The Cats that Surfed the Web (2 page)

Katherine sighed. “I must give up my life here in New York, my career, my apartment, everythin
g
 . . 
.
and move to Indiana.”

“You sound so melodramatic. What’s the deal?” her friend demanded. “Why, just the other day you said you hated crime in the city. You got mugged for ten bucks,” Colleen lectured. “You broke up with Gary. There isn’t a man in your life,” she continued. “Moving on to your career,” Colleen said, ticking the points on her fingers, “You said yourself that your job’s too stressful, and you work ridiculous hours. Plus you’re
always
complaining that your apartment is too small for you and the cats.”

Katherine shrugged. “Yes, I was mugged last month for seven dollars and change. Gary is history. My job sucks. My apartment is too small. But, to leave New York—my home—and my friends?”

“You’re simply moving to another state,” Colleen reasoned. “Trust me, your friends don’t need instructions about how to get on a plane. Besides, we can talk on the phone. Or text or send emails. It’s not like the end of the world.”

“That would be grand.”

“
Grrrand
,” Colleen enunciated. “You must roll your ‘Rs’. Didn’t you say you wanted to start your own software training business? Wouldn’t Indiana be the perfect place? Don’t they have a big city there?”

“The largest city is Indianapolis, but I won’t be living there. My great aunt lived in a small town about a hundred miles from Indianapolis. I
Googled it. It’s kind of to the northwest, and sort of close to the Illinois border. There’s only four thousand people in my great aunt’s town.”

“Four thousand people,” Colleen said with disbelief. “I wonder if any of them have computers. Do you think they even have electricity?”

“Ha, ha.” Katherine said, rolling her eyes.

“Just kidding,” Colleen smirked. “So, cheer up. I’d be excited to get out of NYC and inherit big bucks. What’s the name of this little town?”

“Erie.”

Colleen drew a long breath, then belted out a loud laugh. “Eerie. Like creepy? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“What’s so funny? That’s the name of it—Erie. Not “eerie”. The town is named after the Erie Canal. Katherine took another sip of her Cabernet and said, “There’s another provision of the will. I must take care of my great aunt’s cat.”

“Another cat? You’ve got three terrors now. Besides, wouldn’t they kill each other?”

“Possibly,” Katherine kidded. “But probably not. I remember when I brought Iris home from Magnificent Meows.”

“How can I forget. You spent all that money for a cat. In this econom
y
 . . 
.
Who does that?”

“Iris was so tiny, she fit on the palm of my hand. The day I picked her up, it was snowing like crazy, so I—”

“Yes, yes. You put her inside your coat and took her home to meet Scooter, your other mink-point.”

“It’s Scout, not Scooter, and they’re seal-point Siamese.”

“Whatever,” Colleen said, rolling her eyes. “By the way, how is Iris, the three million dollar cat? Has she scratched anyone lately?”

“No, not since Gary,” Katherine laughed.

“Yeah, Gary the womanizer. Whatever possessed him to give you a third cat?”

“Why do men who cheat on their wives bring home a dozen red roses? He knew I didn't like roses, so he brought me what I cherish the most—a cat. Lilac is one of the best presents I’ve ever received.” Katherine became very serious and returned to the main subject. “Colleen, I don’t know what to do. Moving to Indiana would totally change my life, I’m sure it would. Do I really want to move out there, where I don’t know anyone?”

“You know this attorney,” Colleen said coyly. “How old do you think he is?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Is he young or old?”

“I don’t have a clue.”

“Is he married?”

“How would I know? I barely talked to the man.”

“I’m sure when you move to Erie,” Colleen snickered, “Mr. Lawyer will show you around and introduce you to new people.”

“Very funny,” Katherine commented.

“So, I think you should fly out there for a few days—meet with the attorney, see the house, visit the cat, and
then
decide whether you want to accept the big bucks.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Katherine agreed. “But if I go this weekend, where am I going to find a cat sitter on such short notice?”

“I’ll mind the creatures,” Colleen volunteered. “Of course, I don’t have a clue on what to do, but you could show me. Surely it couldn’t be too difficult.”

Katherine laughed. “But you don’t like cats.”

“Oh, it’s not as bad as that.” Colleen protested. “Seriously, I will mind them while you’re away.”

“That would be great.”

“This will work out perfectly for me because I have an office thing to go to Saturday night, and I’d much rather walk from your apartment in the city than take the subway from Queens.”

