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Purrfect Heat. Purrfect Santa. Purrfect Crime. Purrfect Rivalry

4. PURRFECT HEAT

Prologue

Erin Coka arrived bright and early for work. It was her day to openFry Me for an Oyster and she didn’t want to be late. As a newish employee of the restaurant, she had everything to prove and everything to lose. Not that her employers, Brainard and Isabella Stowe, were terrible people or anything. They just ran a tight ship, and expected all members of their staff, from the dishwashers to the chef, to do the work and show up on time.

Lately, things had been even more hectic than usual, with the famous celebrity chef Niklaus Skad in town, subjectingFry Me for an Oyster to his usual grueling treatment. He’d been all over the place, a camera crew in tow, criticizing the menus, the seating, the decorations, the presentation and even the way the staff dressed and behaved. It seemed nothing was good enough for the Great Niklaus, and Brainard and Isabella had been on edge all week.Kitchen Disasters could make or break their business, though by the looks of things, Niklaus was leaning more toward destroying them.

Erin opened the door and stepped inside. The air was stale and musty—redolent with cooking scents. She stuck her nose in the air and sniffed. Yuck. Something smelled awful. Had Hendrik been working on one of his notorious creations again? Cooking up something special for Niklaus? Going for a last-ditch attempt to save his career and the restaurant?

She walked through to the kitchen.“Chef? Chef, are you in here?”

Sometimes, when the mood struck him, Hendrik Serarols liked to come in at the crack of dawn to try out a few new recipes he’d dreamed up. She walked past the bar and through the swinging doors into the large kitchen at the back. Here Hendrik created his masterpieces, which had put Fry Me for an Oyster on the map in Hampton Cove and far beyond.

“Yuck,” she muttered, as her eyes scanned the squeaky clean kitchen.

All gleaming countertops and scrubbed pots dangling over the stoves. Everything perfectly clean, as it should be. Niklaus Skad was big on hygiene, his pet peeve. The stench seemed to be coming from one of the ovens, the biggest one, where they baked pizza and other large dishes. Hendrik had once joked you could fit a man in there, even one as big as him.

She walked over to the oven and saw that it was switched on.“Chef?” she repeated. “Are you cooking something in here?” No reply.

She peered in through the oven window. Whatever it was, it had been cooking for so long that smoke was curling out through the vents. Had Chef put something in last night and forgotten to turn off the oven? He had so much on his mind lately he was starting to get a little frazzled. And who could blame him? With Niklaus on his case all the time, even yelling and screaming, and the camera crew in his face while he tried to keep it together and run the kitchen, a lesser man would have fallen to pieces.

She flicked on the oven light, and that’s when she saw it. Her lips parted on a silent scream. There was a man in there, baked to a crisp!

Chapter 1

I was luxuriating in my all-time favorite spot: at the foot of Odelia’s bed. I’m blessed with a smallish human, which means I’ve got the foot of the bed all to myself. I’ve heard horror stories of other cats, whose owners stretch out all the way to the edge of the bed, and then wriggle around all night, making it absolutely impossible for any cat to get any sleep.

In that sense, Odelia is the perfect human. Well, not just because she’s short, but also because she’s super nice and sweet. She always makes sure I’m well fed and well taken care of, never stingy on the cuddles and the strokes, and she keeps my blorange fur looking nice and shiny by giving me a vigorous grooming every week without fail. She’s even installed a pet door so I can come and go as I please. A nice, big door, as I’m big-boned.

Odelia is a reporter for the Hampton Cove Gazette, and if there’s one thing that sets her aside from most humans, it’s that she speaks feline. Yep, she and I have a perfect understanding—literally. She takes care of me, and in return I collect gossip from all over town and give it her hot off the griddle. All the news that’s fit to print, straight fromthe cat’s mouth.

Odelia stirred, and I pricked up my ears. I can tell when she’s about to wake up, which is my cue to snuggle up to her and bury my nose in her armpit for an extra cuddle. It’s our morning ritual, and the start of our day.

This morning, however, things were going to prove different, and the first sign I got was when Dooley and Brutus came barging into the bedroom, looking excited, but not in a good way.

Dooley is my best bud, a gray Raggamuffin who belongs to Odelia’s Gran. Brutus is a black cat and… not exactly my buddy. He belongs to Chase Kingsley, a cop and occasional kissmate of Odelia’s. Yes, I know kissmate isn’t a word, but how else can I describe Chase and Odelia’s relationship? They’re not a couple, they just… kiss… sometimes. And flirt a lot, I guess. I know, it’s disgusting, but what can you do? Humans are weird that way.

“Max!” Dooley cried. “Terrible news! Terrible, terrible news!”

I reluctantly heaved my head from the soft blanket.“What is it?” I murmured, then yawned cavernously. Dooley is one of those overexcited cats who get their tail in a twist just because their human got them a new brand of kibble or a new smell of cat litter.

“A new cat,” Dooley said, still panting. “There’s a new cat in town.”

I looked from Dooley to Brutus, who was, at least in my eyes, still the new cat in town, even though by now he’d been here a couple of months.

“No, not me,” Brutus grunted. “A new new cat.”

I frowned.“So? New cats are born every day. What’s so special about this one?”

“He’s not a kitten,” Dooley announced, looking highly perturbed.

“He’s a full-grown cat,” said Brutus. “And he belongs to Chase.”

“Your Chase?”

“My Chase.”

“That’s not possible. Your Chase doesn’t even like cats. He just took you in because his mother is living with her sister who’s allergic to cats.”

It was a long story. Brutus had belonged to Chase’s mom, but when she couldn’t take care of him anymore, Chase had graciously agreed to give him a home. Though he spent most of his time either at Odelia’s or next door, at Odelia’s mom’s place, where Dooley lives with Gran.

“Martha loves cats,” Brutus explained. “She just can’t help herself. So when she saw this rascal roaming the streets, she took him home with her, and immediately got into a huge argument with her sister.”

“So Chase took him over? Again?” I asked, incredulous.

Brutus nodded somberly.“And he’s something else, this one.”

“He’s called Diego and he’s a real charmer. A regular ladies’ cat.”

“Like Brutus, you mean,” I said, giving Brutus a level look.

“I’m not a ladies’ cat,” Brutus protested. “Can I help it that the ladies all love me? It’s not as if I go out of my way to seduce them or anything. They just take one look at me and bingo. They go all gooey on me.”

“That’s a ladies’ cat,” I said in measured tones. “That’s you.”

“You got it all wrong as usual, Maxie, baby,” Brutus growled.

“No, you got it all wrong. As usual,” I countered.

“No, you got it all wrong!”

“No, you got it—”

“It doesn’t matter!” Dooley cried. “Diego is here and Harriet is going to take one look at him and she’s going to go weak at the knees and fall for him!”

“Not my Harriet,” Brutus said, though he didn’t look convinced.

“Your Harriet?” Dooley asked. “Harriet isn’t your Harriet.”

“Oh, yes, she is. I know you’re devastated by the fact that she likes me more than you, but she is mine,” said Brutus with a smirk. “All mine.”

“Harriet isn’t yours. Harriet is a free spirit. She belongs to no one.”

“All mine,” he said in a sing-songy voice. “All the time.”

“Where is Harriet, by the way?” I asked.

Harriet belongs to Odelia’s mom and also lives next door. She’s a white Persian with green eyes. Even though she’s totally not my type I have to admit she’s very pretty. And she likes to hang out with Brutus, he wasn’t lying about that. Much to Dooley’s chagrin, cause he’s got a crush on Harriet himself.

“I have no idea,” said Brutus. “When I woke up just now she wasn’t there.”

I cut a glance at Dooley, and he nodded somberly. Brutus had taken to spending the night at the house, occupying the spot next to Harriet on the bed. When they weren’t traipsing all over town, that was.

Odelia muttered something, and I wasn’t surprised. All this meowing and hissing had probably woken her up. “Now see what you’ve done,” I said. “You’ve gone and woken up my human.”

“What do you care?” Brutus asked. “She needs to get up anyway.”

“I like her to wake up gradually.”

“Max likes to snuggle with Odelia,” said Dooley. “He’s a snuggler.”

It’s a good thing us cats are covered with fur, otherwise Brutus would have noticed the blush that was now creeping up my cheeks.

“I am not,” I said indignantly. “You take that back, Dooley.”

“I’m not taking it back. You are a snuggler. You like to snuggle.”

“Nothing to be ashamed about, Maxie,” said Brutus with a sly grin. “Some cats are snugglers and others aren’t. I for one would never want to be caught dead trying to stick my nose in Chase’s armpit, or sniff at his hair. Yuck. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like the guy, but that’s nothow we roll.”

“So how do you roll?” I asked, giving him my best scowl.

He studied his claws.“You know, us catly cats just hang, you know. Like bros. Like buds. Chase, Chief Alec and I like to watch the ballgame, knocking back a few brewskis, swapping some off-color stories from our sordid pasts. It’s what real cats do. You wouldn’t understand.”

“You don’t drink brewskis,” I said heatedly. “And you definitely don’t swap off-color stories about your sordid past because Chase doesn’t speak feline and neither does Uncle Alec. You’re making all that up.”

He grinned.“Keep telling yourself that. Whatever makes you feel good, bro. Just keep on snuggling. Nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all.”

“There is nothing wrong with that!” I cried.

“That’s what I just said.”

“No, but you said it in a way that makes it sound wrong!”

“Hey, don’t you go getting all weird on me, Maxie. I said I’m fine with you being all feminine and girly so why don’t you just let me be all manly and butch, huh? To each his own is what I always say.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, and I was itching to give him a piece of my mind—or my claws. Then again, Brutus is a formidable cat. Strong and athletic. I may be bigger, but I’m not afraid to admit it’s mostly blubber.

“Easy there, big guy,” said Brutus, catching my glare and holding up his paws in a peaceable gesture. “You look like you’re about to blow a gasket. We’re all buds here, okay?”

“Right,” I said dubiously.

“Do you really drink beer, Brutus?” Dooley asked.

“Of course. You’re not a real cat if you haven’t downed some suds.”

“I haven’t downed some suds,” said Dooley. “You think I should try?”

“First chance you get,” Brutus assured him. “But go easy, slugger. Not everyone can stomach the stuff.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “Only real cats can, right?”

“That’s right, Maxie. Though if you can’t keep it down, that’s fine, too.”

He was playing with me, as usual, and I wondered if this new cat was going to be just like Brutus, for if he was, Dooley was right. This was bad.

Just then, the doorbell rang, and I groaned. Now I was never going to get my morning cuddle. Brutus grinned at me. He’d read my mind.

Odelia murmured something, smacked her lips, and sat upright in bed, blinking confusedly. When she saw us, she blinked some more.“Um, Max? Are there really three of you or am I seeing things?”

“You’re not seeing things,” I said. “Dooley and Brutus came over.”

“Oh, hi, Dooley—Brutus.”

The doorbell rang again.

“There it is,” she said. “I thought I’d heard something.”

With her blond hair a mess, her green eyes trying hard to focus, and her nose wrinkling in confusion, my human looked cute as a button. She swung her feet to theFinding Nemo carpet by the bed, and I saw she was wearing her pink Betty Boop pajamas. She staggered from the bed, and shuffled to the door.

“So what were you guys talking about?” she asked as she stumbled down the stairs, rubbing at her eyes with one hand while holding onto the banister with the other.

“About the new cat,” Dooley said.

“His name is Diego and he’s a real charmer,” I said. “At least according to Brutus.”

“Well, he is,” Brutus said. “I only talked to him for all of five minutes and I could see he was one of those ladies’ cats.”

“You mean like you,” Odelia said, not missing a beat.

“I’m not a ladies’ cat!” Brutus cried. “Ladies just like me!”

“That’s a ladies’ cat,” I said.

“Diego belongs to Chase,” Dooley said.

Odelia halted on the bottom step and looked down at Dooley.“Chase has a new cat?”

“Used to belong to his mother, just like Brutus,” I explained. I gave her a worried look. She nodded. She understood Dooley and I didn’t like Brutus. And if this new cat was anything like him, we were in for another nasty surprise.

“I’m sure Diego will prove to be a perfectly nice cat,” she said.

Odelia is always the picture of optimism. For her the glass is always half-full. You have to admire that about her, of course. Then again, sometimes the glass is half-empty. Or completely empty. Like in the case of Brutus.

Odelia made her way to the door and peeked through the peephole.

“Oh,” she said, surprised, and quickly turned and looked in the hallway mirror. “Ugh,” she said, and finger-combed her hair and checked her eyes for sleep gunk. Then she heaved a resigned sigh and opened the door. Odelia’s uncle Alec stood on the mat, along with Chase Kingsley, who was holding up a small orange cat.

“That’s Diego!” hissed Brutus.

“Surprise,” said Chase with a smile, and handed the cat to Odelia.

Chapter 2

Odelia took the cat from Chase. She was feeling a little awkward. If only she’d known they were coming over, she could have splashed some water on her face, sprayed some deodorant on her pits and dressed in something a little more appropriate than her Betty Boop pajamas.

“Sleeping in?” asked her uncle Alec with a grin as he stepped inside.

“I must have slept through my alarm,” she said. “What time is it?”

“Seven thirty,” said Chase, following her uncle in.

“Oh.” Her alarm had been set for eight, so it wasn’t that she was late. They were early. “So what brings you here?” She held up the cat. “Showing off this little guy?”

“He’s my mom’s,” Chase said apologetically. He wasn’t dressed in his pajamas but in jeans, a plaid shirt and boots. With his slightly tousled dark hair, clear blue eyes and chiseled features he was like an all-out assault of manliness. A lot to take in before breakfast.

“So… you want me to take care of him for a while?” she guessed.

He grimaced.“Thing is, since Brutus spends more time over here than at your uncle’s place, I just figured you might have room for another one?”

“Sure,” she said, setting down the cat. Max and Dooley looked dumbfounded, and Brutus downright hostile, but she didn’t care. They’d just have to learn to get along. Just like she and Chase had done. When the cop had first arrived in town, he hadn’t liked that Odelia occasionally got involved in her uncle’s police investigations. As a former NYPD detective, that kind of thing simply wasn’t done. Now, however, they got on just fine.

“We’re not here about the cat, honey,” Chief Alec said with a grimace.

Uh-oh. She knew that look.“Something happened, right? Something bad?”

“Afraid so,” said Chase. “Have you ever watched Niklaus Skad’sKitchen Disasters?”

“Where he humiliates and destroys restaurant owners for entertainment purposes? I’ve seen it once or twice. Not my cup of tea.”

“Well, looks like someone didn’t like him.”

“Niklaus Skad was murdered? In Hampton Cove?”

“He was here to tape a segment of his show atFry Me for an Oyster,” said Chase. “He was found this morning, stuck in the restaurant oven.”

“Completely cooked,” Uncle Alec added, shaking his head.

“Yikes. That’s a horrible way to go.” But also very apt, of course.

“We’re going out there right now,” said Chase. “So we figured you might want to tag along.”

She stared at him. Was he serious? Not all that long ago the mere thought that a reporter would tag along with him would have gotten him madder than a wet hen. And now he was actually inviting her to join him? He’d definitely had a change of heart. Then again, she’d helped him crack a few cases since they first met. And had even done him a personal favor by getting him absolved of a phony molestation charge hanging over his head.

Uncle Alec was grinning at her from behind Chase’s back, and gave her a wink. “Sure,” she said finally. “I’d love to come. Um… I need to change into something more appropriate first, though.”

Chase smiled.“Why? I love me some Betty Boop.”

“Me, too,” she said. “But it doesn’t really inspire confidence. People might think I’m a flake.”

“A cute flake,” Chase said, rocking back on his heels.

She gave him a curious glance. He was awfully cheerful this morning. Probably happy something was finally happening in Hampton Cove. For the former NYPD detective life in the small town was probably boring.

“If you’re gonna change you better do it now,” her uncle said, tapping his watch.

“Be back in a jiffy,” she said, and bounded up the stairs.

For the next fifteen minutes she showered, dressed and even took the time to apply some makeup. She might be about to meet lying suspects, heinous criminals and a very dead murder victim, but that didn’t mean she had to look like crap. And then there was Chase, of course. He might like her in her Betty Boop outfit, but she just knew she could do a whole lot better. Not that she wanted to impress him. Not her. Nah-uh.

“So why let me tag along?” she asked, scooting up the backseat of her uncle’s squad car while he put the car in gear and pulled away.

Chase turned to face her, putting his elbow on the headrest.“It’s like I told your uncle. You’ve got a knack for it, Odelia. I’ve never known anyone who’s got a knack for solving murders like you have. You’re a natural.”

“Apart from Jessica Fletcher,” her uncle said, keeping his eye on the road.

“Yes, well, your niece is a lot easier on the eyes than Jessica.”

Was he flirting with her? Not that she was complaining.“Thanks for the compliment,” she said. “Though I’m sure you’re just exaggerating.”

“About what?” asked her uncle with a twinkle in his eye. “The sleuthing thing or the easier on the eyes thing?”

“Both,” she said. “I mean, I just get lucky from time to time, I guess.”

“We both know luck’s got nothing to do with it,” said Chase. “You have a knack, Odelia, and I would be an idiot not to make good use of it.”

He gave her a penetrating look that sent her heart rate rocketing up.

“I’m glad you’re finally seeing things my way, Chase,” said Chief Alec. “It sure took you long enough.”

“Yes, well, where I come from civilians don’t butt into police investigations,” he said stubbornly, repeating his old line. “They just don’t,” he repeated when the chief shook his head and uttered a groan.

“Where you come from they don’t have girls like my niece,” Alec said.

“That’s true enough,” Chase agreed with another sly look at her.

“So what about this murder?” she asked, deciding to get this conversation out of the gutter. “What have you found out so far?”

Chase took a notebook from his shirt pocket.“Murder was reported by Erin Coka. She’s a waitress and was opening up the restaurant this morning. Said she thought the chef had forgotten to turn off the oven.”

“Who’s the chef?”

“Hendrik Serarols. So far hasn’t shown up for work.”

“Which is suspicious,” her uncle said with a nod.

“Who owns Fry Me for an Oyster?” She’d never been there, but had heard good things about it.

Chase read from his notebook again.“Brainard and Isabella Stowe. It’s their third restaurant. The previous two went belly-up. This one was a success.”

“A big success,” Uncle Alec confirmed. “Which is why it got the attention of Niklaus Skad. The man likes to attach his name to success stories.”

“And then tear them down,” Odelia said, remembering some snippets fromKitchen Disasters. The man was unrelenting and brutal. She wondered what had induced the Stowes to feature on his show. Then again, any publicity was good publicity, probably. She wasn’t a marketing expert, but being on TV was probably the best way of getting your name out there.

They’d arrived at the restaurant, which was on Norfolk Street, and her uncle parked across the street. Uniformed officers were blocking anyone from entering the restaurant, and were keeping onlookers at bay.

“Did you let your cats out, Odelia?” asked her uncle, locking eyes with her through the rearview mirror.

“I’ve got a pet door,” she said. “They come and go as they please.”

“Good,” he said with a nod.

“I didn’t know you were so concerned about cats, Chief?” asked Chase, surprised.

The Chief shrugged.“What can I say? I’m a softie at heart.”

But Odelia knew why he’d asked. Unlike Chase, her uncle knew the secret of her sleuthing success. She had two assistants working for her, scouring the streets for clues: Max and Dooley. Cats are everywhere, and since people rarely hold back in front of them, they harbor a lot of secrets, and don’t mind sharing thosesecrets with other cats… like Max and Dooley.

They crossed the street. Chase and her uncle went in to check the crime scene and talk to the coroner. She stayed behind. She’d spotted what she assumed were the owners of the restaurant, and decided to have a chat.

Brainard Stowe was a stout man with a comb-over, who stood nervously hopping from one leg to the other while an officer took the couple’s statement. His wife Isabella was the motherly type, and reminded Odelia of her own mother. She was round with a kind face and overly large glasses, and was dressed in a floral print dress that seemed ill-fitted to keep her ample curves in check. She and her husband looked like they’d been rudely awakened, had put on the first thing they found, and had rushed over.

She waited patiently until the couple had given their statement, and approached them with a friendly smile.“Hi. My name is Odelia Poole. I’m a reporter for the Hampton Cove Gazette and a civilian consultant with the Hampton Cove Police Department. Can you tell me what happened?”

The woman’s eyes were red-rimmed, and it was obvious she’d been crying. Her husband, on the other hand, appeared incensed for some reason.

“I know who you are,” Isabella said. “I love your articles, Miss Poole.”

“I can’t believe this,” Brainard said. “When are they going to let us in?”

“Not until the crime scene has been thoroughly examined and the coroner has taken away the body,” I said.

His eyes shifted to me.“You’re Chief Alec’s niece, aren’t you? Can’t you ask him when I can reopen my restaurant?”

“You can ask him yourself, honey,” said his wife. “I’m sure he’ll want to talk to us once he’s through in there.”

“I hope they’re not going to close us down for a week,” he grumbled. “Something like this can wreck a business. And I know a thing or two about wrecking a business.”

Isabella smiled nervously.“I’m sure Miss Poole doesn’t want to know about all of that, honey,” she said, placing a warning hand on his arm.

“Mh? Oh. Right,” he said, realizing he wasn’t talking to himself.

“Is it true that Niklaus Skad was filming his showKitchen Disasters in your restaurant?” I asked.

“Yes,” said Isabella. “We made the arrangements last fall, and filming had just started a couple of days ago.”

“And how would you describe the experience?”

