Cat-Eye Witness (A Klepto Cat Mystery) (19 page)

“Yes. It’s a wonder what a little food will do.” Savannah stretched, reached over and began rubbing the back of Michael’s neck. Suddenly, she lurched forward in a panic. “What was that?” she whispered.

“What?”

“I saw something—someone—move in the shadows.”

“Probably an animal. Oh wait! I see him—there he goes!” Michael slammed the car into park, and quickly opened the door, jumping out and taking chase.

“No, Michael, No!” Savannah called after him.

He stopped when he reached the end of the driveway and began walking back toward the house. Savannah waited for him next to the car, her heart pounding hard in her chest. “Did you see who it was?” she asked almost breathlessly.

“No, he was dressed all in black.” Michael was breathing hard. He doubled over and rested his hands on his knees. After a few moments, he straightened up and continued, “I think he took off in a car. I heard a car door slam and saw a streak of orange as it sped away.” He thought for a moment and then said, “Sounded like a sports car.” Suddenly, he frowned and started toward the house. “Come on, we’d better go in and check on things.”

“The door’s still locked. I guess it wasn’t a breakin—unless…” Michael started. The couple rushed in and began turning on lights. “Well, nothing seems out of order, does it?” he asked.

“Not that I can tell,” Savannah said hesitantly. Suddenly, her body became rigid. She glanced frantically around the room. “Wait! Where’s Rags?” She dashed into the bedroom where he’d been hanging out lately. “Rags…Rags, where are you, boy?”

“Here he is!” Michael called to Savannah. And then she heard him shout, “Oh God! What’s this? No, Rags! No!!”

Savannah was sure she felt her heart stop. She rushed toward the sound of Michael’s voice and stopped short at the doorway to the kitchen. There on the floor in front of her was Rags sniffing a chunk of what looked like ground meat. Before she could react, Michael grabbed the meat and tossed it into the kitchen sink. He turned quickly to face Savannah, terror in his eyes. “It’s probably poisoned!” he said under his breath.

“Did he eat any?” she shouted; her voice shrill.

“I don’t think so, honey. It doesn’t look like it, what do you think?”

She walked over to the sink and looked down at the clump of meat. “No, it doesn’t look like it was touched.” She turned toward the cat who sat staring up at them. “He isn’t cleaning himself. No, I don’t think he ate any.” She glanced around the room, panic welling up inside her. “How did it get in here? Where did it come from?”

“There.” Savannah looked in the direction Michael pointed. “It came through the window on the kitchen door,” he said. “I’ll go get something to cover that.”

With shaking hands, Savannah reached for her cell phone. “I’m calling the detective.” Before punching in the numbers, she said, “Michael, wash your hands! Wash your hands, you touched that meat.”

“Oh yeah,” he muttered as he walked back over to the sink. He looked down at the meat glob in the left side of the double sink and moved the high-arch spigot to the right. He then poured dish soap on his hands and gave them a good scrubbing.

Savannah put her phone up to her ear. “Sledge here: Leave a message at the tone.”

“Detective, this is Savannah Jordan. I know it’s late.” She couldn’t keep her voice from quivering. “But we just got home and found that someone has given our cat poisoned meat—well, we assume it’s poisoned. They threw it through the window into the house.” She paused. “We saw someone running away. Please call.” She hung up and let her arm fall limp at her side. “This is frightening. Someone’s after Rags because they think he’s a witness.” She stomped her foot and shook her head. “Damn! Now I wish I’d never had that psychic come here.”

“You don’t mean that, honey. Look how much better Rags is doing since she…uh…talked to him,” he soothed. “I’m not sure I believe in that type of thing. But you have to admit, he has calmed down.”

“Yes, but now his life’s in danger…” she said, sobbing softly. Then she announced, “Oh, it’s my phone.” She picked it up, looked at the screen and said, “It’s the detective.” She took a deep breath. “Hello Detective.”

“Ms. Jordan. I’m sorry to hear about the assault on your cat.” He hesitated. “How is he…the cat?”

She glanced over at Rags, who was lapping from his water bowl. “He seems okay. We don’t think he ate any.”

“Where’s the meat now?”

“In my kitchen sink. Will you have it analyzed?”

“Yes, I’ll send someone over to get it right now.”

“Thank you. And Detective, Michael is pretty sure he saw the guy get into a small car—like a sports car—and speed off.”

