Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 05 - The Colony Cat Caper (10 page)

“Just wondering why yer here,” the man said, pulling off one leather glove and slapping it against his leg, which the women noticed was covered by black leather biker pants. He scowled and pushed his large, wrap-around dark glasses up on his nose.

“We’re feeding cats,” Margaret said as
if weary of explaining. “What are you doing out here?”

He appeared to be staring hard at her. “I live here, if you must know,” he spouted, slapping the glove against his leg again. “Why are you feeding cats, anyways?”

“So they don’t die,” Margaret said. She shifted her stance so she was full-on facing the stranger. “Look, we have permission to be here so we can take care of these cats.” She peered at him through a frown and said, “You know, it puzzles me how so many people around here know about this place and the cats and never lift a finger to help them out.”

The forty-something man, of slim build, glanced over at the feeding station and then back at the three women. “They kin take care of theirselves,” he said. He then pointed a gloved finger at Marga
ret and said, “Now listen to me. When you put them in those cages, they howl and I’m tired of listenin’ to it. I need my sleep…see…”

“Are you the one who keeps letting them out of the traps?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” he said glancing around.

“We’re trying to
get them some medical help. We need to trap them in order to take them to the veterinary hospital.”

“Yeah, can’t you wear earplugs for a couple of nights and let us finish our work?” Colbi asked.

The man stared at her for a moment. “Yer sure spunky for such a little girl,” he said.

He then looked up and down Savannah’s tall, very pregnant frame. “If I hear them cats screaming again, I’m gonna call the cops, ya hear?” At that, he spun on his heels and disappeared out through the gate.

“I’m getting spooked by all of these people,” Savannah said. “With so many against us, we could soon be facing a lynch mob.”

“Or they might harm the cats,” Margaret said quietly. “And this guy could be the ringleader. Did you see those gnarly tattoos?”

“Yeah,” Colbi said. “He sure looks tough for a small guy.” She turned toward Margaret and Savannah. “So what are we going to do?”

“I have an idea,” Savannah said. “We need to get to the cats as soon as they’re trapped.”

Margaret stared down at her shoes for a couple of seconds and shook her head. “Whew, that could be time-consuming.”

“And sleep-depriving,” Colbi said with a laugh. “But makes sense. We could organize shifts out here.”

“Yeah,” Margaret said, “and as soon as the cat falls into our trap, we whisk it off to…where?” She looked over at Savannah.

“Good question. This means we’d have to involve Michael or…hey, I wonder if Bud would like to get involved in this caper…er…a…cause.” She smiled. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and said, “I think I’ll call our ne
west veterinarian.”

When he answered, she said, “Oh hi, Bud. Not with a patient, huh?”

“Hi Savannah. No, doing a little research. What are you up to?”

“Just calling to ask you a favor,” she said, hesitating a little.

“Yeah?” he responded, sounding slightly wary.

“You’re aware that we’re working with a cat colony out at the old Fischer building, aren’t you?”

“Yes, how’s that going?”

“Well, we’re kind of at a standstill at the moment. Need some help. Now don’t feel you have to do this just because I’m
asking. But…well, we’d sure appreciate it if you could…”

“What is it, Savannah?” he asked suspiciously.

“We need someone to sit with the traps at night, and as soon as a cat is trapped, take it to the clinic.”

“Why?” he asked.

“We have neighbors who won’t use earplugs,” she said with a chuckle.

“Huh?”

“The cats we trap are evidently making a lot of noise and the neighbors are letting them out before we can get to them.”

There was silence. “I’ve never heard of that happening be
fore. Is that one neighbor or…”

“No, it seems to be several of them who are bothered by the cats.”

“How far away is that tract from there, anyway?”

“Seems far enough that, with windows closed, you wouldn’t even hear a cat in a trap that’s under a buildi
ng, but we are getting complaints and we’re being sabotaged,” she said.

“Sure, Savannah. I’d be glad to help out. Maybe I could go out there a couple of times and get our new vet tech, Spence to do it once or twice. How many cats are we talking about?”

