“So who?” Savannah asked.

  “Probably Papo.”

  Savannah said more quietly, “But it seems to me that Justine still harbors a lot of hate.” She faced Craig. “And why? It sounds like she had a nice upbringing with people who cared about her.” She frowned. “Yes, why the hate? Craig, I think there’s more to her story than meets the eye.”

  He grinned. “How astute of you, Detective Savannah.”

  “So is she a suspect?”

  “She’s on my top-three list.”

  “Three, huh?”

  He nodded “Yes, Justine, Arnie Seacrest, and Linda Peters.”

  “Linda Peters?”

  “Sure. I doubt she’s as pure as she pretends to be. At the very least, she knows who killed her husband. Why else would she be blackmailing poor old Arnie—you know, Papo?”

  “You think she’s blackmailing him?”

  Craig grinned at her. “Don’t you? How else could she afford to live like she does?”

  Savannah thought this over for a few moments, then asked, “What about Mrs. Seacrest—Vickie?”

  “Yeah, she could have something to do with it, but I don’t actually have a reason to put her in the race yet.”

  “Race?” Savannah questioned, laughing.

  More quietly, Craig said, “She could be the dark horse…she sure could be.”

  Chapter Eight

  “So how was your meeting with Ferrell’s daughter?” Margaret asked later that day as she and Savannah drove toward the Teague place.

  “Okay, I guess. It was kind of an eye-opener. She really disliked her father. She didn’t know him, but it seems that she was programmed or taught to hate him. When she was still a girl, he gave her a box of his treasures—well, letters between him and her mom, and military memorabilia. She was totally annoyed by that. It’s too bad for both of them that she refused his attempts to establish a relationship. She wasn’t even interested enough or curious enough about him to look at the things in the box, until her stepfather suggested there might be something of value in there.” She winced. “Now, Justine might be charged with her father’s murder.”

  “What?” Margaret bellowed. She shook her head. “That would be a shame. I hear that Justine’s finally straightening up—serious about raising her son away from the drug scene and all. Poor Vickie. It hasn’t been easy.”

  “Now, how do you know the family?” Savannah asked.

  “Well, she’s our new treasurer for the cat alliance,” Margaret started.

  “That Vickie is Justine’s mother?” Savannah asked, surprised. “And the city councilman’s wife?”

  Margaret nodded. “Yes. Haven’t you met her?”

  “No. Remember, I was gone when she was elected, and she didn’t attend the meeting the other day.” Savannah thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I do remember someone saying her husband is Arnie Seacrest. So our new treasurer is the wife of that crazed city-council guy who might be bribing Linda Peters?”

  “Bribing her?” Margaret repeated. “How so? Why? How do you know this?”

  “Oh, well, Mrs. Peters lives pretty high, and as I understand it, she doesn’t have any money, and…” Savannah said more dramatically, “we saw him leave her suite yesterday and boy, was he angry.” She asked, “So how did Vickie Seacrest get involved with the cat alliance?”

  “The Seacrests live in Edie’s neighborhood. They have a few cats. I guess Edie and Vickie got to talking one day and Vickie thought she might like to join us. When our treasurer retired—you know, she hasn’t been well—Vickie offered to take over. Now we have that discrepancy in our bank balance.” Margaret waved her hand. “Oh, I’m sure it’s simply a huge misunderstanding that we’ll all laugh about in a few weeks.” She faced Savannah. “Are Michael and Bud ready for two more cats?”

  “I think so.”

  Minutes later as Savannah edged out of the car, she pointed. “Look!”

  “What?”

  “What’s that cat lying on out there?” She looked through her binoculars and chuckled. “Looks like he’s made himself a shredded-paper nest.” She lowered the glasses. “I used to have a cat that did that. Do you remember her? She wasn’t with us for long. I think we named her Missy or Misty.”

  Margaret shook her head. “I don’t remember that one, but then, you were always dragging cats home. That was probably a neighbor’s cat, and you didn’t keep her long because she went home where she belonged.”

