Claws for a Cause (A Klepto Cat Mystery Book 15) (9 page)

“Sounds fun,” Savannah said. “Thank you.”

****

The following day after breakfast, everyone from the photography group met in the hotel lobby to discuss travel to and from the North Shore.

“What a cute outfit,” Shelly said when she noticed Lily’s new whale-print sundress and matching sunhat. She stepped back and took a couple of photographs. “So what are your plans?” she asked Savannah and Michael.

“I think we’ll be real vagabonds today, Hawaiian style,” Michael said.

Savannah nodded and explained, “We’ll go with you all on the bus, if there’s room, and then take off from North Shore for the trip the rest of the way around the island using public transportation.” She looked at Gladys. “You’re up for that, aren’t you, Mom?”

“Sure am,” she said.

“Want to join us, Shelly?” Savannah asked.

“I just might. Sounds like fun.”

Once they were seated on the shuttle bus with the photography group, a man sitting across from Michael and Savannah said rather loudly, “Did any of you have a problem with that island fool yesterday?”

When no one responded, he said, “He darn near scared my wife to death.”

“Do you mean that scary man in the faded shirt who makes threats?” Savannah asked.

“Yes,” the woman sitting next to the man said. “Did he terrorize you, too?”

“He sure did. Glad to find out he was evidently harmless.”

“He is?” asked the small woman whose long blond hair hung in ringlets. “I’m still shaking. I wondered if I should report him to the police or something.”

Michael responded. “We talked to the head of security about him and she indicated she didn’t know what we were talking about.”

“Fat chance,” the man said, loudly. “They’ve gotta know about that idiot, the way he’s running around scaring women. It just ain’t right and I won’t stand for it. I hate being treated like that. If all the natives are like that, I’m outta here and not comin’ back.”

“But Harv,” his companion said, “the other man was so…” she rolled her eyes, “…well, comforting and charming.”

Harv made a face. “Phony baloney. Pam, he just wanted to get into your…pocketbook.”

“So you met Mikala too, did you?” Savannah asked, smiling. “He seems to come right to a woman’s rescue once he sees a damsel in distress.”

“Mikala?” Pam said, looking puzzled. “Oh no, it must be a different guy. This man was beyond handsome and his name is the same as Harv’s—Kalewe for Harvey. Isn’t that a wild coincidence?”

“Wait,” Savannah said, “was he wearing a necklace with a diamond in a small abalone shell?”

“Yeah, that’s the Hawaiian Harvey,” Pam said, excitedly. She swooned. “What a charming man.”

Michael looked knowingly at Savannah. “What a coincidence,” he said, “isn’t it Savannah?”

Sheepishly, she said, “Yeah, I guess it is.”

****

Later that morning, after the group had spent a couple of hours photographing surfers and some of the monstrous waves at the North Shore, the Iveys, Gladys, and Shelly boarded a bus that would transport them the rest of the way around the island.

“This is really something—to be able to see the coastline of the whole island in just a couple of hours,” Savannah said.

“Oh, it’ll take longer than that, with all the stops you’ll want to make along the way,” Gladys said. “In fact, why don’t we get off here and have an ice cream cone at that parlor, shall we?”

“Yes, let’s do,” Savannah said. “Want to, Shelly?”

“Sounds great.” She lowered her voice. “And I’d like to find a restroom.”

“Definitely,” Savanna agreed.

Once the Ivey party and their belongings were off the bus, Michael put the baby in the stroller and they started walking toward a small strip mall. “Ice cream first?” he asked.

Savannah nodded. “As long as the place has a restroom, hopefully with a changing table.”

When the women returned from the restroom, everyone ordered ice cream cones and bottles of water. They were enjoying the treat and chatting about their experiences at the North Shore, when Savannah squinted her eyes, looked around, and said, “I keep hearing something.”

“What?” Michael asked. “Traffic, music, people talking, clattering in the kitchen, the milk shake mixer thing?”

“No, it’s more like a kitten.”

“What?” he said, furrowing his brow. “Are you so homesick for the cats that you’re hearing kittens? Are you seeing kittens, too?”

“No, just hearing one—like it’s underfoot...under the floorboards.” She put her hand on his arm. “Now listen, Michael. Do you hear it?” she asked, trying to peer through the cracks in the rustic floor.

“Hey,” Shelly said, “I think I hear something.”

