11 The Cats that Cooked the Books

by Karen Anne Golden

  “Well,” she hesitated, then decided that it would be in her best interest to truthfully answer the detective. “I’ve lived in New Jersey and New York state.” Rachael suspected the detective already knew most of her life story by searching public records.

  “Your most recent New Jersey address is in Atlantic City, where your boyfriend Ray Russo has the same address.”

  “Ex-fiancé,” Rachael corrected. “May I ask how that is relevant to what happened last night?”

  “Just curious why a man from New Jersey was in your building last evening. Of the many buildings, houses, apartments, mobile homes in Erie, why would a man from Atlantic City break into yours?”

  Rachael shook her head nervously. “I don’t know.”

  The detective studied Rachael’s face, then asked, “The man’s name is Mark Bruno, but friends call him Marko. Have you ever heard of him?”

  “No, why should I?” Rachael asked, a little too abruptly.

  “In your job as a casino bookkeeper, you never ran across a man by this name?”

  Rachael was surprised the detective knew of her former job, but didn’t ask how she knew. Instead, she simply answered, “No.”

  “What about Ray Russo? Is there any connection between the two men?”

  “I wouldn’t have a clue.”

  The detective fired off a torrent of questions. “Were you having an affair with Marko? Did you break it off with him? Was he angry? Did Ray find out? Is that why you moved here to get away from Marko or Ray or the both of them?”

  “How can I have an affair with someone I don’t even know? Like I told you, I don’t know who Marko is. I’ve never seen him before. Ever,” she emphasized.

  “Marko Bruno is a very dangerous man. He has a criminal record a mile-long,” the detective said, then changed tactics, “Marko searched your building. We know that because we were able to lift several more fingerprints. He was looking for something. What do you think he was searching for?”

  Worn down from the volley of questions, Rachael shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.

  Detective Martin rose, picked up her laptop, and walked to the door. “That’s all the questions I have for you now. Will you be staying at the hotel while the team processes the scene?”

  “Actually, I won’t be,” she started to explain. “I have to find another place. The hotel doesn’t allow pets.”

  “You have pets? Where? At the storefront? What kind of pets? Are they hiding somewhere? No one has mentioned finding animals. Should I alert them to be on the lookout?”

  “No, that won’t be necessary. I have a new kitten. She’s at the vet—”

  The detective interrupted, “New kitten? Wasn’t that convenient to have your cat at the vet while a man, who you claim you don’t know, broke in your place?”

  “My kitten was spayed yesterday. What are you implying?”

  “Simple question. Just doing my job. When you check out of the hotel, where are you going to be staying?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know. I won’t be able to search for a new place without my laptop. Is there any way you can retrieve it for me?”

  “I’m sorry, no. One of our computer techs is examining it—”

  “Examining it? Why?”

  “I really don’t know his job, like he probably doesn’t know mine,” the detective said evasively. “When you find out where you’re staying, call me.”

  “I will. And before you leave, how did you know I was staying here?”

  “Word travels fast in a small town. I heard it at the diner getting coffee. I’ll be in touch,” the detective said, leaving.

  Rachael rose from her chair and quickly shut the door. She then sat on the bed and covered her face with her hands. What am I going to do? The mob sent Marko to shoot me and instead those innocent police officers were shot. Will Marko come back and finish the job? Or Ray? Why didn’t I mail that damn flash drive to Ray when I had the chance in New York?

  Rachael’s inner voice said, as long as you have it, you’re safe. Give it up, then you won’t have something to bargain with. Do you want to end up dead?

  Rachael wanted to cry, but forced back the tears.

  A few minutes later, another knock sounded on the door.

  Rachael took a deep breath. “Act happy,” she said, then opened the door.

  It was Stevie.

  “Hey, good lookin’,” he said with a wink. “Ready to help this poor ole boy git some food?”

  Rachael wrinkled her nose in an affectionate manner. “You’re a sight for poor eyes. Wait. Did you just say “git”?”

