Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 04 - Undercover Cat (21 page)

Colbi
smiled back. “What kind of memories?” she asked. “We would love to hear about some of them.”

Mary turned off the burner, leaned on the tree she used as a back for her shopping-cart chair and began reminiscing. “We used to have lunch in the park together on warm days. Every Thursday, a church group brought sandwiches and fruit to us. If it was cold or rainy, we’d find a place under the bridge or under an awning in back of a store. We’d eat and talk about how things used to be—her with her daughter on that ranch in Baton Rouge and me in my posh home with my heartless father.” She stared into space. “Oh I did have some fun as a child. I loved going to school where I could play with other kids. Those are my good memories.” She smiled, revealing a mouth full of rotting teeth.

“Beverly said I reminded her of her daughter,” she repeated. “I lost my mom when I was young. So we sorta felt like we needed each other—she could use a daughter and I sure wanted to have a mother.” She took a swig of something from a small leather flask she pulled out of her jacket pocket. “I had it all.” She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth and then continued, “…a beautiful home, nice clothes, a car. But none of that could take the pain away like partying, drugs, alcohol. By the time I was seventeen, I was on the streets. I lost it. Just like Beverly, I lost everything.”

She sat for a while with her thoughts, rocking back and forth in her jerry-rigged shopping cart chair. Finally she looked over at
Colbi and Damon through lifeless eyes, her drab blond hair lying limp alongside her puffy, round face. “Oh you didn’t come to hear about me and I don’t want to talk about my past.” She tightened her lips as if attempting to hold back the pain and then she said something that shocked her guests, “Did that man kill Beverly?”

Colbi
and Damon glanced over at one another. “What man is that, Mary?” Damon asked.

“The one that flew around in the night.”
She sat forward, arms on her knees, and said, “He’s a demon—maybe the devil himself. Beverly had every right to feed the animals and she had a right to the fruit that was on the ground and the vegetables that were going to be put in the compost pile. He told her she had no rights and that she needed to leave or he would make her leave.”

“Tell us about this man, Mary. Where did you see him?” Damon asked.

“Right out there where Beverly lived in that wooden room—her hut. She had it fixed up right nice, don’t you think? Did you see it?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She smiled. “She liked it when I came for meals with her. She was proud to serve fresh produce that didn’t come off someone’s restaurant plate.” She sat back and looked up into the trees that surrounded her home-site. “We had apples, lettuce, cabbage and even kale.” She looked over at the couple. “Kale is real good for you, you know. I don’t often get food that’s good for me. Oh, and she’d make coffee—real coffee from grounds that people threw away. Don’t folks know that you can use grounds again and again? The flavor’s still there—for a while, anyways.”

“When did you first see this man, Mary?”
Colbi asked.

“Um, what is today, Monday?
Tuesday?”

“It’s Wednesday,” Damon said.

“I think it was a week ago maybe. Oh, it was Thursday. I walked over to Beverly’s and stayed for a few days and that was Thursday and Friday, I do believe.” She looked across at them. “It’s hard to keep track without a calendar.”

Colbi
shifted her weight on the log. “You don’t have a calendar? How do you know when to go to the park for the lunches?”

“Oh a few people have cell phones here and they can remind us. There are calendars on cell phones, did you know that?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Damon said. Then he asked, “Did the man come over to Beverly’s place when you were there?”

“Oh no, she ran into him when she was out gathering her supplies for the animals…her and that cat.” She smiled again. “She had a big cat…I guess it was hers…he’d come around at night and walk with her while she found food for us and for the animals. She said Smokey was her nighttime friend. She never saw him during the day. But then, she stayed cooped up pretty much during the day, sleeping, you see.”

“Can you describe the man?” Colbi asked.

“What man?”

“The one you mentioned that threatened Beverly,” Damon clarified.

“Oh him.
He was kind of scary. I only saw him through the window that one time when he followed Beverly back to her hut. He didn’t’ know I was there. I saw his scary dark eyes, his sickly white skin and his coal-black hair. He covered himself up like some sort of Dracula—know what I mean?”

“Uh…”
Colbi started.

“Yeah, he wore all black. He was sort of dramatic in that cape; swirling it around him all theatrical like. Oh, and he had a cane, but I didn’t see him use it. He seemed to walk pretty
good. He just carried the cane. I wanted to see it close up. It was a purty thing. Black and shiny.” She motioned with her hands as she said, “There was this gold decoration on top of it.” She thought for a minute, before saying, “I’ll bet Sal, over at the pawn shop, would give eighty bucks for that thing.”

“Mary, do you think he could have killed your friend?” Damon asked.

She started to tear up—she wiped at her eyes. “Hell, I don’t know. I don’t know why anyone would want to hurt Beverly. She was such a kind person, and trusting. I always felt like she needed me because she was so small like a child and childlike in her ways…if you know what I mean. What’s the word? Naïve.”

Damon rested his elbows on his knees; clasped his hands together. “If we give you a ride into town, would you be willing to describe the man to our friend Detective Sledge and maybe look at some pictures to see if you can identify him?”

