“Thank you. And thank you for helping me out with Hazelnut. You did such a good job and to think, I thought you were…well, we don’t want to go there again. You did a good job and I love you, cousin Janet.”

  Savannah continued watching the women’s exchange with interest. When Michael took Janet’s arm to help her out to the car, Savannah hugged her aunt. “Will you be okay by yourself tonight?”

  “Oh yes, I’m going to fall into bed and sleep until the cats need me in the morning, which had better not be too early, because I’m pretty sure I won’t feel as good tomorrow as I do right now.” She waved before closing the door, saying, “Good-bye everyone and good night.”

  Chapter Six

  Thursday afternoon after telling Janet good-bye, Savannah and Margaret drove to the cat colony with Rags. Savannah stepped out of the car and looked around. “By my calculations we’ve caught eight, right?”

  “Yes, plus the three nursing kittens. We have another five or so to go. At least all the kittens and pending kittens are safe. We caught the pregnant mothers and…Vannie, what are you doing?” she asked when she saw Savannah tilting her head in contemplation.

  “I hear something. Listen,” she said, “I think it’s coming from that tunnel-burrow-hidey place. See, Rags hears it too.”

  Margaret moved closer and slumped. “Oh no. Sure sounds like kittens.”

  “How in the world did we miss them? I thought we caught all the pregnant females.”

  “Well, sometimes these feral mother cats don’t put on a lot of weight, making it hard—even impossible—to diagnose a pregnancy from a distance. As you know,” Margaret continued, “the younger mothers may only have two kittens, so they don’t get very big. Darn it, anyway.” She took a deep breath and gazed at Rags, who was sniffing in the weeds near Savannah. “Why don’t you put his long leash on him? Maybe he’ll bring them out of there. Do you think he’ll do that?”

  “Well, he did it last time. We can sure give it a try.”

  “Yes, but these could be newborns. Will he be gentle enough?”

  “I’m sure he will.” Just then something caught Savannah’s eye. “Michael,” she called, as he drove up and parked.

  “Hi,” he said, climbing out of his veterinary truck.

  “What are you doing out here?” she asked.

  “Barney wanted me to look at one of his horses—she needed a few stitches. She’ll be okay. I finished early and thought I’d come back here and see how the cat wrangling is going. Are you just about finished bringing me patients?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” Savannah said.

  Margaret chimed in. “Yeah, it appears we have a new family.”

  Savannah nodded. “It sounds like they’re in that tunnel there.”

  Michael squatted and studied the hole Savannah referred to. “Looks like maybe a badger den. Surely the cats didn’t dig it out.”

  Margaret shook her head. “I doubt it. I think you’re right, Michael; some other animal dug this burrow and the cats are using it. Smart.”

  Without acknowledging her, Michael said, “Or it was created by nature—you know, by disintegrating tree roots or some other natural occurrence. But yeah, it makes for a nice shelter for the cats.” He looked at the women. “So you think one of the cats had a litter down there?”

  Savannah nodded. “Yes. We’re getting ready to send Rags in to see if he’ll bring them out.” She handed Rags’s leash to Margaret. “Here, hold onto him. I’ll be right back.”

  Before Savannah made it to the car to retrieve the long leash, she heard her aunt yell, “No, Rags! Darn it.”

  Savannah quickly joined the others. “What happened? Did you let go of him?”

  “Not on purpose,” Margaret cranked. “He’s so dang sneaky.”

  “No worries,” Michael said. “He’ll come out in a minute, and probably with a kitten,” he predicted. It wasn’t long before he smiled and pointed. “There he is, and, look, he has a kitten—yup, a newborn.”

  The two women stared in shock as Michael took the kitten from Rags and handed it to Savannah. But before he could get his hands on Rags, the cat disappeared again into the tunnel. This time things didn’t go as they’d hoped.

  “Rags! No!” Savannah cried, when she heard a quiet rumble and saw dirt quickly filling the hole. “Michael,” she screamed, “it caved in! Rags is in there. Oh Michael, we’ve got to get him out.”

