The Secret in the Whiskers

by Patricia Fry

  “Well,” Pam said, dropping her purse and jacket on a gateleg table, “we got there maybe just in time.”

  “For what?” Chris asked amused.

  Jeannie giggled. “We saw what looked like Lorraine’s car pulling into the storage facility as we were leaving.”

  “She didn’t have those keys,” Savannah reminded them. “Do you think she had duplicates made?”

  Pam nodded. “Could be. If so, “that’s troubling. What else might she have keys to?”

  “Yes, that has us concerned,” Jeannie agreed. She nudged her sister. “Tell them what we found.”

  “Oh yeah,” Pam said, “everything seems to be just as it was before Mama died. It doesn’t appear that anything’s been disturbed.”

  “What about the painting?” Savannah asked. “Did you find it?”

  “No. It was still hanging in the house, probably until the day Mama died,” Pam said. “I didn’t notice it was missing until after the funeral. A longtime friend asked me about it. I took him in there to see it, and that’s when I noticed it was gone. So I don’t know when it went missing.”

  “Mama could have moved it or had someone move it before she died,” Jeannie said, “but my money’s still on Lorraine having it.”

  Everyone stared at Jeannie, and Chris said, “So do you have any idea where she might have it?”

  Pam responded, “It could be in that shed where we found the file cabinet or inside the house.”

  “There’s also the possibility that she has sold it,” Jeannie reminded them.

  “Or that it’s here someplace,” Michael said. When the others looked at him, he said, “Do you know of any hiding places in this house?” He chuckled. “I can imagine this place being loaded with hidey-holes.”

  Pam looked at Jeannie. “Yeah, I remember some from when we were kids.”

  “Me too.” Pam said. “I haven’t thought about that for years.”

  “Well, this is a good time to refresh your memory,” Michael suggested. “You might find that thing right here, safe and sound.”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice?” Jeannie said, smiling. “Hey, I think that’s a brilliant idea. Thank you, Michael.”

  “Yeah,” Pam said, “let’s go on a treasure hunt, shall we?”

  “Mommy, can I go on a treasure hunt?” Lily chirped.

  “I want to hunt,” Teddy whined.

  “Sure, let’s all go,” Jeannie said. “I’ll take Savannah and the kids upstairs. Pam, why don’t you and Chris look around downstairs?” When they heard a loud meow, everyone laughed, and Jeannie said, “Sure, cats are welcome. Come on. Joining us Michael?”

  “Naw, I think I’ll finish my magazine,” he said.

  ****

  “Daddy, look what I found,” Lily shouted, entering the room a while later carrying a small bag.

  “What is it?” he asked, glancing at the women who followed her in.

  “Treasures,” she said. She sat down and poured the contents on the floor in front of her. “See, a bird nest…”

  “A bird nest?” Michael said. “Or is it a rat’s nest? Savannah…” he called.

  “Relax,” she told him. “Jeannie said it was hers. She remembers putting it there when she was a kid. It’s a bird nest.”

  “Fingernail polish,” Lily said, holding up a bottle. “This was in a different place with this.”

  “What’s that?” Michael asked.

  “Eyelashes. Pretend ones…” Lily explained.

  Michael shook his head in bewilderment.

  “I wasn’t allowed to use make up and stuff like that,” Pam said. “At least not at thirteen.”

  “So you lived here all your life?” Michael asked.

  Jeannie shook her head. “We move in here when we were ten and twelve.” She glanced around. “But it didn’t look like this then. Our mother started the makeover when Grandpa died.”

  “I find nail,” Teddy said, holding up his treasure, “and this,” he added.

  “What’s that?”

  Teddy handed it to Michael, and he examined it, saying, “A pipe.” He chuckled. “So you girls hid your smoking habit too, did you?”

  “Not us,” Pam said. “That was probably Daddy. It’s a wonder he didn’t burn the place down, hiding his pipes in those cubbyholes.”

  Michael smiled, then asked, “So no painting, huh?”

  “No,” Jeannie said, “but your cat found this.” She held up an envelope.

