Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 03 - Sleight of Paw (11 page)

“Oh I think they’re about finished here,” he said. He looked over at Michael, who was still sitting on the sofa. “I just came in to tell you, Michael, they found blood in your truck.”

“Yeah, I know that,” he said.

“You seem surprisingly calm about it. Is there a logical explanation?”

“Sure is.”

Savannah heard her aunt gasp and looked over in time to see her turn a little pale. “It’s okay, Auntie, really it is,” she said.

“It’s okay?” Craig repeated.

“Well yeah,” Michael said, standing to address him. “I hit a deer a couple of days ago and threw the carcass in the back of the truck.”

“What, you butcher road kill now?” Margaret let out a rather nervous laugh.

“No, Auntie. He just didn’t want to leave it along the road—he wanted to properly dispose of it.”

“Is this true, Michael?” Craig asked.

“Well, yes. Didn’t you see the blood and the dent on the front of the truck? I called my insurance company the next day. I’m sure they have a record of it.”

“Now, isn’t that good news?” Craig said with a half smile. “I’m really glad to hear it. That could make a big difference in the investigation.”

“Can they tell the difference between human and animal blood?” Margaret asked.

“Yes,” Michael responded. “That’s not going to be a problem, is it Craig?”

“No, I doubt it. But I am concerned about…something else.”

“What’s that?” Michael asked.

He stared over at him for a few moments and then asked, “Michael, do you carry a knife in your truck?”

“Sure,” he said matter of factly.

“What for?” Craig asked.

“For emergencies.”

“What sort of emergencies?” Craig wanted to know.

Michael grimaced—took a deep breath. “Well, in case a horse gets tripped up in a rope and I need to cut him free. I might use it to cut an embedded halter off.” He thought for a minute and then said, “I also have hoof knives.”

“Do you keep them locked up in your truck?”

“Yes,” Michael said. “I keep things like that locked in the side compartments.”

Craig thought for a minute—his eyes studying Michael’s face. “Did you use your knife on the deer?” he asked.

“I don’t…” Michael started. He narrowed his eyes, scratched his head. “No. I did use it that day to cut a rope. But I’m sure I locked it back in the compartment.”

“Well, we’re going to need to take a look at the knives you carry in your truck. Would you show me?”

“Yes. Sure,” he said, heading for the front door.

Craig glanced over at Savannah and then followed after Michael. He watched as Michael unlocked one of the side boxes on his veterinary truck and started to reach in for a knife. Craig said, “Allow me.” He looked into the well-organized bin, spotted a buck knife in a leather sheath and, after slipping on a latex glove, reached in to retrieve it. He looked it over and then dropped it into a large envelope. “I’ll get it back to you in a few days.”

Michael started to close the box when Craig said, “I’d like to take a look inside while you have it open, if you don’t mind.”

Michael stepped back.

“Can you unlock the others for me, please?” Craig asked while poking around inside the bin. After several minutes, Craig said, “Okay, I think that’s all.” He picked up the envelope, stared intently at Michael and said, “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

When Michael stepped back into the house, he heard Savannah telling her aunt, “Well, at least, we don’t have to worry about that awful Pete Gamble anymore.” She turned toward her husband. “Isn’t that right, Michael?”

“Yeah, that’s a relief,” he agreed. “But then, our problem with him is the main reason they’re looking at me as a suspect,” he added.

“But like you told me earlier, we haven’t done anything wrong. We’re innocent. We have nothing realistically to worry about.”

“Playing devil’s advocate here, let me remind you that we didn’t do anything wrong to deserve the trauma and fear Pete put us through when he was alive, either.”

“Good morning, sunshine. I guess we have no excuse not to go to work today, right?” Michael propped himself up on one elbow and furrowed his brow. “What are you doing up so early, anyway?”

Savannah was quick to respond. “I think there’s something wrong with Rags. He isn’t eating this morning—didn’t eat much last night. He seems lethargic to me. I’m going to take him to work with me and check him out.”

