“I know what it means,” she said. “But if I give money to deserving charities, or to people in general, I’ll do it anonymously, so how can they mooch off of me?”
“I’ll give you an example. Several years ago a prominent celebrity bought a town that was suffering from an economic reversal. His intent was to help the town get back on its feet financially. Instead this is what happened: No one in the town wanted to work. They could care less about improving the town. They just wanted to mooch off their benefactor and—”
“The suspense is killing me. What happened in the end?” Katherine interrupted.
“The celebrity went bankrupt because of his good deed.”
“Okay, I get the picture,” Katherine said rather abruptly, as she got up. “I’ll do my homework tonight and study this spreadsheet. Although it won’t be easy, I’ll email you an updated list.” She was unhappy, but wanted to put on a pleasant face for the attorney who had just burst her good-will bubble. She headed for the door, then turned around. “I appreciate your frankness. Thanks, and I’ll talk to you later.”
Chapter Two
After the appointment, Katherine drove through Erie. The downtown district covered only four blocks. The buildings were made of brick, and housed antique stores, a bank, law and insurance offices, and the Erie Hotel. It was a far cry from Brooklyn, where Katherine had grown up. No noisy overhead subway line booming every few minutes. No city smells, hustle or bustle, or cars honking. She drove home and parked under the carport. She slowly walked to the front of the house and marveled at how beautiful it was. The mansion was built in an era where fine craftsmanship reigned.
The previous December, Katherine had been so traumatized by having to shoot Patricia Marston, she thought of moving from the pink mansion and turning it into a museum/gift shop. But with the help of a grief counselor, she was getting back on her feet and planned to live in the Queen Anne Victorian for a long time.
Climbing up the steps, Katherine headed to the porch swing to wait for the counselor to arrive. Today was their last session. After a few minutes, the counselor zipped in front of the house and parked her blue Ford Fiesta. She leapt out of the car and raced up the sidewalk. “Katz, hello! I’m having the most grandest day! How about you?”
Sally Marvel—grief counselor extraordinaire—was short and in her early forties, with a mane of long, blond curly hair. She was dressed flamboyantly in a brightly colored dress. She was always effervescent, bubbly and positive. Katherine loved her.
Last December, after the fatal shooting, Katherine had become depressed and morose. Her friend, Detective Linda Martin, recommended that Sally come to the pink mansion to provide weekly counseling sessions. Sally worked for both the police department and the local high school. Sally insisted that their sessions occur in the very room where Katherine took the life of another human being. Although Jake and the cats tried to help her work through the disturbing issues, it took a professional like Sally to truly pull her out of it.
“Hi, Sally. Yes, it’s a grand day. Come in. I’ll get us some iced tea. Want lemon in yours?”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Katherine held the door for her. “Since this is our last time together, can we sit in the parlor?”
“No, my dear, being in the room where the shooting happened, and being able to associate the space with other memories, has been the best part of your recovery. I’ll see you in a second.” Sally opened the pocket door to the living room and walked in. She found a seat on the famous wingback chair—one of the few original pieces of furniture that remained in the room.
A few minutes later, Katherine returned with iced tea in a blue retro aluminum pitcher; beads of condensation had already formed and ran down its side. Two matching metallic tumblers were brightly colored in blue and red. She set the pitcher down on a glass-topped table. After pouring the drinks and handing one to Sally, Katherine said, “I’m thinking about taking a mini vacation, by myself. I’ve decided against going to Savannah with Jake. I haven’t told him yet. You’re the first to know.”
Sally knew the details of the upcoming trip. Jake was a history professor at the city university, and was presenting a paper while attending a conference in Savannah. He’d asked Katherine to go with him.
Katherine sat on a white faux-leather sofa; she sank into the plush cushion. Lilac and Abby jumped up and cuddled in their cozy cat bed next to her.
Sally asked, “Is this something we should talk about?”
