Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 04 - Undercover Cat (6 page)

“I am?”

“Yes, your sister keeps telling me about something moving around out there at night. You saw this out beyond the orchard, right?”

“Yes!” Brianna said, excitement in her voice.

“Well, I’ve never seen it. But now that there are two sightings, I’m going to have to investigate, I guess.”

“You didn’t believe me?” Savannah said.

“Aw honey, I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.”

“Well, that’s what it sounded like to me.”

Brianna, sensing tension in the air tried to lighten the mood. “Hey Sis, let’s take a walk out there this afternoon when we get back from church, want to?” Brianna said. “We’ll go exploring like we did when we were kids.”

“Great idea, don’t you think, hon?” Michael said, reaching over and squeezing Savannah’s hand.

She thinned her lips, blinked her green eyes, and smiled. “Yes, sounds like fun. Only…”

“Only what?” Brianna said, frowning over at her sister.

“Only, I don’t know if I can keep up with you anymore.”

Brianna threw her arms up in the air. “Yay!” she said exuberantly. “I can finally out-walk stilt woman.”

“Don’t count on it, Brianna,” Michael said. “She can still chase me around this house and usually catch me, too.”

“Only because you want to be caught,” Savannah said, slapping Michael on the arm.

Everyone laughed.

“Hey hon,” Michael said, addressing Savannah in a more serious tone, “did you get a chance to look at the paper last night?”

“No, why?” she asked, apprehensively.

“There’s a story about Colbi’s disappearance.”

“Oh no,” Savannah said, her forehead creasing into a frown. “What’s going on?”

“No one knows. They found both of her cars at her house. It looks like there was a scuffle outside her home and she is gone—vanished.”

“Now, how old is this missing person?” Gladys asked. “How do you know her?”

“She’s around my age,” Savannah said, “…maybe a little younger—thirty, maybe… She’s a sweet thing—a reporter for the newspaper. She writes about cats—well, and other animals, and she does some feature articles, too.”

“Iris’s son has also become a writer and the two of them work together at the paper,” Michael explained. “From what Iris tells me, Damon is sweet on her.”

“Oh, I wondered about that,” Savannah said with a smile. “So they are an item?” She frowned and lowered her eyes. “Damon must be out of his mind with worry.”

“Yes, according to the article, he was the last one to see her before she disappeared.”

“Good gosh.” Savannah gasped. “They don’t think he had anything…”

“I hope not,” Michael said. “There was no indication of that in last night’s story.”

The room went quiet for a few moments and then Michael said, “Well, ladies, I have a few chores to take care of before we head out.” He slapped his napkin onto the table and stood to leave.

Everyone turned their heads toward the sound of Lexie’s jangling collar. “Yes, you can go out with me, girl,” Michael said, watching her step out of her bed, stretch, and shake. He opened the side kitchen door and the two of them walked out.

Several minutes later, Michael pushed the door open and he and the dog came back inside. The three women were clearing the table and rinsing the dishes. “Savannah,” he said, concern in his eyes, “do you know what happened to that bag of grain we had in the tack room?”

Savannah cocked her head and thought. “No. It isn’t out there? It was there when Bonnie came and took Peaches. I would have given it to her, but she said she feeds the same brand and would supply it as part of our boarding agreement.” She thought for a moment and finally said, “No, Michael. There should be over half a bag left. And a bag of alfalfa pellets, too.”

“Gone,” Michael said.

“And my saddle?” she asked apprehensively.

“Oh the tack’s there. But I wanted to take the leftover feed to the shelter for that new pony they rescued. They can use it, and I don’t want to leave the bags here and encourage mildew and rats over the winter.”

“Good idea.”

“But it’s gone.”

“Maybe Dottie comes in and eats it.”

“No, Dottie couldn’t carry the bag away—both bags are gone.”

“Who’s Dottie?” Gladys asked.

“Neighborhood bunny—one of Lexie’s friends,” Michael said absently. He raked his hand through his hair. “I don’t like this. I’m going to get a padlock today and lock that sucker up.”

