Arthur looked at the rock formation. “So where’d he go? To an Indian reservation? Is that what’s on the other side of this thing?”

  She chuckled. “No. There’s a road over that way. You can drive up so far, then walk over the hill to this trail.”

  “So he has a car parked over there?” Arthur asked.

  “Most likely.” She nodded at the document Arthur was studying. “What does it say?”

  “Someone wants me to relinquish all rights to my inheritance, that’s all.” He tossed it on the ground. “Same old thing.”

  Savannah picked it up and looked at it. “Is there a name on here?”

  “Just mine.”

  She took the document carefully between her thumb and finger. “There might be fingerprints on it. Let’s show this to Craig.”

  “Aw, Savannah, I just want to forget about it—you know, ignore it so it’ll go away,” he complained.

  “How’s that working for you?” she asked.

  He grinned at her. “You have a point there. Okay,” he said, taking it from her and shoving it into his pocket. “Let’s show it to Detective Craig.”

  ◆◆◆

  “Hey, there they are,” Michael said when he saw Savannah and Arthur ride into the yard later that afternoon. “How was the…” He frowned. “You took the cats with you?”

  “Not on purpose,” Savannah complained. “Someone evidently let them out and here they came.”

  “Good thing they did,” Arthur remarked. When Michael looked at him, he joked, “A road agent held us up.”

  “A what?” Michael said.

  “You know, a highwayman.”

  “Someone stopped you? Did he rob you?”

  Arthur shook his head. “No. He didn’t get a chance to do anything. Koko and Rags did a number on him and he ran away with his tail between his legs.”

  “Tail?” Michael repeated. “So it was a dog?”

  “Yeah, a dog of a man,” Savannah said. When she saw that Michael was not in the mood to joke about her safety, she explained, “He wanted Arthur to sign his fortune over to some gal named Misty or Miss T or…”

  Confused, Michael asked, “Why would he do that?”

  Savannah glanced at Arthur. “Because he’s getting really tired of being stalked and threatened.”

  Arthur nodded. “I just want peace in my life. I thought I had it when Rags liberated me from the dungeon, then again when my mother and stepfather were sentenced to a whole lot of years in prison. Now this. Is there no peace for me?”

  Michael studied the younger man, then Savannah. “Are you both okay? And the cats?”

  “Yeah,” Savannah said, “but you should have seen the other guy.”

  “I’d like to see him,” Michael snarled. “Do you know who he is?”

  “One of a string of people someone has hired to get me to turn over my inheritance. At least now I know that maybe it’s a woman.” He held up the document and said, “With this, maybe we’ll learn something about what’s going on and be able to put a stop to it.”

  “I’ll call Craig as soon as we take care of the horses,” Savannah said. She petted Rags, adding, “…and the cats.”

  Michael took the reins from Savannah. “Go put the cats inside and call Craig. Arthur and I’ll take care of the horses.”

  Savannah slid down from the saddle and took Rags in her arms. Michael handed Koko to her, and she headed to the house with them. Moments later she returned. “Boy were the cats thirsty and tired.”

  “They drank quite a bit of water on the trail,” Arthur said.

  “Well, maybe not so much,” Savannah said, “but they did drink several times.” She laughed. “Now they’re snuggled together in Lexie’s bed. Where is Lexie?” she asked. “I didn’t see her in there anywhere.”

  “Your mom took her for a walk with the kids. With the dog run gone and the fence not in place yet, she needs to be walked more often. I think they were going to meet Karl for a lemonade or something.”

  “I thought Karl was in Spain,” Savannah said.

  “He leaves in the morning. Did you call Craig?”

  Savannah nodded. “He’d like to take a look at that letter and talk to you, Arthur. He’s on his way over. Is that okay with you?”

  Arthur nodded. He looked at his hands and brushed off his jeans. “Can I wash up?”

  “Sure, go on in. Want iced tea? Lemonade?”

  “Iced tea sounds good. Thanks.”

  “Meet you back out here on the deck,” Savannah said.

  “So tell me what’s been going on,” Craig said when he joined the Iveys and their guest minutes later.