  “Yeah,” Chris said, “he nearly bonked Angel on the head when he knocked over a cool metal magazine rack digging for this.”

  “Looks like a letter,” Michael said.

  “Yes, a letter ‘to whom it may concern’,” Pam said. “Mom wrote it voicing her suspicions about Lorraine.”

  “Oh, really?” Michael said. “That was a good find. That might be the saving grace in your tussle with that woman. If your mother wrote this during a lucid moment, it could be gold to your case.”

  “Yes,” Pam said. She picked up Rags and snuggled with him. “Thank you, Rags. We’ll have to take you and Angel on more treasure hunts.”

  “Did Angel find something too?” Michael asked, picking her up as she walked past. He placed her on his lap and she sat looking up at him.

  “She sure did,” Jeannie said proudly. “She found the report card I hid from my parents in eighth grade, along with a sample of Mama’s handwriting for when I wanted to ditch school.”

  “You were a regular rascal, weren’t you?” Chris said.

  “And not very smart. Even if I’d shredded the report card, my folks could get a copy of it from the school, which they did. My teacher pointed out to them the number of days I’d missed, so they realized I’d been cutting classes.”

  Michael looked at his watch. “What’s for dinner, gals? It’s getting late. Want me to go out and get us something?”

  “Oh, no, sorry about that,” Pam said. “I have dinner in the slow cooker. It should be ready. Does everyone like beef Burgundy with rice? We also have a big green salad, thanks to Savannah.”

  “Sounds great. Want me to do anything?” Michael asked.

  “Aren’t you a jewel?” Pam said.

  “Just showing off, I’m afraid,” Michael quipped.

  “No he’s not,” Savannah defended. “He’s really helpful in the kitchen and around the house.” She picked up Teddy and took Lily’s hand. “Let’s go get washed up for dinner, shall we?”

  ****

  “Tonight’s gotta be the night,” Pam said later that evening.

  “Okay,” Jeannie agreed, “what are we going to do? How do you want to work this?”

  “Well, for one thing little sister, you’re not going.”

  “Pulling rank on her, are you?” Chris said.

  “Yeah, she doesn’t need to have any sort of run-in with the law—not after what her husband did to her.” She shook her head. “We’re just lucky he didn’t try to somehow blame her for poor Mrs. Gallagher’s murder.”

  “He did,” Jeannie said. The others looked startled, and she explained, “Well, he tried to. He threatened to. For the first time in my life I stood up to him, though, sort of called his bluff, you might say. When he realized there was no way I would take the rap for him and there was no way he could frame me, he backed off.”

  Savannah patted Jeannie’s hand and smiled.

  Pam looked toward the staircase where Michael had gone to put the children to bed. She asked quietly, “Savannah, do you think Michael would join us tonight?”

  She frowned. “Gosh, I don’t know. Probably not. I mean, he doesn’t like it when I go out on missions like this with our detective friend and Rags.”

  “Maybe you’ve never invited him,” Chris said. “Maybe he would like to go. Do we need him?”

  Pam nodded. “Maybe. In case we need to move something.”

  “Don’t you think that between us, we could move a piece of furniture if we wanted to?” Savannah asked.

  Pam shrugged. “Probab
ly.”

  “But yeah, we could ask him.” Savannah looked at Jeannie. “So you’re staying here?”

  “Yes, I’d be glad to keep an eye on the kids.”

  “Okay, then let’s ask him,” Savannah said. “Here he comes.” Looking up at him, she said, “Michael we were just talking about you.”

  “Good or bad?” he asked.

  “Well…” she stalled.

  “Uh-oh,” he murmured.

  “Michael, we’re wondering if you’ll go with us tonight in search of that painting.”

  “Gee, guys, I’m not really cut out to be a burglar-type.”

