The Cats that Surfed the Web (16 page)

“I need to pick up my friend in a few hours.”

“No problem. Just give me a holler and I’ll take you,” he said, turning to go in the next room.

“Thanks,” she said, calling after him. She rushed upstairs and deliberately averted her gaze from the corner where Mrs. Marston’s body had been found.

Scout was behind the door at the top of the basement steps, chattering about something. “Get back, Scout,” Katherine admonished. Scout ran to the center of the room, threw herself on the floor, and began rolling from side to side. “Waugh,” she complained.

“Okay, I surrender,” Katherine said. “I know you’re hungry. I’m going to feed you now.”

After feeding the cats on rose-patterned Haviland dishes, she went into the kitchen, poured water into the kettle, and set it down on the burner. As she struck a match and lit the gas jet, she heard the muffled sound of two people talking in the basement. At that moment, she didn’t think anything of it, because Cokey was tuck pointing the basement bricks. She thought one of his friends had joined him for a bit of conversation while he worked.

Scout trotted in and began nervously pacing back and forth in a figure-eight circle.

“What’s the matter now?” Katherine said, petting the troubled cat.

“Waugh,” Scout said tensely. She ran a few steps and then turned around. “Waugh,” she said, flinging her body against the stove.

“What is it?” Katherine asked, concerned. Scout ran out of the kitchen to the office door that led to the basement. Katherine hurried after her. Scout reached up with a brown paw and tapped the doorknob.

“You can’t go down there,” she admonished, and then stopped. The conversation downstairs had become louder.

Scout pretzelled her lean body behind Katherine’s legs, which prevented her from moving away from the door. The woman’s voice in the basement was now sobbing.

“You led me to believe that if I had money you’d divorce your wife,” the voice cried.

“Where in the hell did you get that idea? I’ve told you from day one that I don’t intend to divorce her,” Cokey said.

“Don’t you realize that as soon as my mother’s estate is settled I’ll have tons of money? You could quit your job. We could build that log cabin we always talked about.”

“Money doesn’t mean a damned thing to me. I think you should take that money, finish school, and move as far away from here as possible.”

“But I thought you loved me,” the woman pleaded.

“Look, Patty, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I’m not interested. I will never leave my wife and kids to be with you. You’ve got to understand that and leave me alone.”

“Cokey, darling, you led me to believe that you would marry me,” she choked.

“Patty, stop crying. She’ll hear you.”

“That witch,” Patricia said. “Coming out here to claim what was rightfully my mother’s inheritance.”

“Shhh,” Cokey warned. “I don’t want you to talk bad about Ms. Kendall. I think she’s a very nice lady.”

Patricia continued to cry. Cokey said something to her that Katherine couldn’t make out. The kettle began whistling on the stove, and Scout moved so Katherine could return to the next room. Katherine feared that the couple below could hear her footsteps on the creaking wood floor. She felt she had violated their privacy by eavesdropping. She had learned something about the handyman that she didn’t care to know. He was the married man whom Vivian Marston had referred to.

Katherine changed her mind about the tea. She gazed out the kitchen window and watched Patrician Marston leave. She grabbed her cell phone and called the hospital to inquire about Colleen. The voice on the other end said that Colleen was doing much better and could be picked up anytime after eight a.m.

Katherine took a quick shower, dried her hair, and then thought how awkward it would be to ask Cokey for a lift to the hospital after overhearing his conversation. But it turned out easy. She was checking her email when there was a light rap on the office door. It was Cokey.

“Hey, I heard the click and clack of your keyboard. Want to go now?” he asked.

Katherine opened the door. “Yes, of course. I’ll get my coat.”

“I’ll be in the truck,” he said, leaving.

Katherine hurried behind him. She had trouble getting into his Dodge Ram.

“Use the running board,” he said. “Take my hand. I’ll pull you in.”

She got in. “I really appreciate this.”

“No problem.”

He was clearly upset about something
, she thought. He barely spoke on the way. When they got there, he said, “I’ll just wait here.”

