Karen Anne Golden - The Cats That 03 - The Cats That Told a Fortune

by Karen Anne Golden

  Katherine rolled her eyes and said, “In Brooklyn we had a problem with spray paint, but can’t remember if my parent’s townhouse ever got egged.”

  “So, Ms. Kendall, how do you know Stacy Grimes?” the chief asked, coming right to the point. “It must be important, or you wouldn’t have called.”

  “Stacy started my computer class yesterday. She brought her little girl because her mom was sick and couldn’t babysit. Both Stacy and her little girl wore matching gold bracelets. When I admired them, Stacy said her daughter’s father gave them the jewelry, and that they were meeting him in a few minutes,” Katherine explained.

  The chief wore his usual hurry up and tell me expression on his face.

  Katherine took the hint and finished, “Then, Jake tells me the little girl’s father died in combat overseas. So, why would she lie to me? Where was she going? Who was she meeting?”

  The chief scratched his beard and said, “Thanks for the tip. I’ll pass the info on to Sheriff Goodman. These multiple murders have everyone on edge, but this time the victim is from Erie. I pray Stacy makes it. She’s the town’s sweetheart, and everybody loves her. I’ve known her mom for a long time, and used to go fishing with her dad.”

  “Her mom said she was in critical condition, but I don’t know the extent of her injuries,” Katherine said sadly.

  The chief said abruptly, “And you don’t want to know, either. Keep this under your cap, but the doctors deliberately induced a coma so her body can heal. I believe in miracles. If Stacy makes it, I hope she can tell us who did this to her.”

  “Definitely,” Katherine agreed.

  Jake added, “We need to catch this sick son of a bitch before he strikes again.”

  “Exactly,” the chief said, starting to leave. “Now, if you find out any intel about our ‘eggers’ let me know. I’m off duty now. The wife has a roast in the oven and if I don’t get home soon, she’ll be fit to be tied,” the chief winked. He walked back to his cruiser, got in, and left.

  Jake said, “Knowing the chief, I bet he’s not going straight home.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because right about now he’s heading for Indy to check on Stacy.”

  “But he said he was calling Sheriff Goodman,” Katherine said, confused. “Is he the sheriff for Brook County?”

  Jake nodded his head. “Oh, the chief will call him. Just sayin.’” Jake threw the rag into the bucket. “We’re done here. Margie will be happy she won’t have to repaint the door.”

  “I’m going inside to feed the cats,” Katherine said, leaving.

  “While you’re doing that, I’m going next door to see if your neighbor saw anything.”

  “Not too likely,” Katherine said. “Mrs. Harper is in poor health, but you might want to ask the home health aide. She may have seen something.”

  While Jake walked next door, Katherine locked the exterior classroom door. She headed toward the carport side of the mansion. The overhead porch had been heavily damaged by the tornado. Reconstruction had been very labor intensive and involved lots of millwork. The building was finally finished, and Margie was beginning her four-color-scheme paint work. Two levels of scaffolding still remained.

  Katherine shifted her eyes to the three new double-hung kitchen windows that Cokey and Jake had installed. She saw two cats per window: Abra and Scout were in the first one, followed by Lilac and Abby in the middle, and a lonely Iris in the third. On the inside, Cokey had widened the window sills to give the cats more room, making it easier for them to bask in the sun. The cats were clearly agitated, so she ran to the side steps, hurriedly put the key in the lock, and rushed inside. The cats were caterwauling loudly. The kitchen was a complete disaster. All the cabinet doors were open, and numerous dishes had been knocked out. They were lying on the ceramic tile floor, broken into bits.

  Jake walked in, “What the hell!” he said.

  Katherine grabbed the closest cat and began checking for injuries. Jake did the same. Judging by the number of broken pottery shards, Katherine was shocked that none of the cats was seriously wounded. Jake and Katherine grabbed two at a time and put them in a different room. Iris was yowling at the top of her lungs. Katherine snatched her around the middle.

  “Shhh, Miss Siam,” Katherine cooed. “Was it you, Fredo? Did you do this?”

  “Yowl,” Iris bellowed in protest.

