Bernice lowered her brow. “No way.”

  “It’s true. His mother was a purebred ragdoll.”

  “Wow. Whoever the father was sure had the dominant gene.” She smiled when she saw Pauline rub her cheek against Rags’s face. “Oh, look, they like each other.”

  “They sure do,” Michael said. “They seem enamored with each other.”

  “Like soul mates,” Bernice said. “Kitty-cat soul mates.”

  “Where did she come from?” Savannah asked, running her hand over Pauline’s head and back.

  “Well, it’s a sad story, actually.” She glanced at Adam and Lily. “But the bottom line is, she found her way here, where she gets fed and loved—well, by some patrons. I worry about her because she’s out of her element here. She should be living the good life—the easy life with a family who loves her.”

  Savannah frowned down at the cat. “How long has she been on her own?”

  “We finally rescued her a little over a month ago. You know, I think she’s been waiting for you. I’ve never seen her behave quite like this with anyone else who has come in here.”

  “Well, how many people bring a handsome cat with them to breakfast?” Michael joked.

  “Don’t you want to keep her?” Adam asked Bernice, running his hand over Pauline’s fur.

  Bernice shook her head. “No. Like I said, this is no life for a cat like this.”

  When Pauline stepped into Adam’s lap and began rubbing her face against his, the boy smiled and held her to him. “She really does like us.” He looked at Bernice. “Do you think she’d like the beach? We’re going to the beach for two weeks at a beach house.”

  “I believe Pauline would be happy wherever you and Rags are. She seems to have put her special mark on you. Look, she’s even trying to engage the little fellow there.”

  Everyone laughed, watching Teddy pat Pauline. Adam took the baby’s hand and guided him in petting her nicely and the cat responded by purring.

  “She is a sweet thing,” Savannah said. “Michael?”

  “No!” he spat. “We don’t need another animal, especially while we’re on vacation.”

  It didn’t take long for the family to change Michael’s mind, however. “Okay, okay,” he said as they prepared to leave the café several minutes later. “Bernice, tell me, is there anything we should know about this beautiful cat before we commit to her?”

  Savannah frowned. “That’s a strange question, Michael. We’ve just spent nearly an hour getting to know her. She’s wonderful with the children, Rags likes her, she seems to have good manners, and she’s as sweet as can be. What else do we need to know about her?”

  “Yeah, Dad. She’s a perfect cat.”

  Michael ignored his family’s comments. Instead, he waited for Bernice’s response. “Well?” he prompted. When he saw the woman grin, he mumbled, “That’s what I thought. Okay, Bernice, give. What’s wrong with her?”

  “Nothing’s wrong with her,” she insisted. “She’s exactly as you have observed today—a really nice cat.”

  “No litter box issues or...” he asked.

  “No,” Bernice said, shaking her head. “Nothing like that.” She ran her hand over Pauline’s head as Adam held her and said, “Well, she does have a secret, but I think I’ll let her tell you about it.”

  “A secret?” Michael carped.

  “It’s nothing bad. She’s everything you’ve observed here this morning, plus one charming habit.” When a caravan of cars pulled into the café parking lot, Bernice yelped, “Oh, gotta go. We’re expecting a big group in this morning. Looks like they’re here.” She headed toward the kitchen, then turned and waved, calling out, “So nice to see you all again. Enjoy Miss Pauline.”

  ****

  The Iveys had traveled toward their destination for about an hour when Adam said. “Thanks, Dad, for letting us have Pauline. I sure do like her, and so does Rags. Look, they’re licking each other. Rags is sharing his bed with her on top of the pen and they’re giving each other a bath.”

  “We don’t even know if she’s been inoculated,” Michael complained.

  “Yes we do,” Savannah said brightly, smiling back at the two cats. “Bernice knows who had her. When they turned the cat over to her, she insisted on knowing her background. She just emailed Pauline’s records to me. She’s had all of her shots, but she’s due for her boosters and it looks like she needs a dose of flea control. I know veterinarians in the area...”

  “You do?” Michael asked facetiously.

