Catnapped (A Klepto Cat Mystery) (3 page)

BOOK: Catnapped (A Klepto Cat Mystery)
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“What are you doing, Rags? Get out of that drawer,” Savannah said as she put the glasses on her own nose so she could scoop up the persistently curious cat. She noticed a pair of panties dangling from one of his claws. “Let go, Rags, darn it!” After helping Rags retract his claw from the silky undergarment, she dropped the cat onto the bed with a slight reprimand. She then bent down to pick up a piece of paper she’d seen drop out of the drawer.
It appears to be something a child wrote,
she thought, until she looked more closely.

“YOU DO NOT BLONG!” Savannah read while peering over the rim of her aunt’s purple-framed reading glasses. There was a crude drawing of a skull and bones under the wording.
Blong?
Savannah pondered
. Oh, Belong. “You Do Not Belong.” What does that mean?

“What’s taking you so long, Vannie?” her aunt called from the kitchen. “Your coffee’s cold now.”

“I’m coming, Auntie,” she replied while placing the strange note back into the corner of the drawer.

She was still subdued and solemn as she entered the large kitchen, so was taken aback when her aunt began to chuckle. “Hmmm, they actually look good on you,” she said. “Where did you find them?”

“Oh.” Savannah stopped and shook her head slightly, attempting to regain her bearings. She’d have to ask her aunt about the note, later. Definitely, she would do that. There had to be an explanation. “Your glasses…” She lifted them off her face and handed them to her aunt. “Rags put them in your lingerie drawer.”

“Ragsdale…” Margaret scolded. “What are we going to do with you? I have enough trouble keeping track of things without you moving them about. Max, in all of your wanderings with cats, have you ever known a klepto?”

“Yes, one.” His ruggedly chiseled face took on a pensive look. “She belonged to my ex-wife. She once stole my wallet and I never did find that sucker. I had to cancel my credit cards and get a new driver’s license...and maybe it wasn’t the cat at all, but Rebecca capitalizing on the cat’s behavior. Before that, all Miss Kitty took was jewelry, tea bags, and Post-its.” He started to laugh and then said, “She had a fixation with the fax machine. When she’d hear it ring, she’d run in there and wait for the fax to roll out.” He became animated as he continued, “She loved paper. If we weren’t around to stop her, she would carry the fax off and shred it.” Max took a swig of coffee then set his cup down before saying, “The cat had some endearing qualities, but Elmer and I were not all that sad to see either her or my ex-wife go.”

“Elmer?” Savannah asked, while dropping dollops of cat food from a can on two little plates.

“The other family cat,” he explained.

After putting the cats’ breakfast on their placemat, Savannah tasted her coffee and then headed for the microwave to warm it up. She picked up the carafe and offered a refill to Margaret and her guest.

“Just a little,” Max said.

“So tell me, Max, where do your cats come from? Are they strays? Do you work with local shelters or cat colonies?”

“See, I told you she was savvy about rescue operations,” Margaret boasted. “She’s a veterinarian, you know.”

Savannah placed the carafe back on the warmer with her right hand while waving her left one in front of her attempting to erase what her aunt had just said. “Not a practicing one, yet.” She took her cup out of the microwave, then turned and leaned against the kitchen counter. “I work in a large clinic in Los Angeles as a tech.”

Max nodded and smiled. “Cool. Do you specialize or is it an all-animal clinic?”

“We have a variety of patients—dogs, rabbits, iguanas, boas—you name it. Personally, I’m partial to the cats.” Savannah twirled a few loose strands of her hair around her index finger. She then added, “I adore horses, but not so much from a medical perspective—more as a rider or handler. If I had the land, I could see myself opening a horse-rescue facility.”

Max chuckled. “Now there’s an ambitious goal.” He looked over at Margaret. “Can you imagine cleaning up after a dozen or so horses every day and trying to teach them manners in order to make them adoptable?”

“Well, I’ll tell ya, there are days when it seems like we’re cleaning up after horses and there are some cats that come with some mighty big challenges,” Margaret reminded him.

The trio remained silent, all eyes on Rags, who was cleaning himself up after his meal.

“Why are you standing, Vannie? Sit down. Relax,” Margaret insisted. “We have a big day—er…week ahead.”

“Well, Auntie, someone has taken over my chair and her name could be Goldilocks,” Savannah cooed as she peered into Layla’s sweet face as the little cat licked one of her paws and rubbed it over her ear.