“Good idea,” Savannah said. She looked up at the clock. “Oh, nearly nine…” She addressed their guests, “You two better get ready for church.”

***

After the service, Gladys and Savannah walked arm-in-arm toward the car. Brianna and Michael were bantering with one another a few yards ahead of them. Gladys said, “This is such a nice small church—has a comfortable feel.” She looked up at her daughter. “Bob has a church. I go with him occasionally. Really should get back into the habit of attending regularly.”

Savannah smiled. “We enjoy the spiritual dose once a week. And Adam seems to like attending the children’s program on the weekends he’s here visiting his dad.”

“Seems as though everyone in town knows the
Iveys,” Gladys remarked.

“Well, when you’re in business in a small town, you do know practically everyone. And Michael just joined the chamber of commerce, so he’s getting to know some of the business leaders in the area.”

“You guys hungry?” Max asked as he and Margaret caught up with Gladys and Savannah.

“I could eat a…well, not a horse…” Savannah laughed.
“…but a cow, maybe.”

“
Gotta feed our baby,” Margaret said, patting Savannah’s belly.

“Meet you guys at the diner,” Michael called out to Margaret and Max as they veered off and walked toward their own car.

***

Once everyone was seated at a table for six at the diner, Savannah asked her sister, “Where’s Bud today?”

“You guys are making him work,” she said, feigning a pout.

“That’s not right,” Michael said. “He’s a veterinarian now, not a tech. He doesn’t have to do rounds on weekends, unless there’s a problem.”

Brianna was silent—looked down at her hands in her lap.

“What’s wrong, Sis?” Savannah
asked, concern in her tone.

“Nothing,” she responded curtly. “Nothing’s wrong,” she insisted.

“Hi everyone,” Iris greeted. “Good to see you Mrs. Jordan, Brianna. What can I get you all to drink this morning?”

“Hi Iris; it’s Gladys,” she said reaching her hand out.

Iris took her hand and smiled warmly. “Gladys,” she said.

After Iris took the orders and turned to walk away, Michael asked quietly, “Iris, any word about
Colbi?”

Iris lowered her eyes and slowly shook her head.
“Nothing. Damon is…well, he’s devastated. So worried, he can’t sleep. We just can’t imagine what has happened to her.” She moved in closer and said in a hushed tone, “Damon seems to think she was working on a story about cat hoarders when she disappeared.”

“Cat hoarders?” Savannah repeated. “That would have been an interesting story.”

Margaret spoke up. “I hear Damon was the last one to see her.”

Iris glared over at Margaret. “Maggie, don’t even go there,” she warned. She glanced around the room and then back at Margaret. “We don’t want to attract any trouble. Damon is hurting. He’s confused. He loves that girl. She’s all he can think about.” She stared hard at Margaret. “He had nothing to do with her disappearance.” She took a breath, as if she wanted to say something more, but instead, snatched the menus from the table, turned quickly and walked away.

“Oh my,” Margaret said, trying to look innocent, “I didn’t mean to open a can of worms.”

“Well, obviously, you did,” Max scolded.

“I’ll have to apologize to dear Iris. I didn’t mean…” she started. “It’s just that…”

“Yeah, with him recently out of jail and all…” Michael tried to take up the slack. He leaned across the table toward Savannah’s aunt. “But Maggie, you’ve
gotta know this is a sensitive subject for Iris. And Damon has never been in any trouble for hurting anyone. His trouble was more about hurting himself with those drugs.”

“Yeah,” Brianna said, “you guys better hope he doesn’t go back to them.”

“Why would he do that, Bri?” Gladys asked.

“To try to block the pain, Mom…that’s what druggies do. They can’t face reality, so they self-medicate.”

“How do you know that?” Gladys asked, facing her younger daughter.

“I’m a doctor, Mom, remember?”

“Let’s change the subject,” Michael suggested. “Brianna, I want to hear about your new job.”

“Yes,” Max said, “I hear you’ll be working with seniors.”