  While Katherine consoled the upset Siamese, Jake found a broom and dustpan and began cleaning up the mess. He said, “You seriously think one of the cats did this?”

  “Well, unless the pink mansion has a poltergeist!” Katherine replied, putting Iris in with the other cats. Scout tried to lunge out. “Not happening, magic cat!” She closed the door and said, “Iris likes to open the cabinet doors. Maybe she opened them and another cat pushed the dishes out.”

  “But why just the dishes?”

  Katherine shrugged.

  “We’d better childproof the cabs,” Jake offered, as he finished sweeping up the mess.

  “Something really upset them. They were all hyper when I came in.”

  “They probably saw whoever threw the eggs and it scared them,” Jake suggested.

  “Did you find out anything next door?”

  “Nope. Mrs. Harper didn’t see a thing, but she’s in a wheelchair. Unless she was parked by one of the windows facing the mansion, she wouldn’t have seen anything anyway. The health aide said she’d taken Mrs. Harper to a doctor’s appointment, so whoever threw the eggs could have done it then. Probably like the chief said – a bunch of Erie brats having some pre-Halloween fun.”

  “Or it could have been Barbie Sanders,” Katherine added.

  “Not thinking so,” Jake said skeptically. “Katz, I promised my dad I’d come over so I’d better take off. Do you want to help me unload the Jeep? I think you bought everything for sale at the festival. But first,” he said, taking Katherine into his arms. “I want to thank you for a wonderful day. Let’s make this a tradition.” He kissed her on the forehead.

  Katherine said, “I’m game.”

  * * *

  A few minutes after Jake left, Katherine was heading for the atrium to go upstairs when the front doorbell clanged noisily. She rushed to open it. Margie was standing outside, holding a box.

  “Come in,” Katherine said smiling, holding the door open.

  “Hey, kiddo. The oops man left this by accident at the yellow brick house.”

  “Oh, yay! I was worried it wouldn’t come. Just set it down any old place.”

  Margie put the large box on the atrium floor.

  “Why do you call the delivery guy the oops man?” Katherine asked curiously.

  “Because he’s always delivering to the wrong address. The joke is he’s been doing this run for twenty years, but I think he’s developed cataracts. He’s a good soul, so nobody complains. I’ve got a box cutter. Want me to open it?” Margie offered.

  “Yes, please. And, thanks for bringing it over.”

  Margie slit the tape and tugged the box open. Inside were more Halloween decorations, with a twelve piece serving set of black dishes, cups and saucers.

  Katherine clapped. She carefully removed the carton of dishes and opened it. Examining the plate, she handed it to Margie. “I thought it was cool the way it has a cobweb design etched in white.”

  “Rather ghoulish!” Margie laughed.

  “I’ll have to eat off these dishes for a while,” Katherine lamented.

  “Why’s that?” Margie asked.

  “My cats opened the cabinet with the dinner plates and hurled them out. Once they hit the ceramic floor, they broke into smithereens.”

  “Eek!” Margie grimaced. “Spitfire has never done anything like that.”

  “They were expensive, too. Tiffany. Waterford.”

  Margie asked, “Were they antiques?”

  “No, they’re new patterns. When I moved here, I thought it was strange that practically everything in the house was brand new,
from the dinnerware to the cleaning equipment. It’s like the housekeeper had a field day buying new stuff. Or my great aunt did. It’s a mystery,” Katherine said, throwing her hands up. “I’ll just add the broken dishes to the growing list of cat disasters. My dear estate lawyer asked me to keep track.”

  “I hope it’s a short list,” Margie teased.

  “Sort of,” Katherine smirked.

  Margie chuckled. “It won’t be too long before you don’t have to put up with him. What is it? Five months?” Margie asked.

  Katherine answered, “Four months. I’ll replace them, or try. Or not. In a few months a few broken dishes won’t matter. I’ll buy whatever I want.”

  Margie said, “I better get going. I need to grab a few things at the brick house, then head on home to start dinner. I gave strict orders to Tommy and Shelly to not open the door to anyone unless it’s me or their dad. This psycho running loose on a murder spree has everyone on edge.”

