2 The Cats That Chased the Storm

by Karen Golden

  “I can advance you money from the estate to buy a new car,” he advised.

  “Maybe when I get the six-month distribution from my great aunt’s will,” she said evasively. “I have a lot of history with this car. It’ll be hard to let go.”

  “Speaking of will,” Mark said, pulling a paper-clipped document out of his briefcase, “I know I promised this months ago, but in light of the stress you’ve gone through, I thought it better to wait.” He handed the will to Katherine.

  “Should I be worried?” Katherine asked, suddenly concerned.

  Mark shook his head.

  Katherine began perusing the pages while Mark sat quietly next to her.

  “The Little Tomato Bed & Breakfast woman is named in the will?” she asked, surprised. “I bequeath $200 thousand dollars to Carol Lombard,” Katherine read out loud, then continued, “on the condition that she use that sum exclusively for charitable and educational purposes consistent with the terms of my letter to Carol dated –”

  Mark interrupted, “For the Erie Historical Society. Orvenia willed her personal documents, which I have in my office safe, to the Society. Carol is in charge of it. Also, any miscellaneous papers you find in the house that might have historical importance.”

  “I’ve been in the attic – ah-choo – for weeks, and I’m not finished sorting through them,” Katherine said. “What’s my lead time? When do I have to hand over this stuff to Carol?”

  “When the estate finishes all the preliminary distributions listed on that third page and the next page, which I estimate will happen next month.”

  “I think I can be done by then,” she said. Continuing reading, she smiled. “Cokey is going to love this! Does he know he’s getting a brand new truck?”

  Mark smiled. “Yes, he’s so happy with the news, he’s already shopping.”

  Iris began rolling on Mark’s shoes, then grabbed his leg with her front paws.

  “Iris cut it out!” Katherine scolded, then to Mark, “Do you want me to put her up?”

  “She didn’t have her claws out. She probably smells my cat on my shoes.”

  “Yowl,” Iris sassed, deliberately crossing her eyes.

  Katherine turned to another page in Orvenia’s will. “Oh, here’s the part about Vivian Marston being second-in-line after me to inherit the estate. That is, if I had refused to move here and take care of Abby.”

  Mark interjected, “I got some new information about Vivian last week . . . Not practically important now, but interesting. I received a copy of Vivian’s will from her lawyer. Her will directed that if Vivian did not survive to receive her inheritance from Orvenia’s estate, then Vivian’s share should be divided up between her daughter Patricia, who would get 30 percent, the City of Erie, which would get 60 percent for some stated purposes, and the Erie County Animal Welfare Society, which would get 10 percent. Since you’re here and well on your way to satisfying the conditions in the will, none of this matters now, but it does indicate what Vivian’s priorities were.”

  Katherine nodded with a slight smile and flipped back two pages. “I see other people are receiving money.” She looked up, shocked. “Robert Colfax is receiving $200 thousand as well? Who’s he?”

  “Robert is your great uncle’s grandson. He’s seventy years old and lives in the city.”

  “I thought I was the only living relative,” she said, surprised.

  “Before William married your great aunt, he was married to a local woman. She passed away in 1931. They had two children: a son and a daughter. Their daughter was killed in a car accident when she was a teenager.”

  “Oh, how tragic. There’s so much I want to know about my family history.”

  “Talk to Carol. She’s a whiz on Erie history. Any more questions before I leave?” Mark asked, glancing at his watch.

  “Yes, one more. Could you call Monica DeSutter – Gary’s sister. It seems I’m to receive more money and I don’t want it.”

  “What’s with you?” Mark said incredulously. “You’re like a money magnet.”

  Katherine rolled her eyes. “I want the money to go to Gary’s family. He bought a life insurance policy on himself before he died and named me the beneficiary.”

  “How much?” Mark inquired.

  “$100 grand.”

  “Give me Monica’s number and I’ll take care of it.”

  Katherine extracted her cell phone from her back pocket and scrolled down her contacts list until she found Monica’s number. “Here,” she said, handing him the cell. Mark looked and entered the number in his BlackBerry.