Brainard frowned.“Rotten. I wish we’d never agreed to do his damn show.” Isabella put her hand on his arm again but he shook it off. “And I don’t care who knows it. You can print this on your front page for all I care. Niklaus Skad was a horrible human being who got off on hurting others. A failed and bitter restaurateur who took out his rancor on other, more successful business owners. He bullied our chef, he bullied our staff, he bullied us, heck, he even bullied our cat! The man was a well-dressed thug!”

“I hope you’re not going to write that in your article, Miss Poole,” Isabella said. “Brainard is overwrought. He doesn’t mean what he says.”

“I mean every word! I think whoever killed the man deserves a medal!”

“Keep your voice down,” Isabella hissed. “The police are here.”

“They know we didn’t do it,” said Brainard. “How could we? We were…” His pale blue eyes shifted to me again, and he promptly clamped his mouth shut.

“Yes?” I prompted. “You were…”

“We were home last night,” said Isabella. “All night.”

“Can anyone vouch for you?” I asked. “I mean, I’m sure my uncle will want to know.”

Husband and wife shared a quick glance, then Isabella produced a nervous giggle.“I—we—well, the thing is…”

“You don’t have to tell her,” Brainard said. “There’s such a thing as privacy in this country. There are laws and stuff.”

“Privacy is the first thing that goes out the window when a dead body is found stuffed in the oven of your kitchen,” Isabella said stiffly. She nodded. “The police are going to find out anyway. They’re going to go through our personal affairs with a fine-tooth comb and if we don’t get an expensive lawyer we might even be charged with murder.”

“Nonsense. We didn’t do it and we can prove it.”

She gave him a gentle shove.“Go on, then. Tell her. It’s not like it’s anything to be ashamed of.”

He stared at me, his lips a thin line. Finally, he burst out,“Very well, then. We were playing with our Echo.”

This wasn’t what she’d expected, so she raised an eyebrow. “Echo?”

“The Amazon gadget? You can ask it anything,” Isabella said.

“Yeah, it’s way cool. You can ask Alexa what the weather will be like, or to play a certain song, or to turn on the heating. Anything. It’s fun.”

“Who’s Alexa?” she asked, still not following.

“She’s the voice of the Echo,” said Isabella.

“Like Apple has Siri?” Brainard added. He frowned. “I wonder why they’re both women’s voices.”

“Women just have nicer voices,” said Isabella.

“I’m sure that’s not the reason.”

“And I’m sure that it is.”

“Um… How is this Echo thing providing you with an alibi?” Odelia asked.

“See, Brainard? Miss Poole is smart as a whip.” She nudged him. “You tell her.”

“No, you tell her. It was your idea, after all.”

Isabella hooked her arm through her husband’s and bit her lip. “The thing is… we were asking Alexa for… advice.”

“Sexy positions,” Brainard said gruffly, practicing his thousand-yard stare.

“And ordering sexy things online,” his wife added.

“Spice up our love life. You should give it a try sometime, missy.”

“Oh, I’m sure Miss Poole doesn’t need her love life spiced up,” Isabella said. She gave Odelia a smile. “When you’re married for as long as we’ve been, you need all the spicing up you can get. You understand.”

“Oh, sure,” she said, a little flustered. “Yeah, I get it. Of course.”

“And the good thing is that the police can check with Amazon. Everything you do on the Echo is recorded. So they can hear what we were up to.”

“They can?” asked Brainard, his eyebrows rising precipitously.

“Oh, yes,” she said, reddening slightly.

“Oh, my.”

“Yes,” she said with a sigh.

“Everything?”

“Every sound we made, honey.”

“Oh, my God.”

She bit her lip again.“So there you have it, Miss Poole. That’s our alibi.”

“Alexa.”

She nodded.“I hope you’ll be discreet about it. I’d hate for our friends and neighbors to find out about this. Or my sister.”

“They’ll know soon enough,” said her husband. “Everybody talks, honey. Even the cops.”

“Oh, well,” she said, adjusting her dress. “It’s not like it’s a crime to have a good time. We are married, after all.”

“And even if we weren’t, there’s no law against ordering edible lingerie.”

“Brainard!” she whispered, tittering nervously.

“The Echo,” Odelia said.

Isabella heaved a little sigh.“The Echo,” she echoed.

Yep. Definitely one of the more interesting alibis.

Chapter 3

We all stared at the newcomer, who sat casually licking his front paw.

“He’s orange, just like you,” Dooley whispered.

“I’m not orange, I’m blorange,” I whispered back.

“What’s the difference?” Brutus hissed.

“Blorange is a reddish orange with rose hues,” I said.

They both stared at me, then at Diego, then back at me.“I don’t see the difference,” Brutus said.

“Well, there is a difference,” I said haughtily. “Maybe you should have your eyes checked.”

“My eyes are fine. You’re orange, he’s orange. It’s the same color.”

“It’s not the same color!”

“No, you’re right about that,” Brutus admitted. “You’re fat, he’s thin.”

“I’m not fat!”

Diego jumped up on the couch and casually stretched himself.

“Hey, that’s my spot,” I told Dooley.

“Tell him,” Dooley said.

“Yeah, Max. You have to stand up for yourself,” Brutus agreed. “Tell him that’s your spot.”

I hesitantly looked at Diego, then decided that he didn’t look dangerous. Maybe he was even nice? I walked over, and said, “Hi, my name is Max, and I think you’re in my spot.”

He gave me a supercilious look, then placed his head on his paws and closed his eyes.

“Um… There are plenty of perfectly nice spots in this house, and you’re welcome to them all,” I said. “But this spot? Where you’re lying now? That’s, um… well, not to put too fine a point on it, but that spot is actually my spot, see?”

He opened his eyes again, and yawned.“What did you say your name was, brother?”

“Um, Max?”

He held up his paw.“Put it there.”

I stared at his paw.“Put what there?”

“Give me some skin.”

“Skin? What skin?”

“Press the flesh, dude.”

“Press… the flesh? I… is that some kind of secret code?”

He sighed, then lowered his paw again.“Oh.”

I stared at him.“Oh? What do you mean, Oh?”

“You’re one of those.”

“One of what?”

“A lame duck.”

I gave a guffaw of incredulity.“For one thing, I’m not lame. And for another, I’m a cat, not a duck!”

“Whatever, dude,” he said, going back to sleep.

This was too much. I tapped his shoulder and he opened his eyes again.“I’m sorry,” I said. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear the first time, but this is my spot. You can’t just waltz in here and take my spot. That’s just… rude!”

“Hey, the blond babe said this was my house, so the way I see it? This spot is my spot. But, like you said, there’s plenty of other spots in this place, bubba. Take your pick. And now if you could stop talking. Baby needz his ZZZs.”

And he went right back to sleep!

I turned to face the others. I saw that Dooley was looking at me sadly, while Brutus was grinning like a fox. He seemed to be enjoying himself tremendously.

“Why don’t you try singing it to him, ‘bubba,’” Brutus suggested. “Or maybe you could send him a telegram and sign it, Max, heart heart heart.”

“So what do you suggest?” I asked.

“I’d simply kick him off that couch. And if he doesn’t like it, tough luck.”

“Max doesn’t kick cats off couches,” Dooley said.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because Max doesn’t believe in violence.”

Brutus laughed.“This is just hilarious!”

“Hey, fatso,” Diego said from the couch. “Zip it, will you? I’m trying to get some shut-eye here. Thanks, bubba.”

Brutus made a strangled sound at the back of his throat.“Fatso?!” he finally managed. “Did you just call me fatso?”

“Yeah, do you see another fat cat in here?” Then he caught sight of me and grinned. “Oh, I see what you mean. Okay, what about this: Hey, black fatso. Shut it.” He nodded at me. “I’ll call you orange fatso from now on. That all right with you, bubba?”

“No, it’s not all right with me!” I cried. “I’m not orange—I’m blorange!”

Diego rolled his eyes.“Tomato, tomahtoh. Blorange fatso, then, okay?”

“I’m not fat! I have big bones! It runs in my family!”

“And I’m not fat either,” Brutus cried. “I’m muscular.” He pounded his belly. “All muscle all the way. Not an ounce of fat.”

“If it helps you sleep at night, go ahead and fool yourself,” said Diego, stifling a yawn. “Hey, you, shorty,” he said, addressing Dooley now.

Dooley pointed at himself.“Are you talking to me?”

“Yeah, I’m talking to you. Do you see another short cat in here? Can you tell me when lunch is served? I’m real particular about eating times.”

Dooley was too stunned to respond. He just sat there, goggling.

Diego heaved out a sigh.“Shortand dumb. What a combo. Maybe you can tell me, fat blorange cat. When do they serve lunch in this dump?”

“Max!” I cried, trembling with indignity now. “My name is Max!”

“Sure. Whatever you say, dude. So?” When I stared at him, he rolled his eyes again. “Geez Louise, do I have to spell it out for you? When. Do. They. Serve. Lunch. In. This. Dump? Never mind. I’ll ask the blond bimbo when she comes back. I’ll bet she’s smarter than you bunch of chumps.”

At this point, I, Brutus and Dooley all started yelling at the newcomer simultaneously. Unfortunately, he seemed oblivious, as he was staring past us in the direction of the French windows, which were open.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Diego said, finally displacing himself and gracefully jumping down from the couch. “Where did you spring from? Heaven?”

I turned around to see who he was talking to, and saw that Harriet had entered the room. She was eyeing the newcomer curiously.“Who are you?”

Diego walked up to the white Persian and grinned.“Diego. I’m new in town. And you are…”

“Harriet.”

“Lovely name for a lovely dame.”

“So…” She gave me a confused look. “Do you live here now?”

“Yeah, Odelia adopted me. I’m here to stay, babe.”

“Odelia adopted you?” Harriet asked.

“It’s a long story. I belonged to this old babe, then she transferred me to this cop dude, and he decided to offload me so now I’m here.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” she said. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

He sighed.“Yeah, my life has not been a bed of roses, believe you me.”

“Now that you’re here, things are going to get better,” she said.

“Now that you’re here, Iknow things are gonna get better,” he purred, waggling his whiskers seductively.

Oh, God. The cheesy lines just kept on coming! I was waiting for Harriet to finally catch on and put this guy in his place, but instead she was giving him the same look she used to give Brutus when he first arrived in Hampton Cove. Both Dooley and I glanced over at Brutus, who seemed to sit stunned, glued to the spot, eyes wide, his jaw on the floor.

“Sweetness!” Brutus finally managed. “My precious!”

Harriet looked up, and gave him a curt nod.“Hey, Brutus.” But instead of going over to him and smothering him with revolting kisses, like she usually did, she stayed right where she was, checking out Diego.

Diego gave Brutus a smug smile, and asked Harriet,“Maybe you can show me around? Nobody has given me the grand tour of this place.”

“They haven’t?” She gave me an angry look. “Max! Where are your manners?”

“He called me fat,” I said weakly.

“And orange,” Dooley said, just as weakly.

“Hey, that’s what buds do,” said Diego. “Just some good-natured ribbing.”

“Well, I’ll show you around,” said Harriet. “In fact why don’t I give you the tour of the town? Hampton Cove has a lot of great stuff to offer, and I can show you all of it.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt you can, babe,” said Diego smoothly, unashamedly checking out Harriet’s rear end and tail.

She giggled and tapped his shoulder.“You’re funny.”

“Thanks. I get that a lot. Especially from the ladies.”

“You think I’m a lady?” she asked as she led him out the window.

“I think you’re a babe. And a lady. A lady babe.”

She giggled again.“Oh, you’re just a regular riot, aren’t you?”

“Sugar pie?” Brutus managed hoarsely. “Honeybunch?”

But Harriet was gone.

We sat there in stunned silence for the space of all of five seconds.

“What just happened?” I finally asked.

“I think Harriet likes the new cat,” Dooley said sadly. He’d been through this before with Brutus, so he recognized the signs.

“This isn’t happening,” said Brutus. “Is it?”

He hadn’t been through this before. In fact this was probably the first time he’d been thrown over by someone, so the experience was entirely new. I know I should have gloated, after what he’d put us through, but I honestly couldn’t. The cat looked absolutely, positively sandbagged.

“It’s happening,” Dooley said, patting him on the back. “It just happened.”

“Oh, God,” he said, and I thought I heard an actual crack when the big lug’s heart broke.

Chapter 4

Odelia and Chase sat down for a cup of coffee at Cup o’ Mika, the coffee shop across the street from the restaurant. The coroner was still checking the body, and Chief Alec was poking around the crime scene. Odelia had talked to some more people who worked in the restaurant and they’d all confirmed that Niklaus Skad hadn’t made himself popular while he was filming the segment devoted toFry Me for an Oyster.

“Looks like pretty much everyone had a motive to kill the guy,” she said.

“Looks like. He wasn’t exactly Mr. Popular,” Chase agreed.

Both Chase and Uncle Alec had agreed that the crime scene was too gruesome for Odelia to see, so Chase had volunteered to keep her up to date.

“So tell me, what was so horrible?” she asked. “I mean, I’ve seenFriday the Thirteenth. I can handle blood and gore, Chase.”

“Are you sure? Your mom once told me you can’t watch a scary movie without yelling to stop the movie, or disappearing into the kitchen when it gets really scary.”

“Did Mom tell you that? She must have been talking about herself.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, all right. So I love scary movies but I can’t stand the scary parts. So big deal. I’ll bet there are lots of people who close their eyes or peek through their fingers when the girl is in the shower and the masked maniac sneaks in.”

“That’s such a clich?,” he laughed. “I’m amazed they still keep doing scenes like that.”

“Duh. Because they’re classics? You have to have a shower scene.”

“I thought that went out of style afterPsycho. Hard to beat the master of suspense.”

“Well, it still works, doesn’t it? I mean, I can’t watch a scene like that.” She rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Now I gave myself away.”

He laughed again.“You’d make a terrible killer. You’d crack during the first interview, and confess all of your crimes.”

“I wouldn’t even be interviewed. I’ve got one of those innocent faces. The police would take one look at me and would know I could never commit murder.”

“That’s true enough,” he admitted. “You’ve got one of those honest, open faces. A face that displays everything that goes through your mind.”

Oops. She hoped that the fact that she had a big secret to hide would never go through her head. Aaaand of course it just had. She tried to look innocent, opening her eyes wide and giving him her best, innocent smile.

“Now you look like you’re about to lay an egg,” he said skeptically.

“I do not!”

“Just kidding.”

They sat there for a moment, enjoying a cup o’ Joe and each other’s company, and she wondered if there would ever be a repetition of the kiss he’d given her the other day in her parents’ backyard. She’d kinda liked that kiss, and had hoped there were more where that one came from.

They locked eyes for a moment, and she wondered if he could read that particular thought on her face. He gave her a small smile, and she returned it.

“So, the crime scene,” he said finally, ending their little moment.

“Yes, the crime scene. Tell me all about it. In gruesome detail.”

“Though not too gruesome. Well, apparently the killer somehow managed to stuff the body of our celebrity chef into the oven and—”

“Wait, stuff him in the oven? How big is this oven?”

“Big enough to roast a body, which is what they did.”

“Niklaus Skad was roasted?”

“Yes, roasted like a pig. Or a duck. Or whatever you want to roast.”

“Eww. Now I don’t want to roast anything.”

“Yeah, me neither,” he admitted.

“At least did they kill him first before roasting him?”

Chase lifted his massive shoulders in a shrug.“Dunno. It’s up to Abe to figure that out.”

Abe Cornwall was the county coroner and a very able professional. If anyone could figure out what had killed the celebrity chef, it was him.

“I’d say he’s got his work cut out for him,” Chase continued. “The body was completely unrecognizable. Had been simmering all night.”

Odelia shivered in spite of herself. Now here was one of those moments she wanted to close her eyes and then peek at the screen from between her fingers.“Yuck.” Her eyes widened. “You don’t think they shoved him in there alive, do you? That would be a terrible way to go.”

“Abe doesn’t think so. If that were the case there would have been claw marks or signs that he’d tried to escape. Most likely scenario is that he was knocked out—either dead or unconscious—before being cooked.”

“So do you and Uncle Alec have any suspects?”

“Plenty. There’s the owners of the restaurant, who were afraid to lose their business if Niklaus labeled them incompetent. There’s the chef, who seemed to be the one Niklaus singled out for abuse the most. And then there’s the other staff, who clearly all hated Niklaus and wanted him gone.”

“I talked to the Stowes. They have an alibi.”

She explained to him about the Echo, and Chase had to laugh.

“That must be one of the most original alibis I’ve ever heard. Oh, and we’ll definitely check if it’s true.”

“I’ll bet you will,” she said with a grin.

“Don’t worry. I’ll give you the PG-13 version,” he said.

“Hey! I may be scared of scary movies, but I’m old enough to hear all the saucy bits they ordered on Amazon!”

His grin spread.“I’ll bet you’re dying to find out.”

“So I can order some of that stuff myself? In your dreams, buddy.”

“You’re right about that,” he said, and his look gave her an instant hot flash. Oh, boy. Was she in trouble or not? “Anyway,” he continued. “Next on our list is Hendrik Serarols, who’s pulled a disappearing act.”

“Have you tried his house?”

“Apartment. Yes, a couple of unis went by his place. Nobody home.”

“Unis?”

“Uniformed officers. Sorry. Force of habit.”

Just then, Odelia’s phone rang and she saw that it was her grandmother. “I have to take this. It’s Gran.”

“I’ll get us another round, shall I?” he suggested, and disappeared inside.

“Hey, Gran. What’s up?”

“Odelia, honey, the strangest thing has happened. I was opening a present I got from Leo and—”

“Who’s Leo?”

“Oh, just a guy I’m seeing.”

“You’re seeing a guy?”

“Yes, I’m seeing a guy. Can’t I see a guy? You’re seeing a guy.”

“I’m not seeing a guy.”

“I saw you kissing that cop.”

“That was… nothing.”

“If that was nothing I’d like to see what something looks like.”

She pressed her fingers to her brow.“So you were opening Leo’s present?”

“Yeah, a nice cashmere sweater. Not sure why he would buy me a cashmere sweater in the summer, unless it’s to tell me he wants me to cover up more, but from the way he’s all over me every time we go out I can tell that’s not it. So that’s a mixed message right there. Anyway, I guess there’s no accounting for taste.” She paused. “What was I talking about?”

“You opened the present and something strange happened?”

“That’s right. There was a note inside the sweater.”

“A note? What note?”

“I didn’t see it at first. I just saw it when I cut off the label. I always cut off the label. It just pricks my skin. I hate it. Don’t you hate it? They should make it softer. Like velvety soft. I’ve got delicate skin, so—”

“Gran…”

“So I cut off the label and there it was, neatly folded inside the label, a little note. I had to put on my glasses to read it.”

“What did it say?”

“Wait—where are my glasses? They keep stealing them from me. Oh, they’re on top of my head. Hey, not so fast! Sit down and wait. The doctor will be with you soon!”

Gran was obviously at work, at Dad’s doctor’s office, bullying the patients into submission as usual. “So what does the label say?”

“Hold your horses. Not so fast. Lemme just put these on and… ‘WE PRISONERS! PLEASE HELP PLEASE!’ Notice how it says Please twice? Whoever wrote this has got good manners. Want me to read it again?”

“No, I think I got it,” she said, holding the phone away from her ear. Gran had shouted the message so loud her eardrum was still buzzing. She watched as three cats came trudging up to her. They were Max, Dooley and Brutus, and they looked like they had some very important news to impart. “Isit all right if I drop by later? I’d like to take a closer look at this note.”

“Sure thing, honey. I’ll be here all day. Sit down, buddy—this is my final warning! SIT! Like I said, I’ll be here all day, helping these nice people.”

Odelia disconnected, and wondered what this was all about. She’d heard about people finding messages in their clothes or household devices. Stuff made in developing countries, where working conditions were appalling. This was probably such a case. It just hurt her heart when she heard stories like that.

“Hey, you guys,” she said, lowering her head to the three cats. “Any news?”

“Yes,” Max said. “The new cat? Diego? He’s got to go. He’s bad news.”

Chapter 5

“That cat’s got to go,” I repeated, in case Odelia hadn’t heard me the first time.

“Yeah, he’s a terrible, horrible animal,” Dooley chimed in.

“He took Harriet away from me,” Brutus said. “Just like that.”

“Hold it, you guys,” said Odelia, laughing. “What are you saying? That you don’t like Diego?”

“That’s exactly what we’re saying,” I said. “He called me fat and orange.”

“And he called me short and dumb,” said Dooley.

“And he put the moves on Harriet,” Brutus finished our lament.

“Oh, and don’t forget he called you fat, too,” Dooley said.

“She doesn’t have to know that,” Brutus said in a low voice. “I may have gained some weight, but not much. And I still work out every day. I climbed a tree just this morning. And I got down all on my own, too.”

“Look, you’ll just have to learn to get along,” Odelia said. “You can’t expect me to kick out Diego. I just told Chase I’d take care of him.”

“You can put him up for adoption,” I suggested. “I bet there are plenty of people out there who’d love to take him in.”

“Unless they have other cats—Diego doesn’t play nice with others,” Dooley said.

“He doesn’t play nice with males. He’s fine with females,” said Brutus.

“A little too nice,” Dooley added.

Odelia shook her head.“What can I say?”

“That you’ll kick him out?” I asked hopefully.

“I can’t do that, Max. I’m afraid Diego is here to stay.”

Dooley, Brutus and I voiced our disagreement loud and clear, but to no avail. Apparently Odelia was set on keeping this Diego in our lives, whether we liked it or not. Just then, Chase returned, and Odelia immediately shut up.

