Read Cat of the Century for Free Online

If President Barnett had only known how high, she might have canceled the whole damned thing.

    On that same day Harry finished the end-of-day chores, her cats and dog helping.
    Tucker barked,
“Fair and intruders!”
    The vet truck rolled down the drive, still a little muddy after the light snow last week plus the freezing and thawing. In Fair’s wake was Fred Willard, driving a new Volvo XC70, and someone behind him in a Volvo SUV.
    Harry wondered why the caravan.
    Fair hopped out of his truck and put his arm around his wife’s waist, getting straw on himself and propelling her toward the XC70, a lovely silver station wagon. Fred emerged and handed Harry the key.
    “Six cylinders.” Fred, a Volvo salesman, smiled.
    “You rented a Volvo?” Harry was incredulous.
    “I bought a Volvo.”
    “Fair, we’re in a depression!”
    “Recession,” Fair replied.
    “Bullpucky,” Harry shot back.
    “I have enough, recession or depression, and you’re driving to Fulton, Missouri, in something safe.”
    He was one hundred percent correct. Besides, they really needed a vehicle that wasn’t a truck.
    Harry, stunned, finally spoke. “It’s beautiful. And I will be safe.”
    She couldn’t have been more wrong.

I resent that.” Mariah D’Angelo’s cheeks burned with indignation.
    “You can resent it all you like, Mariah. You fell down on the job.” Flo stated this calmly—too calmly.
    “The techie is working on the problem. In the meantime, I’ve made notes from memory.” Mariah slapped the table.
    “How do we know you didn’t make up the figures to cover yourself?” Flo went for the throat.
    Inez lightly tapped the table with her gavel. “Ladies, this solves nothing. If we compare last year’s income and expenditures to what we have so far, based on Mariah’s memory, we’ll get some idea of where we stand. Why you all trust computers is beyond me. You should keep the books by hand as well as on your computer. I’m not saying, Mariah, that you didn’t need to file everything on your computer. I know it makes it easy to print copies, but it’s always a good idea to keep vital information in a form not dependent upon electricity.”
    Mariah stammered. Nothing coherent came out.
    Flo leaned back in her chair with her hands folded.
    Liz Filmore, ever eager to put the Richmond chapter in a good light, said, “We do that.”
    “How wonderful for you.” Mariah’s voice could cut ice.
    “Let’s take a break. A fifteen-minute break. When we return, I expectto see an attitude adjustment.” Inez rapped the gavel on the table again, her disgust apparent.
    She rose, steadying herself for a moment on the table’s edge. Her knees throbbed. Bad weather was coming. She stepped into the hallway. Although the alumnae chair emeritus, Inez had to take over the actual chair’s duties because Mariah and Flo had made it impossible for Liz. Too young, cowed by the rich St. Louis and Kansas City alumnae, Liz couldn’t keep order. Neither Mariah nor Flo paid the least bit of attention to her, but they respected Inez, even feared her a little. She was the only person on the twelve-woman alumnae board who could keep order. As St. Louis and Kansas City were vitally important to the economic health of Missouri, so they were to William Woods. Having a representative from each city was important. Seattle, large as it was, had not fielded as many alumnae over the years as had the two great and completely different Missouri cities.
    Small knots of women chatted in the halls, lobbying for pet projects or gossiping about Mariah’s computer crash. Some found it suspicious. Others felt that those things just happened.
    Flo fanned the suspicious people. “Until we have an accurate accounting, I must assume all is not well with our funds.”
    “Are you suggesting Mariah misused them?” DeeDee Halstead, head of the L.A. chapter, leveled her gaze at Flo.
    Flo hesitated just enough to intimate perhaps that was the case, but she said,