Cats of a Feather

by Patricia Fry

  “Too much for you, are they, Savannah?” Craig asked, chuckling. “She probably went on her own adventure.”

  “Oh no,” Savannah yelped, looking under the porch furniture and around the yard.

  “Where are you going?” Gladys asked when Savannah headed back to the kitchen.

  “To get Rags. He’ll be able to find her.” She returned with Rags on his leash. “Find Glori,” she instructed. “Come on, Rags, where’s Glori?”

  Craig chuckled. “Yeah, cat, redeem yourself, will you?”

  “I could use some help here,” Savannah complained from the gazebo. “This new landscaping design isn’t conducive to finding hiding cats.”

  “No it isn’t,” Gladys said, chuckling. She gestured. “Come on, Jilly, want to help in the search?”

  “Does this go on all the time?” Jilly asked quietly.

  Gladys grinned at her. “What can I say? It’s a zoo around here.”

  “Found her!” Savannah shouted several minutes later.

  “Where?” Gladys called.

  Savannah appeared with Rags still on his leash and Glori in one arm. “She was visiting Peaches.”

  “Peaches?” Jilly questioned. “On a peach tree?”

  “Savannah’s horse,” Gladys explained. “That’s the horse’s name.”

  “Oh,” Jilly said. “I guess it is a zoo around here.”

  Once the cats were safely inside and the children were playing in their playhouse within viewing distance of the porch, Savannah handed both Jilly and Craig a glass of the iced tea and she sat down. She took a long swig of her tea, then faced Craig. “So, do you have anything to report?”

  “Sure do,” he said, leaning toward the women with his arms resting on his knees.

  “Mrs. Shelton, what do you know about…”

  She interrupted Craig. “Jilly. You can call me Jilly.”

  “Okay, Jilly, what I want to know is who might your dad be protecting?”

  Jilly sat back in her chair and looked down at her hands in her lap.

  “We can’t help him if he won’t help himself, and he seems reluctant to tell us what he knows. From what I understand, he maintains that he didn’t do it and he doesn’t know who did.”

  Jilly threw her hands up. “Well, there you have it. Isn’t it up to the police to do their job and find out who framed my dad? If he doesn’t know who…”

  “Ma’am,” Craig interrupted, “who are you folks protecting, and why? Do you want to see your dad go to prison?” When Jilly began to cry, he said, “I didn’t think so. Well, you can’t have it both ways.” He sat back in his chair and folded his hands across his stomach. “Evidently this isn’t the first time your father has been arrested.” When she looked surprised, he asked, “Didn’t you know that? Or are you surprised that I know it?” He didn’t wait for her to respond. “Jilly, he has squeaked by convictions in the past by some miracle and maybe the fancy footwork of a good lawyer. It appears that these were fairly minor infractions, and he just paid the fines and went on about his business. But Jilly, this is a most serious accusation. And if he isn’t responsible, I’d advise you and your dad to come clean with what you know, because I’m pretty certain that he’s just about used up all of his get-out-of-jail-free cards, if you know what I mean.”

  “Please, Jilly,” Gladys said. “Is Craig right? Is your dad protecting someone?”

  Jilly rested her face in her hands and wept while the others waited for her to respond.

  “Mrs. Shelton?” Craig coaxed.

  “He’s my father,” she wailed. “I can’t betray him.”

  Craig stood abruptly. “Well, I can’t help you, then.”

  “Wait,” Gladys said. She put one hand on Jilly’s back. “Honey, please.”

  Jilly faced Gladys, tears streaming down her face, “I’m sorry, Gladys. You’re a nice lady and we all like you, but this is a family affair, and I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. It’s Dad’s decision.” She stood up and said vehemently, “As much as I hate it, I can’t…”

  “Even if it means a long prison term for your innocent father?” Craig said. He lowered his voice and added, “Or worse.”

  Jilly looked at Craig. “Worse? What do you mean, worse?”

  Craig spoke more gently. “If the victim is dead…”

  “What victim?” Jilly screeched. “There’s a victim this time?”

  Craig frowned at Jilly. “Isn’t there always a victim?”

