The Cats that Played the Market (The Cats that . . . Cozy Mystery Book 4)

by Karen Anne Golden

  The Cats That Played the Market

  Karen Anne Golden

  Copyright

  This book or eBook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, persons or cats, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Edited by Vicki Braun.

  Cover design by Christy Carlyle of Gilded Heart Design.

  Copyright © 2014 Karen Anne Golden

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1503033276

  ISBN-10: 1503033279

  Dedication

  To

  Jeff

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks to Vicki Braun, my editor, who meticulously edited this book. Vicki also edited the first three books of The Cats That . . . Cozy Mystery series. Also, special thanks to Christy Carlyle, my book cover designer.

  Thank you to my niece, Melissa McGee. Melissa and I brainstormed about plot points, sitting across from each other at my marble-top table in my Victorian living room. Melissa has an incredible eye for catching my habit of omitting words.

  I want to express my appreciation to Pauline Nicolaï and Ramona Kekstadt for reading my book and offering suggestions on how to make it a better story.

  Thank you, dear readers! Many of you have sent me encouraging emails and have written thoughtful reviews.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Prologue

  Late December

  Katherine ran to her car, opened the door, and jumped in. Nervously fumbling with the clasp on her crossover bag, she extracted her cell and called Jake. “I’ve got an emergency,” she said breathlessly. “Chief London wants me out of town.”

  “Why?” Jake asked in disbelief.

  Katherine turned the ignition, floored the accelerator, and peeled out on Main Street. “I’m heading to the pink mansion now. I don’t have time to explain.”

  “Katz, I’m not far. I’ll meet you there and help corral the cats. We’ll decide later where to go.”

  “Colleen’s with Daryl, but her mum’s home. Park in back and use your key to the basement. I’ll see you in a few.”

  Driving in front of the house, she was shocked to see a red pickup blocking her parking spot. Surely that’s not the stolen vehicle, she thought.

  Quickly getting out of the car, she rushed up the steps to the front porch landing. She was startled when Colleen’s mum opened the door.

  “Hello, Katz. I was just headin’ to the kitchen to make a bit of tea,” she slurred.

  Katherine took one whiff of Mum’s breath and knew she’d been drinking. “Is everything okay?” she asked worriedly.

  “Why do you ask, dear? You look like you’ve been touched by a banshee!”

  “Whose truck is that?”

  “I’ve been talkin’ a bit of treason with your friend from the library. They’re waitin’ for you in the living room. I’ll fix some tea.”

  Katherine took Mum by the arm. “Come with me,” she insisted. She directed her to the stairwell.

  Mum resisted. “Whatever ‘tis the matter?”

  Katherine said firmly, “Shhh! Lower your voice. Go to your room and lock the door. I only have one friend from the library, and Michelle doesn’t drive a red pickup with out of state plates.”

  “Oh, it’s somebody else. I didn’t catch their name. What’s goin’ on?”

  “I beg of you. Just do as I ask,” Katherine implored. “When you get to your room, call Colleen and tell her to not come back to the house until she hears from me.”

  “In the name of all the saints,” Mum said, as she staggered upstairs.

  Katherine sprinted past Mum to her back hallway bedroom. She was alarmed to see the door standing wide-open. She had specifically shut the door so the cats wouldn’t bother Colleen’s mum while she was away.

  “Dammit,” she said, surveying the room. The cats were not there. She pulled the Glock out of the gun safe and joined Mum outside her door.

  “You’re not goin’ to use that thing, are you?” Mum said frantically. “Why don’t we call the police?”

  “I’m going to call the police! Please relax,” Katherine reassured and then, with rising alarm in her voice, “Where are the cats?”

  “The last time I saw them, they were toastin’ their buns on the kitchen register.”

  “Hurry! Get in your room.”

  Mum finally went in and locked the door.

  Katherine yanked her cell out of her bag and called Chief London. “I think the stolen vehicle is parked in front of my house,” she said anxiously. “It’s a red pickup.”

