The Purrfect Lie (Klepto Cat Mystery Book 12) (14 page)

BOOK: The Purrfect Lie (Klepto Cat Mystery Book 12)
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“I think so,” Savannah said. “I experienced something that’s maybe similar when Lily was born. It was like I was finally complete. I didn’t know I’d had an empty spot. I didn’t feel like I was missing anything. But when I was carrying her and we were bonding, even before she was born, I felt as if I’d finally found an essential part of myself that had been missing.”

“Then you do know what I’m talking about.”

“I think so—at least to a degree.” She tilted her head and said, “Uh-oh, someone’s getting cranky. Lily didn’t eat much breakfast; she’s probably hungry. Shall we eat?”

“Yeah, let’s do. Come on Crissy, let’s have some of Papa’s special dish.”

****

That evening over dinner, Michael asked, “So did Lily have a good time with her new friend? What’s her name?”

“Crissy. Oh yes, they enjoyed playing with each other’s toys and swinging…”

“You put her in a swing?”

“Well, yeah, they have baby swings at most playgrounds now. She loved it.” Savannah dished up a spatula full of lasagna. “The girls didn’t interact very much; they kind of played side by side. It’s interesting to compare Lily with another child her age. It seems that her development is right on track. Although she’s a little more daring than Crissy.”

“Daring? What did she do?”

“Oh, you know, she was eager to walk off by herself.”

“You didn’t let her…”

Savannah laughed. “No, Michael. You know what it’s like with her. You spend a lot of time chasing after her.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Crissy sat and played more contentedly. She wasn’t quite as busy as Lily is. But they were both very good girls—agreeable. Easy to entertain. You should have seen them when I sang to them—Crissy got a big kick out of,
Itsy Bitsy Spider
. Very cute.”

Michael smiled. “So do you think you’ll meet with them again?”

“Yes. We already have a date set up. She’s coming here next time.” Savannah was silent for a moment, then she said, “You know, there is just something haunting about Mary. I mean, I like her and all, but something about her and her past…well, it…”

Just then, her phone rang. She looked at Michael. “How does he always seem to know when we’re eating dinner?” She laughed and then took the call. “Hi Craig.”

“Did I catch you in the middle of dinner?”

“Oh, no,” she lied.

“Well, I have a bead on that guy who lived in Maggie’s basement. I think he was Keith Mullen. Ever hear of him?”

Savannah shook her head. “He used other names over the years, Ken Buchanan, Mike Cullen, but his real name was Keith Mullen.”

****

It was seven thirty the next morning when Savannah called Margaret. “Auntie, I’m sorry to call so early, but I just had to talk to you.”

“What is it? Is the baby sick?”

“Oh no. She’s fine.”

“How was your playdate yesterday?” Margaret asked.

“A lot of fun…and that’s sorta what I’m calling about. I talked to Craig last night and he told me the name of the man who used to live in your basement.”

“Did you know him?”

“No. Maybe you did—his name was Keith Mullen.”

“Nooo. I don’t remember that name.”

“Auntie, what I want to talk to you about is…”

“Oh, wait. Max needs me out in the cat room. Can I call you back?”

“Sure. Don’t forget, now.”

“I won’t forget. I’ll call you in a bit.”

“Who was that on the phone so early?” Michael asked, entering the kitchen.

“Auntie,” she said as she placed a platter of French toast on the table. “Want an egg?”

Michael shook his head. “Just fruit and this great-looking toast with your apricot jam. Do we have any more apricot jam?”

Savannah chuckled. “Yes, right there at your elbow.” She had just lifted Lily from her high chair and placed her on the floor when her phone rang. “It’s Auntie,” she muttered, putting the phone up to her ear. “Everything okay out in the cattery?”

“Yeah. Max just needed me to hold one of the kittens while he administered some medication. So what’s up?”

“Well, as I told you, the guy’s name was Keith Mullen, and would you believe…” Just then Savannah heard Lily screech. She spun around, asking Michael, “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Buffy slapped her and she didn’t like it. She’s okay,” Michael said as he examined the baby’s hand. “I think she cornered Buffy and the cat gave her a warning slap. I don’t see where any claws got her.”

“Ma-ma,” Lily said pitifully through her tears. She reached her little hands out to Savannah.

“Auntie, can I call you back? We have a situation here.”

“What happened?” she asked. “I hear Lily crying.”

