Cat-Eye Witness (A Klepto Cat Mystery) (9 page)

“Sure.” She watched him turn toward the front door. She followed him and asked, “Um, have you talked to others? I mean…from the fundraiser?”

“Yes, a few,” he said twisting around in place. “You had quite a turnout didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Iris responded with a brief smile. “It was a successful event, until…well, you know. I guess we had around eighty people. You’ll be busy with your questions.”

“Guess I will.” He reached for the doorknob, looked back at Iris once and walked out the door.

Still a little shaken by having visited the memories he usually kept below the surface, Craig Sledge headed back to the office. Gonzales had taken the prints they lifted from the ladder to the lab.
If they match, the results of her hair sample should clinch the case,
he thought
. Won’t bother me if I get this one tied up in a neat little ribbon this week. Then I might head for my cabin for some serious fishing. It’s been much too long since I’ve taken a break. I’ve worked myself into the ground since Matthew’s death.
Sledge shook his head.
Don’t wanna think about that. Too much work to do. Can’t let myself get distracted.
He smiled. …
either by thoughts of Matthew or the fascinating and fiery Iris Clampton.

***

“Damon, where the hell have you been?” Iris screamed as soon as she saw her son come through the front door.

“What does it matter?” he shouted. “I’m here now, ain’t I? What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is, the detective was here to talk to you.”

Damon feigned remorse. “Oh, I must have forgotten about that. Maybe I’ll go see him tomorrow.” He turned and headed down the hall toward his bedroom.

“You’d better, Damon. I’m telling you…” she called after him.

Bang! The bedroom door slammed shut. Iris flinched as the sound reverberated against her raw nerves.

***

Monday was business as usual at the veterinary clinic. It was near closing time when Savannah poked her head into the recovery room where her fiancé was tending to a cat. “Michael I’m leaving now,” she said. When she had his attention, she reminded him, “The detective is coming over this afternoon to look at the mound of dirt Rags found yesterday.”

“Oh that’s right. It’ll be interesting to see what he thinks.”

“It will, indeed.” She started to leave, but turned back. “Oh Michael, can we have dinner at my house tonight? I’m worried about Rags. He just hasn’t been the same since Saturday. He’s jumpy and seems kind of shaken up. I don’t want to leave him tonight.”

“Gosh, he seemed fine when you had him outside yesterday.”

“Yes, but he isn’t himself in the house. With the cleaning company coming in today, I’m sure he’s even more upset.”

“Oh, that’s right, the cleaning company… Helena was there to let them in?”

“Yes, and to make sure Rags stayed out of the way. So dinner at my house? Okay?”

“Sure, honey. Shall I pick something up?”

“No, I can make us a taco salad. Sound good?” she asked.

“Yes, perfect. See you later. I want to stop by and take a look at the mare and the little miracle.”

“Is that her name? Miracle. I like it. I took Charlotte out to see the mare one day and she wants to name her, Hope. What do you think?”

“Well, it’s not like these are our horses, but, sure, I can suggest that to Bobbi over at the shelter. And we’ll have to run it by the woman who’s interested in adopting them. In fact, I saw her at the corral this morning. I’m pretty sure she’s going to take them.”

“Way cool. I’ll see you at home,” Savannah said as she left the room.

***

Savannah had been home for only a few minutes when she heard a knock. “Oh hello, Detective,” she said upon opening the door.

“Thank you for calling, Ms. Jordan. Now what did you find?”

“Well, it wasn’t actually me; it was my cat.”

He raised his eyebrows and gave her a sideways glance. “Your cat found something?”

She motioned to her right. “Yes, come on out here, I’ll show you.” She explained as the two of them walked around the side of the house, “I let him out for some exercise yesterday and he found this.” She squatted down and pointed under the azalea bush.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Well, it appears that someone has been digging here—in fact…” She bent down and took a closer look. “…someone or something...” She paused, tilted her head to one side. “It looks different than it did yesterday.”

The detective stood rubbing his chin, looking from Savannah to where she was pointing. “I don’t see the significance…” he started to say when Antonio walked up.

“Hello señorita.”

“Oh, hola Antonio. Oh my goodness, Antonio, what happened to you?” she asked upon noticing a cut across the gardener’s nose. “Wrestling with rose bushes, again?”