Chase laughed.“You know? It almost looked like you were talking to those cats of yours. It’s the funniest thing.”

She gave him a tight smile.“Sometimes I almost feel like I know what they’re trying to say.”

He studied us.“So what are they saying?”

“I’m not sure, but I think it might have something to do with that cat of yours.”

“Diego? What about him?”

“I think they don’t like him very much.”

He laughed again.“That’s ridiculous. They’re cats. There’s no question of liking each other. They just act on instinct.” It was obvious he’d never given a moment’s thought to the fact that cats might have feelings, too. Just like humans. And that maybe some of us were nicer than others.

“Cats are a lot more like humans than you might think,” Odelia said. “They have likes and dislikes, just like we do.”

“Nonsense. This has got nothing to do with ‘feelings.’ This is about territory. Max is probably upset that a new cat has arrived and he’s going to have to share his space, his food and his litter box.”

I goggled at the man. I hadn’t thought about that. Share my food? And, even worse, share my litter box? No way! “Odelia! I can’t share my litter box! That’s my litter box! Diego can’t go doo-doo in my litter box! That’s just… wrong!”

She ignored me, and asked Chase,“What do you know about Diego?”

He shrugged.“He’s a cat, Odelia. What’s there to know?”

“I mean, about his past, his parentage, his medical history?”

“I’d have to ask Mom, but as far as I know she got him off the street.”

“So he’s a street cat. Did she give him his shots? Is he fixed?”

“I have absolutely no idea.”

She nodded.“I’ll take him to the vet tomorrow. Have him checked.”

“Of course. And I’ll pay for it. Look, I’m sure Max and Diego will get along fine. They just have to get used to each other. I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you.”

“Well, I do worry about it. If I’m going to take Diego into my home, I need to know who I’m dealing with.”

Well spoken, I thought, and I was cheering for her. Maybe this Diego had a violent past, or some other deep, dark secret that he was hiding. Maybe he was like those adopted kids that turn out to be horrible serial killers. I’d seen the movies. I knew it was a thing.

“Look, if you don’t want him, I can always take him back,” Chase offered.

I was practically yipping now, hoping Odelia would take him up on this wonderful offer. This was her chance to get rid of the pest!

“No, that’s all right,” she said, much to my horrified surprise. She stroked my back. “Max will just have to get used to having a new friend. I know it took him a while to get used to having Brutus around, and now look at them. They’re like buddies.”

Odelia and Chase looked down at Brutus and me, sitting side by side, like a couple of chumps.“I think they’re talking about us, Max,” Brutus said.

“Yeah, they seem to think we’re best buds or something.”

Brutus snorted.“As if.”

“Yeah—how ridiculous, huh? Humans are clueless.”

We shared a quick look, then Brutus said,“I liked how you stood up to Diego, by the way. That took guts, Max. I’ve got to hand it to you. You defended hearth and home from that intruder—just like you used to do with me.”

“I know, right? I felt like I had to take a firm line with the cat. And you were great, too. The way you put him in his place? Way to go, Brutus.”

“Thanks. I mean, it’s not my home to defend, but still. He was way out of line.”

“Well, it is your home now, in a way,” I said.

“You really mean that, Max?”

“Sure.Mi casa es su casa and all that, right?”

“Aww. That’s awfully nice of you.”

“Don’t mention it. I feel like we have to stick together and make a stand.”

“Yeah. Let’s put our differences aside and get rid of the new cat.”

“What about me?” Dooley asked. “Issu casa mi casa too, Max?”

“Of course, buddy! You’re my best friend.”

“Thanks, Max. I love you, too.”

Brutus eyed us with a strange look on his face. Then he held out his paw.“Put it there, pals.”

I put it there, and so did Dooley.

“Buds?” asked Brutus.

“Buds,” I said.

“I think they’re actually talking to each other,” Chase said. “It’s way cute.”

“They are talking to each other,” Odelia assured him. “Cats can communicate.”

“So, do you have any idea what they’re saying?” he asked.

“Not a clue,” she said, and gave us a wink.

Chapter 6

Just when their order arrived—an espresso for Chase and a latte for Odelia—Chase got a call from Chief Alec.

“Uh-oh,” he said, disconnecting. “Looks like I gotta run. The Chief managed to locate Serarols.”

“The chef?”

“He’s down at the station now, and he’s asked me to be there when he questions him.”

“Just go. I’ll take care of your espresso.”

He grinned.“I’m sure you will.” He took the espresso and downed it in one gulp. “Just so happens I love espressos, though, so tough luck.”

“You’ll keep me in the loop, right?”

“Sure.” He got up and threw a few bills on the table. “Thanks for the chat—and the update on the world of cats. It was fun—and instructional.”

“See you later, Chase.”

She watched him leave, and noticed not for the first time that he moved with a catlike grace. Like a tiger. Or a panther. It also occurred to her he was a lot more dangerous than she thought when he first just moved into town. She’d never figured she’d ever fall for the cop, and now she found that he was on her mind a lot more than she knew how to handle.

She looked down, and saw that Max, Dooley and Brutus had left. She hated to disappoint them, but she’d already agreed to take Diego in, and she couldn’t go back on her word now. She was pretty sure it would be fine. When Brutus just arrived, Max and Dooley had been equally distraught. And look at them now. They were like buddies these days.

She took a sip of her latte and thought about the case. With so many suspects, it was going to be a matter of deciding who had most to gain from the celebrity chef’s murder. And who’d been in the position to carry out the murder. She imagined it would have had to be a person with considerable physical strength, as it was a tough feat to hoist the chef into the oven.

She looked out across the street at the restaurant, and saw a woman sashay in her direction. She recognized her from several covers ofStar Magazine. Cybil Truscott, the soon-to-be ex-wife of Niklaus Skad. And as luck would have it, she was heading straight for the coffee shop.

The woman, large sunglasses on her nose, her hair a lustrous shiny red, her skin a milky white and dressed in designer threads, was carrying three shopping bags in each hand, all from luxury boutiques. It was obvious she’d just gone on a shopping spree. To celebrate the death of her husband?

Cybil took a seat at the next table, and Odelia leaned over.“Excuse me, but aren’t you Cybil Truscott?”

The woman smiled, and took off her sunglasses, shaking out her gorgeous mane of red curls.“Yes, I am. And you are?”

“Odelia Poole. I’m a reporter for the Hampton Cove Gazette.”

The woman’s smile widened. “Ooh, I love reporters. And they love me.”

Of course they did. Ever since Cybil got married to Niklaus Skad, she’d been tabloid fodder, her pictures appearing on more covers than any other starlet or socialite or celebrity wannabe. She’d been a cocktail waitress before she met Niklaus, and now she wasn’t just famous, she stood to gain a substantial fortune after the death of her husband.

“My condolences,” she said now. “I just heard about your husband.”

“Yes, shocking, isn’t it?” She glanced across the street. “And that’s where it happened. Such a sad ending for such a brilliant man. Then again, there is a certain poetic justice in the fact that he would die in the oven of one of the restaurants he was singling out for his notorious brand of abuse.”

“I didn’t know you were in town,” Odelia said.

“Yes, I’m on vacation. I’m staying at the Hampton Springs Hotel.”

“Did you know your husband would be in town?”

“I had no idea! Of course we hadn’t been in touch lately. We only communicated through our lawyers. Ever since I filed for divorce Niklaus broke off all relations.”

Which stood to reason. She had accused him in several TV interviews of domestic violence and of assaulting her. There were even rumors of him forcing her into accepting a trio with the housekeeper. Odelia had the impression a lot of the stories Cybil had dished were simply a way to get as much out of the divorce as possible. Hoping her famous husband would pay her a large sum of money just to shut her up.

“So you didn’t see him last night?” she asked innocently.

The woman threw her head back and laughed.“Oh, honey, I have to hand it to you. You may be writing for some local rag, but you’re good at what you do. You’re trying to figure out if I killed my husband, aren’t you?”

“Well, you do have a solid motive,” she admitted.

Cybil gave her a shrewd look.“I know what you’re thinking. Niklaus was never going to allow me the divorce settlement I was aiming for. Why not kill the man instead and take it all? And you’re right. With him gone, I stand to inherit his entire fortune. The houses in New York, Vail, Los Angeles, Paris, London and Antibes. The business empire he built. The royalties to his bestselling books. The cars, the yachts, the private jet… You name it, I will get it now. But did I kill him? Of course not. I may be a money-grubbing social climber, like the papers will undoubtedly point out—and Niklaus’s friends and ex-wives have done for years—but I’m not a murderer. Besides, I have one of those things you need when someone is killed. What’s it called? An amoeba?”

“An alibi?”

She snapped her fingers.“That’s it. I’ve got me one of those. Ironclad one, too.”

“And would you care to share your alibi with me?”

She laughed again.“Oh, darling. You’re good, but not that good. I think I’ll keep that for the police. If or when they decide to haul me in for questioning.”

“I work with the police, actually. My uncle is Chief of Police.”

“I see. So that’s why you’re so nosy. And here I thought you were going to write a nice big front-page article about me.” She pouted.

“I will write a nice big article about you,” Odelia promised.

“But only if I tell you about my alibi, right?”

She smiled.“I’ll find out soon enough anyway.”

“From your uncle. I see.” She waved an airy hand. “Just ask the pool boy at the Hampton Springs Hotel. He’ll tell you all you need to know. With all the saucy details you gossip hounds are so crazy about.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I will talk to him.”

Cybil winked.“There’s even pictures. Lots and lots of them. And video.” Then she looked across the street at the yellow-and-black crime scene tape and sobered. “I did like him once upon a time, you know. Niklaus? He was a vulgar man with a cruel streak, but he had passion. Lots of passion, if you know what I mean.”

Odelia had an idea she knew exactly what the woman meant. She didn’t want to know, though. She wasn’t that kind of reporter.

“When we first got together we went at it like bunny rabbits.” She seemed to shake herself, and gave a slight shrug. “But passion fades, and money doesn’t, so…”

“So you decided to cash in your chips before he did?”

“You are smart. What did you say your name was?”

“Odelia Poole.”

The woman took out her smartphone, and before Odelia could stop her had snapped a selfie of the two of them together. She then flicked her long fingernails across the screen for a few seconds and gave a tiny smile.“Done and done,” she said, holding up her phone for Odelia to read.

“Chatting with Odelia Poole, who’s no fool!” she read. “Nice.”

“You don’t have to thank me when the endorsement deals start rolling in, darling. Call it giving something back to the community. After all, I can afford it.”

Odelia left the coffee shop feeling a little queasy. She didn’t know whether Cybil Truscott was a murderer or not, but she was sure she was not a very nice person.

Chapter 7

Brutus went home to check up on Harriet. He’d decided that the best way to deal with this upstart was to cramp his style—make sure Harriet was never alone with him. It was a great idea. Problem was, Harriet had promised to show Diego the town, so by now they could be anywhere.

Dooley and I decided to check out the restaurant. Even though we were a little bit annoyed with Odelia right now, for saddling us up with Diego, we couldn’t let her down. She relied on us to gather valuable information about this murder and we felt we had to help her get it.

“You know, if we catch the killer we could tell Odelia we’re only going to reveal the name if she promises to show Diego the door,” Dooley suggested.

“We can’t do that, Dooley,” I said. “That wouldn’t be right.”

“Is it right she foisted that orange cat on us? I mean—just saying.”

“We have to make it clear to her what kind of cat Diego really is. The moment she knows him like we do, she won’t hesitate to kick him out.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

“Well, I am sure. I trust Odelia. She’s always come through for us, and I’m sure she will come through for us now.”

We’d arrived in the back alley behind the restaurant, hoping to meet a kindred spirit—a fellow feline. We strode over to the dumpster that was parked next to the kitchen entrance and saw that we were right on the money: someone had placed a bowl of milk next to the dumpster, and another bowl withwhat looked like chicken nuggets.

“Yum,” Dooley said, licking his lips. How that cat manages to stay so thin, I don’t know. He never stops eating.

“Don’t touch that, Dooley,” I told him. “That’s not yours.”

“It’s on public property, which makes it everyone’s, including mine.”

“You can’t just go digging into another cat’s bowl. That would make you just as bad as Diego.”

Dooley started.“Are you comparing me to Diego? That’s mean, Max.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s true. This bowl belongs to someone, and that someone isn’t you.”

We stared around, hoping to find this mysterious someone. As far as I could see, there was no one around.“Do you think Harriet is going to fall for Diego?” Dooley wanted to know.

“I don’t think so. She’s smarter than that.”

“She wasn’t smart enough not to fall for Brutus.”

“Well, Brutus isn’t Diego. Diego seems to be way worse than Brutus.”

“They’re pretty much the same, Max. Brutus is just being nice to us now that he needs us. The moment Diego is gone, he’ll be back to his mean old ways.”

That was a scenario I hadn’t considered. “Do you think so?”

“I know so. They’re exactly the same, Brutus and Diego. Big bad bullies.”

“Don’t you think Brutus has changed?”

“No way. Bullies don’t change. If anything they just get meaner and nastier as they get older. I’m telling you, Brutus is just acting like he likes us. Deep down he still hates us.”

“What are you guys talking about?”

I turned around, and saw we’d been joined by a smallish black cat, who sat licking her fur while keeping a keen eye on us and the two bowls. I had no idea where she’d come from. One moment she wasn’t there, the next she was. Like magic.

“Um, hi,” I said. “I’m Max, and this is Dooley.”

“We were talking about another cat,” Dooley said. “A bully.”

“Two bullies, actually,” I said.

The black cat nodded sagely.“Trust me, I know all about bullies. We had one in here this past week. Nastiest bully I’ve ever seen. Drove everyone to tears.”

“You mean Niklaus Skad? The celebrity chef?” I asked.

“That’s the one. Yelling and screaming all day long. Nasty brute.”

“You do know that he was murdered, right?” asked Dooley.

“Oh, sure. It’s the talk of the neighborhood. We were all rooting for this Skad guy to leave soon and take his brand of foul abuse along with him.”

“So do you have any idea who killed him?” I asked.

She shook her head.“No idea. I wasn’t here last night. A buddy of mine was, though. He said there was a car parked out back, right next to that dumpster. A very expensive car.”

“What kind of car?” I asked.

She laughed.“You have to excuse me. I don’t know anything about cars. My buddy said it was a Tesla?” She laughed again. “He said it looked just like my fur. Obsidian black, he calls it. Whatever that is.”

“A Tesla is an electric car,” I said. “There aren’t that many of those around. Did your buddy get a license plate number?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. In fact Fred was just passing by the restaurant—that’s his name: Fred—though I have a sneaking suspicion he was looking for me. He doesn’t want to admit it but I think Fred likes me.”

“That’s nice,” I said, not interested in the cat’s romantic proclivities. “So about that Tesla—did Fred see a driver? Anyone hanging around?”

“Nope. When he told me I figured it probably belonged to Niklaus Skad. He was always arriving in fancy rides. Though he seemed to have a penchant for sports cars.” She pointed to a BMW Roadster that was parked halfway down the alley. “That’s his car right there. He must have arrived and never left.”

Dooley and I stared blankly at the BMW, then my mind turned back to the Tesla. It was significant, and I vowed to tell Odelia first chance I got.

“Oh, my name is Montserrat, by the way,” the black cat said.

“Is that your food, Montserrat?” Dooley asked, pointing at the bowl.

“Dooley!” I hissed.

“What? Just asking.”

Montserrat giggled.“No, that’s not my food, silly. Erin put that out here for the strays. I have my bowl inside. Erin’s taken a liking to me. She works here and makes sure all my needs are met.” She sighed. “I’m sure lucky with her. Do you guys have humans or are you just a couple of strays?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, indignant. “I’m not a stray. Can’t you tell?”

She studied me for a moment.“You look very well fed for a stray. You, on the other hand,” she added, turning to Dooley, “I had pegged as a stray from the moment I saw you. You look… skinny, if you know what I mean. As if you’re gonna die from starvation any second. Actually, if you want, you can eat from the public bowl. Erin put it there for strays like you.”

Dooley gaped at her.“I look like I’m about to die?”

“Yeah, you do, actually,” she confirmed. “So better tuck in, little buddy. Eat your fill before it’s too late. I think Erin even left some fish in there. Go on, then. Don’t be shy.”

“Yeah, Dooley,” I said. “Tuck in. Don’t be shy.”

But Dooley looked crushed.“I suddenly lost my appetite.”

“Actually we both belong to a human,” I told Montserrat. “My human is Odelia Poole? The reporter? And Dooley’s human is Odelia’s grandmother.”

“Oh, so you do have a human,” said Montserrat. “Sorry about that, little buddy. You have to tell her to feed you better. You’re just skin and bones.”

As we left the alley, Dooley was completely discombobulated.

“Do I really look that bad, Max?” he asked.

“You look fine to me, Dooley.”

“But Montserrat said I look like I’m about to die.”

“I’m sure she was exaggerating.”

“Maybe I’ve got some kind of wasting disease. Maybe I’m sick and I don’t even know it!”

“You’re not sick. You’re just skinny. Some cats are skinny, others are big-boned, like me. It’s body type, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”

“But I do worry, Max.” He shook his head. “I should see a doctor.”

“I’m sure you’re fine,” I repeated. “So what about that Tesla, huh? Great clue. I can’t wait to tell Odelia.”

“Maybe I should go see Tex. He’s a doctor, right?”

“Tex is a doctor for humans. You need an animal doctor.”

He gave me a look of panic.“I do?”

“No, I mean, if you WERE sick, which you’re NOT, you would have to see a vet. But since you’re NOT sick, you DON’T, if you see what I mean.” I tried to make my meaning perfectly clear, but Dooley wasn’t having any of it.

“You just said I needed to see an animal doctor, Max. Don’t try to deny it.”

“I’m not denying anything!”

“Yes, you are.” He gave me a penetrating look. “How long have you known, Max? Who else knows? Does Odelia know?”

“Know what?”

“That I’m dying!”

“You’re not dying!”

“You’re all keeping the truth from me. This is a conspiracy!”

Oh, crap. Thank you, Montserrat, I thought. This was just like that time Dooley thought he was a pedigree cat that a famous person had abandoned. For weeks he hounded us with his stories of how Mariah Carey or Katy Perry would come looking for him and how there would be a touching reunion. No matter what I said, he didn’t believe me. This was going to be the exact same thing, I just knew it.

“You’re not dying.”

“So you say.”

“Yes, because I know.”

“How? You’re not a doctor.”

“I know because you look just fine.”

“I’m skin and bone!”

“You’ve always been skin and bone!”

“So maybe I’ve always been sick!”

Yep. This was going to be a long couple of weeks.

Chapter 8

Odelia walked into her dad’s doctor’s office. Tex Poole was Hampton Cove’s resident general practitioner. He was a gregarious man, and good at what he did, so his waiting room was always full. He was one of the last of his kind, as all around Hampton Cove clinics had sprung up, with several doctors combining their skills to offer a full-service medical package. And then there were the concierge doctors, catering to the wealthy, of which the Hamptons boasted more than a few. Tex was an old-fashioned doctor, though, who treated old and young, rich and poor, men or women, of any ailments that might have befallen them.

Odelia found her grandmother presiding over the waiting room as usual, talking on the phone and jotting down a name in the big appointment book. What wasn’t usual was that there was a man seated next to her, a vacuous look on his face, his hand on Gran’s shoulder, and his shirt unbuttoned.

He was an older man that she didn’t recognize, with wrinkled features, bushy brows, a full head of white hair, and quite a lot of hair on his chest as well.

She stared at the man, pulling up short the moment she stepped inside.

“Please don’t be tardy, Mrs. Mueller,” Gran was saying. “Doctor Poole doesn’t appreciate tardiness. If you’re tardy you will have to reschedule.” She hung up and her face creased into a thousand wrinkles the moment her gaze landed on her granddaughter. “Odelia, honey. Am I glad to see you.”

“Um, Gran,” she said, hesitantly approaching the desk. “There’s a man next to you.”

“Oh, this is Leo. I told you about Leo, didn’t I? He’s the one that gave me the cashmere sweater. Leo, say hi to my granddaughter Odelia.”

“Hi,” said Leo, and lapsed into silence once more.

“Leo’s not a talker,” said Gran. “But he makes up for it with his other skills,” she added with a cheeky wink.

“Thanks, Gran. Um, do you mind me asking why Leo is naked?”

Gran eyed her boyfriend for a moment.“Naked? What are you talking about? I don’t see where he’s naked. He’s all dressed up as far as I can see.”

“His shirt is unbuttoned. I don’t think Dad would approve.”

“Leo gets hot,” said Gran. “He’s one of those men that get hot. So he likes to unbutton his shirt, so what?”

“What are the patients going to think?” she asked.

“They can think whatever they want. When you get to my age you stop caring what people think. It’s one of the few blessings of being old.”

Odelia squinched her eyes closed.“Leo?”

The old guy looked up.“Mh?”

“Could you please button up your shirt? And could you please remove your arm from my grandmother’s shoulder? This is a doctor’s office, not a bar. Thank you,” she added when Leo complied. Of course, to button up his shirt, he had to remove his arm from Gran’s shoulder. The minute he’d accomplished this task, the arm was right back, and Gran didn’t seem to mind one bit. It was… awkward.

“What?” Gran asked. “Leo’s a very physical man. I like it.”

“Well, maybe you should get physical on your own time,” she said. “Not when you’re working.”

“Hey, who died and made you boss? Show a little respect for your grandmother. I had men’s arms around me when you weren’t even born.”