He sat upright to get a better look at the cat, who was lying in a meatloaf position—all of his paws under him. “Oh, he doesn’t look as perky as usual, does he? What do you think is wrong?”

“Could be cystitis. Or maybe he got some bad cat food. But the other cats seem fine.”

Michael climbed out of bed and walked over to Rags. He reached down and scratched him behind one ear. The cat pushed into his hand with his head, but didn’t bother to get up. “Yeah, he’s not feeling himself, that’s for sure. Sorry Rags. Mommy will have you feeling good in no time. She’s a doctor, you know,” he added, smiling over at Savannah.

***

Savannah pulled into the parking lot at the clinic a little before 8 a.m. Michael drove in right behind her. It took longer than usual to coax Rags off the car seat and into the carrier. In fact, he didn’t want to go in at all. “It’s protocol, Rags—you know, policy—the rule here. Cats have to be confined in a carrier when they visit the clinic. You can ride on the seat in the car. But now it’s time to get into the carrier. Come on, boy,” she urged.

Suddenly she heard a rap on the car window. She looked up and saw Michael staring in. “Need help there, Ma’am? Is that tiger giving you trouble?”

She rolled the window down about two inches and said, “Doesn’t want to get in his carrier. I guess he’s feeling better.”

“Looks like a two-vet job. Here, let me help,” he said as he opened the door and latched onto the large cat. Savannah turned the door of the carrier toward Michael and he slipped Rags in and closed it up. “Voila,” he said.

“Thanks. Now I’ll let you carry him in—if you don’t mind.” “Well hello, Rags. You’re becoming a regular here, aren’t you, big guy,” their receptionist Scarlett crooned. She looked up at Savannah and Michael. “Something wrong with him?” she asked.

“I think he may have an infection—maybe urinary tract…” Savannah explained. She spotted Bud coming out of the recovery room. “Bud, would you find a place for Rags? I’m going to examine him after the morning patients.”

“Sure. Come on Rags. We always have room for you,” Bud said as he toted the cat in his carrier to the back of the clinic.

That morning patients came and went. It was a steady stream of mostly routine exams, inoculations, claw-trimming, new kitten and puppy checkups, and a few cats and dogs that stayed for neutering and teeth cleaning. It wasn’t until noon that Savannah could work Rags into her schedule. She went back to get him. After opening the pen, she took a look to see if he’d used the litter box. She did, in fact, find a small wet spot.
Good, but not great,
she thought.
He could be blocked or just nervous. Some cats actually resist urinating when they’re away from home.
“Well, let’s take a look,” she said, picking up the cat and carrying him into an examining room. They arrived just as Alyce had finished sanitizing the table.

“Oh, what a cool cat,” Alyce said upon seeing Rags. “He’s big!”

“Yes, this is Rags—he allows us to live with him,” Savannah joked.

“Well, aren’t you something?”Alyce said as she moved closer to him. She then said, “He was in the kitty playpen a few days ago with two other cats, right? I remember seeing him in there.”

Savannah nodded. Suddenly she could feel the cat tense up. He began pushing his paws against her arms as if he were trying to escape. “What’s wrong Ragsy?” she asked.

Just then, Alyce reached her hand out toward the cat and he began to growl. He hissed.

“Ouch!” Savannah cried, as Rags dug his back claws into her arm and freed himself. He landed on the examining table and then jumped down onto the floor. He turned around once and stared at Alyce, his ears back and his tail low to the ground, before slinking under a chair in the far corner of the room.

Suddenly, the door opened and Michael peered in. “Everything okay in here?” he asked. “Did someone get bit?”

“No, scratched,” Savannah said as she dabbed at the wound on her arm.

“Did Rags do that?” he asked, stepping in and closing the door.