“Just show me a bill from an old Dracula movie—that’s him,” she said, laughing. She thought for a minute, looked from one to the other of her guests. “What’s in it for me?”

“Well,” Damon said, “you might be helping to catch Beverly’s killer.”

There was little response from Mary.

“
Colbi asked, “Where’s your favorite place to eat? We could go there for the meeting and buy you lunch.”

Her eyes lit up. “I’ve always wanted to eat at that Mexican restaurant on 10
th
Street.”

“Fine.
We can arrange that,” Colbi said. She then turned to Damon. “Do you want to see if you can make an appointment with the detective?”

Damon stood, pulled his cell phone out of his jeans pocket, and walked down the path away from Mary’s camp.

Colbi watched him for a moment and then turned back to Mary. “Why are you so far from the others?” she asked.

Mary took in a breath and smacked her lips a few times. “Well, I like people all right. I have friends—like Beverly—but I have this problem with commune living. I want my space—always have and that hasn’t changed now that I’m here in this camp.”

“How’s tomorrow at noon?” Damon asked, still holding the phone in his hand.

Mary looked from Damon to
Colbi, glanced to one side, raised her eyebrows, flicked something off her arm, looked down, and then asked, “I can order whatever I want?”

“Sure can,” Damon said.

She looked up at him and smiled. “Yeah. Okay then. Noon tomorrow. And you’ll come here and pick me up?”

Damon spoke into the phone, “We’ll meet you at El
Ranchito at noon tomorrow, Craig.

’Bye.”

In the meantime,
Colbi said to Mary, “We’ll pick you up wherever you want.”

She thought about it for a moment and then said, “How about at the gas station on Market. I’ll be there in the morning. I’ll wait there for you, okay?”

“Yes,” Colbi said. “Perfect.” She stood up. “We’ll see you about fifteen minutes before noon.” She started to follow Damon down the path, but turned and walked back toward the woman. She put out her hand. “Thank you, Mary for your hospitality. Again, I’m sorry for your loss. It must be hard for you.”

Mary stood, hesitated and then let
Colbi shake her limp hand.

The next morning around nine forty-five, Michael called out, “Adam’s here,” as he rushed to the front door to welcome his son, his former wife, and her new family. “Hi buddy,” he said as he scooped the eight-year-old up into his arms and spun around the room with him, making airplane sounds.

Adam giggled.

Just then, Savannah walked into the living room. She glanced at her husband and his son and then looked over at Marci and Eric, rolling her eyes. “I don’t think he ever grew up,” she said with a laugh. “Please, come in.” She gave Marci a hug, greeted Eric with a smile, and then reached over and tickled little Rose on the tummy, and watched her giggle. “Sit down, if you dare,” she said. “We have low-flying aircraft in here this morning.”

“Hi Savannah,” Adam said, once Michael had set him down on the floor.

“Hi honey,” she responded, reaching out and putting her arms around him.

The boy hugged her around the neck and then stepped back, looked at her tummy, and said, “Whoa.” He looked up at her. “It’s getting big. Is it a brother or a sister?”

“Still don’t know,” she said with a smile. She then addressed Marci and Eric, “Coffee anyone? I also made iced tea.”

“Do you have any horse toast today?” Adam asked.

Savannah stooped over, put her hands on his shoulders, and said, “No, but I have something better.”

“What?” he asked in anticipation.

“Horse cookies and cocoa. Sound good?”

“Yeah!”
Adam shouted.

“Adam, honey,” Marci said, “let’s not use your outside voice in the house, okay?”

He glanced down. “Okay,” he said quietly.

“Adam, why don’t you and I go
get the horse cookies? Okay?” Savannah suggested.

“Yeah,” he said more quietly this time.

Savannah looked over at Marci and Eric again. “So what can I get you to drink?”

“Got enough of that hot chocolate?” Eric asked.

“Sure do.”

“I’ll just have water,” Marci said.

“Can Rose have cocoa?” Savannah asked.

Marci winced.

“I’ll go get her sippy cup,” Eric said.

Marci smiled over at him. “Good idea, babe.” She turned toward Savannah, saying, “Then yes, I guess it’s safe for her to have cocoa.”

“Look, Mom, palomino horse cookies, pinto horse cookies and even a pony cookie for Rosie. Here, Rose,” he said handing her a small cookie shaped like a horse with a frosting mane and tail. “I’m having the…which one is this, Dad?” he asked holding up one of the cookies.

“Buckskin.
See the dark legs, mane, and tail and the dark stripe going down his back?”

“Yeah, buckskin,” Adam repeated.

“Looks like that one has the most frosting,” Marci said with a laugh.

Adam looked sheepish while continuing to lick at the chocolate frosting.

“Hello everyone,” Colbi said as she entered the room. She looked over at the boy who was sitting on the couch next to his mother. “You must be Adam.”

“Yeah…I mean, yes,” he said.

“I’m Colbi and I have something here you might like to play with today.”

“What?” he asked.

She opened her cardigan sweater and watched as Adam’s eyes grew wide.