  “If you don’t have any more questions or concerns . . .” Mark began. “Okay, I think that should do it.”

  “If I think of anything else, I’ll call or text you,” she said, getting up.

  “Listen, I’ve got an appointment back at the office,” he said, snapping his briefcase shut. “We’ll talk before you leave.” Mark put on his jacket and Katherine walked him to the door.

  Before Mark left, he said, “Oh, we’re supposed to be getting nasty weather later this afternoon. We’re under a severe thunderstorm watch until six p.m.”

  “Again?” Katherine asked. “What is it with Indiana and the weather mood swings?”

  “Nicely put,” he said, leaving. “Later,” he waved.

  Katherine closed the door and walked into the atrium. “Hey, cats of mine. More storms are coming our way.”

  Katherine heard loud thuds as Lilac and Abby jumped from their valance perch to the fireplace mantle to the floor. As if on cue, Scout and Iris marched into the room, with Abby and Lilac following their lead. “Yowl,” Iris yawned. “Chirp,” Abby said sleepily. “For starters,” Katherine explained, “we’re going to the kitchen for chunks of liver and chicken sautéed in a rich, creamy gravy straight from the can. Then we’re going to try out the new cat carriers I bought.”

  At the mention of food, the four cats trotted to the back of the house. Katherine was relieved they didn’t bolt when she mentioned the cat carriers. Hurrying after them, she quickly shut the doors to the connecting rooms. If there were going to be bad weather, she’d put two cats in each carrier and run them down to the basement.

  Chapter Two

  During the night, the thunderstorm grew intense. The wind howled around the hundred-year-old house, and the entire frame seemed to pop, crack and moan. The single-glazed windows rattled violently. Katherine worried they might shatter at any moment. Abby and Lilac cuddled close to Katherine and objected when she got up to check the weather app on her cell phone. She had mistakenly left the cell on the Eastlake table outside her room. She left the cats burrowed under the feather comforter. Scout and Iris were absent. Katherine assumed they were working the third shift night-watch job, which consisted of patrolling the house. She was eager to find them so she could lock them up in her bedroom, in case the tornado siren went off.

  Walking down the dark hall, she fumbled for the light switch. “Iris! Scout!” she called, then was shocked to hear footsteps overhead. “Dammit,” she said out loud. “You cats better not be up there!” she shouted. The two guilty Siamese flew down the attic stairs and shot down the hall. Katherine moved to shut the door, which was curiously open. The new security bar had been knocked to the floor. This has to be a new trick of Scout’s, she thought. Katherine hadn’t had time to call the city locksmith to install yet another lock. “Come back here, you two,” she beckoned.

  Scout and Iris thundered back, both covered with cobwebs and fine dust. Katherine grabbed Iris, then took her to the bathroom to clean her off. “Okay, Scout, you’re next,” she announced. She carried Iris to her bedroom to shut her in with Abby and Lilac.

  Scout ran to the back of the hall. Katherine quickly started after her, but stopped in her tracks. She could feel someone staring at her. A shadow crossed the hall into the guest room doorway. Scout’s tail was thumping violently from side-to-side. She growled deep in her throat.

  Katherine could feel the hairs rising on
the nape of her neck. “Who’s in there?” she demanded. In the bathroom, she grabbed a heavy bottle of hair conditioner to use as a weapon. Scout was stretched up full-length, jiggling the door handle with brown paws.

  “You’ve got five seconds to get the hell out of there,” Katherine threatened. After standing immobile outside the door for what seemed to be several minutes, she slowly opened it, then quickly switched on the overhead light. Scout dashed in and jumped on top of the ornate dresser.

  “Waugh,” the Siamese shrieked. She began to frantically groom herself. The fur on her back was raised, and her tail had brushed up three times its normal size.

  As Katherine walked in, a cold blast of air wafted past her. Hurriedly she checked the room, clutching the hair conditioner bottle and ready to do battle. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She checked the closet, then looked underneath the bed.

  “It’s okay, Scout,” she consoled. “I admit what just happened was creepy as hell. I’ll be sure to tell our ghost hunter friend about this.”

  “Ma-waugh,” Scout agreed.

