Catnapped (A Klepto Cat Mystery) (5 page)

“East Birch,” Margaret repeated while watching him put the glove back on.

“Yes,” he said, reaching for another bag. He then remembered something and straightened up to face Margaret. “Oh, and she has a couple of flags flying with cats on them. She really likes cats.” He grabbed the next bag and stacked it, saying, “But you know that since she’s a friend.”

“Yes, we met at a cat writers’ convention,” Margaret lied.

“Well, if you see her, would you tell her the cat food she likes is on sale? I know she’ll want to stock up.”

“Oh, is that right? How about if I buy some and take it to her? She’ll like that, won’t she?” Margaret asked.

“Sure, I guess. It’s this feed over here,” he said walking down the aisle toward a large display of cat food. “She buys the fifty-pound bags.”

“Can you load two twenty-five-pound bags in the car—Savannah would you open the back? I’ll go pay up front. Thank you…” Margaret looked at the young man’s name tag. “Jason. Thanks a lot, Jason.”

***

Margaret pointed up the street. “It must be the two-story up there on the left. I see flags. And, oh, there are cats on the porch. Hmmm, she lets them out? That’s kind of unusual for a hoarder. But they come in all sizes, shapes and flavors, I guess.”

“So how do you expect to get in, Auntie?” Savannah wondered.

“You just watch me. I can talk my way in. Maybe I’ll pretend to be an employee of the pet store. How about that?”

“I mean, how are you going to get up those steep stairs on your crutches? And what employee of a pet store is going to deliver something in your condition?” she said with a smirk.

Margaret snapped her fingers. “Drats. Didn’t think of that. Oh wait. Maybe that’s her over by the side of the house. Looks like she’s trying to lure cats out from under the porch.” In a burst of excitement, Margaret promptly opened the car door, set the tips of her crutches on the ground, and edged forward until she was standing on her good foot. Savannah was already there to give her a hand. Margaret was doing pretty well on the crutches, but getting out of a car or up from furniture was strenuous for her. Besides, she had the extra nuisance of a new cast on her foot and the uneven terrain in this yard.

As soon as she was standing, Margaret called out, “Hello there! Hello! Are you Ms. Lipton?”

The diminutive woman stood and peered around the corner of the house. “Yes,” she said softly.

“I’m Margaret and this is Savannah from the Hammond Cat Alliance. We heard that you were feeding a lot of cats and we wanted to help with that. We brought a couple of bags of food.”

“Well, how nice of you,” the woman said, an inquisitive look on her face. “You’re from where? How did you find out about my cats?”

“Hammond Cat Alliance. We’re all about helping cats. And it looks like that’s what you’re doing here. Look at that beauty!” Margaret nodded toward a striking calico shorthair on the top step of the porch. “Absolutely regal. And isn’t he handsome?” She pointed a crutch in the direction of three cats sunning themselves on the wide porch. You obviously take good care of them,” Margaret said generously.
Unless these cats are in good shape when you steal them,
she thought to herself.

“How nice of you to say that. Not everyone likes cats, you know. I have neighbors who complain about them,” she said shaking her head in disbelief. And then she perked up and asked, “Would you like to come in and see the others? I can fix us a cup of tea.”

Margaret smiled. “That would be lovely, Ms. Lipton. But I don’t think I can manage those stairs on these things.” She nodded toward the crutches. “…unless you have another way in.”

“It’s Dora,” she offered. “Yes, come around this way. We can go in on the ground floor. We should see most of the cats in that area, anyway.” Margaret noticed that the woman didn’t seem as feeble as she did upon first acknowledging them. Perhaps she was eager to have human company. Or maybe she just enjoyed showing off her cats.

Savannah walked to the back of the car and took out one bag of cat food. She called after Dora, “Where do you want this?”

“We’d better bring it in the house and put it in the pantry. Any bag of food left out is fair game for naughty cats, if you know what I mean,” she said with a chuckle. Dora motioned for the women to walk ahead of her and then she edged over to the far side of the front yard and began clapping her hands together gently, saying, “Come on kitties—time to go inside. Boomer, Lily, Bramble, Smokey—treat time.”

As if they understood every word she said, all four of the porch cats scurried down from their sunny perch and scampered along the pathway. After pushing through a kitty door flap at the left of the ground-floor door, the foursome disappeared into the house.