He lowered his head and his shoulders slumped. “No señorita,” he said shaking his head slowly back and forth. “Bad man push me.”

Savannah put her hand on his arm. She leaned down and looked into his face. “What bad man?” she asked quietly.

Sledge swung around and took a look at the slight Mexican man. “Did that happen here?”

“Si, señor. I stay away from here.” He motioned around the area cordoned off by police tape. “I work in garden and hear something. So I walk over to here.” He indicated the area outside the perimeter of the tape. “I see man digging. Don’t look like sheriff, so I say, ‘Hey, what you doing?’ The man look at me through the bushes. I come closer and he runs out to me. I turn. Don’t want to be hit in face. He push me hard. I can no help it, I fall on my pala—er… shovel. I bleed and bleed.”

“What did he look like, Antonio?” Sledge asked.

“Anglo, I think. He wears black…how you say…?” He covered his head with his hands.

“Hood?” Savannah suggested.

“Yes, hood. Black hood.”

“What happened after he pushed you?” Sledge asked.

“I think he run away.”

“Did he take anything with him?” the detective wanted to know.

“I think no. I do not see a thing.”

“Antonio, can we borrow your shovel—pala?” Sledge asked.

“Si señor.” He rushed toward the garden and came back with a shovel.

Sledge took it and immediately began poking it into the ground in the area of the loosened dirt.

Ka-thud.

“Did you hear that? There’s something buried here. Let’s see what it is,” Sledge said as he began to dig carefully around the object.

“What is that?” Savannah asked as the item came into view.

“Heck if I know,” Sledge said. He wiped the dirt away with a white handkerchief he’d retrieved from his jacket pocket. “Do you recognize it Ms. Jordan?”

Savannah moved in for a closer look. She pursed her lips and frowned.

Sledge donned a pair of latex surgical gloves and lifted the item out of the shallow hole, removing a stained white towel from around it.

“Oh!” Savannah exclaimed. “It’s one of Auntie’s inkwells. She has a collection of these in her bedroom.” She then scrunched up her nose. “What’s it doing out here?”

Sledge examined it more closely. “Well, this one’s got blood on it. Looks like our murder weapon.”

“Ay me!” Antonio said, slapping his palms against his cheeks.

The detective pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket, unfolded it and dropped the towel into it. Then he draped his handkerchief over the inkwell. “Ms. Jordan, can you show me where this was in the room, please?”

“Yes, I think I can.”

Before picking up the inkwell, he looked out toward the grassy area and then up at the second-story window. He said, “You know, I’d like to check one more thing, if you don’t mind.” He placed the envelope on the ground next to the inkwell, then lifted the ladder and leaned it against the house. After securing it, he began to make the climb up to the second story—stopping every few feet to look over at the grassy area. On his way back down the ladder, he felt the branches from one of the junipers rubbing against the back of his neck and he stopped to investigate.
Hmm, more red hair.
He picked the strands of hair from the branches and deposited them in a small envelope which he slipped back into his pocket before descending the ladder.

Antonio helped Sledge ease the ladder back down to the ground. Then, using the handkerchief, Sledge carefully picked up the inkwell with one hand and grabbed the evidence envelope with the other. “Okay, Ms. Jordan, I think I have what I need here. I’d like to take a look at your aunt’s collection, if I may.”

“Sure,” Savannah said. She reached over and patted the gardener’s arm. “You take care, Antonio. Thank you for telling us about what happened.”

“Yes, thank you, sir.” Sledge nodded in his direction.

Savannah led the detective into the house, up the staircase and toward her aunt’s former bedroom. She stopped outside the doorway until the detective said, “Looks like the cleaning service has been here.”

“Oh yes. That’s right, they were.” She relaxed a little and walked on in. She stood in the middle of the room and looked around.

“They do a darn good job, don’t they?” the detective said. “You’d never know… well, everything should be back the way it was. Maybe even better.” He chuckled.

“Yes, physically, it looks okay. I think it will take time for the emotional aspect to heal.” Savannah straightened her posture and walked over to the glass cabinet where her aunt’s inkwells were displayed. “Hmmm, I don’t see any missing from here.” She opened the cabinet door and looked more closely. “They all seem to be accounted for.” She turned just in time to see her aunt’s long-time housekeeper appear at the bedroom door. “Oh Helena, thank you for taking care of things today. The cleaning service did a good job, don’t you think?” She took a sweeping look around the room.