“It’s a deal. I’ll buy a ticket online tonight, as soon as I get home.”

“Now that I’ve solved your problem, why do you still have a long face?”

“How would I possibly take care of a seventeen-room house?”

“Seventeen-room house? Who does that?” Colleen blurted. “Simple. You plug in the Hoover and vacuum for the rest of your life,” she chuckled.

“Too funny. Let’s grab a cab to my apartment and order Chinese take-out.” Katherine said, cheering up.

Colleen replied, “Only if Iris is in a good mood.”

“We’ll pick up a can of real tuna at the bodega on the way to my apartment. She loves tuna.”

The two settled their tab, then walked outside and hailed a cab. They asked the driver to stop two blocks from Katherine’s apartment building. While Katherine paid the fare, Colleen darted in the bodega and bought the fish. When she came back out on the street, she said, “Tuna in oil, right?”

“Oh, no. Spring water. Oil will make them sick.”

“Oops. Back in a minute,” Colleen said, running back into the store.

When she returned, they both laughed, and then traded funny stories on the way to the apartment.

At the main entrance to the building, the Italian doorman ceremoniously opened the door and said, “Good evening, Ms. Kendall. I see you are in the company of your lovely friend.”

“Yes, Mario,” Katherine said, winking. Mario had a mild crush on Colleen.

“For the love of Mary,” Colleen said, hurrying in.

“I think she likes you,” Katherine whispered to Mario.

The doorman winked and began to sing a line from
Gangnam Style
. “Eh, sexy lady.”

“Op, op, op, op.” Katherine sang, as she did an imitation of the horsey dance.

“Oh, my god.” Colleen said. “You didn’t?”

“Sing it, Mario,” Katherine called from the apartment mailboxes.

Colleen looked at the doorman like he had lost his mind. Mario smiled, then took a deep bow.

“This guy is a real comedian,” Colleen said.

“And cute,” Katherine added, putting in the good word for Mario. Katherine sorted through her mail and joked, “Publishers Clearing House—one million dollars. Drawing in February. As if I need to come into any more money.”

They rode up to the top floor, giggling like school girls. As soon as they stepped off the elevator, they heard a loud wail.

“I didn’t know there were any babies on your floor,” Colleen commented.

“That’s Scout.”

“Waugh,” the cat cried louder.

“I can’t ever tell them apart, let alone distinguish their meows.”

The activity behind the door grew noisier. One of the cats was scratching the door. Another one crashed into it.

“Hurry up with the key. They’re in a frenzy, they are,” Colleen said, concerned.

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake. They do this every night. This is their welcoming.” Katherine turned the key in the lock and then hurriedly opened the door a crack. “Hi, kids,” she said to the excited cats. “Mama’s home.”

“Mama is home,” Colleen imitated. “Auntie Colleen is here, too.”

“Back. Back! Get back from the door,” Katherine said to the cats as she rushed in.

Colleen came in quickly behind her. “Wow,” she said. “Let’s feed them right away before they look at us like we’re dinner.”

“Can opener is in the kitchen,” Katherine said.

“What? You want me to feed them?” Colleen said.

“Yes, it’ll be good practice for this weekend,” she reminded.

“Well, in that case,” Colleen said, heading for the kitchen. “Do they get the entire can?”

“Divide it into thirds. I’ll be there in a second. Mr. Lawyer sent me the provisions of the will and I didn’t get a chance to print them at the office. Katherine walked to her bedroom/office and inserted a thumb drive into the USB port. In a few seconds, she sent the files to the printer. When they finished printing, she grabbed the sheets and joined Colleen in the kitchen.

Colleen, who never spent time alone with the cats, was staring blankly at three hungry felines. Scout and Iris were on the counter, and Lilac was on the floor.

“Scout and Iris are going to love you because I never feed them on the counter,” Katherine laughed. “I printed the files the attorney sent me. She handed one of the pages to Colleen and kept the other, scanning its contents.

“I give and bequeath my cat, Abigail, and the sum of one hundred thousand dollars to my great niece . . .” Colleen read out loud. “On the condition my great niece resides in my house and cares for my cat for a period of not less than twelve months.”

Katherine interrupted, “It doesn’t mention anything new from what he told me this morning, except if Abigail dies or is seriously harmed during the initial waiting period . . .” She stopped reading and then said, “What a terrible choice of words.”

“Sounds like if anything happens to the cat, you get nothing.”

“Well, that’s rather doom-and-gloom.”

