Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 04 - Undercover Cat (9 page)

***

Later that evening at the Ivey home, Savannah, Michael, and their overnight guests were in the kitchen talking.

“So tell us about your new place, Sis,” Savannah said.

“I really lucked out,” Brianna said enthusiastically after putting the last of the dinner dishes in the dishwasher. “I have two bedrooms, a little patio of my own, and a view.” She spun around before facing the others again. “I love, love, love it!”

Savannah grinned. “This is a far cry from yesterday’s experience, isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah!”
Brianna said. “Mom, tell her how gorgeous it is.” Before her mother could speak, Brianna added, “And the price is affordable on my salary. I’m so pumped.”

“I can see that,” Savannah said. “That’s great news, Sis.
Can’t wait to see it.” She glanced around at her mother and Michael before saying, “Shall we take our dessert into the living room?”

Once in the living room, Gladys started to set her teacup and dessert plate on the small table alongside the overstuffed chair. “Hey, what’s he doing?” she asked as she saw Rags leap up next to the lamp.

Savannah looked over at the cat. “Oh no you don’t, Rags,” she said, raising herself from the sofa where she’d barely gotten settled.

“I’ll get him,” Michael offered.

Before he could react, Savannah grabbed the cat and eased something out of his mouth.

“What is it?” Michael asked.

“Well, it’s the address of a cat hoarder Auntie and I visited last year. Remember when we were trying to find out what was happening to the missing cats?”

“I sure do. But
they
weren’t taking the cats. So why do you need their address?”

“Michael, they were ugly, ugly people. We thought animal control was going to shut them down and maybe they did. But when Iris said that
Colbi had been working on a story about cat hoarders before she…disappeared, I thought this might be important. Rags and Charlotte found it in his stash yesterday.”

“His stash of stolen goods?”
Brianna laughed.

Michael shook his head in disbelief and reached out to pet the cat who was trying to climb Savannah’s leg in an attempt to get at the card.

“Why is this card so important to you, Rags?” Savannah asked looking down at him. She then reached into the pocket of her bulky sweater and pulled out another business card. “Here, you can have this card someone left at the door.”

“What’s that card for?” Michael asked.

Savannah looked down at it and said, “Lawn care, tree trimming…” She held it out to the cat. “Here Rags, you can have this one.”

He sniffed it and then sat down and stared up at her.

“He wants the other one,” Brianna said. “Maybe he knows it might be important in finding your friend.”

“Yeah, hon. Have you called Craig?” Michael asked.

“Not yet. I sorta forgot.” She looked down at the card again and said, “You know what, I’ll do that right now.”

“What did he say?” Michael asked when Savannah returned to the room.

“Didn’t get to talk to him. Left a message. Then I called Iris’s house. She wasn’t home, but I talked to Damon. I gave him the information in case he sees Craig before he gets my message.” Savannah sat down next to Michael on the sofa. She patted her husband’s leg. “He said he has a kitten. Is that the cat he called about this morning? Did he bring it in?”

“Yeah, the little thing has a slight respiratory infection. I treated her and sent her home with Damon.”

“That’s funny.”

“Yeah, it
kinda is, isn’t it? Damon taking care of a cat…” They both laughed.

“What’s so funny about that?” Brianna asked.

Gladys looked puzzled, too.

“Well,” Michael said, “Rags is the guy who put Damon in jail and all he could say while he was being fingered…
er…a…pawed, was ‘I hate blankity blank cats!’” He put his hand over Savannah’s and squeezed it. “Did he say how the kitten’s doing?” he asked.

“Yeah, he said she seems a lot more comfortable, but all she wants to do is snuggle with him.” Savannah looked over at Michael. “Do you know what he told me?”

“What?” he asked.

“He said, ‘This cat’s pretty cool. Not like other cats.’” She laughed and Michael joined in.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Brianna asked.

