Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 05 - The Colony Cat Caper (9 page)

“Hmm, I wonder what kind of car,” she said.

“Dad said maybe a…what did you call it, Dad?”

“Could be
from a Hudson or a Nash.”

“We’re going to look it up on the computer,” Adam said.

“Way cool, guys. Hey, how about some water? You’re probably thirsty after all of that exploring.” She pulled three plastic water bottles out of her tote bag and handed one each to Michael and Adam.

“Are you ready to try playing with one of the cats now?” Michael asked. “…if they’re not all sleeping after having a good meal.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Adam said.

Michael took out his pocketknife, which drew Adam to him immediately.
“What’s that?” he asked.

“Pocketknife.”

“Why do you have it?”

“It’s actually a tool—you can cut with it,” he said as he cut a piece of the cord from the roll. “You can use it as a screwdriver—see the flat edge on this blade? You can open packages with i
t, whittle—do all kinds of things.”

“Cool.” Adam stood quietly for a moment and then said, “We can’t bring knives to school.”

“Well, of course you can’t. Knives are tools for adults.” He handed Adam the cord and said, “Now, I’ll sit here with Savannah, and you walk slowly over to the hole and see if you can get any cats interested in playing. Just walk back and forth dragging the cord.”

Adam did as Michael suggested, moving slowly toward the hole and wriggling the cord at the entrance.

“I see a couple of cats watching you,” Michael said. “Just walk around, slowly.”

“Oh!” Adam exclaimed, as a cat edged out from under the building, crouched, and then pounced on the cord the boy dragged through the soft dirt. “That scared me,” he said giggl
ing.

Savannah and Michael laughed. “You caught something,” she said.

“Yeah, a cat-fish,” Adam said. He then stopped. “Hey, there really are catfish, but I caught a cat that isn’t a fish.”

Adam was able to engage four of the young cats in various levels
of play. A few of the adult cats were curious enough to sit just inside the crawl space and watch the action. After about fifteen minutes and several rounds of laughter, Savannah said, “Adam, when you’re through fishing, let’s go back to the house and have hot dogs and root beer floats.”

“Okay!” He looked down at the cat that had been attacking his cord and said, “I think we’re tired now. Can we go eat?”

“Sure,” Michael said. “Let me set the traps again and we’ll be off.” Once that task was accomplished, Michael folded the chairs and headed for the car, carrying them.

Adam followed along, continuing to drag the cord. He looked up at Savannah and said, “Hey, maybe Rags, Walter, and Buffy will want to play cat-fish.”

“Could be,” she said. Then she asked Adam, “Did you bring another pair of jeans?”

“Yeah, I think so. Why?” he asked.

“I want to wash the ones you’re wearing. You and your cat-fish really got those dirty.”

***

Later, Savannah carried a load of jeans into the service porch, including Adam’s pair. He had since changed his clothes. Before tossing the jeans into the washer, she checked all the pockets for tissue, money and other things left-behind. When she got to Adam’s jeans, she was pleased to discover that he had done a pretty good job of emptying his pockets. The front pockets were empty, except for a little dirt, which she dumped into a nearby trash can. She squeezed the back pockets, however, and felt something in one of them. She reached in and pulled out a photograph.
Hmm,
she thought.
I wonder where he got this?
She stuffed it into one of her pockets, started the washing machine, and headed back out to the wrap-around porch where Michael stood grilling the wieners and Adam sat nibbling on chips out of a bag. “Hey Adam, where’d you get this?” she asked holding up the photograph.

“Oh, that’s one of my treasures. I found it way behind the big house.”

When she looked puzzled, Michael said, “The Fischer building. We walked around to the other side. Do you know who it is?”

“No,” she said takin
g another quick look. And then she stopped and looked hard at the photograph. “Wait!” she said, causing Adam to stop mid-bite and Michael to look up from the grill. Savannah tapped her finger against the photo. “This is the same guy in that picture Colbi found at her house after the meeting, only…” she hesitated “…in a different pose.”

“Who is it?” Michael asked, walking over to take a look.

“I don’t have the slightest idea. Never saw him before. Iris thinks she might have seen him or his dad in the diner.” She continued to stare down at the picture. “He’s really rather non-descript—he looks slight, blond, really nothing outstanding about him. He’s not bad looking, but…”

“You mean no pimples or scars or crossed eyes…?” Michael said.