  Savannah tested her persuasive power. “You heard Jeannie say that their attorney actually sanctioned us to try to locate the painting and anything else we think is valuable before Lorraine does something with the stuff.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure I’d trust an attorney who would say something like that.” When no one else spoke, he added, “But I guess I should go just to keep an eye on you girls. What is it you want me to do, anyway? I can tell you right now that I won’t be doing any breaking and entering.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “Okay, here’s the plan,” Pam said. “We’ll take Chris’s rental car.” She faced Chris. “If that’s okay with you.”

  Chris shrugged.

  “We’ll park out behind the place and really go through that shed. If the painting’s not there,” Pam said, “we can be pretty sure that if she still has it, it’s in her house.”

  “Have you ever thought of using a plant?” Michael asked.

  “What?” Pam questioned.

  “Well, is there anyone you can put inside the house—a vacuum cleaner salesman, or real estate agent, or one of those church people who come around, for heaven’s sake?”

  “Great idea,” Pam said. “Hey, wait. She doesn’t know you, Savannah, or you, Chris.”

  “We were at the shop when she barged in earlier,” Savannah reminded her, “but yeah, I don’t think she looked at me. Did she see you, Chris?”

  “I doubt it,” Chris said.

  “Yeah, you two could probably get access to the house with some made up story, right?” Michael said.

  Both women put their hands up in defense. Savannah said, “Uh-uh. Hey, Michael, what are you trying to do, anyway?”

  Jeannie said, “Yeah, that might work. One or both of you could find a reason to go inside and snoop around. Hey, you could be policewomen looking for a missing child.”

  “Or a missing cat!” Chris said.

  “What?” Savannah shrieked.

  Jeannie leaned forward. “Yeah, let’s somehow get Rags into that house and you and Chris can knock on the door and ask about a missing cat.”

  “Brilliant!” Pam said. “I’ve been staying awake at night trying to figure out how to get inside.”

  “Well, let’s go out there and see what we can see, shall we?” Michael suggested. “Hopefully the house is dark and everyone’s asleep by now, so we can snoop.”

  “What if they have a camera? You know, one of those surveillance cameras or a doorbell camera?” Chris asked.

  “Hmmm,” Savannah said. “I don’t think they do, but let’s check it out before we encroach on the place.”

  “You ladies sound just like a bunch of gangsters, only maybe a little more savvy than some,” Michael said, laughing.

  “Ready?” Pam asked.

  “Good luck,” Jeannie said, then she stopped Savannah. “Hey, go put on something more appropriate, would you?”

  “What?” she questioned, glancing down at herself. She looked sheepish. “Oh, I am kind of bright, aren’t I?”

  “Do you have something dark to wear?” Pam asked.

  “Yes. Be right back.”

  Chapter Eight

  “This is the place,” Pam said as they pulled up on the south side of the property outside the wire fence.

  “Yikes,” Savannah yelped. “They’re having a party. Look at all those cars, and the place is all lit up inside.”

  “Dang,” Pam complained.

  “That could be a good thing,” Chris said with renewed energy. “We won’t be noticed out here with all of that going on inside. And if anyone does see us, we’ll just behave as if we’re guests.”

  “Hey,” Savannah said, “I’ll bet we can crash that party without being noticed.”

  “Oh, you’ll be noticed, dressed in all black,” Pam said.

  Savannah unzipped her lightweight jacket, opening it to reveal a bright turquoise blouse. “Oh, no I won’t.”

  “Perfect!” Chris said. “Yeah, that’s a good look. Want to go inside?”

  Savannah nodded. “Sure, I’m thirsty, plus I could use a sip of courage. Let’s go see what they have to drink. Coming, Chris? Michael, want to be my date?”

  He took the leash from her. “Uh-uh, I’m the catsitter. You and Chris go have a good time.”

  Chris looped her arm in Savannah’s. “Okay, let’s party.”

  “Meanwhile, Michael,” Pam said, “we shouldn’t be noticed out here rooting around in this shed, do you think?”

  He shrugged. “Probably not. Now what size is that painting? Bigger than a bread box?”

  “It’s about like this,” she showed him with her hands.

  “So about thirty by forty?” he said. “Three and a half feet by two and a half? It’s not a tiny thing, is it? It should be easy to spot if it’s in there.”

