Karen Anne Golden - The Cats That 02 - The Cats that Chased the Storm (7 page)

“The State Police are sending up their CSI unit. I’d expect we should have an answer soon,” Chief London said. Then to Katherine, “Lead the way.”

Katherine cautiously stepped into the mechanical room. She played her flashlight beam back and forth and was happy the water heater and furnace appeared to be okay. In the next room, where she was hit with flying debris, she could see bricks scattered on the concrete floor and what appeared to be broken bottles.

The chief reached down and picked one up. “I haven’t seen one of these in years.” The bottle was pint-sized, and lavender in color.

Katherine observed more lying on the floor.
One of those is probably what hit me in the head
, she thought. “I’ve never seen them before.”

“You find these in antique stores,” the chief
commented, examining the bottle. He then shone his light on the broken brick wall and the jagged hole. “Maybe they got sucked or blown in from here. A little gift from the tornado,” he said, tongue-in-cheek. “Don’t see a skull though.”

Katherine hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward. “It’s right there.”

The chief crouched down, but didn’t touch anything. “I see it now. Definitely human. Looks like it’s been down here for a while.”

“How long?” Katherine asked.

“Not a clue. We’ll let the State Police figure it out. Oh, lookie here. Cat tracks. Lots of them,” the chief said, taking a photo with his smartphone.

Katherine assumed her best poker face and
said, “Two of my cats were loose and one was in a carrier.”

The chief glared at Katherine for a moment. “That’s all I need to see,” he announced, standing up. “Let’s go back up and I’ll explain to you what’s going to happen.”

Upstairs and inside the office door, the chief spoke. “The CSI unit will be here any moment. Erie police will be working closely with them. I’m betting a tent will be put up outside the collapsed wall. It might rain later so they’ll want to protect the scene. Right now I’m going to cordon off the area with yellow tape.”

“Crime scene tape?” she asked.

“Not sayin’ it’s a murder or not until the team lets me know. If I need you, I’ll call you on your cell,” he said.

“I’m working in the attic for the rest of the afternoon.”

“Surely you don’t plan on staying here.”

“Cokey said it’s not safe to live here, but I can come and go as long as I avoid certain areas.”

“I’ve got one more question. Mark Dunn said Carol Lombard was with you a few minutes before she died. What was her mood?”

“I don’t understand,” Katherine said, confused.

“Was she happy? Sad? Tense? Seem afraid of anything?”

“She was happy about her new car.”

The chief said, “It’s a shame. Carol was a good gal. I’ve known her for a long time.  Mark said she picked up some boxes for the historical society. I didn’t find them in her car. Was there anything in there of value? Something someone would want enough to kill for?”

“No,” Katherine shook her head. “My great aunt kept everything. Newspaper articles. Recipes. Letters from friends. Christmas cards. Bills. Old magazines. I don’t know what to keep or what to throw out. Mark said keep things of historical significance. In fact one of the boxes I gave Carol was a box of
TV Guides
dating back to the sixties. I thought they were cool, but who would want them?”

“Okay, good to know. When you leave, lock the doors, but leave the lower basement entrance unlocked. Don’t want any looky-loos coming in.”

“What’s a looky-loo?” Katherine asked.

“Nosey Erie folk wanting to see the damage. Don’t worry none. Trust me. The State Police will watch this house like a hawk,” the chief said, then left.

Katherine sighed in relief. She mentally patted herself on the back about how she evaded the issue of the cat tracks near the skull.  She protected her cats the way a mama bear protects her cubs. Yes, Scout did do the Halloween dance, but the chief didn’t need to know.  He’d seen the Siamese do it before when Vivian Marston’s body was found.  Katherine shuddered when she remembered how he’d wanted to call ‘animal control.’

Katherine resumed collecting her personal things when the cell phone rang. It was Mark.

He began concerned, “I heard what happened. Are you okay? Are the cats okay?”

“We’re fine, but where are you?”

“I’m on my way back from Indy. Lawyer stuff,” he explained. “I’ve talked to Cokey about the damage to the house. He said it isn’t safe for you to live there. Can I stop by when I get into town?”

“Sure, but I’ll be working in the attic. Text me because I won’t be able to hear the doorbell. I know this is a little premature, but since Carol has passed away, who do I give Orvenia’s documents to?”

“Beatrice Baker is in charge now. She’ll be giving you a call. I told her not to bother you for a few days in light of what has happened. Do you have a place to stay?”

“I stayed at Cokey’s last night. Cokey’s wife has rented me her bungalow on Alexander Street. Power or no power, I’m moving in tomorrow.”

“Figure out what you want to move. I’ll hire a crew to help you. Talk to you later. Bye now,” he said, hanging up.