  She smirked playfully at him, then said, “I’ll get her in to see one of my former colleagues first thing tomorrow morning and we’ll have all that taken care of.” She shivered. “Oh, Michael, I just love her, and Adam does too. I’m so glad we saved her from the danger of traffic so close to the café, wild animals out there in that wilderness area, and all. She deserves a good home.”

  “And what do I deserve?” Michael grumbled.

  Savannah smiled. “You get to enjoy Pauline along with the rest of us.” She turned toward the backseat. “Adam we’ll have to leash-train her. Want to help me with that?”

  “Sure,” he said, “but that waitress lady...”

  “Bernice?” Savannah offered.

  “Yes, Bernice. She said Pauline doesn’t run away.” He thought for a minute. “Maybe that’s her secret. She’s a trained cat and doesn’t need a leash like Rags does.”

  “Could be, I guess,” Savannah said. “But I think we need to make sure she’s safe when we take her out.” She chuckled. “And from the looks of it, Pauline won’t want to be left behind when we go someplace.”

  “That’s it!” Michael said.

  “What?” Savannah asked.

  “She has separation anxiety and she’ll trash the house if we go somewhere and leave her behind. That’s her secret.” He glanced at Savannah a couple of times while he drove. “Now that’s not going to work for us. We can’t have a cat that destroys our belongings.”

  “Oh, Michael,” Savannah soothed, “if that’s the case, she’ll just have to stay in a pen when we’re gone. But I doubt...”

  “How do you know?” Michael insisted.

  “I don’t know, but I just doubt it. Anyway, I think Bernice would have warned us if that was a problem.” She pulled a newspaper from her tote bag and opened it.

  “Oh, you found a paper?” Michael asked.

  “Yes, at the café. I want to see if there’s anything in here about John and Ed.”

  He squinted. “John and Ed?”

  “Yeah, you know—those two guys at the restaurant where we had lunch yesterday—where Rags found all that money and,” she said more quietly, “whatever else was buried there.” After reading for a few minutes, she chuckled.

  “What’s funny?” Michael asked.

  “Well, Adam was right. Someone may have buried their dirty clothes behind the shrubbery.”

  “Really?” Adam said. “So they don’t have to do their laundry?”

  “That’s probably not the reason,” Savannah said.

  “Then why?” he asked.

  “Yeah, why?” Michael repeated.

  “I’m getting to that part. Let’s see, it was a jacket and...uh-oh, it had blood on it. I guess that’s why someone buried it.”

  “Yeah, blood’s hard to get out of stuff,” Adam agreed. “My mom doesn’t like it when I bleed on my clothes—you know, when I get a bloody nose or crash on my skateboard, or cut myself. She says, ‘Soak it in cold water. Soak it in cold water.’ Like I have time to change my clothes when I’m having fun with my friends,” he complained.

  Michael grinned at his son before saying, “It must have been someone else’s blood.”

  “Huh?” Adam questioned.

  “Why would he bury his jacket if it was his own blood?” Michael asked.

  “So his mother wouldn’t make him soak it in cold water,” Adam insisted.

  Savannah smiled at the boy. “It says here that they believe the money came from a robbery that occurred in December. Oh dear, and someone’s missing and they think she might have been a witness to the robbery. They believe the jacket probably belongs to the robber and the blood could be from the witness who’s missing.” She shuddered and said more quietly, “Gads, she could be buried there too.”

  “I doubt that,” Michael said. When she looked at him, he added, “Didn’t look like enough room back in there to ditch a body.”

  “Yeah,” Adam said, “and someone would see them digging a hole that big—you know, while they’re eating lunch or dinner or something.”

  Savannah let out a sigh. “I hope John didn’t have anything to do with that. I kind of liked him, even though he’d been in prison and all. He was personable and he likes cats.”

  “Why else would he be hanging around there,” Michael asked, “if he and his friend had nothing to do with any of that?”

  “Good question,” Savannah said.

  “I come up with one once in a while,” he teased. “So, do you have the answer?”

  “No, but I swear those men knew the money was back there. They may have been surprised that Rags found it, but I don’t think they were surprised to know where it was.” She added, “I just hope John isn’t involved.”