  “You’re probably right,” Savannah said. She looked at the cat again. “Kittens,” she muttered.

  “What?”

  She handed her aunt the binoculars. “I think she’s in labor. Darn it? Is she one of the friendly ones you told me about?”

  “Let’s hope so,” Margaret said. Using the binoculars, she studied the cat. “Looks like she needs help. There’s quite a bit of blood on that shredded paper.” She thought for a moment, then suggested, “Get a carrier ready and call Michael. I’ll see if I can get my hands on her.”

  “Take the net, Auntie.”

  After thinking about it, Margaret said, “Let me try to make friends with her. Sometimes a laboring cat will accept help. The last thing I want to do is traumatize her.” She winced. “I wish we had Rags with us. He might be able to help with this one.”

  Savannah grinned. “See, you do appreciate his skills and talents.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Margaret griped as she walked slowly toward the cat.

  Soon Margaret returned with the cat cradled in her arms.

  “Hi there, sweet thing,” Savannah cooed, helping her aunt ease the cat into a carrier. After closing the door, she crooned, “You’ll be okay. We’re going to get you some help. You just relax.” She said to Margaret while placing the carrier in the back of the car, “Bud’s waiting for us. Let’s go.” But Margaret didn’t seem to be listening. “What are you looking at now?” Savannah asked impatiently. We’ve got to get this cat to the clinic.”

  “Something’s not right.”

  “What?”

  “Well, I’m not sure.” After staring out into the trees for a few more moments, Margaret turned and joined Savannah at the car. “Vannie, let’s take the cat to Bud and bring Rags back here. I want him to check something out.”

  ****

  “Dr. Bud’s waiting for you,” Scarlett said, peering into the carrier when Savannah placed it on the counter. “Oooh, she’s having kittens, isn’t she? I see one cresting.”

  “Yes,” Margaret said, “and I think it’s stuck.”

  “Hi,” Bud greeted. He looked into the carrier. “Let’s get her back there. Thanks for bringing her in.” He called, “Pamela, can you assist? We’re going to have kittens.”

  “Let’s go get Rags,” Margaret said, pulling out of the parking lot minutes later.

  “Why, Auntie? What did you see out there?”

  “Well, it’s just that I think there should be more cat activity. I wonder if the cats have found another place to hide. If so, your cat can flush them out. We need to know where they are so we can watch them more closely.”

  Once the two women were on their way back to the colony with Rags, Margaret said, “I’ve been thinking about you spending all that time with the detective talking to possible killers. Why do you do that, Vannie—you know, put yourself in danger like that?”

  Savannah shrugged. “I don’t know. I want to help where I can, and I find it kind of interesting and exciting.”

  “You are your cat’s human, you know.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Savannah asked. “Always digging for clues and putting your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  Savannah smirked at her aunt.

  “Okay, here we are,” Margaret said. “Put the long leash on him. He can probably get closer to the cats than we can.”

  The two women walked with Rags through the brush and around the trees. Rags stopped several times and sniffed here and there. He looked up into the trees and got excited when he saw a squirrel.

  “Oh so we’re feeding squirrels too, are we?” Margaret carped. “Scat, squirrel. Go find your own kind.”

  “There!” Savannah whispered, pointing. “See how he’s kind of sneaking up on something. He has probably found some of the cats.”

  Margaret nodded. “Let’s watch and see what comes out of that area. Yeah, there they are. I guess all the activity caused them to move away from where they once felt safe. Now they’re hanging out in that gully. Good job, Rags. See them, Vannie?”

  She nodded. “Yes, shall we set the traps out here, then?”

  “Yup! Call off Rags and let’s move the traps closer to the cats.”

  “Then I need to get home,” Savannah said. “I’ve been gone way too much lately.”

  ****

  Savannah had been home for just a few minutes when her phone chimed. “Hi, Craig, What’s going on?”

  “I had a talk with that city councilman, Arnie Seacrest.”

  “Yeah?”

