A Picture-Purrfect Christmas (A Klepto Cat Mystery Book 13) (14 page)

He grimaced, then looked across the room into the dining room and laughed, saying, “I’ve never seen a fence around a Christmas tree before.”

She grinned. “I guess you’ve never had a one-year-old at Christmastime.”

“Not for many years,” he said.

“Do you have your tree up?” she asked. When Craig nodded, she said, “So how do you keep Tommy kitty out of it?”

He chuckled. “We don’t. We put all the breakable ornaments on the top half, out of his reach. Iris is having a fit, though. He chews on the bows and you know how finicky she is about her wrapped gifts.”

“Oh yes,” Savannah said. “She does the most beautiful gift wrapping.” She then turned serious. “Craig, don’t let him near those bows. He could ingest them and they can cause serious problems in his intestines. If he’s attracted to ribbon and bows, I’d take every precaution to keep them out of his reach. Be sure to tell Iris that.”

“Oh, I didn’t know,” he said. He glanced at the Christmas tree again. “Looks like you have bows on your packages.”

She nodded. “That’s not something our cats are interested in.” She rolled her eyes. “Rags gets into a lot of mischief, but he does leave the tree and gifts alone.” She reached for Lily as she toddled past them, and smoothed her hair. “It’s this one we have to watch out for." She then turned to Craig and asked, “What about that photo I sent you of what looks like a greenhouse? Is someone growing marijuana out there in the wilderness?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so, Savannah. Our experts don’t think so. But they’ll follow up.”

“If there isn’t something illegal going on out there, why would that guy break Chuckie’s camera?”

Craig continued to stare at the photo of the boy. “I don’t know, Savannah. I just don’t know.” When he looked up, he motioned toward the coffee table and asked, “What’s all this?”

“Oh, some of these are photos I took the other day, but most are photos the students shot. We want to make an album the kids can keep. These are the pictures they chose to go in the book. I printed them out so the kids can work with them more easily. Few of these children have access to a computer, so we’ll do at least some of the work by hand.”

Just as Craig picked up one of the photos, Lily began to fuss. Savannah lifted her onto her lap and held her as the baby rubbed her face on Savannah’s chest. “She’s sleepy. Mind if I put her to bed? I’ll be right back. Help yourself to more coffee if you want.”

When Savannah returned, she noticed Rags sitting a distance away from Craig, a pile of paper scraps in front of him. “What’s this?” she asked.

Craig looked up. “I don’t know—I was checking my email.”

“Rags, this is my photo. You’ve been messing with my pictures, haven’t you? Darn it, anyway.” Before she could scoop up the pieces of the shredded photo, Rags lashed out and slapped at the remnants. He then stood, put his head down and growled at it before turning and walking away. The pair watched as the cat picked up Marissa’s mitten off the ottoman where he’d left it and carefully carried it to Buffy’s pink canopy bed, where he curled up with his head on the mitten.

“What was that about?” Craig asked.

“Well, that’s Marissa’s mitten. Rags is really attached to that little girl. Ever since she went missing, he’s been carrying her mitten around everywhere.”

“No, I mean why did he attack that pile of scraps that way?”

Heck if I know,” Savannah said, picking them up.

“That was a photograph, wasn’t it? What’s it a picture of?” he asked.

“Well, let’s see,” she said, laying the pieces out on the table in front of her. “Looks like one of my scenery pictures. Rags, it’s my favorite one!” she scolded.

Craig stood. “Well, I’d better go and leave you with your sleeping baby and curious cat.”

****

Later that day, Craig called. “Savannah, we’ve identified the boy in that picture…the one who’s all tied up. His name is Darryl Scanlan. He went missing a few weeks ago from his neighborhood.”

“Oh my gosh, Craig. Do you think…?”

“I don’t know what to think, Savannah. But I plan to have a talk with that photographer—see if I can find out where this photo came from. In the meantime, I wanted to ask you…” he cleared his throat, “…tell me about that picture your cat tore up earlier.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Where was it taken?” Craig asked.

“Out near the abandoned mines.”

“Mule Flats?”

“Yeah, I think that’s what they call it.”

“Can you send me that picture?” he asked.

“Sure, it’s on my laptop. I can do that.”

He was silent for a moment, then said, “Want to go for a ride?”

