Patricia Fry - Klepto Cat 05 - The Colony Cat Caper (15 page)

“Been better,” Margaret said, still gazing out through the door. She then focused on him, and asked, “What happened, Craig?”

He looked Margaret in the eyes and said, “What I want to know is what was she doing in here?”

“Hell if I know,” Margaret responded.

Savannah looke
d over at Craig. “She said someone pushed her.”

Colbi nodded and glanced around the room. “Yeah, that means there is or was someone else in here.”

“Or she’s delusional,” Margaret suggested.

“Yeah, she’s one strange woman,” Savannah said.

“How so?” Craig asked.

Margaret stared at the detective for a moment, and noticed he’d removed a pen and pad from his jacket pocket. “Hey, I brought chairs, how about we sit down—well, some of us can sit.” She looked over at Savannah. “And some of us should be sitting
and taking it easy.”

“Can we sit in the sun?” Savannah asked.

Margaret and Colbi walked out to Margaret’s Jeep and returned with three folding chairs. The three women settled into the lawn chairs and Craig perched on a nearby concrete-block wall.

Colbi
looked over at the crawl space, unconsciously wrapping her long ponytail around one finger in a curl. “Those cats are never going to tame down with so much activity out here all the time.”

Savannah and Margaret followed her gaze, but remained silent.

“So what makes you say she’s strange, Savannah?” Craig asked.

Savannah thought about the question, and then said, “Well, for one thing, while you were inside looking around yesterday, we saw her parked outside the gate a-ways, looking in this direction throu
gh binoculars.”

“Yeah,” Margaret said, “maybe she was looking for an opportunity to sneak in and do more searching.”

Savannah stood, walked over to the rip in the green mesh, and announced, “Hey, her car’s still out there.”

Craig got up and joined Savan
nah at the fence. He made a note on his tablet. He looked off in the distance and then turned to the women. “Margaret, you were here when we left. Is it possible that she slipped in before you locked the place up?”

Margaret thought for a moment, then shoo
k her head slowly. “I can’t imagine how,” she said. “You left. I locked the door. Could she have come in while you were investigating?”

“In a room that’s as open as that one, I don’t think so. But I’ve learned in this business that anything’s possible.” C
raig thought for a moment and then said, “Maybe there’s another entrance. He looked toward the top of the building. “I know of at least one case where the suspect got inside through a vent in the roof.” He fumbled with his pad and pen. “So which one of you found her?”

Colbi said, “I did. I heard someone calling for help and saw her through the window. I called 9-1-1. So do you think she fell down the stairs? She said she was pushed.”

“Do you have any idea who she might have been talking about…who would push her?” Craig asked.

The trio glanced at one another. Colbi said, “No, as far as we know there’s no one inside the building. But we do hear some strange things coming from there.”

“And some of us have seen things,” Savannah said.

“Who?” Craig asked. “A
nd what?”

“My sister was here with Bud trapping one night and she saw something through a window. Scared her pretty bad, I guess.”

“I’ve heard and seen things, too,” Colbi said, her eyes widening. “But it’s all very ghostly—ethereal.”

“Brianna used the
term, ‘grotesque,’” Savannah said.

Craig tapped the end of his pen on the pad a couple of times. “Are you saying a ghost did this?”

“Well, if I saw a ghost, I’d probably fall down a flight of stairs trying to get away,” Margaret said.

“
What do you ladies know about Leta Barnes?” Craig asked.

“Not much,” Margaret admitted. “She called me all gung-ho about doing a fundraiser in this building. Don’t know where she came from. She said she’d read about us in the paper online and wanted to he
lp the cause.”

“Only, I don’t think cats are of particular interest to her,” Colbi said. She looked at Savannah and Margaret. “Would you agree?”

“Most definitely,” Margaret said.

Savannah nodded.

“And when we saw her scrambling after Rags when she thought he had those diamonds, we began to understand what her gig was. Only…” Margaret hesitated, “…she couldn’t identify what was in the pouch.”