  Arthur sighed. “As near as I can figure, someone thinks they have a claim to my father’s estate, which, of course, is now my estate, but I guess they don’t have a legal claim or they’d be sending lawyers after me instead of hooligans.”

  “So this has been going on for a while?” Craig asked.

  “I’d say almost a year. Well, I’m pretty sure it was Mr. Peyton or maybe my mother behind the harassment initially. I issued a complaint to the prison, and things slowed down for a while. I don’t know if it’s the same person or someone new hassling me now, but today we got some additional information.”

  “Oh?” Craig said, “In what form?”

  “The name Misty, Missy, Miss T…” Arthur started.

  “Or Mitzi,” Savannah added.

  Arthur nodded. He pulled the document out of his pocket and handed it to Craig. “And this.”

  “That might have fingerprints on it,” Savannah said.

  Craig looked at her. “I imagine it does—yours, Arthur’s, mine…”

  “And that man’s and maybe Missy’s,” Savannah insisted.

  “Possibly,” Craig agreed. He read the document, then turned it over a couple of times. “All they want is your signature signing away your rights to the estate, huh?”

  “How can that be legal?” Michael asked.

  “I don’t imagine it is,” Craig agreed, “but it could possibly become legal once it has Arthur’s signature. It could be used to create legal documents.” He leaned back in his chair and stared at Arthur. “I’m not sure about the legality of this, but it certainly is against the law to harass someone and threaten them and cause bodily harm, for heaven’s sake.”

  “Oh!” Savannah yelped, reaching for her phone. “I got a picture of the man who accosted us.”

  Craig chuckled. “From what you told me on the phone, Savannah, your cats accosted him.” Craig studied the photo, finally saying, “Well, it’s awfully fuzzy, and a cat is covering part of his face, but send that to me. Maybe we can use technology to ID him. That would be a good first step.” He asked Arthur, “He said he was being paid $500 to deliver this?”

  “Well, his goal was for me to sign it,” Arthur said. “I doubt he got paid for leaving it with me. His job was to use scare tactics to get me to sign it.”

  “Of course,” Craig muttered. He studied the document again. “So do you know anyone named Misty or anything similar to that? A family member, perhaps? Or even a friend—a friend of your mother’s, maybe?”

  Arthur shook his head. “I’ll think about it, but off the top of my head, no.”

  Craig stood up. “Well, I’ll see what I can find out about this guy from the national database. If we can locate him, maybe we can get him to talk.”

  “Yeah, give him $500,” Arthur said. “I get the impression he’ll do just about anything for money.” Arthur brightened. “In fact, I’ll pay the guy for the information we need. Consider that, Detective. I have no problem with that. I just want all this to go away.”

  Chapter Six

  “So who all’s hopping on the circus train?” Michael asked the following Saturday as he drove along the freeway toward Straley.

  Savannah asked, “Huh?”

  “Who are we meeting over there?”

  “The Sledges, the Spences, the Jacksons…”

  “Jacksons?” Gladys repeated. “Oh, Damon and Colbi.”

  Savannah nodded. “And Rosemary. Auntie and Max will be there. Bri and Bud might ride with them, and I imagine Ruth and Rupert are going.”

  “So Iris changed her mind about going?” Michael asked.

  “Yes,” Savannah said. “She didn’t want to be left behind.”

  “We’ll fill the tent,” Michael joked.

  “I don’t think the show’s in a tent,” Savannah said. “Since there are cats involved, I believe it’ll be inside, on a stage—you know, in an auditorium.”

  “Oh,” Michael said. “No sawdust and trapeze artists?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  After a few minutes Michael asked, “Anything new with Arthur’s stalking situation?”

  Savannah shook her head. “No. Craig said there just isn’t enough information on that document to open a case, and the picture I took was awful. He wants Arthur to try to remember details about the others who have approached him. Arthur, of course, would rather forget about it and move on. But each time he does he’s approached again, so I doubt that’s possible until this thing’s resolved.” She sighed. “Poor Arthur. I just feel so bad for him.”

  ◆◆◆

  An hour later, Michael pulled into a parking lot. “Is this the place?” he asked. “It’s where that gal in the GPS gizmo has led us.”