“Hmmm. Interesting,” Sledge said. He asked, “Can I speak to Dr. Ivey?”

“Michael, he wants to talk to you,” Savannah said. She walked over to where he was nailing a piece of plywood across the broken window and handed him the phone. She then reached down and scooped Rags up in her arms, carrying him into the living room. After sitting down with him on her lap, she began petting him. He seemed to enjoy the attention, but he wasn’t ready to settle down. Rather than curling up on his favorite person’s lap, he stood on her legs and pushed his head into her hands as she petted him and scratched the sides of his neck. She cupped his face in her hands and stared into his eyes. “Rags, you are a good boy. If anything happened to you, I…” She then wrapped her arms around his large body and buried her face into his fur.

Michael could hear her muted sobs when he walked into the room. He moved around to the front of the sofa and sat down beside her and Rags. Taking one of her hands in his, he said, “Savannah, I want you and Rags to come over and stay with me for a few days, at least. Will you do that? Or go over to your aunt’s. I just can’t stand the thought of you being here with all that’s going on.”

***

Less than an hour later: “Hey, there’s a burnt-orange Corvette. Let’s pull it over.”

One of the deputies walked up to the driver’s side window. He used his flashlight to scan the car’s interior. “Hello, sir. Driver’s license and registration, please.”

“What did I do? I didn’t do nothin’. What do you want?”

“Just your driver’s license and registration, sir.”

The driver—the only occupant in the car—pulled his license from his wallet and rummaged through the glove box until he came up with the registration.

The deputy looked it over and said, “Thank you, Mr. Salgado. Were you driving this car earlier this evening?”

“Uh…”

“Well, were you or weren’t you?”

Jesse Salgado glanced from one to the other of the deputies. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Did you pick someone up out near Cranberry Way?”

He squirmed in his seat—looked down at his lap. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

“He was dressed all in black.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”

“Come on, dude, it was only forty minutes ago. Are you too drugged up to remember that long? Do you want to step out of the car?”

“No man, I think I did pick someone up. Just saw him walkin’—needed a ride. Didn’t know the guy, man.”

“What’s his name?”

“Um, like I said, I don’t really know the guy. Just gave him a ride into town.”

“Where did you drop him?”

“Don’t remember—somewhere in town.”

“Hey Jeff,” the officer said to his partner, “maybe we should have this guy drug-tested.”

“No. I ain’t doin’ no drugs.”

“We could search his car…”

“Okay, okay. What do you two dudes want?”

“What was his name and where did you drop him?”

“Damon something-or-other. I left him off down by Club Briar. That’s it, man. Can I go now?”

“Yeah. But if this information doesn’t pan out, we’re coming after you.”

“Got it, man.”

***

The next morning, Savannah drove home from Michael’s. She wanted to drop Rags at the house and pick up a few things for work. She had just set the cat’s breakfast on his placemat when her cell phone rang.

“Savannah, they’ve got Damon in jail.”

“What?”

“They picked him up last night. I guess they think he tried to poison your cat. Now why would he do that? I don’t understand. What’s going on, Savannah?”

“It was Damon? Oh, I’m so sorry, Iris.”

“Well, I’m sorry if he tried to hurt Rags. Is Rags okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine. We got home just in time. So why do they think Damon did this?”

“I don’t know,” she said, dragging out each word. “That woman deputy and her sidekick were here with a warrant and took things out of his room. They wouldn’t tell me much.”

“So you haven’t talked to Damon?” Savannah asked.

“No. Not yet. I’m not ready to face his problems—I have so many of my own.” She groaned. “Gads, Savannah, what has happened to my tidy little life? Why is everyone suddenly against me? Everything is upside down. I can’t make it through a day without more bad news. What have I done to deserve this?”

“I don’t know, Iris. Not much makes sense these days, that’s for sure.”

“Oh listen to me go on like I’m the only one who has been affected by all of this. How are you, hon…really? Is everything okay?”

“I think so—Rags and I spent the night at Michael’s last night. I’m home now, getting ready to go to the clinic. I guess Rags is no longer in danger.” She twisted her watch around on her arm so she could see it. “Listen, Iris, I have to scoot. I need to go in early this morning because Charlotte’s coming over after work today. Take care, will you?”

***

“Charlotte, thank you for coming to see Rags. He has been kinda sad, lately,” Savannah said as she ushered the young girl inside later that day.