  “Hell yes, sugar. That’s the language I speak. When I’m relaxed, that’s the way I talk.”

  “Okay, it’s kind of cool,” she laughed.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you ready?” he pronounced in perfect English without a trace of accent.

  “I will be in a second. Let me make sure I didn’t leave anything behind. I have to check out.”

  “Why? Did the detective call and give the all clear?”

  “She didn’t call, but she came to see me.”

  “When?”

  “Just now. Didn’t you see her on your way up?”

  “No. What did she want?”

  “She asked me more questions, which I’d already answered last night.” Rachael deliberately didn’t tell Stevie about Marko Bruno. “I can’t stay here.”

  “Why?”

  “The hotel doesn’t allow cats.”

  “But they have mousers in the back.”

  “Yeah, in the loading dock. I was told that cats are not permitted in the rooms.”

  “Well, I can solve that problem. My offer for you to stay at my place still stands.”

  “I think I’ll take you up on it. Thank you so much.”

  Stevie grabbed Rachael and kissed her on the forehead. “No problem.”

  Rachael gently broke away. “After we’ve had breakfast, can you run me by the dollar store? I need to buy some things to tide me over until I can go back home.”

  “Sure.”

  “Then we can pick up Intruder,” she said, clapping her hands.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Stevie smiled and held open the door.

  Rachael’s inner voice said, Good choice. You’ll be close to Katherine’s house. Maybe you’ll find a way to look for something in pink.

  Rachael thought, That’s my plan.

  Chapter Twenty

  In Atlantic City, seven hundred sixty miles from Erie, Ray Russo was getting into his black Dodge Charger. The mob boss wanted him to fly into Indy and steal a car from the long-term parking lot, but Ray declined. He boldly told the boss that he was going on his own terms and to butt out. The boss wasn’t happy with that and appealed to Marcel, who ended up agreeing with Ray. The boss backed down and said that Marcel would call the shots. After all, Marcel was the person essential to the financial success of their operation, which was raking in big bucks for a lot of people. However, the boss insisted that Ray arm himself. Since Ray didn’t own a handgun, the boss made sure one of his guys gave him one before he left.

  Ray reluctantly took the gun. He didn’t see a reason to carry an unlicensed gun in the first place. During the long drive to Indiana, a cop could pull him over and search his vehicle. If he lost his temper, which seemed pretty likely — he hated cops — he’d be in big trouble when the cop found an unregistered handgun. Then he’d be busted. Busted meant jail. Jail meant not getting back the flash drive so that Marcel and the mob boss would get off his back.

  He had no intention of harming Emma. He just wanted to show her who was boss. His plan was to find her, rough her up a little bit, get the ledger, and head back to Atlantic City. He felt a slight pang of remorse that he’d treated her so badly in the past, and even though it was hard for him to admit it, he missed her. He thought, Miss her, yes. Love her, no.

  Because Marko had failed to win the prize, Ray decided to go to Erie and keep a low profile. He didn’t want to attract the attention
of law enforcement, because he wasn’t completely positive that Emma hadn’t already given the flash drive to the cops. For that reason, he didn’t reserve a room in a hotel in the area, but chose a motel in the closest city. He’d use that as a base for his plan, which he called Operation Get It Back.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Stevie and Rachael picked up Intruder before the vet clinic closed for the weekend. The kitten was so thrilled to see them and was all purrs and kisses. They drove straight to the Foursquare.

  Salina stood waiting on the front porch. Her arms were crossed in a defensive manner and she had a sullen look on her face. She wasn’t happy with the new arrangement, or the list of chores she had to do to make the second-story guest room accommodate a woman and her cat, which meant fresh sheets on the bed, then multiple trips up and down the stairs to haul up litterbox, water and food bowls. “Fill the box with kitty litter and put a chocolate on her pillow,” Salina groused. “Litter in the box. Check. Chocolate. Nope, I’m not running a four-star hotel.”

  Locked up in Salina’s bedroom was a very unhappy gray cat. Wolfy Joe was used to the run of the house, but Salina thought she should confine him in her room while Rachael, Emma, or what’s her name, stayed. He howled like his wolf namesake, but finally quieted down.

