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

by Karen Anne Golden

  Linda changed the subject. “Katz, let’s get back to Emily. Why are you interested in her?”

  Katherine took a sip of her margarita. “Well, because Cokey said when he went to the museum to return Margie’s cell phone, Emily nearly knocked him down running out of the place. He said she looked very upset.”

  “I know. That’s what he told me. He also said Nick Miller was at the crime scene, as well. This is public knowledge. But you didn’t answer the question,” Linda pursued. “Why are you interested in Emily?”

  Katherine gave an angry look. “Figuratively speaking, if I were Emily, I’d want to strangle the jerk, as well —”

  Colleen finished, “With the Hawaiian necktie the poor girl probably gave him when they met in Hawaii.” She crossed herself and said, “The saints preserve us. It’s wrong to talk about the newly departed.”

  Katherine continued, “He conned her into moving to Indiana, then he takes up with a married woman. Who does that? Emily was nuts about him.”

  “Nuts, perhaps, but not in the way you mentioned,” Linda posed. She reached for her bag, which was hanging on the aluminum side chair. She unzipped it, then removed her cell phone. She began panning through pictures. “I need to check something. Colleen, when you mentioned stepping on the cat toys, it made me think of something odd at the crime scene. We found a small plastic cap, sort of like a pen cap, on the floor, but didn’t know what it was. Let me enlarge this. Yes, yes,” she said excitedly. “There it is.” She showed the picture to Katherine and Colleen.

  “It looks exactly like the cap on the syringe Abby brought in,” Katherine said knowingly. She had suspected Emily all along. She remembered Scout’s half-hearted Halloween dance in front of the young graphic artist.

  Linda got up and swiftly put on her coat. “Excuse me, ladies. I need to make a few calls. I need to find Emily Bradworth.”

  Abby, who was now sitting demurely on the counter with her front paw on a yarn mouse, was watching the women with great interest.

  Katherine said, “Wait just a second. If Emily did murder Robbie by injecting him with poison, how did she get it? It’s not like she walked into the drug store and bought it.”

  Linda answered, “We need to find out where Emily’s mom works, and as a marine biologist, if she has access to some fast-acting poison. If she does, we need to find out how Emily got it.”

  Colleen said, “That’s easy. Emily stole it!”

  Katherine asked, “But how did she know what to steal?”

  Colleen tossed her head back and said, “I just watched this show on Animal Planet about these poisonous sea creatures from Hawaii that can kill a human in five minutes. Katz, you said Emily told you she visited Hawaii. Maybe she found out about it there, or from her mom.”

  “Whoa! That’s a good lead. The CSI lab needs to test the cap found at the crime scene for a toxic substance. I’ll make sure they know the aquarium connection. I’ll talk to you guys later, but in the meantime, would you two brainstorming sleuths please keep quiet about this new theory?” Linda asked, rising to leave.

  Katherine followed Linda to the door and said, “Keep me posted.”

  “Will do. See you later,” Linda left and got in her car. Katherine went back to the kitchen.

  Colleen was dipping another chip. “I may be a little buzzed from that margarita, but did we just solve a crime?”

  Katherine laughed. “I’m not sure. We suspect Emily was that woman scorned. We know that Julie Miller was having an affair with Robbie. Our friend, Detective Martin, mentioned a male suspect being held at the jail. We know it’s not Cokey because he’s home with Margie and the kids. I’m banking the male suspect is Julie Miller’s husband, Nick.”

  Colleen shook her head. “That wouldn’t explain the dollar bills stuffed in Robbie’s mouth. Nick’s motive was simple. His wife was cheating with Robbie.”

  Katherine thought for a moment, then said, “Maybe Julie invested lots of money with Robbie and when Nick found out, he confronted Robbie at the museum. When I first went to meet Robbie at his office, while I was heading out, I bumped into Nick. I didn’t know him at the time, but met him at the museum opening. I heard him threaten to break someone’s neck. I’m assuming it was Robbie’s neck. Also, Cokey saw him leave the utility room where Robbie was murdered. But what I’m saying is pure conjecture. I’m not the detective. Just an interested bystander.”

  Colleen rubbed her forehead. “My brain’s a bit fuzzy right now. Emily and Nick killed Robbie, but who stabbed him?”

  “Multiple stab wounds indicate a hate crime. I learned that in my criminology class at NYU. Maybe Emily came back to finish the job,” Katherine said.

  “Just in case the toxin didn’t work.”

  “Yes, does this remind you of anything?” Katherine asked sadly.

  “Déjà vu! That Marston woman and how she killed Gary. I’m sorry, Katz.”

  Katherine then thought about the movie Gosford Park, and how one of the cats had surfed up that page. “Colleen, care to join me in the living room for a movie? I can Netflix it.”

  “Sure,” Colleen said, getting up. “What movie?”

