The Cats that Stole a Million (The Cats that . . . Cozy Mystery Book 7) (7 page)

Iris didn’t want to let go of her prize and continued clutching it in her jaw.  “Let go,” Katherine pleaded.  Iris clenched her jaw even tighter.

Abby found her opportunity and fished the chief’s cell out of his pocket.  She was half-way off the chair with it clutched in her jaw when Katherine saw her.  “Abby, give it back.”  The chief turned in his seat to stare into the eyes of the ruddy-colored thief. Abby lowered her head, dropped the phone and cried demurely, “Chirp.”  Then with one hard whack of her paw, she batted it to the floor. 

Finally, Iris let go of the necklace, and yowled sweetly.  “Thank you, Miss Siam,” Katherine said affectionately.  “Chief, was the necklace in your pocket, your jacket pocket, or in that bag you brought in?”

He retrieved his cell and laughed.  “I brought it in the shopping bag.  Your cats are pretty darn smart, but speaking as a lawman, I suggest you never take them into a store.”

Katherine giggled.  “After Lilac destroyed the cakes at the bake sale, I doubt I’ll ever take my cats to another public place.  Thank you so much for returning it.  I thought I’d never see it again.”

The chief looked at his watch.  “Gotta get goin’.”

“Me, too,” Margie seconded, “but first I want another chocolate.” 

“Have two or three,” Katherine suggested.

Margie hung around until the chief left.  “Listen kiddo, when you’re buying furniture, order a bedroom set for a young girl about thirteen-years-old.”

“Why?” Katherine asked, wondering what else Margie knew about Stevie Sanders.

“He has a daughter.  I didn’t want to say it in front of the chief because he probably thinks I’m a busybody, but with Darlene dead, Stevie will have custody.  In fact, I heard he didn’t go to Kentucky to check on his ex-wife.  He drove down to get his daughter.”

“Wow.  I didn’t have a clue. Why hasn’t anyone told me before?”

“Mayhaps, it never came up in conversation?”

Katherine didn’t answer, but thought,
Why hasn’t Jake told me about it?  Did he know?
  Then shifted the subject, “I wouldn’t have a clue what to buy a girl of thirteen.  Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure,” Margie said, popping another chocolate in her mouth.

“Can you go to the furniture website and get Shelly’s opinion?  She’s close in age to Stevie’s daughter.  Maybe Shelly can come up with something a teen would like.”

“Gotcha,” Margie said, walking out the door. 

“See ya,” Katherine said, borrowing one of the sayings Jake used. 

*     *     *

After the committee disbanded and Margie left, Katherine walked into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.  As she filled the kettle, the doorbell blared its angry alarm. “One of them must have forgotten something,” she surmised out loud. “Dewey,” she called.  “It’s okay.” 

The kitten was en route to the kitchen, did a dead stop, and then sprung for Katherine’s desk.  Landing on the keyboard, he quickly caught his balance and sprung off, leaving the keyboard dangling precariously over the edge. 

Katherine righted the keyboard and mouse, then was curious about what was displayed on the computer screen:  a sparkling diamond glistened on the display. 
I know Jake couldn’t have surfed this up
, she thought
. I’ve got enough jewelry from Jake to last me a lifetime. But why would the cats?

The doorbell sounded again. 

“All right, already,” she called, annoyed.  Walking through the living room, she discovered Dewey had catapulted off the coffee table and knocked down the box of chocolates.  Various-sized confections were strewn across the floor.  Katherine knew chocolate wasn’t good for cats, so she closed the pocket door behind her. She’d clean up the mess later.

“I’ll be right there,” she said loudly to the front door, in an effort to make the person outside stop ringing the bell.  Rushing to answer, she stopped to peek out the sidelight. She didn’t recognize the woman, who wore a full-length mink coat.  Wisps of blond hair stuck out from her matching fur hat.  She rang again.

“May I help you?” Katherine said through the glassed sidelight.

“Katz, is that you? It’s me, Madison.  Let me in.  I’m turning blue.”

Katherine hurriedly opened the door.  “Madison?” she said in a surprised voice.  “What on earth are you doing here?  Come in, before you freeze to death.”

