The Secret in the Whiskers

by Patricia Fry

  “Take her hand, Shari,” Jeannie said, “and watch her, okay?”

  Shari nodded and walked off, holding Lily by the hand.

  ****

  A little later, the adults chatted in the living room around an oversized Picardy coffee table. Rags and Angel lay together in a cat bed, and the children played a short distance away. Savannah said, “So tell us what’s been happening with this painting. What’s it a painting of, anyway?”

  “Cats,” Pam said. “Mom loved cats.” She glanced at Jeannie. “We actually think we know who has it, but we’re reluctant to file a formal complaint.”

  “Why?” Michael asked.

  Savannah looked across the room at Jeannie. “It doesn’t have anything to do with your ex-husband, does it?”

  Jeannie shook her head. “No. This is an entirely different criminal profile.” She took a deep breath. “It seems that Mama may have taken on a business partner.”

  “Or, this person’s delusional,” Pam interjected. She explained, “As Mama aged and her finances dwindled, she began renting out rooms here in the house.”

  “Seems like a smart thing to do if you want to stay in your home,” Michael said.

  “Yeah,” Pam agreed, “but one of her renters turned out to be sort of a go-getter—maybe a swindler. Jeannie and I were aware that Mama was getting forgetful.”

  Jeannie added, “She may have had a touch of dementia.”

  Pam agreed and said, “Well, Lorraine had been renting a room from Mama for three months or so when she contacted me—you know, I was in LA at the time helping out with Jeannie’s children.”

  Savannah nodded and Pam continued, “Well, Lorraine told me that Mama was failing mentally and that she had been helping Mama quite a bit. She suggested to me that Mama needed more help, and she offered to hire on as her caregiver. All she wanted was free room and board. I talked to our mother about it, and she seemed quite relieved to have the extra help. She told me that she liked Lorraine. So Jeannie and I agreed. I mean, we were thrilled to have the help, and it sounded like Mama would be safe.”

  Pam glanced around and continued. “After Mama died, we let Lorraine stay in the house for a few months.” She winced. “Mama’s handyman tipped me off that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. He thought Lorraine might be smuggling things out of the house. The next time I came here, I was shocked to see that areas inside the house had been cleaned out.” She shook her head. “I don’t remember everything that was in here, but there were a few things I definitely missed. I confronted Lorraine and she told me she’d been organizing things and doing some cleaning. She swore there was nothing missing. When I mentioned specific items, she’d say, “Oh, I believe your mother had me take that to her storage unit.”

  “We wanted to believe her,” Jeannie asserted.

  “Did anyone take pictures of your mom’s things before she died?” Michael asked. “I know a woman who was concerned about bringing in caregivers for her elderly parents, and someone suggested to her that she photograph jewelry and artwork and such for proof, just in case anything went missing.”

  “Hindsight,” Jeannie lamented.

  Pam nodded. “Yeah, so after we moved back up here, Lorraine came to us one day with a document. She was still in this house, and we were staying in my apartment. Turns out it was a partnership agreement, which Lorraine said gave her half ownership of all of Mama’s antiques.”

  Jeannie added, “As far as we knew, Mama had a will leaving everything to us.”

  “Including her collection of antiques,” Pam said. “Yeah, so we hired an attorney, who said that we need to find Mama’s copy of this agreement, if it exists. She also wants something with Mama’s signature on it to compare with the signature on Lorraine’s document.”

  Jeannie added, “Mama could have signed something if Lorraine asked her to, but from what we hear, she was so in and out of it toward the end of her life that I doubt she would have known what it was. She had no reason not to trust Lorraine, at least as far as we know.”

  “Well, it shouldn’t be difficult to find something with your mother’s signature on it,” Michael said.

  Pam smirked. “You wouldn’t think so, but it appears that Lorraine or someone did a pretty good job of cleaning out her paperwork so there would be nothing to counter her claim.”

  “Was there a will?” Savannah asked.