  Still gazing under the bed, Katherine asked, “What’s this?” She pulled out an old shoe box with half the lid torn off; the other half bore multiple fang marks. Scout leaped down and tried to get inside the box.

  “Nope, not happening,” she said, removing the cat. Inside the box she found brown, weathered pages from some kind of ledger. The writing was faded, but seemed to be an accounting of sold inventory. Printed on each page was the year 1929. Underneath the pages was a prescription pad with Dr. Harvey Smith printed at the top, address 201 Main Street, Erie, Indiana. But what interested her most was a box of foil labels with Colfax Medicinal Elixir stamped on them.

  “Interesting,” she said. “What’s an elixir? Now I know where Iris has been getting this paper. What have we come across, magic cat?” Katherine asked. She placed the documents back in the box, put them on the dresser, then gently picked up Scout and took her to the bedroom. She tried to soothe the frightened Siamese, but Scout was more interested in looking out the window at the lightning as it danced across the sky.

  “It’s just a storm,” Katherine said comfortingly.

  Katherine checked the Doppler radar on her cell phone and was relieved that the storm would be ending soon. She sent Colleen a text.

  “Weird ghostly experience complete with cold air passing through me.”

  She didn’t expect an answer, but the phone immediately pinged a return message. “Where did it happen?” Colleen asked.

  “In the guest room where you stayed.”

  “Sounds like a ghost.”

  “Hope not. Not liking living alone in this house.”

  “Bringing all my equipment next time.”

  “Cool,” Katherine texted, then “Good night!”

  The house is so drafty, I’m sure the wind blew the door closed,” Katherine reasoned. A loud, thunder clap rocked the room. Katherine and Scout dove under the covers, joining the other three who were cowering at the foot of the bed.

  Katherine sneezed, “Scout, I forgot to wipe you off.”

  “Waugh,” Scout protested.

  “Okay, it can wait till tomorrow.”

  * * *

  Early the next morning, Katherine was packing for her trip to Manhattan when the front doorbell clanged. She sprinted downstairs with four inquisitive cats following behind her. Peeking out the front door’s side light, she saw two women standing outside; one of them was holding a large floral arrangement in a colorful basket. She recognized the woman as the Little Tomato owner, Carol Lombard. Opening the door, she said, “Hi, Carol. Come in.”

  “Miss Colfax,” said the other woman, whose snow-white hair was pulled back in a tight bun. “We’re members of the town’s historical society. I’m the president this year; Carol is our treasurer. We were friends of Orvenia; she was a member of the board for a number of years.”

  “It seems every day I learn something new about my great aunt,” Katherine said. “Allow me to take your coats. Will it ever stop raining?” Katherine guided them inside, while making small talk.

  “Katherine,” Carol began, “Allow me to introduce you to Beatrice Baker.”

  Smiling at Beatrice, Katherine said, “I’m pleased to meet you, but my last name isn’t Colfax. It’s Kendall. My friends call me Katz.” Holding their rain gear, Katherine started to hang the coats on the Eastlake hall tree, but stopped when she noticed Iris crouched behind it. Iris seemed annoyed that Katherine had found her hiding place. Katherine grinned and hung the raincoats anyway.

  In the atrium, the women gazed in awe at the hand-carved oak acorns hanging from brass chains over the closed pocket doors. “I must apologize,” Carol said, “but we’re always speechless when we come into this house.”

  Beatrice peered down, over her glasses. “Oh, yes, the William Colfax house is the finest in our area.”

  Katherine motioned them into the parlor, and they all sat down. She asked Beatrice, “I’m curious. Why do you call the mansion the ‘William Colfax house,’ when my great aunt Orvenia lived here for decades?”

  “Well,” Beatrice began, “Once a house has been named, the name doesn’t change. Just the people who live in it.”

  “Interesting,” Katherine said curiously.

  Carol proudly announced, “We want to welcome you to Erie. Our local florist made this arrangement especially for you.” She handed the basket to Katherine.

  “It’s beautiful, but I have to ask. Are these silk flowers?” Katherine questioned, setting the arrangement on a side table.

  Carol nodded.

