Catnapped (A Klepto Cat Mystery) (4 page)

The two women pulled back from their conversation while Iris placed their drinks in front of them. The waitress then took a pencil from her dyed red hair and wrote down their orders.

When Iris left, Margaret looked over at her niece.
Dare I talk to her about this? She already thinks I’m a bit over the edge.

“Come on, Auntie, I’m going to find out one way or another. What’s going on?” Savannah prodded.

After stirring a little cream into her coffee and glancing around the room to her left, Margaret took a swig, put the cup down and leaned forward toward her niece. “We have reason to believe that someone is snatching cats.”

“What cats?” Savannah asked, way too curious to feign disinterest.

Margaret turned in her seat and looked around the restaurant. After making a mental note of who was there, she settled back down in the booth and said, “Let’s eat and then I’ll take you for a drive, and show you what’s going on.”

“How about if I take you, since you can’t drive right now?” Savannah reminded.

“Yeah, yeah. You drive. Whatever…”

Savannah relaxed in the plastic booth and scanned the room with her eyes. Yes, she remembered this place. She felt so grown up when she’d come here for lunch with her dad. “Isn’t this where we had your surprise birthday party a few years ago, Auntie?”

“Yeah, some surprise, all right—for you and your mother. That’ll teach you to try second-guessing me. Gladys may have a predictable lifestyle, but that isn’t me,” Margaret blurted.

Savannah remembered all too well traveling the 500 miles north with her mother and being stood up. Unbeknownst to them, Aunt Margaret had chosen that week to take a cruise with an eligible bachelor she had met at a ballroom-dancing class.

Savannah’s eyes rested again on her aunt.
Yes, she is an adventurer—always was and always will be, no doubt
, she thought with a smile. The only one who came close to inheriting Margaret’s penchant for adventure was Savannah’s own younger sister. Brianna lived on the edge as much as any med student might. She was a fun-loving, energetic young woman. She didn’t just give lip service to causes, she got out there and worked toward what she believed in at the moment. She’d even been arrested a few times, which didn’t sit well with their mother. Aunt Margaret, though, snuck in a high-five and a “you go, girl,” when she’d hear about one of Brianna’s escapades. Margaret had even tried to convince her less Bohemian sister to let Brianna follow her heart and hitchhike through Europe one year, staying in backpackers’ hostels. Savannah remembered her aunt saying, “How do you expect this girl to sow her wild oats before marriage if she continues to live under your thumb? And believe me, this girl has wild oats to sow.”

Savannah usually enjoyed watching her aunt intervene on behalf of herself and her sister. Her mom could be overprotective, even when the girls became of age—especially after their dad passed away. Aunt Margaret could always suggest a more interesting alternative to Gladys’s typically rigid perspective.

Savannah, although certainly moved by conflicts between good and evil and right and wrong, generally weighed the consequences of her actions with a more precise scale than her younger sister did. Savannah was known to snatch kittens from bullies more than once, fully prepared to defend a kitten to the end. She intervened when she noticed a neighbor, friend, or coworker in need. But she wasn’t generally the sort to join vigilante groups or to challenge legal boundaries in order to make a statement.
Maybe I just haven’t been presented with a strong enough reason to challenge boundaries,
she thought.

***

Looks like the bitch is gone somewhere
. He didn’t see evidence that the gardener was there, either, so he decided to pull into the driveway and leave another message. He stopped in front of the large house and set the parking brake. Without turning off the key, he stepped out of the driver’s side door, scanned the property with his deep-set eyes, and thought to himself,
It’s mine. All mine. Soon. Very soon.
He then looked down at the object in his hand, raised it over his right shoulder, and threw it with all his might toward the house. Upon hearing the crack and clatter of glass breaking, he glanced around and then quickly slipped back into the vehicle. He started to leave, when something caught his eye.
What’s that in the upstairs window?
he wondered.
A cat! A grey-and-white cat. Now there’s an opportunity I didn’t expect to come by.
He opened the truck door and started to step out, but changed his mind.
No, not now, next time. Yes, that’ll be the next cat to disappear,
he thought, a sinister smile playing on his lips.

***

“That was a filling breakfast,” Savannah remarked while helping her aunt settle into the passenger seat of Margaret’s Jeep Liberty. “Where are we going now?”

