The Investigators, Inc. The Stray Cat Mystery. Chapter 1. Cat and Murder.

We have had a nice break for a few days but now everyone is wanting another case to come along, including me. I get to go on the next case, so I’m excited. It’s our new way of doing things, I stay home for 3 cases, then I go on one. It’s early morning but Jennifer and I are already up and were just about to head downstairs for breakfast when Jennifer heard one of the cats yowl like it was being hurt, right out front. None of the cats should be out alone so I hit the silent Code Red button. It still makes a beeping sound, just loud enough to awaken everyone.

“Dawn, check out front immediately please,” I said, “there could be trouble out there.” The Code Red also shows up on the watches of our outside guards. Two of them should be out front at all times. Also, who let one of our cats outside by itself? Jennifer and I were downstairs very quickly, but Kristina and Sky had already gone out to check on things. “It’s a cat,” said Dawn as we arrived at the door. Sky came in carrying the poor little cat which looked half dead. “Take him quickly to Bridgette,” I told Sky and she immediately disappeared.

Jennifer and I followed, running down the hall to the clinic. “He hasn’t eaten for a long time,” said Bridgette, “and by the looks of his feet he has been walking for a long time too. But he’ll be okay.” Meowe. =”Must help my human, bad men take her, shoot her parents. I try to find, but not able to walk fast enough.” He then told us a bit more before he fell asleep. Jennifer called Jewel and Ginger to come and stay with Cat and keep him warm and purr for him too. They were more than happy to help out with this.

“Cristy, look up 954 Rue Fontaine, please,” I said, “also Harold and Victoria Fanshaw. Trixie, look up a Mr. Weems, likely involved in sex trafficking. Misty, head into the village and find out if anyone noticed an Audi, possibly the Q8, in a brown color or perhaps a dark red, sometime within the last couple of weeks.” Misty and her Sneakers were on their way to the village within minutes. Someone must have seen that car go through the village, it is not one we see around this area. It was quite amazing how much Cat could tell us considering his physical condition, I sure hope he pulls through okay, Bridgette seemed to think he would. However, the look on her face told me she wasn’t as sure as the words she spoke.

Aari called and asked what was going on so I filled him in. “Be careful Steve,” he said, “there are a lot of people that know we like cats. This could be a trap to catch you.” “Yes, I thought about that too,” I told him, “but this cat seemed genuine and he can talk to us, finding such a cat is not easy, then training him too, that would take considerable time and effort. Plus, none of our enemies know that our cats can talk to us the way they do. However, we will be careful until we can verify some things that Cat told us. I wish he had told us his name too, but I guess the other information was more important to him.”

“But why would he try to enlist your help without knowing who you are?” asked Aari. “Yes, that is one part that puzzles me,” I said, “but I will get our cats to check him out when he wakes up again.” I then called Cristy and asked how she was doing with the Fanshaw’s house and family. “No such people exist from that address Steve,” she said, “or any other address for that matter. The people who own and live at that address have the name of Featherstonehaugh.” Catalina came in at that moment and asked what she was trying to say, so Cristy repeated herself.

Catalina just looked at her and shook her head. Then she asked to see the name and Cristy showed her. “Oh, you mean Fanshaw,” said Catalina smiling, “that’s an old Scottish name.” Cristy looked at the name again. “How do you get Fanshaw from all those letters that have nothing whatever to do with the name Fanshaw?” asked Cristy frowning. “You seem to forget that I’m Scottish,” said Catalina. “Would Weems be Scottish too,” I asked her. “Yep, that’s another old Scottish name,” she said, “and you are probably spelling that one wrong too.”

“So, how would you spell it?” asked Cristy. “I..T,” said Catalina and then she started laughing uncontrollably, falling onto one of the chairs. “Good thing I’m a ghost,” said Kitty, “or that might have hurt!” Kitty had been sitting on the very chair Catalina fell onto. That got Catalina laughing even more and that got everyone in the library laughing. Everyone, that is, except for our computer girls. For some reason they didn’t see the humor in Catalina’s answer. Finally she managed to settle down and tell Cristy that Weems is spelled Wemyss. “Scottishers don’t know how to spell,” said Wisty.

However, this now gave us the information we needed. The Featherstonehaugh’s owned that house and lived there for the past 25 years. So, Jennifer and I went to visit these people and see if Cat was telling us the truth. Kitty, Sky and the Bad Girls came along too. Once at the house it seemed quite obvious that someone was living there, but Jennifer, Amerie and I went up to the house anyway. Sky came along too, pretending to be my wife, while Jennifer came along invisibly so she could enter the house and look around quickly while we talked with the Featherstonehaoughs.

After knocking a woman answered the door and I introduced us and asked if we could come in and talk with her and her husband, and her daughter if she was home too. “We have no daughter,” she said, “and I don’t know you, so you can’t come in!” She tried to close the door, but Sky put her hand against it so she couldn’t. “Who’s there?” asked a rather rough sounding voice. “Some people that have the wrong address,” she called back to him. He then came to the door.

“Are you Harold Featherstonehaugh?” I asked. “No, I am not!” he said, “Now stop bothering us!” He then tried to close the door but couldn’t and I motioned to Sky to touch the door handle. She smiled and did so. “AAAA!!” yelled the man, “How did I get a shock from that?” That’s when we started to come in, but he grabbed me and pushed me against the door frame. Sky touched me then touched the man, sending him flying back against the wall groaning.

“Thank you for inviting us in,” I said, “now, we are going to talk. We are private investigators and we are looking for the owners of this house, and that is not you. The Featherstonehaughs own the house and have lived here for the past 25 years.” “Liar!” yelled the woman, “We bought this house 5 years ago and have lived here since that time! Now, get out or I will call the police!” “Go ahead and call the police,” I said, “we will gladly wait for them to arrive.”

Just then Jennifer came into the room, still invisible. “There is a grave in the basement Steve,” she said, “Storm and Boots confirmed it…”

To Be Continued. ©2026 Steve McLeod.