“Gran, it just… isn’t proper,” she said, uttering words she’d never thought she’d speak to her grandmother, or to anyone else for that matter.

“Oh, all right,” said Gran, removing Leo’s arm. “But I’m only doing it as a favor to you,” she said. When Leo made a protesting sound, she patted his hand. “I’m off at three, honey. Come and see me then, all right?”

Leo left the office, giving Odelia a very unfriendly glance.

“I don’t think Leo likes me,” Odelia said once he’d left.

“Do you think?”

“I’m sorry, Gran. But I think you can do better than… that.”

“Honey, when you’re as old as I am you can’t take any chances. When you’re lucky enough to get hold of a live one you better hang on. You never know when he’s gonna die on you. Speaking of dying, did you hear about that celebrity chef that got cooked in his own oven?”

“Yes, I’m on the case.”

“And so is Chase, right?” she asked, giving her a saucy wink.

“Yes,” she admitted, staunchly ignoring the wink.

“I like that man. Too bad he’s into you or else I’d have gone after him myself.”

“Yes. You’ve made that abundantly clear, Gran,” she said. “So what’s this about a note in your sweater?”

Gran dumped the sweater on the counter.“This is the sweater,” she said, then plunked down a little piece of paper. “And here is the note. I told Leo and he was so surprised he spoke a complete sentence. First time I’ve heard more coming out of that man’s mouth than grunts and moans. Heh heh heh.”

She held up a hand.“Please, Gran. I don’t need to hear the details.”

“Why not? You might learn a thing or two. Have you and that cop done it already?”

She cast a quick glance at the two women and one man who sat patiently waiting for her dad to call them in. The women were studiously poring over copies ofWoman’s Day andFamily Circle while the man pretended to readField and Stream. She knew they were hanging on her and Gran’s every word, though.

She lowered her voice.“That’s none of your business, Gran!”

Gran arched a finely penciled eyebrow.“Oh? You come in here bitching and moaning about Leo’s buttons and I can’t even ask you a simple question?”

“That’s different. I don’t…” She dropped her voice even more. “I don’t do it where the whole town can see us.”

Gran’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “So you didn’t do it, huh? Thought as much. Better get a move on, girlfriend. A man like Chase won’t wait around forever. And you know what they say about women that don’t put out.”

“No, I don’t,” she said between clenched teeth. “And I don’t care.”

“They’re prudes. And you don’t want to be a prude. That’s the curse of death right there. You’ll never date in this town again. Only guys who’ll still want you are idiots, and you don’t want them mucking up the Poole bloodline.”

“Gran! That’s so wrong on so many levels I don’t even… Ugh.”

“Right or wrong, you better take a page out of my book, honey, or else Chase will chase after some other chick. Now, where were we? Oh, right. The note.”

Odelia, shaking her head, picked up the note. Her grandmother was right. It said,‘WE PRISONERS! PLEASE HELP PLEASE!’ It was a small piece of paper, and the writing was shaky, as if whoever had written it was under great duress.

She turned it over. There was nothing on the other side, and nothing whatsoever to indicate where it had come from. No identification, no clue as to where this person was being held prisoner or when the note was written.

“I think it’s from Russia,” said Gran. “Stalin’s got all those prison camps over there? In Siberia? One of ‘em prisoners must have smuggled out this sweater.”

“So how did the sweater get here? Besides, they don’t have prison camps in Russia anymore, Gran. They went out of fashion when Stalin died, remember? In the nineteen-fifties?”

“So who wrote it then, Little Miss Know-It-All?”

“Lemme see that sweater.” She studied the label. Ziv Riding. “Wow. Pretty expensive.”

Grandma beamed.“I told you. Leo’s into me.”

“Leo must be into you a lot. This is Ziv Riding.”

“Is he famous or something?”

“Only one of the hottest designers working right now. He shot to the top out of nowhere, and he’s been the star of New York Fashion Week three years in a row. Are you sure Leo didn’t steal this from someplace?”

Gran planted her hand on her hip.“Hey. Don’t insult my Leo. I’ll have you know the guy is loaded.”

She gave Gran a crooked smile.“I saw that.”

“Moneywise, smartass. Though you’re right. The guy is packing, if you know what I mean.”

She raised her eyes heavenward.“I don’t think I want to know.”

She studied the sweater some more. Gran had snipped off the wash care label, which had contained the note. So whoever had made this sweater had wanted to cry out for help, and make sure the message went out. But then why hadn’t they also added instructions for whoever found the message? Weird. She decided it wasn’t really worth looking into. She knew that top designers like Ziv Riding had all of their clothes made in countries like Bangladesh or India or the Philippines. So whoever had left this desperate message was way out of reach.

“This is just so horrible,” she said, as she pictured a woman or man or even a child chained down in some sweatshop on the other side of the world, having to make these clothes so they could be bought by rich Westerners, making the designers who exploited these workers even richer.

“Yeah, Ziv Riding is a douche.”

“Well, maybe he doesn’t even know his clothes are made in these sweatshops. A lot of times they just hand over production to a company.”

“Then they should make sure those companies don’t use sweatshops.”

She was right, of course. Then again, there wasn’t much she could do about that from where she stood. So she handed the note back to her grandmother, along with the sweater. “Where did Leo buy this?”

“In one of the boutiques on Main Street. So are you going to expose this Ziv Riding? Are you going to write a tell-all expos? about the guy?”

She shook her head.“I can’t, Gran. I can’t accuse him of anything without more information.”

“So gather more information. You’re a reporter. That’s your job.”

“I’m just a small-town reporter. I don’t write stories like this. I write about a new shop opening on Main Street. Or that traffic lights were out again at the intersection. Or about the council meeting. I don’t expose international scandals.”

“Well, I think you should.” Gran held up the note. “This is an outrage. Those poor people wrote this note hoping someone would find it. Someone with the guts to stand up to people like Riding. Someone who’d save them.”

She held up her hands.“Well, that person isn’t me.”

“Wimp,” Gran muttered, dumping the sweater behind the counter.

“Gee, thanks, Gran. I don’t see you climbing the barricades or picketing outside Ziv Riding’s office.”

“Well, maybe I will,” said Gran. “Maybe me and Leo will do just that.”

Sure. That would make Ziv Riding quake in his designer boots. Gran and Leo picketing his office. When they weren’t too busy smooching.

Chapter 9

Dooley and I passed into the offices of the Hampton Cove Gazette. It wasn’t a difficult feat as the editor kept the door unlocked, in case a member of the public decided to step in and regale him with some fresh story or offer comment on an article he’d written. Dan is a fixture in Hampton Cove, and you can’t miss him. He’s a smallish man with a big, white beardand lots of laugh wrinkles around his eyes. These days he mainly takes care of the business side of running a paper and lets Odelia write the articles.

We passed by Dan’s office, where the editor spent most of his days, and on to Odelia’s, smaller office, right next to his. She was at her desk, pounding away at an article, presumably about the murder. In spite of what you might think, murders rarely happen in Hampton Cove, so when one does happen, it’s a big deal.

“Hey, guys,” she said as we rubbed against her leg. She picked me up and put me on her desk. I proceeded to lie down on her keyboard, easily the best spot in the house as it gets most of Odelia’s attention.

She gently gave me a push, and I reluctantly scooted over, idly playing with her mouse until she took it away from me and placed it out of reach. Humans. Never any fun.

“So we discovered a clue,” I said.

“And I discovered that I’m about to die,” Dooley said morosely.

She stared from me to Dooley, clearly not sure where to begin, so I decided to help her out.“Montserrat, the cat that belongs to Erin Coka, told us her friend Fred saw a black Tesla parked in the alley behind the restaurant last night. And she’s sure it doesn’t belong to the owners of the place or anyone who works there.”

“I’m wasting away,” Dooley announced.

“So whoever killed Niklaus Skad drives an obsidian black Tesla,” I said. “Don’t thank us, thank Montserrat. And Fred.”

“It must be cancer,” Dooley continued. “What else could it be?”

“Um…” Odelia said. “First of all, thanks for the Tesla thing? Secondly, why do you think you’re dying, Dooley?”

“It’s Montserrat’s fault,” I told her. “She may be great at ferreting out crucial information like the killer’s ride, but she sucks at social niceties. Like, she told me I was fat? And then she went and said Dooley must be sick he’s so thin. I mean, who does that, right?”

“Montserrat is right. I am freakishly thin,” Dooley said.

“She didn’t say you were freakishly thin,” I said. “She said you looked like a stray and that your human probably doesn’t feed you enough. There’s a difference.”

“How is that different? She thought I was dying.”

“She didn’t think he was dying,” I told Odelia. “just that he’s thin.”

Odelia looked worried now.“Doesn’t Gran feed you enough?”

“Actually Gran doesn’t feed me anything,” Dooley said.

“Omigod, she doesn’t?”

“No, your mom feeds me. Gran forgets, so Marge took over years ago. She feeds Harriet and me, though Harriet gets special treatment, on account of her fur. She gets something that’s guaranteed to put the shine in a Persian’s fur.”

“So why is it this…”

“Montserrat,” I said helpfully.

“This Montserrat thinks you’re too thin?”

“Because she’s flaky,” I said.

“Because she sees a lot of strays, and she said I look like one.”

“You don’t look like a stray, Dooley,” Odelia said softly, picking up Dooley and depositing him right next to me. “You look like a very healthy, very happy cat.”

“You think so?” he asked hesitantly.

“Sure. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you. You’re just thin, but that’s body type for you. Just like Max here is full-figured.”

“I prefer the term big-boned,” I said. “I have big bones. It’s in my genes.”

“Maybe I could go see a doctor?” Dooley asked. “I do feel a little weak.”

“Sure,” Odelia said, ignoring my groans of exasperation. “Why don’t we go see Vena? That way you can relax. And we better take you, too, Max.”

I gulped.“Me? Go see Vena? Why? I mean, why? Why Vena? Why?”

“Because when we went to see her last year she said you were too big for your size, and she wanted to put you on a diet, remember?”

I remembered. What a horrible suggestion! I’m not too big. It’s my bones. “But I followed the diet,” I reminded her. “I did everything she told me to.”

“Yes, and she also said we should come back in a year so she could check.”

“But… I don’t want to go. I’m fine. I followed the diet. I—I’m good.”

“We’re going,” she said firmly. “End of discussion.”

I gave Dooley an angry look.“This is all your fault,” I grumbled. “If you hadn’t gone all hypochondriac on us this would never have happened.”

“Max, be nice to Dooley. If he thinks there’s something wrong with him, we better have him looked at. And you, mister, were never going to escape Vena.”

“I wasn’t?”

“Of course not. She has you scheduled for next month. But since we’re taking Dooley anyway, she can take a look at you, too.”

I just knew what she was going to say. She was going to say I hadn’t lost enough weight and she was going to put me on that rotten diet again. Eating nothing but diet kibble for six months. No special treats. No chicken liver. No yummy surprises. “Just so you know, that diet stuff tastes like cardboard,” I said.

“Well, you better hope that you lost enough weight, then,” said Odelia.

No sympathy. No sympathy whatsoever. Humans are cruel. Just plain cruel.

“Oh, and we’re taking Diego, too. He has to get his shots and he has to be neutered.”

I shared a happy look with Dooley. Humans. Aren’t they the best?

Odelia tapped her space bar and a video started playing on her screen.

“This is some raw footage fromKitchen Disasters. Niklaus used to upload snippets for his upcoming show to his website. Now watch this.”

I watched this, and so did Dooley. All I saw was this Niklaus guy yelling and screaming at a chubby guy with a chef hat. The chef just kept on decorating a plate, looking thoroughly uncomfortable, his face a very unhealthy pasty white, until Niklaus snatched the plate out of his hands and dumped its contents into a trash can. The chef looked absolutely horrified after that, as if someone had taken his baby and thrown it away.

Odelia pressed the space bar again.“That was Hendrik Serarols being chewed out by Niklaus. Fun stuff, huh?”

“Pretty brutal,” I said.

“Yeah, that Niklaus guy was not very nice,” Dooley commented.

“No, he sure wasn’t,” Odelia said, swiveling in her office chair.

She picked up the phone. When it connected, she said,“Chase, any word on the Echo alibi?”

She pressed a button on her phone, and suddenly we could hear Chase’s voice. “To get the information from Amazon would take weeks, and require a warrant—maybe even a court order. Luckily the Stowes were so kind to let me listen in on their account. Did you know you can play back your own audio recordings and delete them if you want?”

“No, I did not know that. So was it as bad as I think it was?”

“A lot of moaning and giggling. Turns out they asked Alexa to give them instructions.”

“Instructions on what?”

He laughed.“What do you think, Poole? How to clean the sink? They asked Alexa to read them the entireKama Sutra. They got to chapter five last night. And they ordered a bunch of saucy stuff on Amazon as well.”

I could see that Odelia was blushing slightly, and I wondered what this Kama thing was. I nudged Dooley, but he was still looking depressed. No amount of giggling and moaning could cheer him up.

“So their alibi checked out, huh?”

“Pretty much. First time I had to listen in on a couple’s recordings with the couple present. Brainard looked pretty proud of himself. Isabella? Not so much. She looked like she’d rather be anywhere but there. Still, it got them off the hook, so I’m guessing they’re fine.”

“So that’s one suspect you can scratch from your list.”

“Unfortunately, yes. What have you got so far?”

“I talked to Mrs. Niklaus Skad. Also known as Cybil Truscott.”

And while Odelia regaled Chase with the story of her meeting with Mrs. Truscott, I jumped from the desk, and so did Dooley. Frankly I’d heard enough. The investigation was still nowhere, and what was even worse: I was going to have to face Vena Aleman again, my worst nightmare. Not that the veterinarian is a bad person. She’s not. But she has this penchant for needles. It seems that each time Odelia takes me to see her she has to stick a needle in me. I hate it. They say it’s for my own good, but I doubt it. I secretly suspect her of being a sadist. And a sadist with a medical degree is a very bad thing. Especially for us cats, who are pretty much defenseless.

“So are you happy with yourself now, Dooley?” I asked as we left the Happy Bays Gazette office and ambled down the street. “Now you’ve got us both going to Vena again. And you know what happens when we go to Vena. We get stuck with needles. Needles in the butt, needles in the neck, needles in the tummy. You name it, she sticks it.”

“If only one of her needles will save my life,” said Dooley.

I had to admit he did look like he was about to die. All because of the power of suggestion.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. Since there’s nothing wrong with you Vena will just give you a clean bill of health and a hit with the needle. Me? She’s going to put me on that scale again and decide I’m still too fat for my size and she’s going to put me on a dietand stick me with the needle.” I sighed. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

At least Vena would neuter Diego. It was a small consolation.

“Do you think Vena can cure cancer?”

“If she could, she’d be a billionaire now.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He gave me a sad look.“I want you to know I’ve always considered you my best friend, Max. And when I’m gone, could you look after Harriet for me?”

“You look after Harriet. You’re going to outlive us all, buddy. It’s the thin ones that live to be forty.”

“Forty? There’s no cat alive who’s forty.”

“There was this one cat who lived to be thirty-eight. She’s in the Guinness Book of Records. I’m sure someone will best her and beat her record one day.”

“Well, it won’t be me,” Dooley said gloomily. “I won’t live another week.”

I groaned. Was I really going to have to listen to this for much longer?“You’re fine, Dooley. Even Odelia said you’re fine.”

“Odelia’s no doctor.”

“Her dad’s a doctor.”

“So?”

“So it’s in her genes. That kind of stuff runs in the family.”

He gave me a dubious look.“Being a doctor is a genetic thing?”

“Sure,” I lied brazenly. “Didn’t you ever watchDiagnosis: Murder? Dick Van Dyke’s son was a doctor, too, remember? It’s all in the genes!” He seemed to perk up, so I continued. “So when Odelia tells you you’re fine, you can rest assured she knows what she’s talking about. She’s got the, um, doctor gene.”

“You’re not saying that just to make me feel better?”

I was saying that to makeme feel better.“Of course not! Everybody knows that’s how it works. Trust me. Odelia knows.”

He bobbed his head.“Thanks, Max. It’s like a weight off my shoulders.”

I clapped my paw on those same shoulders.“You’re fine, buddy! The picture of health!”

“Phew. And here I was thinking I was a goner.”

“Imagine that.”

He shivered.“I’ve imagined that ever since we talked to Montserrat, so no thank you. I won’t be imagining that anymore. I was actually feeling really sick.”

“Power of the mind, Dooley. It’s all up here.” I tapped his noggin.

“What is up there, Max?”

In his case? Not much.“Your mind, Dooley. Whatever your mind pictures, your body carries out.”

“So, if my mind pictured a nice juicy chicken wing, my body will somehow get it for me?”

“Sure,” I said. “You just have to think hard enough and it’ll happen.”

“Wow, that’s great, Max. Why don’t I try that right now?” And he closed his eyes, presumably thinking very hard about chicken wings.

You’re telling me that wasn’t a very nice thing to do to my best friend? I think it was the best thing I could have done. At least he wasn’t thinking about his imminent death anymore. Now he was thinking about the imminent death of a chicken. Hey, better a dead chicken than a dead Dooley, right?

Chapter 10

When Odelia ended the conversation with Chase she discovered that Max and Dooley had skedaddled. Which didn’t surprise her. Max hated going to the vet, and Dooley seemed convinced he was about to die. She got up from her desk and found Dan leaning against the doorjamb.

“So? How’s the investigation going?”

“So far the most likely suspect is the chef.”

“Isn’t it always?” he quipped with a twinkle in his eye.

“Chase seems to be convinced the couple running the restaurant didn’t do it, and I talked to Skad’s wife and she claims she has a solid alibi.”

“Which you will undoubtedly go check.”

“Undoubtedly,” she said with a smile.

“So did I hear you talking to your cats again?” Dan asked.

“Dooley isn’t feeling well,” she said cautiously. Dan didn’t know she could talk to her cats, though she suspected he had some idea of what was going on. They’d never discussed it, though, and she wasn’t going to risk her career at the newspaper by admitting that her cats were the source of many of her best and most exclusive stories.

“I can imagine it must be quite a burden looking out for—how many cats do you have now?”

“Four—and it’s not a burden. My mom and Gran take care of them, too, so it’s no biggie.”

“You know, when I hired you all those years ago, I partly did so because I figured you were young and you were going to go after the stories with the freshness and zeal that I’m lacking, due to my advanced age.”

“You’re not old, Dan,” she protested.

“Wait,” he said, holding up his hand. “Let me finish. But I also hired you on a hunch. Someone had told me once that the Poole women are special. That they have a feline streak. That they understand cats more than the rest of us do. My hunch proved correct. You’re a better reporter than I ever was, and that’s saying something, as I launched this damn paper.”

She wondered what he was trying to say, if anything.“Thanks, Dan. That’s high praise coming from you.”

“You take good care of those cats for me, won’t you? And tell them thanks.”

She reddened.“I, um—I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. Cats can’t talk.”

“No, but they can listen. And they ask the right questions.” He tapped his nose. “And that, my dear, are the hallmarks of a great reporter.”

She left the office wondering if she shouldn’t have protested more. Now it looked like she was accepting Dan’s idea that somehow she could talk to her cats. Then again, she hadn’t admitted anything, and if she knew Dan, she was sure he’d keep her secret.

She arrived at the police station and saw that Chase’s car was gone. She walked into the squat one-story building and breezed past Dolores, who manned the front desk. She gave her a wave and walked right through to her uncle’s office at the end of the hallway. She knocked and stepped inside without waiting for a reply.

Her uncle was sitting with his feet up on his desk when she entered, and she took a seat across from him, also putting her feet up.“So Max and Dooley talked to Erin Coka’s cat Montserrat, who told them another cat, this one called Fred, not that it matters, saw a black Tesla parked in the alley behind the restaurant last night. Just thought you’d like to know.”

Her uncle took pad and pencil and wrote down,“Anonymous witness sees black Tesla parked in alley behindFry Me for an Oyster.” He looked up. “Plates?”

“No plates.”

He smiled.“That would have been too easy. Anything else your feline detectives discovered?”

“I found out something.” She told him about her conversation with Cybil Truscott and her uncle whistled.

“Now there’s a nice, juicy suspect if I ever saw one. Motive, opportunity… I think she might even have managed to get the body up in the oven. Big, strong woman, right?”

“Not big, but I’ll bet pure rage would have fueled her. She’s the vindictive type.”

“Real ball-buster, huh?” He picked up his pad again, and wrote, tongue between his teeth, “Talk to pool boy at Hampton Springs Hotel.”

“Any word from the coroner?”

“Just got a call from him, as a matter of fact. Found a fortune cookie in the victim’s stomach.”

“A fortune cookie? What did it say?”

“Someone special will soon enter your life.”

“Huh. Guess that must have referred to the killer.”

“He or she certainly left an indelible impression.”

They shared a smile. Gallows humor was typical for cops and reporters alike.“What else did he find? Cause of death?” she asked.

Uncle Alec shook his head and shifted his bulk in his chair, which creaked under his weight.“Abe says it’s hard to figure out what happened when the integrity of the body has been compromised to such an extent. He’s still trying to find out, but so far he couldn’t determine cause of death.”

“Maybe toxicology will tell us something.”

“It certainly wasn’t a bullet that killed him, or a blow to the head. That would have been obvious. Strangulation? Impossible to determine. Knife wound? So far nothing indicates he was stabbed.”

“What happens if Abe isn’t able to discover a cause of death?”

“It’ll just make things a little harder for us. We won’t have a murder weapon to look for, or an MO to use to pinpoint the killer.”