When Savannah noticed a young man wiping down the table next to them, she caught his attention. “Excuse me, but is that a cat I hear? It sounds like it’s under the floor.”

“Yeah, a stray. We think it’s hurt.” He shrugged. “My boss is afraid it’s just going to die under there and stink up the place.”

“And no one has tried to help the poor thing?” she asked. “It sounds like it’s in distress.”

“No, we don’t feed it. We want it to just go away.” With that, the boy walked back behind the counter.

“Are you finished?” Savannah asked the others. When everyone nodded and began to gather up their trash and water bottles, she stood and led the group out through the front door.

“Where are you going?” Michael asked, when he saw her determinedly walk away.

“To see if I can find that cat,” she said, disappearing behind the small building. When Michael caught up with her, she said, “I’m looking for a crawl hole.”

“Savannah, really?”

“Oh yes. Didn’t you hear that kid? The cat’s hurt. We’ve got to see if we can help. Look, here’s a box we can put him in. Michael, why don’t you start searching the Internet for a cat- rescue shelter. Surely, they have them here.”

“Look,” Shelly said, pointing, “there’s a hole.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how

you’re going to get it to come out. Surely you’re not going to crawl under there, are you?”

Savannah surveyed the situation. “I sure hope not. It must have rained over here recently,” she observed. “Do you see a newspaper or something I can use to keep from getting muddy?” Within a few minutes, the two women had located a piece of cardboard. Savannah placed it next to the opening, and knelt on it. “Kitty, kitty?” she called into the space. “Here, kitty.”

Suddenly, she heard a woman’s voice. “What’re ya doin’?”

Savannah glanced up to see a rotund island woman of about eighty wearing a blue muumuu in an orange hibiscus print. “We want to take a look at the cat we hear under there. We think he’s hurt.”

“Yeah, a dog got ‘im. He’s been under there yowling ever since.”

“And no one has bothered to help him?”

The woman stared at Savannah. “Help him do what?” she asked.

“To heal. Take care of his wounds.”

“Look, lady, I don’t know where you come from—some hoity-toity city where cats are pampered, maybe—but here, cats are a dime a dozen. They’re only worth whatever rats they can kill. A sick cat’s worthless,” she said, disappearing between two buildings.

Hearing this, Michael urged, “Come on, Savannah. Let’s not interfere with their culture.”

She turned and glared at her husband. “Michael, I can’t believe you said that. You took an oath, remember? Now how about if you all stand back and I’ll see if the cat will come out.”

“It’s no use, hon,” Michael said, after Savannah had spent several minutes attempting to lure the cat out.

“I can see it in there, Michael. It wants to come out, but it’s frightened.” She thought for a moment, then said, “Bring Lily here. It looks young. Kittens and puppies tend to like babies. Maybe it will come to her.”

“And scratch her?” Michael said. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I just want it to get close enough that I can pick it up.”

“And get yourself all clawed up by a sick cat?”

“Give me that light blanket we brought; maybe I can wrap him in it.”

“Savannah, Savannah,” Michael said with a sigh. He then walked over to the crawl hole with Lily, knelt down, and peered in. He pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket and began shining it into the space.

“Oh, I forgot about your flashlight. Good idea,” Savannah said, holding onto Lily while Michael crouched at the opening.

“There it is. Good Lord, he’s small…and handsome, too.”

“What’s he doing?” she asked.

“Just staring at me with wide eyes. Bring Lily here.” Once he had hold of the toddler, he said, “See the kitty? Say hi kitty. There’s a kitty in there,” he said, pointing.

Lily stooped and peered into the hole. “Ki-ki,” she said, excitedly. “Ki-ki.”

“Yes, talk to the kitty, punkin’,” he coaxed.

“Ki-ki. Ki-ki,” she repeated.

“He’s coming this way,” Michael announced quietly. “Come on, little one,” he urged. He then said, “Got him.”

Savannah picked up Lily and watched as Michael cradled the kitten in his arms. “He is a cute little thing,” she said. “Looks like Rags, only he’s black and white and has long fur. Look at those markings on his face. He’s really cute.”

“…and thin. He isn’t getting much to eat.” Michael examined the kitten briefly and announced, “He has an ugly abscess going on there. I’m surprised he’s so bright-eyed. But he does need medical attention.”

“So did you find a listing for a rescue shelter on the island?” Savannah asked.