Just then, Iris walked over and broke in. “Sorry guys,” she said. “I’m in a bit of a foul mood this morning. Didn’t mean to snap at you.” She patted Margaret on the arm. She pulled a chair from another table and perched on the edge of it. She glanced around the room and then spoke to the group in hushed tones, “I just found out that Frank told the sheriff’s investigators that Damon and Colbi were arguing in here Thursday night. I guess they will be questioning Damon about this. Has me pretty scared.”

“I can imagine it does,” Michael said.

“But I know…” she started. She then looked over at the window behind the counter. “Crap, order’s up—I’ll talk to you guys later,” she said as she stood, replaced the chair, and walked away.

In the meantime, on Sunday around noon, Damon drove his 1998 Honda Civic down the rutted driveway toward Colbi’s house. He stopped the car outside the ring of yellow police tape and killed the engine.
Where is she? What could have happened to her?
He felt as if his heart would break. There was a knot in his stomach.
Gotta stay focused,
he thought to himself.
Need to feed those cats.

Damon exited the car, reached into the backseat, and unloaded a large bag of cat kibbles. As he carried it toward the porch, he saw movement. Swatches of different-colored fur appeared and then disappeared above and then under the porch. He stopped. He could see those round green eyes peering at him from between the steps. He bent down and stared back for a few seconds before continuing with his mission. Cats of all sizes and colors scurried to position themselves within their individual comfort zones as Damon approached the feeding area. Some waited cautiously near the food bowls, while others hid in nearby shrubs, around the side of the house, or deep under the porch. He reached in and pulled the bowls out, filling each of them to the brim with the kibbles. He then slid the bowls back under the porch shelter and began filling the two large water bowls with fresh water.

Before walking away, he took another look and saw the smallest cat—the long-haired, light-grey-and-white striped cat with the round green eyes—sitting back and staring.
Looks like he’s shaking,
he thought. He moved closer.
Looks cold.
He stood up.
But what can I do about it? These cats are wild and they know how to fend for themselves. All cats can hunt and find shelter. Cripes, I don’t even know why I’m feeding them, except…except that I know Colbi would want someone to.

He walked over to his car and put the bag of cat food on the floorboards in the backseat. As he rose, preparing to climb into the driver’s seat, he heard the sound of car tires crunching on the sparse gravel and hitting ruts along the driveway. He looked up and saw a sheriff’s unit pulling in behind him. He watched as Deputies Jim and Ben stepped out.

“Jackson?” Jim said.

“Yeah,” Damon responded.

“We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

“Sure, what?”

“First, what are you doing here?” Jim asked taking a sweeping look around the property.

“Feeding the cats.”

“Cats?”

“Yeah,
Colbi feeds a bunch of wild cats out here. I’m pretty sure she would want me to do it while she’s…” He felt a wave of emotion and couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Can you prove it?” Jim asked.

Damon frowned. “Well, yeah. The bag of food is right here in the car. You can go look at their dishes—they’re full. I just filled them.” He looked confused. “What’s this all about?”

Jim said, “I understand you were the last one to see Ms. Stanton…” He looked at his notes. “…Thursday, before she disappeared, is that right?”

“I think so. Like I told Craig, we had coffee that night after work.” He looked around and asked, “Where is Craig, anyway—isn’t he the investigator?”

“He asked us to talk to you.” Jim cleared his throat and continued, “You were heard arguing.”

“Huh?” Damon scratched his head? “Arguing? Me and Colbi?”

“You’re denying that you and Ms. Stanton argued that night?
Loudly?”

Damon snickered. “I guess you guys don’t know
Colbi. She’s small, but she is big on opinion and she can sure voice it loud and clear when someone challenges her.”

“So you challenged her?” Jim asked.

Damon shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

“About what?”

“Cats!” he said with a chuckle.

“Cats? How’s that?”

“Oh, I don’t like cats and she really likes them. I guess she was ranting about how special cats are and how people abuse them—things like that. I wasn’t really paying much attention to her. I’ve learned that, with
Colbi—you just have to kind of let her do her thing until she runs out of steam.” He shook his head. “Oh no, we weren’t arguing. But I guess she was talking kind of loud. She always raises her voice when she’s defending her position.”

