Iris nodded. “I’ve lost control,” she said, choking up. “My staff is upset; one of them has taken a leave of absence because of the problem. My own cats are somehow caught up in this hurricane of cats coming and going. Plus, I’m working around the clock at the inn, and my husband isn’t happy about that.”

  Savannah comforted Iris as Margaret asked, “Hasn’t Rags been able to help?”

  Savannah closed her eyes momentarily and sighed deeply.

  “Yeah, sounds like this case is right up his alley,” Janice said. “Have you taken him over there, Savannah?”

  “He sure was a help with the feral cats out at the stables,” Margaret confirmed.

  “And at the Fischer Building,” Colbi added.

  When Savannah saw that all eyes were on her, she said, “Well, I…”

  “Have you taken him over there?” Margaret asked.

  “Uh…no. Not yet. We just got home, guys,” she protested. Her voice cracked when she explained, “I lost him in San Francisco.” When the others gasped, she said, “He spent two days locked up. I didn’t know where he was.”

  “And an owl and a parrot saved his life,” Gladys explained.

  “What?” Margaret asked.

  “An owl?” Betty cried.

  “You’ll have to tell us about that, Savannah,” Janice said, wide-eyed. “What happened?”

  Before she could respond, Michael walked in. Everyone greeted him and he acknowledged them as he sat down next to Savannah. “What have I missed?” he asked.

  “Your wife is going to tell us about Rags’s latest adventure,” Margaret said.

  He glanced at Savannah and asked, “Did I miss the discussion about the wild parade of cats at the Kaiser Inn?”

  “No,” Janice assured him. “We just asked Savannah about taking Rags over there to possibly uncover the mystery, and she started to tell us about something that happened in the city over the weekend.”

  He glanced at his wife again and asked, “Well, may I make a suggestion? I’ve met some of the cats that are finding their way into the inn, and I have to say most of them seem to be nice cats—well-cared for, healthy, calm. I’ve also started checking out the structure to see if I can figure out where the cats are coming from.”

  “Yes?” Margaret said, eagerly. “So what’s going on over there? Who let the cats out?” she said, tongue in cheek.

  Michael shook his head. “I don’t know. Having Rags on the premises might lead to some answers, but I had another thought. Maybe we’ll learn more about what’s happening if we have more eyes on the situation. Has a black hole full of cats opened up underneath the inn? Is someone bringing them in? I think if we have more people watching, we’ll have a better chance of learning how they’re getting in and where they’re coming from.”

  “What?” Iris asked. “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s try to get some volunteers over there to hang out at key areas where you think the cats are entering. With more sets of eyes, we’re bound to make some crucial discoveries.” Michael shook his head. “It can’t be all that complex. We’re talking cats, after all, not snakes or mice that can slither and scoot through tiny openings.” He glanced at Iris. “As I understand it, the chef might find a cat in the pantry. Later Iris meets up with one or more in an upstairs bathroom. What we need to do is watch all of the areas where cats seem to show up or disappear from and see exactly what’s happening.” He looked at Iris. “How would you feel about hosting a slumber party?”

  “At this point I’d be open to entertaining a herd of buffalo if I thought they could help resolve this mystery,” Iris quipped. “Yes. I’m desperate.”

  “Okay, who would like to be part of this informal investigation?” Michael asked.

  “There’s wine and chocolate in it,” Iris bribed.

  Savannah chuckled. She looked at Michael. “I guess we will.”

  “And Rags?” Iris asked.

  Savannah nodded reluctantly.

  “Max and I’ll be there,” Margaret said.

  “I’d like to help,” Janice said, “but I’m not bringing any cats to the party.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Iris said.

  “Damon and I’ll be there if you think Rosemary’s safe. I don’t want her swallowed up by the ethers.”

  “Oh, Colbi,” Margaret huffed, “this is not a séance or an exorcism.”

  “How do you know that?” Iris asked.

  “Luke and I can probably make it,” Nola said, “if things are quiet at the cat ranch that night. When?”

  “Tonight?” Michael suggested. He turned to Iris. “Do you have any guest reservations tonight?”

