Read Online The Cats that Played the Market (The Cats that . . . Cozy Mystery Book 4) by Karen Anne Golden - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Karen Anne Golden
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third chair, so she and Michelle went off to look for one. Mrs. Murphy sat down and opened the money box.
In the center of the large room, against one of the long walls, was a platform/stage with a microphone stand. In front was an elaborately decorated long table with a red velvet skirt. It was covered with cakes — every conceivable kind of fancy cake. Katherine moved over to it. Her eyes grew big as they darted from cake to cake, examining each with awe.
On the table was a three-tiered coconut cake, a log cabin made from Twinkies, a Santa Claus sheet cake, a snowman covered with shredded coconut, several chocolate cakes, and a detailed Victorian Queen Anne gingerbread house iced with pink frosting.
Jake came over. “That looks like your house.”
Katherine scrutinized it. “The detailing is very good, but I’m not liking the grim reaper figurine in the front door.”
“You’re kidding me,” Jake said looking. When he saw it, he chuckled. “Looks like something from a Halloween miniature set.”
Katherine drummed her fingers on the table. “The murder house!” She gazed around the room and when she didn’t see anyone looking, she removed a graham cracker door, put the figurine inside, and then put the door back. “Solved,” she giggled.
“You’re lucky a cake Nazi didn’t see you, or you’d be in a heap of trouble,” Jake advised, then asked, “What do you think of this cake?” He pointed at a giant cone of chocolate set on a bank of red icing.
“It looks like a volcano. It’s even got chocolate spouting out of the top of it.”
Jake smiled. “That’s my mom’s cake. It’s her famous volcano cake. She bakes one every year. That’s an official chocolate pump. Liquid magma.”
Katherine said, “Cool! I don’t see any prices on these cakes.”
“People come from miles around to bid on them. This is how the event makes most of its money.”
“Bid?” Katherine questioned. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s a cake auction! There’s even an auctioneer. It starts promptly at noon. Word of advice — things could get ugly, but in a good way,” Jake grinned. “Hey listen, sweet pea, I’m off now. I’ll be back at high noon.”
“Seriously, you’re coming back for the cake auction?” Katherine asked, surprised.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Because,” he began, then lowered his voice. “See that flowerpot behind the volcano?”
“Yeah?”
“Inside that ordinary clay pot is the most delicious white chocolate cake you’ve ever tasted.”
Katherine rolled her eyes and pinched him affectionately on the arm. “Okay, I won’t tell anyone you’re going to bid on that cake. But here’s a little ditty about Jack and Diane. I know who made said cake.”
“Oh, really?” he asked. “And who baked said cake?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“Okay, savvy girl, I look forward to finding out. See you later,” Jake said, leaving, enjoying the playful banter. Katherine followed him with her eyes and saw him stop and talk to his mother, Cora, who was standing in the entryway. Jake saw Katz looking, so he pointed at his mom. Katherine waved. Cora waved back.
One of the Sanders boys — the one with the irritating hyena laugh — walked in. Bobby took the shortest route to the cake registration table where there were two chairs but no occupants. Elizabeth “Lizard” Brentwood slowly walked to the table and took her seat. Son Robbie took the second chair. A colorful banner attached to the table announced “Cake Auction 2014.”
Bobby Sanders was carrying some sort of sheet cake. He carefully set it down on the table and began to fill out an entry form. Katherine moved over to look at the cake. She smiled at Lizard and Robbie.
The cake depicted a Hawaiian hula dancer with a blue-iced cupcake bra. Black Twizzlers formed the straps and the grass hula skirt was made from red shoe-string licorice. A Hershey’s chocolate kiss was in the dancer’s belly
In the center of the large room, against one of the long walls, was a platform/stage with a microphone stand. In front was an elaborately decorated long table with a red velvet skirt. It was covered with cakes — every conceivable kind of fancy cake. Katherine moved over to it. Her eyes grew big as they darted from cake to cake, examining each with awe.
On the table was a three-tiered coconut cake, a log cabin made from Twinkies, a Santa Claus sheet cake, a snowman covered with shredded coconut, several chocolate cakes, and a detailed Victorian Queen Anne gingerbread house iced with pink frosting.
Jake came over. “That looks like your house.”
Katherine scrutinized it. “The detailing is very good, but I’m not liking the grim reaper figurine in the front door.”
“You’re kidding me,” Jake said looking. When he saw it, he chuckled. “Looks like something from a Halloween miniature set.”
Katherine drummed her fingers on the table. “The murder house!” She gazed around the room and when she didn’t see anyone looking, she removed a graham cracker door, put the figurine inside, and then put the door back. “Solved,” she giggled.
“You’re lucky a cake Nazi didn’t see you, or you’d be in a heap of trouble,” Jake advised, then asked, “What do you think of this cake?” He pointed at a giant cone of chocolate set on a bank of red icing.
“It looks like a volcano. It’s even got chocolate spouting out of the top of it.”
Jake smiled. “That’s my mom’s cake. It’s her famous volcano cake. She bakes one every year. That’s an official chocolate pump. Liquid magma.”
Katherine said, “Cool! I don’t see any prices on these cakes.”
“People come from miles around to bid on them. This is how the event makes most of its money.”
“Bid?” Katherine questioned. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s a cake auction! There’s even an auctioneer. It starts promptly at noon. Word of advice — things could get ugly, but in a good way,” Jake grinned. “Hey listen, sweet pea, I’m off now. I’ll be back at high noon.”
“Seriously, you’re coming back for the cake auction?” Katherine asked, surprised.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Because,” he began, then lowered his voice. “See that flowerpot behind the volcano?”
“Yeah?”
“Inside that ordinary clay pot is the most delicious white chocolate cake you’ve ever tasted.”
Katherine rolled her eyes and pinched him affectionately on the arm. “Okay, I won’t tell anyone you’re going to bid on that cake. But here’s a little ditty about Jack and Diane. I know who made said cake.”
“Oh, really?” he asked. “And who baked said cake?”
“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
“Okay, savvy girl, I look forward to finding out. See you later,” Jake said, leaving, enjoying the playful banter. Katherine followed him with her eyes and saw him stop and talk to his mother, Cora, who was standing in the entryway. Jake saw Katz looking, so he pointed at his mom. Katherine waved. Cora waved back.
One of the Sanders boys — the one with the irritating hyena laugh — walked in. Bobby took the shortest route to the cake registration table where there were two chairs but no occupants. Elizabeth “Lizard” Brentwood slowly walked to the table and took her seat. Son Robbie took the second chair. A colorful banner attached to the table announced “Cake Auction 2014.”
Bobby Sanders was carrying some sort of sheet cake. He carefully set it down on the table and began to fill out an entry form. Katherine moved over to look at the cake. She smiled at Lizard and Robbie.
The cake depicted a Hawaiian hula dancer with a blue-iced cupcake bra. Black Twizzlers formed the straps and the grass hula skirt was made from red shoe-string licorice. A Hershey’s chocolate kiss was in the dancer’s belly
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