The Cats that Played the Market (The Cats that . . . Cozy Mystery Book 4) (11 page)

“What time was this?” Margie asked.

“Around eleven.”

“Why did you have the kids up so late, and then leave them to go get a pizza? It makes no sense.”

“We were watching a DVD and the kids got hungry. When I first got to the museum, this woman nearly knocked me down running out the door — ”

“What woman?”

“Will you let me finish? What’s her name? Emily something. Then the principal’s husband — I think his name is Nick — came out of the utility room. I asked him to give you your cell phone. He looked like he’d just seen a ghost, and was really nervous. He took the phone and walked to the front of the museum. I got suspicious and went inside the room and found Robbie slumped on a stool.”

“What was the principal’s husband doing in that room?” Margie asked.

“Beats the hell out of me,” Cokey said, throwing up his hands. “But when I tried to help Robbie, a butcher knife fell out of his neck. The blade must have grazed my hand because I started bleeding. When I reached in my pocket for my phone to call 911, Julie Miller ran in and started accusing me of murdering Robbie. I panicked and got the hell out of there. Now the damn knife has my prints on it, and I’m going to be framed for killing Robbie.”

“But you didn’t do it,” Margie implored. “You’ve got to tell the chief that. Why didn’t you just explain to Julie what happened?”

“She was hysterical and wouldn’t stop screaming. Margaret, I have that misdemeanor conviction on my record. I don’t want to go to prison,” Cokey said.

Katherine gave Jake a curious side glance. Jake shook his head and mouthed the words, “I’ll tell you later.”

They heard the sound of police sirens coming down Alexander Street. Two Erie cruisers pulled in front.

Tommy, still holding the orange cat, was standing by the window and shouted, “Dad, there’s a whole bunch of cops out there.”

“I’ll get the door,” Cokey said, coming down the hall with Margie by his side. “It’s okay, son. Get your sister and take her and Spitfire to your room.”

Tommy ignored the request and opened the door. Chief London walked in. He was flanked by several officers.

Shelly began wailing again. “Daddy’s hurt,” she cried. Katherine moved over and put her arm around her. She led Shelly down the hall, then motioned for Tommy to come, too. Spitfire struggled to get down, but Tommy held him tight.

Chief London cuffed Cokey and then read him the Miranda warning.

Margie said, horrified, “Chief, what’s this about?”

The chief answered, “We’re arresting Cokey for the murder of Robbie Brentwood. We have an eye witness who saw Cokey leaving the scene of the crime with blood dripping from his hand.”

Margie protested, “He didn’t do it!”

Katherine returned to the room and gasped, “Chief, he didn’t do it. Cokey just explained what happened.” Then she remembered overhearing Cokey threaten Robbie at the mansion during the tea.

The officers took Cokey by the arms and led him outside. Cokey called back to Margie, “Get me a good criminal lawyer. I love you.”

Chief London stayed behind. “I want to talk to the three of you. According to Detective Martin, you left the scene when Robbie’s body was found. What was the hurry?”

Margie sat down on a chair and began to cry. She then calmed herself and said, “Chief, everyone in this town could be a suspect.”

“How’s that?” the chief asked.

“Because everyone had a beef with Robbie Brentwood. For starters, I’ll give you some suspects. How about Nick Miller? He threatened to kill Robbie if he didn’t leave his wife alone. How about the girlfriend, Emily? I heard her fighting with Robbie at the museum a few hours before the opening. Want me to keep goin’?” Margie said angrily.

“Be my guest,” the chief said, irritated.

“What about me?” Margie continued.

Jake intervened, “Aunt Margie, the chief is just trying to get the facts.”

The chief said, “You may be the last person to see Robbie alive. Why were you at the museum?”

“I’m a volunteer. After the holiday fundraiser at the armory, I stopped by to drop off some flyers for the door greeters to pass out when the guests arrived. Emily was shouting at Robbie —”

“Who’s Emily?”

