A Picture-Purrfect Christmas (A Klepto Cat Mystery Book 13) (4 page)

BOOK: A Picture-Purrfect Christmas (A Klepto Cat Mystery Book 13)
9.94Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“How many children are there?” Savannah asked.

Shelly scrunched up her face in thought. “Maybe six—a few older than Marissa, who is ten, and a few younger.”

“So there’s a father figure in the house?”

“Yes, if you’d call him that.” Shelly hesitated and stared off into the distance.

“What is it?” Savannah asked. “Is this child being abused?”

“Not so anyone notices,” Shelly said, “but I believe something is wrong there. Maybe neglect is closer to the truth, which, in my book, is abuse. Marissa is not thriving and I think there’s a reason why, only…”

“Only what?”

“Only, I haven’t been able to find out what it is.” She turned abruptly toward Savannah. “You know, Marissa’s affliction is in her legs. They’re crooked and she has trouble walking. One day Mavis Cotton pretty much bragged to me that it’s easier to take care of a kid who can’t run away from her. Now what kind of attitude is that?”

Savannah frowned. “Oh, surely she was making a bad joke.”

Shelly narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t think so, Savannah. There’s something wrong in that family; I just know it.” She looked squarely at her. “I’m concerned for Marissa’s life—for her future on this planet.”

“Wow! Where are her parents?” Savannah asked.

Shelly set her jaw. “The rumor is that her mother died from a drug overdose shortly after Marissa was born. They lived in Frisco at the time. Somehow the child and her father landed here, but he may still have ties in the city. He evidently spends half his time on the streets and the rest in jail.”

“Sounds like something that would occur in the underground of a big city, doesn’t it? How did you get this information, anyway? Does the child talk to you about her home life?”

Shelly shook her head. “No, she doesn’t say much.” She took a deep breath before explaining, “I used to date a man in the DA’s office. He had a special interest in this little girl before he was killed.”

“He was killed?”

“Yeah, run down in the streets of San Francisco one night last June while out jogging.” She wiped at her eyes, then looked at Savannah. “He was there to inquire about Marissa, actually. I think he was close to finding her father and untangling some of the truths about the Cottons. He sent me a text before he died and I’ve been trying to figure out a way to get Marissa out of that home ever since.” She looked at Savannah. “Oh, I’ve said too much already. Don’t want to jinx our efforts. Anyway, she’s special. But I fear for her life every day she’s with that family and every moment she’s accessible to her father.”

Chapter 2
 

 

“You’ve been quiet since you got home, hon,” Michael said later that evening. “Anything wrong?”

Savannah eased Lily onto the floor and watched her push her doll buggy around the room for a few moments. “Not really.” She looked up at her husband. “We had a great ride. I enjoyed seeing that area. And I like Shelly. It’s just that…”

“What?” he asked.

“Well, she told me about a child who she thinks isn’t being properly cared for and I can’t stop thinking about that poor little thing.”

“No!” Adam shouted. He then whined, “Dad, make Lily stop running over my crayons.

I’m coloring here.”

Michael chuckled while picking up Lily and her buggy and aiming her in a different direction. He kissed her cheek. “Push your baby that way. Don’t run over brother.” He then suggested, “Son, why don’t you sit on the sofa here with me and color on the coffee table.”

“Then she’ll take my crayons,” he complained.

Suddenly Rags raced into the room. When he saw Adam on the floor, he trotted to him and attacked his hand playfully, scattering crayons in every direction.

“Not funny, Dad,” Adam complained when he saw the corners of Michael’s mouth start to curl. “This was my best coloring yet and he crinkled the page. Darn it, Rags!”

“Here, let me help you,” Michael said, scooping up some of the crayons. “Hey, I have an idea.”

“What,” Adam asked, “put Lily to bed and lock Rags up on the back porch?”

“Not quite,” Michael said. “Okay, I have two ideas. You choose. You can sit at the dining room table or on the staircase landing where Lily can’t bother you, or you can go to your room and neither of the juvenile delinquents can get to you.”

“Delinquents?” Adam said. “That’s funny. You mean like criminals?”

“Yes, like criminals disturbing the peace, violating your space, vandalizing your crayons,” Michael exaggerated. He took a breath. “So, what’s your choice?”

“I want to be in here with you guys,” he whined.

“Yeah, I prefer that, too,” Michael said.

Savannah addressed the boy. “So, Adam, why don’t you choose another activity that you can do with Lily and Rags and save coloring for when those two are sleeping. Want to do that?”

