The Cats that Played the Market (The Cats that . . . Cozy Mystery Book 4) (10 page)

“Interesting,” Katherine said. “Just curious. Who’s the treasurer?”

“Robbie Brentwood,” Margie answered, then changing the subject said, “See the display cases? I found them at a salvage store in Indy. They’re original from the 1920s. The wood is oak.”

The small building was wall-to-wall with display cases of various widths and heights placed against the wall. Large print placards or photo posters were mounted above. Margie continued, “The floor was in terrible shape, so I put down a laminate that looks like hardwood. It will be easier to maintain and handle foot traffic.”

“Margie, you did an incredible job,” Mark Dunn congratulated as he approached. On his arm was a stunning blond, long-haired with big blue-violet eyes. She was dressed in a low-cut red dress. Katherine recognized her immediately. It was Linda Martin, the Indiana state police detective who helped solve the William Colfax bootlegging mystery. Katherine had only seen her in uniform or in casual clothes. Normally, she wore her hair tied back with little cosmetics. But tonight she looked like a runway model.

“Hello. You’ve met Linda,” Mark said cheerfully.

“Yes, of course.” Katherine pulled Linda aside and said, “You look spectacular!”

Linda whispered, “Mark called me last night and asked me to join him, and I said ‘yes.’ I borrowed this dress from my roommate. Fortunately, we’re the same size.”

“Lucky you. It’s perfect.” Then to Mark, “Have you started working at the new firm?”

“I start on Monday. My office here is officially closed. I think Robbie Brentwood is going to rent it.”

“I’m very happy for you.”

“Katz, you know how to find me if you need me. Just call, text or whatever.”

After Mark and Linda moved away, Jake took Katherine’s arm. He led her to the first display case which housed items from the 1840s, when the town of Erie was founded. Above the glass case was a framed poster describing the importance of the Erie canal and the town’s early economy. The next display case was full of photos from the tornado of 1909, which wiped out several downtown businesses. But the most popular display, and where the most people were gathered, was the William Colfax exhibit. Since there was so much material, Margie had used a separate, smaller room for that exhibit. Margie was standing near the entryway.

Katherine stopped in her tracks. There, right in front of her, was the speakeasy door from the yellow brick house. Margie caught her eye and winked.

“Margie, I can’t believe how you restored this. It looks brand new.”

“Trust me. It took lots of varnish remover and a light sanding, but isn’t she a beauty?” Margie took Katherine by the arm and led her inside the William Colfax exhibit. The small room was lined with more display cases, blown-up posters of both William’s and Orvenia’s portraits, and a large framed picture of the pink mansion circa 1911.

“Emily Bradworth did a wonderful job,” Katherine said. She then told Margie about how Lilac almost thwarted the young graphic artist’s efforts to photograph the portraits.

Margie whispered, “She hangs out here a lot. I don’t know what she sees in that Robbie guy.”

Katherine shrugged. “Love is blind!”

Several mannequins in the corner wore vintage dresses from Orvenia’s collection: one figure wore a beaded flapper dress from the 1920s, and the other sported a 1950s party dress, complete with a full skirt.

For security reasons, none of the gold coins found at the Ethel cemetery were exhibited, because they had been sold to a wealthy coin collector. Several of the bootlegging bottles were included, along with William’s ledger and the money bag from the Greencastle Dillinger bank robbery. Katherine had the final word in where it should go, and chose to keep it in Erie.

More guests filtered into the room, so Margie and Katherine went back outside. A woman in a short, silver-sequined cocktail dress came over and introduced herself as the high school principal, Julie Miller. She asked Margie, “Where’s Robbie? He’s the curator, for heaven’s sake. What happened to him?”

“I have no idea,” Margie answered. “After the fundraiser, I came over here for a few minutes to drop off something. He was here with Emily and you.”

Julie’s face clouded immediately. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t seen Robbie since yesterday,” she said, with anger rising in her voice.

