FURever Bound Read online

  FURever Bound

  A Klepto Cat Mystery

  Book 31

  by Patricia Fry

  FURever Bound

  A Klepto Cat Mystery

  Book 31

  Author: Patricia Fry

  ISBN: 978-0-9994724-8-4

  All rights reserved

  © 2018 Matilija Press

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 1

  It was late on a Saturday afternoon in May when Savannah entered her spacious farm kitchen and called out, “Hello! Anyone here?”

  “Hi, hon,” Michael greeted from the doorway. He walked toward her with eleven-month-old Teddy on his shoulders.

  At the same time Lily ran into the room. “Did you ride Peaches home, Mommy? Is Peaches here?” she asked, stepping up onto her stool so she could see out the window. However, someone had beaten her to that spot. “Move, Rags!” the three-year-old demanded impatiently. “I can’t see Peaches.” Savannah and Michael laughed when Rags continued to turn in place on his window perch, and the child complained more loudly, “Rags, I can’t see!” When Savannah lifted the lanky cat into her arms, Lily shouted, “I see Peaches!” She asked again, “Mommy, did you ride Peaches home?”

  Savannah smoothed the child’s hair. “No, punkin. She rode home in Bonnie’s horse trailer. She looked at Michael. “Didn’t you guys hear us unloading her? She was noisy.”

  “Noisy?” he asked.

  “Yeah. She stumbled when she was backing out and made quite a racket trying to get her legs under her.”

  Michael joined Lily at the window. “Is she okay?”

  “Just fine,” Savannah said, lowering Rags to the floor.

  “Did you and Bonnie have a good ride?” he asked.

  She removed her Western hat and swooned. “It was wonderful being in the saddle again; it’s been much too long. But now that I have Peaches home, maybe she’ll get more attention.” She faced her husband. “Michael, I wish you’d get a horse so we can ride together.” Before he could respond, she announced, “Hey, Bonnie offered to let us board Gypsy here and ride her—you know, like she’s our own.”

  He tilted his head. “Gypsy?”

  “She’s that big bay in the stall next to where Peaches stays at the Teagues’ Stables. We could put up a portable corral or even use the workout corral for one of the horses, until you get time to build another one.” Giddily, she added, “Bonnie will throw in a saddle and bridle for us to use.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” he asked.

  “Nothing. She’s gentle and sweet. It’s just that Bonnie wants to phase out her beginners’ riding academy and work more with advanced riders and their show horses. Gypsy’s one of her best horses for the novice, and Bonnie’s concerned that the mare won’t get enough attention if she keeps her there.” She brightened. “Michael, I love the idea. Then I can ride anytime I want with you, or maybe my sister, or any of my friends. I won’t have to always rely on Bonnie to trailer Peaches somewhere in order to have someone to ride with.”

  Michael smirked playfully. “Really? With two small children you think we could manage a horseback ride anytime we want to go?”

  “Well, it would certainly be more likely if we had another horse here. And Gypsy’s gentle enough that I can even put Iris or Adam on her. Savannah turned toward Michael. “Hey, Rochelle said she’d like to go riding sometime.”

  “Rochelle rides?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yes. She told me she went to a boarding school where most of the students had horses, and she rode a lot back then.”

  Michael thought for a moment. “Honey, if you want us to have another horse, let’s start shopping for one. Or, as you said, go ahead and board Bonnie’s horse. It’s okay with me.” He looked at her. “Another solution might be for us to buy a horse trailer, then you can ride where you want without having to rely on someone to trailer your mare.” He nodded in Rags’s direction and began to laugh. “Looks like your cat’s happy to see his horse friend back.”

  Savannah finished taking off her boots and approached Rags, who had returned to his window perch. She cooed, “Yes, Peaches is back, isn’t she, pretty boy? Would you like to go out and see her before I get cleaned up?” She removed the cat’s harness from a hook and fastened it around him, then replaced the long leash with a shorter one. She sat down and glanced at Michael. “Why don’t you guys come out with us?”