Savannah nodded. She looked over at their employee, while holding a tissue against the cat scratch. “Alyce,” she said, “I don’t know what this is about, but he seems to be upset with you. Maybe you’d better leave.” She walked over to the stunned woman. “I’m sorry. I’ve never seen him behave that way before.”

“No problem. I’m outta here—gladly. He’s one scary cat!” She said as she hurried out through the door.

“What happened?” Michael asked when he and Savannah were alone in the room.

“I don’t know,” Savannah said. “He saw Alyce and went crazy.”

“Well, that’s not like him. I wonder if he’s in some sort of pain. Here, let me get him so you can take a look.”

“Okay, but just don’t let that girl back in here.”

Michael took a step toward the cat and then changed his mind. “Savannah, let me see your arm.” She held it toward him and he said, “I’m going to send Bud in to clean it and put a dressing on it. Let’s do that before you finish with Rags.” He looked around her and saw that the cat was still huddled under the chair. “He’ll be all right there for a few more minutes.”

“Okay,” she said. Then, “Oh Michael, don’t forget we’re having guests in this evening.”

“Oh yeah, what time?”

“Around seven.”

***

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you.”

“Come on you guys, how many birthday parties is a guy supposed to get?” Michael asked.

“Depends on how well loved he is,” Savannah said. “Now just blow out the candles, will you?”

Margaret looked over at Michael. “You’ve already had a birthday party? And we weren’t invited?”

Savannah responded, “Oh we just had an early gift-opening with Adam. He made a present for his dad and wanted to give it to him. We had cake and ice cream last Saturday. So who wants chocolate cake and rainbow ice cream?”

“Rainbow ice cream?”

“Sorry, that’s what the birthday boy wanted,” Savannah said apologetically. “Oh wait. I also have a little Oreo cookie ice cream in there.”

“I’ll just have cake,” Max said turning up his nose.

“Cake and Oreo ice cream for me,” Margaret said.

About that time, Lexie sidled up to Michael, her nose sniffing toward the cake on the platter Savannah held.

“No chocolate for dogs, girl. Sorry about that.” He then said, “Savannah, do you have a treat in there for our oldest daughter?”

“She’s not your oldest, is she?” Max asked. “Isn’t Buffy more elderly?”

“Yes, I guess she is. Okay then, our largest daughter.” He patted Lexie and hugged her to him. “Come on, I’ll get you a treat, girl.” He got up and headed toward the kitchen. Before he entered, he noticed something sitting on the buffet in the dining room. “What’s this?”

“What?” Savannah asked.

“Someone’s keys.”

“Oh yes,” she said. “I found those at the clinic yesterday morning. I forgot all about them until Rags dug them out from between the seats on our way home this afternoon. I’m going to give them to Craig.”

“Where is Rags?” Margaret asked. “I haven’t seen him tonight.”

“Yeah,” Savannah winced. “He isn’t feeling well—little urinary tract infection.”

“Awww, sorry to hear it,” Max said. “Is he here? Or at the clinic?”

“Here,” she said. “We had him at the clinic today, but he had a meltdown of some sort.”

“What?!?” Margaret exclaimed. “Rags? The coolest cat in town?”

“Yes,” Michael said. “He went berserk right there in the examining room—caused such a ruckus it could be heard in the waiting room. Not sure how many people took their pets and went home.”

“Oh Michael,” Savannah said, “nobody walked out.” She looked over at Margaret. “But it was pretty scary. He even scratched me up some.” She held out her bandaged arm for her aunt to see.

“Well, what happened?” Margaret asked.

“I think it had something to do with our new girl, Alyce. He took one look at her and just lost it.”

Margaret frowned. “Why? Did she remind him of someone or something? Why do you think he acted that way?”

“I don’t know; maybe I ought to contact Caroline—the cat psychic.”

“Well, he’s okay now,” Michael said. “We just won’t let her near him, that’s all.”

“But wouldn’t you like to know why he would react to her that way?”

“I guess. But I think I’d rather just keep him away from her.”