  She shook her head. “Not until this crisis is over.” She smiled. “But Mattie’s making a stew this afternoon. I’ll have her add to it and maybe bake a couple of pies and a batch of biscuits. Come at six and we’ll have dinner together.”

  “Okay then, tonight,” Michael confirmed.

  ◆◆◆

  “Mom, are you sure you don’t want to go with us tonight?” Savannah asked late that afternoon. “The kids will be all right sleeping there with us. It might be kind of fun.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I think I’d feel better keeping them at home. They’ll rest easier, don’t you think so? In fact, Rosemary can stay with us too, if Damon and Colbi would like to bring her over.”

  “I think they’ve decided to leave her with Harrison and Leah. Rosemary loves to play with her cousin, Charlie. Thank you, though.” She slipped into her jacket. “I’m going out to feed the horses before we go.”

  “All packed?” Gladys asked.

  “Yeah, what do you need just for overnight—jammies, toothbrush, comb…”

  “That’s all you have in that bulging overnight bag?”

  “Well, yes, and Michael’s jammies, toothbrush, comb, change of clothes for both of us, our robes, flashlight…”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Gladys said, laughing.

  “Oops. There goes my phone,” Savannah said just before stepping outside. When she saw that it was Rochelle calling, she walked into the living room and sat down. “Hi, girlfriend. Thanks for returning my call. How are you and the little green critters and Simon? Is he settling in okay?”

  “We’re all great,” Rochelle said. “Thank you for asking. The boy is wonderful. He loves those little parrots, and Matilda is saying a few words now.”

  “Oh?”

  “Simon’s a chatterbox. I’m pretty sure she picked them up from him.”

  “Like what?” Savannah asked, amused. “What’s she saying?”

  “Raaad,” Rochelle said laughing, “and something we can’t quite understand.”

  “I’m so glad Simon’s doing well. Will you enroll him in school?”

  “Yes, we started the process today. He’s excited. We met his friends—you know, the ones he told us about—Benny and Cricket.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, Benny’s fifteen and seems to be a wealth of information—or maybe misinformation—about the city. Cricket is Benny’s sister. She’s a reserved young lady of seventeen. She aspires to be a recording artist and she’d like to do voiceover work. Benny’s trying to help her raise money by recycling cans to pay her way to Hollywood. She sang for us and boy, does she have a voice. She’s quiet until she sings, then wow! Peter and I are going to try giving her a helping hand. He knows people in the film industry. He wondered if Rob does too.”

  “Yes, I believe so. Yeah, Rob might be willing to help. Give him a call.”

  “I will, thanks. So how are you? How’s Rags?”

  “Okay. He seems a little clingy is all, but that will probably pass. Hey, let me run something by you.”

  “What’s going on, Savannah? You sounded a little out of sorts in your message earlier.”

  “Well, it’s a strange situation. Iris is being inundated with cats at the inn and no one can figure out where they’re coming from or where they’re going?”

  “Where they’re going?”

  “Yes. They come and they go and then a batch of different cats might show up. Her cats will disappear sometimes for an hour or even a couple of days. One’s still missing.”

  “Oh. Sounds like they’ve found a way out.” She giggled. “…like Rags does sometimes, right? And the neighborhood cats are using the escape-route to come inside.”

  “It would appear so, and that’s what I thought, but this problem is bigger than that, or so it seems.” Savannah hesitated. “Some of the cats are showing up as if they’ve just returned from another era—usually the renaissance period.”

  “What?” Rochelle squealed.

  “Yeah, they’re wearing elaborate costumes.”

  “Well, isn’t that odd?”

  “Rochelle, Iris is at her wits’ end, and I told her I’d call you and see if you have any insight into what’s happening or what to do about this.”

  Rochelle laughed. “She doesn’t see the humor in it?”

  “No. Maybe at first, but no, now that there are so many cats and they’re being rather destructive—you know, eliminating outside the litter box, knocking over vases of flowers, scrounging around in the pantry.”

  “How many cats are we talking about?” Rochelle asked.