  “No!” Jilly insisted. “It’s usually just infractions against the state or city or…”

  “Yeah, reckless driving, evading arrest, identity theft, burglary,” Craig recited. “Do you think there were no victims?” He lowered his voice. “Or potential victims.” He stared into her eyes. “You say your father wasn’t responsible for any of those crimes? Maybe you’re the one who’s being played for a sucker. Why would he keep taking the hit if he was innocent? Ever think of that, Mrs. Shelton?”

  “Dad told me the car hit a post and maybe a deer,” Jilly said more quietly. “He doesn’t know where the police got the notion this was a hit and run. There was no victim at the scene.”

  “Well, the evidence shows and a witness corroborates the fact that whoever was driving that car hit someone,” Craig explained.

  “But there’s no body, so maybe that’s not true,” Jilly insisted.

  “Oh, you’d better believe there’s a victim, and we will find him or her,” Craig said.

  When Savannah saw the color drain from her mother’s face, she sat down next to her and patted her arm. “Mom, here, drink your tea.”

  Suddenly Craig sat rigid. “What was that?” He looked up at the kitchen window. “It’s your cat, Savannah. What’s he doing?”

  “Um…I don’t know. What?” When she saw Rags thumping against the window with his paws and frantically pacing in circles on his windowsill perch, she walked swiftly to the door and opened it just in time to hear Lily scream, “Mommy! Mommy!”

  Savannah quickly shifted gears and direction. She leaped off the porch, avoiding the steps altogether, and ran toward the playhouse. Where are the children? She wondered. They were just here. “Lily!” she screeched. “Lily, where are you?” Just then Rags darted past her. At the same time she heard Lily’s voice calling again. “Lily, what’s wrong?” she asked, catching up to the child. When she saw that Lily was unhurt, she looked around. “Where’s your brother?”

  Lily pointed. “With Rags. Rags is going to help Teddy.”

  “Teddy?” Savannah called. “Teddy! Lily, where is he?” she asked frantically.

  “He fell, Mommy. He fell in Gypsy’s fence.”

  “Oh no,” Savannah said, continuing toward the corrals with Lily. When she saw the two-year-old lying face down in the corral at Gypsy’s hooves, she panicked. “Back, Gypsy!” she shouted, running toward her. “No!” she bellowed when she saw Gypsy start to rear up. Before Savannah could react, Rags jumped over the boy and toward the mare. The cat stood on his hind legs and he growled at the agitated horse. Savannah quickly picked up her son and climbed back between the rails with him in her arms. When she saw Rags duck aside just as Gypsy’s front hooves pounded the ground next to him, she handed Teddy to her mother, who had joined her, and she dove back into the corral.

  “What happened?” Gladys asked when Savannah returned with Rags.

  Lily said, her eyes wide, “Teddy fell off the porch. Gypsy got mad.”

  “I think she got scared,” Savannah said, taking Teddy from her mother as he whimpered. She looked him over. “Teddy must have startled her when he fell.”

  “Is he okay?” Craig asked, having caught up with the others. Jilly was right behind him.

  “Yes,” Savannah said, checking him over. “I think he just had the wind knocked out of him. I don’t see any place where the horse stepped on him or anything.” She asked the toddler, “Do you have an owey, honey?”

  Teddy nodded and pointed at his foot, then his elbow, then his finger.

>   She chuckled and brushed the dirt off his face and shirt. She held him close. “Poor baby boy. At least you didn’t fall in a poop pile.”

  “Horsie, my shovel,” he whined, pointing.

  “He dropped his shovel in there,” Lily said. She turned toward the corral, “I’ll get it.”

  “No,” Savannah said. “I’ll get it in a minute. You stay out of there. Gypsy’s not in a good mood right now.”

  “How’s your cat?” Craig asked. “I saw him challenging the horse. Doesn’t he like her?”

  “Not if he thinks the kids are in danger,” Savannah said. She looked around. “Where is he?”

  “There,” Jilly said. “Look. He has the baby’s shovel.”

  “Oh my gosh, Ragsie. Thank you,” she said, picking up the plastic shovel he’d dropped next to her. She gave it to Teddy, handed him to Gladys, and lifted Rags into her arms. “I’d better get him back inside before he creates anymore chaos.”