“Yes, I think it would be helpful.” Katherine unconsciously looked at the site where Jake had been shot. Previously the oak floor was partially covered with imported oriental rugs. Now it had modern wall-to-wall, cut-pile carpeting. “I want to go, but I think that Jake and I need some time away from each other. He’s pressing me to sign a prenuptial agreement his attorney drafted, and I’m dragging my feet.”
“Katz, I don’t really have much knowledge about such things, but isn’t it pretty much standard procedure for couples who have a great deal of money to enter into a prenup?”
“If our marriage ends in divorce, Jake doesn’t want a penny of my fortune.”
“Have you discussed this with him?”
“Yes, but the conversation always ends with Jake’s plea for me to sign it. That’s one aspect. The other involves his mother, Cora. She can be very overbearing at times, and she’s trying to force her ideas on me about the wedding.”
“Wedding?” Sally asked. “Have you two set the date?”
“No, we haven’t. So you see, I just want to get away for a few days.”
“Where are you going?” Sally asked, taking a sip of her tea.
“I rented a cabin south of here. It’s on a pond. I thought I’d take a few books and get back with nature. No cell, texting, or computer—just a few peaceful days to reflect on my life.” Katherine smiled.
“Katz, it’s good to see you smiling. Are you taking the cats?”
“Surprisingly, no.”
Lilac woke up and me-yowled loudly.
“Okay, Lilac, can we keep this our secret?”
“Me-yowl,” which sounded like a ‘no.’ Lilac got up, jumped to the floor, stretched, then left the room. Abby raised her paw over the cozy and patted Katherine on the arm.
“Abigail, you’re such a sweet girl.”
Sally laughed. “I think your cats understand English.”
Katherine’s smile widened in agreement.
Sally grew serious. “Katz, in the last few years, you’ve had many stressful events in your life. You’ve lost both of your parents. You’ve inherited a fortune, moved from a Manhattan apartment to a Victorian mansion in a small town. I know life hasn’t been easy for you—your ex-fiancé’s murder in your basement, discovering Vivian Marston’s body, and the fatal shooting of Patricia. These kinds of stress clusters would take an emotional toll on anyone, but I’ve seen you cope with each and every one of them. When I first met you, you felt so guilty, you couldn’t even laugh.”
Katherine noted, “I’ll always feel guilty, but I’m not going to let what happened consume my life. In your words, all of that is ‘water under the bridge.’”
“So, are you comfortable being in this room?” Sally asked.
“Yes, most of the time. Jake and the cats make it okay. We have movie nights in here, just like old times, when I first started dating Jake. My cats are sensitive creatures. If the room wasn’t okay, they’d let me know if the ghost of Patricia Marston haunts the place.”
“That’s not what I meant. Are you comfortable sitting in here without thinking about the traumatic events of that day?”
“I have to admit, it’s not my favorite room.”
“That’s normal, Katz, but getting back to your reference to Patricia Marston’s ghost haunting you. Do you think she haunts the room?”
“No, but whenever Colleen, my spirit-hunting friend, comes over, I won’t let her in here.”
“Why is that?”
“Because she’d bring her equipment and try to conjure up Patricia so she could communicate with her. Who wants that? Patricia Marston, who tried to kill the love of my life, is where she belongs—in hell,” Katherine said a little too forcibly.
“A little bit of anger is a good sign. Are you feeling more angry since our last visit?”
Katherine finally poured herself a glass of tea and took several sips. “No, not at all.”
“Is there anything else you want to talk to me about?”
“Can’t think of anything.”
“Well, that about wraps things up. Katz, if there ever is a time when you need to talk to me, I’m available twenty-four/seven.” Sally got up and grabbed her bag. “Thank you so much for the tea, and have fun on your cabin retreat.”
Katherine escorted Sally to the door. “Thank you. I appreciate everything you have done for me. Take care now.” She shut the door and sighed with relief. “I am so glad that’s over,” she said out loud. “No more rehashing the worst thing that ever happened to me. Cats? Where’s my cats? I need a group hug.”