Adam laughed, which spurred Michael on. “No tongue sticking out…” He stuck his tongue out in an attempt to look scary.

Adam laughed louder.

“No fang teeth,” Michael said eerily. “No…”

“No cat ears,” Adam said laughing.

“Yeah, no cat ears or dog nose…”

“You two are silly,”
Savannah said grinning and shaking her head.

***

After two days of fun and frolic with Adam, Savannah and Michael drove him home. On their way back, Savannah said, “So what are we going to do about our trapping project?”

“
Our
trapping project?” Michael asked, winking over at her.

She smiled, arched her eyebrows.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, “I guess I’m involved, whether I want to be or not.” He thought for a moment and then said, “I don’t know, Savannah. I think Max is right—it seems that the traps are being sabotaged.”

“I wonder who could be doing it and why?”

Michael was quiet for a while and then he asked, “Do you know anyone who has outside video cameras? Maybe you could set up cameras and catch someone in action.”

Savannah straightened her po
sture and turned in her seat. “I love it! Yes, that’s what we’ll do. I’m calling Auntie right now.”

Chapter
Six

“Yoo-hoo,” Margaret called as she stepped into Savannah’s and Michael’s living room Monday just after noon. “Shouldn’t leave your door unlocked
, you know.”

Savannah replied from the bedroom just down the hall, “I only unlocked it because I knew you were on your way over. Be out in a minute.”

Colbi’s here, too,” Margaret said loudly.

“Hi Savannah,” Colbi called out.

“Hi girlfriend,” Savannah said as she walked through the bedroom door and into the hallway toward the living room. She hugged Colbi and then her aunt.

Margaret looked down at Savannah’s stomach. “Gads, you can’t get much bigger, can you?”

“Every month I think the same thing,” Savannah said, easing into a sitting position on the edge of a wingback chair.

“What’s this?” Colbi asked, picking up a photograph lying on the coffee table.

“Oh yeah, I wanted to show that to you guys,” Savannah said. “Adam found it this weekend.”

“Where?”

“You’re not gonna believe this…” she said.

“Where?” Colbi asked again.

Margaret gasped. “Not on your property, Vannie?”

“No.” Savannah shook her head. “But almost as weird—out at the Fischer place.”

Margaret drew her brows together; her mouth agape.
“What?” she said.

“That
is
weird,” Colbi said. “I’m stunned. How…I mean…what’s going on?”

“Yeah, he said he found it toward the back of the building.” She walked over and looked at it as Colbi held it. “Looks like it’s been out there for a while. It’s th
e same guy as the one in the picture you found, isn’t it, Colbi? Only a different pose.”

“Yes. I think so. He looks like he’s modeling or something, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, in both shots. Speaking of photos,” Savannah said, looking from Margaret to Colbi, “were you able to put your hands on some surveillance cameras?”

“Yes,” Colbi said excitedly. “Damon and I put them up last night. And we checked the video this morning.”

“So what did you see?” Savannah asked eagerly.

“A lot of cats,” Colbi said grinning, “
and…”

“And what?” Margaret insisted. “I don’t like suspense, tell us.”

Savannah laughed out loud. “You don’t like suspense, Auntie?”

She gave her niece a sheepish look and said, “Well, unless I’m creating it, I guess.”

Colbi laughed and then said, “Okay, here’s the deal, ladies. Yes, someone is letting the cats out of the traps and we think we know why. The camera has sound and you ought to hear those cats yeowl when they get caught. We couldn’t see who released the cats last night—didn’t get a look at his face—but it may be someone from that tract behind the old place, who can’t sleep through all that noise.”

“Oh, well that makes sense,” Savannah said.

“Yeah,” Margaret agreed. “So it isn’t someone with a greater cause.”

Colbi shook her head. “Appa
rently not. It’s someone with a selfish cause. The poor guy wants his sleep.”

“Hmmm, so how do we handle that little glitch in our plan?” Savannah asked no one in particular.

“We’ll have to think on it,” Margaret said. “But in the meantime, something else has come up—a new wrinkle, so to speak.” She shook her head and grinned. “All of this publicity your paper’s giving us, Colbi, is bringing people out of the woodwork.”