“That’s right,” Craig said. “But she seems to know there’s something worth pursuing here.”

“I guess she had an ulterior motive when she offered to do the fundraiser,” Colbi said. “We really don’t know who she is.” She cocked her head and looked at Craig. “Do you?”

“Not yet, but we’ll find out.” He addressed Colbi. “With your research skills, I’m surprised you have
n’t been on the Internet searching for her hidden agenda.”

“Didn’t know she had one—but you better believe I’ll be doing that today. I’ll let you know if I come across anything useful,” she said to Craig.

“Yes, please do. In the meantime, call me if any of you think of anything that might help with our investigation.” He rose to his feet, and stood staring at his notes. “I just hope she’s able to tell us what happened. She was incoherent when we found her—don’t know how long she’d been there.”

Half-hour
later, after Craig had left just a skeleton crew to finish the investigation, the three women sat in a sunny spot in the lawn chairs watching the cats enjoy their meal.

“I think they’re preparing to leave,” Margaret said upon noticing a few of the investi
gators packing up their gear.

“At least they’re quiet and the cats don’t seem to feel threatened,” Colbi said.

“Yeah, it’s neat to see them getting more accustomed to us. Some of them are sure curious,” Margaret said. “I see that the screamer’s back.”

“
Yes, released a few days ago. He sure doesn’t want anything to do with us, does he?” Savannah observed.

“How’s the mama and kitten doing?” Margaret asked with a smile. “Gosh, he’s going to be a beauty. Is Brianna really going to adopt them?”

“I guess so,” Savannah said. “She and Bud bathed the mother cat the other day. She said it went pretty well. The cat was not happy, but she didn’t fight too much. They got the job done. I want to stop in and see her. Brianna says she’s gorgeous. Michael says the kitten’s growing at a fast rate—probably because he’s an only child.”

Margaret nodded. “Yeah, he has no competition for food.”

“His eyes are open,” Savannah said with a smile. “Wanna stop by and see them on our way home?” She paused and said, “And I can use the bathroom while I’m there.”

Margaret grinned at her niece. Then she said, “Oh look, there’s another one of those once-white angoras.”

“With time, that one might become adoptable, too,” Colbi said.

“Yeah, they aren’t too far removed from their domestic
origins,” Margaret reasoned. “Gosh, it would be great to get some of these cats into a home environment.”

Colbi asked, “So how many have we trapped so far?”

Savannah said, “Five?” She smiled, “Six, if you count little Frank.”

“Frank?” Margaret said, qu
estioningly.

“That’s what Brianna wants to name the kitten; after the Frankenstein freak that scared her the night he was born.” She turned toward her aunt. “And we’ve placed two?”

“Three, counting the one I took to our shelter,” Margaret corrected.

“
How’s she doing?” Colbi asked.

“Oh, she’s awfully sweet. I think there’s hope. Max has taken a liking to her. She may not actually leave our property.”

“Cool,” Savannah said. And then she noticed the investigators heading for their cars. “I guess we can lock up now. But I’m really enjoying the sunshine. And it’s good for the cats to have us around, don’t you think?”

Margaret looked at her niece. “What, you want us to leave you here? We can do that—come back later and get you.”

“Oh, no, I don’t think I want to do that. Thanks anyway,” she said with a chuckle.

After the last of the emergency vehicles had left, Margaret entered the building. She glanced around and then walked over to where they’d found Leta lying. She looked up the stairwell. “I wonder wha
t’s up there,” she said to Colbi and Savannah, who had also stepped inside the building.

“Go see,” Colbi urged.

Margaret looked at Colbi and then at the staircase and said, “Will you spot me?”

“What?” Colbi asked with a scowl.

“Spot me. If I fall, catch me. Or better yet, make sure I don’t fall,” Margaret explained.

“Oh,” Colbi said. “Sure.”