“So you weren’t angry? You didn’t yell at her?” the deputy asked.

Damon scowled. “No, how do you argue against a woman who is passionate about something?” He looked from one to the other of the deputies. “She’s passionate about cats and it was just one of her rants. I thought it was kinda funny, the way she got all stirred up like that.”

Deputy Jim pursed his lips. He looked over at his partner and then back at Damon. He then opened the back door to the Honda and peered in. “Yup, there’s a bag of cat food in here.” He stepped over to the porch and looked around. He bent down and spotted a few cats eating from overflowing bowls—others skittered away when Jim approached. “There are cats here.”

He walked back over to Damon and said,” Okay Jackson. Don’t make any plans to leave town, will you? We may have more questions.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said “…at least not until you guys find
Colbi.”

Jim addressed his partner, “Ben, move the cruiser will you, so Jackson can leave. I want to take another look around.”

***

“Ready for that adventure?”
Brianna asked, playfully punching her sister in the arm as she entered the living room after a brief nap that afternoon.

Savannah rose from the sofa. “Sure.” She glanced over at her mother. “
Wanna come, Mom?” she asked.

Gladys looked up from her Kindle, thought about it and said, “No, I think I’ll read some more. I’m almost to the good part.” She grinned and then looked down at Buffy, who was curled up in her lap. “Besides, I don’t want to disturb this sweet cat. What’s her name, again?”

“Buffy. Just look at her color—buff—Buffy.”

Gladys ran her hand over the cat’s long fawn and chocolate fur. “Buffy,” she said.

The cat raised her head and silently mewed.

“Let me get my mud boots,” Savannah said, heading toward the kitchen. She glanced out through a window and noticed it was slightly overcast. She added, “And my jacket.
Bri, do you want to borrow my clogs?”

Brianna shook her head in disbelief. She looked down at her own feet and then over at Savannah’s.

“You could wear your slippers inside them like you did last spring. Then they’ll fit those dainty feet of yours.”

“Didn’t bring my slippers.
I’ll just wear these tennies. I can wash them if they get muddy.” She looked over at the dog’s empty bed. “Hey, where’s Lexie?”

Savannah emerged from the service porch wearing her rubber boots and a jacket. “Oh, I think she went out with Michael.”

Once outside, the sisters walked across the lawn, along a stone pathway toward the corral. They waved at Michael, who was installing a latch suitable for padlocking on the tack room door. Lexie, who had been lying near where Michael worked, spotted the women and rushed out to greet them.

“Can she come with us?” Brianna asked.

“Yeah, if she wants to,” Savannah responded. She looked over at the dog and noticed she was dancing excitedly around as if eagerly awaiting an invitation. “Come on, girl,” Savannah urged. Lexie looked back at Michael and then trotted after the two women.

“Sis,” Savannah said, “what’s going on with you and Bud? I’m not getting good vibes from you.”

“Nothing. We’re fine,” Brianna lied. And Savannah knew she was lying. She remained quiet.

“It’s just that…” Brianna started.

“What, Sis? What’s wrong?”

Brianna stopped walking—leaned against an old tree stump. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” she said, her eyes welling up with tears. She blotted at them with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

“Ready for what?”

“Ready to settle down.”
She looked up at her sister. “Have I done enough dating? What if Bud isn’t the one?” She buried her face in her hands and said, “Oh Savannah, I don’t want to make a mistake.”

Savannah let out a small chuckle. She chuckled some more and then she threw her head back and laughed out loud. She held her stomach and bent over laughing, her body shaking, her shoulder-length,
blunt-cut blond hair falling over her face.

“What’s so damn funny?” Brianna asked, staring over at her sister through angry eyes.

Lexie sat next to Brianna glancing from one to the other of the women.

Savannah tried to speak, but couldn’t get more than a couple of words out at a time through the uncontrollable laughter.

Brianna pushed away from the stump and the dog jumped back a little. “Really, Savannah, how rude. What’s so funny?” She stomped her foot and said, “Tell me this instant!”