  “Katz, stay in your vehicle. Do NOT go inside,” the chief ordered. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “That’s a problem because I’m already inside.” She disconnected the call and tapped Jake’s number. It rang and rang, then went into voice mail. “Don’t come. Chief’s on his way.” She put the cell in her back pocket.

  Gripping the Glock with both hands, she cautiously walked downstairs. Suspecting the person in the living room was armed, Katherine swiftly searched downstairs, leaving the living room for last. She had to get to the cats in the kitchen, and shut that door so they wouldn’t run into the living room. Entering the kitchen, she was shocked to find the cats weren’t on the register or on the window valance. Oh, my God. They’re in the living room with a murderer.

  Chapter One

  Early December

  Winter came early to Erie, Indiana. The Hoosier’s Almanac had predicted mild temperatures with little precipitation. So far, however, several major storms had rolled through, dumping record snowfall. An unprecedented blizzard, unusual for this time of year, was causing havoc in the heartland. It could easily bury Erie under a foot or more of fresh powder.

  Snow removal was nearly impossible because hurricane-strength winds promptly recovered surfaces. The governor declared a snow emergency for west central Indiana. People were told to stay at home. In many counties, roads were closed to the public, and were used by police, medical, and emergency vehicles only.

  In Erie, there were already ten inches on the ground. The sidewalks, parking lots, streets and highways had become skating rinks.

  Jake found that out the hard way. An hour before the snow emergency was declared, he left the university, where he taught, to drive home. A few miles from Erie, his blue Jeep Wrangler hit a patch of black ice and slid off the road. The Jeep bottomed out in a snow drift and broke a shock mount.

  Jake called his girlfriend, Katherine — heir to the Colfax fortune — and asked if he could stay at the pink mansion for a few days. She gladly said yes, so he had a tow truck haul his Jeep to the Erie garage to be serviced.

  Jake stayed overnight and slept in the guest room, down from Katherine’s bedroom. He didn’t sleep alone. His two feline bed buddies — Lilac and Abby — snuggled against him all night. Katherine and her three seal-point Siamese — Iris, Abra and Scout — slept together.

  Jake got up early and quietly headed downstairs to the kitchen to fix Katherine breakfast. She was still asleep, so he loaded up a tray and carried it upstairs.

  Abby and Lilac darted in and out of his legs as he climbed the steps. “Hey, y
ou guys,” he whispered. “Don’t trip the man who has your breakfast.” “Me-yowl!” Lilac protested loudly. “Quiet,” he said. “Chirp,” Abby cried softly. With his free hand, Jake knocked gently on Katherine’s door.

  Katherine was nestled under the feather comforter with Scout and Abra spooned against her. On the other side was Iris — a Siamese from a swanky pet store in Manhattan. Just one month earlier, Iris had been catnapped, but now was safe at home with her forever family. When the cats heard the tap on the door, they shot out from under the covers and launched off the bed. They knew Jake was standing outside, and from the smell that wafted underneath the door, he was bringing them food, as well.

  “Wake up, sleepy heads,” Jake called through the door.

  “Me-yowl” and “chirp” was greeted by “waugh,” “raw,” and “yowl” from the other side.

  Katherine sat up and said drowsily, “Come in, but be advised I look a fright in the morning.”

  Jake slowly opened the door. Lilac and Abby flew into the room, joining the other cats on the floor. “Happy birthday,” he said, moving over and kissing Katherine on top of her head.

  “You made me breakfast,” she said dreamily. “And pancakes. How sweet!”

  “Aunt Margie’s famous recipe.” He set the tray on Katherine’s lap. “But first let me feed the kids.” On the tray were also five fine china dishes filled with salmon paté. The cats had become very vocal and loud. “Here,” he said, putting the dishes on the floor. “Bon appétit!”

  “Really, I could have come downstairs,” Katherine said, “but I couldn’t get up. I was literally crushed to the bed by cats. Did I mention they were warm and toasty?” She laughed heartily.

