The Cats that Surfed the Web (11 page)

“Well, lookie here,” the chie
f said, picking up the key ring. “It seems like the charm part is broken.”

Officer Glover explained, “No, not really. The charm is the right side of a heart. When my wife and I were dating, we gave each other one of these. You join them together and it makes a heart shape. We had each other’s initials engraved on them and wore them around our necks.”

“I can’t read the engraving on this one,” the chief said, squinting.

“It’s the letter M,” Officer Glover read.

“M for Marston. Must belong to Vivian,” the chief said.

“Or Vivian’s daughter, Patricia,” Katherine added. “She’s also an employee here. Maybe she dropped it the last time she was here.”

The chief ignored Katherine’s remark and said, “I can’t decide if this key ring was on the victim’s body or if the cat picked it up elsewhere. Dan, what do you think?”

Officer Glover shrugged. “Maybe when Vivian fell, she dropped the key ring.”

“Who carries around a key ring without a key; there has to be one around here somewhere,” the chief said, scanning the floor. “Eureka,” he said, stooping down again. He picked up a key that was previously unnoticed.

Katherine reached in her pocket and pulled out her house key. “Chief, the key you just found looks like a copy of my house key,” Katherine said. “Can I compare the two?”

“Nope,” he answered, dropping the key and the key ring in an evidence bag.

Colleen said tensely, “If I have to stay here a moment longer, I’m sure to faint.”

“Go upstairs,” the chief said. “You too,” he said to Katherine. “And take that damned cat. Wait for us there.”

Colleen was already at the top of the stairs. Katherine followed her, still holding the quivering Siamese.

“Wait a minute,” he called after Katherine. “What did you say your name is?  You told me earlier but I’d forgotten.”

“Katherine Kendall,” she said firmly.

“Yes, good to know,” he said gruffly. “Now go on upstairs.”

The chief
said to Officer Glover, “We need to get a hold of the State Police. We’ll need a detective to help us out with this case. Also, call the coroner,” he instructed.

Katherine closed the door and whispered to Colleen, “Did you hear that? They’re calling the State Police for a detective. I can’t believe this,” she said, stunned. “Do you think they suspect us of murder?”

Colleen was nervously pacing back and forth. “Surely not, Katz. Maybe it’s standard procedure to call in somebody else. Are you sure we want to stay here tonight? Couldn’t we check in to that bed and breakfast place?”

Katherine did not answer. She kissed Scout on the head and set her down. Scout bounded off into the living room. Katherine and Colleen followed her.

“Wasn’t it called the Little Tomato? Couldn’t we stay there tonight?” Colleen pleaded.

“You may if you like, but I’m not going to allow this to drive me out of this house,” Katherine said determinedly. “I vote we stay and search the rest of the house ourselves. It’s obvious the chief didn’t, or else he would have found Mrs. Marston in the basement.”

“You got that straight.”

“First, we need to make sure the other cats are okay. Help me find them, and then we’ll close them up in my bedroom.”

Colleen relaxed a little and said, “Maybe we should turn off some of these lights so they don’t blow up the circuit box again.”

“I hate to tell you this, but someone deliberately turned off the main power switch.”

Colleen’s eyes widened. “No! Tell me true.”

“We were
not
the only ones in the house when the power went off.”

“Katz, you’re scaring me.”

Scout trailed Katherine as she moved from room to room, calling for the other cats. “Waugh,” Scout eventually cried, growing tired of the search. She darted up the stairs.

“The cats must be upstairs already,” Colleen suggested.

Katherine climbed the stairs and discovered her bedroom door closed. She momentarily stood outside. “Lilac . . . Iris . . . Abby,” she called.

“Me-yowl,” a muffled voice said. “Yowl,” Iris demanded from inside the room.

“This is odd,” she said to Colleen, who was several feet behind her. “Why is this door closed? When we came back from the movie, the cats had gotten out of the room and were downstairs. Now, they’re closed up again. What the hell?” Katherine said, as she hesitantly turned the doorknob.

Katherine opened the door and Iris flung out. The fur on her back was bristled and she was quivering. Katherine picked her up and held her for a moment. “Colleen, can you catch the light?”

Colleen turned on the overhead chandelier. They both gasped. The room was in shambles. The nightstand was overturned and its contents strewn across the floor. The mattress was pulled half off its foundation. The closet door was open, and Katherine’s clothing was ripped off their hangers, piled into a heap in the middle of the floor.

One of the Eastlake armoire’s doors was open, with contents spilling out. The vandal had also tipped over the litter box and had dumped the cats’ water bowl over the marble dresser; the water now dripped slowly onto the wool oriental carpet.

Iris struggled to be put down. Scout rushed over and began to furiously groom the top of Iris’s head.

“Lilac . . . Abby,” Katherine said frantically. Lilac and Abigail both crawled slowly out from under the bed.

“My darlings,” Katherine said.

“Are they okay?”

“Yes, but I’m not,” Katherine said angrily. “I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

“Why would anyone want to do this?” Colleen asked, grabbing Katherine’s terry cloth bathrobe. She began soaking up water from atop the dresser.

“I don’t have a clue, but maybe someone wants to scare me out of this house.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense.” Colleen stopped sopping up water.

“I think we should leave this room, and have the chief take a look at it.”

“We can put the cats in my room,” Colleen suggested.

“No, that’s not necessary. How about that other bedroom at the end of the hall? The one with the super tall headboard?”

“I’ll carry the ladies’ room,” Colleen said, lifting the empty litter box. “Do we have any stuff to put in it?”

“Cat litter? There’s some in the closet next to your room.” Katherine put down Abigail, who quickly moved ahead to join Lilac in the hallway. They rubbed noses. Scout and Iris crept behind Colleen down the hall.