  As soon as Salina learned Rachael was staying with them for up to two weeks, she texted Katherine. “Dad is bringing that woman over to stay.”

  Katz read the message and texted back, “You mean Rachael?”

  “When they show up, I think I’ll meet them at the door and call her Emma. I’m sure Dad doesn’t know that’s her real name.”

  “Not a good idea, Salina. Make the best of it, and Rachael will be gone in no time.”

  Salina texted a sad face.

  Katherine didn’t answer.

  Getting out of the truck, Rachael could read Salina’s hateful expression. So did Stevie. He wasn’t happy with his daughter.

  While Stevie grabbed two bags of clothing purchases from the back of his truck, Rachael, holding Intruder, stepped back to talk to him. “I really don’t want to interfere with how you discipline your daughter, but I think she’s served her sentence. Why don’t you let her go to the slumber party?”

  “Yeah, I think I better, if I’m ever to see my girl smile again.”

  “Okay, you go give her the good news, and I’ll wait a few minutes before I come in. I’ll take this time to call Detective Martin and tell her I’m staying with you.”

  Stevie nodded and walked up to the door, which Salina held wide open. She stuck out her lower lip, but didn’t say anything.

  “Baby Cake, is it too late for you to call your friend and say you’re coming to the party?”

  “Oh, Dad!” Salina threw her arms around him. “I love you so much.” Then she flew into the house.

  “Where are you going? Aren’t you going to greet our guest?”

  “Just a minute. I have to call Shelly to see if her Mom can take both of us.”

  Stevie walked outside. “Come in, before you melt out here.”

  Rachael smiled. She cradled Intruder like a newborn. The kitten was on her back and making kneading-dough movements with her tiny paws.

  “Would you like the grand tour?” Stevie asked.

  “Yes, I would. I love your house. I love the mission-style furniture. Did you buy it already remodeled?”

  “It was ready to move in. Margie Cokenberger’s construction crew fixed it up.”

  “She’s really good. I’ve been pleased with what she’s done to the storefront,” she said, then bit her lip. She really didn’t want to talk about that topic, so she dropped it. “Your kitchen is very modern. I like that, too.”

  “Well, that’s about it for the first floor, unless you want to see the basement. Not much down there.”

  “Nope, that’s okay,” she said with a smile. “I think I need to get Intruder to her room.” The kitten was squirming to get down.

  “Follow me. I’ll show you.”

  On the second-story landing, Stevie pointed, “On the left is my room. Across the hall, two doors down, is Salina’s room.”

  A cat howled behind Salina’s closed door.

  “Is that Wolfy Joe?” Rachael asked.

  “Yep. Do you want me to let him out and meet Intruder?”

  “I don’t think the two of them should meet right away. Intruder just had an operation and I’m sure she needs to convalesce a bit before we introduce the two of them.”

  “Okay, but I hope Wolfy Joe doesn’t howl all night.”

  “You could always let him sleep with you,” Rachael suggested.

  “That ain’t happening,” Stevie said. “Last time I tried that Wolfy jumped on my face a couple of times, then he got evicted.”

  Rachael giggled, then asked, “Where’s my room?”

  “Back here.” He led the way down a narrow hall. He pointed out the full bathroom, then opened the door to the guest room. Salina had done a good job getting it ready.

  Rachael praised, “Salina did good. I have everything I need, from bath towels to kitten things. I’ll thank her later.”

  “Here’s a charging cord for your phone.” Stevie was happy his daughter had thought of that.

  “You read my mind. I should probably charge my phone before I do anything else.”

  “Okay, make yourself at home. I’ll get the rest of your stuff.”

  Rachael walked over and hugged him. “Thank you for everything.”

  “My pleasure.”

  When Stevie left, Rachael gently placed Intruder on the carpeted floor. She used one of the towels as a cozy bed and put it in the corner. She didn’t think Intruder should be jumping up on the bed with her stitches in. The vet had said to keep her quiet for a few days.

