a car Karl owns—a car that’s in his name. He swears he doesn’t drive that car—hasn’t driven it in months.”
“I’m confused,” Michael said. “I thought this was a hit-and-run.”
“It was,” Gladys confirmed.
“And they don’t have a body?” Michael said. “How do they know someone was killed?”
“I guess they don’t, actually,” Gladys said. “I mean, they don’t know if the victim is dead or alive. They don’t even know who was supposed to have been hit.”
“So how do they know there was a hit-and-run?” he asked.
“There were witnesses,” Gladys said.
“Did anyone see the body get up and walk away?” Michael asked.
“I’m not sure,” Gladys said. She slumped. “There’s just so much I don’t know.”
“Doesn’t Karl have an alibi?” Savannah asked. “You say this happened in San Francisco? He hasn’t been to the city lately, has he?”
Gladys grimaced. “Actually…”
“Oh no,” Savannah moaned.
“I didn’t even know it,” Gladys said, “but he was there last week overnight to visit someone.”
“Did he loan out his car while he was there?” Savannah asked.
“I don’t know.” Gladys took a ragged breath. “I just hate being so much in the dark. I mean, I care about the man and I want to help him even if it’s just to support him, but I must say that what I do know is troubling, and I feel like I’m so out of the loop that I’m not really a part of his life right now.”
When Gladys began to weep, Savannah embraced her. “It must be hard. I’m so sorry, Mom.” She comforted Gladys for a few more moments, then asked, “Would you like to talk to Craig?”
Michael chuckled.
“What’s funny?” Savannah asked.
“Well, it’s just that this family keeps Craig so busy, I don’t know how he has time to chase down any real criminals.”
Sloughing off her husband’s attempt at humor, Savannah suggested, “Let’s call Craig, okay, Mom? Maybe he’ll come over before I have to leave to pick up Chris.”
“I’d like that, Vannie. I just hate feeling so helpless when Karl obviously needs help.”
“But, Mom,” Savannah said gently, “if Karl doesn’t want to talk about it, how are you or his daughter or even an attorney going to help him?”
****
Later that morning Craig greeted Gladys and Savannah on the wraparound porch where they were entertaining the children. He smiled down at Rags and Glori, who were both sitting in Teddy’s wagon as Savannah helped the toddler give the cats a ride. Craig snapped a picture.
Savannah chuckled. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Put it on the bulletin board at the precinct where the deputies post pictures of their off-duty recreation—you know, fishing, parasailing, hiking, body-building. My feline partner’s favorite off-duty activity should be included—wagon-riding.” Craig laughed. “With Teddy at the helm, that’s gotta be an E-ticket ride.”
Savannah joined him in laughter, saying, “Yeah E-ticket, all right. Especially when he tries to take the wagon down the steps.”
“Good thing cats have excellent reflexes,” Craig said. He walked closer to where Gladys sat, and took her hand. “How are you doing?”
“Okay, I guess. I’m just so worried.”
“Well don’t be,” Craig said.
She stared into his eyes. “Why? Do you know something? Has something happened?” Craig glanced around. “Will his daughter join us? Savannah said something about his daughter.”
“Yes, she’s staying at his house right now. She wants to hear what you have to say.” Gladys looked out toward the orchard. “She should be along any minute.”
“Here she comes,” Savannah called from the other end of the porch where she continued to play with Teddy and the cats. She pointed. “Is that her?” “Yes,” Gladys said, standing up. She walked out to greet the younger woman and ushered her back to the porch. “Jilly Shelton, this is Craig Sledge. He’s the detective I told you about.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Shelton,” Craig said, removing his jacket and tossing it casually across the arm of a wooden porch chair. He shook her hand.
When Savannah approached with Teddy and his wagonload of cats, Gladys said, “This is my daughter, Savannah and my grandson, Teddy. She put her arm around Lily, who was playing nearby with one of her dolls. “And this is Lilliana. Everyone, this is Karl’s daughter, Jilly.”
“Jilly is like Lily,” the four-year-old said. “I’m Lily and you’re Jilly.”
“Yes, we match,” Jilly said, smiling at the child.
Savannah reached out a hand. “I’m so sorry about what your family must be going through. We’re quite fond of your father.”
“Thank you,” Jilly said. I’ve heard a lot about all of you. So nice to meet you. Your children are beautiful.”
Savannah smiled. “Would you like a glass of lemonade or iced tea?”
“Thank you,” the petite young woman responded. “Iced tea would be lovely.”
“Come sit here,” Gladys suggested, motioning toward a nearby chair. When she saw that something had Jilly’s attention, she followed her gaze and chuckled. “Oh, that’s Rags and…”
“The cat you’ve told me about?” Jilly asked, smiling.
Gladys nodded. “Yes, he’s the bigger one. The colorful one is Glori.”
“They’re gorgeous.” Jilly petted Glori and asked Teddy, “Are these your kitties?”
Teddy nodded shyly. He pointed and said, “Rags…Glori.”
“Hi, Rags and Glori,” Jilly said. “They seem to like going for a ride in your wagon.”
Teddy nodded.
Just then Lily ran to them. She picked up Glori and walked back to her chair with the cat danglin
g from her arms.
“No!” Teddy protested. “No!” he screeched.
“Lily,” Savannah scolded when she returned with two glasses of iced tea. “Come on, let her go for a ride with Teddy. She wants to ride in the wagon with Rags.”
“No she doesn’t,” Lily said. “She wants to sit on my lap now.”
Jilly smiled. “They love their kitties, do they?”
Savannah nodded. “Especially if someone else wants to engage them. A little sibling rivalry there.”
While everyone’s attention was on Lily and Glori, Rags jumped out of the wagon and sauntered toward Craig. No one noticed until they saw Craig’s jacket drop.
“Hey, I think your other cat’s under there,” Jilly said. “He pulled that jacket down on top of himself.”
“What’s going on, buddy?” Craig asked, picking up his jacket. He cocked his head when he saw Rags holding down a piece of paper with one paw.
“He’s shredding that, Craig,” Savannah warned, watching as Rags tore at the folded piece of paper with his teeth. “Better get it.” She made a move toward the cat at the same time Craig did, but Rags, it appeared, didn’t want to give up his latest treasure. He jumped off the porch and ran toward the corrals. “Rags!” Savannah called.
“What’s he got?” Craig asked.
“I don’t know. Something of yours, I imagine,” Savannah said, bounding after the cat. “Stop!” she shouted. “Rags, give that to me.”
Craig shook his head and muttered, “There must be a better way to deal with that cat. Can’t she take him to a training class?”
Gladys and Jilly stared past him as Savannah attempted to lure the cat. When Savannah finally returned with Rags, she handed Craig a folded page that had been slightly mauled. “Sorry about that,” she said, somewhat out of breath.
“Oh!” Craig said, upon opening the paper. “It’s just my…”
“Where’s the other cat?” Jilly asked.
Savannah opened the kitchen door and dropped Rags inside, then asked, “Lily, do you know where Glori went?” When Lily shook her head, Savannah frantically looked around the yard. “Dang it.”