  “We don’t know for sure,” Pam said. “We thought there was one, but we haven’t been able to find it. We just remember Mama saying things like, ‘When you girls take over all of my treasures.’ You know, she’d tell me what various pieces were worth, maybe a little history of something. Her dream was to open an antique shop.” She glanced at her sister. “When Jeannie decided to leave LA, we agreed to give it a try. Not only would we be honoring our mother’s dream, but it’s something that appeals to both of us, as well.”

  Savannah looked at each of the sisters. “So you believe things are missing from the house here? You mentioned a storage unit. Have you checked that out?”

  Pam let out a deep sigh. “No. We can’t find the key to the unit or to the safe-deposit box.”

  Jeannie added, “And we can’t find any of her personal papers. It’s possible that she put them someplace for safekeeping, but so far we are at a loss as to where that might be.”

  “Holy cow,” Michael blurted. “That doesn’t sound right. Have you asked the caregiver about her personal papers?”

  “Yes. She claims she doesn’t know anything about them.”

  “So tell us about that painting,” Savannah suggested. “You think Lorraine has it?”

  Both Pam and Jeannie nodded confidently. “That’s the one item we’ve been most concerned about. I mean, it was so important to our mother,” Pam said. “Like I think I told you, we planned to make it sort of the hallmark of the shop. The fact that it’s gone pretty much confirms that there probably are other pieces missing.”

  Jeannie shook her head. “If only we could find an inventory sheet of some sort. Mama used to be so organized in her messiness.” She laughed. “I’m just certain there’s a log somewhere itemizing what she had, the prices, maybe where she got it, how much she paid—that sort of thing.”

  “That would certainly be valuable,” Michael agreed.

  “So you think Lorraine has the painting?” Savannah asked.

  “Yes,” Pam said. “After a lot of soul-searching, we decided to confront her.”

  Jeannie nodded. “Boy, was that a mistake. Savannah, I think she has that piece of art, and I think she knows it was one of Mama’s favorites. Mama might have led her to believe it’s valuable. We don’t know if it is or not, but that doesn’t matter to us as much as the fact that Mama treasured it. It meant something to her.”

  Michael frowned. “And you can’t find any of her personal papers? That’s odd.”

  Pam shook her head. “I know she had a small filing cabinet—an antique wooden one, of course—where she kept her personal papers. Last year when I was here she showed me something from a metal box—some bonds. Jeannie and I can’t find the cabinet or that box anywhere.”

  “Do you think this gal has taken on your mother’s identity?” Michael asked. “Is this a case of identity theft?”

  “We’re not sure yet,” Jeannie said. “We didn’t start actually believing our suspicions until we realized the painting was gone. In fact, Lorraine said that since she was a partner in the antiques with our mother, she should receive half of the payment from the insurance company.”

  “So it was insured?” Savannah asked.

  “I don’t know,” Pam confessed. “Like we said, there’s no paper trail.” She leaned forward. “Mama isn’t even getting mail here. We think Lorraine may have Mama’s mail going to a post office box or something.”

  “This all sounds pretty incriminating,” Michael said. “Have you talked to your local police?”

  Pam nodded. “Not enough evidence, they tell us. So we’re doing our best to find eviden
ce—you know, using our memory, contacting local attorneys and banks, trying to piece together what Mama had and where—what’s still in her name. We haven’t even come across her driver’s license or her passport.”

  “Although we don’t know if she had a passport,” Jeannie added.

  “Did she have a car?” Michael asked. “Her signature should be on the title, right?”

  “No title,” Pam said. “The glove box has been cleaned out.”

  “But the car’s still here?” he asked.

  “Yes, it’s an older model. It’s in the garage out back.”

  Savannah sat quietly for a moment, finally asking, “So, what do you have in mind? How do you think we can use Rags in the mystery of this convoluted deceit?”

  Pam glanced at her sister. “I’d love to find a way into Lorraine’s house or storage unit, if she has one. I want to know where she’s living, where she’s storing stuff. I’d like to catch her with some of Mama’s things, then we’d be pretty darn sure she also has the painting.”

  “And you think Rags can find her?” Michael asked puzzled.