“Wow, that’s impressive,” Savannah said as they walked through the door into the kitchen. “Are all of your cats that obedient?”

“Oh my, no!” Dora laughed as she rushed to place a plastic cover over the kitty door. She then walked across the kitchen toward another door which led to the rest of the downstairs area. “Some of the others will want to make your acquaintance, I’m sure. It’s okay if they come in, isn’t it?” she asked before turning the knob.

“Of course,” the two women said in unison.

“Where do you want this?” Savannah asked, referring to the bag of cat food she held in her arms.

“In here, dear.” Dora, who now seemed more wiry and agile than fragile and frail, motioned toward the pantry. She then rushed over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair. “Please sit down…Margaret, is it?”

“Yes, thank you,” Margaret said as she eased into the straight-back chair.

Savannah looked around in the oversized pantry. “Gosh, you do have a lot of cat supplies on hand, don’t you?”

“I try to keep stocked up. I never know when I’ll be receiving more fur kids,” she said with a laugh. “And I take advantage of sales and coupons.”

“So how do you get the cats? Where do they come from?” Margaret blurted, eager to nail the culprit in the catnapping.

As Dora filled the teakettle with water and set it on the stove, she explained, “Well, some are strays. Some are remnants of cat-hoarder situations. You know how it is.” She turned to face her guests. “Once people know you can’t turn a cat away, they tend to take advantage of you. In fact, I’m afraid I’ll have to say no to some cats in the near future. I hear there’s a hoarder not too far away from here. Animal control has been monitoring the situation, and it doesn’t look good. It appears that they’ll soon be placing the healthier cats when they close this couple down and my space and energy are so limited.”

“Do you often let the cats out in front?” Savannah asked as she joined her aunt at the table.

“No. Only those four you saw outside just now can come out with me while I garden or enjoy lemonade on the porch.” She pushed her dark-rimmed glasses up on her nose with an index finger. “I was hoping they would help me catch a sweet little girl who found her way under my porch. I’ve been trying to lure her out so I can check her over and decide what to do with her. She was just about to walk toward the saucer of milk when…”

“Oh we scared her back in? I’m sorry.” Margaret grimaced. “Maybe we can help you draw her out before we leave.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dora said, waving a hand in the air. “I spend my life working with cats and they each have a way of their own. I think I was put on this planet to learn patience, because it sure takes a big dose of it when you live with cats.” She looked over at her guests and asked, “Do you ladies have cats?”

“Yes,” Margaret said. “Both of us have rescue cats. But there was a time when I had eleven cats. I just couldn’t stop bringing them home or letting them stay when they showed up on my property. Know what I mean?”

“I sure do.” Dora reached over, took three teabags out of a porcelain container, and dropped them into the pot of hot water.

“So do you have anyone helping you with your cats?” Margaret wondered.

“Oh yes. I couldn’t manage them alone. A couple of my friends volunteer here nearly every day and I have a dear child who works with me three afternoons a week.” She glanced up at the kitchen clock while wiping her hands on her blue paisley apron. “In fact, Charlotte should be arriving just about any time.”

Margaret looked around the room. “Well, you would never know you have multiple cats in here. How many are there?”

“Hmmmm, the number changes,” Dora said as she considered how to respond.

Depending on how many you steal in any given week?
Margaret imagined.

“If I’m talking to the police or a snoopy neighbor, it may be eight or nine, tops. But between us cat people, I sometimes peak at twenty-five. A more realistic number is probably around a dozen to fifteen. I turn them over if I can. I don’t keep all of those that come to me.”

“So you are running a cat-rescue facility, then?” Savannah asked.

“Well, yes! Sort of. I do some fostering for other facilities in the area. I board cats. I’ve even been known to have a kitty daycare.” Dora smiled as she poured the hot tea into matching china cups with saucers. “Sugar and milk, right there.” She nodded toward a creamer and matching sugar bowl in the middle of the table and then set the tea pot on a hot pad. She lifted saran wrap off of a plate and said, “These are snickerdoodles. I made them yesterday. They’re pretty good. Not all of my culinary creations come out so good anymore. I’m out of practice.”