  “He’s sure a nervous son-of-a-gun. I don’t know if it’s because we’re close to learning some of his secrets or if he’s just wired that way, but I did get a couple of things out of him.” He chuckled. “Sometimes these jumpy characters are quick to spill the beans—they talk before they think.” Craig paused. “He told me something rather interesting. Don’t know if he meant to or not.”

  “What?”

  “I get the impression that he used to date Linda Peters, and I don’t think it was a high school crush. From the things he let slip, I believe they were having an affair.” He laughed. “I also learned that he’s a wannabe hipster.”

  “Hipster?” she questioned.

  “Yeah, or hippy, or I don’t know what, but he’s into skulls—carries one on his keychain. I saw it lying on his desk.” When she didn’t respond, he said, “Anyway, I’d like to have another chat with Mrs. Peters and see if I can get her to talk about him. Want to help me out with that?”

  “Oh, Craig, I’ve been gone almost all day. I really shouldn’t…” Before she could finish, Gladys waved a hand at her. “Just a minute, Craig.” She faced her mother. “What, Mom?”

  “Go with Craig if he needs your help. We’ll be fine.”

  “Craig, I’m kind of tired, but Mom’s encouraging me to go with you. So yeah. Let me freshen up. Can you give me half hour?”

  “Sure. Bring the cat.”

  Savannah let out a deep sigh. “If you say so.”

  ****

  Forty minutes later the detective and his unlikely partners rode the elevator to the second floor of Glen Meadows. “Does she know we’re coming?” Savannah asked.

  Craig grinned. “She’s looking forward to seeing Rags again.” He cleared his throat. “However, I felt it was only right to reveal who I am and that I want to ask her a few questions. I think she saw us merely as Rags’s handlers before.”

  “And she was okay with that?” Savannah asked. “I mean to learn that you’re a detective?”

  “Seemed to be.” He chuckled. “I didn’t reveal the cat’s professional status, though. As far as she knows he’s just your ordinary therapy cat.”

  Savannah grinned when he put his finger against his lips in a shushing gesture.

  “Hello,” Linda Peters greeted when she opened the door. She looked down at the cat, who was wrapping himself around Savannah’s ankles. “Hi there, Rags,” she chirped. “You’re a mighty handsome fellow in your blue harness.” She looked at the others and invited, “Come in, won’t you?”

  She led them through the small foyer into the sitting room and motioned toward a pair of matching chairs. “Please sit down. I was just finishing a cup of tea.” She looked at Savannah, then Craig. “Can I offer you some tea? I love tea. It’s good for what ails you. I always have a selection of tea on hand—peppermint for my stomach, chamomile for anxiety, hibiscus for blood pressure, Echinacea if I’m feeling poorly…”

  She smiled. “That’s practically the entire extent of my medicine cabinet.”

  “Sounds like some healthy alternatives,” Savannah agreed.

  “May I brew you a cup?” Linda asked again.

  Savannah shook her head, as did Craig. “No, thank you.” When Savannah felt a tug on Rags’s leash, she said, “No, Rags. You stay here with me.”

  “Oh, let him snoop,” Linda suggested. “Cats love to snoop. He’ll be just fine.”

  Savannah glanced at Craig, then said to Linda, “He can be a little…”

  Their hostess waved her hand. “Let him go. He’s all right.”

  “You don’t have any open windows, do you?” Savannah asked.

  Linda frowned. “Heavens no. I don’t want varmints or bugs in here. They’re all shut tight. I have heating and air conditioning, you know.”

  Savannah removed Rags’s harness and ran her hand over his fur, saying, “Be a good boy, now.”

  Craig grinned as the cat disappeared into another room.

  “Do come back when you’re finished exploring, Rags,” Linda called. “I’d love to talk to you again.”

  “Mrs. Peters,” Craig said, sitting forward in his chair, “are you aware that the body of your husband, Ferrell Peters, has been found?”

  The woman stared down at her hands and nodded. “Yes, I learned of that just today. I guess he didn’t leave me. He was there on our property the entire time.”

  After several minutes of silence, Craig said, “May I ask, Mrs. Peters, what is Arnie Seacrest to you?”