As Colbi and Savannah watched, Margaret started up the steep metal steps. She counted eight steps to a platform and then five steps angled off in the opposite direction. At the top, she was met by a solid steel wall. “A wall,” she called out. And then, “Oh wait. Maybe it’s a door. I see a tiny keyhole.” She walked back down to the landing, peered around the corner, and said, “Hey, get that key out of my purse there. I want to see if it fits this door.”

Colbi dug out the key and carried it over to Margaret.

“Toss it,” Margaret said, preparing to catch it.

Colbi hesitated, looked around, and then carefully tossed it toward Margaret. “Oops,” she said when Margaret m
issed it.

“Dang,” Margaret said. “Where’d you learn to throw?”

“Obviously, never did learn,” Colbi said as she got down on her hands and knees to retrieve the key, which had fallen between the steps under the staircase. In a few seconds, she called out, “Hey, look what I found.”

“What?” Savannah asked.

“A purse!” she exclaimed, carefully unhooking it from a bolt protruding from underneath one of the steps. She eased out from under the stairs with the purse and the key.

The new discovery brought Margare
t down the stairs. “That’s Leta’s purse,” she said, upon spotting the black-and-muted-pink tapestry design.

“Wow, it is?” Savannah said. “I wonder why the investigators didn’t see it.”

“It was really hidden,” Colbi said.

“And it’s dark over here,” Marga
ret added. “You wouldn’t see it unless you were crawling around on your hands and knees into that small space, right Colbi?”

She nodded, brushing dust from her overalls and jacket.

“Well, let’s see what’s in it,” Margaret said eagerly, taking the purse from Colbi. She prepared to empty the contents onto the floor.

“Isn’t there some sort of federal law against that?” Savannah asked.

“Like opening someone’s mail?” Colbi said.

“Okay, if you aren’t interested, I’ll just take it home and dump it out,” Marga
ret said curtly.

“Yeah,” Savannah said, “I want to see.” She said under her breath, “Just don’t want to get arrested.”

Margaret spun around and faced her niece. “Who’s going to tell, Vannie?”

Savannah took a step back. “Not me—go ahead, dump it out.”

“Fingernail file, lipstick,” Margaret said, as if taking inventory. She opened the tube. “Ohhh, hate the shade.” She continued digging. “Wallet. Now let’s see what’s in here,” she said as she opened it. She flipped through it and said, “The usual: credit cards, a few photographs—whoa—money! Look at all that cash.” She opened the wallet wider to expose the bills. “Let’s see,” Margaret said while examining the cards, “here’s her driver’s license. She is, indeed, Leta Barnes and she lives in San Francisco.”

“W
hat’s that note?” Savannah asked pointing.

Margaret pulled it out and reported, “My name and phone number and the address of this place.” She set the wallet down and reached one hand into the purse. “Switchblade knife?” she said pulling one out from the b
ottom of the purse.

Savannah gasped and stepped back a few paces.

Colbi stood stunned.

Margaret dug around in some of the compartments and said, “Bingo! Cell phone.” She looked at Savannah and Colbi. “I’ll bet there’s a lot to learn about her right in t
his little baby.”

Savannah said, “I don’t really think…”

Colbi shook her head slowly. “I agree, Maggie. We shouldn’t…”

“I know,” Margaret said looking disappointed. We need to give this over to the authorities.” She looked at the phone and smiled. “Sure
would like to go through her text messages and e-mail…wouldn’t you guys?”

“Sure, I’m curious as all get out,” Colbi said. “I’m a journalist, remember? But it’s not ethical. Do you want me to deliver this to the sheriff’s office? I’ll be going right past
there on my way back to work. I’d like to get something for my story on what happened out here this morning, anyway.”

“Yeah, okay,” Margaret said as she put the items back into the purse. She picked up the knife and said, “Switchblade? What woman carries
a switchblade in her purse?” She thought about it for a minute and then grinned and said, “Maybe she has a blood sugar problem, and when she grabs an apple or an orange to eat, she has to peel it really fast.” She imitated the motion of clicking open the blade.