The two childhood friends hugged, then Katherine asked, “Is that your car?”

“Yes, why?  Did you think Santa and his reindeers brought me here?” she quipped.

Katherine was still in shock.  “You drove by yourself from Manhattan to Indiana in this storm?”

“No, Dummy, I drove it from Indianapolis.  I’m on my way to Chicago.”

For a moment Katherine was caught off-guard, then she remembered her old friend called her “Dummy,” while Katherine called her friend “Rummy.”

“Okay, Rummy.” 

The seven cats stood at a distance, oddly standing in a row like soldiers, looking at the woman with feline curiosity.  They eyed the coat and hat even more.  Abra licked her lips. “Raw.”

“Oh,” Madison jumped back, suddenly very agitated.  “What are those?”

“My cats.  What’s wrong?”

“No, the two in front.  They don’t look like any cats I’ve ever seen.”

“Madison, they’re my Siamese.  Scout and Abra.”

“Dummy, I can’t come in until you . . . you . . . ,” she stuttered.  “Put them up.”

“They won’t hurt you,” Katherine reassured.  “They’re just being curious, but if you want me to, I’ll take them upstairs.”  Before she had time to herd cats, Scout cried a loud “waugh,” and most of the other cats followed her up the stairs.  Iris hid behind the Eastlake hall tree, while Abby tried to blend in next to the oak table nearby. Katherine was too distracted to notice them.

“I must apologize, Katz.  Colleen’s mom told me you had cats, but I didn’t know you had . . . so many.”

“Come in the parlor and sit down.”

Still standing in the same spot, Madison said, “La-di-da.  A ‘parlor,’ she says.”

“It’s in here,” Katherine directed.  “Do you want something to eat or drink?  I can fix you something.”

“No, I’d rather sit for a while.”  Sitting down close to the window, Madison said, “The cats gave me a scare, especially those two tall, skinny ones.  I must be going crazy, but I swear their eyes were red.”

“Sometimes if the lighting is just right, Siamese eyes will appear to be red, but trust me, there isn’t anything scary about them.  They’re the sweetest cats.  Let me take your coat.”

“No, I’ll hold on to it for a while.  I’m chilled to the bone.”  She placed her Chanel tote bag on her lap and began rummaging through it, then put the bag on the floor next to her chair.

“I better go upstairs and shut the cat’s playroom or else they’ll come back down here.  I know you’re not a cat person, but cats instinctively gravitate to the person who either doesn’t like cats, or is afraid of them.  It’s their nature.”

“Whatever,” Madison said dismissively.

Katherine left the room and thought how strange it was that a friend she hadn’t seen since high school graduation was now in Indiana, sitting in her parlor.  Before shutting the cats’ door, she did a head count. Two were missing. 

“Oh, great,” she lamented.  “I hope they’re not in the room freaking out Madison.”  Hurrying back downstairs, she found her friend madly texting someone. Katherine waited until she was finished, then said, “You look great.  We need to do a major catch-up.  Are you still modeling?”

“I was, but I’m twenty-eight now, and there are younger models out there taking the jobs.  That’s one of the reasons why I’m headed for Chicago. I have a gig there, and then I’m flying back to NYC.”

“Colleen said that you were temping.”

“Yes, believe it or not,” Madison laughed.  “Can you imagine?  I regret not going to business school after I graduated.  I wish I had better computer skills.  I’ve been doing reception jobs.”

“Really?” Katherine asked. “In Brooklyn or Manhattan?”

“Mid-town Manhattan.  Sometimes the job lasts six weeks, if I’m lucky, or a few days.  Lately, I’ve been working on 47th Street.”

“That’s not far from where I used to work on Fifth Avenue.”

“Cool, but I don’t want to bore you with me. Colleen’s mom said you inherited big bucks, and a mansion. Plus, you married a hunk.”

“Are you married?  Engaged?  Dating?” Katherine inquired in an effort to divert the mention of inheritance.

“None of the above.  Single and free, that’s me.”

