Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 04 - Undercover Cat (20 page)

Just then, Dolly re-appeared. She stopped in the doorway between the dining room and living room and sat down, staring wide-eyed over at Rags. Suddenly, she stood up, arched her back, fluffed out her feathery tail and began sideways hopping toward Rags on all fours.

“She looks like a piece of popcorn in a hot skillet,” Damon said laughing out loud. Everyone joined him in the laughter.

They watched as the fluffy kitten jumped on
Rags’s tail in full attack mode. When he pulled it from her grasp, she danced around him and then leaped onto his back, sliding down again to the floor. Rags rolled over and began patting at the kitten playfully. Dolly took a few steps back and then, flattening her ears, she dove toward Rags grabbing him with her front paws around his neck and biting at him ferociously.

Damon’s smile faded. He looked over at the others. “Is she mad?” he asked.

“Naw, that’s the way kittens play,” Colbi said. “Good thing Rags is a good sport.”

“What a crack-up,” Damon said, now laughing. “I’ve never watched cats play like that before.”

Just then, Rags stood up and ran up the stairs. Dolly appeared stunned for a moment, looked around, and then sprinted quickly after him.

It took a moment for everyone to stop laughing and return their attention to Craig. When they did, he asked Damon and
Colbi, “So did you two hear anything last night?”

She shook her head.

Damon said, “No, what happened?”

“Well, there was a sighting last night. The officer thought he saw someone lurking out near the horse corral.”

Damon could see that Colbi was upset. He scooted the ottoman over next to the arm of her chair, sat down, and put his hand on hers. She grasped his tightly. “Who was it, Craig?” he asked.

“Well, he got away, but they did get a look at him and he left this behind.” Craig reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out something dangling from a fine gold chain.

“Oh my Gosh,” Colbi said. She stood and walked over to take a closer look. “It’s my locket.” She took it from Craig, held it to her chest, and began to cry. Damon moved to her side and put his arm around her. Once she was able to take a breath, she said through sobs, “This is my reminder that I’m an orphan.” She opened the locket and looked at the photos of her mother and her father. She closed it and held it to her again. She asked apprehensively, “Where did you find this?”

“
Colbi, where was it the last time you saw it?” Craig asked.

“In my purse.
I’d put it in there because the clasp kept coming loose and I wanted to have it fixed before wearing it again.” She sniffled and took a ragged breath. “They took my purse and my laptop, my ID…everything.”

She looked Craig in the eyes again. “Where did you find it?”

“Well, as I said, the officer thought he saw something or someone out there last night. I warned him about the wild animals coming around because of that crazy woman feeding them, so he was watching for all manner of life—human and animal. When he saw something move, he pulled his gun and watched to see what might emerge. What happened next was kind of eerie.”

All eyes were on Craig.

Suddenly, Savannah shouted, “Wait! Gotta pee. Can you hold up until I get back?”

Now all eyes were on Savannah as she quickly stood and rushed down the hallway, disappearing into the master bedroom.

“She does that a lot, these days,” Michael explained quietly. “Comes with being pregnant, I’m told.”

Savannah returned promptly, sat down next to Michael and said, “Okay, I’m ready.”

A few chuckles were heard.

Craig continued, “Okay, so the officer is watching, right?
Alls he sees is something black, sort of flapping and moving around in the shadows. He can’t tell what it is, so he just stays still and watches with his gun drawn. Pretty soon the image is gone. He figures it has left the property—made a get-a-way. But how? Where did it go? He decided to mosey over to where he’d seen it. He crouches and moves in that direction, gun in hand, concentrating on the area where he’d seen the figure. He is almost to the spot when he hears something behind him. He turns and sees a large black-cloaked image over near the porch. Before the officer could react, this guy made his escape in a dang golf cart—you know—one of those battery-operated things that can sneak up on you?”

“Good lord,” Michael said.

“But that’s not the clincher,” Craig said. “The officer swears he saw a coyote jump into the thing with the cloaked figure as he drove off.”

“A coyote?”
Savannah said.

“Yeah, that’s what he said. And when he checked around the area where he saw the guy, he found this necklace hanging on the porch railing out there.” He took a breath and looked around the room. “Oh, and he said it appeared that the guy in the cloak was carrying some sort of cane or walking stick, although he didn’t see him using it when he raced toward the golf cart.”