“A ride?”

“On horseback. I’d like to snoop around in that area where the picture was taken.”

“You do? Why?”

“I can’t stop thinking about your cat’s reaction to it. We have nothing else. I have a hunch this may be another one of Rags’s clues. What do you say?”

“Sure, I never turn down an opportunity to ride, and if it will lead us to Marissa…” she choked up. “Absolutely. When?”

“Tomorrow morning?”

****

“Thanks for arranging for this horse…and the truck and trailer,” Craig said.

“Sure. Bonnie and Barney Teague are always eager to help a child. Thanks for driving the rig. I’m not used to pulling a trailer.” She hesitated, then said, “So what do you have in mind?”

“Well, I want you to take me to the spot where you took that picture that the cat attacked. Can you retrace your steps?”

“I’m pretty sure I can,” she said. “What do you expect to see out there?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I need a good clue—something that will lead us in the right direction. I want to find that girl, dammit!”

“And you think she may be out there someplace?” she asked, feeling an ache in the pit of her stomach.

He tightened his lips and chose not to respond. Finally he said, “We have people all over the streets showing her picture to folks in the homeless community, shopkeepers, joggers…and they’ve come up with nothing. I’ve got to follow all leads, clues, and hunches, even those coming from a cat.”

An hour later, the pair rode single file along the trail toward the meadow where Savannah and Shelly had taken most of their scenic shots. Upon their arrival, the detective scanned the horizon from horseback. “Wish I knew what I was looking for,” he said. As if speaking to himself, he added, “Look for what doesn’t belong.”

“What?” she asked.

“Oh, it’s a rule of thumb thing I learned a long time ago from an old hunter. He’d say, ‘look for something that’s out of place…that doesn’t belong.’” He peered at Savannah. “Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I think I do,” she said, raising her camera and snapping a few photos.

As she lowered the camera, Craig asked, “So do you see anything that doesn’t seem to fit out there?”

When Savannah shook her head, Craig said, “Well, let’s keep looking. Show me where you took that picture of the…”

“Greenhouse?” she said. “Come on; follow me.”

“How far do you think it is to that area?” he asked once they’d ridden to the top of the knoll.

“As the crow flies?” she asked, “…or on horseback? Probably half-day’s ride.”

He held binoculars up to his eyes and studied the area in the distance. “It does look suspicious. Do you think the little girl noticed this the day you were out here with the students? Maybe those dirt bike dudes you told me about took her to keep her quiet.”

Savannah thought before saying, “I can’t imagine that. She wasn’t up on the knoll. She paid more attention to macro-shooting.” When he looked confused, she explained, “Close-up shots of bugs, fish, and flowers.” She shook her head. “No, she didn’t have any contact with those guys. In fact, I didn’t actually see who it was that broke Chuckie’s camera. Shelly and I assumed it was the same two dirt bike guys we’ve encountered out here a couple of times before.”

As the pair made their way down the knoll, Craig muttered, “Another darned dead end. When are we going to get a break?” He turned to Savannah, saying in an accusatory manner, “It appears that your cat’s losing his touch.”

“And it seems that you’re losing your patience, Craig.” Savannah hesitated, then continued, “We probably jumped to the wrong conclusion. Maybe what Rags showed us wasn’t a clue at all.”

“So why did we come all the way out here? I don’t have time for a wild-goose chase, Savannah.” He stood briefly in his stirrups, gazing across the vast wilderness. “And that little girl may not have much time left…if she’s even still…”

“Don’t go there, Craig,” Savannah snapped, her eyes welling up. “She will be home for Christmas. She just has to be!” She spoke more harshly. “And don’t lay this on me; you’re the one who thought it was a clue worth following.”

The detective grimaced and looked down at the reins in his hand. “Yeah, Christmas was my goal for her, too. What’s that…three days away? I guess we’re both doing a lot of wishful thinking. I’m just so...”

“I know, Craig. I’m disappointed, too…and horribly scared for Marissa. With so little to go on, what else can we do but reach for straws?”

“I guess,” he said, sighing deeply. “…even if it means listening to your…cat,” he spat.

“He’s been right before,” Savannah reminded him. “You know he has.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, removing his baseball cap and sliding it back on. He pulled his coat collar up around his ears and shivered. “Let’s get out of the weather, shall we?”