She reached down and began scratching the little cat under the chin. Once Layla was completely relaxed—eyes closed, chin raised and purring ever so softly—someone else joined in. Rags reached up and rested his paws on the chair seat, watching the resident cat with interest. Savannah lifted him away from the chair. “Okay, down you go, Ragsy. Let’s sit over here, shall we, boy?” She pulled out an empty chair and sat down. Rags continued to stare at Layla.

“Max has a way with cats,” Margaret interjected. “I’ve seen him take wild ones and domesticate them into pets. It’s uncanny watching him work. He’s our very own cat whisperer. Maybe he can whisper in Ragsdale’s ear and change his thieving ways,” she said while laughing out loud.

Max reached out to smooth the cat’s fur as he sauntered past on quiet paws. “I wouldn’t change a thing about this guy. He’s one-of-a-kind—so confident and curious. He seems to be interested in everything and everyone around him.”

“Yes, he doesn’t miss much. Likes to be in the loop. I give him outdoor time at home in order to help him burn off some of that energy. Otherwise, he keeps me awake at night racing around the room, bouncing on the bed, playing with things and breaking things.” Savannah chuckled. “I’ve had to Rags-proof my apartment since acquiring him because he was so bent on reorganizing it.”

“How does he get along with the neighbors?” When Savannah looked puzzled, Max explained, “I mean him being a cat burglar and all…”

“Oh that. Well, I do spend many weekends walking around the neighborhood with a basket full of stuffed toys, sunglasses, bikini tops and bottoms, pencils, gloves, kids’ shoes, socks—just about anything he can carry. The funny thing is, he walks along with me as if helping me find the rightful owners. Yes, he is a kick. Keeps me laughing.”

Savannah leaned toward Max. “You must smile a lot in your line of work—finding homes for so many stray and feral cats. What a satisfying pastime.”

“Yeah, they aren’t all warm fuzzy success stories,” Max admitted with a hint of melancholy. “But we do all we can to place each of them in forever homes.”

“And he keeps some of the cats, don’t you? You’ve had Sammy and Grizwold forever.”

“Yes,” Max responded, “and Missy, Gretchen and Big Boy. They’re all virtually unadoptable. Missy’s almost blind, Gretchen never did become gentle enough, even to work as a barn cat. Plus she isn’t much of a hunter, so would not survive long. Big Boy and Grizwold—well, I grew too attached to part with them. They are good for the cats we bring in. They mentor those that need a good role model in the behavior department. Sammy’s disabled.” Max grinned and said as if sharing a secret, “Just don’t tell him that. He gets around on two paws every bit as well as any able cat.”

He took a sip of coffee and then asked Savannah, “How long will you be here? Maybe you’d like to come over and see the place.”

“I’d love to,” Savannah gushed. “I’ll be here for as long as Aunt Marg needs me.” She smiled toward her aunt, saying, “…a week or ten days, maybe, if she can put up with Rags and me.”

“Or vice-versa.” Margaret smiled. Her demeanor then took on a more serious tone. “Max, speaking of challenges with cats, how did things go at the emergency meeting last night? Have any of the cats been found?”

“I’m afraid not,” Max said, leaning back in his chair. He let out a long sigh. “We seem to be at a dead end with that situation.” He looked hard at Margaret. “I’m really concerned.” He then glanced over at Savannah and asked, “Has your aunt told you what’s going on?”

Margaret was quick to respond, “Not yet. We’ll have a little talk later today.”

Promptly, Max stood, drained his coffee cup, and walked over to the kitchen counter to set it down. “Thanks for the coffee and the visit.” He nodded in the direction of the ladies as he made his way toward the side kitchen door. “I have work to do—I want to make sure that Glen and Becky get the pens washed out with bleach. We had a suspected case of feline leukemia come in yesterday. Someone put a kitten in a common pen instead of isolation. I think it was one of our new volunteers.” He started to leave and then turned. “Oh Maggie, can you and Savannah still pick up the kittens at the vet this afternoon?”

“Sure, Max. We’ll be there after two. Okay with you, Vannie?”

Savannah’s voice oozed with enthusiasm, “Kittens? Absolutely!”

“Great, then you’ll be able to tour the place,” Max said with a wide smile. “See you later,” he called over his shoulder as he started to open the door to leave. But, he hesitated. “Hey there, big guy, I don’t think they want you outside.”