When Michael saw Savannah gently rub her baby belly, he knew what she was thinking. She was in full mama-bear mode—frightened to death for their baby and ready to do anything to protect their child. He said to Craig, “You don’t see many golf carts around, so it shouldn’t be hard to trace one to this guy, do you think?”

Craig shifted in his chair. “Well, the thing is, we did trace it. Got a call from the golf course across the way; they had one stolen last night. It was found five miles down the highway in a ditch, pretty smashed up. We’ve impounded what’s left of it, and we’re going over it with the proverbial fine-tooth comb. From what I hear, they even found some sort of animal fur in the cart. But there are no signs of human or coyote and no blood around anywhere.”

“Yeah, they probably just ditched it,” Damon said. He laughed. “I mean, literally—ran it into a ditch and took off in another vehicle.”

“Or they live or are staying in that area,” Michael said.

“Hey, you guys are good—been taking lessons from your cat?” Craig laughed. “We’re covering all of those possible leads and clues. Hope to come up with something and soon.”

“Yes, soon,”
Colbi said. “I don’t know how much more of this I can stand.”

“Good morning,” Savannah said as she walked slowly into the kitchen where Colbi sat sipping coffee. “Have you seen Rags?”

“No,” she said frowning. “As a matter of fact, he wasn’t here for breakfast. I thought he was with you.”

Savannah thought for a moment. “I wonder if he got locked in somewhere. I’d better go check.”

“Check what,
hon?” Michael asked as he entered the room.

“Rags.
I don’t know where he is. I wonder if he’s locked in a closet.”

“I’ll look. You sit here and have your juice,” Michael suggested.

Savannah stood in place. “Where could he be? He never misses breakfast and he almost always sleeps with us.” She looked over at Colbi. “Where’s Dolly?”

“Last I saw
her, she was still sleeping in her pen. I left the door open in case she wanted to come down and join us. For a kitten so young, it’s uncanny how she can find her way around this big house after such a short time.”

“She’s a smart little girl.” Savannah smiled.
“Just a yummy kitten. I’m so glad Damon rescued her. She would have surely died without treatment.”

Just then they heard Michael laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Savannah asked with a frown as he entered the room. “Did you find him?”

“Yeah, I found him,” Michael said with a chuckle. “In the pen curled up with Dolly. He’s in her bed and she’s asleep
under one of his paws. Here look,” he said holding out his cell phone to show them the photo he had taken.

“Oh
my gosh, how adorable is that?” Savannah said.

“
Awwwww, precious,” Colbi agreed.

“But why is Rags sleeping through breakfast? That’s not like him.”

Michael laughed. “Maybe the kitten kept him up playing all night.”

Rap-rap
.

“It’s the officer,” Michael said looking toward the kitchen door. “I’ll get it.”

“Hello, Officer . Want a cup of coffee?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Come on in. Join us.”

“Anything happen last night?” Colbi asked, half afraid to hear the answer.

“Well…” he said. “It’s getting kind of eerie out here at night. I see all sorts of critters—possums, coons, I thought I saw a wolf and a pretty large house cat, too—probably a cat gone wild.” He shook his head. “Or else the job is getting to me,” he said with a laugh.

“That old gal was bringing them all in by feeding them,” Colbi said. “We talked to some people who knew her, yesterday, down at the homeless camp.”

“You went down there?” Savannah asked. She opened the refrigerator and poured herself a glass of orange juice.

“I’m a journalist. It’s part of my job,” Colbi said matter-of-factly.

“So what did you find out about the woman—Beverly?” Michael asked.

Colbi took in a deep breath. “Well, she was a loner, but there were a few people in the homeless community that she spent time with sometimes. She bragged about how well she ate out here because of all the orchard fruit and veggie gardens. She also thought the wild animals should eat well and she told people that she’d steal and even buy food for them. They got her discards—carrot tops, peelings, and so forth. And she ‘found’ grain in people’s sheds for the animals. But she also had some money coming in and she’d walk to local stores and buy food in packages small enough to carry.”

Michael and Savannah exchanged glances. He said with a sigh, “Guess that’s where our horse feed went to.”