Immediately the cell rang again; it was Margie.

“You ready for lunch, kiddo?” she asked happily.

“Why, yes! I’m starving.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in a jiff. I got some sandwiches made for the guys. I’ll drop them off, but you and I can eat lunch at your new place.”

“My new place? Super!” Katherine said
excitedly.

Within a few minutes, Margie pulled up in Cokey’s Dodge Ram. Katherine met her at the door. “What a mess!” Margie said, shaking her head. “Well, it’s official. Just talked to some Indy Energy
workers up the street. They seem to think we won’t have power until tomorrow, so you know what that means?”

“Yes, to Jake’s we go! But does he have room for me? I’ll need to bring my cats.”

“He’s got plenty of room, so where’s the guys?”

“In the basement.”

“Okay, I’ll run lunch down to them, and when I come back, we’ll load your stuff in the truck.”

“Great!” Katherine already had the packed suitcase, but she ran upstairs for her
makeup and hair products.
Can’t look a fright in front of Jake
, she thought, then giggled.

Hurrying
back, Katherine met Margie at the foot of the stairs.

“They’re famished! Hope I made enough!” Margie worried.

“I’m sure they’ll be thankful it’s food,” Katherine joked.

“What are we taking?” Margie asked.

“Just a few personal items.  My suitcase is in the atrium.” They left the house, but first Katherine locked the door.

It took two of them to heave the heavy suitcase in the back of the truck. “What do you have in there, bowling balls?” Margie
teased.

“I was going to New York and didn’t know what to pack.”

“Been there and done that,” Margie kidded, getting into the truck.

Katherine pulled herself in by the ceiling strap and said, “How are my kids?”

“They’re fine. We fed them what Spitfire eats and they loved it!”

“You’ll have to tell me what it is, so I can buy it.”

“It’s the cheapest canned food at the grocery store. The smell will clear a room.”

The two laughed. Katherine thought Margie was such a
cool person. She had to pinch herself when she remembered Cokey cheating on her.
Go away, bad thoughts,
she said to herself.

“The kids and I have been working on the house all morning,” Margie said, putting the truck in gear. “We’ve got it swept. Broom
and dustpan, that is,” she added. “Don’t worry about the cats scratching the floors, because like I said, I haven’t refinished them yet. They’re clean, but a little rough-looking.”

“I appreciate this so much. We’ll take good care of it!”

Margie pulled in front of a red brick bungalow. “Believe it or not, this house was built from a kit. It’s a genuine Sears Craftsman,” Margie announced.

“I love it!” Katherine observed, jumping out. “When was it built?”

“1912,” Margie said, joining Katherine on the front porch. “It doesn’t have a garage.”

“Not a problem, considering the fact I don’t have a car,” Katherine said cynically.

“Yep, Cokey told me about that. The house has a new boiler, but you won’t have to use it,” Margie explained. “It’s supposed to be in the seventies tomorrow. Appliances are new. Blah, blah, blah. Just come on in and I’ll show ya.”

Tommy and Shelly opened the door and said, “About time, Mom. We’re like starving, already.”

“Oops, hang on.” Margie went back to the truck and grabbed a picnic basket. Returning, she said, “Let’s eat lunch, then I’ll give you the tour. This way to the kitchen.”

Katherine stood in the kitchen door with her mouth open. “This is incredible! I like the modern look. Margie, you do excellent work!”

“We had to gut it. There wasn’t much left of the original except the fixed corner table with the built-in benches,” Margie explained. “It had layers of paint on it. I refinished it. The walls had at least four layers of wallpaper. I removed that. Cokey restored the light fixture, but other than the table and light, it’s modern, complete with stainless steel sink, appliances, and granite countertops.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“The gal who sells my houses says kitchens sell a house, so I always have a new kitchen, unless the original is in good shape. Hey, kids, where are you?”

Shelly came in and said to Katherine, “Hi, Cat Lady!” She scooted to the far left side of the table booth.

Margie scolded. “Her name is Katherine.”

“Katz,” Katherine said, smiling.

Tommy strolled in and said, “I’ve got it all figured out which room will be for the cats.” He plopped down across his sister.

“Which one is that?” Katherine asked, slipping in next to him.

“The one with the most windows. Cats like sunlight. Just ask Spitfire. He’s always in the sun.”

Margie set out plates with ham and tuna salad sandwiches. Pouring glasses of iced tea, she said, “Thanks to the generator, the food’s pretty cold.” The kids dove in immediately. They talked about the house, the tornado, and various other topics until it was time to see the rest of house.

Margie led the way. “The house is little over a thousand square feet. It has three bedrooms in the back. Although there’s a dormer, there isn’t a second story. It has a basement, which folks in Indiana need as you have found out.”