She nodded.“So Chase told me about the Echo?”

Her uncle laughed.“Yeah, that was something. And good thing they decided to come clean. Getting Amazon to release the recordings would have been tricky.”

“I think it’s smart they came forward. They must have known they’d be the prime suspects until their alibi was confirmed.”

“Maybe you and Chase could get one of these Echo contraptions. Spice up your love life.”

She gave him a dark look.“Chase and I have no love life to spice up. We’re not dating, Uncle Alec.”

“Then maybe you should start. I think you guys would be great together. I know for a fact he likes you, Odelia. Likes you a lot.”

“He… he told you?”

“He didn’t have to. I can tell from the way he talks about you. He admires the hell out of you. Thinks you’d make a great detective.”

“That’s because he doesn’t know… my little secret.”

“He doesn’t have to know. Besides, even without Max and Dooley you still make a great detective. You just have a knack for it.”

“Thanks. It’s just that… what if he found out? I mean, not just for me. I have to think about Mom and Gran, too. Nobody can find out. They’d just label us freaks. And the attention that would garner would destroy us.”

“Nobody is going to find out, honey,” he said softly. “And even if Chase got an inkling, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. And he definitely wouldn’t tell on you.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s much harder to keep something like that a secret when you’re involved with a person.”

“Of course. And if you are serious about him, I think sooner or later you’re going to have to come clean.”

She shook her head.“Never. I’d rather not date him than tell him.”

“Then you’d be making a big mistake,” he warned her.

“It would be an even bigger mistake to tell him,” she insisted. “He wouldn’t understand. Nobody does.”

“I do.”

“That’s different, Uncle Alec. You’re family. You grew up with it. Chase is—”

“Chase could be family. I know the boy, Odelia. He’s got a good heart.”

She was still shaking her head when the Chief’s phone rang. He picked up with a jovial, “Lay it on me!” He listened for a moment, then his face fell and he removed his feet from the desk. “Well, I’ll be damned. Are you sure it’s her? Uh-huh. Okay. I’ll be right over.” He hung up and stared at Odelia.

“Well? What is it?” she insisted.

“It’s your grandmother. There’s been an incident.”

Her heart constricted as she shot up from her chair.“Is she all right?”

The Chief grinned.“More than all right, apparently. There’s talk of indecent exposure.”

She closed her eyes.“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. Several beachgoers complained to one of the lifeguards near Pyke Point that an old woman and an old guy were going at it on the beach, in full view of the other visitors. The lifeguard called the cops and your gran and the guy have both been placed under arrest.” He shook his head. “I never thought that the day would come I’d have to bust my own mother for lurid behavior.”

“If it’s any consolation, I never thought the day would come I’d be embarrassed by my own grandmother.”

“Well,” said Uncle Alec, getting up and slipping on his gun belt. “The day has come, honey. So let’s see what she’s got to say for herself, shall we?”

Chapter 11

Dooley and I were strutting our stuff along the beach. Dooley had been trying hard to picture a nice fat juicy chicken wing but so far he wasn’t having any luck.

“It’s not working, Max,” he lamented.

“Just keep on trying. You have to give it some time.”

“But I’m trying very hard.”

“Creating stuff with your mind is just like with all other stuff, Dooley,” I told him sternly. “It takes a lot of practice.”

“Do you think so?”

“Sure! Do you think Beyonc? popped out of the womb and sang like a nightingale? Of course not! Or do you think Garfield could eat all of that lasagna straight out of the gate? The cat had to train his stomach! Took years!”

“Yes, I see,” he said, nodding seriously. “So if I keep on trying it’ll happen, right?”

“It will happen, Dooley,” I assured him. “You just keep on visualizing chicken wings and they will come flying. At first maybe you’ll just get a few feathers, then maybe a bone, but eventually the chicken wings will come your way and you’ll be able to feast on them to your heart’s content.”

“All right,” he finally said, fully convinced now. “Like you said, it all takes practice. So I’ll just practice very hard from now on. Practice practice practice. I’ll be thinking about chicken wings morning, noon and night and they will come.”

“That’s the spirit,” I said, glad he’d finally stopped moaning about his imminent death. So what if chicken wings would dominate our conversations from now on? It was way better than talk about dying, right?

We hopped up on a bench some smart town planners had placed along the boardwalk and gazed out across the ocean. That’s the beauty of a town like Hampton Cove. When being cooped inside your home gets too much for you, you take a stroll along the beach and sniff up some of that refreshing ocean breeze. You have to ignore the thousands of tourists that occupy the beach, of course, sizzling in the sun. It’s a custom I’ve never gotten my head around. Who wants to voluntarily go lie on the sand to be baked alive? I just don’t get it. Good thing us cats are way smarter than that. You’ll never find us slathering ourselves in oil to be broiled or saut?ed.

Humans. They’re nuts. But what are you gonna do?

And we sat there watching men building castles out of sand, women jumping over waves, kids filling buckets and then pouring them out again and other humans engaging in other equally pointless activities when suddenly there was some kind of altercation not far from where we sat.

“Hey,” Dooley said, giving me a nudge. “Isn’t that Grandma Poole?”

Grandma Poole’s name isn’t actually Poole but Muffin. Vesta Muffin. But for convenience’s sake everyone calls her Grandma Poole. Sounds a lot better than Grandma Muffin. I glanced over to where Dooley was pointing. An elderly woman and an elderly man were lying on a beach towel, hugging and kissing. And from what I could see, there was some nekkid involved.

“Are you sure? I don’t think Gran would ever—oh, heck, you’re right. It’s Gran, all right.”

“Of course it’s Gran. Do you really think I wouldn’t recognize my own human? But what is she doing, Max?”

“Um…” Now this was going to be awkward. “Remember whenBasic Instinct was on television the other night? And Odelia switched it off because there were parts that she felt uncomfortable to let us watch?”

“Oh, yes. That was way weird, huh? Some woman in some bed with some man and then suddenly there was a knife and then the woman had no clothes on?”

“Yes, that was way weird. Well, the same thing is happening with Grandma Poole right now. So I think we better not watch, Dooley.”

“You think watching it will be bad for us, Max?”

“It might be bad for our sense of taste,” I said.

We weren’t the only ones who’d noticed the frolicking old folks. Some parents close to the couple were averting their children’s eyes, while one guy was brazenly filming everything with his smartphone. Then a few irate parents approached the nearest lifeguard, who got on the phone.

“Uh-oh,” I said. “Looks like Gran’s in trouble.”

“You mean Odelia will be cross with her?”

“I think everyone will be cross with her.” Not that she’d mind. Gran doesn’t care. She does whatever she wants and listens to no one. She’s a free spirit who gets more and more out of control with each passing year. At least that’s what Odelia’s mom Marge always says. I don’t know if it’s true. Seems to me that when you’re as old as Gran, most people give you a free pass. But not today. As we watched, a police vehicle trundled up.

“Are the police going to arrest Gran?” Dooley asked.

“Looks like it. Though I’m sure that once they realize she’s the Chief’s mother, they might reconsider.”

“Why is that?”

“Because if they’re like most people, they like to hang on to their jobs.”

“You mean Uncle Alec will fire them if they arrest Gran?”

“Maybe not fire them outright, but he’ll definitely reprimand them.”

“What’s reprimand?”

“What you get when what you do isn’t what others think you should do.”

“You mean like when Brutus and Harriet got together and I didn’t like it?”

“Exactly like that.”

“I should have reprimanded Brutus.”

“He would have beaten you.”

“I can never win, can I?”

“Nope. That’s why we snitch on Brutus so Odelia can reprimand him.”

We watched as the officers approached Gran and her gentleman friend. Gran was talking very loudly, as if offended that anyone would be offended. Her friend just sat there, looking like the Sphinx of Giza. Yes, I watchNational Geographic. And theDiscovery Channel.

“Looks like they’re reprimanding Gran,” Dooley said. “And she’s reprimanding them.”

“And here’s Chief Alec to reprimand them all,” I said.

The Chief and Odelia had driven up in the Chief’s squad car and parked just next to our bench. He quickly descended the few steps to the beach and trudged through the powdery sand, looking none too happy.

Odelia joined us on the bench.

“So what happened?” she asked.

“Well, it was just like inBasic Instinct,” Dooley said. “But without the knife. And when Max told me to look away, I did,” he quickly added.

Odelia laughed.“Good for you. Watching that could have scarred you for life.”

Dooley’s eyes went wide. “You think so?”

“Didn’t I tell you? She’s a doctor,” I said. “She knows.”

Dooley gulped.“Good thing I looked away when I did. My health isn’t what it used to be and I don’t think I should take any chances right now.”

“I’m not a doctor, Max,” Odelia said.

“No, but your dad is, and that kind of thing runs in the family,” I said, desperately winking at her in the hope she would catch my drift.

She arched an eyebrow.“Oh, I see what you mean. Because I said Dooley is in perfect health, right?”

“Right!” I said, nodding.

“What’s wrong with your eye, Max?” Dooley asked worriedly.

“Oh, just a twitch,” I said. “I get it from time to time.”

“You shouldn’t have watched Gran and that old man,” he scolded me. “Now see what you’ve done. Your eye will never be the same.”

Odelia leaned in and took a look at my eye.“Mh,” she said with a faux-serious look on her face. “I think I’ll be able to save it, Max.”

Dooley sighed with admiration.“I’m so glad you’re a doctor, Odelia. What would Max do without you? Or me, for that matter? I thought I was dying, and you saved me. And you, of course, Max. You’re the best friend.”

“Thanks, Dooley. I love you, too,” I said.

“And thanks to Max I’m going to get all the chicken I want,” Dooley continued.

“Oh? Is that a fact?” Odelia asked, her lips twitching into a smile.

“Max explained to me how the power of the mind can accomplish anything. So I’ve been thinking about chicken wings nonstop, and soon they’re going to start materializing. I’ll have more chicken wings I’ll know what to do with!”

“Just be careful you don’t start thinking about Gran and that old man,” Odelia teased. “Or else that’s what you’ll get instead of chicken.”

Dooley’s lips formed in a perfect O. “Oh. My. God! And now Gran and that old manare all I can think of! What is this witchcraft?!”

“Just relax, Dooley,” Odelia said. “I was just teasing you. Your mind may be strong, but it’s not that strong. But I think you’ll find that if you just ask Gran for a piece of chicken, she’ll be happy to give it to you.”

“Unless she’s in jail,” I said, gesturing at Chief Alec going toe to toe with his mother.

“She’s not going to jail,” Odelia assured us. “She’s just going to get a slap on the wrist.”

“And a reprimand,” Dooley added.

Odelia laughed.“I see you’ve been adding new words to your vocabulary. Well done, Dooley.”

“Max taught me. He’s been teaching me a lot.”

Odelia cut a critical eye at me.“So I see. Maybe too much, huh, Max?”

I shrugged.“Just trying to help.”

“Yeah, right,” she said with a smirk.

Gran got dressed, and so did the elderly gentleman she was having relations with. All around, people were watching, and the man with the smartphone was still filming. This whole thing would probably be on the Internet tonight.

“Show’s over, folks!” the Chief was shouting, holding up his hands. “Go back to your business. And you, you better stop filming, buddy,” he told the man.

An older couple had posted themselves next to us. They were shaking their heads in disapproval.“The exact same thing happened last night at the hotel,” the woman told Odelia apropos of nothing.

“These two were at the hotel?” Odelia asked.

“No, not these two. Another couple. We’re staying at the Hampton Springs Hotel,” the woman explained. “And down by the pool Cybil Truscott was behaving very inappropriately with the pool boy.” She pursed her lips disapprovingly. “They were… fornicating. On the pool beds! Right under our noses! I couldn’t sleep so I caught the whole thing. An absolute disgrace!”

“We complained to management, of course,” said her husband.

“Not that they’ll do anything,” the woman added. “Because Cybil Truscott is a star, and we’re just lowly guests of the hotel. So she can get away with murder.”

Odelia looked up, and both Dooley and I pricked up our ears.“Murder?” Odelia asked.

“Just a figure of speech,” said the woman. “Though I’m sure she could get away with murder. Did you hear about her husband that got killed last night?”

“But if she was… fornicating right under your noses, surely she couldn’t have done it,” Odelia said.

The woman frowned. This hadn’t occurred to her. “Well, no, but she could have hired a person to do it for her.”

“Like a hitman,” said her husband. “Those rich folks do it all the time. Don’t like your husband? Pay someone to kill him. It’s a common thing in Hollywood.”

I didn’t know about that, and neither did Odelia, apparently, for she wrinkled her nose dubiously. “Did you tell the police about the pool boy thing?”

“Oh, no!” said the woman. “Far be it from us to get involved with the police.”

“I’m sure the police know all about it,” her husband clarified. “I mean, the entire hotel saw the lurid scene! They were all on their balconies, shaking their heads in absolute dismay.”

“But that didn’t keep them from watching,” Odelia muttered.

Grandma came trudging up to us, and the tourists stalked off, their faces contorted into expressions of condemnation.

“Alec says he’ll give me a ride home,” Gran said. “Not that I want a ride home, mind you. I was having so much fun with Leo, until some people started complaining.” She gave a disgusted grunt. “I just wish they’d all mind their own business for a change. I mean, what’s wrong with having a little fun at the beach?”

“There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun as long as you don’t do it in front of a bunch of families with kids, Gran,” Odelia said. “So please don’t do it again, all right?”

“Now that’s a reprimand,” I whispered to Dooley.

“That’s what I figured,” he whispered back. He stole a glance at Gran. “So do you think it’s too soon for me to ask for that piece of chicken?”

Chapter 12

Chief Alec drove Odelia and Gran to the Hampton Springs Hotel. Odelia wanted to check the story of Cybil Truscott and the pool boy so they could scratch the widow off their list of suspects. They entered the hotel and the Chief asked the clerk at the reception desk about the incident of last night. The clerk immediately blushed.

“Um, yes, that happened,” the young man said. He had red hair and freckles and a hard time suppressing a grin.

“So where can we find the male star of this auspicious event?” the Chief asked.

The guy gestured at the pool area.“Dale’s working today, though from the looks of things he won’t be for much longer.”

“Why is that?” Odelia asked.

“Hotel rules. We’re not supposed to get too friendly with the guests.”

“And Dale broke that rule,” the Chief said, nodding.

“He got way too friendly,” he said, that grin finally breaking through. “Way and way too friendly from what I heard.”

“Right,” said the Chief, tapping the desk. “Thanks, buddy.”

They walked outside, and Gran said,“I don’t get it. This Truscott woman can make a spectacle of herself in front of the entire hotel and I can’t even spend some time at the beach with my lover? That’s just not right, Alec!”

“There’s a difference between what people do in the privacy of their pool in the middle of the night and what they do on a public beach during the day,” he grumbled.

“But this isn’t Truscott’s private pool. This is the hotel pool.”

“Nobody complained,” the Chief said. “No complaint, no problem.”

“I should have ducked behind the bushes,” Gran grumbled. “But Leo doesn’t like the bushes. Says it feels too sneaky. And he doesn’t like sneaky.”

“Sounds like Leo is quite a pistol,” said Uncle Alec.

“Sounds like Leo is a bad influence,” Odelia said.

She shared a look with her uncle.“Or the other way around,” the latter muttered. She smiled. He just might be right. Leo didn’t really look like the kind of guy who’d go out of his way to cause trouble. In fact he looked one cardiac arrest away from a trip to the morgue. If anyone was the pistol here, it was Gran.

They stepped onto the paved pool area and searched around for the infamous pool boy. There were plenty of hotel guests lounging on pool beds and chaise lounges, sipping cocktails and reading the latest summer bestseller. Then she spotted a young man messing around with what looked like a filter near the edge of the pool. He was tan with brown hair, dressed in blue dolphin boxers and looked way too young to be entertaining Mrs. Truscott in the middle of the night.

They headed over while Gran made herself comfortable on one of the chaise lounges. Chief Alec had sworn not to let his mother out of his sight for the rest of the day, or anywhere near Leo. His officers had wanted to put her under arrest, but when they discovered who she was, had balked at the prospect of arresting their boss’s mother. To save face, Alec had told them he’d personally guarantee something like this didn’t happen again. At least not today.

“Hey there, son,” the Chief said as they approached the kid.

He looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun.“Yes?”

“Alec Lip. Chief of Police. Can I have a word with you?”

The kid rose to his feet. He looked like he’d been expecting this. “Yes?” His eyes darted to Odelia, a question mark forming on his face.

“Oh, this is Odelia Poole. My niece. She’s helping me investigate the murder of Niklaus Skad. So it’s Dale, right? Dale….”

The kid licked his lips. He didn’t look a day over twenty. “Dale Hoover, sir.”

“Well, Dale Hoover, we’re trying to ascertain the whereabouts of Niklaus Skad’s wife last night. I believe you’re familiar with Cybil Truscott?”

“I… I don’t believe I am, sir. Is she a guest at the hotel?”

“Oh, yes, she is. And we heard youare familiar with Mrs. Truscott.” He gave Dale a knowing look. “Very familiar, if you know what I mean.”

“I—I’m sure I don’t know, sir,” Dale stammered, blushing beneath his tan.

“You and Cybil were seen going at it last night in the pool,” Odelia explained.

“At it? I don’t know…”

“Come on, son. I don’t have to draw you a picture, do I?” the Chief asked.

“The entire hotel saw you, Dale,” Odelia said. She gestured up, and Dale followed her gesture. His face fell. The entire hotel was built around the pool area, five floors of balconied rooms all looking out across the pool.

“Oh…” he said, now looking positively mortified. “Oh, well damn.”

“Yes, that’s the expression I would have used,” said the Chief with a sympathetic smile. “I take it you didn’t know you had witnesses?”

“No, I did not, sir,” said the kid, gulping slightly.

“One thing you should know about women like Cybil Truscott, son,” said the Chief. “They love attention. In fact they crave it. So while you may not have been aware that this spot is a very public one, even at night, she certainly did.”

“I was expecting her to invite me up to her room, but she insisted we stay here. She said the water…” He gulped again. “The water acted like an aphrodisiac.”

“Right,” Odelia said skeptically. More like the attention.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Dale?” asked the Chief.

He nodded.“High school sweetheart, sir. If she finds out about this…”

“I’ll bet she won’t be too well pleased.”

“Please don’t tell her about it,” he pleaded.

“I’m not going to tell her anything, but stuff like this is bound to come out sooner or later. Especially since a bunch of those folks up there on those balconies had phones, and it’s more than likely a few of them filmed the whole thing.”

“Oh, crap,” he said, raking his hands through his hair. “Oh, God.”

“You better tell her yourself,” Odelia said. “Before she hears it from a ‘friend.’ Or, worse, gets a link to the video.”

He nodded, now looking a little pale around the nostrils.“I will, Miss Poole. I will tell her the moment my shift ends.”

“And next time you want to get involved with a hotel guest, think twice, Dale,” the Chief admonished him.

“Yes, sir,” said Dale.

They left the kid looking absolutely crestfallen.“It’s not going to happen again,” Odelia told her uncle. “Because he won’t be working here for much longer.”

“He won’t be working here for much longer, but he’ll work at some other hotel, and the same thing will happen again. He’s a handsome looking kid, and women like Cybil Truscott prey on young men like him, just for their own personal satisfaction.” He shook his head. “At least now we knowshe didn’t kill her husband.”

“Unless she hired a hitman.”

He laughed.“Is that your latest theory?”

“Just something I heard from some tourists. Turns out all Hollywood stars hire hitmen to kill their spouses these days. It’s the latest craze.”

“Gee, I didn’t know that. Pretty bloody custom, if you ask me.”

They reached the chaise lounge Gran had selected for her own. She was sleeping soundly, her head back and her mouth open, snoring softly.

“Maybe we should let her sleep?” Odelia suggested. “She’s had a rough day.”

“She had a rough day? I had a rough day. She can sleep at home,” he said. He reached down and shook her shoulder. “Wake up, Mom. Time to go home.”

She opened her eyes and licked her lips.“I just had the most wonderful dream. Leo was suddenly fifty years younger but he still wanted me.” Then her eyes fell on Dale Hoover. “Oh, my. Looks like my dream just came true.”

“Not happening, Mom,” said Uncle Alec. “The kid is already spoken for.”

“And in enough trouble with his girlfriend as it is,” Odelia added.

“Dang,” Gran said, getting up with a groan. “Why is it that the good ones always are? I could have used a young ‘un for a change.”

“Let’s get you out of here before you cause a fuss,” said Alec.

“I don’t cause a fuss,” she said. “I never cause a fuss. It’s the others that cause all the fuss. Damn bunch of busybodies. There should be a law against people messing with other’s business.” She gave her son a keen look. “You’re a cop, Alec. Can’t you make a law against nosy parkers?”

“I wish I could,” he said with a grin. “But if I did you’d be the first to be thrown in jail, and we can’t have that now, can we?”

“You’d throw your own mother in jail?”

“The law is the law. Can’t bend it just for you, Mom.”

“Oh, hell. What good is it to have a cop for a son if he can’t even keep you out of jail?”

“I kept you out of jail now, didn’t I? Indecent exposure is a serious offense, Mom.”

“Poppycock. It’s the beach. Everybody’s indecently exposed. It’s ageism is what it is. Pure ageism. There should be a law against ageism.”

And so it went on, until they arrived at the library. Odelia was glad to drop Gran off with her mom. She loved her to pieces, but a little of the old woman went a long way, and for now she’d had more than her fill.

