Free The Cats that Stole a Million (The Cats that . . . Cozy Mystery Book 7) by Karen Anne Golden

Then with one hard whack of her paw, she batted it to the floor. 
    Finally, Iris let go of the necklace, and yowled sweetly.  “Thank you, Miss Siam,” Katherine said affectionately.  “Chief, was the necklace in your pocket, your jacket pocket, or in that bag you brought in?”
    He retrieved his cell and laughed.  “I brought it in the shopping bag.  Your cats are pretty darn smart, but speaking as a lawman, I suggest you never take them into a store.”
    Katherine giggled.  “After Lilac destroyed the cakes at the bake sale, I doubt I’ll ever take my cats to another public place.  Thank you so much for returning it.  I thought I’d never see it again.”
    The chief looked at his watch.  “Gotta get goin’.”
    “Me, too,” Margie seconded, “but first I want another chocolate.” 
    “Have two or three,” Katherine suggested.
    Margie hung around until the chief left.  “Listen kiddo, when you’re buying furniture, order a bedroom set for a young girl about thirteen-years-old.”
    “Why?” Katherine asked, wondering what else Margie knew about Stevie Sanders.
    “He has a daughter.  I didn’t want to say it in front of the chief because he probably thinks I’m a busybody, but with Darlene dead, Stevie will have custody.  In fact, I heard he didn’t go to Kentucky to check on his ex-wife.  He drove down to get his daughter.”
    “Wow.  I didn’t have a clue. Why hasn’t anyone told me before?”
    “Mayhaps, it never came up in conversation?”
    Katherine didn’t answer, but thought, Why hasn’t Jake told me about it?  Did he know?   Then shifted the subject, “I wouldn’t have a clue what to buy a girl of thirteen.  Can you do me a favor?”
    “Sure,” Margie said, popping another chocolate in her mouth.
    “Can you go to the furniture website and get Shelly’s opinion?  She’s close in age to Stevie’s daughter.  Maybe Shelly can come up with something a teen would like.”
    “Gotcha,” Margie said, walking out the door. 
    “See ya,” Katherine said, borrowing one of the sayings Jake used. 
    *     *     *
    After the committee disbanded and Margie left, Katherine walked into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.  As she filled the kettle, the doorbell blared its angry alarm. “One of them must have forgotten something,” she surmised out loud. “Dewey,” she called.  “It’s okay.” 
    The kitten was en route to the kitchen, did a dead stop, and then sprung for Katherine’s desk.  Landing on the keyboard, he quickly caught his balance and sprung off, leaving the keyboard dangling precariously over the edge. 
    Katherine righted the keyboard and mouse, then was curious about what was displayed on the computer screen:  a sparkling diamond glistened on the display.  I know Jake couldn’t have surfed this up , she thought . I’ve got enough jewelry from Jake to last me a lifetime. But why would the cats?
    The doorbell sounded again. 
    “All right, already,” she called, annoyed.  Walking through the living room, she discovered Dewey had catapulted off the coffee table and knocked down the box of chocolates.  Various-sized confections were strewn across the floor.  Katherine knew chocolate wasn’t good for cats, so she closed the pocket door behind her. She’d clean up the mess later.
    “I’ll be right there,” she said loudly to the front door, in an effort to make the person outside stop ringing the bell.  Rushing to answer, she stopped to peek out the sidelight. She didn’t recognize the woman, who wore a full-length mink coat.  Wisps of blond hair stuck out from her matching fur hat.  She rang again.
    “May I help you?” Katherine said through the glassed sidelight.
    “Katz, is that you? It’s me, Madison.  Let me in.  I’m turning blue.”
    Katherine hurriedly opened the door.  “Madison?” she said in a surprised voice.  “What on earth are you doing here?  Come in, before you freeze to death.”
    The two childhood