“So I guess I really was seeing wild animals out there,” the officer said. He glanced at his watch and added, “My replacement is supposed to be here any time. I’ll see you folks later—thanks for the coffee.”

“Thanks for keeping us safe,”
Colbi said as he walked out the door.

Savannah sat down across from
Colbi, took a sip of juice. “Sounds like she was a harmless old gal, just passionate about animals.”

“Only that passion was misplaced. I mean, you don’t want to entice wild animals down into residential areas,” Michael said. “It puts our animals and our property at risk and it’s dangerous for the wild animals, too.”

“And our children,” Savannah said, gently rubbing her hand against the side of her belly.

“So what was it like going to that homeless camp?” Michael asked.

“Kind of weird at first,” Colbi said. “But once the people started talking, rather interesting. You know, these are people just like us, only they see life through different eyes.” She shifted in her chair. “Some of them have had fascinating lives.” She perked up a little and said, “We’re going back today. There’s one woman we want to talk to. She wasn’t there yesterday.”

“Where was she, out panhandling?” Michael asked, frowning.

“No, it was her birthday and her family took her out to lunch.”

“You mean she has a family and they let her live homeless?”

“From what I understand, “Colbi said, “it’s a choice for some people. One man told me he has no obligations and no worries and that’s just the way he likes it. Well, they do have worries,” she said, “the weather and other homeless people stealing their belongings. But they don’t have jobs, homes, bills, things like that. It’s the simple life in some ways—going back to the basics.”

Savannah thought for a minute,
then said, “You know, I read about a homeless guy in Southern California who was creating some great beach art using beach rocks. Every day, the tide would wash away his sculptures and every day, he’d rebuild. People started going down to the beach just to see his art. There were write-ups in the local papers and this brought even more people out to see his interesting rock sculptures. They’d take pictures and give some to him. He made an album that he would show to people who visited. At Christmastime, he made a rock Christmas tree. Someone donated Christmas lights and, because of pressure from the community, the city let him use their electricity to light the tree for a few hours on Christmas Eve. I guess a lot of the homeless community as well as mainstream people gathered together that evening for a tree-lighting ceremony.”

“Cool,” Michael said. “Does he still do that? I’d like to see it.”

“No, soon after the Christmas tree thing, city officials told him he could no longer do his rock art. They were afraid of rocks falling on people or something—a liability issue. But the publicity caused a local business owner to reach out and offer the guy a job and a place to stay.”

“Nice. I love happy-ending stories,”
Colbi said, clapping her hands together.

Savannah spoke up. “But that’s not the end. Going back to the point you made a while ago,
Colbi—that some homeless people choose the lifestyle…well, that was the case with this guy. He worked for only a short time and soon he was back on the streets living the life he’d become accustomed to. Nope, a job and roof over his head was not for him.”

“Wow!”
Colbi said.

Michael just shook his head and took a sip of coffee. “I guess every culture and every era has their homeless element,” he said.

“Yes,” Savannah agreed, “and some of the homeless have pets, especially in the warmer climates.”

“Yeah, I see people along the road and in mall parking lots asking for handouts with their dogs,” Michael remarked.

“They also feed feral cats. In fact, I think they attract feral and abandoned cats, into their camps,” Colbi said. She looked up at her tablemates and added, “That’s going to be the focus of one of my upcoming columns.”

“Well,” Michael said, scooting his chair away from the table, “I’d better get to work.” He stopped, pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket, and said, “Oh, wait!
A text from Marci.” He walked into the other room, staring down at his cell phone. When he returned, he said to Savannah, “Marci and Eric have offered to bring Adam over for a visit tomorrow. What do you think?”

“Why?” Savannah asked.

“Well, he’s out of school that day and they know we don’t want him here overnight until…” he grimaced “…this…mess is cleaned up.”

“Oh, you told her about what’s going on?” Savannah asked.

“Yes, I called her last night to let her know it may not be safe for him to come this weekend. But he wants to see us and Marci said they have friends near here that they would like to visit if it would be convenient and safe for Adam to stay her for a few hours during the day.”

“Great!” Savannah said. “Can you get away from the clinic tomorrow?”

“Sure, I can work something out.”

“Then tell her yes, by all means. I’ve missed that little guy.”

