Free Catnapped (A Klepto Cat Mystery) by Patricia Fry Page A

you cover the hole with a piece of wood or canvas, please? We don’t want the cats getting out.” Or anything or anyone to get in, she thought.
    ***
    Two hours later, Savannah looked up from the magazine she was reading and noticed her aunt hobbling into the living room on her crutches. “Are you feeling more rested?” she asked.
    Margaret lowered herself into her favorite chair. “Yeah, I’m still a little tired—not used to these things,” she said, nodding toward the crutches. “And we did cover quite a bit of ground today.” Layla was stretched in the middle of the ottoman, as usual. “Scootch, Sweetie,” Margaret cooed as she shifted the relaxed cat over a few inches to make room for her foot. She then lifted her leg using both hands and rested it next to the purring feline. “Ahhhh,” she said as she leaned back in the chair. “I could get used to a cat’s lifestyle—sleep, eat, lounge, sleep, eat, nap... And then there’s all that petting,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
    Savannah laughed. “I doubt that, Auntie. You’re too much of an on-the-go-lady. By the way,” Savannah cleared her throat before saying, “something arrived for you today.”
    “By UPS?”
    “No.” Savannah winced slightly. “You could say it came by air.”
    “What are you talking about?” Margaret insisted, leaning slightly forward.
    “Someone hurled a rock through your kitchen window.”
    Margaret pressed her lips together—a look of disgust on her face. After a few moments of silence, she said, “Well, damn.”
    “And there was a note on it.”
    “A note?” the older woman said flatly.
    “Yes, like the one I found in your lingerie drawer this morning. It said, ‘Get Out!’ in big black letters.”
    Margaret stared down at her hands as they lay in her lap.
    “What’s going on, Auntie?” Savannah asked quietly with a hint of tenderness in her voice. “Who wants you out? Does this have to do with the cat situation?”
    “Oh no, I don’t think so. But I can’t be sure,” she said with some hesitation. Margaret looked over at her niece and then began to speak. “The notes started coming a few weeks ago. What do they mean? I don’t know. I haven’t heard of any big-time investors interested in this land—if I had, I might just sell for the right price, actually. They wouldn’t have to badger me,” she quipped. “I’ve spoken rather discreetly with others around here. As far as I can discover, no one else is getting any messages like this.”
    Savannah studied her aunt for a moment and then asked, “How did the other note arrive—also by rock?”
    “No. I came in from a meeting one evening and found it on my bed. I must have shoved it into my lingerie drawer that night in case I needed it at some point as evidence for the sheriff. And when Helena moved my stuff down to the ground floor bedroom after I broke my damn foot, I guess she unknowingly transferred the note.”
    “How did someone get in?” Savannah asked.
    “I don’t know. Maybe Helena inadvertently left a door unlocked that day when she finished here. Or maybe someone came in while she was cleaning. It’s a big house, if she was vacuuming downstairs, someone could slip right in and run upstairs to my bedroom.”
    “Did you question Helena?” Savannah asked.
    “A little. I didn’t want to startle the woman for no good reason.”
    Savannah looked at her aunt for a solid minute without speaking—not quite knowing what to say or what to think. Finally she asked, “Have there been other notes or threats?”
    It was obvious that Margaret was uncomfortable talking about this. She wanted, instead, to focus on the upcoming meeting and the work they were trying to do on behalf of the community’s cat population. She also knew that she owed some sort of explanation to her guest. After all, if she was in danger, so was Savannah for as long as she stayed under her roof. Finally, she took a deep breath and, with some effort, she said,