Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 03 - Sleight of Paw (6 page)

“Well, yeah.” She tilted her head and raised her nicely arched eyebrows. Her highlighted hair draped over one shoulder. “You want babies, don’t you?”

“Sure. You know I do, but I don’t hear you bring it up much.” He stared over at her for a moment. “Does this mean…”

She waved a hand in the air in front of her and shook her head. “It doesn’t mean anything, Michael. Of course, I want children. But no, I’m not pregnant and I don’t intend being pregnant anytime soon.”

Michael sighed deeply and walked across the room. He turned back toward her, his voice deeper now. “When, Savannah?”

Savannah felt as though her heart was about to break. “Oh Michael, I’m sorry. I know how important having our child is to you. I didn’t mean to…” She turned off the stove burner, walked over and wrapped her arms around his neck. “We’ve only been married for a few months.”

“Nearly six months.”

She pulled back and saw signs of brooding on his face. She ran her fingers through the straight hairs that stubbornly fall over one of his eyebrows. “Actually, honey, I was thinking about suggesting I stop the birth control sometime in the fall. What do you think?”

Michael’s posture straightened and his face lit up. “Really, Savannah? Really? August? September? We could have a baby by this time next year.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “What do you say, Savannah? Shall we shoot for a spring or early summer baby?”

“Uh, well, I guess…” she started, when he bent down a little and kissed her hard on the lips. She slid her hands up around the back of his neck and held him to her, kissing him back, gently at first and then passionately.

“Savannah, you make me so happy.”

“This really does mean a lot to you, doesn’t it, Michael?”

“It means everything to me, Savannah. You mean everything to me and to have a baby with you…” He choked up and didn’t finish the sentence. They held each other tightly for several moments before Savannah pulled away with a gasp.

“What’s the matter?”

She rushed toward the oven and began to laugh. “Can’t you smell it? I just made Gladys Jordan bread.” She yanked the oven door open and began fanning at the thin ribbon of smoke that wafted past her.

Michael looked puzzled. “Gladys Jordan bread?”

“Mom has this knack for burning bread when it’s under the broiler. I guess I’ve inherited the curse.” She laughed.

“So what are we having tonight, hon,” he asked, “besides burned bread?”

“Creamed eggs and asparagus on…only slightly scorched English muffins. Sound yummy?”

“Sure does. Only…”

“Only what?” she turned to look at him.

“Only I’ve never had it before, but I’ll try to like it.”

“So what do you think?” Savannah asked after they’d been eating for a few minutes.

“It’s pretty good. Creamed eggs, huh?”

She nodded.

“Yes, I like it.”

Savannah scraped more of the burned parts off an English muffin and placed it on her plate. She ladled some of the egg sauce over it. “Michael I’m so glad you got that restraining order against Pete Gamble. I hope he follows it. Did you get his dog back to him?”

“Yes, he had a sheriff escort and Bud took care of things. They recommended I just stay out of the way.”

“Good.” She picked up her fork and cut through an asparagus spear. Before lifting the bite to her mouth, she said, “I’d rather see him in jail, though.”

“All in good time, I imagine. I spoke with Sondra Blair and it looks as though he could go to trial sometime in October. Don’t know why they drag these things out.”

“Do you like Sondra as an attorney?”

“Yeah, I guess. Never had one before, except to help me when I established the clinic. I haven’t seen her in action—you know in the courtroom—so it’s hard to tell.” He then looked intently at Savannah. “So far no leads on who tried to take Lexie.”

Upon hearing her name, Lexie raised her head up off her paw and stared over at Michael from her bed near the kitchen door. When no one made any further gestures toward her, she settled back down and closed her eyes.

“I’m convinced that Pete Gamble had something to do with it, aren’t you?”

“Sure am,” Michael agreed while cutting a piece of English muffin and swirling it around in the creamed eggs on his plate.

***

The next morning, Savannah got up first. She was in the shower when Michael opened the frosted glass door. He peered in at her, an impish smile on his face. “Want company?”

“Why sure, sleepyhead.” She reached out and pulled him to her.

Fifteen minutes later, Savannah was blow-drying her hair. “What an exhilarating shower,” she said with a sigh.

“Sure was,” Michael agreed, a wide grin on his face. He walked up behind her, reached around and started to untie the belt on her terry robe.

She pointed the dryer in his direction saying, “Don’t even think about it, buddy. We’ve got to get to work.”