Katherine stood in the living room and admired the two glass-front bookcases on either side of the brick fireplace. “What’s the room in there?” she asked, pointing.

“That’s an enclosed sun porch. It has tons of windows.”

“That’s the room,” Tommy said. He had been quietly following them from room-to-room. “The cats will love it!”

“I can imagine they would,” Katherine giggled, then said to Margie, “I’m glad the floors aren’t finished. My cats would really damage them, especially when they have a race.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, how do you keep them from scratching the floor at the pink mansion?” Margie asked.

“Lots of carpet runners! So far it’s worked.”

“Well that’s your two-dollar tour. Reckon we need to head on out.”

Katherine asked, “Can I move in tomorrow? I’ve already spoken to Mark. He’s hiring a moving crew.”

“Call him and cancel. I’ve got the truck. Lincoln Street is open, so why not now? We can at least get your personal stuff over here while it’s light. Besides, we’ve got a few hours before the guys call it quits.”

“Perfect,” Katherine said, taking her cell phone out. She sent Mark a text message. “Cancel the movers.” Putting the phone back in her pocket, she asked, “Can we go to your house first so I can check on my cats?”

“That’s fine. I need to make sure the kids get home,” then to Tommy, “Find your sister and tell her to meet us at the truck.”

Katherine slipped out the front door and sat on the porch swing. She gazed down the tree-lined street at other, similar houses. She thanked her lucky stars the tornado had missed it. Now, she had a place to stay. The cats would have a sunroom, and she’d have a swing!

*
      *      *

Returning to the pink mansion, Katherine was surprised at how fast the CSI unit had gotten there and set up shop. They already put up a blue tent and were busy inside. Two men were slowly digging out from the basement foundation. Another group of men were digging near the foundation of the yellow brick American Foursquare house next door. Cokey and Jake stood nearby, talking to Chief London. When they saw Katherine, they flagged her down.

“It’s not a well,” Jake said to Katherine. “It’s a tunnel.”

“A tunnel?” she asked
, puzzled. “Where does it go?”

“It connects to the yellow brick house,” Cokey answered.

The chief asked Katherine, “Do you know who owns this house?”

“No, not really. Never seen anyone in it. Never any lights on,” she answered.

Mark pulled up in front and briskly walked over. “Any progress?” he asked the chief.

“Nope, not yet.
We’re trying to figure out who owns the house next door?”

“Oh, that house belongs to the Colfax estate. It’s been empty ever since old Mrs. Clay died.”

“When was that?”

“She died last October. As part of the settlement of Orvenia’s estate, we’re putting it up for sale. Why do you ask?” Mark said, just noticing the CSI personnel removing dirt
near the foundation of the house next door.

Cokey said, “The State Police found a tunnel connecting the two houses.”

Mark looked shocked and asked Cokey, “When you tuck-pointed in the basement, did you notice anything odd about the brick in that area? If it was a tunnel, there had to have been a door at one time.”

Cokey shook his head defensively. “
There wasn’t anything the matter with those bricks, so I just left them alone. And since Orvenia was dead, there wasn’t anybody for me to ask about the newer bricks in the wall,” he said almost sarcastically.

A CSI tech pushing a wheelbarrow full of brick and broken glass walked by, then dumped the debris in a nearby area. He said to the chief, “We’ve already gone through this, but I’ll be dumping little piles on tarps around the yard until we’re finished.”

An officer from inside the tent motioned for the chief to join him.

Katherine said to Cokey and Jake, “Margie and I are moving some of my stuff to the bungalow, so I better go in and get started. If you need me, just give a yell.”

“One second,” Mark said, walking after her.

Katherine turned around, looked past Mark, and caught Jake’s eye. He nodded and tipped his ball cap.

Chief London yelled, “Hey, Mark, we need those keys to the Clay house.”

“I’ll drive to my office and get them now,” Mark said, and then to Katherine, “Carol’s service is tomorrow at ten. Could you join me?”

“Yes, of course. Where’s it being held?”

“A funeral home in the city. Can I pick you up at nine?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure where I’ll be. I think I’m staying at Jake’s.”

Mark glared but
recovered quickly. “Have Jake bring you to my office. We’ll leave from there.”

“That works,” she said, walking up the front steps.

Mark returned to his car, got in and drove off.

Katherine rushed in and immediately went upstairs to the back of the hall guest
room. Taking the shoe box out of the drawer, she began examining the contents. Trusting the instincts of her smart felines, she began sorting the papers. Those documents with fang marks went into one pile, and those without went in another pile. Glancing at the fang-mark pile, Katherine noted the most curious document was the torn bottom half of a court document from the Erie County Clerk’s office. The official seal was stamped 1938. It read: “Petition to Schedule Hearing on October 28, 1938. All interested persons who wish to object to the petition must file their objections on or before the hearing date.” Written in faded red ink was a court file number.