  “Maybe a dozen or more,” Savannah said.

  “Good golly. Yes, I can see how there could be damage and destruction with that many cats coming and going. And she can’t find where they’re getting in or where they’re coming from? Is there a pattern to their activities or behavior?”

  “Not from what I can tell. They’re like out of control—unpredictable. Iris isn’t even renting out any rooms. She believes it’s too dangerous. I mean, we don’t know anything about these cats, but I have to say, those I’ve seen are fairly calm. I haven’t witnessed any destructive behavior that’s out of the ordinary—cats shredding drapes, hanging from chandeliers, chewing electric cords, attacking people…”

  “Can’t you trap the cats and take them to a shelter?”

  “That was my original solution. Iris has actually caught a few of them and had Michael check them over to make sure they aren’t rabid or anything. But it seems to be a larger problem than that. We’re seeking a more permanent solution, and that means we need to find out what’s actually going on—where these beautiful cats are coming from. It’s not your typical feral-cat rescue situation.”

  “So what do you think it is?” Rochelle asked.

  “So far we don’t have a clue. That’s why I called you. Can you see anything or sense anything or whatever it is you do that would help us to understand what’s going on? We want to do what’s in the cats’ best interest as well as Iris’s.”

  “Whew! Let me think about it,” Rochelle said. “Actually, I had a couple of images while you were talking, but they don’t make a lot of sense.” She sighed. “Sometimes it helps to share everything that comes to me, though, so I’m going to do that and hope it doesn’t just confuse the issue. Here’s some stream-of-consciousness prattle. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Absolutely not,” Savannah said. “We’re at a roadblock now. We’d appreciate any and all of your impressions.”

  “Okay then. Well, Rags was heavy on my mind as you spoke.”

  “Heavy?” Savannah questioned.

  “I mean he was part of my thoughts. Will he be summoned?”

  “Summoned?” Savannah repeated, laughing. “Actually, yes. A group of us, including Rags, will spend the night at the inn tonight to see if we can figure any of this out.”

  “Oh,” Rochelle said.

  “What?” Savannah asked.

  “Well, just keep him tethered, that’s all. I can see him being tempted or lured back to where the cats are coming from and…” She hesitated. “Well, you could lose him at the other end. I sense that it wouldn’t be a bad thing for Rags; he would probably be okay, but you would be hurting. So hold him close tonight.”

  “Oh my gosh, maybe I should leave him at home.”

  “Savannah, he will be helpful. That I can tell you. But it’s not without risk.” She paused, then said, “I truly believe he won’t be permanently displaced, but listen to him, watch him. He will lead. Follow, but follow closely. Know what I mean?”

  “I hope so. Where do you think he’ll lead us? Can you at least glimpse what’s taking place? Michael thinks it’s a vortex opening up and spewing forth cats.”

  Rochelle laughed. “Michael said that?”

  “Well, something sort of like that.”

  “Boy, are you guys reaching for straws. No, Savannah, I don’t believe it’s anything ethereal. If you ask me…” she chuckled, “…and you have, I’d say you’re dealing with reality offset a little. I want to use the word delusion—not illusion, but delusion. Oh, what you’re experiencing is real, but I sense that the core of the mystery has something to do with the arts gone astray—perhaps theater arts.”

  “The arts gone astray?” Savannah repeated. “What does that mean?”

  “I’m not sure. All I can do is to repeat or try to describe what’s coming to me. My job is not to decipher it. When I try to do that, I’m often wrong. That’s why I don’t usually verbalize the fragments of thoughts that zing into and out of my mind.” Rochelle was quiet for a moment, then said, “That’s pretty much it.”

  “Oh. Well, thank you, I think.”

  Rochelle laughed. “Now you see what I live with—you know, in my head. It’s not always a pretty picture.”

  “Well, I do appreciate you sharing.”

  “Savannah, some of this may begin to make sense as you gather more information. In fact, I’d love to hear what you ultimately learn about the cats. I’d like to be able to connect all the dots in my head.”

  “Sure,” Savannah said. “Again, thank you. I’ll be in touch. Hugs to Simon, Peter, and the birdies.”