  “If he knew the money was there, he probably is,” Michael reasoned.

  “Sure, but he might not have taken the money or hurt anyone. He probably just knows who the murdering thief is and that could put him in danger, especially now that the money has been found.”

  She took a deep breath and continued reading the article. “Rags, you’re mentioned here.”

  “He is?” Adam asked.

  “Yeah, it says, ‘The money was never found until Sunday, when a cat happened to dig it up. The cat, according to reports, was traveling through with his family and they’d stopped to let him do what cats do after a long car ride. Apparently he uncovered the missing cash while trying to bury something of his own.’”

  When Michael and Adam laughed, Savannah scolded, “You think that’s funny, do you?”

  “Yeah,” Michael said. “Don’t you?”

  “Not really. I get kind of annoyed with reporters who assume that what Rags does is by mistake—that he accidently uncovers things, solves mysteries, and paws criminals.”

  Michael briefly glanced at her and frowned. “Do you mean you think he knew that money was there and he—what, used mental telepathy to get me to stop at that particular restaurant so he could dig it up?”

  “No,” Savannah admitted, “but the press could give him more respect. No one gives cats any respect.” When Michael rolled his eyes, she continued, “Think about it, when a dog saves someone from drowning or from a fire or he helps the police nab a bad guy, the dog is a hero. When a cat does something heroic it was a fluke—a coincidence.”

  “Yeah?” Michael said.

  She faced him. “Michael, cats are heroic, they’re smart, they can figure things out.” She sat up straighter. “In fact, I read recently that a cat’s brain is more like a human brain than a dog’s is, and that cats definitely have some abilities and thought processes that dogs don’t have.”

  He patted her leg. “I know, honey; cats rule and dogs drool.”

  “Stop that!” Savannah shouted, trying not to laugh.

  Before she could continue, Adam said, “Well, I like cats, Dad. I think they’re cool and smart. Especially Rags. But not everyone pays enough attention to cats, so they don’t know that. Most of my friends have dogs, and they don’t really know much about cats.” He looked at his dad in the rearview mirror. “You like cats, don’t you, Dad?”

  “Of course he does,” Savannah said, “don’t you, Michael?”

  “Yeah, you’re right, Son; cats are cool. And you’re also right that not everyone takes the time to know what cats are all about. They’re a species all their own and they come full of surprises.” He grumbled, “I sure would like to know what Pauline’s surprise is.”

  “Dad,” Adam said from the backseat a little while later, “how come you and your brother have different names?” When he saw Michael glance at him in the rearview mirror, he said, “I mean different last names. Yours is Ivey and Uncle Keith’s is Pettit. Guys’ names don’t change when they get married like ladies’ names do.”

  Michael chuckled. “You’re right there, buddy. But names do sometimes change when you’re adopted.” When Adam didn’t respond right away, he continued, “I was raised by our parents and their name was Ivey; Uncle Keith was adopted by another family named Pettit. That’s why we have different last names.”

  “Oh,” Adam said, settling back into his seat to contemplate this new information.

  Just then Savannah’s phone chimed. She looked at the screen. “I don’t recognize this number.” Into the phone she said, “Hello?”

  “Hello, this is Detective Shively with the Monterey County Police Department. Is this Savannah Ivey?”

  “Yes.”

  “I understand that you and your cat were...”

  She interrupted. “Oh, yes, that’s right. He dug up that money. I was just reading about it in the paper. I hope John isn’t in any trouble.”

  “You’re a friend of John Droust?”

  “Um, is that the name of the man in the wheelchair?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He hesitated, then said, “He’s being held, yes.”

  “Well, I don’t think he has done anything, but he might know who did.”

  “Is that what he told you?” the detective asked.

  “In so many words,” she admitted. “That’s the impression I was left with.”

  “Say, where are you now?” he asked. “You’re traveling, right?”

  “Yes. We’re on our way down to Orange County. Why?”

  “It’s just that we’d like to talk to you further about what you saw, what you were told, what you know...that kind of thing. I plan to be in Orange County tomorrow. Can I come by at the address I have for you there?”