  By the time Stevie returned with the remaining bags, Intruder was curled up asleep on her new cozy bed.

  “She’s really tired,” Rachael said.

  “She must be to pass out like that.” Stevie set the bags on the bed. “I have to leave for a few hours. I told my brother Dave I’d help him with something.”

  “Sure. I have lots to do.”

  “And what exactly does lots to do mean?”

  “Girly things. Wash my hair; there wasn’t shampoo in my room at the hotel. Put on my face. Try on my new clothes. Stuff like that.”

  “Have fun with that,” he said, starting to leave.

  “Oh, wait. Do you have Katz’s cell number?”

  “Katz?” he asked, wondering why Rachael would want to call Katz.

  Rachael explained, “I was going to see if she had an extra laptop sitting around. I need to borrow one while I wait for the cops to give mine back.”

  “You can use Salina’s computer.”

  “Oh, no. I’d much rather have my own, but thanks.”

  “Hand me your phone. I’ll put Katz’s number in your contact’s list.”

  Rachael reached in her purse and pulled her cell out.

  When Stevie finished keying in Katherine’s number, he handed the phone back to Rachael. “See ya!” he said, leaving. “Try to stay out of trouble.”

  “I’ll try,” she winked, then wondered why he knew Katherine’s phone number by heart.

  She called Katherine right away.

  Katherine didn’t recognize the number, but answered any way.

  “Hi, Katz, this is Rachael Thomas. We met the other day. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. I’m so sorry about what happened at your storefront last night.”

  “I learned this morning that the chief and the other officer are going to be okay.”

  “Yes, we are very much relieved. What can I help you with?”

  “I need to ask a favor. Seems I need a laptop. Mine is back at the storefront.” Rachael left out the details about the police holding it. “I was wondering if you had a spare laptop lying around that I could borrow. Stevie mentioned you taught computer classes. I thought you’d have an extra one.”

  “
Yes, I do. Should I bring it next door?”

  “How’d you know I was next door?”

  Katherine laughed. “Because Salina told me you were coming.”

  “Oh, she did?” Rachael asked. “Was that before or after Stevie said she could go to the party?”

  “She texted me twice.”

  “I can come over and get it.”

  “Give me a few hours. Hey, I could give it to you tonight. If Stevie and you don’t have plans for dinner, you could come over and have pizza with Jake and me.”

  “That would be great. I’ll have to clear it with Stevie. He’s not at home right now.”

  “How about you come over at seven?”

  “Yes, that sounds amazing. I’m sure Stevie will say yes. I’ll text, if he doesn’t. Oh, and thanks, Katz. Tell the kitties I’m coming over.”

  “I will.”

  Rachael ended the call and whispered, “Yay! Perfect! Perfect! Now, I need to figure out how I’m going to search that chair without getting caught.”

  Good luck with that, her inner voice said.

  * * *

  Stevie drove into the near-empty parking lot of the Dew Drop Inn, owned by his brother, Dave Sanders, who had inherited the tavern from their late father, Sam. At this time of day, there were few patrons. Stevie spotted his brother’s new Highlander and parked next to it. Walking inside the bar, his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior.

  Eddie the bartender was hand-toweling beer mugs. “Lookin’ for your brother?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  “He’s in there,” Eddie said, nodding his head in the direction of the room that was a combination store room and office. “Can I git you anything?” he asked.

  “Nope, but thanks.”

  The door was open, so Stevie walked in. He smiled at his brother, who was sitting with his feet up on the desk, and simultaneously sorting through what looked to be bills.

  “Hey,” Stevie said.

  “Come in,” Dave said. “Sit yourself down. Want a beer?”

  “I’m good. Sorry I haven’t been in for a while. I’ve been really busy with my business.”

  “Ah, yeah, your business,” Dave said, winking. “I’ve heard she’s quite the looker.”

  Stevie flashed a smile. “Pretty and smart. Her name is Rachael. She owns the storefront next to the hotel.”