  She snuggled with the kitten in her hands and muttered into its fur, “We just have to save him and your little sisters and brothers.” When Michael lay down at the entrance to the small burrow and started pulling dirt out by hand, she quickly placed the kitten in the nearest carrier and joined him.

  Soon Michael leaned back on his heels. Breathlessly, he said, “We need something to dig with. Go see if you can find a shovel.”

  Savannah ran toward the stables. Shovels, shovels, she repeated to herself while scanning the corrals and surrounding area for digging tools. “Joe!” she shouted when she saw Bonnie’s brother trimming a horse’s hoof. “Joe, we need help. The burrow caved in; there are cats inside.”

  He looked up. “Huh?”

  “We need shovels. Where can I find shovels?”

  Joe let the horse’s hoof drop, and tossed his tools outside the corral. He gestured as he dumped grain from a plastic bucket. “There’s a shovel. Here, take this bucket, too.”

  He had another idea. “The backhoe.” He asked her, “How deep down do you think those cats are?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. I’d better get these to Michael.”

  Joe eyed the backhoe again, then jogged to where it was parked. Good the key’s in it. He thought, How lucky that Barney had that septic-tank problem. This little machine just might be what we need to dig out those cats. If only I can remember how to operate it. It’s been a while since my uncle let me mess around with the one he kept at his equipment yard.

  He cheered silently when he got the thing running. He worked the bucket up and down a couple of times. “Yeah, I got this,” he muttered as he drove it to where the Iveys and Margaret were frantically digging.

  “Stand back!” Joe shouted as he began removing dirt from the area of the collapse.

  Savannah put her hands up to her mouth. “Be careful.” She grabbed Michael’s arm and hid her face against it. “God, don’t let that thing crush the cats.” She didn’t want to watch, but she couldn’t keep from watching. All she wanted was to see Rags appear unharmed. Is that too much to ask? She wondered. Please, please, she prayed.

  Savannah, Margaret, and Michael stood watching as Joe worked the dirt-moving machine. With each scooper full, Savannah cringed. She dug her fingernails into Michael’s arm. He finally removed her hand and put his arm tightly around her, whispering in her ear, “He’ll be okay.”

  It seemed like everything was moving in slow motion and that too much time had passed. Surely the cats can’t survive this, Savannah thought. Her heart ached. Suddenly she saw movement. She pointed. “There! I see something.”

  Michael motioned for Joe to hold the bucket and he and Savannah began digging by hand. Margaret joined them and Joe leaped from the machine and helped as well, when suddenly he gasped. “It’s a kitten!” he said. He lifted the kitten and brushed the dirt from its face. He blew on the kitten’s face, then handed him to Michael, who announced, “He’s breathing.”

  Meanwhile, Margaret saw something odd just under a layer of loose dirt. She swiped at it with one hand. “Vannie, I think it’s your cat.” She cowered, saying, “Or it’s a dead beaver or something.”

  Squelching a tendency to be squeamish, Savannah lifted the filthy, furry lump, turned it over, and said, “It’s Rags!” She laid him down on the ground and cleaned his face, then listened for a heartbeat. Michael approached and he took over with Rags, giving him CPR.

  “Unbelievable,” Margaret said.

  “What?” Savannah asked, continuing to focus on Rags.

  “Look what he was protecting under there.” Margaret held up two more newborn kittens that were squealing and squeaking up a storm. When Savannah looked at her, she said, “He was on top of them. He must have created a small air pocket for them. They weren’t even that dirty, as you can see.”

  “He’s breathing,” Michael announced, clearing more dirt from Rags’s face.

  “Oh, Rags,” Savannah said, putting her cheek gently against his. She brushed some of the loose dirt away from his eyes.

  “Is that it?” Joe asked. “Is that all the cats?”

  Margaret and Savannah made eye contact with each other. “I don’t know,” Margaret said, while she wrapped the kittens in a blanket and put them into the carrier with the first one. She added solemnly, “I guess the mother cat could have been in there with them.”