Scout and Abra joined her in the atrium. “Ma-waugh,” Scout cried in agreement.
Katherine sat down on the floor and drew Scout and Abra close. She kissed them on the head. “I love you girls.”
* * *
The newly formed Kendall Foundation Board was having its first meeting in the dining room. Katherine had deliberately shut the door to the kitchen so the cats wouldn’t interrupt the meeting. Scout, Abra and Iris stood on the other side of the door and took turns jiggling the doorknob, pawing the door and throwing themselves against it.
“No, you cannot come in!” Katherine said sternly. The doorbell rang so she moved to answer it. Chief London had just arrived with Margie Cokenberger. “Come in,” Katherine said, directing them to the dining room.
“Thanks for arranging a time around my work schedule,” the chief began. “I’m training a new officer and it’s been very hectic down at the station.”
“I thought you were saving that position for me,” Katherine joked. The chief had asked her several times to join the force or be a consultant.
“Hey, kiddo,” Margie said.
“Hi, Margie. How are you this fine day?”
“I’m so tired. I’ve been working on this old house on Mercer Street. It’s got a lot of oak interior doors covered with layers of paint. Each one has to be stripped and re-stained.” Margie was an ace at restoring old houses.
“Everyone have a seat. We can begin.” Katherine passed several documents around the table.
The chief said curiously, “So, this is it? Three people? I thought there was a fourth person.”
Katherine’s face reddened. “There was, but he later declined.” Katherine referred to Jake’s refusal to serve on the board for various reasons, none of which made any sense to her.
Margie gave a knowing look, but didn’t say anything. Katherine made a mental note to ask her later.
The cats on the other side of the door began hissing and fighting. A tremendous crash came from the kitchen.
“Excuse me,” Katherine said, getting up and heading to the door.
Margie said, “Katz, they’re really duking it out over there.”
Chief added, “Just let them in. They won’t bother us.”
Katherine knew from experience that there was nothing more annoying to a cat than being locked behind a closed door with its human on the other side. In Katherine’s case, it was several cats conspiring to get over.
She opened the door and waded through excited felines. Her retro aluminum pitcher had been knocked off the counter, and had rolled to a stop in front of the refrigerator. While Katherine put the pitcher back on the counter, Scout led the group of five miscreants into the dining room.
The chief said, amused, “Talk about premeditation. I see the big brown one is the ringleader.”
Katherine grinned. “That’s Scout. You met her once during unpleasant circumstances.”
The chief tugged his beard as he remembered the Vivian Marston murder case. “Yeah, I thought your cat had rabies.”
Katherine shrugged off the bad memory and continued to introduce the rest of the cats. Lilac and Abby sprang to the table, stretched up to full height, then effortlessly leaped on top of the china hutch.
“Whoosh,” Margie said, looking overhead. “My cat, Spitty, is too fat to do that.”
“Okay, that’s two out of our way,” Katherine said, looking up at Lilac and Abby. Iris slinked behind Chief London’s chair and looked suspiciously at his back pocket. Katherine gave her a look of, ‘Don’t even think about it.’ Iris sassed back a loud ‘yowl.’
“Waugh,” Scout scolded Iris, who retreated to the dining room corner. Scout sprang up to one of the Eastlake side chairs pushed up against the wainscoting; Abra joined her.
Katherine glanced at her watch. “Let’s begin with the obvious. I’ve inherited a fortune. I cannot fathom having all of this money. Plain and simple—I want to get rid of some of it.”
The chief and Margie looked at Katherine with rapt attention.
The chief joked, “I can think about what I’d do with millions of dollars. I’d blow this Popsicle stand in a second. Buy me a beach-front home in Malibu. Sit around in luxury with my wife, drinkin’ a Mai Tai.”
“That sounds like a great dream,” Katherine said, pulling an envelope out of a manila folder. She slid the envelope over to the chief.
“What’s this?” he asked curiously.
“Open it,” Katherine said.