  “Yeah, I guess that would be okay. Call first, will you? By the way, what more do you need? It seems like a pretty cut-and-dried case, especially since you found that new evidence—you know, the jacket.”

  The detective was silent for a moment, then asked, “Are you in law enforcement? You talk like you are.”

  Savannah chuckled. “No, I’m a veterinarian.”

  “Oh. Uh, okay. Well, I’ll be in touch tomorrow. Have a good day.”

  Once she’d ended the call, Savannah leaned back in her seat and let out a sigh.

  “What’s wrong, hon?” Michael asked.

  “Huh? I don’t know, but I guess I’d better use Rochelle’s technique for protection more regularly, especially for Rags. It appears that we stumbled into a beehive or hornets’ nest when we stopped at that darned restaurant in Monterey.”

  “You mean your cat led you into it,” Michael grumbled.

  Savannah winced. She glanced back at the two cats, who were curled up together in Rags’s bed on top of the pen. “Well, maybe Pauline will be a good influence on him and he’ll change his snoopy, meddling ways.”

  Michael laughed. “That’ll be the day.”

  ****

  Late Monday afternoon the Iveys let themselves into the beach house. They’d unpacked most of their belongings and put them away by the time Michael’s brother and his family arrived. Hugs and exuberant greetings were shared all around.

  “I’m four,” Bethany told Lily, holding up four fingers. “I had a birthday!”

  “Happy birthday, Beth-Beth,” Savannah said, smoothing the child’s hair.

  “I got your present,” Bethany said. “I like paper dolls.”

  “And you like your princess costume too,” her mother, Holly, prompted.

  Bethany nodded with a big smile on her face. “I wore it to a party.”

  “Yeah,” Cassie said, “for her friend’s birthday. It was a costume party.” She laughed. “All the little girls wore princess costumes.”

  “So you were right in style, there,” Michael said, raising his hand for a high five. He then invited, “Let’s show you all to your suite. You can unpack if you want, put on your beachcombing clothes, then we’ll have cocktails on the deck.” He tickled Bethany’s tummy. “And juicies for the littles. Sound good?”

  “Sure does,” Holly said.

  “Lead the way,” Michael’s twin brother, Keith, agreed. He looked around. “This is some beach house. It belongs to friends of yours?”

  “Yes,” Savannah said. “Peter and his wife, Rochelle, are artists.”

  “Obviously not the starving kind,” Holly interjected, taking in the lovely surroundings.

  By the time the Pettit family returned to the main part of the house, Michael had rearranged the deck furniture and Savannah had set up a casual bar in the kitchen. “What would you like to drink?” she asked. “We have wine. I can make wine coolers, or there’s lemonade, which we can mix with a little rum or vodka. There’s beer and also iced tea. Oh yes, and juices for the little ones—grape, apple, peach, strawberry.”

  Before anyone could place their order, seven-year-old Cassie said, “Hey, there’s Rags.” She ran to him. “Hi, Rags.” Suddenly she stopped. “Hey, what’s that he’s sniffing under the table? Wait, I think that’s my purse. Mommy!” she shouted after picking it up and opening it. “Rags took my little purse and my money’s gone,” she wailed.

  “Rags,” Savannah scolded. “I’m sorry, Cassie, honey. Don’t worry, we’ll find your money. He must have dropped it someplace between wherever he found it and here. Now where did you leave your little purse?”

  “I think on my bed. I took it out of the suitcase to count my money again. Ten dollars and seventy-five cents,” she said. “That’s how much I had. One five dollars, five one dollars, and three quarters.”

  “Here’s a dollar,” Adam said, picking it up from the floor in the living room. He stopped and petted Pauline, who lounged on the ottoman. “Hey, Cassie and Bethany, this is our new cat. Come see our new cat. This is Pauline. Isn’t she cool?”

  “Yeah, she’s pretty,” Cassie said, petting her. She put her face down toward the cat and laughed when Pauline sniffed her. “She has long whiskers!” she exclaimed. “And they tickle.”