  “Let me pour us some coffee,” Jake said, smiling, as he climbed onto the tall renaissance-revival bed.

  Katherine asked, “Did you have a good night sleep? Disturbed in the night by paranormal spirits? You know that room is the haunted one.”

  “I was too exhausted to see a ghost,” he joked. “But in the middle of the night, I woke up to the sound of something tapping on the window glass. It was this woman in white. She called me ‘Heathcliff’ —”

  “Her name was Catherine spelled with a C!”

  “I see you’ve read Wuthering Heights. It’s kind of spooky when the wind whips around the house and the window glass rattles. That ancient wallpaper didn’t help much either. Did you know that if you look at the wall long enough you can see a skull repeated in the pattern?”

  “No way,” Katherine countered. “That’s a famous William Morris design. I never noticed it.”

  “Well, check it out.” Jake handed her a steamy cup. “I found your stash of pumpkin spice coffee from the Covered Bridge Festival. I made a full pot so when you get dressed, we can go downstairs, drink coffee, and curl up on the loveseat. The parlor window is featuring snow, snow and more snow,” he teased.

  “Ma-waugh,” Scout agreed between bites.

  “What does the weatherman say?”

  “Nothing really dramatic,” he began slowly, emphasizing each word. “We could be snowed in by mid-day. It’s really coming down now. With the wind, we could have a blizzard.” He then flashed his Cokenberger smile and said with a twinkle in his eye, “The University is closed today and maybe even tomorrow, which means you’ll have to put up with me until the big thaw.”

  Katherine smiled. “I hope it doesn’t thaw anytime soon.”

  They were interrupted by a strange sound from one of the cats: “Yum. Yum.”

  “Which one is doing that?” Jake asked, leaning over the bed to look down.

  Katherine laughed. “The yum yum sound is coming from Abby. That’s how she eats,” she said, taking another bite of pancake oozing with thick maple syrup. “I think it’s priceless.”

  “We’ll have to cancel our trip to the city to celebrate your birthday. I already set out some steaks to thaw. I’m the official chef tonight.”

  “Best looking chef I’ve ever seen,” Katherine replied playfully.

  Iris, always the first cat to finish eating, jumped up on the bed. She instantly saw her opportunity and snatched a pancake off Katherine’s plate. Straddling it like a multi-legged creature, she leapt off the bed. The pancake fell out of her mouth and sailed sideways like a Frisbee. Scout and Abra were right on it and collectively sprang in the air to catch it. A cat fight between two sisters erupted into multiple hisses and growls, until Abra won the altercation. She yanked the pancake out of Scout’s mouth and ran down the hall with her prize.

  Jake and Katherine burst out laughing. “My cats,” Katherine said. “They’d do anything.”

  * * *

  In the late afternoon, Jake trudged to the carriage house and found a snow shovel. He cleared a path back to the pink mansion. He removed snow on the front porch and sidewalk as well, but fresh powder quickly recovered it. Katherine gazed out the window at the winter spectacle while Scout and Abra sat on the windowsill, standing on their hind legs trying to capture snowflakes through the glass. It brought back a memory of the previous winter when she watched for Mark Dunn, the estate attorney, to arrive. So much has happened since then, she reflected. She’d moved from a busy metropolis to the slow pace of a town where everyone knew each other, and all local businesses except the bars shut down by nine o’clock. And she’d fallen in love with Jake Cokenberger.

  Mark was in the process of closing his Erie law office to move to Indianapolis and join a large firm. He was still representing her great aunt Orvenia’s estate, and would continue until the final distribution in less than two months. He telephoned or texted, but it was business-related, seldom personal. He might ask about the cats once in a while, particularly Abby. The well-being of Abby was paramount to Katherine’s inheriting the Colfax fortune. No Abby, no inheritance.

