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

raw.
    “Mom,” Savannah finally said into the phone, “someone was a murdered yesterday.”
    “What? Who? Where?” Gladys shouted into the phone.
    “It was no one we knew. It happened at the fundraiser. We’re all just fine. There’s an investigation going on and we’re helping the sheriff with it, that’s all. Michael and I are just fine, so is your sister.”
    “Oh my God, Savannah! A murder in Hammond? Where, honey? Where did it happen? Wasn’t the fundraiser at Maggie’s home? Where you live? Oh no—Vannie…don’t tell me…”
    “Well…” Savannah grimaced. “Yes, Mom. I’m living at a crime scene.” She chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.
    “That’s awful,” Gladys said. “There was a killer at your house and he’s still on the loose? Oh, Vannie, you shouldn’t be staying there. Can’t you move in with someone? You could come home. That’s a good idea, why don’t you pack up and come home for a while?”
    “Mom, I’m fine,” Savannah insisted. “Really, I am. Remember, I’m a big girl. Michael is with me and I have friends… Oh, Mom, I have to go. Rags is wandering away and I need to head him off. Love you, Mom. Please don’t worry.”
    “I love you, too, Vannie. Stay in touch, will you?” Before Savannah could hang up, Gladys added, “And let me know when you set that wedding date. Soon, I hope.”
    “Sure will, Mom.”
    Looks like Rags wants to investigate the area inside the yellow tape, she thought as she pushed the phone back into her pocket. She watched as he slowed his pace and walked cautiously toward the ladder that still lay on the ground partially hidden by shrubs. Cats have a way of noticing when there’s something out of place. Savannah smiled. He’s never seen that ladder. It’s usually in one of the sheds. I suppose I shouldn’t let him walk around in there—it is part of the crime scene, after all. But what’s to stop neighborhood cats from going in there or wild animals? she reasoned. It’s probably okay.
    Suddenly, Rags disappeared under a large azalea bush and Savannah noticed the plant begin to vibrate. “What are you doing, Rags?” She could see him peering out from under the bush and it looked as if he was pawing at something. She walked over to him. Hmmm, that’s strange, she thought. He’s digging in some soft dirt at the base of the shrub . It looks like someone dug a hole here then covered it up. She examined the rest of the ground in the area—the dirt was smooth and compact.
    Savannah looked around. Off to the left, she spotted one of the gardener’s shovels stuck blade-first in a raised garden bed. She looked back at the cat in time to see him starting to squat. “Oh no, Rags—I don’t think you should do that …” But it was too late; Hmm, perfect litter box, she thought. “Come on Rags. You’d better stay out of here. We might get in trouble.” She scooped the cat up in her arms and walked away with him, but not before making a mental note: I wonder if I should tell the detective about the loose dirt. She sloughed it off, thinking, Oh, it’s probably nothing. Maybe it happened when Juan stood the ladder there to climb up and wash the windows. Or Antonio loosened the soil around the plant for some reason. Could be a gopher hole.
    ***
    Iris heard a knock on the door and looked up at the plastic wall clock above the refrigerator. Five o’clock. The detective is prompt , she thought as she dried her hands on a terry kitchen towel, I hope this goes fast. I just want this to be over with before…
    She pulled open the front door. “Hello, Detective,” she said flatly. “Come in.” She considered offering him some of the coffee she’d just made, but didn’t want him to have a reason to linger; wanted him to leave just as quickly as possible. After motioning for him to sit on a straight-back chair against the wall, she perched on the seat of one across the room. She picked up the remote from the arm of a faded, worn