“Stop that!” Katherine scolded.
Crowie, the other seal-point kitten, did the same.
“Get down,” Katherine said in her I-mean-business voice.
“Mao,” Dewey cried with surprising volume. The kitten had the voice of a baritone. He unhooked his claws and fell to the windowsill. Crowie did the same. Iris jumped up between the two and began washing Dewey’s ears. Miss Siam had finally found a buddy.
Katherine returned to the picnic table and set the place mat down. She grabbed the second one and held both of them down with her elbow while she waited for Jake.
After fifteen minutes, Jake drove up in the Jeep. He parked and climbed out. Walking over to the passenger side, he took out a large bag.
Katherine put her hand over her mouth to cover a laugh. Jake was wearing his John Dillinger’s outfit. He taught a history course on Prohibition, and whenever he got to the part about organized crime, he dressed up like the famous 1930s Indiana gangster. “Teaching about the bad boys today?”
Jake winked.
“Did anyone at the deli notice your attire?”
“If they did, they didn’t say anything.” He leaned down and kissed Katherine on the top of her head.
“Actually, I never told you this before,” she began, “but I think you look more like Johnny Depp in the movie than Dillinger.”
“Yep, I’ve been told that. But I think you got it backwards. Johnny Depp looks like me,” he said with a mischievous look in his eyes.
He tried to set the carry-out bag on the table, but a gust of wind prevented him from letting go of the handle. “Wow,” he said, clutching it. “It’s gotten really breezy out. Want to go inside?”
“I have a cool idea. Let’s eat in the carriage house. We’ve never done that before, and I wanted to talk to you about something without the cats overhearing.”
“What?” he asked curiously. “You think your cats understand us when we talk?”
“Um, yes, my cats do. See them,” she said, pointing up at the sun porch. “They’re listening right now.”
“Ma-waugh,” Scout agreed.
“Hi, kids,” Jake called up to them.
Katherine got up and grabbed two nearby plastic lawn chairs. Jake moved over, “Here, you take the sack and I’ll carry the chairs.”
“Okay, but it’s a bag, not a sack.”
“Maybe in New York, but not here.” He took the chairs inside the carriage house and positioned them near an overturned empty crate. “We can use this as a table. What about forks and knives?”
“Got that covered, too,” she said, returning to the storage cabinet and removing a picnic basket. “Within this basket is everything you’d ever need in a picnic emergency.” She pulled out plastic forks and knives, and set them on the crate.
“Emergency picnic basket,” he chuckled. “That works.” From the carry-out bag, he lifted two Styrofoam food containers. He handed one to Katherine, as well as a stack of napkins.
Katherine immediately got the joke. She was notorious for spilling things on her clothes. “Very funny,” she commented.
Jake opened his container and dove in.
Biting into the chicken, Katherine said, with her mouth full, “The cats have been busy surfing up scary things on the computer.”
Jake laughed. “This ought to be interesting. Like what?”
“The hotel I booked in Chicago is on multiple floors, starting on the seventh. Their website was down, so the cats heard me making the reservation on the phone. Less than a half hour later, guess what was up on my computer screen?”
“Let me guess. Knowing your cats, something about hotel fires.”
“Sort of. How about the old movie trailer for The Towering Inferno?”
“I take it you cancelled the reservation,” Jake said, amused, but in awe of the extraordinariness of Katherine’s cats.
“So, I searched on the Internet for a place we could stay, which wouldn’t involve a super-long drive,” she said in-between bites of coleslaw. “Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, is about eight hours from Erie. I was just about to book a mountain-view cabin that is so awesome, it even has a Jacuzzi.”
“I’ve been to Pigeon Forge when I was a teenager. There’s an amusement park nearby that’s really fun. Lots of down home cookin’ and music. We’ll have to check that out.”
Katherine shook her head. “Ah, not thinkin’ so. The cats heard me talking about it to Margie, and guess what? A few hours later, I walk into my office and there on the screen was a gruesome photo of a mother bear protecting her cubs.”