Katherine entered the hospital and found her friend sitting up in a wheelchair. “Hey, how are you?”

“Ready to hit my bed,” Colleen said. “But at least I’m not retching anymore.”

The nurse suggested Katherine check Colleen out, so Katherine headed to the front desk. She signed a discharging patient form and then returned to Colleen, who had fallen asleep in the wheelchair. Katherine tapped her on the shoulder and said, “Hey, Missy, we’ve got to go now.”

The nurse grabbed the handles and pushed Colleen out. As if on cue, Cokey pulled the truck to the front. He got out and helped Colleen inside; she sat in the middle. Katherine climbed in after Colleen. Cokey got in and fired up the engine. “Look at that snow,” he observed, pulling out. “It’s really coming down.”

When they got to the house, Katherine noticed a car parked behind her disabled car and said to Cokey, “Yay! Your mechanic friend is here.”

“No, that’s not Ben’s car,” Cokey answered. “That’s some kind of rental car. See the sticker on the back bumper. Plus, it’s got Illinois plates. Know anyone from Illinois?”

“Not really. I don’t see anyone sitting in it,” Katherine said, getting out. “Well, it’s snowing to beat the band. We’ll figure it out later once I’ve got Colleen upstairs.”

“Can I help?” Cokey offered.

“No, we’re good. Thanks,” Colleen said.

“Listen, I’ve got to get something at the hardware store. I’ll be back in a minute. Can you unlock the basement door?”

“Sure,” Katherine said. And then to Colleen, “Can you make it?”

Colleen slid off the truck seat. The two trudged through the snow, making their way to the front door.

“Let me get you to bed, and then I’m going to tell you something you’ll not believe.”

“Why wait? Tell me now,” Colleen implored.

“Our Mr. Cokey had an affair with Patricia Marston.”

“Shut the door! What makes you think that?”

“Because of something I overheard this morning,” Katherine said as she turned the key in the lock. As they mounted the stairs to the second floor, she quickly filled in the details of the conversation.

“She has a lot of nerve setting foot in this house after she quit without notice. She has no business here.”

Katherine nodded and said, “Oh, remember the cigarette lighter we found in Abby’s stash in the chair lining? I’m pretty sure Patricia gave that to Cokey. Remember the inscription: 
To Cokey with Love
with a letter scratched out? I think the letter was an initial, ‘P’ for Patricia.”

Colleen’s eyes widened. “You think? Where did she get the money for that? It looked expensive. How did he react when you gave it back to him?”

“I didn’t. I can’t find it. I think Abby took it again.”

“The thief with bangs,” Colleen mused. “Katz, here we are,” Colleen said entering her bedroom. “I’m feeling really sleepy again.”

“You get some rest. I’m going downstairs and try to solve the rental car mystery.”

“Maybe in an hour or so could you bring me some tea?” Colleen asked, covering herself with a comforter.

“Will do. Hey, if you need anything, just call me on my cell. We’ll pretend the house has an intercom system.”

Katherine closed the door and walked down the hall. A very agitated Iris met her.

Iris hissed and ran down the stairs. She began to frantically paw on the pocket door that led to the dining room.

“What’s wrong, sweet girl?” Katherine asked, following her. When she slid the pocket door open, she instantly knew something peculiar had taken place while she’d been away. The cranberry glass chandelier was on and one of the drawers to the Eastlake hutch was partially open. She snatched Iris, who tried to get down, but Katherine held her tight. She ran to the powder room by her office and shut Iris inside. “I’ll be right back.”

Iris snarled.

Katherine walked into her office and was horrified to see the basement door standing wide open.
The other cats are in the basement
, she realized with sudden panic. She flipped on the stairwell light and ran down the stairs two at a time. On the bottom landing, she stopped dead in her tracks. She distinctly heard Scout.

“Scout,” she called. “Where are you, darling?”

Scout’s Siamese meow echoed from the farthest recesses of the dimly lit basement. Katherine followed the sound. After a few steps, she squinted and saw Scout outside the turret room door, engaged in the same kind of Halloween cat dance she had performed around Vivian Marston’s corpse several days before.