  “Well, we have a few leads,” Pam said. “We learned yesterday that she may be living with a new man-friend across town on a llama ranch and could be storing all the stuff that we think she stole in a shed on that property. Maybe the more valuable things are in the house.”

  “How do you know this?” Michael asked.

  “Evidently Lorraine called Mama’s handyman, asking him to do some work for her. He knew we’d been asking questions about her, so he stopped by here and told us what he’d learned.”

  Michael sat up straight. “Wow, that’s a pretty good break, I’d say.” He asked, “Were other people renting out rooms while Lorraine was here? Maybe some of them got friendly with her and have some information that would help your cause.”

  Pam looked at Jeannie, then said, “There were two others when she moved in, but they both moved out shortly after that, and Mama wasn’t in a strong enough frame of mind to find new renters.”

  “But you think you know where Lorraine is?” Savannah confirmed.

  Both sisters nodded. Pam said, “Yeah, but because the police won’t do anything without evidence, and since Lorraine seems to have stolen all the evidence, we may just have to do some of our own sleuthing in order to get the police involved.”

  “And you think Rags can help with that?” Savannah asked.

  “Maybe,” Pam said. “Lorraine is a cat person. She came here to Mama’s with a cat. She used to dress poor Gretchen in silly costumes.”

  Michael and Savannah laughed. She said, “So you think Rags can worm his way in and maybe catch her red-handed?”

  Pam shrugged. “We haven’t devised a plan. We thought we’d wait until you got here.”

  “Yeah,” Jeannie said, looking impishly at Savannah, “since you’ve had so much experience…”

  “Oh great. Thanks,” Savannah complained. “I thought we were coming up to enjoy a nice party at your antique store.”

  “And we will,” Jeannie said, smiling. “If we can just find out what Lorraine has and somehow get it back, boy, would that make our opening spectacular.”

  Pam leaned forward in her chair. “Yes, the more time we spend in this house, the more we remember things that were here when we were growing up and in Mama’s later years.”

  “Many of those things are now gone,” Jeannie said.

  “You don’t think your mother sold off some of her stuff?” Michael asked.

  Pam looked at her sister and they laughed. “Not Mama. I’m afraid she was a hoarder, but she hoarded probably more valuable things than most hoarders do.”

  “Did you say your mom had cats?” Savannah asked.

  “At one time. She didn’t replace Winnie when she died. She was the last in a line of cats Mama had taken care of for years.” Pam asked, “Hey, when’s Chris coming? I thought she was coming with you.”

  Savannah shook her head. “She’s flying up from San Francisco and renting a car. She evidently wanted to attend a conference on some breakthrough in DNA-testing on cats.” She chuckled. “You know, she’s a scientist first. She should be here sometime tomorrow. Does she have your address?”

  “I’m pretty sure she does. If not, she can text us,” Pam said. She leaned forward. “Is anyone hungry? Jeannie made enchiladas. They’re mild. Will the kids eat them? If not, we always keep mac n cheese on hand.”

  “They’re pretty good eaters,” Michael said. “I’m sure they’ll eat whatever you’re serving.”

  “Oops, my phone,” Pam said, picking it up from a side table.

  “Let me help you with dinner,” Savannah offered, following Jeannie into the kitchen.

  “Thank you.” She called, “Shari and Lily, would you like to set the table?”

  “Okay,” Shari said. She took Lily’s hand. “Come on. Mom needs help.”

  The women and the children had just finished setting the table when Pam entered the kitchen. “Savannah, want to see the shop?” she asked. “Stan is picking up a few things to take over there in a little while.”

  Savannah nodded. “Sure.”

  Pam suggested, “Let’s take the cats. I want them to get comfortable in the place before the open house. Sis, you and the kids have something going on tonight, right?”

  Jeannie nodded. “I’m helping with the youth group at church.”

  Savannah looked at Michael, who said, “Sure, hon, go ahead. I’ll get the kids in their jammies.”