  Savannah read the marquis out front. “This is it.” She looked around. “Glad we got our tickets ahead of time; doesn’t look like it’s very big inside.”

  “Larger than you might think,” Gladys said, “but you’re right, it’s not as big as most circus tents.” She chuckled. “I suppose performing house cats aren’t much of a draw for most people. You and your friends are the exception.”

  “There are other people here,” Savannah said. “I mean, people I don’t know.” She looked around. “I don’t know those people, or that man over there, or that group...” She smiled. “I know those people, though.”

  “Oh, yes, there are Colbi and Damon,” Gladys said.

  Savannah helped Lily out of her car seat. “There’s little Rosemary, punkin. See Rosemary in her pink kitty sweater? Oh look! Harrison, Leah, and little Charlie are with them. How cool.”

  “I have my blue kitty sweater,” Lily said, patting her tummy. She pointed at her feet, “And my kitty socks and shoes.”

  “Yes, you do,” Savannah said. “You’re a kitty-cat girl.”

  “How old is Charlie now?” Gladys asked.

  “Almost three,” she said. “He’s so cute. I was surprised at all the words he could say when we were together at Rosemary’s birthday party last week. He’s doing really well for a child with Downs.” Savannah reached into the backseat and picked up her tote bag. When she saw Lily taking steps toward Rosemary and Charlie, she took the child’s hand. “Stay here with Mommy, Daddy, and Grammy. No running off, okay? We’ll walk together to see Rosemary and Charlie.”

  “Okay,” Lily said, tugging on Savannah’s hand.

  Once Michael had Teddy in his arms, they all walked toward where their friends waited.

  “Hi,” Savannah greeted. She squatted to the children’s level. “Rosemary, I love your kitty sweater.”

  The child patted her tummy and smiled.

  “And Charlie,” Savannah said, “look at you all dressed up.” He touched an emblem on his shirt. “Hey, is that a kitty-cat?”

  Charlie stepped back toward Harrison and lifted his arms to be picked up.

  “He can be shy,” Leah said, “but hang around for a while and he’ll become a social butterfly.”

  Savannah ran her hand over the toddler’s back. “So cute.”

  When Leah saw Teddy in Michael’s arms, she said, “And look at this big boy. Harrison and I were trying to remember how old he is.”

  “Seventeen months,” Michael said.

  “And you’re three, Lily?” Harrison asked.

  She held up three fingers. “I’m almost four,” she said, reciting, “December tenth. That’s my birthday. Want to know what I want for my birthday?”

  “Well, that’s forward,” Gladys said.

  “She’s a girl after my own heart,” Leah said. “She knows what she wants.” She leaned over and asked, “What do you want, Lily?”

  “A stove and dishes and a driving car, a buggy for my doll, and Play-Doh.” She frowned. “My Play-Doh got hard.”

  “Well, shall we go make sure our seats are still there?” Michael suggested.

  “Lead the way,” Harrison urged.

  Once they entered the auditorium, Savannah noticed that the rest of their group had arrived and most of them were seated. “Where are Bud and my sister?” she asked. “Didn’t they make it?”

  “They’re getting refreshments,” Margaret said. She shushed her niece. “I think they’re about ready to begin.” She grinned. “This is going to be so interesting—cats doing what they’re told.”

  “Yeah, this I gotta see,” Michael quipped. He said to Savannah, “Hey, we should have brought Rags. Maybe he’d learn something.”

  She waved him off, lifted Lily onto her lap, and faced the stage.

  The group had been watching the show for several minutes when Iris tapped Savannah on her shoulder. She asked, “What do you think about the cats?”

  Savannah glanced at Iris, smiling. “They’re amazing,” she hissed. “I’m so glad we came. What a fun show.”

  “But look at the cats,” Iris whispered.

  “Yeah, they’re beautiful.” Suddenly Savannah gasped. She put one hand to her mouth. “Oh my gosh,” she said slowly. She turned to faced Iris. “They look like…”

  Iris grinned, wide-eyed, and nodded. “Maggie noticed it right away. Savannah, could they be…?”

