Karen Anne Golden - The Cats That 03 - The Cats That Told a Fortune (6 page)

“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 an
d 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 open
ed 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 cer
amic 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 gr
eat 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 guys 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.”

“
The mention of that hotel always makes me remember poppy seeds, Patricia and poison,” Colleen spitted with a wry smile.

Katherine didn’t comment, but said, “After dinner, we’ll gather in the attic for a séance or game of Ouija board.”

“Not so keen on the Ouija board, Katz,” Colleen said seriously.

“Why?” Katherine asked, surprised.

“You could easily conjure up a bad spirit.  My paranormal group doesn’t recommend it.  The Ouija board opens up a portal and evil can get in.”

“But it’s just for fun.”

“Not a good idea, trust me.  Would your party planner get into a snit if I offered a suggestion?”

“I’m paying her, so it’s my call,” Katherine said.

“We could decorate the attic with spooky stuff, then go up for a spirit hunting session.  I have my EMF meter, which you’re familiar with.”

“The needle flips to red when there’s a ghost,” Katherine remembered.

“Uh-huh.  I also brought a digital voice recorder to record EVP
s
 . . 
.
”

“What’s that?” Katherine asked. 

“EVP is short for ‘Electronic Voice Phenomena,’ which records spirit voices not audible to the human ear.”

“Oh, that’s creepy as hell.  I’d move out of the house if it picked up my great aunt or bootlegging great uncle
complaining about something,” Katherine announced.

“I also brought my pen-style digital infrared thermometer.  It checks for cold spots in the house.”

“Last winter just about every part of the house had a cold spot,” Katherine joked.

“You said last spring you had a
paranormal encounter with cold air wafting by you.  The thermometer would pick that up.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that’s the room you’ll be staying in.  You don’t mind sharing it with a ghost, do you?”  Katherine said facetiously. 

“Cool,” Colleen said with a grin.

“Oh, and by the way, you’ve really become sophisticated with this, Colleen.  I’m impressed, but I’m having second thoughts about the attic ghost hunting idea.  Can I take that idea under advisement?”

“You sound like Mark Dunn.”

“I think it’s in bad taste so soon after several people were murdered in my house.  I don’t want the Erie folk’s tongues a-
flappin.’”

“Tongues a-
flappin’?  You’re starting to talk like the natives.”

“The natives in Indiana are called Hoosiers,” Katherine kidded.

The server brought over their country fried chicken dinner with white gravy, along with mashed potatoes, green beans, and coleslaw.  She set down two tall glasses of sweetened iced tea.

“Oh, I love their food,” Colleen said, diving in. “Tell me more about Jake.  I know he looks like Johnny Depp, h
e loves cats, and they love him too.  You said he’s polite, sweet, carin
g
 . . 
.
But what are you
not
telling me, girlfriend to girlfriend?”

Katherine put her fork down and sighed, “He’s so wonderful. I’m just waiting for him to mess up.”

“Like Mario did,” Colleen said icily.  “You’d think he’d at least text and let me know he got to Italy okay.  I haven’t heard one word from him.  He doesn’t return my emails.  He hasn’t called me.  He dumped me – plain and simple!”

“Did you have a clue he was going to quit his job and move to Italy?”  Katherine asked sympathetically.

“Woman’s intuition, I guess,” Colleen answered.  “Mario always had a roving eye.  I mean, when we’d go out to dinner, I’d try my best to look gorgeous for him, but I’d catch him looking at other women.  If a server was good looking, he’d chat her up.  It made me livid.”

“Gary did the same, but he was a serial cheater.  I knew Mario as the polite doorman, so I never knew how he acted outside the job.  When I was there St. Patrick’s Day, I noticed he was somewhat aloof, but I just assumed he was in a mood.”

“So, Katz, I’m moving on.  I had my crying spell, and now I’m ready to start again.”

“Hear! Hear!” Katherine said, raising her iced tea glass for a toast. “May Colleen find the man of her
dreams.”

Colleen said with a gr
in, “May Katz find the perfect man who isn’t allergic to cats.” 

“You’ll meet Jake this evening.
”  Katherine winked.  “He’s taking us to a fish fry.  Covered Bridge Festival, which you missed, is in its final death throes of killing everyone with pumpkins.  Jake said the fish fry is the last event and is being held at the Erie fire station.”

“Did you say ‘fire station’?” Colleen asked, suddenly perking up to the idea of meeting a handsome fireman.