Adam, clutching his coloring book to his chest, his fist full of crayons, looked from the toddler to the cat. After some contemplation, he nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s a good idea. I’ll play with Lily and Rags now and color later.”

“Thanks, hon,” Michael said when Adam left the room to put his coloring books away.

“For what?”

“For your great insight and logical thinking.”

She shrugged. “It was pure luck. Not all my ideas are as readily accepted.”

Michael sat down and began stacking Lily’s blocks just as Adam scampered back into the room. “Hey, I’ll help,” the boy said. “Let’s see how high we can get it before she knocks it down.”

While Michael continued to add blocks to the stack intermittently, along with Adam, he turned to Savannah. “So tell me about this child.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with him?” Adam asked.

“It’s a little girl and she’s crippled and lives with a family who isn’t very nice to her,” she explained.

“How do you know that?” Michael asked.

“She’s in Shelly’s class at school and Shelly said she isn’t thriving.”

“What’s that mean?” Adam asked, crinkling his nose.

“She isn’t flourishing as a child should be—you know—growing and getting stronger,” Savannah explained.

“Like me?” Adam asked, standing tall and flexing his muscles.

Savannah tousled the boy’s hair. “Yes, like you.” She then said, “Adam, if you want to go with me to the photography class tomorrow, you’ll get a chance to meet Marissa.”

“Yeah, I want to go. Can I take pictures with a real camera?”

“Sure. I have a camera you can use.”

“Awesome.”

****

Wednesday afternoon, Savannah and Adam arrived at the recreation hall to find Shelly setting up the room.

“Thanks for coming early,” she said. When she spotted the boy, she greeted him. “Hello there, Adam. Glad you could join us.”

“Thanks,” he said, looking down at the camera in his hands. He then looked up. “Savannah let me use this camera.”

“All right! Looks like a good one. Most of the kids will use these disposable cameras.”

“Disposable?” Adam asked, glancing briefly at Savannah.

“Yes,” Shelly explained, “you take pictures, get them developed, and then throw the camera away. You can use it once and that’s it.”

“What a waste,” he said.

“But consider this, Adam,” Shelly said as she stacked several cameras on a table, “these cameras cost me around $5 each and that camera you have there probably cost between one and two hundred dollars.”

“Oh,” he said, now appearing to understand.

Suddenly they heard a melodic voice, “Hi, Ms. Shelly.”

“Marissa, hi. So glad you could make it.”

Savannah turned to see a small girl, who looked younger than her ten years, sitting in a ratty wheelchair in the doorway. Her soft dark curls bounced as she glanced around the room through sparkling brown eyes.

Shelly hugged the girl, then pulled back. She frowned and asked, “Where’s your
new
chair?”

The child looked down and spoke quietly. “I don’t know. I guess someone else needed it more than I do.”

Shelly set her jaw and said through gritted teeth, “They probably sold it. That was
your
chair, darn it. The fundraiser was for
you
.”

“It’s okay, Ms. Shelly,” Marissa said brightly. “Remember, I
can
walk…” She looked down. “…only not very far.”

Just then a pert pony-tailed girl of seventeen appeared behind Marissa and continued wheeling her through the door. Shelly acknowledged her. “Hi, Erin. Thanks for bringing her.”

“Sure,” the teen said with a wide smile. She then frowned. “…although, it was a bit dicey today.”

“What do you mean?” Shelly asked.

“Well, there was the wheelchair issue…we had to go to the disgusting basement and find this one for her to use.” She frowned. “It was covered with spider webs and I had to clean it—Rissy helped,” she added, motioning toward Marissa. “Then we had to scrounge for lunch. By the time I got home from class, all that was left to eat were a few stale chips and some cheese slices. I found enough change in my purse to buy two corn burritos and an apple, which we shared.”

Shelly grimaced, then asked, “What happened to her new chair?”

Erin shrugged. “Who knows? I’ve been in that house for seven years and a lot of my stuff has gone missing. Remember the bike I won in that contest? It disappeared. Mavis told me it must have been stolen. Well, I saw a kid on it a while later and he and his mother swear they bought it off Craigslist.” She leaned toward Shelly. “I think we all know what happened to Rissy’s chair and my bike.” She smirked. “Mrs. Rotten…I mean Cotton…sold them.”

“Grrr,” Shelly said.