“Nothing serious. I think it’s a case of hurt feelings.”

Once Lily had settled down, Savannah tried the phone call to her aunt once again. “Hi. Let’s hope there are no more interruptions. What I wanted to share with you is that I think baby Crissy’s middle name is Mullen. I’m pretty sure I heard Mary call her Crissy Mullen Rice.”

“Sooo?” Margaret said.

“Mary told me she was raised by her dad and her mother died in childbirth. I just wonder…”

“Wonder what?” Margaret asked impatiently.

“Well, like I told you, the man whose letter we found, his name was Keith Mullen and Crissy’s middle name is Mullen.”

“Oh Vannie, you have the wildest imagination. What are the odds of your new friend being the abducted girl he mentioned in his letter?” She paused and added, “You know how when you buy a red convertible, all you notice on the road after that are red convertibles?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Or you start dating a man with a moustache and everywhere you look, there’s a man wearing a moustache,” Margaret continued. “It’s like your mind wakes up to something and that’s all you notice after that.”

Savannah was quiet for a moment, then she asked, “Do you know if your friend Barbara ever lost a child?”

“What?!” Margaret almost shouted.

“It’s just that my two new friends, Jenna and Mary, look so much alike. I wondered if…”

“Stop it! Do you know how lame that sounds? No, I’m certain that if she’d had a child taken, I would have heard about it. You are simply jumping to the silliest conclusions, Vannie.” She sighed deeply. “Listen, you were gone yesterday—so maybe you don’t know. We’ve set the day…or I should say night…for the stakeout.”

“Oh, so the guy returned?”

“Yes, dammit. Two of the older cats went out. We found them inside the larger enclosure, but it was obvious they’d been out carousing. You know that big cat with all the fur? She was full of stickers from that old shrub we took out. Is Antonio going to get rid of that for us?”

“Oh yes. Sorry. I forgot to send him over.”

“So, can you make it tomorrow night? Dress warm in something dark so you can’t easily be seen.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m sure I can make it. What time?”

“Come around eight thirty.”

****

“You’re going to do what?” Michael asked the following evening over dinner.

“Try to identify the cat burglar,” she explained.

“Savannah, Savannah,” he said, blowing out a long breath and shaking his head slowly.

“What?” she asked innocently, an impish smile on her lips. “I won’t be alone—Iris will be there, Brianna, Colbi, Auntie. Just think of it as a hen party. You know we’re going to be gossiping and carrying on like we always do. The stakeout is simply one element we haven’t done before. It’s just a matter of getting a look at this guy once and for all.”

“Then you’ll call the sheriff?”

“Absolutely,” Savannah assured him.

****

By nine forty-five that night, the five women had taken their places for the unofficial stakeout in the Sheridans’ greenhouse turned cathouse. The wait was excruciating. It wasn’t easy for these women to be in such close proximity and remain silent. Each of them harbored various thoughts, most predominantly:

Why the hell did I volunteer for this boring job?

I gotta pee. I gotta pee. Shouldn’t have drunk that whole cup of tea.

That guy better come tonight, ‘cause I’m not doing this again.

And there were more frivolous thoughts:

Oh, I forgot to tell everyone about my latest thrift-store bargain. They’re gonna freak out when they see what I got for $19.95.

I miss my guy—I hope he feels frisky when I get home tonight.

Suddenly everyone froze, their busy minds focusing on the sound of the greenhouse door creaking open. The women saw a beam from a flashlight as the figure, dressed all in black, edged toward the cat pens. When he reached the first one, he placed the light on the floor, and that’s when the women became aware that he had bolt cutters in his hand. He raised them and began to cut the links on one side of the pen when Margaret shouted, “Secure the door, Iris!”

The figure spun around so fast that he dropped the bolt cutters and, being closest to where he stood, Savannah darted out from her hiding place and grabbed them before he could. She tossed them aside and then faced the cloaked figure, trying to decide what to do next. Just then, Margaret came around from behind Savannah and joined her. At the same time, Brianna raced toward them and stumbled, falling on all fours behind the intruder. Before she could get up, he began to retreat from Savannah and Margaret and he fell over Brianna onto the cement floor.

Savannah and Margaret jumped on him. “You damn creep!” Margaret screeched into his masked face.

Brianna struggled to get up, then joined her sister and their aunt, screaming, “You stepped on my fingers, you clumsy idiot!”