Chapter 13

We got home fully expecting to find Brutus and Harriet in the throes of a touching make-up scene. Instead, the moment we walked in, we were shocked once again. Just like on the beach, Dooley and I were forced to close our eyes when we caught Diego and Harriet on the couch—my couch!—doing the kind of stuff Odelia had warned Gran about.

“Omigod!” Dooley cried, immediately averting his eyes. “It burns! It burns, Max!”

Unlike Dooley, I had the opposite reaction. I couldn’t stop staring. It was like a train wreck. I just couldn’t look away. All I saw was a lot of orange, a lot of white, and a lot of pink. In my own home! On my own couch!

This was just too much. This was just… And then I heard it. A soft sobbing sound. It seemed to come from somewhere nearby. I glanced at Dooley, thinking it was him, but he was still squeezing his eyes tightly shut. The sobbing seemed to come from somewhere close by, though. So I went in search of it, and then I saw a shadow flit by.It was a dark shadow, and it hurtled past us with such speed that it was like a black blur. The shadow streaked out the window and was gone.

Harriet and Diego didn’t seem to mind that they’d suddenly gained an audience. They just kept smooching and making weird kissing sounds. Yuck.

So I walked out, gesturing for Dooley to come along. But since he still had his eyes closed, that didn’t work.

“Dooley,” I hissed. “Let’s get out of here!”

“I’m not opening my eyes, Max,” he promised me. “No way am I opening them. If I do I might not survive. And since my health isn’t what it used to be, I’m not taking any chances!”

“Oh, all right,” I grumbled, and guided him to the French windows and out.

The fresh air did me a world of good.“You can open your eyes now,” I said. “We’re safe.”

He first opened one eye, then the other one, and looked relieved.“Phew, that was a close call, huh?”

“Yeah. Did you see that shadow? No, of course you didn’t.”

“I did hear the sobbing,” he said. “Do you think that was Brutus?”

I eyed him intently.“You think so?”

He nodded.“Imagine walking in on your girlfriend with… that.”

I shivered.“Yeah, I see what you mean.”

We both looked at the house next door, where Dooley lived with Brutus and Harriet. The hedge between the two gardens had a large hole in it, and we slipped through it, preparing ourselves for the worst. Then I halted.“Are you sure we should get involved? I mean, Brutus isn’t exactly our buddy.”

“I think everybody needs a friend in their hour of need, Max,” Dooley said earnestly. “Even though Brutus isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, he’s a cat in need.”

“Oh, all right,” I said on a sigh, and we padded into the next backyard. And there he was. The big, bad brute. Sitting on the back porch swing and crying his heart out. Even though I’d never gotten along with the cat, my heart went out to him.

We hopped up on the swing and glanced at one another. I’m not exactly the world’s best Samaritan. I mean, if I applied to work at the crisis counseling hotline they probably wouldn’t accept me.

I cleared my throat awkwardly.“There, there,” I murmured, raising my paw to clap Brutus on the shoulder. “There’s a lot of other cats out there.”

In response, he just sobbed louder, his shoulder shaking.“Go away!”

“Max!” Dooley hissed. “Not helping!”

“I don’t see you trying!” I hissed back.

“I went through this, you know,” Dooley told Brutus.

“Just… go away!” Brutus sniffed, turning away from us. It was obvious he was embarrassed that we would see him like this.

“It’s actually a funny story,” said Dooley, undeterred. “You came into our lives and got involved with Harriet and I was the one feeling sad.”

“It’s karma,” I said.

“Max!” Dooley loud-whispered, giving me a look of abhorrence.

“Well, it is, isn’t it?” I asked. Crisis counseling? Not my strong suit.

“It will pass, you know,” said Dooley, addressing Brutus once again.

“It will?” asked Brutus in a strangled voice.

“It will,” Dooley assured him. “I’m over Harriet now. Seeing her with another cat does nothing to me.”

I gave him a critical look.

“Oh, all right. It does something. But I don’t fall to pieces over it anymore.”

“I’m not falling to pieces,” Brutus said, his voice smothered. “I just got something in my eye.”

“Of course you have,” I said. “A big chunk of Diego, right?”

Brutus produced the loudest wail yet, and Dooley was back to rolling his eyes at me. I shrugged and mouthed,‘What?’

‘Shut. Up!’ he mouthed back.

“Did you see her?” Brutus asked now.

“Yeah, we saw her,” Dooley said with his best pastor’s voice.

“Was she still… you know?”

“Yep, she was still giving mouth-to-mouth to that orange menace,” I said.

“Oh, God!” Brutus cried, and buried his head in his paws. “Why?!”

“It’s just a fling,” Dooley said. “She’ll snap out of it. She’s just temporarily blinded by passion. Once the initial zing wears off, she’ll see Diego for what he really is: a cad and a nasty piece of work. Trust me, Brutus, once she sees through him she’ll come crawling back to you.”

Now it was my turn to make eyes at Dooley. I pointed at him.“Come back to you, you mean,” I whispered.

He shook his head.“I’m in the friend zone, Max. I’ve always been in the friend zone, and I’ll always stay there as far as Harriet is concerned. And I’m fine with that. There are more important things in life than being Harriet’s boyfriend.”

“No, there are not!” Brutus wailed.

I went back to patting the big guy on the back.“There, there,” I muttered, for lack of anything better to say.

“I promise you, Brutus,” Dooley said, making a last-ditch attempt to get Brutus to back away from the precipice. “This pain will go away.”

For the first time, he looked up. He looked horrible. His eyes were all red and weepy and his nose was all runny. He wasn’t the Brutus I’d come to know and hate. Not by a long shot. “Promise?”

“Promise,” Dooley said.

He gave us both a watery smile.“You guys are the best friends.”

“That’s what we’re here for,” I said blithely. Even though I’d shaken paws with Brutus and declared ourselves buds, I still had my doubts about his intentions. But now wasn’t the time to get into all of that.

“Us cats have to stick together,” Dooley said. “Hey! I’ve got an idea! Why don’t I wrangle us up some chicken wings?”

“Can you do that?” Brutus asked between two sniffs.

Dooley tapped his brow with a knowing smile.“Power of the mind, Brutus. Power of the mind.” And then he squinched his eyes shut and thought really hard, even placing his paws on his temples to speed up the process.

Chapter 14

That night, the whole family met for dinner. Tex had gotten his famous barbecue skills out and was overseeing the proceedings with his customary flair. Mom had baked a ginormous apple pie that now stood chilling on the kitchen windowsill. Gran had wanted to invite Leo over for dinner but Mom and Dad had put their foot down. No repetition of the beach scene in their house.

Chase had arrived, as Uncle Alec’s guest, and had brought a bottle of the best—Chardonnay from the looks of it—and Odelia was happy to see him, which was a big change from before, when she used to scold her mom for inviting the burly cop. The cats were all there, except for Harriet and Diego, who were conspicuously absent. Brutus, Dooley and Max sat on the porch swing, looking on as dinner progressed, with Brutus looking like a shadow of his former self.

Odelia had no idea what was going on with him until she remembered about Diego making a pass at Harriet. Apparently the Persian’s allegiances had shifted once again, and this time it was Brutus whose heart had been stomped on.

“So what’s all this about a big murder investigation?” Dad asked as he placed a nice, fat kabob on her plate.

She added roasted baby potatoes with rosemary and garlic and dug in.“Famous chef got killed, Dad,” she said. “Niklaus Skad.”

“Oh, theKitchen Disasters guy? I loved that show!”

Tex Poole, a bluff man with a shock of white hair, loved all cooking shows. He considered himself something of acuisinier, though the only thing he did well was barbecue. Still, if it made him happy, that was all that mattered.

“Poor man,” said Mom, a delicate, fair-haired woman. “I thought he was a little too harsh on his candidates from time to time, but I think he meant well.”

“He was brutal,” Uncle Alec said, dumping a glob of mayonnaise on his potatoes. “It was car crash television at its best.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” said Gran, who’d been moping all this time. She was probably missing her Leo. “A lot of these so-called chefs can’t cook for crap, and Niklaus Skad didn’t mince words when he told them so. The fact that they couldn’t cope was their problem, not his.”

“I thought he was overly harsh,” said Chase, munching down on a sausage. “The way he treated restaurateurs was uncalled for and more about boosting his ratings than a genuine desire to see those restaurants he selected do better.”

She smiled at Chase.“That’s exactly what I thought, but you put it so much better.”

“I guess I have a way with words,” said Chase.

“You’ve got a way with your lips,” said Gran. “There’s a difference.”

“Mom,” said Chief Alec warningly. “Let’s keep it civilized.”

“I am keeping it civilized. I’m just like Niklaus Skad: I say it like it is.”

“Well, there’s a difference between saying it like it is and intentionally hurting people, and Skad crossed that line many times on his show,” said Alec.

“Which is probably what got him killed,” Odelia added.

“Amen to that,” her uncle said, clinking his glass of Chardonnay against hers.

“So how was the interview with Hendrik Serarols?” she asked. She’d forgotten to ask her uncle about that.

“He’s a suspect,” said her uncle.

“A very strong suspect,” Chase added.

“Who’s Hendrik Serarols?” asked Tex, flinging more kabobs on the grill.

“The chef atFry Me for an Oyster,” Odelia explained.

“He was the one who suffered the most abuse,” Chase said. “There’s a video online of Niklaus having a go at him.” He shook his head. “Not pretty.”

“I saw that,” said Odelia. “So did he have an alibi for last night?”

“He does, but he doesn’t want to supply it,” said her uncle.

She frowned.“He’s refusing to tell you where he was?”

“Yup. He says he was nowhere near the restaurant, but when I asked him where he was, he refused to tell me.”

“That’s odd,” said Mom.

“That’s suspicious,” Gran said. “If you ask me, he did it.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” said Alec.

Chase dabbed at his lips with his napkin.“He had motive—he had opportunity—and he’s certainly strong enough to have pulled this off. I say we have plenty of grounds for an arrest, Chief.”

“And I say my gut tells me he didn’t do it.” They all looked down at Chief Alec’s sizable gut, and he laughed. “Now don’t start with me, you people.” He patted his round belly. “A good chief needs bulk.”

“A good chief needs muscle,” Chase chided him.

“Fair enough. I have gained a few pounds. And I blame my sister’s cooking.” He glanced at Marge, who smiled indulgently.

“A good chief needs to be fed properly,” she said. “And I know that if I don’t do it, you certainly won’t.”

That was true enough. After his wife had died, Uncle Alec had let himself go for a while, snacking on fast food and anything he could get his hands on. Since then, Mom had taken him under her wing, and now he ate out here most nights.

“Great food as usual, Mrs. Poole,” said Chase appreciatively. “Doc.”

“Thanks, Chase. It’s nice to cook for someone who appreciates it,” said Mom.

“I think you should lock up this chef and force him to supply you with an alibi,” said Gran, who was starting to sound as harsh as Niklaus Skad.

Chief Alec grimaced.“I’m doing no such thing, Mother. And may I remind you that I’m the one in charge of this investigation and not you?”

“You reminding me won’t stop me from giving you my opinion.”

“So what happened to Leo?” Chase asked, giving Odelia a wink.

Gran shrugged.“How should I know? They’ve forbidden him from the house—kicked him out on his ear. The poor man is probably lying in a gutter somewhere, wondering what he did wrong.” She wagged an admonishing finger. “You can’t stop true love. You can beat us—you can arrest us—you can send us to the electric chair for all I care, but nothing will keep Leo and me apart. We’re like Romeo and Juliet. Though Leo told me he’s not going to try and climb to my balcony on account of his arthritis. That and he just had a hip replacement.”

“Leo Wetland is married, Mom,” Chief Alec said with a sigh.

“His wife is in a retirement home so that doesn’t count,” Gran said stubbornly. “She’s no good to him all drugged up and bedridden and all.”

“I just don’t think it’s very nice of him to run around with you while his wife is laid up is all,” said Uncle Alec, throwing down his napkin.

“The man has needs,” Gran insisted. “And so do I.”

“So find yourself a decent man,” Mom insisted. “Not this… weasel.”

Gran narrowed her eyes into slits.“Who are you calling a weasel?”

“Leo! He should be by his wife’s side—her aid and support.”

“You know how hard it is for a girl to find a decent guy at my age?” Gran asked, changing tack. “There’s so few good men out there.”

“So? That doesn’t mean you have to steal other people’s husbands.”

Gran threw up her hands.“If you’re all going to gang up on me I’ve got nothing more to say. I’m out of here.” At this, she got up, her chin in the air. Then she caught sight of Mom’s apple pie and promptly sat down again. “Maybe after dessert.”

“Don’t you have any other suspects apart from this chef?” Dad asked.

The Chief leaned back, his hands on his belly.“Well, there’s Skad’s assistant. Stacie Roebuck. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her yet, but she told one of my officers that she was in her hotel room all night. I don’t think it’ll be hard to verify that she was. Those rooms all have key cards, and the data is accessible to hotel security, complete with date and time stamp, so…”

“I heard she was pretty bullied by Niklaus,” said Chase.

“Yes, she was,” the Chief confirmed. “First line of fire and all that.”

“She could have done it out of revenge,” said Dad.

“Let’s talk to her first thing tomorrow,” said Uncle Alec. “In the meantime…” He eyed that apple pie longingly. “What’s for dessert, Marge?”

Mom smiled.“Maybe you should skip dessert for once?”

There was a howl of protest, and it was obvious Uncle Alec wasn’t about to go on a diet anytime soon.

“Wait,” said Dad, getting up. “Before you bring out the pie, there’s something I wanted to get off my chest.”

They all looked at Dad, who was holding up his glass of wine.“Being here with you all warms my heart. And you know I appreciate you for joining my beautiful wife and me around the dinner table each and every night. But this isn’t like any other night. In fact this is a very special night.”

His eyes flickered with delight as Mom clapped a hand to her mouth.“Oh, Tex. You didn’t…”

“I sure did. Today, thirty years ago, I met the most wonderful woman in the world.”

“Who was she?” Alec quipped.

“She’s sitting right here,” said Tex. “It took me another five years to wear down her resistance and get her to say yes to me.”

“We were too young, Tex,” Mom said.

“You’re still too young,” Gran grumbled.

“And when finally she agreed to be my wife, she made me the happiest man in the world.” He held up his glass in a salute. “Here’s to you, Marge. I love you.”

“I love you, Tex,” Mom said, and then they all raised their glasses, and drank to the couple.

To Odelia’s surprise, Dad got out a bulky package next, and placed it next to Mom’s plate. “Just a small token of my appreciation for all that you do for our family on a daily basis,” he said, taking a seat again.

“Oh, Tex,” she said, a little flustered. “You shouldn’t have.”

Odelia saw that the packaging indicated the store was Ziv Riding’s. So when Mom parted the paper and picked out a blouse, she wasn’t surprised.

“Hey, isn’t that the store where Leo bought me my sweater?” Gran asked.

“It is,” Odelia said, suddenly getting a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. “Can I take a look, Mom?” she asked.

“It’s beautiful, Tex,” Mom gushed. “Thank you so much.”

Odelia took the blouse and checked the wash care label.

“What are you looking for, honey?” Tex asked with a laugh. “It’s the genuine article, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“I know it’s the genuine article, Dad,” she said, her grandmother looking on excitedly. “Just that…” She poked at the label, trying to see if something was hidden inside. And then she saw it. She dug her finger in and removed a small piece of paper, ripping it from the seam that had held it inside the label.

“What’s that?” asked her dad, his smile disappearing.

She placed it on the table, and they all leaned in to see. The label said,‘HELP US! WE PRISONERS HERE!’

Chapter 15

The next morning, Dooley and I decided to go out and do some more sleuthing. We both felt that with all that was going on, we’d neglected our sacred duty to Odelia to do all we could to help her solve this celebrity chef’s murder. The drama with Diego and Brutus had momentarily distracted us, but no more!

Unfortunately the drama hadn’t abated. Harriet and Diego had eloped. They hadn’t been home all night, and Dooley was starting to worry. I didn’t, since I knew that Harriet could take care of herself. Besides, I hadn’t forgotten how she kept hounding me to be BFFs with Brutus, and now suddenly she’d completely lost interest in the cat herself.

Well, two could play that game. I’d lost interest in her. Frankly, I felt betrayed. Harriet knew how we felt about Diego. In the rare moment we’d had her all to ourselves, we’d made it perfectly clear. And still she decided to run with the cat. Well, as far as I was concerned, she was on her own.

“Let’s go, Brutus,” I said, after chomping down a final piece of kibble.

We’d taken the big cat under our wing. After much debate, we figured we couldn’t simply let him hang around the house and be miserable. Better to get him out and about, helping the investigation along. I was sure it would do him a world of good. Besides, I hadn’t lied. There were plenty of other female felines in the world. Maybe one would catch Brutus’s eye and he’d forget all about that treacherous Harriet.

“Do I have to?” Brutus asked morosely.

“Yes, you do,” I said. “No use moping. You need to move past this.”

“But what if Harriet comes home, looking for me? I won’t be here.”

“She won’t come home looking for you,” I said. And when Dooley gave me the angry look again, I added, “Better to get the truth out there, buddy. Harriet won’t be home anytime soon. So you better forget all about her and that Diego.”

At the sound of his rival’s name, a dark look came over Brutus’s face. Yeah, I know it’s hard to see with a black cat like Brutus, but trust me. The dark look came. It was there. “I never want to hear that name again,” he said with a low growl.

“Sure. Let’s just call him… Ivan, shall we?”

“Why Ivan?” asked Dooley, curiously.

“Why not? It’s a name.”

“Let’s call him He Who Cannot Be Named,” Brutus suggested.

“Isn’t that a little dramatic?” I asked. “I mean, really?”

“Isn’t that from a movie?” Dooley asked. “Something with stars. Um,Star Trek? No! Um,Star Wars! Or…Starman?Stardust!”

“Harry Potter, Dooley,” I said curtly. “And no, we’re not naming Diego He Who Cannot Be Named.”

At the sound of the name Diego, Brutus had squeezed his eyes shut and had started singing,“Lalalalalalal!” at the top of his voice. Very mature.

“Let’s just ignore him altogether,” Dooley said, very wisely in my opinion.

“Let’s go, Brutus!” I cried.

He stopped singing Lalala and got up with a weary groan.

We left the house and set paw for the Hampton Springs Hotel. It wasn’t all that far. Hampton Cove is pretty much a one-horse town. Well, actually it’s a no-horse town, though we have many cats, as I’ve amply illustrated.

“So where are we going?” Brutus asked, as despondent as ever. “Not that I care,” he added. “Cause I don’t. I just don’t want to go too far. I’m feeling weak.”

“Hey, I was feeling weak yesterday,” Dooley said. “But that’s because I thought I was dying. But then Odelia told me I was fine, and since she’s a doctor, she can tell if you’re dying, and I’m not, so now I’m fine again, if you see what I mean.”

“What are you talking about?” Brutus grumbled. “Odelia is a reporter, not a doctor.”

Uh-oh. I tried to gesture to the black cat, but he studiously ignored me.

“Odelia’s dad is a doctor, and since that kind of stuff runs in the family, she’s a doctor, too. It’s all genetics, isn’t that right, Max?”

I gave him my best smile and nodded.“Uh-huh.”

“What a load of nonsense,” Brutus said. “Doctors have to go to school for about a hundred years. That stuff’s not genetic. It’s taught! Odelia is as much a doctor as I am a voodoo priest. I’m not a voodoo priest,” he added, to make things perfectly clear.

Dooley got that confused look in his eyes again. He gets that a lot. You might say it’s his standard expression. “Max? What is Brutus saying?”

“Don’t listen to Brutus. He’s still thinking about Diego.”

“Lalalalalala!” Brutus immediately sang.

“See? The guy doesn’t know what he’s saying,” I said. “Trust me, Dooley. Odelia is a doctor and you’re not going to die.”

His face cleared again, and morphed into an expression of childlike glee. It’s his second standard expression. All in all Dooley is pretty limited in his facial expressions.

“So where are we going?” Brutus asked again, once he’d caught on to the fact that I’d stopped using the name Diego.

We were ambling along the sidewalk and had already reached the end of the block. Only a few more blocks and we were at our destination.

“We’re going to the Hampton Springs Hotel,” Dooley informed him, a spring in his step. “We’re going to see a dog about an alibi.”

“Huh?” Brutus asked. “Did you say we’re going to see a dog?”

“Yep. That’s right. We’re going to see Stacie Roebuck’s dog Puck.”

“Who’s Stacie Roebuck and who’s Puck?”

I sighed. That’s what happens when you don’t pay attention. “Stacie Roebuck is—or was—Niklaus Skad’s assistant. It has come to our attention that Niklaus Skad owns—or owned—a Portuguese Water Dog.”

“He’s in all the pictures,” said Dooley. “And was the mascot ofKitchen Disasters. That dog went everywhere with Niklaus.”

“And according to Odelia, Stacie took the dog when Niklaus died.”

“Portuguese Water Dogs are just the coolest, don’t you think?” Dooley asked. “President Obama had a Portuguese Water Dog. He was called Bo. I like the name Bo. It’s a nice name.”

“What is this?Jeopardy? Who cares who had what dog called whatever? They’re dogs—we’re cats. We don’t mingle.”

“That’s a very conservative point of view,” I said. “It is my opinion that dogs can actually be very nice. I mean, dumb, of course—that stands to reason—but they can be very useful witnesses in a murder investigation. Remember that French bulldog we met not so long ago? The one that belonged to the dead reality star?”

“Oh, you mean Kane?” asked Dooley. “Yeah, he was nice, wasn’t he?”

“Just a dumb mutt,” Brutus muttered.