Katherine read her friend’s mind, “I’m sure at least one of the firemen will pass your inspection.  Jake’s going to pick us up at six.”

“Perfect! 
Can’t wait to meet him.  Have you met his parents yet?”  Colleen asked, in-between bites of green beans.

Katherine made a face.  “Ah, I met them yesterday at
Millbridge.  It was at one of the Covered Bridge Festivals; Jake took me.”

“Let me guess.  Dad looks like Johnny Depp senior, and mom looks like a movie star.”

Katherine grimaced.  “Yes, Jake’s dad did look like Johnny Depp senior, but mom was a different story.  Envision a pinched-faced plain Jane.  Also, one that’s as friendly as a rattlesnake.”

“Shut the door! 
No way!” Colleen said, shocked.

“Way,
” Katherine answered.  “She gave me the cold shoulder for reasons unexplained.”

“Strange.  You’re so bubbly.  Why would she do that?”

Katherine shook her head.  “Maybe she thinks I’m a gold digger, after her son’s money.”

Colleen cleared her throat dramatically and reminded,
“
You’re
the one getting the big bucks.”

“Or maybe she thinks
Jake’s seeing me too soon after his wife died.  I’m committing some kind of Erie taboo by dating her son.”

“Wow, Katz.  You might have something there.  Hasn’t it been a year?” Colleen asked.

“Yes,” Katherine answered.

“Maybe Jake’s mom doesn’t think that’s long enough.”

“I’m not going to worry about it,” Katherine said.  “How about we settle up and hit the road?  I’ve got an appointment later with the party planner.”

*
              *              *

When Katherine and Colleen drove up in front of the pink mansion, the driveway was bloc
ked by a large Four Winds motorhome with a New York license plate:
13 Magic
. 

Colleen chuckled, “Must be the magician.”

“Yes, a magic man who doesn’t know how to park,” Katherine complained.  A red Mini Cooper was parked in front of the motorhome.  “That must be the party planner, but they’re early.” She pulled the Subaru in front of the Mini, turned off the ignition, and hopped out.  A woman in her late forties with pancake makeup, fake eyelashes, and a crop of short purple hair met her on the sidewalk.  The passenger – a heavy-set woman with red hennaed hair – climbed out after her.  Colleen began collecting her luggage to take inside.

“Are you Katherine Kendall?” the purple-haired woman asked.

Katherine smiled.  “Are you Mary?”

“Yes, I’m so glad to meet you.  I’m so sorry we’re early, but Misha, the magician, got the time confused.  He called me from the road, so I picked up Bella and practically flew to Erie.”

A short, stocky man with wavy black hair and a large mustache, dressed in a black leather jacket, red sateen shirt and blue jeans, climbed out of the motorhome.  He hurried over to the women and spoke in a sultry Russian accent, “Are you Carol?” he asked Katherine.

“My name is Katherine.  You can call me Katz.”

He ceremoniously took Katherine’s hand and kissed it.  Katherine quickly withdrew her hand for fear of what else the man might do.  “Katsee, my name is Misha,” he said.

“Pleased to meet you.”

“Katz, this is Bella,” Mary introduced.  “Bella and Misha are originally from Moscow, but moved to Brooklyn several years ago.”

Bella smiled, revealing a set of gold-capped teeth.  “Da,
Katsee, we much like you house.”  Her accent was thicker than the magician’s.

When Colleen got out, Misha ran over to her side of the car, but Colleen dodged him with her carry-on bag.  “Katz, I’m going in,” she announced.  “Can you lock the car?  We can come back later for the suitcase.”

“Nyet!” Misha said to Colleen, eyeing her up and down. “I carry.”

“Okay,” Colleen said.  She whispered to Katherine, who was standing close by.  “Is he a dead
ringer for Boris Badenov, or what? 
You
know, ‘Moose and Squirrel.’”

“Stop it.  He’ll hear you,” Katherine whispered, amused.  She opened the Subaru hatch and Misha hoisted the heavy suitcase out. 

Katherine guided the group to the front porch and opened the door.  “Please come in,” she said.  Colleen made a dash for the back of the house.  “Let’s sit in the parlor.”  Katherine pointed the way.  Katherine, Bella and Mary sat down, but Misha remained standing. 

Mary said, “We’ll go over the plan for the party – a quick overview.  Bella, would you like to start?”

Bella was too preoccupied to answer.  She was staring with eyes wide open at the two felines sitting on top of the wood window valance.  “I h-h-hate kats,” she slurred, then sneezed.