“She’s the museum’s graphic artist. She was hanging posters on the wall. When she heard Robbie’s voice in the back room —”

“The utility room?”

“No, the kitchen. When she went back there, they started yelling at each other. They got into a big argument.”

“What were they arguing about?”

“I don’t know. I could hear their tone but not their words. When I looked out the window, Julie Miller was running to her car. Chief, Julie was having an affair with Robbie.”

Katherine, who had been quiet, added, “Chief, maybe Emily caught Robbie and Julie in a compromising position and freaked out. She told me a few days ago when she came over to my house that Robbie was going to announce their engagement at the opening. Maybe she should be a person of interest.” She remembered the fang-marked card from Emily, but didn’t want to mention the cats’ involvement, if there was an involvement. Just a clue, perhaps. A big one.

The chief said to Margie, “Anything else you want to tell me?”

Margie shook her head. “My husband didn’t do it. He’s the fall guy because everyone knows Cokey has a temper, and that Patricia Marston business.”

The chief scratched his beard, “What about you, Jake? Why did you flee the scene?”

Jake shrugged his shoulders and said nonchalantly, “Because the ladies wanted to go home and I’m the driver.”

“Okay, that’s all I need to hear . . . for right now. I’m sure Detective Martin will want to talk to you, but not tonight. We’ve got our hands full with this mess.”

As the chief moved to the door, Margie got up and asked, “Where will Cokey be?”

“Holding cell down at the jail. Don’t fret, Ma’am. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” He tipped his hat and left.

When the chief was out of earshot, Jake said, “Aunt Margie, I’m calling Dad. Let’s get him over here to talk about what we should do.”

Margie choked back a sob and said, “I need the kids to go to their grandparents’ house.”

“I’ll call them,” Jake said, leaving the room. He walked outside and stood on the porch to use his cell. Katherine stayed with Margie and tried to console her. When Jake returned, he said, “Okay, Dad’s on his way. Mom’s coming over to take the kids to Grandpa Cokenberger’s.”

Margie nodded thanks and then said to Katherine, “Katz, go home, kiddo. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“But Margie, are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Katherine asked, genuinely concerned.

“No,” Margie said, shaking her head. Tears had reformed in her eyes. “I’ll be okay.”

Jake said to Katherine, “I’ll take you home.”

“Okay, Margie, but if you need me for anything, just call.”

Jake escorted Katherine out of the house and back into the car. On the way to the pink mansion, he reached over and held her hand. “Cokey’s been in trouble with the law before.”

“What was that about a misdemeanor?”

“It’s been a million years ago. I guess these kind of things come back to haunt you.”

“What kind of things?” Katherine asked adamantly, wanting him to just tell her.

“When he was dating Patricia Marston, the two of them were involved in a minor car wreck. Patricia was acting weird, so the officer searched the car and found marijuana. Cokey didn’t want her to get arrested, because she had a former conviction. So he took the fall for her. He pled guilty and got probation and some sort of conditional release, with no jail time. But I guess there’s still a permanent record. That’s when he broke off the engagement to Patricia.”

“It’s all starting to gel,” Katherine said, then added, “But, why would Cokey have an affair with Patricia with this thing hanging over his head?”

Jake just shook his head. He climbed out of the car and walked over to the passenger side. Katherine had already opened the door and was getting out. She said, “Call or text me as soon as you learn anything.”

Jake held her in a quick embrace. “Sure thing, sweet pea.”

They quietly walked to the front of the house. Scout and Abra were sitting inside the parlor window, watching the couple curiously. Katherine turned the key in the lock and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jake nodded and turned to leave. Katherine went inside to find three cats waiting for her. Scout and Abra didn’t waste time joining them. Taking Jake’s suit jacket off, which she’d forgotten to return, she hung it on the Eastlake hall tree. She sat down on the floor and asked, “How about a group hug?” The cats looked at her inquisitively, but didn’t move in for the ‘hug.’ She knew they had special ‘sleuth’ abilities, but wasn’t quite sure how and why they did the things they did. “My treasures, I’m leaving my computer on. Google me a clue as to who killed Robbie Brentwood.” She said it out of jest more than anything else.

