Catnapped (A Klepto Cat Mystery) Read Free Page B

Nancy Drew and Hardy Boy mystery books. She was practically addicted to suspense and anything mysterious. And she had a rather morbid curiosity about the details of her great-uncle’s demise. She took every opportunity that week to listen when the adults spoke about the details of the deadly fire that had occurred a month or so earlier. One detail she wishes to this day she hadn’t heard was the speculation and possibility that someone had set the fire on purpose and killed the old man.
    That was her first lesson in the dangers of eavesdropping. Yes, she remembered the quilt. I could probably describe every inch of it if I had to in a court of law, after lying awake staring at it every night that week afraid that the murderer would come back and burn me alive inside this big, old wood-frame house , she thought. I wonder what ever happened to the clue we found the day we were digging around out there in the fire area. We should have told someone about it, but we didn’t want to get into trouble for going near the burned-down barn. It was off-limits to us kids, and way too tempting for a junior sleuth like me to ignore.
    As Savannah pulled a soft blue tee shirt and a pair of her comfiest jeans out of the suitcase, she remembered something else. Her two boy cousins, Jake and Jimmy, hid the clue the day they all left for home. Oh my gosh, I remember where they hid it. Could it still be there?
    Her thoughts were interrupted by her aunt’s voice over the room-to-room intercom. “Savannah, your coffee’s getting cold and Layla is hungry.”
    “I’ll be right down,” Savannah called into the speaker. I should unpack and hang up my clothes, she considered. And then, Later, she decided. I want to hear more about Max’s cats. She stopped, a thoughtful look crossing her face. And what did Auntie mean about getting to the bottom of it? The bottom of what? It’s obviously something about cats…and human nature. Max and Aunt Marg seem so concerned. What could be going on?
    She rushed into the bathroom to wash up and brush her teeth, then took the knot out of her hair and ran a brush through it while Rags lapped at the stream of water coming from the spigot. She secured her hair in a ponytail and hurriedly donned the clothes she’d set out. With the cat leading the way, Savannah jogged down the staircase. Her first stop was at her aunt’s temporary bedroom. She turned over shoes, poked around in the bathroom again and lifted the dust ruffle to look under the bed. She peered into the various little dishes and other containers on the two dressers and checked the drawer and shelves on the nightstand.
    Oh wait, Auntie Marg saw Rags climbing out of her lingerie drawer. What was he doing in there—depositing something? She pulled the drawer open and felt carefully through the silky unmentionables— bingo! She worked her fingers through some folded fabric and pulled out a pair of glasses. Boy, will Auntie Marg be pleased. I saw her relying on these a lot last night as we looked through some old photo albums. Savannah smiled. That was a nice walk down memory lane—seeing pictures of the family when I lived here many years ago. That was before Margaret married Tom Forster.
    Margaret was the only Brannon left in their hometown. She’d followed her second husband back there after meeting him at a class reunion. He was a member of an earlier graduating class and had come to the reunion with his younger cousin. He and Margaret hit it off right away. She’d been single for five years, when they married. After his parents died, they moved into the old Forster place to take care of his grandfather, Jed Forster. Fourteen years later, Margaret became a widow, and, when there was no opposition from other family members, she inherited the property.
    I can see why no one else in the Forster family wanted this old place. It’s charming and all, but there’s so much upkeep. Auntie always did like a challenge. Savannah sighed as she looked