  “Me?” Lily said excitedly. When the child saw Savannah pulling her boots on, she turned and ran into the living room, calling out, “Wait for me. I get my boots.” She stopped and instructed, “Stay there, Mommy. I get my boots.” She started to go down the hall to her bedroom and stopped again. She pointed. “Stay, Mommy, okay?”

  Michael and Savannah chuckled, and she called out, “Okay, honey. Bring your boots here, and I’ll help you put them on.”

  Once the family had adequately welcomed Peaches back home with affectionate pats and fresh carrots, Savannah suggested, “Let’s sit here and watch Rags and Peaches play, shall we?”

  Michael looked at Teddy, who sat in the utility wagon surrounded by stuffed animals, then he perched on the tack room porch and pulled the wagon closer. Savannah lifted Lily up onto the porch and sat down next to her. Everyone laughed when they saw Rags tiptoe precariously along the rim of the watering trough and make his way to the top railing of the corral. Peaches nickered softly and lumbered toward the cat. When the mare was close enough, Rags batted at a piece of straw dangling from her forelock. At the same time, Peaches tossed her head and nearly knocked Rags off the fence.

  Savannah flinched when the cat took a leap of faith, landed on Peaches’s back, and began kneading her mane. “Oooh, I hope he doesn’t use his claws, or he might end up in that water trough.”

  Michael laughed. “That would be one of those overnight sensations on the Internet. Got your phone camera ready?”

  She patted her jeans pocket. “No. I left it in the house. You have yours, don’t you?”

  “What, Mommy?” Lily asked. “What’s funny? What’s Rags doing to Peaches?”

  “He’s kneading her,” she explained. When Lily looked confused, Savannah gestured with her hands. “You know, making biscuits.”

  “I think he’s playing the piano,” Michael teased.

  Lily frowned. “Peaches is no piano, Daddy.”

  “Then maybe he’s mashing potatoes,” he joked.

  “No, he’s not.” Lily looked at Savannah again. “What’s he doing, Mommy?”

  “It’s called kneading, honey. He’s giving her a massage—you know, rubbing her back.”

  “Acupuncture,” Michael quipped.

  Savannah winced. “Let’s hope not.” She addressed Michael. “So you’re okay with me bringing Gypsy here?”

  He shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

  “And will you go riding with me?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Well, I can’t make any promises, but it’ll be nice having a horse for any of your girlfriends who want to ride with you.” His face lit up. “And for Adam. Did you say she’s gentle enough for Adam? Do you think you can have her here for his next visit? He’ll be here next month, you know, and it looks like Keith, Holly, and the girls are planning to visit then too.”

  “Which reminds, me,” Savannah said, “I want to confirm with Peter about using his beach house for a week or so while they’re all here.” She added, “To answer your question, yes, we’ll definitely have her by then. And Adam can ride Peaches or Gypsy; he should be able to
handle either one of them.”

  “So they’re both equally safe?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I think so.”

  “Good, because I don’t want either one of you getting hurt.” Suddenly he lurched forward and leaped toward the corral in an effort to break Rags’s drop from Peaches’s back.

  Savannah gasped. “Did he jump?”

  “I don’t know,” Michael said, moving to where he had a better view. He promptly determined that Rags wasn’t hurt, but the cat was certainly suffering a dilemma. Peaches had stepped on Rags’s leash and the cat was pinned just a few feet from one of the mare’s hooves. Thinking quickly, Michael edged between the two animals. He nudged Peaches forward enough that she had to lift her hoof, and Rags ran to the other side of the corral.

  Savannah watched Rags with interest as he sat down and began licking himself. “Is he…?” she started.

  Michael assured her, “He’s fine.”

  “Well, I know she would never step on him intentionally, but there are accidents. I just wondered…”

  “Naw. I’m sure he stayed out from under her hooves.” He frowned. “Probably better remove the leash from now on when he visits her. It appears that could cause him a problem.” He walked to where Rags sat, unsnapped the leash from his harness, and held it delicately between two fingers, saying, “Thanks a lot, Rags.”