  “I met Deputy Daryl today at the festival. He talked a little bit about it. Oh, and I finally met Jake’s mom and dad.”

  “Interesting.” Margie gave an understanding, knowing look. “How did that go?”

  Katherine threw her head back and laughed. “My worst nightmare. Jake’s dad seems really nice, but his mom was as cold as ice.”

  Margie said, “It can’t be as bad as that. Cora takes some getting used to. I’ve lived next door to her for years, and we still ain’t friends. She was like that in high school. Got her nose stuck up so high, I’m surprised she doesn’t fall over backwards.”

  Katherine appreciated the moral support. “These facts are good to know.”

  “Okay, kiddo. Gotta go. Take care now.” Margie left. Katherine shut the door behind her and locked it. She picked up the box and hauled it to the kitchen, where she placed it on the Parsons glass-top aluminum table. Scout and Abra appeared out of nowhere and offered their help.

  “Not happening,” Katherine said to the inquisitive cats. “I need to hide these so you pesky cats don’t break them, because if you do, my guests will be eating off paper.”

  “Raw,” Abra cried, fishing out a roll of black crepe paper. She clamped her jaw on it and bounced off the table with Scout in hot pursuit.

  Katherine sat down and laughed heartily. It helped reduce her tension and anxiety about the events of the day. She then got up to look for the Siamese. She found them in the dining room, unravelling the roll and streaming it across the floor.

  “Okay, let me have it. I’m going to decorate for the party. You two go find something else to do.”

  Scout and Abra sassed loudly as they scampered out of the room to pursue other feline adventures somewhere else in the house.

  * * *

  On Wednesday, an hour before the students would arrive for their computer skills practice session, Katherine was rummaging in the carriage house for a rake. She rarely ventured inside the restored building, because the space was completely packed with what she called junk, ranging from the old metal corrugated roofing panels stacked in a corner, to an ancient-looking golf cart. Someday, when the house was legally hers, Katherine planned to have the inside converted into a garage, so she could park her new Subaru.

  Today, she noticed for the first time, a tall wooden ladder leading to an area she hadn’t explored. Carefully climbing the rungs to the ceiling, she pushed a trap door open and gazed into the entire upper expanse of the carriage house, where hay might have been stored long ago. It was littered to the ceiling with more junk. Not relishing opening a can of “cleaning worms” as she had when she cleaned the basement, she made a mental note to pursue it later.

  While climbing down the ladder, she didn’t hear a vehicle pull up, nor see the two men who walked inside. Four feet from the bottom of the ladder, a rung snapped, sending Katherine into a free fall. One of the men caught her in his muscular arms. It was one of the Sanders boys. Unfortunately, it was the one who looked like he’d just been released from prison. The only difference in appearance was he seemed to have washed his hair, but it was still tucked back into a ponytail. The second brother wore a mullet. He cackled nervously.

  “Be careful there, ma’am,” he said, setting her down. “That ladder ain’t no good.”

  Katherine caught her breath and said, “Thanks. What can I do for you today?” She backed up and inched her way to the door.

  “We met you the other day. I’m Stevie Sanders, and this is my numb-nuts brother, Bobby.”

  “I ain’t a numb-nut!” Bobby objected.

  Stevie ran his eyes over Katherine, up and down in a suggestive manner. “What can you do for me today?” he said in a sexy voice.

  Katherine walked out and headed for the classroom.

  Stevie caught up with her, “Hey, Lady, I didn’t mean to piss you off. I’ve come to haul the scrap metal away.”

  It was then that Katherine realized two pickup trucks were parked in back. Two other tough-looking men sat inside one. She said cautiously to Stevie, “I don’t own this house. You’ll have to talk to Mark Dunn.”

  “No need to bring a lawyer in it,” he said indifferently. “Can I talk to the old lady that lives here?”

  “My great aunt Orvenia passed away last winter.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. She gave me a note,” he said, tugging a torn piece of paper from his denim pocket. “She gave me the metal in exchange for putting on a new roof. I had to do some work … some time for the state, so I wasn’t able to git here right away.”

  Katherine made the connection between the word “state” and prison. She looked at the note. From seeing her great aunt’s signature on various documents, she could confirm it was her handwriting.