“Gruesome meaning a human was getting mauled?”
“Yes, afraid so.”
“They’re definitely bears in that neck of the woods, so let’s nix that one, too. Besides, I don’t relish driving eight hours there and back. That would really cut into our together time. Any other suggestions, or do we spend our honeymoon at the mansion with the cats, because I think that’s what they want us to do.”
“I’ll try and locate a hotel near Chicago that’s only a few stories high. Or should we stick with our original plan and stay near the Navy Pier?”
Jake shook his head. “No, if the cats surfed up those pages, we ought to heed their warning.”
“Agreed.”
“Listen, let me call a colleague of mine who teaches at the University of Chicago. Maybe he can suggest a hotel with lower floors?”
“And fire escapes,” Katherine added, tearing off another piece of chicken.
Changing the subject, Jake asked, “Did you make the appointment with Dr. Sonny to neuter the kittens?”
“I didn’t call from inside the mansion. I came out here and called him. Lord knows what would happen if the cats overheard that conversation, especially Iris. She’s bonded so much to Dewey, I can imagine there will be a bit of separation anxiety.”
“I’m so glad they hit it off. It’s funny that Scout and Abra are littermates and best friends, but Dewey and Crowie aren’t.”
“That’s okay, because Lilac and Abby have adopted Crowie. The climbing cat club has to stick together,” Katherine laughed, remembering how at first the kittens thought Jake was a tree. Then she added, “Dr. Sonny is keeping Dewey and Crowie for several days, so we don’t have to worry about them while we’re gone. Plus, it will be two fewer cats for our pet sitter to take care of.”
“I just saw Elsa at the deli. She was chatting up the Erie reporter guy, what’s his name?”
“Russell Krow. He’s our wedding photographer, silly goose, and you can’t remember his name?”
“I do now, ‘silly goose’ right back at ya. Elsa is good at cat wrangling, but she’s barkin’ up the wrong tree with Russell. Folks at the diner said he’s Erie’s new Casanova.”
Katherine made a face. “Yes, and everything the diner folks say is true.”
Jake teased, “Just like the Internet.”
Chapter Three
Sitting on an Eastlake side chair, Katherine sat in the atrium, studying the guest list for the wedding reception. A few minutes earlier, Jake’s mom, Cora Cokenberger, had hand-delivered the list. She didn’t stay long because she was allergic to cats. The kittens — Dewie and Crowie — didn’t get that memo, and kept jumping on her lap, while Iris tried to steal things from her Vera Bradley bag. Between sneezes, Cora raved that most of the invitees had RSVP’d, and were delighted to attend.
The previous month, Katherine had given her future mother-in-law free rein to host the reception, as long as she had nothing to do with planning the wedding itself. However, she did convince Cora to invite guests the couple knew, and not everyone in the State of Indiana. Katherine could count on two hands the number of people she was acquainted with in town, but Cora seemed to know every single man, woman, and child in Erie and the surrounding counties.
The reception was being held in the armory that had been built in 1931 with WPA funds. It was the site of the famous cake auction where Lilac — flying Siamese — leveled the cake table, including Co
ra’s famous volcano cake. Back in December, the committee for the annual charity event had sent Katherine a snippy letter stating both Lilac and she were banned from attending another function. Katherine wondered how much Cora paid the committee under the table to allow Jake and her to have their reception there. Probably plenty, she surmised, either in money or cakes. If it were left to the happy couple, they’d prefer a less-conspicuous setting with fewer people, but Katherine wanted to please her future mother-in-law, so she acquiesced.
Studying the list, she noticed that most of the attendees were Cokenbergers. Jake had a huge extended family, led by Grandpa Cokenberger, who was so entertaining, he could be a stand-up comedian. Scanning through the names, she finally came to people she knew. Mark Dunn, the former estate attorney for her late great-aunt, was coming with Detective Linda Martin. They’d become quite an item. Katherine was happy about that.