“Plus, I see there’s nothing on this page about the forty-four million dollars,” Colleen said. “Are you sure you downloaded all the files?”

“I’ll check later. My head is spinning.”

“Why don’t you text him and ask him to send the ‘tweeted’ version so we can find out tonight?” Colleen laughed. “Inquiring minds need to know.”

“He didn’t give me his number. I’ll just return his email.”

“Use one of the business apps on your phone. I mean how many lawyers practice in Erie, Indiana?”

“Okay, fine,” she said, fishing out her cell phone. After a few clicks, she held the phone to her ear. Scout jumped up and tried to knock the phone out of her hand.

“Hey, stop that,” she shouted, wrestling the cat for the phone. She got the attorney's voice mail and left a message. Scout continued to butt the phone.

“Quit it,” Katherine scolded. She grabbed the errant cat around the middle and put her on the floor. Scout shrieked as if she had been injured. This set off a string of other feline events. As Scout left the room, Iris pounced on her. Scout rolled to her feet and boxed Iris’s ears. Iris hissed defensively. Then the two of them ran helter-skelter into the living room. Lilac chased after them—with her tail bushed out to three times its normal size.

Colleen burst out laughing.

“Time to order Chinese,” Katherine said.

The Siamese ran back into the kitchen—yowling loudly. “Chinese, not Siamese,” Katherine said to the cats, punching in the take-out number.

“Cats!” Colleen exclaimed. “And to think you’ll be getting another one.”

Chapter Two

Katherine's plane to Indianapolis was late in taking off, which caused her to worry that Mark Dunn wouldn’t wait at the airport. The attorney had promised to pick up Katherine and take her to Erie. She had sent him a text message earlier, but he hadn’t responded.

Once the plane landed, she texted him again, but this time he answered right back. “Head to the baggage claim area,” it said. As she rode down the escalator, she struggled to pull a strand of her long black hair from the clutches of her carry-on bag. She quickly looked around the empty terminal and wished that LaGuardia had been so peaceful. She spied an elderly man with a goatee standing by the luggage carousel and assumed he was the Indiana attorney. “You must be Mr. Dunn?” she said, extending her hand.

The man grinned mischievously and said, “No, but I can pretend.”

A tall, blond man in his thirties rushed over from a newspaper stand and said, “You must be Katherine. Welcome to Indiana. Did you check in any bags?”

“No, just these,” she said, holding up two bags. “I’m so sorry my flight was delayed. I hope you didn’t mind waiting.”

“No problem. I caught up on some reading.” He held up a law journal.

“Thank you so much for picking me up at the airport. I could have easily rented a car.”

“No problem,” he said.

“How long does it take to drive to Erie?”

“From here about an hour and a half,” he said. “My car is in the parking garage. Hope you don’t mind the walk.”

“No, that’s fine. I need to stretch my legs.”

Mark took Katherine by the arm and escorted her out the baggage claim doors. “If it’s any conciliation, I found a close spot. Here, let me take your bags,” he offered.

“Sure, take my carry-on.”

They walked a little farther, then took an elevator to the lower level. When the doors opened, he said, “Here’s my car.” He pointed to a green Honda Accord. “Jane Honda,” he chuckled.

Katherine eyed him curiously, then laughed. “Do people out here name their cars?”

“Not sure about that, but I do,” he smiled. He opened the door and put her carry-on bag on the back seat. He then motioned for Katherine to climb inside.

“It’s freezing,” she said, getting in.

“It's twenty-five degrees,” Mark said, shutting the door. He briskly walked to the other side of the car and got in. “I made reservations at the Erie Hotel restaurant,” he said, buckling up. He fired up the engine and drove out of the parking garage, then made his way to the parking attendant kiosk, where he paid. “I hope you’re not vegetarian, because the Erie Hotel has been rated number one in Indiana for prime rib.”

“I'm a meat and potatoes person,” Katherine said, perking up at the mention of food. “Prime rib is my favorite.”

“Excuse me, but I’m going to pull into the cell phone lot so I can make a few calls,” he said, placing the Bluetooth hook over his right ear. Once he parked, he grabbed his Blackberry and punched in some numbers.

“That’s fine,” she said, gazing out the window. A jet descended noisily and appeared to be flying directly above the car. With the help of airport street lamps, she could see several inches of snow on the ground, and huge mounds of snow piled up in the parking lot. She couldn't recall ever seeing so much snow in New York.