“Yes. They worked hard—lots of noise.” She shook her head and continued, “The cat was not happy.”

“Oh, poor guy. I really appreciate you being here with him.” Savannah started to turn back to the cabinet, but changed her mind. Helena, do you know where my aunt had this inkwell? I can’t find a spot for it in the cabinet.” She indicated that Detective Sledge should show the housekeeper the one they had found outside.

Helena walked closer and took a look. “Oh yes, it does not go inside the cabinet. It was right here.” She pointed to an empty spot on the dressing table. “I saw it was not there today,” she said. She put her hands out in front of her and shrugged her shoulders. “I wondered where did it go?” She addressed Savannah. “Where was it?”

“It’s a long and complicated story, Helena. I’ll tell you when it’s all figured out. Thank you again for being here today. I left your check on the table downstairs.”

Helena stood in place, her round friendly face filled with curiosity, her dark brown eyes probing for answers. When no one offered an explanation, she glanced one more time at Savannah, then turned quickly and left the room.

“So, the murder weapon was in plain sight—easily accessible for a crime of passion,” Detective Sledge said as if he were having a conversation with himself. He then looked over at Savannah. “It’ll be interesting, indeed, to find out whose fingerprints are on this.” He started to take a step toward the bedroom door, stopped and said, “Okay, then. Ms. Jordan, I’ll get out of your way. Thanks for calling about this. Turns out your cat led us to a very important clue. Now if only he could tell us who the murderer is.” He laughed out loud.

Savannah crossed her arms in front of her. “I just hope the killer’s caught soon. It’s rather unsettling to know he’s running loose and, especially that he’s been lurking around here.” She shuddered.

“I understand how you feel, Ms. Jordan. Please make it a habit to keep your doors locked even when you’re home…and the windows,” he added. “I think we’re close to making an identification.”

“Well, I’ll be glad when he’s behind bars,” Savannah said, her voice cracking a little.

“Yeah, he or she…” He turned and walked away without noticing the stunned look on Savannah’s face.

***

“Are you okay, Savannah?” Michael asked as he held her at arm’s length and attempted to peer into her face. “Look at me, honey. What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Michael. I guess the reality of what happened here Saturday is catching up with me. I’ve just been jumpy ever since the detective left this afternoon.” She looked up at him and said, “Michael, we found the murder weapon.”

“Oh my gosh, what was it?” he asked, holding her shoulders and bending slightly to look into her face.

“One of the inkwells from Auntie’s collection. It was buried out in the yard. The murderer—at least it was probably the murderer—he was here…” Savannah suddenly became breathless. Her voice caught, as she continued. “Antonio saw him digging and confronted him. He pushed Antonio down and ran off before he could dig the thing up.”

“Sheeeesh! Is Antonio okay?” he asked.

Savannah nodded, then she shook her head. “He has a cut on his nose.”

“Oh honey, you must be so frightened. He came back here?”

“Yes. As Detective Sledge says, ‘he or
she
.’”

“What? He suspects a woman?”

She broke away from Michael and dropped her arms to her side. “Oh, who knows? This just…well, it…sucks. I hate, hate, hate it,” she said, burying her face in her hands.

“Oh, Savannah, no wonder you’re upset. Come here, honey,” he murmured as he pulled her close and held her. After a few minutes, he whispered in her ear, “You sit down in here and I’ll be right back with a glass of wine for you. We’ll just relax for a bit—okay?”

Savannah nodded as he led her to the sofa.

“I poured that yummy Gewürztraminer that you like,” he said upon returning from the kitchen with two stemmed crystal wine glasses. He handed one to Savannah and sat down beside her.

“Gewürz…tra…miner.” She laughed through her tears, while trying to imitate Michael’s perfect pronunciation of the word. She held up the glass and gazed at it. “I love these glasses of Auntie’s. I’m so fortunate that she didn’t take all of this great stuff when she married Max. I get to live in this wonderful place with all this cool furniture and…” She closed her eyes and squeezed out a river of tears.