Scout gave her a long, hard look and then trotted to the office. “Waugh,” she cried. The other cats took off and followed her.

Katherine got up with an amazed look on her face.
That was strange
, she thought.
I think I’ll faint if I go to my office and find one of them surfing the web.

She kicked off her Gucci pumps and walked in her bare feet to the office, a little bit afraid of what she’d see, but instead found the cats in the kitchen, hovering over their empty food bowls.

“Fakers! You just want a bedtime snack.”

“Ma-waugh,” Scout agreed.

She removed the kibble jar and scooped out food for each cat. Turning out the kitchen light, she said, “Bon appétit!”

*              *              *

The next morning, Colleen and Katherine were sitting at the kitchen table when Mrs. Murphy walked in.

“Top of the mornin’,” she said in her heavy Irish brogue, then laughed.

Katherine got up. “Sit here. I’ll get you some tea or coffee. I just made a pot of hazelnut.”

Mrs. Murphy sat down. “Never had hazelnut. I’d love a cup. I hope you slept well,” she said to Katherine, completely oblivious to what had transpired the night before.

The morning
Erie Herald
lay flat on the table, its front page covered with photos of the fundraiser, museum event, and a large picture of the late financial advisor/curator/cake auctioneer.

“What’s happenin’ in the paper?” Mrs. Murphy asked, picking it up. An expression of shock came over her face. “Robbie Brentwood is dead? Murdered? His mother must be beside herself with grief.”

“It was a grave ending to an otherwise gala museum opening. The police are still trying to piece together what happened,” Katherine said, pouring the coffee and handing her the cup.

Colleen passed the cream and sugar. Mrs. Murphy reached in her robe pocket for her flask, but then put it away. Colleen looked relieved.

Katherine proceeded to fill Mum in on the events at the museum, including Cokey’s arrest. She’d already discussed the situation with Colleen.

Colleen said, “Katz, you need to write a book. This place is like an American horror story. Something sinister is always happening.”

“And usually it involves you, Miss Katz,” Mrs. Murphy said candidly. “I worry about you livin’ here alone.”

“At least this time, the murder wasn’t at the mansion.”

Colleen glanced at the paper. “I love the photo Mr. Hunk took of Jake holding Lilac. That is
so precious
. But what’s this?” Colleen hesitated. “Anonymous donor gives one hundred thousand dollars to the Erie Food Bank.” Colleen looked up from the paper at Katherine, who was smiling.

“It was the price I had to pay for Lilac’s demolition,” she chuckled. “Actually, I made the donation a few days ago. I kind of like the idea of being anonymous for future donations, as well.”

Colleen fidgeted with her spoon. “Katz, Mum and I have something to tell you.”

“What?” Katherine asked with concern. “Judging by your change in facial expression, should I expect doom-and-gloom?”

“No,” Colleen said with a serious look. “You start, Mum.”

Mrs. Murphy put two sugar cubes in her coffee. “Katz, I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about this business with my building goin’ condo. I don’t want to buy my apartment, so I’m goin’ to have to move —”

Katherine said happily. “Yay! Are you moving here?”

There was an uncomfortable pause, and then Mrs. Murphy shook her head. “No, I’m not movin’ to Indiana, but if it’s okay with you, I want to move into your apartment in Manhattan and live with my son, Jacky.”

“That’s okay, but there’s only two bedrooms. Where are you going to sleep?”

Colleen broke in, “Remember at your Halloween party how that Russian fortune teller said I’d make a long-distance move? I thought she meant I was moving to Italy to join Mario, but in reality, she predicted I was moving to Indiana to be with Daryl. Katz, I’m moving out here.”

“What?” Katherine asked, surprised. She clapped her hands. “Should I jump up and down?”