Free Cat-Eye Witness (A Klepto Cat Mystery) by Patricia Fry

gestures—or was it the actual words or Savannah’s thoughts?—when she indicated that it was okay for him to go out. She’d search for the cat and, in a sing-song voice, lure him toward the kitchen door—never the front door. She didn’t want him becoming accustomed to going out that way, lest he try to escape when someone visits. Although the house was set back on the property, this exit was closest to the road and the driveway and Savannah didn’t want him anywhere near traffic.
    “Come on, Ragsie, wanna go outside, sweetie?”
    She walked into her bedroom just in time to see him jump down from the bed. He trotted toward her, his tail high. Savannah smiled. “There you are—wanna go outside, huh?” she cooed. She walked through the living room and dining room toward the kitchen and Rags’s door to freedom. He trotted alongside her. She unlatched the door and propped it open. If something scares him, he can run into the house instead of up a tree or down the street, she thought. We do get vermin, as Auntie calls them. She chuckled to herself. She recalled, I have seen a few coyotes and some beautiful bobcats since I’ve been here.
    She knew that at fourteen pounds, Rags would present a challenge for most any owl, possum or raccoon, but the cat was not predator-wise. And that’s why he wasn’t allowed outside alone.
    Savannah smiled as she watched Rags stop at the open kitchen door and peer out—sniffing at what might lurk beyond the threshold. Apparently satisfied with what he sensed, he stepped out onto the porch and began exploring.
    “Hi Rags, old boy,” Michael said as the lanky grey-and-white cat came into view. Rags looked up at Michael and then strolled over and rubbed against his legs.
    “Come on Rags, let’s go out on the lawn and find something interesting,” Savannah urged.
    “Well that’s insulting,” Michael said feigning a dejected look. “You mean, I’m not interesting enough?”
    She couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, maybe to me, but Rags needs lizards, crickets and butterflies to chase.” She picked up the cat and carried him down the porch steps, placing him on the expansive lawn. Michael’s gaze followed her and he smiled. Gosh, I love that woman, he thought to himself before turning back to his newspaper.
    Savannah watched Rags crouch in the grass and slink over to the taller weeds along the edge of the manicured lawn. He darted in, out, over, and under bushes, flowers and shrubs, stopping once when a white cabbage butterfly caught his eye. Savannah laughed at the little head-bobble thing he did while trying to keep his eye on the flitting butterfly. He took a few steps and jumped at something either real or imaginary in one of the flower clumps.
    “Atta boy, Rags. Get some good exercise,” Savannah encouraged from where she sat on the lawn. Shoot, he seems to have forgotten that I even exist, she chuckled to herself. He’s in his own world now—a world of fascinating sights and sounds. Uh-oh, he’s getting a bit courageous . She stood and began to follow him across the lawn and around toward the south side of the house.”
    Oops, there goes my phone. She slid it out of her jeans pocket and squinted at the screen before putting it up to her ear. “Hi, Mom.”
    “Savannah, you said you were going to call me back.”
    “Oh, well, I was. I’m outside with Rags right now—following him around. Just got back from a late breakfast at the diner. What are you doing today?”
    “Well, I’m on pins and needles about the sheriff.”
    “The sheriff? What sheriff?”
    “Don’t play coy with me, Vannie. You know what I mean. Why were the cops at your house this morning?”
    Savannah knew she couldn’t keep it from her mother. Since the kidnapping ordeal with Joe Forster, Gladys had become even more protective of her older daughter. She was thrilled that Savannah had found happiness and was planning a future with a wonderful man, but the pain of almost losing her was still