When she read “Mrs. Murphy and Guest,” she said out loud, “What? Mum is bringing a guest. I wonder who it is?” Mum’s son, Jacky — Colleen’s youngest brother — was attending, but his name was already on the list. Jacky was flying out of LaGuardia Airport in a few days, but brothers Jimmy and Joey sent their regrets. Katherine thought that was okay, because she really didn’t know Jimmy and Joey very well. They were ten years older and hung around with their own crowd.
She continued reading. “Marcia Harper Smith and Guest send their regrets.” Cora didn’t know the story about Evan Hamilton — the Vietnam veteran who had saved her life two months earlier. Katherine knew that Marcia and Evan were going to be in Indy that weekend. Evan had an appointment with a prosthetic eye surgeon.
Mid-way through the list, she spotted a name she wasn’t familiar with — Veronica Lake. The 1940s movie star, Katherine thought, then read the penciled-in comment next to Veronica’s name, written by Cora herself: “Victoria’s mom is not able to attend.”
“Oh no, she didn’t,” Katherine said, shocked. “She invited Jake’s deceased wife’s mother? Why would she do that?” Katherine had never met Victoria’s mom. Jake said she kept to herself and didn’t attend many social events. Katherine thought, If she would have come, that would have been so awkward.
Katherine’s cell rang and she slid the bar to answer. “Yes,” she said, sounding annoyed.
“Chief London here. Katz, you got a minute?”
Katherine calmed down. “Yes, of course. What can I help you with?”
“Are you home?”
“Yes.”
“Can you meet me out front? I’m pulling up right now.”
“Sure,” Katherine answered. She wondered what on earth the chief had to tell her in person that couldn’t be said on the phone. Then the hair stood up on the back of her neck. She started to panic. Did something bad happen to Jake? Was he in a car accident? She flew to the front door, opened it, and hurried out.
The chief met her on the sidewalk. “I’ll cut right to the chase. We’ve had a number of suspicious fires this month. The fire inspector suspects foul play.”
“Why would anyone do such a thing?” she asked, shuddering at the thought.
“This town has always been full of fire bugs. Last year we caught the arsonist who was torching barns out in the country. He’s up for trial next week.”
“I heard about that, but he’s in jail, so it couldn’t be him.”
“Last night, Becky’s Antique Store burned. Firefighters were able to put it out before any of the neighboring buildings’ caught on fire. It’s a mess. Our volunteer fire department has really been taxed. We just don’t have the manpower to keep up with this.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Katherine said, then made a mental note to do something about that situation.
“I’ll get to the point. The buildings downtown are on the national register of historic places.”
“I hope Becky’s Antique Store can be rebuilt, but the antiques are gone forever.”
“Katz, be on the lookout, and report anything suspicious around your house. Your Queen Anne Victorian would be an ideal target for an arsonist.”
“I will, Chief. Thanks for stopping by and telling me in person.” She respected the fact that the chief was a bona fide worrywart, and always one step ahead of the game.
“Katz,” he said, tipping his police chief hat. “Watch your back.”
She nodded.
The chief got into his cruiser, and drove east on Lincoln Street.
Katherine turned to go back inside the house, but two Siamese looking out the parlor picture window caught her attention. Inside on the windowsill, Abra stretched tall on her rear haunches, and with her front paws dangling, assumed her new Meerkat pose; Scout was sitting next to her, clearly agitated. Both wore troubled expressions on their brown masks.
Katherine went inside to comfort them, and was amazed at how quickly the Siamese made it to the door. “Back, back,” she said, putting her foot up in case Scout flung out. She hurried in and shut the heavy oak door. “You two are fast.”
“Waugh,” Scout cried, rubbing against her leg. Katherine picked her up and kissed her on the head. Abra reached up to be held. “Okay, how about I sit on the floor for a group hug.” She set Scout down, and hugged the two cats. “It’s okay,” she comforted. “We’re safe here. No one is going to try and hurt us.” She mouthed the words, but was worried. A distant memory ran through her head.