“What’s this?” Katherine said out loud. “A petition to do what?” Katherine decided to ask Mark if the Erie County Clerk’s office would have records from that time period. As her attorney, with the help of the file number, maybe he could find the other half of the document.

Putting the papers back into the shoe box, she carried it to her bedroom, where she placed it in a laundry basket. A gut feeling told her that something important was in the box, or else the cats wouldn’t have gotten into it. Until she knew what that was, she was keeping the box in a safe place. Piling personal belongings on top of it, she made her way downstairs to the atrium. Opening a drawer in the marble-top curio cabinet, she took out the small leather bound journal belonging to William Colfax. She placed that in her basket, as well. Either Scout was attracted to a chemical in the binding, or she had let her person know it was an important lead.
But, what
? Katherine wondered.

A loud crash from the living room interrupted Katherine’s reverie. She raced into the room to find William Colfax’s portrait on the floor. “Well, Lilac,” she said under her breath. “I guess you got your wish.” Walking over to pick up the portrait, she leaned the painted canvas against the wall. She noticed a yellowed envelope taped to the back. Reaching down, she peeled off the envelope and carefully opened it. It was a handwritten note from the artist. It read: “Dearest Orvenia. So sorry I delivered this after William left. I so much wanted him to see it. Also, I’m returning the photograph you provided me to work from.”

“Left?” Katherine exclaimed. “Where did he go?” Katherine flinched when she heard the front door opening.

Margie called, “Hey, Katz!”

Leaving the living room with the envelope in hand, Katherine met Margie in the atrium. “Hi, Margie,” she said. “I’ve been putting my stuff in laundry baskets.” She inserted the envelope underneath a fluffy towel.

“Makes it easier to carry,” Margie
commented. “Have you looked outside? There’s car after car of people driving by and gawking at the CSI tent. Chief London is fit to be tied, and out on the street directing traffic. I could barely drive the truck through the mess to park in front of the house.”

Kath
erine moved to the front door and peered out. An Erie police cruiser with flashing lights pulled in front of Margie’s truck. Officer Glover darted out and took over for the chief, who looked madder than a hatter. “It’s like a circus out there,” she observed, then almost shouted, “Oh, my God. Is that the news channel van?”

Margie looked out. “Oh, darn, it is. We might have to wait until later to haul your stuff out.”

“Oh, hell no,” Katherine said indignantly. “I haven’t done anything wrong. If anyone approaches me, I’ll say I don’t know anything, which is the truth.”

“No worries,” Margie said in a calming tone. “Let’s get started.”

Katherine directed Margie upstairs and the two began the arduous task of finding personal belongings to move to the bungalow. After twenty minutes, Cokey and Jake came up.

Cokey said to Katherine, “Hey, did you know the city news van is outside? There’s a reporter standing on your front porch with some guy holding a TV camera.”

“Bloody hell,” Katherine said, using Colleen’s favorite curse words.

Margie asked
, worried, “How are we going to get Katz’s stuff over to the bungalow?”

Jake answered, “Get the truck and move it to the back.”

“Where am I going to park? It’s a disaster back there!” Margie asked.

“The dump truck just left,” Cokey said. “Pull down the alley and we’ll direct you.”

“Yep, I’ll do that,” Margie said, hurrying down the stairs.

“Might as well make ourselves useful,” Jake said. “What can we carry down?”

Katherine smiled. “We’re putting stuff in laundry baskets.”

“What about furniture? You’ll need a bed,” Jake
observed.

“Actually, the only furniture I want moved is those two yellow wingback chairs in the living room. I can move the TV later.”

“What are you gonna sleep on?” Cokey asked.

“I’m ordering a bed online.”

“But, why buy a new bed when you’ve got all these beds here?” Cokey persisted.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret. I
hate
the mattresses in this house! My back hasn’t been the same since I left New York!”

Cokey and Jake chuckled and carried the baskets to the back part of the house. Downstairs, Katherine heard a commotion outside and ran to the front door.
Peeking out the side light, she saw Margie in an altercation with one of the reporters. They were talking so loud, she could hear the two of them.

The reporter shouted, “How does it feel to live in what everyone in town is calling the murder house?” She shoved a microphone in Margie’s face.

Margie yanked the microphone out of the reporter’s hand and said, “How do you feel about getting a colonoscopy? Now get away from my truck,” she yelled, throwing the microphone back at the reporter.

Katherine stifled a laugh.