“How so?” she asked.

“Let’s sit down, ladies,” she said, motioning toward the sofa. “We might as well discuss this here where it’s warm and comfortable. Then we can run out to check on our kitties.”

“Can I get you some coffee, juice, water, tea?” Savannah asked.

“Yeah, I’ll get myself a cup of coffee,” Margaret said.

“Me, too,” Colbi s
aid, “if there’s enough.”

Once the women were seated in the living room—Walter lying on the sofa between Margaret and Colbi, Buffy on the ottoman next to Savannah’s feet, and Rags sprawled out across one of Lexie’s dog beds—Margaret explained the new
wrinkle.
“A woman from out of town called me—well, she called Betty because her contact number was in the paper. Betty sent her to me. This woman knows people here and follows our local news. She read the most recent article about our last meeting on the Internet.”

“So we’ve gone viral?” Savannah asked jokingly.

“I guess so.” Margaret laughed. “Well, she was most interested in the old Fischer place—asked if we had access to inside the building, wondered if we’d seen people around there. She had questions about what exactly we’re doing over there and who gave us permission to be there—stuff like that. Pretty soon,” Margaret continued, “she took a different direction with her questions.”

“In what way?” Colbi asked, creasing her brow. “Does she want to work with
the cats? Do you think we need help out at the Fischer place? I kind of think we’ve got it covered, except I guess we could use a bodyguard to keep other people away from the cats.”

“A bodyguard for the cats?” Savannah said. “Maybe we could hire a guard
dog.”

The three women laughed.

“No,” Margaret said, explaining, “she asked if we needed funds.”

“Oh, so she wants to donate to our cause?” Savannah asked. “Hey, that would be great!”

“Yeah, it would,” Colbi agreed.

Margaret shook her head, her dark-br
own bobbed hair almost brushing her shoulders. “No. But wait until you hear her next line of questioning.”

Colbi and Savannah leaned toward Margaret.

“She asked if our members are crafty.”

“Crafty?” Colbi said crinkling her nose and swiping her bangs to
one side.

“What did she mean by that?” Savannah asked. “Sneaky? Shrewd?”

“Devious? Wiley?” Colbi added with a chuckle.

“Well, I wondered that, too. But no, she meant do we create things—you know—like sewing, needlework, pottery…stuff like that.”

“Why did she ask that?” Savannah wanted to know.

“Apparently, she’s some sort of promoter. Her idea is that our members gather some Saturday or Sunday and sell their craft items to earn money for the Alliance.” She looked from one to the other and asked, “
What do you think?”

Colbi raised her eyebrows. Savannah narrowed her lips and cocked her head. She said, “Where?”

“Good question, my dear. And I think this is the whole reason Leta called me.” She smiled impishly—looked from Colbi to Savannah and said, “Guess.”

“Guess what?” Savannah asked.

“Weren’t you listening?” Margaret asked. “Guess where she wants to have the flea market.”

Savannah frowned, looked confused.

Colbi stared over at Margaret as if waiting for something more. She brushed a strand of her long hair off her face.

Margaret leaned forward, became animated, and said, “In the Fischer building!”

“Interesting,” Colbi said.

Margaret nodded. “Yeah, I thought so. I guess she’s had her eye on that place and has been looking for something to prom
ote there—I mean, it does have that whole big ground floor where Fischer parked his antique cars—there’s plenty of room for a large event. When she learned about our feral cat project, she thought maybe we could get permission to use the building and she could make some money helping us do a little fundraising.”

Savannah cocked her head. “Yeah, and I suppose if this works out, it’s a foot in the door for her if she wants to do events there in the future.”

“Sure,” Margaret agreed. “So what do you say? We could sure use the money. Maybe we could buy a soundproof shed…” She bounced up and down a little in her seat excitedly and said, “Or one of those compartments they use to explode bombs and grenades in.” She laughed.

“What are we going to do with that?” Sa
vannah asked, looking confused.

Margaret leaned toward Savannah and spoke slowly and deliberately, as if to a child, “To put the traps in. If the cats are in a soundproof room, their yeowling won’t bother the neighbors.”