“Check your bedroom. Is everything okay?” Katherine called after her.

Colleen went into her room and shouted, “I don’t believe this. Someone dumped my suitcas
e
 . . 
.
my clothes are everywhere.”

“What?” Katherine said, rushing down the hall. She found Colleen standing next to the bed, holding what remained of her smashed EMF meter.

“Oh, no they didn’t,” Colleen said furiously.

“Who would do this?”

“And it was freaking new.”

“But why would someone break your ghost gizmo and not your cell phone? Look, it’s still on the charger.”

Colleen grabbed her phone and quickly put it in her pocket.

“We need to tell the chief right away, but first help me get the cats in their new room before something else happens.”

Katherine went back to her ransacked room and picked up the empty water bowl. She juggled the bowl, cat food dishes, and the heavy plastic bottle of spring water and made her way down the hall. She nearly tripped over Scout, who had shot down the hall.

“Waugh,” Scout cried.

“Are you thirsty, Scout?” Katherine said, setting the load down on the floor next to the antique bed. She opened the spring water bottle and filled the cats’ water bowl. Meanwhile, Colleen had found the litter and poured a small amount into the box.

“Put in more than that,” Katherine advised.

Lilac and Abby had jumped on the unmade bed and were rolling back and forth.

“Look at those two creatures already at home on the bed as if they know they’re sleeping here tonight,” Colleen ventured.

“It seems very cold in this room. For starters, I’m going to need a few blankets. Later, I need to find some clean sheets to put on it.”

“In the meantime, I’ve got something warm for them to sleep on,” Colleen said leaving the room. She returned carrying a cable-knit sweater.

“Not your best sweater,” Katherine warned.

“It’s only for a couple of hours. How can they possibly hurt it?” she insisted, making a little nest on top of the bed.

Scout jumped onto the bed and began sniffing every inch of the mattress cover. Meanwhile, Iris leapt up onto the Renaissance Revival dresser and was rubbing her jaw against one of its corners. Abigail and Lilac immediately dove for the sweater. While Abby push-pawed the new bed, Lilac positioned herself in the middle of the sweater and settled into a tight circle, lying on her side.

“I’m so thankful that whoever did this didn’t hurt my cats,” Katherine said worriedly.

“Katz, don’t think about that now. Your cats are okay.”

Fishing her cell phone out of her back pocket, Katherine said, “I’m going to call Mark.” Mark’s cell rang once, then went directly into voice mail. Katherine said in an uneasy voice, “Please come to the house. There’s been a terrible tragedy.”

“Ms. Kendall,” the chief shouted from downstairs. “Could you please come down?”

“Him again?” Colleen mumbled.

Iris’s throat rumbled with a ferocious growl. “It’s okay, baby,” Katherine soothed.

They shut the cats in the room and went downstairs to the atrium.

“I need to ask you a few questions,” the chief said, leaning against one of the closed pocket doors.

“Sure,” Katherine said. “I need to speak to you about something, also.”

The chief looked at her expectantly, as if she were about to make a confession.

“Somebody ransacked my bedroom,” Katherine said. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice it when you searched the house.”

He hesitated for a moment and then said defensively, “There was a room upstairs on the left that I didn’t check because the door was locked.”

“My bedroom door was locked?” Katherine asked surprised.

“I knocked but nobody answered.”

“When I came up here, a few minutes ago, the door was closed but not locked.”

The chief shrugged. “I heard your cat in there, so I figured you had locked it in there.”

Katherine and Colleen exchanged questioning looks.

Officer Glover came in. “Coroner is here. Do you wish to speak to him?”

“Yeah, in a few minutes.”

Officer Glover nodded and went back down to the basement.

“Let’s have a look at that bedroom,” Chief London said.

Katherine directed him upstairs to her great aunt’s former bedroom.

He quietly looked around, tugged his beard, and then stared into her eyes. “You’re not into drugs, are you?”

Katherine’s jaw dropped. She replied indignantly, “I’m most certainly not.”

“Routine question when I find something like this,” he explained. “Do you have any idea what they were looking for?”

“No,” she said. “What would they want with my clothes? I just hung them up yesterday. The rest of my stuff isn’t coming until tomorrow.”

The chief nodded and said gently, “I’m sorry to be so rough on you, but we haven’t had a murder in Erie for a long, long time.”

“What do you mean?” Katherine said warily.

“It’s simple. Vivian Marston died in a very suspicious and apparently unnatural way in your house,” he said. “Now, you tell me, what would you think if you were in my shoes?”

“I don’t know why she was in my house. My attorney said she was in the nursing home.”

“Yes, Vivian was,” Mark Dunn said, entering the room. “Hi, Chief. Dan let me in through the basement.” He turned to Katherine. “I was just a few blocks away when I got your message.” Mark glanced around the vandalized room, moved over to Katherine’s side, and whispered, “Love what you’ve done with the place.”

Katherine attempted a smile.

The chief looked at Mark. “Was she or wasn’t she in a nursing home?”

“Yes, but she was discovered missing from the home around seven p.m.”

Colleen, who previously had been standing outside, suddenly bustled into the room and said animatedly, “‘Tis nonsense, I tell you. How can a woman who is in a coma go missing from her bed?”

“Good question,” the chief said.

Mark put up his hands. “Up to a few minutes ago,
I
was at the nursing home. I talked to everyone on the staff, and no one could figure out what happened to her. When I left the home, the nurse in charge was calling Vivian’s daughter, Patricia. I suggested that they also call the police.”

“What is your involvement in this?” the chief asked.

“As you know, my law firm has represented the Colfax family for a number of years. I’m the executor of Orvenia’s estate. Vivian Marston’s care was being paid for by a trust under Mrs. Colfax’s will.”