  Savannah watched the stage more closely, finally saying, “No way. How could they possibly be…?”

  “But look at them,” Iris insisted. “And look at what they’re wearing.”

  “How…?” Savannah repeated.

  Iris shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “What’s wrong?” Michael whispered. “Is something wrong, hon?”

  “Michael, those cats look just like some of those we saw over at Iris’s the other night.”

  Michael scrutinized the cats again, then glanced at Iris and Margaret, who sat behind them. “Come on, ladies, that’s ridiculous.”

  “Michael, look at them,” Savannah insisted.

  “I am looking at them. They’re pretty cats. Those few I saw at the inn were pretty cats. It’s impossible to think they could be the same cats. You gals are grasping for straw

  ◆◆◆

  Savannah, Iris, and Margaret could hardly contain themselves until the performance was over. They’d already decided to approach the trainer and ask him a few questions.

  “Let’s see if we can get into his dressing room,” Iris suggested, leading Margaret toward the stage.

  “Michael, can you and Mom take charge of the children? I’ll be right back,” Savannah called, walking away with the other two women. As they neared the stage, she told Iris, “I’ll pretend to be a reporter.”

  “Um, hi,” Iris said when they’d made their way to the left wing of the stage. “We’re doing a podcast and we’d love to talk to the trainer.”

  The man reached into his pocket and handed each of the women a business card. “You can contact Sir Roscoe through this website. He doesn’t see backstage visitors. Never has. He doesn’t want to upset the cats. He keeps pretty low-key where the cats are concerned.”

  Iris tried to catch a glimpse of Sir Roscoe behind the stagehand, finally saying, “Hey, girls, maybe we can catch him out in the back parking lot. Let’s go.”

  The man chuckled. “Good luck. Do you remember the grand finale with the lights and holograms?”

  Iris nodded.

  “Well, that was by design. While that was going on, the cats were being penned up and carted away.” He said more dramatically, “Ladies, Sir Roscoe has left the building.” He laughed, then added, “In fact, he had gone by the time the last curtain fell. It’s the way he does it—the way he wants it.”

  Iris’s shoulders slumped. “Darn.” She faced the man again. “Hey, do you know anything about the cats he uses in his performance—you know, where he keeps them or anything?”

  “Didn’t you get a program? It’s all in the program.”

  “Yeah, but I’m looking for more detail than what I saw there.”

  “I’m sorry ma’am. All I know is that Sir Roscoe performed today and now he’s gone on his way presumably to his next gig. Read the program,” he instructed, “and look at his website. Call the guy if you must, but I do know he’s a bit of a recluse. He’s an odd one, that fellow.”

  Iris sighed. “Well, thank you,” she said, turning to walk away.

  Margaret hung back. “So you don’t know where he lives with the cats?” she asked.

  The man shook his head.

  “Do you know anyone who does?” Savannah asked.

  The man gazed at the three women. “What is this? Are you stalkers?” He took his phone from his pocket. “Maybe I ought to call security.”

  “No. Don’t do that,” Iris said. “We’re leaving. Sorry to bother you. Thank you for your time.” Iris grumbled on their way out, “Well, darn.” She turned to Savannah. “Did you take any pictures?”

  “Yeah, a couple, but the lighting wasn’t all that great.”

  “I got a few,” Margaret said, looking at her phone screen.

  “Let’s compare them to the pictures we got at the slumber party,” Iris suggested.

  “Yes,” Savannah said excitedly. “Let me see what you got today, Auntie.” She opened her phone’s photo app and chose a picture from it. “Similar,” she said. “Yeah, I remember a tabby like that one. Some of them sure look familiar.”

  “Wait!” Iris shouted. When Margaret looked at her, she instructed, “Go back to the little striped one you photographed jumping through that hoop. Can you zoom in? Yeah, see that collar she’s wearing? I’m sure I’ve seen it before.”

  “I thought you were confiscating the clothes that came with the cats,” Margaret said.

  “Some of it, yeah. But either I don’t have that one or Sir Roscoe has more than one of them. It is unique—like he has some of this stuff custom made.” Iris gestured excitedly. “Bingo. Now we know where those cats are coming from.”