  “Gosford Park.”

  “Oh, the saints preserve us,” Colleen said, shocked. “The movie was about a murder committed by multiple people by different ways. Katz, sometimes your cats can be a little bit too eerie!”

  Katherine smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  Chapter Eight

  On Monday after lunch, Katherine drove downtown to the Erie police headquarters, and asked the officer at the front desk if Chief London was available. The officer, a middle-aged man with a military-style haircut, was one she didn’t recognize, new to the Erie force. He nodded and directed her to Chief London’s office. The chief was sitting behind his desk with his feet up, drinking from a giant bottle of water. Between gulps he said, “Thanks, Bill,” to the officer, and then to Katherine, “Did you come to chew me out about taking Cokey into custody?” He pointed toward a chair.

  Katz sat down and folded her jacket on her lap. “Actually, I’m here to discuss business. Do you have a few minutes?”

  “Sure,” he said with a rising intonation, tugging at his beard. He threw the now-empty water bottle into the waste can. “Two points,” he boasted.

  “Initially the evidence did point to Cokey. I understand why you suspected him and brought him in for questioning. What I didn’t count on was the number of ways Robbie Brentwood died.”

  “Yep, poisoned, strangled and stabbed.” The chief shook his head. “Poisoned by his jilted girlfriend, strangled by a disgruntled husband, and then the grand finale — psycho girlfriend comes back and stabs him. Pure rage. Erie has become a regular Peyton Place,” he spitted. “Cokey screwed up by leaving the crime scene and not calling 911.”

  “True, but if it’s any consolation, Cokey is now the star witness. He saw both Emily and Nick leave the crime scene. By the way, Chief, is Emily behind bars?”

  The chief nodded. “She’s in custody, and her defense lawyer is arranging to have her mental competency evaluated.” Changing the subject, the chief said, “Detective Martin told me how your cat was instrumental in solving the case. That’s pretty damn extraordinary.”

  Not wanting the chief to know about her cats’ special talents, Katherine downplayed the remark. “My cat thought the syringe was a toy.”

  “Which cat was it? The big Siamese that springs up and down like a Halloween cat?” The chief referred to Scout’s death dance in front of the body of former housekeeper, Vivian Marston.

  “No, not my Siamese, Scout. This time it was my great aunt’s cat, Abigail. She’s a bit of a thief and stole it out of Emily’s camera case. You’re not going to arrest Abby, are you?”

  The chief emitted a laugh punctuated with short snorts. “No, I don’t think I can. I don’t have any cuffs that would fit her.” He slapped his knee. “That was a good one,” he added.

  “Just out of curiosity, and you pro
bably can’t tell me, but did you hear from the lab about what kind of poison it was?”

  “Actually, I can tell you. I just approved a press release and you’ll hear it on the news. Emily Bradworth stole the poison from the lab where her mother works.”

  “At the Heartland Aquarium, right?”

  The chief nodded. He sorted through some papers, picked one up and read, “South sea cone shell. Toxic, poisonous and deadly. Seems Emily wasn’t as innocent as everyone thought. She stole the poison before she moved to Indiana.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Her mother told me. She didn’t want to be fired from her job so she kept it quiet.”

  “So she knew her daughter had stolen it?”

  “No, she suspected she did, but when she confronted her, Emily denied it.”

  “Emily must have suspected Robbie was a womanizer, yet she still moved here to be close to him,” Katherine said.

  “There’s no accounting for taste. You’ve got to admit, for someone who is nuttier than a fruitcake, Emily was pretty clever.”

  “I feel sorry for her,” Katherine said, and then came to the point, “I didn’t come here to talk about Cokey or Emily. Soon I’ll be inheriting the rest of my great aunt’s estate. I’m asking various people to sit on the board — ”

  “Board?” he interrupted. “Oh, and by the way, congratulations. My ole buddy Mark told me you just got a check for five million.”

  “Is there anything in this town that’s private?” she kidded, knowing that the chief and the estate attorney were close friends. “I guess it’s not exactly secret. I’m thinking everyone in Erie knows it by now.”

  “What kind of board?” the chief asked again.

  “I’m forming a board to help me distribute my money to various agencies, causes, and charities. I’ll be the head of it, of course, but I want people whom I trust sitting on the board. I’ve grown to trust your judgment.”

  “I’d be honored,” the chief said, flattered. Before he had time to say more, the landline rang. He reached over and put the call on speaker. “Yes,” he answered gruffly in his usual police-chief way.

  “Chief London, this is Sheriff Goodman. I just got a call from the Indy Women’s Correctional Facility. My deputy, who was transporting a prisoner from our jail to Indy, never showed up. Prisoner’s last name: Marston. Patricia. She managed to escape at the I-74 rest stop west of Brownsburg. Subject is at large and armed. She stole my deputy’s gun and hit him on the head with it.”