“I beg to differ,” Margie said defensively. “It was either you or your clone.”

“If you see him, send him my way.” Julie walked away with a tight-lipped expression.

Margie whispered in Katz’s ear. “Want to hear some Erie gossip?”

Katherine smiled. “Sure. Why not?”

“Julie’s having an affair with Robbie. It’s all over town. Her husband found out and threatened to kill Robbie if he didn’t leave his wife alone.”

“What?” Katherine asked, puzzled.

“You want me to repeat it, kiddo?” Margie offered.

“Emily Bradworth told me the two of them were getting married, and that Robbie was going to announce it tonight.”

“That’s a good one,” Margie said, surprised.

“If he’s seeing Julie, he really is a jerk.”

“Why?”

“Because that poor naïve girl moved to Erie to be with him.”

“Naïve?” Margie laughed. “You mean crazy. What person in their right mind would want to move to Erie? Oops, I didn’t mean you, Katz.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Jake said, moving over.

“That men are good,” Katherine smiled.

“You lie,” he said. Then he whispered in her ear, “But you’re a gorgeous liar.”

She punched him affectionately on the arm.

As the evening wore on, the financial advisor/volunteer curator/cake auctioneer and apparent philanderer was an obvious “no show.”

Later, Russell Krow caught Katherine coming out of the ladies room and said, “We meet again.”

“Hello,” she said to the handsome reporter. “Did you just get here? I didn’t see you earlier.” Katherine hoped he wouldn’t interpret her last comment as an expression of interest.

“I’m just here to take a few pics for the paper. Then I have a deadline to meet.”

“Reporter
and
photographer,” she commented. “Cool.”

“I’m late because I’m also a wedding photographer. I just got back from the city. You wouldn’t know of anyone who is getting married and wants a photographer?”

“Can’t think of anyone,” Katherine answered, inching away and discretely looking for Jake to rescue her, but he was busy talking to the doctor and her husband.

“I’m new to the Erie beat and I don’t know very many people. I hear you just moved from New York City. I do hope we can meet for lunch soon.”

“Of course,” she said with one foot poised to make her escape.

Russell continued, “I just started an Erie Community web page. Pictures that don’t make the newspaper will be posted on the website. I took some wonderful pics at the fundraiser today. You’ve got to check them out.”

“I will.”

The mayor made a dash over and tapped Russell on the shoulder. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about . . . ”

Katherine made her exit to find Jake, who was now looking for her.

“There you are,” he said, holding a plate. “They just brought out these appetizers. Do you want to try one?” He had an ornery grin on his face.

Katherine glanced at his plate loaded with puffy cheese bites. “Let me guess. Baked by Vicky the caterer and they explode at will. I’ll pass.” She remembered her Halloween party and how the appetizers seemed to have it out for her.

The museum event was a big success. Margie received lots of compliments. Guests asked Katherine countless questions about the Colfax exhibit. In between glasses of champagne, Katherine’s head began to spin. She grew tired of answering the same questions about her bootlegging great uncle, and was thankful when Jake came to her rescue. He was a godsend. In his true history-professor fashion, he explained Prohibition and how important bootlegging was to the Erie economy. He was in his element and enjoying it immensely. The evening was a happy occasion — a fun mix of people, holiday cheer, an open bar, and savory appetizers.

A few minutes after eleven, Julie Miller — screaming at the top of her lungs — ran from the back of the museum to the main room. “Help! Someone’s murdered Robbie. He’s dead!”

Mayor Newman said firmly, “Julie, calm down. Where’s Robbie?”

Julie sobbed, “In the utility closet by the kitchen. He did it!” She shook an accusing finger toward the rear.

“Who did it?” the mayor asked as he headed to the back of the museum.

“Cokey Cokenberger! He killed Robbie.” The distraught woman collapsed to the floor and cried, “My Robbie . . . no, not my Robbie.”

Her husband Nick came to her side. “Get up! You’re causing a scene.”