“What time?”

“You work that out. I’m flexible.”

“Okeydokey.” He bent down and kissed Savannah. “See you this evening,” he said before patting her bulging tummy.

***

Later that day, Damon picked Colbi up and they headed for the homeless camp to meet Beverly’s best friend.

“
Ahhh, it feels good to get out of the house,” Colbi said as she watched the scenery fly past the car windows. She turned toward Damon. “Have you ever noticed that the homeless seem to live in the prettiest spots in town?”

“Yeah, on the beaches, along riverbanks, in lush vegetation in the foothills…” He glanced over at her. “You’re right; what’s wrong with this picture?”

They both laughed.

“This is as close as we can get. Are you up for a walk again today?” Damon asked as he parked the car.

“Yeah, I did okay yesterday. And it probably won’t take so long to get there now that we know where we’re going,” she said.

“I guess they remember us,” Damon said when he saw a couple of people waving as they neared one of the campsites.

“Gosh, they do some elaborate things in designing their homes,” Colbi said. “And without having to go back and forth to the hardware store like I always do when I set up housekeeping.”

Damon laughed. “Yeah, I’d call this shopping-cart décor.”

Colbi chuckled. “They do have a lot of shopping carts down here for storage and holding up their canopies.” She pointed. “They’re using that one as a dog bed.”

“A double-decker—there’s a dog in that sideways cart and a cat on top. Now that’s being resourceful.”

“Hey,” Damon said, taking Colbi’s hand as they walked, “if you get tired, maybe I can rent one of those shopping carts and push you the rest of the way.”

“Yeah, right,” she said smirking.

“Oh Damon,” Colbi said, pointing, “there’s Jake—the guy who told us about Beverly’s friend, Mary.”

“Yeah, let’s go talk to him.”

“Mary knows you’re coming,” Jake told them. “I’ll take you to her.” Before walking away, he asked, “Did you bring her chocolate?”

Damon said, “Yes, just like you suggested.”

“She does like her milk chocolate,” he said, grinning a toothless grin.

The couple followed the man known as Jake through a row of tents, canopies and makeshift rooms carved into the ample brush. Curious eyes stared out at them from some of the shelters. After passing a half-dozen or so crude dwellings, Jake motioned for the couple to go around the corner. He pointed to a path that disappeared into the brush and told them to follow it to where Mary stayed.

Damon turned to Jake and asked, “Do you like chocolate?”

He hesitated and then said, “Yeah!”

“Well, here, this one’s for you, then,” Damon said, handing him a chocolate bar. “Thanks for helping us out.”

The man’s eyes lit up as he focused on the candy. “
Yer welcome.” He took the bar and walked back toward his camp, smiling.

The brush was thick on both sides of the path, but the trail was clear and easy to navigate. After walking the distance of half a city block, the couple came upon a metal structure. It appeared that it had been toted in from a construction site, or maybe from someone’s backyard. The door opening was covered by a heavy piece of drapery fabric. Sitting just outside the opening, on an upside-down shopping cart padded with several thicknesses of old clothes, was a pudgy young woman who appeared much older than her twenty-nine years. She wore leggings, a
baggy tie-dyed t-shirt, a tattered jacket, mismatched socks and worn sport shoes. She was stirring a pot over a portable stove.

“Hello,” Damon said. “Are you Mary?”

She jumped and looked up. “Oh, you startled me. Yeah. Mary. That’s me.” She went back to stirring and then she looked up again. “Are you those people with questions about Beverly?”

“Yes,”
Colbi said. “I’m Colbi Stanton and this is Damon Jackson.” She looked around and asked, “Okay if we sit on this log?”

“Yeah, help
yerself.”

They stared over at the woman for a few moments, watching her as she intently stirred the pot. Finally
Colbi asked solemnly, gently, “Mary are you aware that your friend Beverly has died?”

“Yeah.
They told me after you was here yesterday,” she said. She stared into the pot for a few more moments and then she looked up at Colbi and smiled. “She was my best friend.” She looked back down at the pot. “Yeah, she was older than me, but she said I reminded her of her daughter and I could sure use a mama, so we became sorta like family.” She looked off in the distance. “We made memories together. Beverly said her old memories were sad and she liked making new, happier ones with me.”