“Around a dozen, we think…well ten left, by our count. But you know how it goes—sometimes you catch the same ones over and over again. It could take time to capture and treat them all. If we trap day and night, it might not take as long.”

Bud was silent
for a moment. “Yes, it could take some time,” he said with a sigh. “But yeah, I’m in. When do you want me to start?”

“How’s tonight?” she asked.

“Um, Brianna’s coming over tonight,” he said hesitantly. Then he said with a laugh, “But you know what, I’ll get her to come out there with me. She sometimes complains that we do the same thing all the time. This will be something different.”

“Oh yes it will,” Savannah said bursting out laughing. “For my sister…definitely a different way to spend an evening. I l
ove it,” she said still laughing. “Thanks Bud. The traps are here; we’ll leave a couple of cans of tuna and an opener. Good luck…keep us in the loop, will you?”

“Sure. ’Bye.”

***

At seven fifteen that night, Bud and Brianna pulled up to the Fischer build
ing in his veterinary truck. “I can’t believe you’re bringing me out here in the boonies when you have a perfectly good home where we could get frisky,” Brianna said with a sigh.

He grinned. “Business.”

“No monkey business?” she asked in a flirtatious manner, flipping her dark-brown, naturally curly, but carefully straightened hair off one shoulder. She looked around at the chain-link fence and the large building beyond and scowled. “What is this place, anyway?”

“It’s a secret mission your sister has sen
t us on.”

Her brown eyes narrowed. “My sister, huh? Wait until the next time I see stilt woman.”

“Stilt woman?” Bud laughed. “Is that what you call her?”

“Yeah, what would you call your sibling who got the only tall, skinny, blond genes in the family?”

“So what does she call you?” he asked, his eyes flashing, playfully. “The voluptuous sister?”

“You mean fat and lumpy,” she said with a pout.

“No, I mean curvaceous and luscious,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.

“Now take it easy. We have
business
to take care of, remember?” she said with a scowl.

He reached over and took her hand. “Come on, Brianna. It’ll be fun. Just you and me in the open air on a…not-so-balmy night under the stars.”

“Not so balmy is an understatement. It’s freezing out there,” she said, shivering.

“Oh you’re bundled up enough. You’ll be fine. Besides, it’s for a good cause.”

“Oh yeah, if I’m going to get frostbite, I would feel better about it knowing it’s for a good cause. Thanks a lot. Big help.”

Bud chuckled. “Come on, it’
ll be like camping out.”

As they approached the truck bed, Bud opened a compartment and said, “You take the blanket and flashlight; I’ll get the chairs and wine.”

“Wine?” she said. “Things are definitely looking up.”

While Bud prepared and set the two t
raps, Brianna held the flashlight. Then they placed the chairs close together. Bud opened the bottle of wine and they sat down, wrapping the large blanket around the two of them.

“Where are the glasses?” she asked

“We’re roughing it,” he responded. He handed her the bottle. “Here, you go first.”

“Out of the bottle? Are you serious?”

“Okay, you don’t have to have any,” he said, preparing to take a swig.

“Wait,” she said as she pulled the bottle from his hands and took a drink.

The couple had been sitting and talking quietly, sipping the wine for nearly an hour when they heard a loud “SNAP.”

“Caught one,” he whispered.

Next came the sound of thumping and rattling from within the metal trap, along with soft mews.

“Poor kitty,” Brianna said. “It’s scare
d.”

“Yeah, I hate the trapping process, but it’s best for the cats in the long run. They can contract diseases and get awful wounds when they’re out like this. They sometimes need medical treatment. And it’s important to spay and neuter them so they don’t
bring more cats into situations like this.”

“Mew, mew.”

“At least this one’s not a screamer,” Bud said. “…nice quiet mews.

“So can we leave now? We caught one,” Brianna said.

“No, let’s hold out and see if we can catch one in the other trap.”