“A kitten!” he exclaimed. He set his half-eaten cookie on a napkin Savannah had set on the coffee table and rushed toward
Colbi and Dolly. “Where did you get it—did Rags have kittens?”

“No, but he thinks this is his kitten,” she said with a laugh. She sat down on the ottoman and placed the kitten in her lap. “This kitty got lost and found her way to my house where I feed a lot of lost cats. Most of them are kind of wild…”

Adam looked up at Colbi, ran his little hand over the kitten’s fur, and asked, “Is she a feral cat? Aunt Maggie and Uncle Max have feral cats.”

“Could be,”
Colbi said. “But this one sure likes people. Want to hold her?”

“Yeah!”
Adam said enthusiastically. “She’s so small. Look Savannah, I can hold her and her feet don’t even drag on the floor like Rags’s feet do.”

Savannah smiled and winked.

“She’s soft,” he said as he rubbed his cheek against her fur. Dolly stretched toward Adam so she could smell his face. “Hey, she’s licking me,” he said, laughing.

“I think she tastes that cookie you were eating,”
Colbi explained. She stood up and introduced herself to Marci and Eric. She spoke to four-year-old Rose and then she excused herself. “I’m working with someone on a computer project today. He’s probably wondering where I ran off to.” She looked over at the boy. He was sitting down with the kitten on his lap, moving the string to his sweatshirt hood and watching the kitten bat at it. “Adam,” she said, “since I’ll be working today, would you like to entertain Dolly?”

His face lit up into a smile. “Sure!” he said. He looked over at Michael and Savannah. “Can I?” he asked.

“Sure can,” Michael answered.

After Marci, Eric, and Rose had left, Adam asked if he could take Rags for a walk.

Savannah nodded. “Good idea. He hasn’t been out for a while. It’s probably time for Dolly’s nap. Shall we go put her to bed so we know she’s safe while we go outside?”

Once they had tucked Dolly in, Adam ran to retrieve
Rags’s harness and leash. He got help putting them on the cat and the three of them walked outside with Rags in tow. Lexie trailed along, as well.

“Hey where’s he going?” Adam asked as the trio followed the cat. Rags tugged on the leash, pulling Adam out through the corral and into the orchard.

“I don’t know. I guess he wants to explore. Exploring is fun,” Michael said.

“Yeah.
But he’s pulling me. My arm’s getting tired.”

“Want me to take him?” Michael asked.

“Naw. I can do it,” Adam said.

Before they knew it, Rags had led them through the orchard and onto the
Tindles’ property. When they reached the little wooden shed, Rags stopped and sat down. He looked over at the shed and cocked his head. He then got up and, with Adam following along behind holding the leash, he walked over to the other side of the shed and stood up with his paws on the door.

“He wants in,” Adam said. “What’s in there, anyway, Rags? You never brought me out here before,” he said looking around.

“No, I’ve never seen him out here, either, “Savannah said. “I wonder what he’s looking for?”

“I don’t know,” Michael said, but I don’t feel right trespassing on old man
Tindle’s property. I think we’d better lead him back over to his own yard, okay, Adam?”

***

In the meantime, upstairs in Colbi’s room, where she was working with Jason—a tech guy from the sheriff’s office, she shouted, “Bingo! Those are definitely some of the cats in these pictures we got from the shelter—those that were rescued from the fire at the hoarders’ place.”

Jason said, “Well, it looks as though they’re up and running again and using photos from their earlier scams.” He changed position, looked over at
Colbi and said, “Now, to dig for the information we need to pinpoint their whereabouts; let’s just hope it isn’t a public place.”

“Wait!”
Colbi shouted. “Go back a couple of frames. I want to get a look at that guy.”

“What guy?” he asked.

Colbi watched as Jason flipped through some still shots and some video, then she said, “There! Stop!” She leaned in and studied the image of the man holding up a scrawny cat for the camera. “Black hair—probably dyed—dark eyes, heavy brows, and pale white skin. He’s dressed all in black. Ewwww. Looks creepy. I wouldn’t want to meet him in an alley at night—or anywhere else, for that matter.”

“Yeah, he’s kind of Old-World—like an old English cop…”

“Or Dracula-like,” she said. “What’s that?”

“Where?”
Jason asked.

“In the corner behind him, over near that other cat.
It’s a walking stick, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, looks rather ornate. Unusual.”

“Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed. Her voice was only slightly raspy now, especially when she spoke loudly or used a high pitch. “I think he might be the killer!”

“Really?”
Jason said.

“What time is it, Jason?” She looked at her watch.
“Oh, eleven fifteen. Damon will be here to get me in a few minutes. Can you print that out? I think Savannah has a color printer in her office. I hear them downstairs; let me go ask if we can use it.”

In a few moments,
Colbi picked up the house phone and placed a call to Jason, who was still upstairs. She laughed into the phone and said, “Hey, I’m not supposed to be going up and down stairs more than necessary, so how about if you email the photo to
[email protected]
. I’ll go turn on the printer and meet you here at the bottom of the stairs. We’ll print the picture out from Savannah’s computer.”