Savannah stood up straight, wiping at her eyes. She nudged her sister aside, and sat down on the tree stump.

“Well?” Brianna said, crossing her arms in front of her.

“Let me catch my breath,” Savannah pleaded.

Brianna stood staring down at Savannah defiantly, arms crossed. “What?” she shouted.

Michael looked up from his project several feet away, smiled, and rolled his head from side to side.
Looks like the sisters are having fun. Gosh, it’s refreshing to see Savannah laughing out loud like that.

“I think I’m having déjà vu,” Savannah finally said, dabbing at her eyes with a wad of tissue.

Brianna gritted her teeth. She was obviously running out of patience. “What do you mean?” she insisted.

“We must be made from the same mold,” she said.

“Stop talking in riddles. What are you saying?”

Savannah glanced over at Michael, lowered her voice a little, and said, “Don’t you remember when I was struggling with the same dilemma—should I commit to Michael or not? Am I ready—am I even capable of a meaningful relationship? Oh, Michael was ready. He knew what he wanted. But I was so confused.” Savannah became more reticent—introspective. And then she looked into her sister’s brown eyes. “I almost ruined my life,
Bri. I had what I always wanted right in the palm of my hand and I almost let it go. I almost walked away.”

Brianna’s face softened. “Why do you think that was?” she asked.

Savannah thought about it for a moment and then said, “I wasn’t able to trust myself.” She cocked her head and looked off into the distance. “Or maybe I didn’t think I deserved all of the joy and love I felt.” She looked up at her sister again from her perch. “I’m not exactly sure, but I can tell you this: I was afraid.”

“Afraid?” she asked. “Afraid of what, do you think?”

“Happiness, disappointment, making a mistake? I’m not sure.”

“Yes, that makes sense,” Brianna said bending down and picking up a piece of straw. “I think fear has something to do with the way I feel.” She stared off toward the orchard,
then said, “But I never thought it might be fear of happiness. That’s a weird concept.”

“What does Bud say about all this?” Savannah asked.

Brianna’s closed her eyes for a moment. Then she looked up, tore the straw in two, and dropped both pieces. “He’s pretty upset.”

“So what have you told him?”

“That I may want to date other people before I settle down.”

“Oh
noooo, Bri. You’ll break his heart.”

“What about
my
heart?” she snapped.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“Savannah, I have to be true to myself. I don’t even know if I’d be happy living on a farm.” She grimaced and glanced off in the distance. “I’ve never lived on a farm. I’m a city girl.”

“Maybe Bud would move with you to the city,” Savannah suggested.

“Yeah, he said that, but would
he
be happy?” She reached out and ran a swatch of Savannah’s hair through her hand; something she used to do as a child when she needed comforting. “Is there a happy medium for the two of us?”

Savannah sat staring down at her mud boots. Finally she looked up and said quietly, “If you have doubts, Sis, now is the time to look at them, that’s for sure. But it seems as though you and Bud have a lot going for you as a couple. You’ve really enjoyed a lot of time together this past year, haven’t you?”

Brianna smiled. “Yes, we’ve had some good times. He’s super thoughtful and attentive. He’s smart and fun. Cripes, he saved my life once. He’s my hero—great lover, kind…only…”

“Only what?
You’ve just described every woman’s dream man,” Savannah said laughing.

“Only am I ready to settle down?” she whined,
slumping her shoulders, dropping her head.

Savannah thought for a few moments. Finally, she said, “Do you have to make that decision now?”

“Bud’s ready to make it. He’s pressuring me.”

“Well, how about this? Let me have Michael talk to Bud—maybe see if he can get him to cool his heels and give you the space to decide when you’re ready…or not.”

Brianna let out a breath. “Oh, that would be great. I think that’s the answer, Sis. Space—that’s what I need. But I’d like Bud to be in that space with me…while I try to sort things out in my mind. Yes!” she said, pumping the air with one arm. “Let’s see if Michael can convey the message I don’t seem to be able to convey to Bud.”