  A few weeks earlier, Mark had been at Katherine’s side, during the Patricia Marston murder trial. Because of a change of venue, the case wasn’t tried in Erie, but in neighboring Shaleville, in Brook County. Patricia was charged with the murder of Katherine’s ex-boyfriend, Gary, as well as her own mother, the former housekeeper, Vivian. The murders had taken place in late February, and didn’t come to trial until ten months later.

  Katherine had to testify about discovering the two bodies. It was extremely stressful to recount those awful events, and to be in the same room with a woman who had caused so much sorrow. When the prosecuting attorney asked Katherine about the jimson seeds, which Patricia had placed in food, intending to poison her, Patricia stood up and started yelling obscenities. The judge ordered her attorney to silence his client, but Patricia threatened Katherine, “Wait and see what I do to you!” Members of the jury were shocked by the outburst. The judge recessed for the day and asked to speak to counsel in his chambers. He advised Patricia’s lawyer that he should rein in his client’s verbal displays to prevent further criminal charges.

  On the next day, Cokey Cokenberger, the estate’s handyman, was called to the stand to answer questions about his brief affair with Patricia — particularly how she used him to get in and out of the mansion. Patricia went ballistic and called Cokey a liar. Cokey’s wife Margie glared at Patricia. The judge had grown furious. “Ms. Marston, if I hear one more word out of you, I’ll have you removed from this courtroom.”

  “I don’t care,” Patricia said. “I’m a dead woman walking.” The outburst sealed her fate. The jury deliberated for less than two hours. The only evidence they wished to revisit was the coroner’s toxicology report. When they returned to the courtroom, they found Patricia guilty on all counts.

  Patricia’s sentencing was scheduled for today, but Katherine opted not to go and asked Mark to attend in her place. He said he’d call as soon as he learned something.

  When the house telephone rang, Katherine flinched. She moved to the atrium marble-top curio cabinet to answer it. “Hello,” she answered anxiously, hoping it was Mark.

  “Hey, Katz. It’s Mark. Happy birthday,” he said. “How does it feel t
o be twenty-seven?”

  “Hi, Mark. It feels like being twenty-six,” she laughed, then asked seriously, “I take it the sentencing was postponed because of the weather.”

  “Brook County isn’t part of the snow emergency so the courthouse is open. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there in person, but I just got a call from the Prosecutor . . . ”

  Katherine interrupted, “What’s the sentence?”

  “The judge threw the book at her. She got maximum for Gary’s and her mother’s murders. She’ll spend the rest of her miserable life in prison, with little or no chance of parole.”

  Katherine sighed. “I don’t know what to say. That I’m happy? That I’m glad? What she took from this world can never be replaced.”

  “I’m truly sorry,” Mark consoled. “Chief London said she’ll be transferred from the Brook County Jail to the women’s correctional facility in Indy. It’s a done deal, Katz. Do you want me to call Gary’s sister, Monica, and tell her the verdict?”

  “No, Mark, I will. Thanks for calling —”

  “Before you hang up,” Mark interrupted. “I have a birthday surprise for you. Will you be home in the next half-hour? I want to bring it over to you.”

  “You really shouldn’t have,” Katherine said, “but I’m flattered you remembered my birthday. How did you know, anyway? My Facebook page, bank documents . . . ”

  “Oh, a little birdie told me,” Mark laughed on the other end.

  “One that flies in Manhattan,” Katherine said in jest, realizing her best friend, Colleen, must have told him the previous month when Mark drove her to the airport.

  “Guilty,” Mark said. “Be there in a minute,” he said hanging up.

  Katherine tried to put the phone down, but Scout came out of nowhere and kicked the receiver out of her hand.

  “Scout, what’s the matter with you? Gimme the phone,” she said, wrestling the instrument from the Siamese’s strong paws.

  Jake knocked and opened the front door. He came in and stamped his boots on the hall mat. Iris ran to greet him, then began patting the snow that fell from his boots. With her deep-blue eyes, she looked up at Katherine and seemed to say, “What’s this, Mom? It’s cold on my paws.”