Savannah jumped up and darted toward the cat, who was rubbing himself against Max’s legs. She picked him up. “Rags, no you don’t. Goodbye Max,” she said as the door closed. She gently tossed the cat out in front of her and watched him trot off. “Hmmm, interesting man,” she said. She then turned to face her aunt and asked with an impish twinkle in her eye, “Is he the one you wear the silky lingerie for, Auntie?”

“Maybe and maybe not,” Margaret teased. “Hey, I have to see the doctor this morning. You don’t mind driving me do you? If the swelling has gone down enough, I might get a cast.”

Savannah rubbed her stomach. “What about breakfast? I’m getting hungry. Can I fix you something?”

Margaret pushed herself away from the table. “I’ll treat you at my favorite place downtown. How about that?”

“Okay. Here, let me help you.” Savannah took hold of the handles on the back of the wheelchair and started to push her aunt out of the kitchen.

“Ooooomph! Rags!” Margaret scolded as the cat jumped up on her lap and sat down ready for the ride. “Now that’s one lazy cat.” Both women laughed out loud.

***

“So things went well with your doctor, Auntie?”

“Yes, I’m thankful I don’t need surgery. The thought of having a pin rammed into my bone turns my stomach.” Margaret shuddered, as she rested the crutches next to her against the plastic booth seat.

“Well, if you continue to do what the doctor orders, you’ll most certainly avoid that discomfort. So take advantage of me while I’m here. No monkey business,” Savannah warned good naturedly.

“Whatever do you mean—I’ve been good, haven’t I?” The older woman looked coyly at her niece.

“Surprisingly, so far,” Savannah agreed. “But you do have a reputation, you know.”

Margaret opened her mouth to protest when the server appeared with menus and a pot of coffee. “This conversation is not over,” Margaret threatened from across the table in a hushed voice.

“Hi Maggie, what happened to you? You were on all twos when I saw you at the auction last week.”

“Good morning, Iris. I’m afraid I broke something in my foot a couple of days ago while out in the yard. Didn’t seem like a big deal at the time, but x-rays showed a fracture. So my niece, Vannie, drove up from LA to help me get around.”

“Oh, nice.” She paused and then said, “I mean, Sorry to hear about the accident, but nice to have a visitor because of it. Hey wait,” the waitress stared at Savannah and pointed in her direction with a menu, “aren’t you Gladys’s and Ted’s daughter?”

“Yes,” Savannah said, obviously surprised.

“This is Savannah. Savannah, Iris and I went to school together many years ago,” Margaret explained.

“Hi. You know my family?”

“Hell yes. Didn’t everyone? I think every teen in town worked for your father’s company and his father’s before that for at least three generations. Those Jordans helped to give many a kid work-ethic training and spending money.” She looked down and shook her head. “It was a shame when your dad sold the company. It never held the same values again.”

Savannah was touched by the waitress’s genuine display of remorse. Before she could comment, Iris perked up and said, “I remember when you and your sister used to come in here for lunch with your dad now and then.” An inquisitive look on her face, she asked, “Are you the vet or the doc?”

“I work as a vet tech in a large animal hospital,” Savannah said trying not to sound like she was apologizing for not running her own practice, yet.

“Order up!” someone shouted from the window behind the counter.

Iris twisted her body in that direction. “Oh, that’s me.” She quickly laid the menus on the table and asked, “Coffee?”

“Uh, I think I’ll have a glass of orange juice—and water, too, please,” Savannah said.

“Coffee for me,” Margaret stated. “With cream.”

As Iris walked away, Savannah asked—a puzzled look on her face, “Cream?”

“Sometimes yes and sometimes no.” She leaned in toward her niece and whispered, “The coffee here’s strong. I have to cut it with something and they don’t serve hard liquor.” Margaret sat back, picked up her menu and gave it a quick look. “By the way, I recommend the blueberry waffles.”

“Fresh blueberries?”

“Yeowza, picked this morning—or maybe yesterday…”

“Mmmm, sounds good. That’s what I’ll have, then.”

“Me, too
.
” Margaret placed her menu on the table edge. She then looked across at her niece in a piercing stare and demanded to know, “Now what do you mean I have a reputation? Who says?”

“Oh, your older sister, your younger sister, Uncle Ray…” Savannah started.

“Baloney. They’re just a bunch of fuddy-duddies with no sense of adventure.”

Margaret had always been the most daring of the three sisters. Even her brother, who was four years older, couldn’t match her bravado as a child.

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” Savannah patronized. “They’re just a bunch of fuddy-duddies.” She then leaned toward her aunt, her demeanor more serious. “So what’s up with the group Max was talking about? What were you going to tell me later?”

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