“Well, that dumb mutt provided us with the telling clue, didn’t he?”

“He sure did, Max,” Dooley said happily.

Brutus gave Dooley a dirty look.“Do you have to be so happy?”

“I’m not dying,” Dooley said. “And that makes me happy as a clam!”

“Ugh,” Brutus grunted, and shook his head. “You make me sick.”

We arrived at the hotel and looked up at the third floor, where Odelia had told us Stacie Roebuck’s room was. I hadn’t worked out the logistics of this thing, and now saw the fatal flaw in my plan. How were we ever going to get up there?

“Um, how are we going to get up there, Max?” Dooley asked.

“Maybe we can jump,” Brutus said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

“Why don’t we just, you know, use the stairs?” I asked.

“You mean go inside?” Dooley asked. “What a novel idea! Max, you’re so smart!”

And immediately he skipped away, en route to the hotel entrance.

“I swear, if he keeps this up I’m going to kill him,” Brutus growled.

“Just leave him be,” I said. “Dooley has a bipolar streak. Happy one minute, down the next.”

“Don’t tell me, did Doctor Odelia tell you this, too?” he snarled.

I shrugged.“Anything to keep him happy. I’m sure he’s healthy, and now he believes it, too. So what’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong with that is that you lied to him.”

“Just a little white lie.”

“White lie or not, he’ll find out soon enough, and he’ll never believe you again.”

I grinned.“Then you don’t know Dooley. He has the memory span of a kitten. This time tomorrow he’ll have forgotten all about this episode.”

“Lucky him. I wish I could forget about Harriet and… You Know Who.”

“Diego will not be a part of our lives for very long, Brutus,” I said, and for once he didn’t start singing Lalala but merely gave me a penetrating look.

“You better not be lying to me, Max. Cause I’m not like Dooley. I have a great memory. And if you’re lying to me…” He heaved his paw and extended his claws. I swear they looked like something fromThe Wolverine. Sharp and long!

He didn’t have to say more. I gulped. “I’m not lying,” I promised, and I almost believed it myself.

“Come on, you guys!” Dooley yelled. “Try to keep up!”

We jogged after him, and up the few steps that led to the hotel entrance. It was one of those revolving doors and I didn’t like the look of it. A cat can easily get stuck between those doors and be chopped in half!

“Um, I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” I ventured.

“It’s a great idea!” Dooley said. “Just like a merry-go-round!” And before I could stop him, he’d darted up to the door and was streaking inside.

I shared a weary look with Brutus, and we both shook our heads.“Let’s just do this,” he grunted. Brutus went first, and I followed a close second. There was a momentary confusion when I had no idea if I’d missed my exit, but when I found myself in a plush-looking lobby, my claws digging into a nice high-pile burgundy carpet, I knew I was in the right place.

Dooley was already high-tailing it to the sweeping dual staircase, and lucky for us there weren’t many people in the lobby, so no one stepped on my tail or kicked me in the ribs. Yep, the life of a cat can be brutal.

We hopped up the stairs, making great time, and found ourselves on the third floor without incident. Now to find the right room—and get inside!

“So which room is it?” asked Brutus, seeming to have perked up. A little adventure had done him a world of good. I swear he was already starting to forget all about Harriet and Diego.

“According to Odelia, Stacie is staying in room three-twenty-seven,” I said, checking the numbers on the doors.

The carpeting in this hotel was very nice, and I couldn’t resist digging my claws in for a moment and kneading it, sending clumps of carpet flying all around. Brutus and Dooley did the same. What? You can’t fight instinct.

We arrived at Room 327 and plunked down on our haunches, staring at the closed door.

“Now what?” Brutus asked.

“Maybe we knock?” Dooley suggested.

“Yeah, why don’t we knock? She’ll let us in and maybe even give us a can of chicken liver,” Brutus sneered.

“Do you really think so?” Dooley asked excitedly. He likes chicken liver.

“Of course not, you dumb-ass!”

And just like that, the old Brutus was back.

Suddenly, the door to Room 326 opened and an older man came shuffling out, leaning on a walker. I gave Dooley a glance and he nodded. So we quickly scooted over and slipped inside.

“Hey, wait for me!” Brutus yelled.

I held the door for him and he moved inside cautiously, his ears up and his whiskers trembling, ready for action. Immediately, I moved to the window and walked out onto the balcony. Phew. We were in luck. The balconies connected. So I hopped up onto the balustrade and made the smooth jump to the next balcony, then down to the floor and I was in!

Dooley and Brutus followed my lead, and then the three of us sat staring at the sliding door to Stacie Roebuck’s room. Behind it, a very big, very hairy black dog sat staring at us, looking completely flabbergasted.

We’d found Puck.

Chapter 16

Puck stared at us. We stared at Puck. This was one of thoseThe Good, the Bad and the Ugly type of situations. I had no idea who I was in this constellation. Definitely not the ugly one, and definitely not the bad one either. I think I was Clint. Yeah, definitely Clint.

The dog barked once, and I saw that the window was open a crack. Not a big crack, mind you. Big enough for us cats to slip inside, but not big enough for Puck to join us on the balcony.

“Um… so now what?” Dooley asked.

“Yeah, how do we know this yapper isn’t homicidal?” Brutus asked.

I glanced down, and saw that I had a clear view of the pool down below. People were already prancing around, splashing in the pool. I wondered if Stacie was home. If she was, she might object to three cats entering her room. Then I had the bright idea of asking,“Is. Stacie. Home?”

I enunciated very clearly, cause I know from experience that dogs aren’t the smartest species.

The dog barked again, and I took it as a sign that Stacie was home. Then he became more eloquent.“She’s in bed. She had a rough day yesterday and she’s sleeping in.”

“Thanks for making that clear,” I said, still speaking slowly and clearly.

Puck frowned.“So why are you yelling, buddy?”

“I thought you might have trouble grasping my meaning.”

“I’m grasping your meaning just fine. There’s nothing wrong with my ears. Why don’t you come in?”

I hesitated. This could be a trap. Then again, no dog has ever been able to catch a cat. We’re built for speed, they’re built to lumber along on a leash.

I put one paw forward, and Dooley asked, panicked,“You’re not going in, are you, Max?”

“Why not? He doesn’t look dangerous to me.”

We stared at the dog, who gave us a dumb grin.“I know what this is,” he said. “Candid camera, right? Am I being punked? Huh? Is that what this is?”

“Yeah, he’s not dangerous,” Brutus decided, and beat me inside. I went in second, with Dooley a close third.

The room was nice, in a generic hotel sort of way. These places all look the same to me. It was a small room, nothing fancy. Niklaus definitely hadn’t splurged on his assistant’s travel budget. He probably stayed in the suite, while Stacie had to make do with the crumbs.

“So we’re investigating the murder of your human,” I said. “Niklaus?”

“Yeah, I know who my human is,” said Puck. “I mean, was.”

He didn’t look too broken up about the chef’s death. “So what do you think happened?” I asked.

“Not so fast, Max,” said Dooley. “You can’t just waltz in here and start asking a bunch of questions.” He nodded at Puck. “Hi, my name is Dooley, and these are Max and Brutus. We live with a woman named Odelia Poole. She’s a reporter investigating the murder of your human. And we’rehere to help her.”

“I’ve heard about you,” said Puck. “Your human can communicate with you, right?”

“Where did you hear that?” Brutus immediately asked.

“There was a cat at the restaurant Niklaus was doing, um… what was her name again? Oh, that’s right. Montserrat. She kinda belonged to one of the girls that worked there. She told me about this cat that talks to his human, and helps her solve murders and stuff. Max. That’s you, right?”

“Yeah, that is me,” I admitted, starting to swell a little with pride. So I was famous, huh? Cool.

“Did she also talk about me?” Dooley asked. “Cause we’re buds, Max and I. We solve all these murders together.”

“And don’t forget about me,” Brutus chimed in. “We’re a trio now.”

“Nah. She only mentioned Max. Said you were a big orange cat.”

“Blorange,” I was quick to correct him. “Yes, it’s a color,” I added before he could ask. “So what about Stacie? Do you think she killed Niklaus?”

“Max!” Dooley cried. “You can’t just spring a question like that on him! Can’t you see the dog is grieving?”

“I’m not grieving,” said Puck, his soft brown eyes mellow and bright. He’d plunked his big, hairy body down and was resting his head on his front paws. He had a funny-looking white fringe that hung over his eyes. The guy clearly needed a trim.

“You’re not?” Dooley asked. “But your human died.”

“Yeah, and I’m happy he did. He was a pretty lousy human. Stacie is a great person, and so much nicer to me than Niklaus ever was. Did you know he used to beat me? Yeah, that’s right. He was one of those humans. A nasty one.”

“That’s just terrible!” Dooley cried. “He beat you? How awful!”

“He treated Stacie pretty badly, too. Used to yell at her all the time. She used to cry a lot, but only when no one was watching. Except me. So I guess you could say we went through the same ordeal and came out the other end.”

“You have a shoulder to cry on and so does she,” Dooley said. “How moving.”

“Are you crying, little buddy?” asked Puck.

“No,” said Dooley in a strangled voice. “Just a speck of dust.”

“Don’t cry for us,” said Puck. “We’re great now. Stacie has already told me she plans to keep me, so I’m in dog heaven right now. Stacie is the best.”

“So…” I glanced at Dooley, wondering if now was the time to ask the question. But he was so busy wiping his eyes that he didn’t notice. I shrugged. “So did Stacie kill Niklaus?”

“Max!” Dooley cried.

“Yeah, Max,” Brutus growled. “Where are your manners?”

“Hey, how else am I going to get an answer?”

“It’s all right,” said Puck. “The short answer is that I have no idea. I wasn’t there when Niklaus was killed. He’d locked me up in his suite as usual. The long answer is that I’m pretty sure Stacie would never do such a thing. She’s far too sweet. Besides, have you seen Stacie?”

“Um, no, we haven’t,” I said.

“She’s small, buddy. And from what I hear the killer hoisted Niklaus all the way up into the restaurant oven.” He shook his head, his fringe swishing. “Nah. No way that girl has the body strength to perform such a feat.”

Well, I had my answer, and I was glad. Another suspect scratched from the list. Odelia would be happy.

“So do you have any idea who did kill Niklaus?” Brutus asked.

Great question. Why didn’t I think of that?

His big, mellow dog eyes grew moist.“No idea. But whoever did it deserves a medal. Without him—or her—I would still be locked up in that suite, and Stacie would still be the least-appreciated assistant in the world.”

It was pretty clear to me that Niklaus Skad’s killer had done the world a favor, or at least Puck and Stacie. It was a touching story, and one I just knew would one day make a great Lifetime movie featuring Danica McKellar in the role of Stacie and Rob Lowe as Niklaus Skad. I wondered who’d play the dog. Or me!

Puck was recalling some more moving moments from his life as a dog, while Dooley listened with bated breath, Brutus checked out Puck’s bowl for scraps, and I checked out the room for clues to Stacie’s personality.

Suddenly the doorbell rang, and a tired voice sounded in the bedroom.“Who is it?!”

Then the voice of Odelia came through the door, loud and clear.“Odelia Poole, Miss Roebuck. Could I please have a moment of your time?”

Chapter 17

Odelia knocked on the door again. Maybe Stacie wasn’t going to let her in? That was the disadvantage of being a reporter. Oftentimes people simply didn’t allow you in. And she couldn’t force them. It wasn’t as if she was the police or something. No one was under any obligation to talk to her.

“Coming!” the same voice sounded from inside.

The door was opened and a tired-looking young woman looked out at her.“Yes?”

“Hi. Miss Roebuck? Miss Stacie Roebuck? My name is Odelia Poole? I’m a reporter with the Hampton Cove Gazette. I also work as a consultant with the Hampton Cove Police Department. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about your boss.”

Stacie nodded and opened the door wider. As Odelia stepped in, she saw three cats and a dog sitting on the carpet staring up at her. She did a double take, and when she looked again, she saw that Max, Dooley and Brutus had vanished, and that only the dog was left. He was a big, black, hairy dog with soulful eyes.

“Lemme just close the window,” said Stacie, and padded over barefoot, snapping it shut. Just before she did, Odelia saw how her three cats had been inching toward the window, which was probably how they’d gotten in in the first place. So now they were trapped. Great. Just great.

“I’m sorry to bother you at such an early hour,” she said.

“No, that’s all right. I must have overslept. Usually I get up at the crack of dawn, but now, with all that’s happened, I guess I was just bone-tired last night.”

Stacie Roebuck was a slight woman of around Odelia’s age. She had half-long auburn hair and was wearing green-framed glasses, accentuating the jade in her eyes. There were also dark rims under those same eyes, adding substance to her words that she was indeed bone-tired. Which didn’t surprise Odelia.

“Don’t mind the mess,” Stacie said apologetically. “It’s been a hectic couple of days, as you can imagine.”

Odelia looked around the room but saw no mess to speak of. Through the open door of the bedroom she could see some clothes strewn around in there, but the living room was perfectly spotless, which told her Stacie hadn’t been in much. A laptop was open on the desk, and a neat pile of cookbooks—all authored by Niklaus Skad—were stacked next to the laptop, but otherwise there was absolutely no clutter.

The dog came over to her and pressed his nose into her hand.“He’s sweet,” she said with a smile. “Is he yours?”

“He is now,” said Stacie with a tired smile. “His name is Puck, and he belonged to Niklaus. I’ve decided to adopt him.”

“I’m sorry to have to ask you this,” she said, “but do you have any idea what happened?”

Stacie shook her head. She was dressed in a purple sweater and sweatpants and sat at the edge of the sofa, Odelia right across from her.“I hadn’t seen Niklaus since that morning. He’d done a taping at the restaurant and then decided he needed the day off. He said he’d spend it at the pool, or maybe at the beach, so I knew not to bother him.”

“Did you also take the day off?”

“Oh, no,” said Stacie with a laugh. “Niklaus hardly ever let me take the day off. There was always something that needed to be done.”

“So what did you do?” asked Odelia, hoping her line of questioning wasn’t too abrupt. She sometimes wished she had her uncle’s flair for asking the right questions. He had a knack for putting people at ease.

“I stayed at the restaurant, setting up the next taping.” She gestured with her hand. “There were some fires to put out—the chef…” Her voice trailed off, as she was aware there were certain things better left unsaid in front of a reporter.

“I’m not going to print any of this,” Odelia said, “if you don’t want to. What I want most of all is to find out what happened—who did this to Niklaus.”

The assistant nodded.“Niklaus Skad wasn’t the easiest man to work for. He had a habit of rubbing people the wrong way. It was his style—the thing he was known for—and the main reason people watched the show. They liked the abrasiveness. And the drama. The conflict and the outbursts. The way he humiliated people.” She paused, bringing a trembling hand to her face, ineffectually pushing at her hair and then dropping it in her lap.

“I know this is hard for you,” Odelia said, scooting forward.

“It’s fine. It’s just… There was a huge row during the taping, so I spent a big chunk of the day trying to put out the fire. The chef was so undone he told everyone he’d quit, and the owners were threatening to pull out of the show. It didn’t help matters that I had to point out to themthey’d signed a contract and that they couldn’t cancel even if they wanted to.”

“Looks like Niklaus liked to stir the pot and left you to pick up the pieces.”

“That’s exactly what he did.”

“That can’t have been much fun.”

“No, it wasn’t.” She glanced at Puck, who’d put his head in her lap and was gazing up at her with his sad dog eyes. She placed a hand on the dog’s head and smiled. “I think it’s safe to say that neither me or Puck are very sorry that Niklaus is gone.” She looked up in alarm. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That was massively unprofessional of me.”

“No, it’s fine,” said Odelia. “I’ve heard the stories. I’ve seen the shows. It must have been tough on you.”

“Yes, it was. Probably the hardest job I’ve ever had. And the longest three years of my life.”

“You worked for him for three years?”

Stacie nodded.“Everybody said I was crazy to stay. All his other assistants had walked out after only a couple of months—or weeks. But there was something special about Niklaus Skad. He might have been a demanding boss—and not a very nice one—but I admired him for what he’d achieved. He built an entireempire—a complete brand—all by himself and in record time. I couldn’t help but have a lot of respect for him as a businessman. As a person? Not so much.” She tickled Puck behind the ears. “For one thing, he wasn’t very nice to Puck. And I resented that. Humans can defend themselves, butdogs can’t.”

“I agree,” she said. “I hate people who are mean to animals.”

“Me, too,” said Stacie with a sad smile. “I just can’t tolerate them.”

“So… where were you when Mr. Skad died, Stacie? I’m sorry—I have to ask.”

“Of course. I was right here, preparing for the next day’s shoot. That’s what I usually did at night. Making sure that everything was ready for the next day. So that Niklaus just had to walk on set and do his thing.”

“Can anyone confirm that you were here?”

“Nope. Not even Puck. He was still locked up in Mr. Skad’s suite.” She gave Odelia a hesitant look. “Do you think the police will suspect me?”

“I think you’ll be one of the suspects, yes.”

She nodded.“Of course. I had the motive to kill him. And I certainly had opportunity. Though I had no idea he returned to the restaurant. Usually when we were out on location he liked to stay in his room and…” She grimaced. “… invite company.”

“Female company?”

“Yes. He liked to go out and, well, sample the local offerings.”

“Why do you think he went back to the restaurant? Maybe he wanted to prepare for the next day?”

She shook her head adamantly.“No way. Niklaus never bothered with that. He even told me once he stayed far away from the restaurants he was doing. He wanted to arrive on the scene with fresh eyes and go with his gut. He didn’t want to overthink things. Visiting a restaurant the night before a shoot was something he’d never do.”

“So you have no idea why he returned?”

“None.”

She eyed the woman curiously. She was slight. Too slight to be able to lift the body of her boss up and into the oven. If she were the murderer she would have needed help. No way she could have done this alone.“Thank you, Stacie.”

“You’re welcome. I suppose the police will want a word with me?”

“Yes, I’m afraid they will. But don’t worry. My uncle is a kind and fair man.”

“Your uncle is a policeman?”

“Yes. He’s Chief of Police.”

They both rose, and Stacie stood hugging herself for a moment.“I hope he catches whoever did this. I would like to go home and put this whole thing behind me as soon as possible.”

“I’m sure we’ll catch the culprit soon,” she said, projecting a confidence she wasn’t exactly feeling. So far they had nothing. Unless this Chef Serarols proved to be a viable suspect. Her uncle certainly seemed to think so. “What was your impression of Hendrik Serarols?”

“He seemed nice enough. I think he’s a great chef, and he only made those mistakes because Niklaus was giving him such a hard time. It’s not easy to perform under such great pressure.” She gave a weak smile. “I speak from experience.” Her smile vanished. “Why? Do you think he did it?”

“He doesn’t have an alibi for the night of the murder, so…”

“I can’t believe he would do such a thing. But then again, I guess everybody is capable of murder, even the ones you least suspect.”

“That is certainly true,” she agreed.

From the corner of her eye, she saw that Max was frantically trying to get her attention. So she walked to the door and opened it, then blocked Stacie’s view of it by pointing at the window. “Is it true that Niklaus Skad’s wife gave such a performance the night her husband was killed?”

Stacie grinned.“Oh, yes, she did. I honestly couldn’t watch. It was so embarrassing. A woman like her pouncing on a man half her age? There was something really tragic about it.”

She watched as Max, Dooley and Brutus snuck out through the door.“You knew her well? Cybil Truscott?”

“I did. And I’d say Niklaus and Cybil deserved each other. They were both people who only cared about themselves.” Puck gave a bark of agreement at this, and Stacie bent down and gave him a hug. “This guy here is just about the only good thing I’m taking away from this experience.”

“He’s lucky to have you,” Odelia said.

“No, I’m lucky to have him,” Stacie said.

And as she stepped out and closed the door behind her, she was convinced that Stacie was innocent. No way anyone could fake that performance.

She looked around, and saw that Max and the others were waiting for her at the top of the stairs.“What were you guys doing in there?” she asked, crouching down.

“You told us to have a talk with Puck, so we did,” Max said simply.

“And? What’s the verdict?”

“Puck doesn’t think Stacie could have done it. She’s way too sweet.”

“And too weak,” Brutus added.

“Too slight,” Max corrected him.

“I agree,” Odelia said. “I don’t think she did it.”

“So who did?” Dooley asked.

“If you can answer that, I’ll give you all the chicken wings you could ever dream of,” she said, giving Dooley a pat on the head.

The cat grinned.“See, Brutus? That power of the mind thing is working already!”

Chapter 18

We plodded down the stairs in Odelia’s wake. I was feeling pretty exhilarated. This mission had been a success. I actually felt like James Bond or something: sneaking into hotel rooms to spy secrets and stuff. The only difference between James and me was that there hadn’t been a pretty girl waiting in that hotel room but a big, hairy dog. Story of my life, I guess.

“So what’s next?” Brutus asked. The mission had cheered him up.

“Next is that we need to get rid of this Diego character,” I said.

Brutus shook his head.“It can’t be done, Max. Didn’t you hear Odelia? He’s here to stay.”

“Not if you make him go away,” I said.

“Me? How can I make him go away?”

“You just have to put your paw down, Brutus. You have to lay it all out for him. You have to show him who’s the boss.”

He paused halfway down the stairs.“And how am I supposed to do that?”

“The same way you showed us who’s boss,” I said. “Remember when you first arrived in town? How you told us you were the cat of a cop and you were laying down the law from now on and a bunch of little sissy cats weren’t going to stand in the way of you achieving world domination?”

“Um, I don’t think that’s what happened,” Dooley said.