“Awww, you’re no fun.” He walked into the bedroom and began to dress. He then returned to the bathroom wearing jeans and a lightweight flannel shirt. He looked over at Savannah, who was braiding her hair. “I’ll go feed the herd—what do you want for breakfast?”

“Just yogurt and fruit. We still have blueberries and raspberries left, don’t we?”

“I think so.” He turned to leave the room, stopped, and added, “I think I’ll have some of that creamy egg stuff we had last night.”

“Cool. Then you did like it.”

“Yeah.”

“Michael,” she called, “I’m going to take my own car today. I have to run a few errands after work.” She stepped into the bedroom and asked, “By the way, did you hear a ruckus last night?”

Michael stopped and looked over at his wife. “No, what sort of ruckus?”

“A cat ruckus. Some cat—probably Rags—was upset about something. I heard his thunder paws racing around the house and he was meowing. Something had him upset.”

“Nope, I didn’t hear a thing. Maybe you dreamed it.”

“Maybe, I guess. I really was sleepy, couldn’t wake up enough to figure out what was going on. Next thing I knew, it was morning.”

Savannah returned to the bathroom and finished primping in front of the mirror and then she headed in to straighten the bedroom and dress. She was pleasantly surprised to see that Michael had done a pretty good job of making the bed. She pulled a clean pair of jeans and a sweater out of the closet and quickly dressed. She was tying her sport shoes when Michael entered the bedroom. She took one look at his face and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I guess you weren’t dreaming, after all.”

“Huh?”

“Your cat
was
upset about something last night.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Damn tires have been slashed.”

Savannah frowned. “What tires?”

“Your car and my truck. All flat.” He paced across the floor in front of Savannah, slammed his palms down on a chest of drawers on the other side of the room, and said, “Damn that Pete Gamble!”

“So what do we do, Michael?” Savannah asked. “How do we get to work?”

“We get new tires. That’s what we do. As far as getting to work, maybe we can borrow Maggie’s or Max’s car.” He took his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call and ask.”

Savannah picked up her phone off the bedside table, unplugged it, and called the sheriff’s office. “Hi Ben, this is Savannah Ivey. I’d like to report vandalism. Yes. The tires on both of our vehicles have been flattened. No kidding. This
is
getting old. Okay, sir, we’ll do that.”

They hung up their phones at about the same time. Savannah spoke first, “Ben wants us to leave everything as it is until they can come out and look around. If they miss us here, they want one of us to come in and fill out a report.”

“Okay. What’s your schedule like today?”

“Not too bad. Why?”

Michael said, “Why don’t you go with your aunt over to that car-rental place this morning and rent a car for us. When Ben or Jim gives us the go-ahead, I’ll call and have the vehicles towed and arrange for the new tires.” He shook his head and thinned his lips. “My tires were almost brand new and yours were in good shape.”

“Isn’t this covered under our insurance?” Savannah asked.

“Possibly, but then there’s the deductible.” He started to pace again and then he stopped and said, “Since it happened here, this might come under our homeowner’s policy. Can you call and check on that? I’ll take your patients this morning.” He stopped and looked over at her as she picked up her jacket and scarf. “Anything I should know about your schedule?”

“No, I don’t think so…oh wait, Edie’s coming in with Sally. I was talking to her recently about a new treatment for cats with Sally’s condition and she wanted to consider it. Do you know the one I mean?”

“Uh, yes. You showed me that case history you were reading. I actually prescribed the treatment for the Montgomerys’ cat and he seems to be doing better. I’ll talk to Edie about it and maybe we can start Sally on a low dose. Is that what you had in mind?”

“Yes—she’s so fragile, we don’t want to introduce her to anything too abruptly. But I do have a good feeling about this treatment, don’t you?” Savannah asked.

He looked at his watch. “You’d better get some breakfast; your aunt will be here in twenty minutes. She’s going to drop me off at the clinic before taking you to the car-rental place.”

Michael followed Savannah into the living room. She walked over to one of the windows and looked out at their vehicles, which were parked in the circular driveway in front of the house. “Yup, flat,” she said upon seeing the car and truck both sitting on their rims. She started to let the curtain drop into place when she pulled it back again. “What’s that?”

“What?” Michael peered over her shoulder.

“There’s something sticking in the front tire of your truck.”

“Shoot, I didn’t see that. I’ll go look.”

Savannah stepped out onto the porch and watched as her husband approached his veterinary truck. “Better not disturb it, Michael,” she yelled. She watched as he squatted down and looked more closely at it. He then stood up, scratched his head and headed back up the porch steps.