  ****

  It was dusk when the handyman drove up. Pam greeted him when he approached the front door. “Hi, Stan. We carried it all out as far as the porch.” She glanced at his pickup truck. “I think you can get it all in there.”

  Before Stan could respond, Michael squeezed past Pam. “I’ll give you a hand.”

  “Stan,” Pam said, “this is Michael. He and his family are here to help us with the grand

  opening.”

  “Thanks,” Stan said, shaking hands with Michael. “I always appreciate help moving things up and down these narrow stairs.”

  Michael chuckled. “They are narrow, aren’t they? That’s surprising with a house this size.”

  “Are you a builder?” Stan asked, picking up a small side table.

  “Only in my dreams.” Michael added, “My wife calls me a weekend renovation warrior or something like that. It’s my hobby.” He lifted a small chair up to Stan, who stood in the bed of the pickup. “I’m a veterinarian.”

  “Oh,” Stan remarked.

  When Pam saw the two men draping moving blankets over the furniture and tucking them in between the various pieces, she took a harness and leash off a hook and called, “Come on, Angel. Let’s go for a ride.”

  Savannah slipped Rags’s harness on him and smiled at Angel, who had rolled over on her back and was kicking gently at Pam. “Doesn’t she like wearing a harness?” she asked, chuckling.

  Pam grimaced. “I imagine it pulls on her fur. We don’t like to use one with her, but sometimes it’s a safer way for her to travel.”

  “Of course,” Savannah said. She walked Rags closer to where Pam was struggling with Angel. “Look, sweet girl,” she crooned, “Rags is all dressed and ready to go. Let Aunt Pam put on your pretty princess harness and let’s go for a ride.”

  Angel stared at Savannah for a moment, then flipped over and allowed Pam to slip the thing on her.

  “Well, how’d you do that?” Pam asked. “I usually have to negotiate with her—you know, give her a treat or something.” She smiled. “Savannah, you’re a miracle worker. Jeannie and I would like to know your secret. Is it mind talk? I read in your book about you using mind talk with Rags sometimes.”

  “Could be,” Savannah said. “Most of the time I have no idea what inspires Rags to do something I want him to do or to do the impish things he does.”

  Pam chuckled as she led the way out the front door. “Savannah,” she said, as they walked up to the truck, “this is St
an. He’s our number-one support system in many ways.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Savannah said, shaking his hand.

  “Stan,” Pam continued, “this is Savannah and Rags. They changed our life, these two. I don’t know what we would have done without them.” She grinned. “And now we’ve invited them into another one of our fiascos.”

  Stan grinned at Pam, then said to Savannah, “Nice to meet you.” He looked down at Rags. “You too kitty-cat.” He took a breath. “Well, let’s load up. We’re burning daylight.”

  “Yeah, it’s almost burned out,” Savannah noticed, climbing into the backseat of the truck.

  Minutes later Pam unlocked the door to their shop and flipped on a light.

  “This is wonderful,” Savannah said. “Look at all this great stuff. Wow! All of this was in your mother’s house?”

  Pam grinned. “Yes, and you think the house is cluttered now, don’t you?”

  Savannah nodded.

  “Just imagine it with all of this in there too, plus what we believe is missing.”

  “Hard to imagine,” Savannah agreed. “You really have some nice stuff here. Oooh, I can’t wait to go shopping.”

  Pam laughed. So did Stan. “Yeah, I’ve been keeping my wife away from here,” he said as he carried in an ornamental mirror. “She loves this kind of stuff. She’s always carting things home from the flea market. I feel like I’m living back in my grandmother’s house full of antiques.”

  Savannah walked around the shop with Rags on his leash. “He seems relaxed here.” She giggled. “That’s probably because he’s in the company of his beautiful mother.”

  Stan had just placed a needlepoint chair where Pam indicated. He looked at Savannah. “Did you say this here fluffy cat is that cat’s mother?”

  Savannah nodded. When he looked skeptical, she said, “DNA doesn’t lie.”

  He shook his head in disbelief, then walked out the door, returning with a small drop-leaf table. He stopped and stared down at the cats again. “You learn something new every day.”