Michael looked over at her and then glanced at Gladys, who was also waiting for a response. “Well, people who have never let a cat into their homes or their hearts and who think they dislike cats, once they befriend one, will usually say something like, ‘This cat is different…not like other cats.’” He paused and then said, “This is a beautiful kitten and seems sweet—not skittish like most
ferals we see.”

***

Damon hung up the phone after speaking with Savannah and punched in Craig’s number.
I know Savannah just called him, but I think I’ll try again. This information could be important and Craig should have it as soon as possible.
The call went to voicemail. Damon left a message.

He placed his phone on the bedside table and looked down at the kitten,
who was curled up next to him. “You sure like to cuddle, don’t you?” he said while running his fingers along the top of the kitten’s little tabby head. Within a few seconds, the purring started. Damon smiled. “I like your purr sound, kitty.” He thought about it and realized he had never heard a cat purr before—never in his life.
It’s cool. I’ve never had a cat like me before, either.
“You seem to like me, don’t you, kitty?”
Hmmm, kitty,
he thought.
Not a very cool name for such a cool cat.
“What should we call you?”

Dang, am I losing it? I’m
talkin’ to a cat.
The fluffy tabby raised her head and stared up at Damon. “You sure have a cute little face,” Damon said, running a finger alongside the kitten’s cheek. “I like your eyeliner.”

He glanced over at the phone.
Gosh, I wish Craig would call.
He looked down at the kitten again. She was resting her chin on Damon’s hand. “So what are we going to call you? You’re cute, you like to cuddle, you’re fluffy, you’re a survivor, you have stripes—sort of—and little white feet. And you wear eyeliner.” He laughed. “And you live with the girl I love.” Damon felt a lump in his throat.
Did I just say I love Colbi? Yeah, I guess I do.
He scrunched down on his bed and buried his face in the kitten’s fur.
I just hope I get a chance to tell her that
.

He sat up. The kitten raised her head too, stared at Damon for a few seconds and then laid back down. Damon smiled at the kitten. “You are cute,” he said. “And you need a name.
How about Dolly?” He laughed. “You wear a lot of eye makeup like Dolly Parton.” He ruffled the kitten’s fur. “Or Elizabeth; you have a white necklace like Elizabeth Taylor wears in those commercials. Lizzie—that’s cute.” He thought about it some more and then said, “No, Dolly fits you better. What do you say? We’ll have to run it by Colbi.” The tabby rolled over and exposed her furry, mostly white tummy. Damon couldn’t resist rubbing his hand along the soft fur.

He took a deep breath and glanced over at the note he’d written with the information Savannah had given him for Craig. He picked it up and looked at it.
I know where this is. I think I’ll go over there and see what I can find out.
He thought about it for a minute and then decided.
Yes, I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I’m going to go check these people out.

***

Colbi continued to use what energy she could muster to scrape away at the hard, dried-up putty around the window pane. Suddenly she heard something on the steps outside the door.
They’re coming down here. Oh no.
She lowered herself to the floor, unfolded the thin mattress, and slid it over toward the far wall. She felt around for the blanket, lay down, and pulled the blanket up over her. Just then, she heard someone unlock the latch on the basement room door. As usual, the sudden blast of light blinded her. She looked away. When she turned back, she shielded her eyes and saw the obese woman walking in carrying an electric lamp. George was behind her with a flashlight.

“Find the plug outlet, dummy,”
Lida said.

He shined the light along the wall, stopping when he spotted an outlet. She promptly plugged in the lamp and set it on the floor. She then set up her stool and plopped herself down on it. She stared over at
Colbi. “You’re tryin’ to cause us a whole lot of trouble, missy. We have a good thing goin’ and we don’t need no interference from some Diane Sawyer wannabe.”

Colbi
sat up, pulling the blanket tightly around her legs and feet. “Look, you’ve been on the radar of animal control for a long time,” she said. “They’re aware of the scam you’re running here. Harming me won’t change that.”

