Cats dont squeal, p.19
Cat's Don't Squeal,
p.19
“No!” he shouted, lifting his knees in defense.
“Then start talking.” He stared hard at the man. “And let me remind you that you have the right to remain silent, and if you choose to talk, whatever you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
“No!” Jeremy bellowed. He threatened, “Don’t you dare talk.”
Craig grinned at him. “Maybe you’d like to get to know the cat.”
Jeremy looked nervously at Rags, then sat back and became quiet.
“So, Fred, do you want to tell me all about your friend here, or...” he smiled down at Rags while petting him.
“It was me and my brother John.”
Jeremy shouted out, “Dammit, Fred, don’t do this!”
Craig focused on Fred, asking, “John Droust?”
Fred nodded. “We did it for Sloan. He paid us to do it. We were supposed to get a split, but the money was hot and he didn’t want to put it into circulation for a while. When that gal found the money...”
Craig chuckled. “For your information, it was actually this cat who found it.”
Both men looked nervously at Rags.
“So when they found the money, what?” Craig asked.
“Then Sloan wanted to get the heat off us, so we were going to...”
“Plant this money here and give the cops an anonymous call? Is that it?”
“Something like that,” Fred said, squirming in his chair and avoiding eye contact.
“He’s lying,” Jeremy said.
Craig ignored him. “So who killed the girl?”
“I don’t know,” Fred insisted. “I just know it wasn’t me. I heard that she saw one of the hits go down—you know, saw Jeremy leaving the store with the money. I guess he had to...”
“That didn’t happen!” Jeremy shouted. “I don’t know anything about that girl.”
“Okay,” Craig said, “let’s get the two of you back to your precinct. I’ll let them deal with you bums. And if I ever see either of you, or anyone representing either of you in any sort of criminal activity again, well, I can promise you you’ll never forget it.”
Both men glanced at Rags as they were ushered out of the house.
“All clear?” Michael asked from the top of the stairs after things became quiet in the house.
“Yeah,” Craig said, “Come on down.”
When the two couples emerged, they saw Craig sitting with Rags on his lap, petting him. Rags was purring. “I think he’s smiling,” Craig said. “Look at that face, doesn’t it look like he’s smiling? Good job, partner,” he crooned. “Good job.”
“Is it over?” Savannah asked, her voice shaking.
“Oh yes,” he said. “It’s over. You’re free to stay safely in your own home. Those two will never see the light of day, if I can help it.”
“So why did they come here? What were they going to do?” Holly asked.
“At the least, probably plant the money that Rags found in Sloan’s pocket. At the most, who knows what desperate criminals will do?”
Savannah hugged Craig. “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked. “For doing what I love with the best cat partner around?” He grinned impishly. “I had a blast collaring those two.”
She grinned weakly. “I’m glad you had fun at our expense.” She looked at the others. “Well, let’s go get the little ones and put them back to bed. I guess we’re back to Plan A, huh?” She looked at Holly, then Keith. “You’ll be flying home tomorrow? Can you reinstate those tickets?”’
When Rags jumped down out of Craig’s lap, the detective stood up and headed for the front door. As if it was an afterthought, he said, “By the way, the offer of the cabin still holds.”
Keith’s eyes widened. “I was looking forward to some good fishing.”
“Well, we’re almost packed, and the kids are fired up about going,” Michael said. “Let’s go with Plan B. Okay with everyone?”
“Sure,” Savannah said.
Holly shrugged. “Yeah, I’m game.”
When Savannah saw Craig wince, she asked, “What, Craig? You look like you don’t think it’s a good idea for us to go.”
“No, it’s okay,” he said. “I think you’ll be all right.”
“You think we’ll be all right?” Savannah asked.
“Yeah, what does that mean?” Holly wanted to know.
Craig squirmed a little, then finally said, “Well, I called up there last night to let Skip know you’re coming. He’s the boat tender. Some of us pay him to handle minor problems with our cabins. He’s lived that life forever and knows how to stack wood, light a fire, prime the water pump, fix broken pipes, and things like that.”
“Yeah?” Michael questioned.
“Well, I didn’t get to speak with Skip, but Phyll—Phyllis, his right-hand man...er...woman, told me there’s something unusual going on up there this summer. She didn’t elaborate, but it all sounds kind of mysterious. I just wanted to give you a heads-up in case you’d like to do this another time.”
“Mysterious?” Savannah questioned suspiciously. “In what way?”
He grimaced. “I’m not exactly sure. It seems that something is happening up there to cause some sort of discord within the mountain community. The church is somehow involved, so I’m sure it’s nothing dangerous. Actually, you folks might get a kick out of it. It sounds rather amusing to me. Phyll says the stories coming out in the new local newspaper and being told at concerts and all has livened up a boring summer at the mountain resort.”
“A newspaper and concerts,” Savannah questioned, “in that tiny mountain community?”
Craig raised his eyebrows. “Well, it’s grown since you were up there. More people are moving in rather than renting out their places, and new businesses have opened. Plus, I guess the church is so popular that folks from towns on the other side of the mountain are traveling to participate.”
Savannah tilted her head. “Gosh, sounds quite different from when we were there.”
“Yes, that’s what I’m hearing,” Craig said.
“So what’s going on that so mysterious?” Michael asked.
Craig cleared his throat and coughed. “Well, apparently significant items are showing up in strategic places with mystifying messages attached.” When the others remained quiet, obviously digesting what they’d just heard, Craig took a deep breath, turned back toward the door, and said, “I’m outta here.” He waved over his shoulder. “Have a good time if you decide to go.” He faced Michael and said, “You might want to cover up this broken window before you go to bed.”
“Oh, yes,” he said. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“I’ll help,” Keith said. He then looked at the others, “So, are we going or staying tomorrow?”
“Hey, it sure doesn’t sound like anything’s going on up there that would even remotely involve us,” Savannah said. “Let’s go.”
“Without knowing exactly what’s going on?” Michael asked.
Holly laughed. “It can’t be anything as dramatic as what you’ve gone through these past few weeks.”
Michael shrugged. “I guess you’re right.”
“Okay, then,” Keith said. “Plan B it is—for better or for worse.”
Michael grinned at Savannah. “It’s gotta be for better, since your cat’s not going with us.”
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Patricia Fry, Cat's Don't Squeal