“Toward the old dump,” Margaret responded without inflection. “Do you remember how to get there?”

“Sure,” Savannah said as she slid into the driver’s seat. “That’s where Dad used to take me scavenging. Brianna and I found all sorts of neat things out there.”

Margaret wrinkled up her nose. “What kind of things?”

“Everything you can imagine—hair barrettes, pencils, wheels off toy cars, marbles, sun glasses—I used to love finding sun glasses cause I was always losing mine.” She glanced over at her aunt, saying, “Once I found a pipe like the one old Mr. Forster used to smoke.”

“You remember Grandpa’s pipe? You were pretty young when he passed,” Margaret calculated.

“I was eleven when he died. And that pipe of his used to fascinate me—that, and the fact that he was always looking for his eyeglasses. He’d say, ‘Hey, Skiddle, have you seen my specs?’ Remember how he called me Skiddle and Brianna was Doodlebug? The funny thing is, his glasses were always right there on top of his head.”

The two women laughed.

Savannah glanced over at her aunt, hesitated for a moment and then started, “Auntie, about his death, did they ever determine…?”

“Here. Turn right here—we’re going up on that knoll,” Margaret said with the giddiness of a teenager on her way to a weekend party.

“Oh, those houses down there are new,” Savannah remarked.

“Yes. Now stop up there near that brush.”

Savannah looked around at their rather barren surroundings and asked, “Why are you whispering? There’s no one up here.”

“Just pull over,” Margaret instructed. “I think we have a good enough view.” She leaned forward and reached under her seat. “Where are those things?”

“What things? What are we doing out here?” Savannah wanted to know.

“Is there a pair of binoculars under your seat?”

Savannah felt around under her seat and pulled out a fairly large pair of Bushnells. A puzzled look on her face, she cocked her head slightly and asked, “What are we going to do with these? Spy on people?” She chuckled as she handed them over to her aunt.

“We sure are.” Margaret held the glasses up to her eyes and began scanning the area. After a few seconds, she put them down and reached over to the console, pushing the window buttons for the driver’s and passenger’s side windows until they were all the way down. “Go ahead and shut off the engine, would you, Vannie?” She then turned toward her niece and said, “We believe that someone is coming out to these new tract areas and picking up cats. Not strays or ferals, but people’s pets.”
Savannah’s expression changed to one of concern. “Oh, that’s what Max mentioned this morning. That’s awful. What are they doing with them?”

“We don’t know,” she said staring out across the terrain. “The cats are just disappearing without a trace.”

Savannah looked around. “Maybe it’s coyotes—this is kind of a wilderness area.”

“We don’t think so. There are quite a few cats missing now and no one has seen a coyote near here recently. Anyway, the cats seem to be going missing during the day—early morning and late in the afternoon. All these cats stay in at night.” She looked over at her niece before continuing, “We’re having an emergency meeting of the HCA tomorrow morning at my house. We hope some of the residents have something new to report that will help us figure out what’s going on.”

“HCA?” Savannah queried.

“Hammond Cat Alliance,” Margaret explained, as she raised the glasses to her eyes again.

“You’ve formed an alliance for cats? That’s cool.” Savannah smiled. She then took on a more somber demeanor. “So you think someone is taking the cats?” She thought for a moment and then suggested, “Could be some deranged professor out at the college collecting cats for the science lab. I knew a few odd ones at vet school.”

Margaret let the binoculars drop to her lap. “Who knows? There are a lot of theories out there—witchcraft rituals, cat haters in the neighborhood…” She gazed out over the housing tract and shook her head slowly from side to side.

“Are the police involved?”

Margaret turned quickly toward her niece. “Pshaw, Vannie. You know as well as I do that, while the police may respond to a stolen-dog call, the only thing they’re apt to help with when it comes to a cat is getting it out of a tree. And then they call the fire department.”

“Really?” Savannah asked with interest. “Cats are being stolen and the cops won’t do anything?”

Margaret put the binoculars back up to her eyes and scanned the streets below. “We’re not sure they’re being stolen, yet. That’s why we have surveillance going on at all hours of the day. Even if we do find out that someone’s stealing the cats and who’s doing it, we still may have to take things into our own hands.”