“Sure. Come on, Peaches,” she said, reining her mare around. She stuffed her free hand into her jacket pocket, her heart heavy with sorrow and dread.

****

Two hours later, as the pair headed home in the borrowed truck, Savannah clicked through the photos she’d taken that day. Neither she nor Craig had much to say after their cross words.
He sure can get cranky,
she thought to herself.
It’s as if he blames Rags for this…as he says…“wild goose chase.” That’s absurd.
She glanced at the detective.
Poor guy. I’m sure he’s as worried about Marissa as I am, and he knows more about what danger she might be facing than I do. I hate to think about what causes that crusty persona that comes out when he’s facing a tough case involving an innocent child.
And I hate it when he snaps at me.

Craig broke the ice. “Anything unusual showing up—in your pictures, I mean?”

“Not that I can see,” she said.

The detective was silent for several miles before announcing, “I’m going to have dogs brought out here.”

She faced him. “Really? Still going on a hunch, are you?”

“Yes, and logic.” He glanced at her. “You saw those mine shafts.”

She nodded. “But we rode all through that area and didn’t see a sign that she’s out there.”

“You’re not a search dog. They’re trained, you know.” He looked at her. “I think it’s worth a try.”

“Why would someone take her out there?” she asked, choking up. She lowered her voice. “What makes you think she’s out there somewhere?”

“Savannah, investigative work is based on several things—the facts, hunches, and what we know about human nature.”

“Human nature?” Savannah questioned. “Anyone who would hurt that defenseless sweet girl or hold her against her will is not human in my mind, but go on,” she challenged. “I’m interested in your thought process.”

“Okay, her father is a lowlife—always looking for a way to use her to make a buck. He sold her once; maybe he did it again. Maybe he sold her to someone who wants to exploit her in some way.” He glanced at Savannah. “We saw the picture of the boy tied up—it occurred to me that he could have been held in one of those mine shafts. You saw how dirty he looked. Makes sense that this is where he is…or was…being held. Could Marissa have fallen prey to the same scumbags?”

Suddenly, Savannah shouted, “Craig!”

“What?” he asked, flinching and looking around.

She leaned toward him. “That little boy—the one in the picture all tied up—I saw him out here. That’s where I saw him. On the back of a bike with one of those creepy guys. It was him!” she shouted. “That’s where I saw him before.” She put her hands up to her mouth. “Oh my gosh, Craig, do you think they stole that little boy?”

The detective was quiet for a moment. He then asked, “You’re sure?”

“Yes, pretty positive. Shelly saw him, too. Let’s show her the picture and see what she says.”

“Good idea. Now, when was it you saw him?”

“Last Tuesday…a week ago Tuesday when Shelly and I went riding. When did you say he went missing?”

“Sometime earlier this month—around Lily’s birthday party, as I recall.” He picked up his phone and made a quick call. “I want search dogs out in the Mule Flats area ASAP. Let me know when they can be delivered to the trailhead and I’ll meet you there with the scent material. Better requisition dirt bikes or all-terrain vehicles of some kind.” He listened for a minute, then said, “We have five hours of daylight. I want them out there today!”

After he ended the call, Savannah said, her eyes darting across the terrain as her mind revved into high gear, “Maybe those guys did see Marissa…she was out of my sight for a few minutes. Do you think they followed her into town and snatched her? Maybe her father had nothing to do with her disappearance.” She took a deep breath through gritted teeth. “Oh, I just wish we knew where she was. She has to be all right. She just has to!”

Craig reached over and patted Savannah’s hand. “Okay, let’s get these beasts back in their corrals. Do you mind if we leave your horse at the Teagues’ place? After I get my car and drop you off, I’ll make another run out to Mule Flats. Let’s hope the dogs can do their job before it’s too late.”

“I don’t want to hear about
too late
,
Craig,” she demanded.

“Savannah, be realistic.”

“No!” she said. “
You
be realistic. God couldn’t possibly let anything evil happen to that sweet spirit.” Savannah was sure Craig had more to say, but was glad that he decided to hold his tongue.

****

When Michael arrived home from work that evening, he found Savannah in the office staring at photos on the computer screen.

“Da-da-da-da-da-da,” Lily chirped when she saw her daddy.