  “Yes. Shall we go?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Come on Rags, let’s find that kitty-cat art.” He asked, “You didn’t want to bring Angel tonight?”

  “No. She’s more liable to get in the way or lost or something. I don’t really like to be responsible for her. Jeannie is so attached.”

  He smiled. “I know what you mean.” He nodded toward Rags. “Makes me kind of nervous to be in charge of this guy, too.”

  ****

  “We know where it is!” Savannah hissed as the quartet made their way back through the fence and toward the car about an hour later.

  “You do?” Pam asked excitedly. “Where is it? Did you see it?”

  “Not exactly,” Chris said, “but we talked to someone who has seen it within the last few days.”

  “No kidding?” Pam said, climbing into the car with the others. “So you didn’t create any suspicion?”

  Savannah laughed. “No. Not until Rags showed up.” She looked at the others. “How did that happen, anyway?”

  Michael looked sheepish. “Yeah, about that—I think the snap on the leash is faulty. One minute he was on the leash, squeezing in and out between everything in the shed—I guess he went under something—anyway, next thing I knew I was holding a limp leash and he was nowhere to be seen. I guess he went looking for you.”

  “Well, he found me after freaking out a couple of women who were pretty wasted, actually. You probably heard that one blood-curdling scream.”

  Chris laughed loudly. “Luckily that chick spilled her martini or whatever that fancy drink was and that got the focus off us as we scooped up the cat and walked casually out the door.”

  “Did you find antiques in the place?” Pam asked. “Darn, I should have told you what to look for in there along with the painting.”

  “Oh yes,” Chris said. “We saw antiques. I have scads of pictures on my phone.”

  Savannah giggled. “You should have seen her being all sneaky getting pictures of everything.”

  “And Lorraine or her boyfriend didn’t notice?” Pam asked.

  “No, they were so into themselves. What a narcissistic couple!” Chris barked.

  “A couple of show-offs,” Savannah said. “And Pam, they took great pride in showing off what could have been some of your mother’s things.”

  “Really?” she said, her teeth clenched. She asked, “So what did you find out about the painting?”

  “An artist—evidently a friend of the boyfriend—Boyd is his name.”

  “The boyfriend or the friend?
” Michael asked.

  “Lorraine’s attorney boyfriend is Boyd. The guy we talked to—the friend—is Earl. Well, he talked about this unusual, unique, and valuable painting that Boyd had shown him once. Chris and I just played along, letting him brag it up, while we found out as much as we could.”

  Chris nodded. “We got the impression that it’s in Boyd’s office.” She glanced at Savannah. “We’re not sure if it’s hanging there or if it’s in a safe, but that’s where we think it is.”

  “Well, darn. Did you get an address?” Pam asked.

  “Sure did. From what we understand, though, it’s not in a public area, so we might have to make a fake appointment to get inside Boyd’s office.” Savannah read an address from a business card.

  “Wait, is that the offices of Marchman, Weston, and Grant?” Pam asked.

  “I believe so,” Savannah said. “His name’s Boyd Grant.”

  “Low man on the totem pole, huh?” Michael quipped.

  “And scraping the bottom of the barrel with his girlfriend,” Pam observed with sarcasm. Once the quartet was in the car, Pam said, ruminating, “I have a friend who cleans offices in that area. He owns the cleaning company, and he’s making pretty good money, actually. Let me check with him and see if he happens to clean that building and whether or not he could get inside to take a picture of the painting for us. Once we have that evidence, we should be able to involve the police.”

  “Sounds reasonable to me,” Michael said.

  Pam pulled out her phone and placed a call, then reported minutes later, “Great news! His crew is there in that building tonight. He’s going over there to check for us.”

  “Wow, he must be a good friend,” Chris said.

  Pam nodded. “He’d like to marry me. I haven’t decided yet.” She grinned. “After this, though…”

  “You little devil,” Savannah said, chuckling.

  Just as the foursome entered the living room of the fairytale home, Pam received a text. “It’s there!” she shouted, jumping up and down.