Katherine hesitated, not wanting to go any further. “Scout, come to me,” she coaxed.

Scout bellowed a low, throaty growl and continued arching her back, hopping up and down, and salivating at the mouth like a rabid animal. The fur on the back of her neck was bristled, her ears were flattened, and her tail was bushed out all the way to its tip.

Katherine began to wonder if Scout had gotten into some sort of poisonous pesticide and was reacting violently to the toxin.

“Stop it, this instant,” Katherine insisted and suddenly ran forward.

Scout darted into the turret room. Katherine chased after her, but hesitated outside the doorway, terrified of what she might find inside.

Another moan from Scout forced her to react. She lunged into the room and tripped over a long, unyielding object on the floor. “Oh, my God!” she cried as she rolled over on her side and stared directly into the face of a man. “Gary?” she screamed, and then began to cry hysterically.

In a bizarre gesture, someone had stuffed the gold cigarette lighter into Gary DeSutter’s mouth. With trembling hands, Katherine stifled her sobs and tried to compose herself.

“Gary!” she shouted. “Gary!” She shook his shoulders. “Gary, wake up,” she demanded. She felt his wrist for a pulse, but couldn’t find one. She felt his neck, but there was no pulse there, either. There was a knife sticking out of his armpit; the blade deep inside.

It was then she noticed the blood—pools of blood—warm and sticky. She jumped up and slid in the blood as she fumbled to find the chain to the overhead light bulb. When she turned it on, she screamed. Abby lay on her side in the corner, motionless.

“Abby, no,” she cried. “Oh, no.”

Cokey Cokenberger ran in. “What the hell?” he asked. “What happened here? Who is this man?”

“He’s dead. There’s no pulse. Call 911. I’ve got to take care of Abby.”

“What’s wrong with her? She’s covered in blood.” Cokey
quickly examined the cat, then said, “I don’t think this is her blood.” He found his phone and called 911.

The 911 operator answered. Cokey recognized her voice as his niece. “Maureen, we’ve got a situation he
re at the Colfax house. I need Chief London over here ASAP. Somebody’s been stabbed to death. And tell him to drive down the back alley, because the driveway is blocked with vehicles. Oh, and get a hold of Dr. Sonny. Tell him to stop whatever he’s doing and get over here pronto. Orvenia’s cat has been injured.”

“Right, got it!” Maureen said, hanging up.

“They’re on their way,” Cokey said to Katherine, who had picked up Abby and was holding her in her arms.

“She’s breathing, but her pupils are super-dilated,” Katherine said in a trembling voice.

“Ah, I think she’s in some sort of shock. You’ve got blood on you, too. Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Is that the guy’s rental car parked outside?” Cokey asked, gesturing to the body.

Katherine nodded. “And the story gets even richer. He’s my ex-boyfriend, Gary, from New York. I don’t know why he’s here. I don’t know how he knew where to find me. I don’t have a clue what’s going on.”

They could hear the police sirens wailing in the distance.

“Cokey, please hold her,” she said handing Abby to the handyman. “I’ve got to get Scout out of here. If the chief sees Scout’s death dance a second time, he might declare her vicious and take her away.” A horrible thought entered Katherine’s mind: What if a court determined Scout was harmful to society and ordered her put to sleep?
Gary’s dead
, she sadly rationalized,
but my cat isn’t.

“Scout, baby,” Katherine said as soothingly as possible.

“Waugh,” Scout screeched.

Katherine cornered the terrified Siamese and grabbed her around the middle. Scout struggled desperately, but Katherine held on tight. She wrestled Scout out of the basement and up the stairs. She opened the powder room door and gingerly put Scout inside. Scout sneezed a couple of times and then went over to Iris. “Waugh,” she said, collapsing next to her. Iris curled up her lips as if she had smelled something disgusting, then began grooming Scout fastidiously with her pink tongue. Scout began to purr, so Katherine knew she could leave the two of them confined together without fear of Scout performing any more bizarre death dances.