“Well, what is it?”

He walked past her through the front door. “It’s an ice pick sticking in the tire with a note attached.” He turned to her, his face slightly contorted in anger. “It says, ‘You will die, too.’”

Savannah put her hand to her mouth and gasped. “My gosh, Michael, what does this mean?”

“It means that we could be in some danger. Or, it’s an empty threat.” He paced the length of the living room, turned, and said, “Whatever it means, I don’t like this. I don’t like it one bit! I’m going to call the sheriff’s office.”

“Don’t you remember, I told you I called and talked to Ben?”

Michael continued pacing. “That damn Pete Gamble,” he snarled. “Hasn’t he done enough damage?” He stopped in front of Savannah, looked over at her and ran his hand through his hair. “Why don’t you go ahead to the clinic. I want to stay here and talk to Ben or Jim—whoever shows up. I’ll hitch a ride over to get a rental car.” He looked up at Savannah, who was clutching her hands to her chest, a look of terror on her face. “Oh, honey. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, walking toward her. He put his arms around her in a bear hug just as she started to cry. “It’ll be all right, honey. I’m sorry if I scared you. It just makes me so mad, that’s all. I feel so helpless.” He put his hands on her shoulders and moved away, looking her in the eyes. “Now, you go eat something, will you? I don’t want you to wilt away.” He spun her around and gave her a nudge toward the kitchen.

She walked a few steps and then turned and looked at her husband. He motioned for her to go on and she disappeared into the kitchen.

***

Later the same day, Michael stepped into the lab where Savannah was viewing a set of x-rays. “Hi honey,” he said hugging her from behind.

She placed her hands on his arms for a moment and then turned to ask, “How did things go today?”

“Ben and Jim came out and did an investigation. They hope to get prints off the ice pick, of course. They said they will question Pete, but they doubt they’ll learn much. It would be hard to prove he was there, although they did find some tire tracks on the grass beside your car. And they took the note to see if they could find matching paper in his home or office. Whoever did this wasn’t smart enough to use plain typing paper—oh no—they used paper with a logo. Part of the logo was visible.”

“Let’s hope he left behind some good clues. I’m ready for this nonsense to stop. He’s really scaring me.” Savannah reached over and turned off the light on the x-ray reader. She looked at her watch and said, “Ready to go home? It’s nearly six.”

“Yes.”

She removed her lab coat and hung it up on a hook on the back of the door. “What are we driving today?” she asked.

“It’s a surprise,” he grinned. And then he added in a beguiling tone, “It has a seat warmer.”

“Cool.”

“No, warm,” he joked. He reached into his jeans pocket. “My phone,” he said as he pulled it out and put it up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hello, Michael. Craig Sledge here. I hear you had more excitement over at your place.”

“Yes Craig. We sure did have some excitement this morning—and not the happy kind. Do you know how much tires cost these days?”

“Not really—and you need—what, eight of them?”

“Yes, all four on both cars.”

“So how are you getting around—on Savannah’s horse?” Craig chuckled.

“We have a rental car. Ours should be ready tomorrow.”

“Where are you now?”

“At the clinic. We’re just heading home, why?”

“I have some paperwork I’d like Savannah to sign. Can I come by—say in an hour and a half?”

“Okay, I think we can do that. Let me ask Savannah.” He took the phone away from his ear. “Craig says he wants to talk to us. And you need to fill out a report. He said he can come by our house around 7:30.”

Savannah nodded and he put the phone back up to his ear. “Yes, that’s fine.”

Savannah and Michael turned off the lights, locked up the clinic, and left through the back door, veering to the right toward the parking lot.

“Oh, this
is
a nice feature,” Savannah said as the passenger-side seat of the rental car began to feel warm.

“Nice, huh? And look at this—it tells you the outside temperature, how much gas you’re using, all sorts of things,” Michael explained.

“It’s only fifty-one degrees outside?” Savannah remarked. “Brrrr. Sometimes it’s best not to know.”

“Kind of chilly for this time of year, isn’t it?”

Savannah let out a sigh. “Yeah, nothing’s quite as it should be right now.”

Michael tightened his lips—reached over and patted Savannah’s knee. “Hey, was there anything you needed to do today that we can do now? You had planned to run some errands.”

“Sure did. I’ll have to do the banking tomorrow. I was going to get a few groceries, but I think we have eggs and bacon, if you don’t mind breakfast for dinner.”