  “What did he do?” Savannah asked.

  He dragged this through a fresh pile of manure.” Michael watched as Rags leaped onto the feed bin, then to the top rail of the fence in order to get closer to his horse friend.

  When Lily saw Rags butting up against the mare, she began to laugh. “Rags is hugging Peaches. See, Mommy, he hugs with his face.”

  Savannah smiled down at her daughter. “So that’s what you’d call a kitty-cat-hug, huh?”

  Lily nodded enthusiastically, then stood and began rubbing her face against Savannah’s.

  “I hugging you, Mommy. I giving you kitty-hugs. See Mommy, kitties have no hands; they hug like this.” She giggled, saying, “And doggies lick like this.”

  “Never mind,” Savannah said, holding the child at bay and laughing.

  “So there you are!” Gladys called, walking swiftly toward the family. She handed Savannah her cell phone. “Iris wants to talk to you.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Into the phone, she said, “Hi, girlfriend. What’s up?”

  “Not much. I’m just having coffee with Ernie.”

  “Ernie?” Savannah asked.

  “Yeah. You know, my resident spirit.”

  “You’ve named him? How do you know it’s a guy?” Savannah chuckled. “How do you even know there is a spirit?”

  “Hey, if Rochelle felt it without my even mentioning it to her, isn’t that proof enough? After all, she’s a spirit medium, or psychic, or whatever she calls herself.”

  Savannah interrupted. “I don’t know that she calls herself anything. She doesn’t even promote herself in that way.”

  “Whatever,” Iris replied flippantly. “Anyway, there’s definitely something here, and it makes sense that it’s that construction worker who went missing back when they were building these houses. I’ve named him Ernie. Sounds like a construction-worker kind of name, don’t you think so?”

  “I guess.”

  “You sound skeptical,” Iris complained.

  “You know me,” Savannah said. “If I can’t see it, feel it, or taste it...”

  “Oh, you just don’t have the gift like Rochelle and I do,” Iris bragged.

  “Is that what you call it?” Savannah asked. “I don’t think I’d want to be burdened with that gift.”

  “Well, you’re sure missing out,” Iris insisted.

  “On what?” Savannah pushed.

  “Well…”

  When Iris hesitated, Savannah jumped in. “Chilling encounters when I least expect them, strange noises in the night, believing that something maybe deranged and dangerous is lurking in my home? No thanks.”

  Iris laughed. “Hon, there are probably hundreds of spirit beings lurking, as you say, in your turn-of-the-century home. I mean, that place has a history.” She added more quietly, “Have you forgotten that someone was murdered there—well, more than one someone.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “Actually, I was thinking about old Jed Forster—your aunt’s first husband’s uncle. He was murdered. Someone burned the barn down around him, right?” Iris laughed eerily. “But yeah, then there are those other more recent…um…unfortunate mishaps on your property. Oh, hon, you could have a whole houseful of ghostly characters.”

  Savannah was quick to say, “Well, if that’s so, I’m glad I’m not aware of them. Our household is chaotic enough as it is.”

  Iris knew that Savannah was uncomfortable with the subject, but she wasn’t finished pursuing it. “Hey,” she said, “cats can tune into the supernatural can’t they? You know, the spirit world? Do you ever see any of your cats staring off into space, watching something you can’t see, acting mesmerized or maybe startled for no apparent reason?”

  “Well, yeah. That’s what cats do—stare, react, chase imaginary things…”

  “Aha!” Iris shouted. “Your place is haunted! I knew it.”

  “It is not,” Savannah insisted. “Hey, you’ve been to our house a gazillion times and you’ve never mentioned noticing any spirits here.”

  Iris paused, then said rather unconvincingly, “I didn’t want to alarm you.”

  “Oh stop,” Savannah demanded. “You’ve never felt spirits around here.” She asked more cautiously, “Have you?”