“Well,
I have to go potty, where’s the bathroom?”

“Uh, anywhere you want it to be,” he said with a devious grin.

“Oh no, this
is
like camping out, isn’t it? Okay, give me the flashlight,” she said as she removed the blanket from around herself and stood. She looked in all directions and then began to walk toward the north side of the building. Once she was out of Bud’s sight, she glanced around the area. Suddenly, something caught her eye.
What the hell’s that?
She stood stock-still and killed the flashlight.
There’s someone in that building…or something. What is that? It’s grotesque. I’m outta here.
“Bud, Bud,” she called in a strained whisper as she rounded the building toward him.

He jumped out of his chair and jogged up to her. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his
brow creased with concern.

“I want to go home, now,” she said. She pointed in the direction she’d come from, her breathing accelerated. She spoke in a loud frantic whisper. “Someone…or some
thing
’s in there!”

He looked over at the dark building and said,
“Brianna, you’re imagining things.”

“Oh no, I’m not,” she said, pushing past Bud toward their chairs. “And what I saw is not even human. I’m leaving.”

Bud grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him. “Not human? What are you talking about?” he asked. “Show me what you saw. I’m sure there’s some sort of explanation.”

“You go look, I’m going to the truck and locking the doors.” Using the flashlight to light her way, she rushed out the gate and back to the truck. She was just climbing into the cab whe
n Bud caught up with her. “Brianna, give me the flashlight. I have to get that trap.”

She handed him the light, settled in the seat, and started to close the door.

Bud stopped the door and said, “Here are the keys; warm up the cab. I’ll be right back.” As he walked over to where the cats lived, he stopped. He then shined the flashlight toward the north side of the building. Curious now, he used the light to see his way around the building, where he looked it up and down, focusing on each window and door.
Nothing.
He stood for another few minutes, scanning the area with the flashlight and then staring at the windows again before walking back to where the cats congregated.

“SNAP!”

Cool, caught another cat
, he said to himself.

“Yeowl!! Yeowl! Yeowl!”

Boy that’s a noisy one. Better get him out of here before the neighborhood comes down on me,
he thought, rounding the corner of the building toward the crawl hole. As he drew near where the traps were partially hidden under the building, he heard something else.
That’s more of a moan,
he thought.
What is that?
He pulled two heavy leather gloves out of his back pocket and put them on. He then reached in and pulled out one of the traps. “Oh, hello,” he said to the large black-and-grey striped tabby. “You’re the noisy one, aren’t you? Let’s get you loaded up.” He lifted the trap carefully and carried it to the truck. He raised the bed cover, slid the trap in and closed the cover to muffle the sounds.

He then walked back to retrieve the second trap. He could hear
the moaning more clearly now.
That sounds like a cat in distress
, he said to himself. He pulled the trap out. “Oh, an orange tabby. Hi, fella,” he said. Ignoring the frightened yellow eyes and the soft cries of the cat inside, he set the trap aside and knelt down, using the flashlight to peer into the crawl space. When he heard the sound again, he realized it wasn’t coming from under the building. He spun around, shined the light into a stand of shrubs, and continued to listen. Just then he saw two bright eyes reflecting back at him—he stood and walked slowly toward the eyes and found a white long-haired cat lying stretched out, panting and groaning. As he approached, she seemed to convulse and then she let out a scream and went limp. He moved closer and looked down.
She’s trying to have kittens,
he thought.
This time of year? Unusual, but not altogether unheard of for feral cats.
Bud reached over and touched the cat.
Cold. Not good.
“Wait here, kitty. Maybe I can help,” he said, rising and rushing back to the veterinary truck. He opened a compartment, grabbed a large blanket, and hurried back to the shrubs. He laid the blanket out on the ground and then carefully eased the cat onto the blanket. When she didn’t resist, he wrapped her up, lifted her, and walked back to the truck. He thought about putting the cat inside one of the animal cubicles, but had another idea he hoped wouldn’t backfire on him.