  “My cats aren’t very kind to live plants,” Katherine said, tongue-in-cheek, remembering how Abby had destroyed the potted plants.

  “Cats?” Beatrice asked apprehensively, nervously glancing around the room. “Well,” she began, then paused, “I’m not a cat person. It’s not that I don’t like them, but they don’t like me.”

  After Beatrice spoke, Lilac and Abby leaned over the edge of the window valance, their heads inclined downward like vultures surveying carrion on the ground below.

  Beatrice continued, “We’re so sorry to hear about your aunt’s passing.”

  “My great aunt,” Katherine corrected. “Great Aunt Orvenia was my mother’s aunt.”

  “And your people are from New York?” Beatrice asked. “I do my Christmas shopping in Manhattan. I simply love Lord & Taylor’s and Macy’s.”

  From the corner of her eye, Katherine could see the faint outline of a cat slinking into the room. “Yes, my family is from Brooklyn. Actually, I’ll be in New York myself. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  “Oh, how fun,” Carol said. “Mark said that he spoke to you about putting your great aunt’s personal documents in the museum –”

  Katherine interrupted, “What museum? I didn’t know Erie had one.”

  “Oh, yes,” Carol said happily. “Between the money Orvenia left the society and various donations, Erie is going to have a brand new museum. There’ll be a section devoted to your great uncle and great aunt.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Katherine remarked. “My great aunt left lots of stuff. The attic is chock full of it. She was a regular pack rat. She also stored things underneath the antique beds.”

  “Oh, really?” Beatrice asked, leaning forward with sudden interest. “What kind of things?”

  “Last night I found a shoe box full of my great uncle’s papers.”

  “Like what?” Carol asked. “Letters? Diaries?”

  “So far nothing like that.”

  Iris planted herself behind the unsuspecting Beatrice’s chair, then stretched out a slender paw and extracted something from the woman’s purse.

  “No,” Katherine commanded. “Put that down.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Beatrice said defensively.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you. I was talking to my Siamese, Iris. She’s a bit of a thief.”

  “What Siamese?” Beatrice asked uneasily.<
br />
  Iris galloped out of the room, clutching a small leather coin purse in her teeth.

  Katherine lunged out of her chair and chased the Siamese. “Bring that back!” Iris reluctantly put the stolen prize down, then shot up the stairs. On the top step, she bellowed a loud yowl.

  When Katherine stooped down to pick up the coin purse, several gold coins fell out and bounced on the inlaid parquet floor.

  The historical society women hastily joined Katherine in the atrium. “We really must go,” Carol announced. Before Katherine could pick up the coins, Beatrice snatched them and quickly put them in her pocket.

  “What unusual coins,” Katherine said admiringly. “Are they gold?”

  “No,” Carol replied in a clipped voice. She threw a dirty look at Beatrice.

  “Just my lucky charms,” Beatrice said, her voice quavering. “Can I have my coin purse?”

  “Oh, of course,” Katherine said, handing it to Beatrice. “I’ll get your coats.” She wondered what prompted the women’s sudden desire to leave.

  Scout ran to the center of the room and threw herself down. She began rolling back and forth. Her eyes were crossed and part of her pink tongue was sticking out.

  “What’s wrong with that cat?” Carol asked, concerned.

  “Okay, I surrender!” Katherine chuckled.

  “Surrender to whom?” Beatrice asked. Both Carol and Beatrice shot her quizzical glances, as if she were talking to an invisible rabbit.

  Handing the women their raincoats, Katherine said, “I must apologize for my cats. This is their version of the Hunger Games. They’re telling me to feed them.”

  “Oh,” Carol said smugly. “We really do wish you a warm Erie welcome.”

  “Thank you. You’re very kind. And, thank the florist for such a beautiful arrangement. I absolutely love it!”

  Beatrice made a dash to the door and flung it open. Carol followed. They hurried out without saying good-bye. Katherine rushed to the door to close it before one of the cats slipped out. The two women seemed to be arguing about something, but Katherine couldn’t hear. Shutting the door, she turned to find four felines sitting at attention on the atrium’s oriental rug.