“Erie Hotel? Yes, Velma, this is Mark Dunn. I need to change the reservation to 10:30 p.m. Thank you.” He pressed the end button and dialed again. “Carol, it’s Mark. I’m still in Indy. Ms. Kendall’s flight was delayed. Will someone be at the front desk around midnight or a little later?” He listened, then said, “Okay. That works. We’ll be at the Erie Hotel for dinner, and should be at your place before the witching hour. That’s right. Okay. Bye now.”

He removed the Bluetooth and then put his phone away. “No more calls,” Mark promised. He put the Honda in gear and pulled out onto a service road.

“If you don't mind my asking, while you’re in Indiana, who’s taking care of your cats?” he asked.

“My friend Colleen’s staying in my apartment for the weekend.”

“Have you always lived in New York?”

“I grew up in the Bay Ridge section of Brooklyn in a townhouse built in 1890. I lived there until my mother passed away in 2009. When I took the position at Computer Net, I decided it was easier to live in the city, so I rented my current apartment.”

“Doesn’t it cost a lot to rent in Manhattan?”

She laughed, “Yes, quite a chunk of change. Have you always lived in Indiana?”

“Yes, born and reared. My parents own a farm near Erie. I went to Erie High School, and after I graduated I went to Purdue, and then to the IU law school. How about you? Did you go to school?”

Twenty questions, she thought
. “I went to NYU.”

“What was your major? Computer Sciences, right?”

“Yes,” she said.

“I’m sorry if I’m being nosy. It’s just the lawyer in me.”

“No, that’s okay. It’s a long way to Erie, so conversation would be nice.”

“So, do you like living in Manhattan?”

“Very much,” she answered. “I'm only a few blocks from my job.”

“Lucky you. I spend so much on my car, insurance, gas. . .”

Katherine interrupted, “Oh, I have a car. I pay big bucks to park it, but hardly ever use it. I’ve thought of getting rid of it. It’s an older model Toyota.”

“Where does your friend live? The one taking care of your cats?”

“Colleen lives in Woodside, Queens, with her mother and four brothers. Colleen and I both work in midtown Manhattan. She works for a pharmaceutical company on 42nd Street. She’s dying to move into the city because she hates riding the bus or taking the subway.”

Mark turned off the airport access road onto the ramp to the interstate. The Honda roared into traffic. “I'd like to hear the rest of your story about the magician's cat,” Mark asked curiously. “How old was he when you got him?”

“Her. Scout’s a girl,” she corrected.

“Sorry,” he said.

Katherine smiled. “Scout worked for two years for Harry's Hocus-Pocus Magic Show and was professionally known as Cadabra. Her sister was named Abra. When Scout, I mean Cadabra, was two, Harry was performing in a luxury resort in the Catskills. And while the Siamese were backstage in their traveling carrier, someone stole Abra. Harry called the police, who tried their best to find her, but their search was in vain. Abra had simply vanished. Harry and Scout never saw the other Siamese again.”

“That's too bad,” Mark commented.

“Scout was so traumatized by the loss of her littermate, she began slipping up in her performances, so Harry retired her.”

“So that's when you came into the picture?” Mark asked.

“Not exactly. Harry gave her to a co-worker of mine, Monica DeSutter, who is currently my boss.  Monica didn't have a clue about how to take care of a cat, let alone a Siamese with a behavior problem. She was constantly calling me and asking my advice on what to do. I must admit Cadabra was a handful, and even I didn't have the answers to many of her questions.”

“Did Monica throw in the towel and give her to you?”

“Cadabra was with Monica for about a year when she called me, in the middle of the night, and begged me to take her. I could hear Cadabra shrieking in the background. She sounded like a wild animal. I said I wasn't sure. I’d have to think about it.”

“I'm surprised,” he said. “I’d think that you would jump at the opportunity to have a Siamese, considering the fact you have three now.”

“I explained to Monica that I had just moved into my apartment and I was afraid Cadabra’s shrieks would disturb my new neighbors.”

“So how did Monica persuade you to take the Siamese?”

“The next morning, the doorman to my apartment building buzzed my intercom and said I’d better get downstairs ASAP . . . .”

As Katherine quickly sketched her first meeting with Scout for the inquisitive attorney, she gazed out the car window at the snow-covered fields, at the vague shapes of huddled trees in the distance, illuminated only by the cold winter moon and mercury vapor lamps hanging from barns and out buildings. With her voice telling the tale on autopilot, Katherine’s mind replayed all the details of that day in October 2009.

