Chapter Five

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"That's a picture of Pasha?" asked Red, peering at Myrtle's poster. "Can't say I'd have recognized her, Mama."

"That's exactly why I need you to help me pull some pictures off my camera," said Myrtle, reaching in her bag for her digital camera. "I swear, I don't know what good these things are if you can't figure out how to get the pictures off."

Red said, "It's just a matter of plugging it into the computer, opening the folder, and copying the pictures over to your computer. No big deal."

"Yes, well, I tried to do just that and I couldn't find the pictures. The camera seemed to have a bazillion folders on it." Myrtle tightly gripped the handle of her cane. She needed to be pleasant while asking a favor, but if Red were going to be condescending, it would be tough.

Red pulled the cable out of the zipper bag she'd put the camera and its assorted cords in. He started walking her through the process on his laptop. "First you plug this end into the camera and this end into the computer."

Myrtle gave him a forced smile when he glanced over at her.

"Then you wait for the computer to recognize the device." He paused. "Hmm. Maybe that port doesn't work for some reason." Red disconnected the cable from the laptop and plugged it back in at a different spot.

"Then, when the computer recognizes it, you click on the device on the laptop." He pointed to the icon, and then frowned. He leaned forward and studied the screen intently.

Myrtle felt smug. There were a dozen folders that popped up. How on earth would you know which one was the right one?

"Let's see," Red murmured. "It should be this one, I think."

It apparently wasn't.

Red said something rude to the laptop and the camera. "Maybe this is the right folder."

No, it wasn't.

Red's face was getting flushed now and he was randomly clicking on folders when his cell phone rang. With relief, he answered it. "This is Chief Clover. Excuse me?" he frowned, trying to listen harder. Then he rolled his eyes. "Yes. Thanks, Miss Brown. I'll let her know."

Myrtle sat up straight on the sofa. "Is it Pasha?"

"Sure seems to be. Claudia Brown is reporting a Pasha sighting." Red grabbed his keys and squinted at the poster. "You didn't put my number on the poster, did you? Hope I won't be getting a barrage of phone calls at the station about your lost cat."

"I can't help it if your citizens feel it's a police issue," said Myrtle. "Let's go!"

Elaine poked her head into the living room from the kitchen. "Was that call good news? Did you still need help with the camera?" she asked, looking down at the camera, laptop and cord.

"Maybe, just in case," said Myrtle. "But this sounds like a real lead."

It wasn't a real lead. "How on earth could Claudia think that cat looks anything like Pasha?" asked Myrtle impatiently. "It's just a common housecat. And it's fat as a butterball. Pasha is extraordinary."

Red gazed at the plump cat napping in a sunbeam across from Claudia's driveway. "Well, it is sort of hard to tell from your poster, Mama. Pasha looks more like a smudge."

"A blur," corrected Myrtle, coldly. "She was simply poetry in motion while I was trying to snap a picture." Myrtle sighed. "I guess Claudia was trying to help."

"I'll let her know that it was just a neighbor's cat and not Pasha. And Elaine will get a clearer photo off the camera. Since I'm busy with the case and everything," he added hurriedly, as if not wanting to admit that Elaine was better with computers than he was.

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