Savannah looked confused. “Why?” she asked. Before Margaret could answer, her niece straightened up and stared into the rearview mirror. “Oh, Auntie, we have company. The sheriff’s here.”

“Drats!” Margaret said as she quickly stuffed the Bushnells under her seat. She watched through the right side mirror as the deputy walked up to her open window.

“Good morning, ladies,” he greeted. “Well, Maggie, I thought this was your car. Haven’t seen you since the dance last month.” He nodded toward Savannah. “Hello Miss.” Turning his attention back to Margaret, he said, “What are you doing out here? Is everything okay?”

She smiled at the officer. “Yeah, Jim, we’re just enjoying the scenery. You see, my niece here, Savannah, used to live in Hammond. Her dad ran Jordan’s Farm Equipment for years. I’m showing her some of the new tracts. Things haven’t changed much over time, but enough so as a hometown girl would notice.”

He looked out over the valley of homes, rubbed his chin and, attempting to make eye contact with Margaret, said, “That’s where the cats have come up missing, isn’t it?”

She squirmed a little in her seat and looked away. “Now, Jim, you know we’ve gotta get to the bottom of this. Someone may be hurting cats. There
is
a law against cruelty to animals, you know.”

“Sure I know, and I like cats as much as the next guy, but it isn’t our job to investigate situations like this—not until we have some real evidence. This should be turned over to the animal humane league. Do you know what I mean, Maggie?” he asked. She nodded and looked down. The deputy continued, “We don’t know what we’re dealing with here and I don’t want you or any other members of your group to get hurt.”

He stared at his feet for a few moments and then said, “Are you aware that there’s a cat hoarder over west of the interstate?”

Margaret’s demeanor gained energy. “No, I didn’t. What’s her name?”

“Oh, I think you can get that information on your own—just ask at the nearest pet supply store.”

She then looked up at him apprehensively and asked, “There isn’t any dog fighting going on, is there?”

“Not anymore,” he said with a hint of satisfaction. He then rapped on the door frame twice, saying, “Well, be safe, ladies. Nice to meet you, Savannah.” He started to turn away and then changed his mind. “Maggie, I understand you broke your foot. Sorry to hear about that. I guess we won’t see you at the dance this weekend.”

“Oh don’t be surprised. How else will I snag my niece a beau if I don’t take her out dancing?” she said, obviously amused at the idea.

“Auntie Marg!” Savannah scolded.

Jim laughed and then his tone turned serious. “Maggie, I heard there might have been foul play with your injury. Is that right?”

Margaret glanced quickly in her niece’s direction and then looked down at the floorboards. “Oh that’s just one of those rumors. I’m sure it was strictly an accident.”

The deputy stared over at Margaret for a few moments and then said, “Well, you call me if anything else suspicious happens. Will you do that?”

“Sure will. See you at the dance, Jim. Thanks,” Margaret said as he walked away.

Once she saw the deputy enter his car, Savannah turned toward her aunt and looked intently at her. “Suspicious? Foul play? Auntie, what’s going on?”

“We’ll talk about it later, Vannie,” she said, speaking rapidly now. “Come one, girl, let’s head over to the strip mall on the other side of the interstate.”

***

The two women found a clerk stacking forty-pound bags of kitty litter on a shelf in the back of Wayne’s Pet Supply. Leaning on her crutches, her casted foot bent up behind her, Margaret said, “Hello. I’m looking for a friend of mine—only I can’t recall her name—you know how it is when you get older and rattled,” she feigned to the twenty-something employee. “She has cats—lots of them—and she told me she lives out this direction; I just can’t remember the street name.”

Savannah shot a slightly disgusted look at Margaret, thinking,
Auntie, you can do better than that. You aren’t anywhere near old enough to be that confused.

The slender young man thought for a second before picking up another bag of litter. He plopped it on the stack, then looked over at Margaret. “Do you mean Ms. Lipton? Comes in here all the time. She has lots of cats.” He tugged on the top of the bag to straighten it. “She must have twenty or thirty of them. She lives over on Birch. I make deliveries to her house sometimes.” He removed one glove and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Can’t exactly tell you the number, but it’s East Birch.”