“B-z-z-z-z.” The intercom blared from the end of the hall. Katherine rushed to answer. She punched the button, “Yes?”

The doorman’s voice answered, “Ms. Kendall, it’s Mario. You’d better come downstairs right away. This lady dropped off a present for you, and it’s screaming.”

She pressed the talk button, “A screaming present? That’s a first. Coming right down.”

Katherine waited impatiently for the elevator, and when it hadn't come in what seemed like an eternity, she rushed to the stairwell and bolted down twenty-two flights of stairs. She flew out the service door leading to the marble-floored lobby, luxuriously decorated with colonial furnishings. Mario, the Italian doorman with jet-black hair and blue eyes, wore a concerned expression on his face.

“What is it?” Katherine asked, out of breath.

"I think it's a cat,” he said.

Mario had placed the cat carrier right on top of his reception desk at the front entrance.

Katherine peered inside. "It's a Siamese. Did a woman named Monica DeSutter bring this?” she demanded, hand-on-hip.

"Hiss,” the cat inside the carrier snarled.

"I'm sorry. I didn't get her name,” Mario apologized. “She did say the cat’s name was Cada . . ."

"Cadabra,” Katherine finished.

The Siamese began rocking the cat carrier back and forth and wailing in shrill, mournful cries.

"I don't think it likes that name,” Mario suggested.

“She,” Katherine corrected. “Cadabra is a girl cat.”

The Siamese emitted a throaty growl.

The elevator doors opened and the wealthy Mrs. Pendleton got off and bustled toward the front door. She made a dead stop in front of Mario’s desk.

"Ah, Mrs. Pendleton, good morning. Your limo is waiting,” he said dutifully.

"What is that creature, and what has possessed it to make that dreadful noise?” she sniffed haughtily.

"I beg your pardon, but that creature is a Siamese,” Katherine said icily.

Cadabra rolled onto her back and began kicking the top of the cat carrier. She crossed her eyes and began to salivate like a rabid animal.

"I thought the board had a policy about permitting wild animals in the building,” Mrs. Pendleton huffed.

Cadabra snarled fiercely.

“Well, I never,” Mrs. Pendleton said indignantly. Mario held the door open for her and she stormed out of the building.

Cadabra immediately turned over and nuzzled the metal gate on the front of the cat carrier. She began purring.

Mario and Katherine burst out laughing. “This cat is a born actress,” Mario observed.

“That was the best cat fit I've ever seen,” Katherine added.

“Ms. Kendall,” Mark said, interrupting the reverie.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Katherine said, waking from her reverie. “What were you saying?”

“When did you decide to name her ‘Scout?’”

“A few days after I got her. At night she patrols my apartment like she’s on a reconnaissance mission. She’s prowled so much, she’s developed calluses on her paws.”

“What other tricks does Scout do, besides answering phones?”

“When you say Abracadabra, she arches her back and dances like a Halloween cat.”

“You're kidding,” Mark said.

“I don't say it very often because it seems to upset her.”

“Maybe it brings back a sad memory.”

“I also have a seal-point named Iris, and she’s my resident cat burglar. She steals my cosmetic brushes and stashes them under my bed. Lilac, my two-year-old lilac-point, fetches a three-inch, stuffed toy bear.”

“Cats don't fetch,” he said skeptically.

“Lilac does. She fetches until she drops in exhaustion. I have to put the bear away.”

“You really like your cats,” he said. “I really like mine, too.”

“You have a cat,” she asked, surprised.

“I have a Maine Coon,” he answered proudly. “He's about four-years-old.”

“Iris is four.”

Mark said slyly, “He's been fixed.”

“Iris has been spayed, but she loves to flirt.”

“Is there any way we can convince you to stay longer than a weekend?” Mark asked, changing the subject.

“I’ll be here two full days. My plane leaves at 6:00 p.m. on Sunday.”

“That doesn’t give us very much time.”

“I think it’s enough time. I’m prepared to give you my answer in forty-eight hours or less,” she said. “What’s on the agenda for me? Where will I be staying? When do I get to meet Abigail?”

“Dinner with me tonight. You’ll be staying in Erie’s only bed and breakfast, the Little Tomato.”

“Little Tomato,” Katherine interrupted. “What kind of a name is that?”

“Indiana is known for its tomatoes. Have you ever had one?”

“No, I’m afraid not, but I could have eaten one and not known it,” she snickered.