  “That’s doubtful,” Savannah said. When the others looked at her, she explained, “Rags wouldn’t have taken kittens from the mother cat.” She looked out over the shrubbery. “No, I think she’s out there somewhere watching us. Auntie, move the kittens into that brushy area and we’ll see if a cat claims them.”

  “Okay.” Margaret had another idea. “In fact, I’ll put them in one of the traps. She’ll go in after her kittens and won’t be able to get away from us.”

  “Hey, what’s all that stuff?” Michael asked, peering down into the hole Joe had dug.

  “More of Mr. Peters’s belongings, I suppose.” Savannah faced the others. “You know, that’s just really odd to me that the only things we’ve found out here belong to Ferrell Peters.”

  “Oh, his wife probably had all that stuff buried when he disappeared,” Michael suggested.

  Savannah shook her head. “I don’t think so. According to what Craig has learned about the case, his wife claimed that his belongings were all missing when he left, like he took everything with him.”

  “Well, he didn’t take everything with him, did he?” Margaret said.

  After thinking for a few moments, Savannah said, “You know what? I’m going to call Craig and tell him we’ve found more of Mr. Peters’s things, including his dog tags. He might want to do more digging out here.” She looked down at Rags, who now rested on her lap. She petted him, kissed him on top of the head, then allowed him to stand up. She turned away when he shook off more of the dirt, then petted him again while holding tightly to his leash.

  ****

  Craig arrived at the colony site thirty minutes later. He griped, “What’s so important out here that you had to disturb my lunch? Maddie made tamale pie today.”

  “You ate late today,” Margaret said. “It’s nearly two thirty.”

  “Yeah, got tied up with work,” he said.

  Savannah chuckled. “You stayed to finish your lunch, didn’t you? This isn’t an emergency…well, not anymore, anyway.”

  “Yeah, I finished it and I helped myself to a bowl of ice cream smothered in hot fudge.”

  “Gads, that’s a heart attack ready to happen,” Margaret said.

  Craig smirked at her, then asked, “So what’s the problem out here? He gazed at the hole Joe had dug. “You say you found more of Ferrell Peters’s belongings?” Before anyone could respond, he picked up a couple of pieces of paper and studied them. “This is odd,” he admitted. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, and that’s when he noticed Rags. He pointed. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He’s the reason we had Joe do the digging,” Savannah explained. “Rags went into the tunnel—that burrow I told you about—to save some kittens, and it caved in. He’s trying to clean himself up. I used a horse brush on him. That helped, but what he needs is a bath.”

  Just then they heard a loud snap, and Margaret yelped, “Got her!” She took a closer look at the cat that had stepped into the trap to join the kittens. “Yup, she’s a nursing mother; I’m guessing the mother of these babies.” Hey Michael, how about I take them to the shelter and clean them up. I’ll bring them to you this afternoon.”

  Michael nodded. “Yes. That would be perfect. Hey, how’re things going in Maine with Max? Have you heard from him?”

  “His grandson will be just fine—broke his leg pretty bad, but no internal injuries. He’s home now and Max will fly home probably tomorrow. All good news.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Michael said.

  Craig saw a large man walking toward them. He asked, “Joe—is that your name—you’re the dirt-moving specialist?”

  “Well, I don’t know if I’d say that,” Joe said. “But I can work the machine.”

  “I’d like to see what else is in that hole,” Craig said. “How far down can you dig with that thing?”

  “As far as you want.” Joe shrugged. “Within reason.”

  “Great. Let’s go for it. I have a hunch, and I’ve learned never to dismiss my hunches.”

  “That’s what makes you such a great detective,” Michael said.

  “Sometimes, yeah.”

  A few minutes later Michael said, “Hon, you should get your cat home and give the poor guy a bath.”

  “Yeah. But I think he’ll be okay for a little while longer. I want to see what Craig finds,” she admitted. “Be careful, Joe,” Savannah called out when he headed for the machine. “Could still be cats down there.”

  They all watched nervously as Joe worked the bucket. Suddenly, Craig held up one hand and shouted, “Stop!” He looked over the rim into the hole and called out, “Hey, Joe, can you bring up that box?”