  Katherine shook her head. “I can’t help you here. I don’t have the authority to allow anything to be removed from this carriage house. Let me call Mark Dunn.”

  “We don’t want any trouble, ma’am,” Stevie said with narrowed eyes. “We came to git what belongs to us.”

  Katherine extracted her phone and called Mark Dunn. He wasn’t in his office, so she left an urgent voice mail.

  “As you could hear,” she began. “I called Mark. He’s the lawyer for my great aunt’s estate. If you’d give me your number, I’ll have him call you.”

  Bobby continued his nervous cackling, which now sounded like a hyena.

  Stevie threw Katherine a menacing look and stormed to his truck, with Bobby close behind. The other truck pulled out first, and then Stevie peeled out. He yelled out the window, “We’ll be back!”

  Great, Katherine thought. Nothing like alienating the Sanders family any more than I’ve already done.

  Chapter Four

  Katherine arrived at the Indianapolis airport and parked in the cell phone lot. Within a few seconds, Colleen called and said her flight had arrived early, and she’d already picked up her bags. Katherine couldn’t believe her good timing. She started up the engine, headed back onto the service road, and drove to the airline’s arrival area. Colleen was waiting outside near the curb; her long red hair enveloped her face. It was a typical blustery fall day. Katherine temporarily parked the Subaru and got out to help Colleen with her bags.

  “Katz,” Colleen said. “Give me a hug. It is so wonderful to see you.”

  Katherine hugged her back. “You look great. Where’s Jacky?” she asked, looking around.

  “Jacky couldn’t come. There was some last-minute emergency. His super was in a motorcycle accident and broke his arm. Jacky will have to do double-duty. He’s really disappointed.”

  “Oh, no. I so much wanted him to come!”

  “Maybe he can change his ticket and come out later when his boss is better.”

  “Let me help you with your bags,” Katherine said, opening the back hatch.

  “Wow, now this is a vehicle,” Colleen praised. “It’s certainly a far cry better than the ancient Toyota.”

  Katherine laughed. “I miss that car. But I love this one, though. Jake named her Sue-bee. Indiana gu
ys have a thing with naming things.”

  Colleen smirked. “That’s rich.”

  Katherine and Colleen both picked up Colleen’s large suitcase and hoisted it in the back.

  “It’s a bit heavy,” Colleen apologized.

  “You think?” Katherine teased.

  “I brought my spirit hunting equipment. Well, not all of it. I didn’t want to chance the more expensive stuff getting broken,” she said tongue-in-cheek, referring to her ghost meter, which was destroyed by Frank and Beatrice Baker when they vandalized her room during her last visit.

  Katherine closed the hatch. Colleen got in and Katherine climbed in behind the wheel.

  “Are you hungry? We could stop to get a bite to eat.” Katherine checked the mirror, then merged into traffic.

  “I’m famished,” Colleen complained.

  “Remember that restaurant we went to in Ohio – Down Home Cookin’? There’s one several miles from here.”

  “I love that place! Yes, by all means.”

  On the way to the restaurant, Colleen talked about her cab drive from Manhattan to LaGuardia. “‘Twas a nightmare to behold,” she began. “The cabby kept looking at me in his mirror. I screamed several times, or we’d all be killed.”

  Arriving at the restaurant, Katherine lamented that most of the parking spaces were taken, but found one behind the back dumpster. “I have rotten luck with parking spaces.”

  The two friends walked in and a friendly hostess seated them in front of a blazing fireplace. They both chose the special with sweetened ice tea.

  Colleen asked, “Tell me about the party? I can’t wait.”

  Katherine filled her in while they waited for their food. “I hired a party planner. For Halloween parties, she uses a Russian act from Brighton Beach. Supposedly, they’re originally from Moscow. The fortune teller does various readings, and the magician does close-up magic.”

  “Brighton Beach, Brooklyn? No way. That’s really close to where you grew up. What are they doing out here?”

  Katherine shrugged, then continued, “When the guests arrive, we’ll have cocktails and hors d’oeuvres, then sit down in the formal dining room for dinner. The Erie Hotel is catering it.”