“You say you run a kitty daycare?” Savannah asked with obvious interest while moving a feather toy back and forth across the floor for a little black cat with round yellow eyes. “Cats come here for play dates?”

“You might say that. People sometimes feel bad leaving their cats alone all day while they’re at work. They may be too tired at night to give their cats the play workout they should be getting when they’ve been cooped up all day. So they bring kitty here where they have stimulation, activity, and company. Charlotte loves to play with the cats, and the owners get a better night’s sleep when some of their more rambunctious kitties have played all day.” Dora laughed.

Savannah noticed a kitty bed in pink and black cat-paw print fabric in a corner of the room. A tabby was curled up inside. “That is an absolutely adorable little bed.”

“Oh, I make those and sell them at bazaars and flea markets. My grandson is getting me set up to sell them on the Internet. I also make kitty toys, like these kickers,” she said as she picked up a tightly stuffed fabric toy. She tossed it in the direction of a half-grown tuxedo cat and he grabbed it, wrapped his paws around it and began kicking it with his back paws.

Everyone laughed.

Just then a dark long-haired tabby strolled over to Savannah and began sniffing her shoes. “Oh, that’s Tuffy,” Dora said. “His sister Taffy is the tabby in the bed over there. They’re boarders. The kitty up on the pedestal,” she said motioning toward a large wooden cat tree, “is Spunky. He’s one of mine. He’s sixteen now—doesn’t look it, does he? And Golden Boy is the pretty yellow fellow under the table in the corner. There’s Ruthie.” She pointed to a striking white cat. “Notice her odd eyes—one green and one blue.”

“They are wonderful,” Margaret said. “Beautiful and so well-cared for.”

“I just love cats. I need a little money to supplement my income in order to care for my own cats, so I offer these kitty items and services which means I get to know even more cats.” Her eyes danced as she spoke. “I work with the local shelter to find homes for those that are adoptable. That’s satisfying and also sad.” She lowered her head and said rather solemnly, “I get attached, you know.”

Margaret sat silent for a few moments observing Dora carefully, and then she asked, “Are you aware that someone has been stealing cats from people’s yards over in the new tracts near the old dump?”

“What? I didn’t know about that,” Dora said. “I don’t get out much. Right out of their yards?” And then she frowned. “There isn’t any dog-fighting going on is there?”

“It doesn’t seem as though there is,” Margaret said.

“Some sort of witchcraft rituals?” she offered.

“Gosh, we hope not. You haven’t had any problems over here, have you?”

Dora shook her head slowly. “Not that I know of.” She looked up at Margaret. “I think I would have heard something at the shelter if there was a problem here.”

Savannah stood up and walked toward the door. “I’ll bring that other bag of kibbles in.”

Margaret took that as a cue. She reached for her crutches and put them in position to raise herself up off the chair. “You’d think this would get easier. But my muscles just get sorer and sorer—right here, mostly.” She indicated across her abdomen. “And in this one poor leg that has to take all the weight.” She looked over at Dora and said, “If I’d known I was going to break my foot, I would have lost some pounds, that’s for sure.”

“Oh Auntie, you look great,” Savannah said. “Just stay there for a moment. I’ll be right back to help you up.”

“Oh, so you’re related?” Dora asked after watching Savannah close the door behind her.

“Yes, Savannah’s my niece,” Margaret explained. “She’s here from Los Angeles helping me get around.”

Dora tilted her head a little and smiled at Margaret. “How nice.” And then she said, “You ladies have been so kind.”

“Dora, it’s been a pleasure. Thank you so much for introducing us to your kitties. They are really wonderful. And the snickerdoodles… yummy.”

“You’re welcome; I enjoyed the company. Come by any time you’re in the area.”

“I’d like that.” Margaret reached into her pocket and pulled out a card. “Here’s my number, in case you hear anything about the catnapping.” And then she said, “Do you think you could give me directions to the hoarder you mentioned?”

“Sure,” Dora said while walking over to a small desk and reaching in for a pencil and paper. She had just finished explaining her crude diagram to Margaret when they heard a soft voice call out.

“Hello.”

The two women turned toward the door. “Oh hello, Charlotte. Come in. This is Ms…” Dora picked up Margaret’s card and looked down at it before continuing, “Ms. Forster. You passed her niece on the way in, I presume.”