  “He didn’t actually create it,” Jilly said. “He saved the little guy.” She ran her hand over Rags’s back and said, as if in deep thought, “Despite enormous challenges and imminent danger, the cat saved the baby.” She stared into Rags’s eyes and said to Craig, “You know what? If he can do it, I can do it.” She stood taller, took Gladys’s hand, and said, “Detective, I’d like to make a statement on my father’s behalf. It’s high time he started thinking about himself and the rest of us. We need to grow a backbone and stop the grip he has on this family. I’m damn tired of being held hostage and watching Dad suffer for his every miserable mistake.” She scoffed. “It’s also high time he grew up and stopped hurting other people. That’s certainly not the way Mom and Dad raised us.”

  “Good girl,” Craig soothed.

  Gladys patted Jilly’s arm.

  “Okay,” Craig said. “I’m listening.”

  Jilly glanced toward the porch. “Shall we sit down?”

  Savannah looked at her watch. “Hey, I’d better fix the kids some lunch and put them down for a nap.” She scrutinized Teddy. “This one needs a bath and a change of clothes…again.”

  Jilly smiled and ran one hand down Teddy’s arm. “That’s a boy for you. My girl seemed to stay fairly clean, but I was always redressing Gabe.”

  Savannah smiled knowingly. She said, “Okay, let me get Rags settled, then I’ll take Teddy.” She shook her head. “Rags, you are an absolute treasure.” She put her cheek against his face and grinned. “At least sometimes. Thank you, sweet boy, for letting us know Teddy was in trouble. Good boy.”

  Craig scoffed. “Yeah, good boy, until the next time he’s naughty.” He ruffled Rags’s fur as Savannah held him. “Pretty impressive there, old boy. Good job.” He glanced at Jilly. “Good job on two levels.” He shook his head, muttering, “The irony of that cat.”

  Chapter Four

  “Love the sign,” Christine Tomlinson said when Savannah greeted her at the small airport that afternoon. “I don’t think I would have picked you out of a crowd. You’re taller than I expected, and more athletic-looking.”

  “Athletic?” Savannah repeated. “I don’t think I’ve ever been described that way. But thank you…I guess.” She smiled. “I recognized you from your website photo. The only difference is your hair’s shorter, and you’re wearing glasses.”

  Chris grinned. “Yeah, but I still look like a scientist, right? That’s what everyone tells me, ‘You look like a scientist.’”

  Savannah gazed at Chris’s dark curly hair, pleasant features, and solid frame. “I guess I don’t know what a scientist looks like. But yeah, I thought you’d get a kick out of the sign. Or you’d be terribly embarrassed to have your name displayed for everyone to see.”

  Chris laughed. “Well, I’m glad you’re thorough and pay attention to detail. I wouldn’t want to miss taking this wild cat-genealogical adventure with you.” She looked around. “Did you bring him?”

  “Who? Oh, Rags?” Savannah shook her head. “No. He’s had a big day already. He didn’t need any more excitement.”

  “What happened?” Chris asked, grabbing her suitcase when it slid toward her.

  “Want me to carry something?” Savannah offered.

  Chris handed her a leather carry-on. “Thank you. That’s my laptop and some notes I want to share with you. So what did your cat do today?” she asked, as they walked toward the parking lot.

  “He was a first responder when our two-year-old son fell into the horse’s corral this morning, and he seemed to be trying to keep the horse away from Teddy.” She giggled. “He literally stood up to the horse, who was rather spooked at the moment. If it weren’t for Rags, Gypsy might have actually stepped on Teddy, either on purpose or accidently.”

  “Your cat challenged a horse?” Chris exclaimed.

  Savannah nodded. She became more serious. “It was quite alarming to see the mare’s reaction to Teddy. The children are certainly not allowed in the corrals unless they’re with me or Michael, but neither of the horses has ever shown aggression toward the kids.” She glanced at Chris as they walked. “I hope Gypsy was just startled and not on the attack.”

  “Maybe she has poor eyesight,” Chris said quietly.

  Savannah faced her. “What? You mean it’s possible that she didn’t know what it was that suddenly landed at her hooves? She couldn’t see Teddy clearly? I never thought about that.”

  Chris shrugged. “Could be, I guess. She might have lost some peripheral vision, and when something came into her view unexpectedly like that, it startled her.”