When she was younger, and lived with her parents in Brooklyn, the attic floor of their townhouse caught on fire. She’d remembered waking up to the blaring alarm, the smell of smoke, and her parents rousing her from her bed. Her father carried Katherine downstairs, while her mom opened the front door to safety. Even though the firefighters had quickly put out the flames, Katherine couldn’t extinguish the memory.
Chapter Four
Katherine walked into the cat’s playroom and gazed happily at the cats. Scout and Abra were sharing a cozy bed on the perch of a cat tree. Nearby, Lilac, Abby and Crowie were snuggled in another bed, while Iris and Dewey cuddled in the third.
“Ahhh,” she cooed. “You kids are way too cute.” She reached in her back pocket and extracted her cell. She clicked several pictures of her cats, planning to use one for her monitor’s desktop background.
Scout jumped off the cat tree, stretched, and sharpened her claws on the sisal-covered post. Abra did the same.
Katherine said to Abra, “I need to borrow your sister for a minute.”
“Raw,” Abra protested.
Katherine gathered Scout in her arms, walked downstairs, and carried her to the front door. Abra followed, voicing her displeasure in a loud, catly way. “Next time, Abra, but Scout gets to go first.” Earlier, Katherine had placed the nylon harness on Scout, so she’d get used to it before the walk. She was amazed that Scout didn’t mind wearing it. She attached the leash and walked out the door. Abra ran out, too.
“No, you can’t come.” Holding Scout with one hand, she caught Abra with the other, and set her inside the house.
Walking down the porch steps, Katherine could hear Abra having a complete, royal Siamese cat fit behind the door.
Katherine leaned down and set Scout on the sidewalk. The seal point trotted several feet, then collapsed on her side. She began rolling back-and-forth.
“Scout, what are you doing? We’re taking a walk.” She slightly nudged the Siamese with the toe of her sneaker. Scout jumped up and walked several more feet. Then Scout spotted a grassy area, and she lunged for it.
“Enough,” Katherine reprimanded. “I know this isn’t your first rodeo, so get moving.”
“Na-waugh,” Scout cried, snatching a blade of grass and chewing on it.
Katherine admitted to herself that Scout’s first walk on the leash was proving to be a challenge. Scout alternated between trotting a few feet, and collapsing on the grass with her blue eyes slightly crossed in pure feline ecstasy.
“Scout, this is killing my back having to reach down to pick you up,” Katherine complained.
The Siamese totally ignored her and rolled on her back. Kicking her back legs, she cried a loud series of Siamese complaints.
“Okay, that’s it. We’re going back inside.” When Katherine tried to pick up the sassy Siamese, Scout dug her front claws into the grass. “Let go,” she said, grabbing a paw and trying to unhook five entangled claws.
Scout released her claws and charged toward the yellow brick American Foursquare next door to the mansion. During Prohibition, the house had a speakeasy in the basement, and a tunnel that connected it to the mansion. The previous year, Katherine’s great-uncle’s skeleton had been found in the tunnel.
“Scout, slow down.”
A dark gray Ford Taurus pulled up and a silver-haired woman got out. “Are you Katherine?” the woman asked.
Katherine noted the logo on the passenger-side door — Erie Realty.
“Yes, and you are?” she asked, as she picked up Scout and held her in her arms.
“I’m Ava Franklin. I’m a Realtor with Erie Realty; been there over twenty years.”
“How may I help you?” Katherine asked, suspecting Ava wanted more than to stop by and chat.
“I heard through the grapevine that you’ve let the listing on this house expire. I stopped by to let you know I’m available in case you want to relist it.”
“Let’s talk,” Katherine said. “Would you like to go inside the house and take a look-see?”
“Sure, I’d love to.”
Katherine directed the way with Scout struggling in her arms to be set free. “Quit it!” she said sternly.
Ava looked perplexed. “Quit what?”
“I’m sorry. I was talking to my cat. She’s not being very cooperative today. This is our first time taking a walk on a leash. She’d much rather walk me.”
The Cats that Stalked a Ghost Page 2