  Katherine leaned forward in her seat with obvious alarm.

  “What?” the chief barked into the speaker. “When was this?”

  “Earlier this morning, sometime around nine o’clock. I just found out a few minutes ago. I wanted to let you know the suspect might be headed to her old stomping grounds.”

  “Okay, let’s back up. What the hell happened?”

  The Sheriff continued, “Deputy Jones was found by a couple from Illinois, slumped over in the driver’s seat of the county vehicle. He was unconscious, but when he came to, he said it happened about an hour earlier. He’s suffering from a concussion but is going to be okay. The Marston woman was seen by a trucker, still at the rest stop, jumping into a red pickup truck, driving across the median, and speeding northwest. I’ve notified the state police.”

  “Damn,” the chief exploded. “How does a trained officer get disarmed by an unarmed woman riding in the back seat? Did the dumbass let her sit up front?”

  “Deputy Jones is on administrative leave until we find out what the hell happened,” Sheriff Goodman said defensively.

  “Listen, thanks, Sheriff. Keep me informed and up-to-date.” He pressed the off button and fired Katherine a worried glance.

  Katherine was shaking her head. “My nightmare with this woman just won’t stop. What should I do?”

  “The state police will find her. It won’t be long before she’s in custody again,” he assured. “But in the meantime, I want you to go home, pack a bag, and get out of town for a few days. Text me where you are. I’m not sayin’ I can provide police surveillance. Probably can’t because we don’t have the manpower, but try to get away from Erie, as far as you can. Patricia’s nuts. She might come after you.”

  Katherine hurriedly got up and walked to the door. “I’ll be in touch.”

  The chief had grabbed the phone and was punching in a number. He waved Katherine on rather abruptly, but she understood he was angry about the latest turn of events, and he was concerned about her safety.

  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. “Patricia Marston escaped. 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.”

  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. Would Patricia be stupid enough to park in front when the police are looking for her?

  Quickly getting out of the car, she rushed up the steps to the front porch landing. She was startled when Mrs. Murphy opened the door.

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

  “Whose truck is that?” Katherine asked uneasily.

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

  Katherine took Mrs. Murphy 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. 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 her to her back hallway bedroom. She pulled the Glock out of the gun safe and joined Mum outside her door.

  “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 in the kitchen.”

  “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 vehicle Patricia Marston stole 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 woman 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.

  Walking into the living room, with her gun poised to shoot, Katherine found Patricia Marston sitting on the mauve loveseat. She had Abby by the scruff of her neck and was pointing the stolen deputy’s gun at the terrified Abyssinian. “Come any closer and I’ll kill her,” the woman threatened, then added in a menacing voice. “Now put your freakin’ gun down.”

  Slowly Ka
therine lowered her Glock, placed it carefully on the coffee table, and stepped back.

  “Nice seeing you again, Ms. Kendall. I thought we’d have a little chat before I blow your head off. But for starters, I think I’ll kill each of your cats, one-by-one.”

  “No-o-o,” Katherine pleaded. “What is it you want from me? I can help you get out of the state. I can drive you wherever you want to go, but don’t hurt my kids.” From the corner of her eye, she could see a shape moving through the back office hallway and up behind Patricia’s loveseat. It was Jake.

  Katherine immediately tried to distract Patricia. “I’ve got money to give you. Just let me make this right.”

  Jake had almost reached the loveseat, when one of the wood floorboards creaked noisily. Patricia threw Abby to the floor, turned and saw him.

  Abby righted herself and raced out of the room. Scout and Abra were in the short hallway doing the death dance — swaying back and forth. Their eyes were glowing red in the dim light.

  Jake dove for the loveseat but Patricia was already standing up. She raised her gun and shot Jake.

  Katherine lunged to the coffee table and picked up her Glock. She aimed and pulled the trigger. Her first shot hit Patricia in the arm. But, when Katherine realized that wasn’t going to stop her, she aimed and fired a second shot.

  Patricia returned a volley of shots, but the bullets hit the Belter chair and the stained glass transom instead. She staggered, dropped her gun, and fell back onto the loveseat. Katherine hurriedly kicked the gun out of reach.

  Jake continued walking. His eyes were glazed and an expression of shock had spread on his handsome face. He then slumped to the floor.

  Mum ran into the room, screaming. “What’s happening?”

  Katherine rushed to Jake’s side. He was unconscious and losing blood. She took off her coat and removed her zip-up jacket. Using her jacket, she balled it up and applied pressure directly to Jake’s wound, which was in his shoulder, just below his left collarbone.

  Tears were streaming down her face, “Oh, no! Oh, no!” she kept saying in shock. The cats, led by Scout and Abra, came into the room and stood sentry over Jake’s prostrate body. Their eyes seemed to reveal sadness and alarm. Scout began crying a mournful “waugh.” The others joined in.