  Obviously flustered, Linda stammered. “Um…well, nothing, really. Why would you ask such a thing?”

  “We saw Mr. Seacrest leaving your suite yesterday. Are you related? Business partners?” He hesitated before adding, “Lovers?”

  Linda acted even more uncomfortable. She glanced around the room as if trying to decide what to say or what to do. “Oh, here comes Rags. My goodness, Rags, what do you have there?” She stood and approached the cat. “What did you find? Why, that’s nothing for you to see. Where did you get that?” She scolded. “You’d better give it to me.”

  Curious and a bit concerned, Savannah moved closer to Linda and the cat. “It looks like a book in a pouch.”

  “A book?” Craig asked. “What kind of a book?”

  Linda snatched the pouch away from the cat and held it to herself protectively. “It’s my journal, if you must know. He obviously snooped where he doesn’t belong, and how he dragged it this far, I can’t imagine.”

  “A journal, huh?” Craig said, leaning back in his chair. “There must be something in there that would be important for us to know.” When Linda appeared bewildered by his statement, he said, “What we’re after—what we need from you, Mrs. Peters, is information that will help us to find your husband’s killer.”

  “Killer?” she shrieked. “But if he didn’t leave me, he must have drowned in the flood that night. Why would someone want to kill Ferrell?”

  “That’s what we’d like to know,” Craig said. “The thing is, Mrs. Peters, I’m investigating your husband’s murder, and I’d like a chance to look through that journal there. Do you think it might be of value to the investigation?”

  “Um…” she stalled.

  “Surely there’s something in there that you maybe have forgotten about.” When the woman remained silent, Craig continued, “I have to tell you, Mrs. Peters, the cat is quite expert at finding what we need to solve a case, and I think he just brought us some evidence right there. How about letting us take it? Would that be all right?” When Linda just stared at him, he attempted a bluff. “Of course, we can get a warrant. That would be no problem.”

  Seemingly ignoring him, Linda slipped the journal behind her in the chair and reached for Rags. “Come here, boy,” she said. “I have a story to tell you.”

  Craig nodded at Savannah and she removed Rags’s harness, then pulled his blanket out of her tote, put it on a small footstool, and urged the cat to hop up onto it.

  “How do you make him do that?” Linda asked.

  “He does book signings with me, and I’ve sort of trained him to lie on his blanket. When the blanket comes out he settles down—usually.”

  Linda seemed not to be listening. She petted Rags and cooed to him quietly, and finally settled back in her chair. “Rags, I was pretty back then. My husband’s attention was on that awful little ranch of his. He was either working with the animals or repairing something or sleeping. I was placed on the back burner. I felt unloved. Rags, do you know what it’s like to feel unloved and unappreciated?”

  She sat up straighter and said proudly, “Another man appreciated me. He started out being a friend of Ferrell’s, but he was really interested in me. He knew what I needed—what I wanted, and he took care of me, until…”

  She looked angry for a moment, then serene. “My husband found out. How could he not know? I left him enough clues. All I wanted was my marriage back.

  When Ferrell found out about the other man, he was furious, but not as angry as my lover was. Ferrell was ready to do anything I wanted.”

  Her voice took on an evil tone when she said, “He even gave up trying to make a relationship with that illegitimate daughter of his.” She scowled. “She didn’t want Ferrell in her life; I finally convinced him of that, and we were ready to have a new beginning—me and my darling Ferrell.”

  Linda sat back in the chair and closed her eyes for a while, then took a deep breath and began petting Rags again. “When Ferrell left me, I was destitute. My inheritance was gone. Ferrell was not a good provider. All he had was that rundown property. Well, the other man, you see, started coming around again, and I saw an opportunity, Rags.”

  She leaned closer to him. “You probably can’t understand this, but Ferrell was gone and I was left. I had to find a way to get my needs taken care of. End of story.”

  She let out a deep sigh, leaned back against the chair again, and closed her eyes. After several seconds, Craig said, “Linda?” She didn’t move. “Linda?” He stood and approached her.