After Savannah finished serving the dessert in the living room, she walked over and picked up a package off the dining room table. Here Michael. Happy birthday, honey.” She bent down and gave him a kiss on the lips.

“Well, thank you. Is it something you made?”

“No.”

“It’s not a re-gift, is it? This wrapping paper looks familiar.”

“No, Michael,” she said a bit impatiently. “It looks familiar because I have a roll of it and I’ve wrapped several birthday gifts in it already.”

“Oh. So what is it?”

“Open it, silly.”

Michael began tearing into the colorful paper and quickly uncovered the item. “It’s a…camera? Do we need surveillance cameras?” He looked up at Savannah. “Hey, not a bad idea. I can put one out by the corral and one by the dog run…”

“No, it’s not a surveillance camera, it’s a camera for your computer.”

“For his computer?” Margaret said with a laugh. “Is he going on the dating channel? Will we see his naked butt on his Facebook page?”

“Nooooo, you guys. It’s so he can talk in real time with Adam. I gave Marci one to hook up for Adam, too, so they can see each other and talk to each other any time.”

“Really?” Michael said as if disbelieving such a thing existed. “Did you hear that, Max? Now how cool is that?” He grabbed Savannah and hugged her to him. “And how thoughtful is my wife?”

“So you like it?” she asked.

“I love it. I am absolutely…well, this is the best gift ever. Thank you, honey.”

“Open our gift,” Margaret said, handing him a gift bag.

He smiled. “A pretty bag. Thank you, guys.”

“Open it, Michael,” Margaret said, feigning impatience.

“Okay.” He looked over at the couple and asked, “It’s not a kitten, is it?”

“No,” Max said.

“How do you know? You didn’t wrap it,” Margaret said, good-naturedly.

“Well, if it was a kitten, I would have heard it meowing on the walk over here, wouldn’t I? And Lexie would have been nosing around it. No, Michael, there’s no kitten in there. All of ours are accounted for.”

Michael peered into the bag and removed the tissue paper. He reached in, pulled out the item and stared at it, a puzzled look on his face. “It’s a…”

“It’s a pencil and pen holder,” Margaret said.

“Well, thank you guys. Really. Nice of you.”

“Look at it, Michael,” Margaret demanded.

He held it up and examined it more closely, and that’s when he noticed Adam’s smiling face on all four sides of the pencil holder. “Ohhhhhh, it’s Adam.”

“Yes,” Margaret said. “We’ve been doing photo sessions when he comes to help us with the kitties.” She stood and walked over to where Michael sat. Pointing, she said, “Here he is with Big Boy. Here’s a shot with him and little JoJo. Those are the golden girls, Molly and Lolly. And here he is holding his kitty, Tiger. He wanted a picture with his kitty on it, too, so I got Marci to email me one.”

“I love it, guys. I really do. You are all so thoughtful…all of you.”

Savannah put her hand on her husband’s arm. “Oh Michael, I think you’re going to cry.”

“Yes, I just might. I just might. I’m so…touched. Thank you again.”

“You act like you’ve never had a birthday party before,” Margaret said after sitting down next to her husband.

Michael was silent for a moment before saying, “Not many, actually. At least not with friends—just a meal of my choice for supper and maybe a new pair of shoes or a shirt for school. Savannah has told me about the celebrations you all had when she and Brianna were growing up. I missed out on all that.”

Max leaned forward and stroked Buffy’s fur as she walked past. “Well, Michael, I’d say you’re getting it now.”

***

“Where are you going to put your pencil box, Michael?” Savannah asked as they prepared for bed that evening. “In the study, in the office?”

“I’m thinking about the study next to the computer. Or near the phone in the kitchen to replace the pencil holder we have in there. What do you think?”

“It’s up to you,” she said disappearing into the bathroom.

“What are you doing in there?” Michael finally called out. “I’m waiting for my birthday kiss.”