“Okay,” he said, slitting the seal. He extracted a computer printout of a vacation resort hotel in Hawaii, along with two prepaid airline tickets. His jaw dropped open, “What the heck?”
“Little birdie told me you and the wife needed a little vacation. Two weeks. You pick the dates.”
“Oh, Katz, I can’t accept this,” the chief pleaded.
“It’s not from me. Read the address on the back of the envelope.”
“The Kendall cats.” The chief emitted a laugh, punctuated with short snorts. “Thank you.”
Scout answered, “Ma-waugh.”
Everyone at the table laughed.
Katherine looked at Margie. “Two little birdies told me you’d be needing a vacation, too.”
Margie’s eyes grew big. “Katz, what have you up and done?”
“The Kendall cats consulted with Tommy and Shelly. Your kids voted for a trip down south.” Katherine slid an envelope to Margie.
Margie slowly opened it. It was a rare treat when Cokey and she could find the time to go on vacation, but with the kids out of school, it would be the perfect time. “Bless your heart! Disney World. We’ll be stayin’ right there at the theme park. Oh, my goodness. Itineraries, boarding passes, and tickets to the parks,” she said excitedly. She jumped out of her seat and rushed over and hugged Katherine. “I love you, kiddo. Thanks so much.” Returning to her seat, she said to the felines, “Oh, I love you, too. Thank you, cats.”
Katherine said happily, “Both of you are quite welcome, so now let’s begin the meeting. Because I don’t know many people in the town, I’d like the two of you to be my Erie pulse. I want to know where my money will do the most good in helping people who find themselves in distress. Who gets it, and how? I’ve lived in Erie long enough to know that people don’t always take kindly to charity, so we have to discover ways of finding those who truly deserve help, and weed out potential moochers.”
The chief chuckled. “Moochers. I like that word.”
“Katz, I have a few ideas of my own,” Margie said. “There’s some really poor people who live in Erie. Most of them can’t afford to heat their homes in the winter, so they resort to burning logs in their fireplaces—that is, if they are lucky to have a fireplace—or use kerosene heaters. I don’t know if you are aware about the dangers of kerosene, but it’s one of the most explosive fuels on this planet.”
The chief interjected, “I think Margie is referri
ng to the houses down by the tracks. The Smiths have six children, ranging in ages from two to twelve. I know about them because the kid’s father, Kyle, has been in and out of trouble with the law for years. Right now he’s under house arrest for being a habitual DUI driver. He stays at home with the kids while his wife, Debbie, works at the diner.”
Katherine said, “I don’t know a Debbie at the diner.”
“That’s because she works in the kitchen. She’s the cook’s helper—assistant, or whatever.”
“How can my fortune help—?”
Margie finished the sentence, “—without it seeming like charity.”
The chief said, “Debbie needs a car—one that will accommodate her family. Last winter, I’d see her walking to the diner in a foot of snow. That’s a good mile. I’d pick her up sometimes and take her to wherever she needed to go; so did my officers, but we can’t be there for her all the time.”
Katherine smiled. “Poor soul. She must be exhausted before she even makes it to the workplace. Chief, I like your idea. I’ll buy her a minivan and have it delivered. I want to do this as an anonymous donation.”
“Anonymous because of the moocher factor,” the Chief laughed.
“When you get a chance, I need a list of the needy from you two. Personally, I’ll have great fun with this, so I need a name a month.”
Margie offered, “Many of the needy are not computer savvy to apply for government help. My friend Susan’s mother has dementia, and needs to be placed in a nursing home. She doesn’t have any money, so Susan was at a loss about how to go about it. There are agency offices, but you have to have a lot of documentation to prove who you are. Much of this information is on the Internet. Susan doesn’t know how to use the computer.”
Katherine thought for a moment. “Because I’m still doing my computer training course, maybe I can come up with an idea of paid processors to help the elderly and their children find the help they need.”
Margie smiled. “I think that’s a fantastic idea.”
Katherine smiled. “And, my crowning achievement—drum roll, please—the animal rescue center should be finished in early October.”
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