“Why?” she asked.

“Maybe he misses you.” Savannah reached over and gently squeezed her shoulder.”

I mith him, too,” she said. “Where ith he?”

“Oh here he comes. He heard your voice.”

“Hi Ragth,” the girl said as she walked toward him. She looked back at Savannah and asked, “Can he go outthide today?”

“Sweetie, why don’t you play with him in the house for a while? We’ll go outside later. I have some things to do inside first. Okay?”

“Yeth, come on Ragth. Leth go get your toyth.”

An hour later, Charlotte found Savannah in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on a casserole. “Thavannah,” she said with her lisp, “Momth here. Can we go outhide now?”

“Sure, I’ll bring out some lemonade for us.”

Just then, she heard another voice. “Hi Savannah, I hope you don’t mind Charlotte letting me in.”

“Of course not, Reba. Can you stay for a visit? I don’t think Charlotte’s finished playing with Rags.”

“Oh, she’s never finished playing with a cat. Just wish we could have one for her. Can you believe that someone like Charlotte would be born into a family where there are cat allergies?”

“That is a sad situation,” Savannah said as she placed three glasses of lemonade on a tray and led the way out the kitchen door onto the porch. “But at least she gets her cat fix fairly often—over here, at Max and Aunt Marg’s cattery, and even across town at Dora’s place. She is one lucky girl to have so many cats in her life.”

Charlotte looked up from where she sat with Rags on the grass and smiled.

“Speaking of allergies, where is little Ruby?”

“Having a play-date next door.” Reba looked at her watch. “My neighbor is bringing the girls to our house for dinner later—so I’ll have to watch the time.”

Savannah smiled. She called out to Charlotte, “Here’s your lemonade, when you’re ready.”

“Thankth.”

Savannah stopped and stared over at Charlotte and Rags for a moment. “What’s that black piece of cloth you’re playing with, sweetie?”

“Ith Ragth. It wath in hith toy boxth. Ith a thcarf,” she said holding it up.

Savannah walked over to take a closer look at it. She took it from the girl. “I haven’t seen it before.”

“Do you suppose it belongs to someone who was here at the fundraiser?” Reba asked.

“Yeth, it did,” Charlotte responded. “I thaw a man with it around hith head.”

“She does have an amazing memory for detail,” Reba said.

“I’ve noticed. It’s pretty incredible,” Savannah agreed. She then turned toward the girl. “Charlotte, sweetie, would you go get another toy for Rags. I’d like to hold onto this scarf and maybe find out who it belongs to. He likes that feather toy. Bring that down.”

“Okay. Come on Ragth, you help me get it.” The two women smiled as they watched Charlotte dash into the house with the cat scurrying along behind her.

“I’m wondering if this belonged to the killer,” Savannah said in a whisper.

“Egads, could be,” Reba agreed. “I read in the paper about Rags being a witness. That’s pretty cool, actually. Maybe he will let the cat out of the bag.” Both women laughed heartily at Reba’s unintentional pun.

***

“Oh hi, Michael. How did the afternoon at the clinic go?” Savannah asked as she saw him walking into the kitchen.

“Pretty good. Nothing to complain about,” he said.

“Wouldn’t do any good to complain, anyway,” the couple said in unison. They laughed.

“What’s this?” Michael asked as he peered into the plastic bag Savannah had left on the table.

“Not sure. Charlotte found it in Rags’s toy box. I haven’t seen it before and wondered if it might be a clue to the murder.” She added, “Charlotte said she saw someone wearing it that day.”

She turned toward the counter and scooped a handful of chopped tomatoes into the salad she was making. Michael walked up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, “You’re sure getting to be some little investigator, aren’t you, Savannah Sleuth?” He moved her hair aside, kissed the back of her neck, and asked, “Have you told the detective about it?”

“Yes. He’s coming by sometime this evening to pick it up. I was trying to get dinner going and have that out of the way.” She grabbed a dish towel, wiped her hands and turned to face her fiancé. “And how are you?” She sprinkled kisses over Michael’s handsome face and along the side of his neck.

He hunched his shoulders a little. “Ooooooh, that tickles.”

“Want me to stop?”

“Heck no.” After a few seconds, he glanced across the room and said, “I see the window guy came. Good. How many times has that kitchen window needed to be repaired this year?”