“Yeah, in Honolulu. We’ll have to take the bus back into town, unless…”

“Unless what?” Shelly asked.

“Maybe there’s a veterinarian around here.”

“First let’s see if he wants some water,” Savannah said. She looked around for a vessel in which to pour some water from her bottle. “Ah, a paper cup.” She picked it up and tore the top half off in order to make a bowl, then poured water into it. “Show him the water, Michael.”

“Boy, is he thirsty,” he watched the kitten lap it up. “Poor little thing.”

“He’s probably hungry, too,” Shelly said. “I can find something for him to eat. There’s a grocery store across the way.”

Savannah nodded. “Good idea,” she said, while placing Lily in her stroller. “I’ll check for a veterinarian.” Pulling her phone out, she glanced around. “Where are we, anyway?”

Just then Gladys noticed a couple who looked like natives walking with a small dog. She approached them. “Where’s the closest veterinarian?” she asked. When their directions become a little complicated, she looked for something to write on, finally finding a small flyer that had blown off a bulletin board. After jotting down the information, she returned to the group. “Oh, look at that little thing gobble up its lunch,” she remarked, smiling down at the kitten.

“Yeah, he’s been food-deprived for a while,” Michael said. He then asked her, “What did you find out?”

“Okay, I think I have it. There’s a vet about fifteen miles down the road that way,” she pointed. “We hop back on the bus and get off when we see the big sign with the walrus advertising loco moco.” When Savannah and Michael looked puzzled, she added, “They said we can’t miss it. The vet’s office is in that small hamlet.”

“Okay, let’s get over to the bus stop, then,” Savannah said. “Michael, want to put him in the box?”

“Let’s see if we can find a smaller box to carry with us in case we need it, but for now he seems okay being held.”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t bolt when he sees the big bus coming,” Shelly said.

Michael thought about what she’d said. “Yeah, maybe I should wrap him in the baby’s blanket so he’ll feel more secure.”

“And maybe we won’t get kicked off the bus for having a cat,” Gladys said.

Shelly chuckled. “I don’t think that would happen. I saw a man carry on two chickens in a cage at the last stop. Did you see that?”

Savannah nodded. “Yeah, but it appears cats are low on the totem pole of revered animals around here.”

“Why do you think that?” Shelly asked.

Michael started to explain, “Well, the folks around here couldn’t care less about this cat in distress, for one thing. For another, I’ve read about some of the customs carried on in this culture. They still have a problem here with people who…”

“Never mind, Michael,” Savannah said.

“What?” Gladys and Shelly asked.

Savannah shook her head. “You don’t want to know. Oh, here’s the bus. Everyone ready?”

****

Nearly thirty minutes later, Gladys pointed out the bus window. “There’s the walrus. We get off here.”

“Now where’s the veterinarian?” Michael asked when everyone had stepped off the bus.

“How’s he doing?” Savannah asked, lifting the blanket from the kitten’s face.

Michael smiled. “Very relaxed.”

“He’s asleep,” she observed. “Poor thing. He’s so tired, he’s even sleeping in that weird position. He’s really very cute.”

“There!” Shelly shouted. “I see a small sign with an arrow. See,
Animal Entrance
. That must be the veterinarian’s office.”

As the group moved toward the sign, then followed the arrow, they came to a small building behind a row of shops. At the rear of the building was a fenced area where a variety of animals roamed.

“Looks like a petting zoo,” Gladys said. “There are goats, pigs, lots of chickens, a burro, ponies. What’s that thing?” she asked, pointing. “…a llama?”

“Hello,” Michael called. “Anyone here?”

“Howdy,” came a voice from behind them.

They turned to see a medium-height bespectacled man wearing a Giants team t-shirt, board shorts, and rubber sandals. His black hair was gathered into a braid that hung down the middle of his back.

“Hello,” Michael said. “Are you the veterinarian?”

“You might say that,” the man quipped. “Whatcha got there?”

“An injured kitten,” Michael said. “We found him abandoned about fifteen miles back. Lured him out from under a building and brought him here on the bus.”

“Well, come on in; let’s take a look.”

“He has an abscess. Someone told us a dog roughed him up.”

The man cleaned a stainless steel table, washed his hands, put on a lab coat, and reached for the kitten. “The name’s Kona, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m Michael; this is my wife, Savannah, her mother, Gladys and our friend, Shelly. Our daughter’s asleep in the stroller.”