When Savannah saw that Colbi was frozen in place not knowing what to do, she called out, “Colbi, make the call! Make the call!”

“I’m calling,” she said, pulling out her phone. “Hello, sheriff,” she said, her voice two octaves higher than usual, “we caught the vandal here at the Sheridan place. Come and get him! Yes, we’re holding him down. Hurry!” She looked down at Margaret. “Hey, what’s your address? They want to know this address.”

“Well, hell,” she said, “35 Cranberry Way. Hurry!” she called out, hoping the dispatcher would hear her.

Just then, the intruder began to kick so hard that his body twisted and Margaret lost her grip. “Hold him!” Savannah shouted.

“I’m trying,” Brianna said as he twisted away from her. He stood and began swinging wildly at the women. Savannah didn’t have a choice. She had to turn him loose and get out of the way.

“Iris,” Margaret shouted. “Watch out—coming your way.”

When Iris saw him coming, she darted away from the door, which he easily opened before racing out into the night.

“What kind of car does he have?” Margaret shouted, as she, Brianna, and Savannah ran outside after him.

“Where’d he go?” Margaret asked. “Hit the floodlights!” she yelled.

“I’ll do it,” Savannah offered, rushing back inside and flipping the switch. When she rejoined the others outside the greenhouse, she asked, “Did you see which way he went?”

Brianna pointed. “Toward the highway, but I didn’t hear a car start.”

“Darn it,” Margaret said. “Did anyone get a look at his face? Who was that creep, anyway?”

Everyone shook their head. “He must have had a black mask on under that big hoodie,” Iris said.

“Or he’s black,” Brianna suggested. “Did anyone see skin?”

Everyone responded, “No.”

Just then they heard sirens.

“He got away,” Margaret said sullenly when she saw two officers exit the patrol car, each with a hand on their sidearm. She pointed. “He ran off in that direction.”

“Can you give us a description?” Deputy Ben asked.

Margaret shook her head as if in defeat. “No,” she said, “except to say that he was wearing a cloak-type coat with a hood like the grim reaper. It was probably a costume, actually.”

“Yeah,” Brianna said, “like that cloaked
Walking Dead
character.”

“I’ll bet that’s Michael,” Savannah said with a slight grin, retrieving her phone from her pocket. “Yes, we’re all just fine, hon. We caught him, but he got away before the sheriff could get here. He ran off toward the highway. No, we didn’t get a good look at him. Still don’t know who it is, but Bri thinks he’s from that
Walking Dead
show. Yeah. I’ll be home shortly. No worries.”

“Well, there may be one identifying mark,” Colbi said quietly, once Savannah had ended her call.

All eyes were on the petite woman.

“I got him with my diamond file as he ran out the door.”

“You did?” Margaret said. “Are you sure?”

“You stabbed him?” Officer Jim asked.

“Oh no. I was just holding it and he ran into it,” she said innocently.

Iris raised her hand for a high-five, punctuating it with “sistah!”

“All right,” Brianna said.

“Where did you—I mean, what part of him ran into it?” Ben asked, grinning a little.

“His left arm,” she said.

“Let me see that thing,” Jim said. “Mind if we take it in? There may be evidence left on it.”

Colbi nodded. “Sure. I have another one.”

“If we’re lucky,” Jim said, “we’ll be able to identify him. Now ladies,” he spoke more sternly.

Margaret cringed a little. “I know, I know.” Her tone accelerated as she continued, “But you guys aren’t doing anything and it’s our livelihood he’s messing with, and those cats’ lives.”

Jim sighed. “I understand. Truly I do. As you can see, we do take you seriously—we came as soon as we got the call. Maggie, please get a security guard out here, will you? You ladies go back to your homes and stay out of this. Let a professional take care of it.”

Margaret nodded. The women watched as the officers left in their squad car, then they stepped back into the house to finish their beverages.

“Hmph,” Brianna said, I thought we did a pretty good job, actually—we caught him, wrestled him down, and stabbed him. I doubt he’ll be back.”

“Are you sure he’s a man?” Iris asked, adding to her glass of red wine.

“No,” Margaret said.

“It’s a woman?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

“I don’t know,” Margaret said, deferring to her nieces.

“Well, you should know—you had your hands all over his body,” Iris insisted. “Did he have…”

“Iris!” Savannah said, pouring wine into an empty glass. “We didn’t either have our hands all over his body.”

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