“So, if your modeling job is in Chicago, how did you end up at my door in a snow storm?”

Madison shifted nervously in her seat, then began.  “Because of this wretched weather, my plane was rerouted to Indianapolis.  I didn’t have a clue when the next flight would be.  You know me.  I hate to wait, so I rented that piece of junk out there, and drove.  Thank God for GPS or I’d never have found this place.”

“You brought your GPS,” Katherine asked in want of something better to say.

“No, Dummy, it’s built into the car.”

“Yes, I know, I have one in my new Subaru,” Katherine said, not liking being called
dummy
as an adult.  It was funny at age ten, but not so much now.

“A Subaru?  Why aren’t you driving a Mercedes or a Bentley?”

Katherine answered with an observation, in an attempt to once again steer the conversation away from material things.  “Your blond hair looks nice with your blue eyes.”

Madison laughed.  “I’ve been a blonde for years.”

“I’m trying to remember the last time I saw you.  Was it our high school —”

“Graduation,” Madison finished.  “Remember when I walked up to get my diploma, and my sleeve caught on the hand rail.  I tripped going up the steps and fell into the arms of the principal.”

Katherine laughed at the memory.  “That’s not as bad as me tripping down the steps.”

Madison looked at her watch. “How far is Chicago from here?”

“It’s about a two-hour drive, but in this weather, it will take you longer. Jake is in Chicago this weekend. He drove up yesterday.”

“Who’s Jake?  Is that your husband?”

“Yes, Jake Cokenberger.”

Madison brought her hand up to stifle a laugh.  “Coke and burger. Hee hee!  That’s funny,” she said sarcastically.

“Cokenberger,” Katherine said, enunciating each syllable.  She was taken aback by her old friend’s abruptness.

“What’s he doing in Chicago?” Madison asked.

“He’s delivering a paper — ”

“You married a truck driver?  I guess it doesn’t really matter these days.  When you’re a millionaire you can marry just about anybody.”

“Jake doesn’t deliver paper.  He’s a history professor.”  Normally, Katherine would have gone into more detail about what Jake did for a living because she was very proud of him, but Madison’s condescending manner put her off.  She cautiously continued.  “Besides, Madison, what’s wrong with being a truck driver?  They help put food on the table.”

“Is he a redneck?” Madison asked, getting up and walking over to the parlor window.  She moved the lace panel and looked out.  “Dumb as a rock, but good in bed?”

Katherine’s face reddened.  “Madison, really?  My husband is
not
a redneck. People in this part of the globe do not take kindly to being called a redneck.”

“Oh, don’t get all fired up.  That’s something I specifically remember about you.  You overreact at
everything
!” She said the last word with exaggerated emphasis.

Katherine struggled not to reach over and pinch her friend, like she used to when they were in elementary school.  Back in the day, when they wore matching plaid skirts with crisp white blouses, their moms ironed laboriously.  Calming herself, she broached another topic.  “I’m surprised you wear fur.”

“Why?” Madison asked defensively.

“Because I distinctly remember you didn’t approve of people who did.”

“That’s when I was poor.  Now it’s a different story.”

“You were never poor.”

“Yes, I was.  Have you forgotten?  You came from a poor home, too.”

“No, I didn’t.  My parents did okay.”

“Well, whatever,” Madison said with a wave of her well-manicured hand.  “Judging from what Colleen’s mom said, you’re living the life of Riley.”

Katherine became quiet, and wondered how she could get rid of this woman who seemed to have been invaded by a body snatcher.  She couldn’t believe this was her sweet little friend from next door, who spent hours at her house, cutting out paper dolls, or just sitting on the townhouse stoop watching people walk by. 
I wonder what happened in Madison’s life to make her so cynical
, Katherine wondered.

Still looking out the window, Madison asked, “Who do you know that drives a pickup truck?”

“In this town, practically everyone drives one.”

“Ooh, la la!  A tall, handsome man just got out.  Katz, he’s walking up the front walk.”

Katherine rose from her chair, and wondered who it was.  She moved to open the door before the man sounded the dreaded doorbell.  “Stevie?” she asked, surprised.