  Savannah considered Chris’s suggestion. “Are you into horse DNA, too?”

  She shook her head. “I know scientists who are. People buy a non-papered horse and want to know something about its origin, especially if the horse came from one of the wild-horse herds. I’ve had horses most of my life, and I’ve actually had a search done on a couple of them. Turns out one was related to the Spanish barb, but then many familiar horse breeds are derived from that line. He just seemed to have more of the original Spanish barb confirmation.”

  “My,” Savannah said, “you’re one well-rounded woman, aren’t you? At least where animals are concerned, and science.” She faced Chris. “It didn’t occur to me that Gypsy might have a problem with her sight. Thanks for suggesting it.”

  “Yeah,” Chris said, “let’s take a look at her and see if we can determine a problem. Hey, you’re a veterinarian, you should be able to tell.”

  “Possibly,” Savannah said. After thinking about it for a moment, she added, “I sure hope she isn’t losing her sight, but it would be nice to know that she’s not a grumpy mare who dislikes small animals and children.”

  “Is your son okay?” Chris asked.

  Savannah nodded. “Yes, thank you. I think he jumped or fell into the corral from the platform around the tack room and got the wind knocked out of him. Lily, our four-year-old, said he wanted to dig with his little shovel in the soft dirt. I should have Michael build a little sandbox or dirt box that he can dig in out near their playhouse—you know, away from the corrals.”

  “It takes a lot of patience and awareness to keep kids out of trouble,” Chris said. She chuckled. “And apparently to keep some cats out of trouble.”

  “Do you have children or cats?” Savannah asked as they slipped into her car. “Oh yes, you told me you have a daughter and a granddaughter, right? And you just lost an elderly cat.”

  “Yes. I’ve almost always had cats, but I travel more now, so I might not look for another one right away. We have one in the lab, so that’s nice. I get my cat-fix there.”

  “Married?” Savannah asked.

  “Uh-uh. I was for a while,” Chris said. “I had another close call once, but…”

  Savannah chuckled. “That’s one way to put it.” After a lull in the conversation she asked, “Will you and Janice get together while you’re here? You said you two went to grammar school together.”

  “Yes,” Chris said. “She was Janice Tuttle then. I guess s
he went back to that name, right? After she and Anson divorced?”

  “Yes, that was her name when I met her, but now she’s using Fischer again, so I suspect she never had her name legally changed.”

  “I worked for her ex-husband, Anson Fischer, for a while before his accident,” Chris said.

  “Oh, so you used to live in Hammond?”

  Chris shook her head. “In Hayley. He had an office there, too. When I decided to go back to school and focus on DNA, then super-focus on cat DNA, he and Janice supported me all the way. They even made me some loans, which I’m thankful I’ve been able to repay. There’s nothing worse than relying on a friend for help and losing that friend in the process. There was no way in heck I’d let that happen, no matter my sacrifices.” She smiled. “That’s how you keep friends. Actually, it’s best if you don’t mix money and friendship, but if you do, it’s in everyone’s best interest that you do so with a lot of respect, responsibility, and appreciation.” Chris looked at Savannah. “At least that’s my philosophy.”

  “I like the way you think,” Savannah said. “People like you make good friends.”

  “Thank you,” Chris said, smiling. “That was a nice thing to say.”

  ****

  “Here we are,” Savannah announced as she drove into her driveway forty-five minutes later.

  “Wow!” Chris remarked. “That’s quite a house. How’d you come by this beautiful relic?” She chuckled. “I guess you can tell I’m also a fan of great architecture. I actually live in an old Victorian-style house outside the city. I share it with a couple of other scientists; it belongs to the father of one of them. Yup, a big old house with all the creaky floors, leaky windows, and outdated heating.” Chris grinned. “I love the place.” She stared at the Iveys’ house again. “Has it been in your family for a long time?”

  “Well, sort of,” Savannah said. “My aunt married into the family whose ancestors built it, and she inherited it when her husband died. I stayed with her here in the house for a while and fell in love with the place. When she married our next-door neighbor and moved into his house, she put this up for sale and ended up making it possible for Michael and me to buy it. We’re really happy here.”