Marissa stood awkwardly and hugged Shelly around the waist. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Shelly smiled down at the girl, then turned toward Savannah. “This is Marissa and Erin. Girls, Ms. Savannah is going to help with the class. Today, she brought her son, Adam, to join us.”

“Hi,” Savannah said, reaching her hand out to Marissa and then to Erin. “I see you brought your own camera.”

The younger girl’s face brightened. “Yes. Errie got it for me.”

When Savannah and Shelly glanced up at the teen, she said, “I found it at a thrift store. I charged the battery overnight. I hope it works okay. Which reminds me; I’d better get to work.”

“Still have that job at the new hamburger place, huh?” Shelly asked.

“Yes, twenty hours a week. I’m also taking classes at the junior college. Sure would like to buy an old car or even a bicycle—it’s awkward trying to work around the bus schedule, but it’s impossible to save much when I have to give most of my paycheck to Mavis.” Shrugging, she added, “Plus, I don’t know how to drive.”

“Can I give you a ride to work?” Savannah offered.

“Oh, how nice. No. I can hoof it from here. Thanks, anyway.” She turned to leave, then called out to Marissa, “Now take bus three to Johnson. From there, you can wheel around the corner to Sutter. The driver will help you put the chair on and off the bus. Okay, kiddo?”

“I can give her a ride home,” Shelly offered.

Erin thought for a moment, then said, “That would be great. I don’t think Mavis would get upset about that.” She turned sullen when saying, “But you never know with her.” She glanced at Marissa, then addressed Shelly, “Yeah, that would be safer, if you don’t mind driving her home.”

“Not at all,” Shelly said, smiling.

“Gotta go,” Erin said as she darted out through the door.

“Thanks, Errie,” Marissa called after her. She turned to the others and asked, “What can I do to help you guys?”

“I think we’re all set,” Shelly said. “Just visit with us while we wait for the others.”

The girl settled back in her chair and picked up her camera.

“Do you like photography?” Savannah asked.

Marissa frowned momentarily. “I don’t know. I like art and Ms. Shelly says photography is an art.” She smiled up at Savannah. “So I think I’ll like it.”

Adam held out his camera. “Your camera’s like mine…I mean like Savannah’s. She let me use it.”

The two children compared cameras for a moment before Marissa’s curiosity got the best of her. “Why do you call your mom by her first name?”

Adam glanced at Savannah. “Well, she’s my stepmom.”

“Oh,” Marissa said nodding.

“What do you call
your
mom?” he asked.

Marissa looked down. “I don’t have a real mom. The mother of the house where I live has us kids call her Mavis, only some of them are her real kids and they call her mom.”

“Oh,” Adam said. “Are there lots of kids there?”

“Six,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m the last.”

“The last?” Savannah asked.

“Well, the last one to be…brought there. That was three years ago. Erin was the first.” She smiled. “She’s the nicest one there. My other family went to jail, I think. But they weren’t my real parents, either.” She seemed to brood for a moment, then asked Adam, “Do you know your real parents?”

Taken aback, Adam said, “Yes, I live with my mom and stepdad and sister. Right now I’m visiting my dad and stepmom and other sister.”

Marissa’s eyes widened. “That’s real nice.”

“Hey,” Adam said, pointing, “I saw a big spider over there. Want to go take a picture of it?”

“Okay,” Marissa said excitedly, grabbing the wheels of her chair.

“Do you need a push?” Adam asked. “I could push you.”

“Not right now.” Marissa looked at Adam. “I can actually walk, you know. Just not very good.”

“What’s wrong with your legs?” Adam asked, walking alongside the chair as Marissa wheeled it across the room.

“I don’t know. Mavis told me my legs were broken when I was born or after I was born and nobody could fix them.”

Savannah, overhearing this, turned away to stifle a flush of tears.
Pull yourself together,
she thought.
You aren’t going to be any help if you fall apart. What is, is. Let it be. Deal with what you can and accept the rest,
she silently chanted to herself.

“Savannah,” Shelly said quietly, “you okay?”

She took a deep breath and nodded; her eyes following the two children as they headed across the room.

“It’s sad, isn’t it?” Shelly whispered.

“Yeah,” Savannah said. “But don’t tell
her
that. She’s a ray of sunlight. She just sparkles.”

Other books

Treat Me Like Somebody by Simms, Nikki
Angel Seduced by Jaime Rush
Squall by Sean Costello
Darkwater by Dorothy Eden
Thanksgiving 101 by Rick Rodgers
Cold as Ice by Charlene Groome
No One Heard Her Scream by Dane, Jordan