“Well, it’ll shut
you
up…keep
you
from writin’ that story.” She smirked. “We got your stuff upstairs.”

Colbi
frowned. “Stuff?”

“The stuff you were
gonna use to write the story. It will be destroyed along with you and all them stupid cats up there.”

Colbi’s
pretty face twisted as her rage accelerated. “You are the worst kind of hoarder—you don’t even have a heart for cats. You use them to extort money from those who really do care.”

George came out of the shadows. “Watch your mouth,” he said as he backhanded her.

She fell against the mattress and then, holding her hand alongside of her face, a mix of rage and fear shooting from her eyes, she yelled, “Pick on someone your own size, creep!”

George started to move toward her again when his wife said, “Oh stop, George. She won’t be a problem much longer.”

“What are you going to do to me?” Colbi asked meekly.

“
Wellll,” Lida said, smacking her lips. Her hands on her knees, she rocked back and forth against the small stool. “We’ve decided.” She looked Colbi in the eyes. “There’s gonna be a fire down here.”

“Yeah,” George said with a grin.
“A really big fire. We’re gonna burn you at the stake like the witch you are.” He laughed and then said, “And all thirteen of those cats are going to join you—get it? Cats and witches go together, right?”

“Clever, George.
Now shut up!” Lida turned her attention toward Colbi. “I want to know who else knows about this story you was gonna write.”

Colbi
dabbed at the blood oozing from her mouth. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Why you…” George started toward her
again, his hands out in front of him like an eagle’s claws.”

“No George,” the woman said.

“She can’t get away with that, can she?”

“Not for long, George.” She stared down at
Colbi. “Not for long.”

George smiled widely at the thought of what was to come.

The woman shouted, “Tell me who knows about this story!”

“No one.
I work alone. I don’t talk about my sources or the subjects of my articles until they go to press.”

“Hmmm, a girl with…what’s it called? Ethics,” the woman said. “It’s a shame you’re
gonna die without making a difference,” she spat sarcastically. She laughed and then moved in closer to Colbi, staring into her face. “And guess what? We’ll be runnin’ our business out of someplace where no one knows us. You, Miss High-and-Mighty, you
didn’t
make a difference and you’ll
never
make a difference.” She leaned back and turned to George. “Go get the gasoline. We’re gonna have us a little fire.”

“Is everything packed?” he asked.

“Yeah. We have everything we need in the car.” She turned toward Colbi. “We’ll just drive out of the garage and be on our way while you and those mangy cats fry.”

“They’ll catch you!”
Colbi shouted, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh no they won’t.
We’ve been in this business long enough to know what we’re doin’. So don’t you worry none, missy, about that.” She laughed. “In fact, you won’t have to worry about nothin’ in another…” She looked at her watch. “…thirty minutes or so.”

The woman stood, picked up the stool, and started to walk toward the door. “Get that lamp George and let’s get
movin’.”

***

In the meantime, Damon called Craig’s cell again. The detective didn’t answer, so he left another message. “Craig, this is Damon. I’m on my way to that place to see if I can find any sign of Colbi. I’ll talk to you later.”

Damon drove about thirteen minutes before arriving at the neighborhood where the hoarders were known to have lived. It was dark. The streetlights were sparse and he had trouble locating house numbers. He drove slowly, looking at each house as he passed.
According to the few numbers I can see, it should be this one or the one next door. Where are the house numbers?

Hmm, there are lights on in the front of the green house.
He drove forward.
What’s that? A cat—two cats in the window of the green house. What to do … What to do…
Damon backed his car up until he was parked two houses down from the green house. He killed the engine, reached into the glove box, and dug around for a flashlight. When he felt it in his hand, he pulled it out and tucked it into his jacket pocket. Just as he started to open the car door, he looked up and noticed that the lights at the green house had gone out. Suddenly, the garage door opened and a large, dark, new-model SUV pulled out onto the street. Damon ducked down out of sight as it sped past him and turned the corner behind him.