“Ohhhh, I get it. Yeah, good thinking,” she said

Margaret smirked at Savannah, saying, “Sometimes I think the baby is putting a drain on your brain, girl.”

Savannah made a face at her aunt.

“Anyway,” Margaret said, drawing the word out, “do you think we can come up with enough people w
ho would rent booths to sell their wares?”

Colbi and Savannah sat in silence for a moment and then Colbi said, “Well, let’s make a list of our members who are creative.”

“And those with services they might want to promote,” Savannah added.

“Why can’t we
bring in people from the community? It doesn’t have to be just members, does it?” Margaret suggested.

Savannah nodded. “I don’t know why not.” And then she said, “But wait; wouldn’t the insurance be killer expensive if we get the public involved?”

“Oh yes, this woman—Leta Barnes is her name—she said she and her associate would pay whatever liability insurance was required.”

“Wow!” Savannah and Colbi said, looking at each other in surprise. “So how’s she going to make her money? How much of a cut does sh
e want?”

“These are things we’ll have to work out. I told her we’d have coffee with her to discuss it further tomorrow. Are you two up for it?”

“Sure,” Savannah said.

“Yeah, I can take an hour or so off tomorrow—say between eleven and twelve-thirty?” Co
lbi suggested.

Margaret clapped her hands together in front of her. “Okay then, put on your thinking caps and let’s see if we can come up with a list of crafty people. I’
ll make a few calls. I know that we have a couple of quilters in the group; one of them makes pet blankets for shelters. George makes horseshoe figures, Edie and one of her daughters paint glassware…”

“I didn’t know that,” Savannah said. “Did you know tha
t Iris makes jewelry?”

“She does?” Margaret asked.

“Yes. Pretty stuff, too.”

“She made this,” Colbi said, holding up her necklace. “Damon gave it to me. “She could also do color therapy or room design—things like that,” Colbi said.

Margaret clasped her hands together. “Oh that would be fun.”

“Colbi, you and Damon could sell your writing—or teach writing,” Savannah suggested. She then addressed her aunt. “That just leaves you and me.”

“What do you mean?” Margaret asked.

“What can we do? Nothing.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I can do a lot of things.”

“Like what?” Savannah challenged.

“Dance, give demonstrations involving cats—bathing, nail-trimming…things like that.”

“Oh that would be valuable, “Savannah said. “Good idea. “I guess that just
leaves me,” she said.

“How about a booth demonstrating how to make jam from your orchard fruit?” Margaret suggested.

“That would be awkward and messy. How would I manage it? I’d have to have a kitchen.” She shook her head. “No, Auntie, that wouldn’t work.”

“You could hand out recipes and answer questions,” Colbi offered.

Margaret stared over at her niece for a moment and then said, “I’d like to see you and Michael set up a sort of clinic or workshop for pet owners—or just be on hand to answer pet medical questions. Might bring business your way and it would definitely be a worthwhile effort.”

Savannah sat studying Buffy, then looked up at Margaret. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess that could work and it would be fun. Okay, count me…er…us in.”

“Good,” Margaret said. “Now don’t you think we’d better go see what our little Fischer cats are up to?”

“Let’s go,” Colbi said. She looked at her watch. “I have to be back to work in an hour.”

“I gotta go potty first,” Savannah said rushing in the direction of the bathroom.

“You’ve gone twelve times while we’ve been sitting here,” Margaret called after her.

“Have not,” Savannah yelled. Ninety seconds later, when she emerged from the hallway, she said, “Only twice.”

A little later, as the women walked through the gate
toward the Fischer building, Colbi said, “I think they’re getting used to us. There’s one of the white ones waiting for her breakfast. Hey look, she’s an odd-eye cat!” she exclaimed.

“Cool,” Margaret said. “Yeah, she—or he—would be pretty, all cleaned up
. Would sure like to get my hands on that one.”

Just as the women were finishing up with their feeding job, they heard something behind them. They turned and saw a bald man walking toward them at a fast and confident clip. He called out, “Hey, what ‘er ya
doin’ here?”

“Sheesh, what is this Grand Central Station?” Margaret said under her breath.

“Truly,” Colbi uttered.

“Hello sir,” Margaret said. “What can we do for you?”