  Iris admitted, “Well, not really. But you have to agree there probably are some. Your cats know it. And next time I come to your place I’m going to pay closer attention.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Savannah grumbled. She said in a more lively tone, “Hey, Iris, we’re just going in to have supper. Is there something you wanted to talk to me about? If not, can we chat later?”

  “Yes,” Iris asserted, “I do have a reason for calling. I want you to go with me to the library to research Ernie or whatever his name is. I want to find out who he was and maybe solve his murder.”

  “His murder?” Savannah asked, alarmed. “You think he was murdered? You’re talking about the guy who went missing during the construction of your house, right?”

  “Yes. If it actually is his spirit, he may be trying to communicate with me. He probably wants me to find his killer.”

  Savannah rolled her eyes for Michael’s benefit and grinned when she saw him put Rags into the wagon with Teddy. “His killer, huh?” she repeated, following her family toward the house.

  “Well, yeah,” Iris said. “Why else would he so blatantly try to engage me if he wasn’t eager to get someone to help him—you know, get justice, so he can rest?” When Savannah didn’t respond, she said, “Oh, come on; say you’ll go with me to the library. You’re a good researcher. I get kind of sidetracked and scattered when I do research.”

  Savannah chuckled. “Okay, but on one condition.”

  “What’s that?” Iris asked.

  “I’ll go with you to the library if you’ll go riding with me.”

  “Riding?” Iris repeated. “On a horse? Sure, I love going riding with you. When?”

  “When do you want to do the research?” Savannah asked.

  “ASAP, of course. Tomorrow would be good.”

  “Is the library open on Sunday?”

  “Yes,” Iris said, “from noon to five.”

  “Okay,” Savannah agreed, “let me talk to Michael and Mom and I’ll get back to you.”

  “Great. Now, when do you want to go riding? Would we meet at Bonnie’s?” Iris asked.

  “No,” Savannah said with renewed energy. “I’m bringing home a friend for Peaches—another horse.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes. Iris, did you ever meet Gypsy? She’s that pretty bay in the pen next to where Peaches stays out at the stables. I’m going to boa
rd her here and maybe buy her.” Savannah glanced at Michael, who lifted Rags from the wagon, and at Gladys, who carried Teddy into the house, then said more quietly, “You know we follow the buddy system around here; no one can ride alone. With two horses, I can probably always find a riding buddy, and we can ride from here. Peaches won’t have to be hauled anywhere.” She took Lily’s hand and helped her up the porch steps. “Hey, I’ve been thinking, and I believe we can ride from our house to yours—you know, your new house. I’ve thought about walking over to your place from here. We could ride it first and see if we can get through and also find out how long it takes us. Want to?”

  “There’s a trail between our two houses? That’s wild. Where is it?” Iris asked.

  “Well, I think it runs east along the canal, around the Persimmon tract, probably skirting the old dump. Then I think it drops down into your tract, right behind your house.”

  “Really? How far is it—how long would it take?”

  “I’m not sure. I’m guessing under an hour by horseback.”

  “Well, yeah, I’d like to see how that works. We could have lunch at the joint just off the highway. Sounds like the trail or right-of-way or whatever goes alongside it, right?”

  “I think so. Okay, that’ll be our route, then.”

  “When?”

  “Oh, ASAP, I guess,” Savannah said, realizing she was mimicking Iris. She added, “After Bonnie delivers Gypsy. She’ll probably have time in the next few days.”

  Iris contemplated the name. “Gypsy. Wow, is that ever appropriate.”

  “How’s that?” Savannah asked.

  “Well, I’m sort of a gypsy with my gift and all, don’t you think so?”

  Savannah laughed. “Oh, Iris, let’s not get carried away. We don’t know that you have a gift. It could be your overactive imagination.”

  “You just wait, Miss Savannah,” Iris huffed. “You’ll see. Anyway, how do you explain Rochelle and me both sensing him?”

  Savannah let out a sigh. “I don’t have a clue.” She followed Michael and Lily toward the door, saying into the phone, “Hey, I’ll call you later and let you know about tomorrow. Gotta go.”