All eyes turned from Julie to Margie. “That’s a lie,” Margie said. “Cokey’s home with our kids.”

“You don’t call my wife a liar,” Nick threatened.

“Okay, Nick, relax,” Jake barked, rushing over to stand between the irate Nick and his aunt Margie.

Detective Linda Martin called after the mayor. “Don’t touch anything. I’m getting Chief London over here ASAP.” She yanked her cell out of her evening bag and joined the mayor outside the utility room. Katherine, Jake and Margie followed her. The mayor moved to the front of the hallway and with the help of Mark, formed a barrier so none of the other guests could approach the area.

Jake and Margie walked into the kitchen. Through the utility room door, and looking over Detective Martin’s shoulder, Katherine could see a very dead Robbie. He had been stabbed repeatedly. Strangely, there was blood on his white shirt, but only a few splatters on the floor. They could see a partial shoeprint on one of the blood spots. A knife lay nearby. Someone had crudely stuffed dollar bills in his mouth. The inside of Robbie’s shirt was stuffed with them as well. A colorful Hawaiian necktie was knotted tightly around his neck. It wasn’t clear what had killed him — the stab wounds, or strangulation.

Detective Martin visually examined Robbie through the doorway and confirmed he was dead. “Folks, this is now a crime scene.”

The mayor announced to the group. “We’re sorry for Robbie’s loss, but please everyone stay put until the chief gets here.”

“Why can’t we leave?” Nick said defiantly.

Katherine rushed to the kitchen.

Margie whispered urgently to Jake and Katherine, “We need to go — now!”

Jake directed them to the back entrance off the kitchen. As they rushed out of the museum, they could hear Detective Martin address the guests, “No one leaves until the police have interviewed you.”

Chapter Six

As she left the museum building, Katherine tried to run in her Gucci pumps but slid on a patch of ice and fell into a snowdrift. Margie was already at the car and didn’t see the accident. She yelled, “Jake, hurry up, you’ve got to get me home as soon as possible.”

Jake rushed to Katherine’s side. “Are you okay?” he asked, helping her up. “Do you think you broke anything?”

“Only my vanity,” Katherine said, embarrassed. “I can’t run in my new shoes.”

Jake picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. “I’ll carry you, baby doll.”

Shivering, she said, “I left my coat.”

“I’ll get it tomorrow,” Jake answered, setting her down. “Here, wear my suit jacket.” He hurriedly took it off and draped it over Katherine’s shoulders.

Once they were in the car, Jake floored the accelerator and took Margie home. Parking in front of the house, he had barely stopped the car when Margie jumped out and ran up the front walk. Ten-year-old Shelly was standing on the porch in her pajamas, and was crying her head off.

Jake and Katherine got out and met each other on the sidewalk.

“Daddy’s hurt,” Shelly cried. “He’s bleeding.”

“Shelly, sweetie, what happened?” Margie asked.

The girl sobbed some more. “He went to get pizza and when he got home he was bleeding. Mommy, you’ve got to help him.”

Jake looked at Katherine with concern.

Margie rushed into the house, “Cokey?”

Tommy was nearby holding a large, plump orange cat. “Dad’s locked up in the bathroom. He won’t open the door.”

“What the hell,” Margie muttered under her breath. Shelly continued sobbing. “Shelly, it’s okay. Mommy’s home. I’ll go check on Daddy.”

Jake hurried down the hall, saying, “Listen, I’ll try and coax him out.”

“I don’t know why he’s acting like this,” Margie said, stunned. She raced past Jake and pounded on the bathroom door, “Cokey, let me in.”

Cokey slowly opened the door with a fresh bandage on his hand.

“What’s going on?” Margie demanded.

“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“What do you mean?”

“I went to the museum —”

“Why?”

“You left your cell phone on the dresser so I told the kids I’d drop it off after I picked up the pizza. I didn’t want anyone to see me in my ratty jacket and jeans when everyone was dressed up, so I used the museum’s back door.”