  At Craig’s request, Joe manipulated the bucket and scooped up a deteriorating cardboard box, then dropped it on the rim of the cavern he’d dug.

  Craig poked around in the box with a stick. “Hmmm, looks like Peters was packed and ready to go someplace, or maybe he hadn’t unpacked these things yet. Does anyone know how long they lived here before he went missing?”

  No one responded.

  “Proceed,” Craig called to Joe. “I’ll get an evidence box out of my car for this stuff.” He faced Savannah. “You have some things you found out here, too, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I’ve been wanting to hand them off to someone. I’ll get that stuff to you.”

  “Bingo!” Craig shouted several minutes later.

  “What is that?” Savannah asked, shying away from the crater Joe had created.

  Craig winced. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s our missing Mr. Peters.”

  Savannah put her hands to her chest in horror.

  ****

  “So was that Ferrell Peters?” Margaret asked the following day as she drove out to the cat colony with Savannah.

  “I haven’t heard yet,” Savannah said. “But I imagine it is. Who else could it be?”

  “And you didn’t find any other cats down in there after I left?”

  “No. Just those kittens. How are they?” she asked.

  “They seem to be okay. I took them to the clinic this morning, and Michael agrees with me that one might have an infection from getting some of that dirt in his lungs. Hopefully that will clear up. Those two Rags was lying on are in pretty good shape. Mama’s doing fine as well.” Margaret added, “I think we’re going to take that little family.” She shuddered with delight. “I’m ready for another kitten fix and those are some adorable babies. How’s Rags?”

  “Seems fine. He didn’t like his bath, but it had to be done. You should have seen all the dirt that came off that cat.”

  Margaret chuckled, then said, “I was surprised they let us come back out here so soon. I thought the authorities would keep the place off-limits while they did their investigation.”

  “I guess there’s not much to investigate after such a long time. I did hear someone say yesterday that the body had probably been there for a decade or more.” When Savannah’s phone chimed, she pulled it out. “It’s Craig. Hi, Craig.”

  “Hi, can you talk for a minute?”

  “Yeah, my aunt and I are on our way to feed the colony cats. What’s up?”

  “Whoever that was in the grave may have been killed. It was a blow to the head that did him in. Either he was hit with something or he fell and hit his head and was swallowed up in the mud. But why were all of Ferrell Peters’s papers in that hole?”

  “Do you think it was Ferrell Peters down there?” she asked.

  “Yeah, we’re leaning in that direction, unless…”

  “Unless what, Craig?”

  “Well, unless someone wanted it to look like it was Ferrell Peters—you know, in case the body was ever discovered.” He hesitated, then said, “His wife’s still living.”

  “Yeah?” Savannah said. “Where?”

  “Right here in town. Want to go with me to see her? She’s in one of those nursing facilities.” He explained, “She evidently lost her marbles after Peters went missing, and she’s been there ever since. I don’t know if we can get her to talk or if she even remembers anything, but it’s worth a try. I’d like you to go with me.”

  “Sure, I guess. When?”

  “Well, I wanted to go now, but it sounds like you’re busy. When will you be finished? Oh, and I want you to bring Rags.”

  “To a nursing home?” she asked. “Yes. According to what I read in the old evidence box, Mrs. Peters likes cats and her cat ran off or was swept away that night in the flood, or at least that’s what they think happened. I checked with the director of the nursing home, and she told me volunteers bring in cats occasionally for the residents who like them and that Linda Peters will sometimes talk when the cats are there—you know, talk to the cats. Maybe we can get more of value out of her if we have Rags or one of your other cats with us.”

  “Okay. How about this: I’ll be home in an hour or so, then I’ll help Mom feed the kids. I can slip away while they’re napping.”

  “And what time will that be?” he asked. “Say, one fifteen?”

  “Done. I’ll pick you up.”

  “So what did they find out?” Margaret asked when Savannah ended the call.

  “Nothing much. Craig has located Mrs. Peters.”

  “Linda? Where? I thought she must be dead by now.”

  “No. She’s living right here locally in a nursing home.”