  “Thank you. And good luck with your latest cat challenge. This one could become another best-selling book for you.”

  Chapter Three

  “Well, hi there,” Craig greeted when the Iveys arrived at the inn. “It’s about time. They’re holding up dinner for you, and I’m hungry.”

  Savannah took a step back. “Oh, I’m sorry, Craig. It’s just so hard to get away from the kids sometimes.”

  “Yeah,” Michael added, “Lily couldn’t figure out why Rags got to go bye-bye and she didn’t.”

  “We had to bring out the big guns,” Savannah said, chuckling.

  “A new toy?” Iris asked, joining them.

  Savannah shook her head. “No, pink ice cream.”

  Iris laughed. “I remember those days of bribery and little white lies.”

  Just then a tall young man approached and put his arm around Iris. “You bribed us?”

  “Brett!” Savannah said. “Nice to see you.”

  “Yeah, I thought I’d surprise Mom and Craig with a visit between semesters and found out I’m crashing a slumber party.”

  “Well, it’s a welcome surprise, I’m sure,” Michael said, shaking hands with him.

  “It sure is,” Iris said, smiling at her son.

  When Damon entered the room, he playfully punched his brother on the shoulder, saying, “Hey, what happened to you? Weren’t you going to help me?”

  “I thought we were finished with that job. You left me there,” Brett complained.

  “I went to get a hammer. Now come on, I need you to hold something for me.”

  Brett followed, saying, “You’re not going to hammer my thumb like you did last time we tried to do a repair, are you?”

  “How nice to see him,” Savannah said. “How long will he be here?”

  “A few days.” Iris’s eyes lit up. “Chris is driving up from San Diego tomorrow.” She shimmied. “It’ll be the first time all three boys have been together in—gosh probably four or five years.”

  Savannah looped her arm in Iris’s as they walked into the dining room. “You’re beaming, mama bear.”

  “I’m beyond happy.” Iris cringed. “I just wish we didn’t have that cat calamity hanging heavy this week. Then it would be perfect.” She leaned over and addressed Rags, who was at the end of his leash. “Hi, pretty boy. Welcome to the party.”

  Craig chuckled. “If he does his job tonight, he’ll be the party.”

  “And what do you expect him to do?” Savannah asked, wincing.

  Craig waved his arms. “Solve the sticky cat problem, of course.”

  Savannah and Michael exchanged looks. She said, “Well, I hope he can be of some help, but I don’t know, Craig. This situation seems to be broader than most he’s dealt with. Don’t you think so?”

  Craig shook his head. “I don’t see any difference, Savannah. No difference at all. If he can identify a crook, rescue kittens, keep a baby from falling off a balcony, and all that other stuff he’s done, he can surely get to the bottom of this mystery.”

  “Who can?” Margaret asked, entering from the kitchen with a tray of wine glasses and two bottles of wine.

  “Hi, Auntie,” Savannah said. “Craig thinks Rags has the answer to the cat mystery.”

  Margaret smirked playfully at Craig and placed the tray on the buffet. “Let’s hope he can open a few doors for us.” She leaned over and addressed Rags. “Hi there, old boy. Have you been sharpening your kitty-cat intuition?”

  “So where will we sleep tonight?” Savannah asked. “I want to get Rags settled in his pen while we eat dinner.”

  “Oh, sorry,” Iris said, sounding a little frazzled. “I’m falling down on my job.”

  “I’ll show them,” Ruth offered.

  “Hi, Ruth,” Savannah greeted. “How’re you feeling? I mean, after your fall the other day.”

  “Just fine.”

  “And Rupert—how’s he holding up under this mystery burden?”

  “He’s okay. He’s helping my sister in the kitchen right now.” Ruth chuckled. “Mattie’s been giving him cooking lessons. He’s really taking to it, especially baking.”

  “Nice. So does he enjoy gardening, too? Isn’t that what he usually does?”

  “Yes. He’s in charge of the gardening crew and he sometimes helps Clara with the laundry.” Ruth leaned toward Savannah. “He’d make a good wife.”