Michael nodded. “Sure, that’s fine. We never have time for that kind of breakfast for breakfast anymore, so why not for dinner?”

***

“Come on in, Craig. Savannah’s just finishing up in the kitchen.” Michael motioned for the detective to be seated. “So, any news?”

“Not much, I’m afraid. The prints on the pick are smudged. We did find tire marks in the grassy area, but they’re pretty nondescript. Appears to be from a small car or pickup. And we didn’t get a match for the paper used for the note—not yet, anyway.” Craig looked past Michael, stood, and greeted Savannah with a nod as she walked into the room.

“Hi Craig,” she said, walking over and hugging him briefly. She sat on the sofa next to a snoozing Walter. She ruffled his luxurious black fur while asking, “So have you traced any clues to Pete Gamble, yet?”

“Nothin’ concrete.” He pulled out a form from a folder and handed it to Savannah. “Here, do you want to sign the report?”

“Sure do.”

After a few minutes of conversation, Craig yawned. “It’s been a long day. I’d better go get somethin’ to eat and head for bed.”

“No date tonight?”

Craig laughed. “You know, I’ve discovered that dating is for the younger set. Iris and I do well to share a meal together once in a while at her house and then we fall asleep watching TV or listening to music. We’re not very exciting.”

“Yeah, you had all of the excitement together you two could stand when you were accusing her of murder.” Savannah laughed.

Craig turned sullen. “Sure glad that case didn’t go the way I expected it to. I would have missed out on the company of a wonderful woman.”

“We tried to tell you that,” she said. “Remember when you were trying to get us to say bad things about Iris?”

The detective creased his brow. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I was just trying to get at the truth and, man, that striking redheaded woman sure seemed to fit the killer profile.” A smile softened his face. “Like I said, I’m sure glad she wasn’t our man…er…uh…you know what I mean.”

Michael and Savannah laughed as they followed Craig toward the front door. “That wind is really blowing tonight,” he said as he opened the door and stepped out.

Savannah wrapped her sweater tightly around her. “Oh, Michael, we’d better pick up the cushions off the porch furniture.”

“Already did,” Michael said with a big smile.

“My aren’t you Johnny-on-the-spot,” she remarked. “Good job.”

***

“It sure howled last night, didn’t it?” Savannah said as she brushed her hair in front of the bathroom mirror the next morning. “I had trouble sleeping. Kept hearing strange noises.”

“Yeah. Sure was a strong wind. I wonder if we still have a horse out there,” Michael quipped.

“Well, I’m sure she was cozy in the nice stall you built for her. Horses know to face away from the wind, anyway.” She glanced over at her husband, who was shaving. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen that silly mare stand out in the rain, though. What’s up with that?”

“Dun na.”

Savannah twisted toward him. “What?” She laughed. “No wonder I couldn’t understand you—your face gets all contorted when you shave—makes your speech unintelligible.”

He rinsed his razor. “I said, ‘Don’t know.’”

“Oh, I thought you were asking for a donut or something.”

“No, that was my shaving vocabulary. You never heard my shaving vocabulary?” He winked. “I have quite a rapport.”

She laughed. “You mean repertoire.” She pulled her blond highlighted hair back into a ponytail and said, “So you don’t know why horses stand in the rain when they have a perfectly good shelter?”

“I think it’s some innate response to the elements, I guess, going back to their origins.”

Savannah stopped and stared over at him, hands on hips. “You just made that up.”

“How do you know?” he asked playfully, wiping the excess shaving cream from his face.

“I know,” she said. And then changing the subject, she suggested, “Hey, Michael, we have a light load at the clinic tomorrow, how about we drive over and pick up Adam in the afternoon when he gets out of school.”

His eyes lit up. “Do you think Marci would agree?” He then looked over at her, a worried expression on his face. “What if…”

“Look, I know what you’re going to say. Michael, we can’t be absolutely sure about anything. But I do know that it would do you and that little boy a world of good to be together right now. I’m going to call Marci.”

“Not this early, are you? It’s only…” he looked at his watch. “It’s not even 7:30.”

“Yeah, I’d better wait a while.”

“Great!” He smiled. He then frowned. “You know, we have to work Saturday morning.”

“I know. Adam can either come hang out with us at the clinic or he can go over to Max’s and Auntie’s. You know how he loves helping them with their cats; and they have kittens now. Someone brought an abandoned litter to them a few days ago.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Is his room ready?”