“It’s how I remember it,” I said. “And that’s what counts. What it all comes down to is that you have to cat up, Brutus. Girls like a strong cat. A cat who tells it like it is. Who takes no crap from no one, and definitely not from some nasty skinny-ass cat like Diego.”

Throughout my little pep talk, Brutus was perking up. He was almost looking like his old self again. Whether this was a good thing or not remained to be seen. I was pumping him up. Boosting his ego. He might just as easily turn against us. Side with Diego and make our lives a living hell. But I didn’t think so. We had an actual opportunity here to make Brutus our ally and not our enemy and we had to take it. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or something along those lines. And since Diego was clearly the bigger of two evils here, Brutus needed to become our friend.

“For once I think you’re right, Max,” Brutus said, his eyes displaying a malevolent gleam. “For once I think you might be right on the money.”

I didn’t like this ‘for once’ nonsense. In my humble opinion I was always right. But I wasn’t going to let a little thing like that ruin the moment. “You have to waltz in there and take back your sweetheart,” I said.

“Wait, what?” asked Dooley.

“You have to simply grab her and plant a big, wet one on her lips and tell her that daddy’s home and no one is going to take her away from you.”

“Um, Max?” Dooley asked. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to squash that little pipsqueak like a bug!” Brutus growled. “I’m going to storm in there and take my girl back from that… that… nincompoop!”

“Well said,” I said, putting my paws together for an impromptu applause.

“And I’m going to do it right now!” Brutus said.

“No time like the present,” I agreed.

“I’m going to bulldoze that crappy cat into the ground!”

“I love the sentiment,” I said with genuine admiration.

And Brutus stalked off.“Watch me going!” he shouted.

“I’m watching you going and I’m inspired!” I shouted back.

Both Dooley and I watched Brutus storm down the hotel steps, into the lobby and out that treacherous revolving door.

“Max!” cried Dooley the moment the big brute was out of earshot. “What have you done?!”

I smiled.“I’ve handled two problems in one stroke of genius, Dooley. I’ve turned an enemy into an ally, and I’ve rid ourselves of this annoying Diego. Don’t congratulate me now. You can do that when all this is over.”

“I’m not going to congratulate you! Brutus was down, and now you’ve gone and boosted him all up again!”

“I know, right. Isn’t it great?”

“No, it’s not! He’s going to kick Diego out of the house.”

“Which is what we want, remember?”

“And then he’s going to turn on us!”

I gave this some thought.“No, he’s not. He’s our friend now.”

“Brutus is nobody’s friend! A cat like that can’t be friends with anybody. He’s like Niklaus Skad. Stepping on people and putting them down makes him feel good. Once he’s done stepping on Diego who do you think he’s going to step on next?”

“Um, nobody? Because he’ll be happy that Diego’s gone and he’s got Harriet back and he’s going to be grateful to his new best friends. Us!”

“No, he’s not! He’s going to keep putting cats down. He’s going to kick us out next!”

“No way. We’re his friends. We stood by his side when he was down and out.”

“It doesn’t work like that, Max. He’s going to feel embarrassed because we saw him when he was down. He’s going to want to take revenge. He’s going to come down harder on us than on anyone else.” He closed his eyes. “This is the end. You just created a monster and set him loose on us.”

“I don’t think you’re right, Dooley,” I said, though I had to admit he made a very convincing argument. It was true that bullies like Brutus hate to look weak. And we’d seen him at his weakest. At his lowest. We’d even seen him—gasp!—cry. Now that he was strong again—and boosted by the victory over Diego—he just might become fully insufferable. And vindictive.

“We watched him weep, Max. He’s never going to forgive us.”

“Let’s just wait and see,” I said. “I’m sure he’ll be just fine. Tonight we’ll all be sitting on the couch. Odelia, you, me, Brutus and Harriet, watching a great movie, and having a laugh about all of this. All friends together, right?”

He merely shook his head.

“Right? Dooley?”

He stared at me with accusing eyes.“What have you done, Max?”

Chapter 19

Odelia crossed the lobby to the door, lost in thought. That’s why she didn’t notice Chase until she bumped into him and almost went down. He placed two steadying hands on her shoulders. “Hold your horses, honey. Are you all right?”

The impact had done much to make her aware of the hardness of his chest and the power of his hands. The man was made of solid rock!“Um, yes, I’m fine,” she said, a little flustered. She made an effort to control her beating heart as she stepped away from him. “I wasn’t looking.”

“That’s what I figured,” he said with a hint of a smile. “I’m here to interview another suspect. You?”

“Same thing,” she said. “I just had a chat with Stacie Roebuck.”

“The assistant? What did she have to say?”

“She was alone the night her boss died. Holed up in her room.”

“No alibi, huh?”

“Nope. None, whatsoever. Though I don’t think she did it. You should see her, Chase. She’s this sweet, slim woman.”

He cocked an eyebrow.“Incapable of shoving a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound male into an oven?”

“I don’t think she could have done it. And not just physically. She might have disliked her boss—”

“He seemed to have had that effect on a lot of people.”

“—but she respected him for what he’d achieved.”

“All right,” he said. “And I respect your judgment.” He hesitated. “Why don’t you join me?”

“Interviewing a suspect? But I’m not a cop.”

“You’re practically deputized,” he said. “And it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

That was true enough. They’d interviewed other suspects before. She hadn’t lied to Stacie. Uncle Alec had given her a consultant status some time back, when he realized she could be a boon to his investigations. That still didn’t mean she could sit in on interrogations at the precinct. She could, however, tag along when a detective like Chase talked to witnesses and interviewed suspects. Like Rick Castle shadowing Kate Beckett.

“So who are you interviewing?” she asked as she fell into step beside him.

“There’s this guy who was one of Niklaus Skad’s main competitors. He’s a former chef who now has a cooking show on NBC. It was scheduled to go head to head withKitchen Disasters and to everyone’s surprise managed to get more viewers than anyone thought.”

Chapter 20

“Ooh! I think I know him. Konrad Daines, right?Chopped Liver?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. You know your cooking shows, Odelia.”

“I always hope to pick something up.”

“I have to confess I’d never heard of the guy. Or Niklaus Skad, for that matter. But then I’m not much of a cook.”

“Me neither,” she confessed. “I just figure that maybe by watching a lot of cooking shows I’ll become a master chef.”

“You mean by osmosis?”

“Yep. That’s exactly what I mean. Silly, huh?”

“Nah. It’s like guys watching football. They just sit there with their beer bellies, totally out of shape, and somehow figure that if they watch enough games some of that athleticism just might rub off on them. Human nature, I guess.”

“Or laziness.”

He grinned.“Or that.”

They walked back to the main staircase, and she noticed Max, Dooley and Brutus had vanished. Probably on the case, just like she and Chase were.“You watch a lot of football?”

He laughed.“What are you saying? That I’m a couch potato?”

She glanced him up and down.“No, you’re definitely not a couch potato.”

“Thanks. I try to stay in shape. Not football, mind you, but I do hit the gym on a semi-regular basis.”

“I wish I could say the same.”

“Why don’t you join me? I could use a spotter.”

Her eyebrows shot up.“Me? And you? Gym buddies?”

“Why not? It’s a lot more fun when it’s not just you and the treadmill.”

“I don’t know…” She pictured Chase hanging over her while she desperately tried to push up a huge barbell, veins standing out on her neck, breaking into a sweat. Not exactly the way she wanted to look in front of him. It was true that she needed to get in shape, though. Desperately so, in fact. And he definitely looked like a guy who knew his way around a gym.

“They’ve got separate dressing rooms if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, I know they do. It’s just…”

“You don’t want me to see you in your gym clothes, huh? Is that it?”

“No! Of course not.” Well, yes. She didn’t want him to see her flabby midsection. Or her flabby tush. Or her flabby anything.

As if he could read her mind, he gave her a once-over.“I think you’re in pretty great shape, actually. You probably don’t even need to go to the gym.”

“Oh, trust me, I do,” she said. Then, before she could change her mind, added, “Fine. I’ll be your gym buddy. But if you make one comment about my butt…”

“I might make a compliment about your butt,” he said with a smirk.

“Yeah, right. Once you see my butt squeezed into spandex you’ll wipe that smirk straight off your face.”

“I think your butt looks great, with or without spandex.”

“Are we really talking about my butt now?”

“You started it.”

“You started it. I think.”

They’d arrived on the second floor, and he checked his notebook. “Konrad Daines. Room twenty-four. Let’s see if Mr. Daines is home, shall we?”

They traversed the hallway, passing a woman vacuuming the red carpeted floor and another dumping a bunch of linen into a trolley. They stopped in front of Room 24 and Chase knocked on the door.

“Did you ever get that chef to give up his alibi?” she asked.

“As a matter of fact I did. Turns out he was over at another restaurant in the next town for an interview. Was so sick and tired of Niklaus Skad that he was going to quitFry Me for an Oyster and start work for the competition.”

“And he didn’t want to jeopardize his chances by blabbing about the interview.”

“Exactly. So that’s another suspect we can scratch from our list.”

Just then, the door swung open, and an irate-looking man stood in the doorway.“Yes? What do you want?”

Chase held up his badge.“Hampton Cove Police Department, Mr. Daines. Detective Kingsley and this is Odelia Poole, civilian consultant. May we come in?”

The man’s scowl instantly morphed into a look of concern. “Sure, sure. Is this about what happened the other night? My lawyer promised me he’d taken care of everything. That I was off the hook.”

They stepped into the room, and Odelia noticed how it was a lot nicer than Stacie Roebuck’s cramped quarters. There was a small foyer which opened up into a living room with an ocean view, a dining room and a kitchen. Two bedrooms led off the living room, one of which sported a four-poster bed.

The man led them into a salon and bade them take a seat. Odelia and Chase picked out a couple of chairs while Konrad settled himself on a settee.

“Actually we’re here to talk about the murder of Niklaus Skad,” Odelia said.

“Oh!” said the man. He was exactly as she remembered him fromChopped Liver. Barrel-chested with a tan even-featured face, bristly short hair, and keen eyes.

The show featured ten couples that were given the opportunity to open a pop-up restaurant. Undercover judges visited each restaurant and recorded their assessments, in no-holds-barred confession-cam style. Hidden cameras filmed the contestants as they responded to customer criticism and other crises. Tempers ran high, and when the teams reviewed their assessments at the end of each episode, typically lots of tears were shed and Kleenex doled out. The big prize was to open an actual restaurant.

“I take it you’re aware that Niklaus Skad was killed?” Chase asked.

“Of course. Yes, I heard about that,” said Konrad.

“You and Mr. Skad were competitors?” Odelia asked.

“Yes. Yes, we were. HisKitchen Disasters and myChopped Liver were scheduled in the same time slot. His on Fox and mine on NBC.”

“Is it true that your show was being axed at the end of its current season?” Odelia asked.

The man’s face darkened. “So you read about that, huh? Yeah, it’s true. It’s also the reason for my little… incident the other night.”

“Yes, let’s talk about that,” said Chase. “You said something about your lawyer promising you something? What’s that all about?”

“Oh, um…” He looked sheepish now. “I thought that’s why you guys were here. I had too much to drink and, well, I kinda passed out on the beach.”

“You passed out on the beach?” Chase asked, jotting down a note.

“Yes, that’s right. Right after I crashed Bill and Hillary’s party.”

“Bill and Hillary… as in Clinton?” asked Odelia, surprised.

Konrad heaved a deep sigh and settled back on the settee.“Not my finest hour, I must confess. You see, I’d just gotten the news about my show being canceled, and I wasn’t in the best of moods. But instead of staying in my room, like I probably should have, I decided to go out and party. A buddy of mine has a yacht in one of the marinas in East Hampton, so I dropped by for a drink. Our company moved to the beach and we polished off a few bottles of bubbly.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck.

“And then?” Chase prompted.

“And then things got kinda vague. I remember sitting by a campfire listening to some dude playing the guitar. Then some of the girls wanted to go skinny-dipping and asked me if I was game. And I guess I was, cause next thing I remember I woke up in a prison cell and some cop accused me of crashing Bill’s birthday party and making a nuisance of myself.” He shrugged. “What happened between the skinny-dipping and the Clintons I don’t know.”

“And this all happened the night Niklaus Skad was killed?” Odelia asked.

“Yeah, you can check with East Hampton police. I was in jail when Niklaus was killed. First thing I heard about it was when my lawyer came to bail me out in the morning.”

“I take it you and Mr. Skad didn’t get along?” Chase asked.

“No, we most definitely didn’t. That guy stole my idea. I was going to do a show calledKitchen Calamities. This was months before he pitchedKitchen Disasters to the networks. When I heard about it, I confronted him. He just laughed in my face. Said I shouldn’t have blabbed about the concept to everyone I knew.” He frowned. “Bastard didn’t even deny stealing my idea. And then of course it made him a fortune and a household name.”

It was obvious there was no love lost between the two celebrity chefs, but if his story about crashing the Clinton party was true, it would be easy to check. Which let him off the hook.“Do you have any idea who might have wanted to hurt Mr. Skad?” Odelia asked.

The man uttered a curt laugh.“Um, just about everybody? Niklaus wasn’t a well-liked man, Miss Poole. He made a lot of enemies over the years, and worst of all, he was proud of the fact. Always said that the number of enemies a man had showed how successful he was. He even bragged about how hated he was.”

Yep. That sounded about right.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Daines,” Chase finally said, after checking a few more things. “You’ve been most helpful.”

The chef stood and shook Chase’s hand. “No, I’m afraid I haven’t. Look, I know you have to find the killer—it’s your duty, after all—but let me tell you that most people you will talk to will tell you the same thing: they’re all happy Niklaus was killed. That man was evil, Detective. Pure evil.”

When they stepped from the room, Chase heaved a deep sigh.“So I guess that’s it then. Another suspect down. We don’t have any left.”

“Poor man. First Skad stole his million-dollar idea for a show, and then he went and got his own show canceled. He must have hated him so much.”

“Yeah, he’s the best suspect I’ve talked to so far. Physically he’s also perfect. He could easily have shoved Skad into that oven. And he was in town the night of the murder.”

“Pity he’s got an ironclad alibi.”

“Rock solid,” Chase agreed.

“So where does that leave us?”

“We’re still waiting on the final report from the coroner, but barring any surprises we’re pretty much out of moves here. I honestly don’t know who else could have done it.”

“You talked to the rest of the staff?”

“All of them. They all alibied out.”

“And no witnesses have come forward?”

“None. Which is weird, as someone must have seen something.”

They descended the stairs, and Odelia gave the interview some more thought. Chase was right. Konrad was the perfect suspect. And he was innocent.

“Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you, Detective Kingsley.”

He gave her a grimace.“So now suddenly it’s my investigation again, huh?”

“You are the detective. I’m just a consultant.”

He shook his head.“Round about now we could use some of those magic sleuthing powers your uncle claims you possess. Cause from where I’m standing things are starting to look pretty hopeless.”

She thought of Max and Dooley. If they didn’t come up with something soon, Chase was absolutely right. Things did look hopeless.

Chapter 21

All the way back from the hotel to the house, I thought about what Dooley had said about Brutus. How I’d stirred the beast and he would return to haunt us. And when we were about to turn the corner and enter the street where we lived, I saw Brutus coming toward us, and he looked completely deflated again.

I nudged Dooley.“Look who’s coming.”

“He doesn’t look like he’s going to bully us,” Dooley said.

“Very observant of you, Dooley. So maybe you were wrong, huh?”

“Let’s wait and see.”

“Hey, that’s my line!”

“And now it’s mine.”

We sat down on our haunches, and I started casually licking my tail. I didn’t want to give Brutus the impression we were waiting for him. Dooley, catching on, started licking his private parts.

“Dooley!” I hissed. “Do you have to do that now?”

“Huh? What?” he asked, looking up from his business.

“Just lick your paw or something. This is a public place.”

“I don’t have to lick my paw. I just licked my paw before. Now I want to lick my—”

“It’s not proper!”

He stared at me.“What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? We’re cats, Max. Not humans. We lick whatever we want to lick at any given time.”

“Still.”

“Still nothing. Living with Odelia has turned you into a human. Time to remember that you’re a cat.”

I guess he was right. It’s just that every time in the past I started licking my privates, Odelia started giggling. It’s made me self-conscious.

“I honestly think that if people would walk around in the nude more and lick their private parts in public, the world would be a much better place,” Dooley said.

I watched as Gran and Leo came walking down the street, kissing and hugging and generally all over each other’s business, and I said, “I disagree. There are certain human private parts I really don’t care seeing.”

Brutus had reached us and also plunked down on his haunches.“Hi,” he said in a tired voice. He sounded like the voice from the tomb on a bad day.

“So?” I asked. “How did it go?”

“It didn’t. I waltzed in there, just like you told me to, and told Diego what was what. I said Harriet was my girlfriend and he had no right to come barging into our lives and stealing her away from me.” He paused, and clamped his mouth shut, giving me a haunted look. Then he shivered visibly. “Brrrr.”

“And?” I asked. “Don’t keep us in suspense. What happened?”

“Harriet happened. She told me in no uncertain terms that she was no plaything, to be handed over from cat to cat and to be decided over by anyone but herself. She said she was her own cat and she was perfectly capable of deciding who she was going to date and I was an idiot for trying to controlher.” He shivered, and it was obvious the episode had rankled him.

“She said that, huh?”

“All that and a lot more,” he admitted. “She also said that if she wanted to give her heart to Diego then that was nobody’s business but her own. And if I thought I was going to change her mind by acting like a jealous boyfriend I had another thing coming. And then she kissed Diego. For about a minute or so. It could have been longer. I decided not to stick around.”

I shared a look of commiseration with Dooley. The latter shrugged. He obviously figured that at least Brutus hadn’t turned into the bullying monster we’d all come to know and despise. He was just his old, miserable self again.

I patted the big cat on the shoulder.“Why don’t you join us, Brutus?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m licking my tail and Dooley is licking his privates.”

“Why not?” he asked, heaving another deep sigh. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

So we spent the next ten minutes grooming ourselves. It’s an important part of being a cat, and it helps to take your mind off things.

“So what’s new?” Brutus asked after a while.

“Nothing,” I said.

“You think Odelia cracked the case yet?”

“Nope,” I said.

“So what’s our next move?”

I gave this some thought. What was our next move? The only thing I could come up with was to spend some time at our usual haunts. The barber shop. The police station. The General Store. Maybe someone somewhere had seen something and could get this investigation moving in the right direction again.

So once we were satisfied that our fur was all nice and shiny again and generally flea-free, we ambled off in the direction of Main Street. The police station was a bust. No cats around, and Uncle Alec was holed up in his office playing Solitaire on his computer. The barber shop was a bust, too. None of the cats hanging around there had seen anything.

Our final destination was the General Store, where our buddy Kingman reigns supreme. He’s a large piebald that likes to gossip. And since just about every cat in town passes by the store eventually, he’s usually the best choice to pick up some juicy fresh gossip.

“Max! Dooley! Brutus!” Kingman said from his perch on the counter. He likes to keep his human Wilbur company while the latter rings up the purchases. He gracefully hopped down and trod over to where we were sitting, right next to the discount DVD bin. “So what’s happening, dudes?”

“We were just about to ask you,” I said.

“Quid pro quo, Max,” Kingman said with a sly grin. “Quid pro quo.”

“Grandma Poole is dating a guy called Leo Wetland,” I said.

He made a throwaway gesture with his paw.“That’s old news. You’ll have to do a lot better than that.”

“Niklaus Skad was killed?” Dooley tried.

“Old news!”

I glanced at Brutus. He was sitting on the biggest piece of news. He shook his head. I gave him a penetrating look. He shook his head again. So I decided to blurt it out myself.“Harriet is dating a cat called Diego.”

This time an eager look came into Kingman’s eyes. “Tell me more.”

So we told him more, Brutus meanwhile suffering the death of a thousand cuts. I told myself it was for a good cause. If Kingman wanted juicy gossip, it meant he had a big story to share, or else he wouldn’t bother.

“Diego, huh? I’ve seen that cat around. Strutting his stuff. Bad news, Max. Bad news.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

His eyes flashed.“Did you know that there’s a sweatshop in town?”

“No way!”

“Yes, way. Right here in Hampton Cove. An actual sweatshop!”

“What’s a sweatshop?” Dooley asked.

“It’s a shop where people go to sweat,” Brutus said.

“Like a fitness club?”

“Yeah, exactly like a fitness club,” said Brutus. “Right, Max?”

“No, not like a fitness club,” I said.

“So what is it?” asked Dooley, confused.

I gestured at Kingman.“You tell ‘em.”

“A sweatshop is a place where unscrupulous businessmen keep a bunch of workers—often even kids—and make them work really, really hard for pretty much no pay, for long hours and in horrible conditions.”

“I knew that,” I murmured, even though I didn’t.

“I get it,” Dooley said. “They make them sweat a lot and don’t pay them anything.”

“But isn’t that, like, illegal?” Brutus asked.

“Good point, buddy!” said Kingman. “Of course it’s illegal!”

“Yeah, they probably don’t pay any taxes,” I said.

“And they’re breaking pretty much every labor law,” Kingman added.

“So where is this sweatshop? And how do you even know this?”

“A cat that hangs out there told me. Said they’ve got a bunch of illegal aliens locked up in there.”

“Aren’t all aliens illegal?” asked Dooley. “I mean, I’ve seenIndependence Day. Those horrible creatures definitely weren’t invited.”

“Not aliens from outer space,” I said. “Aliens as in immigrants.”

“Oh. Right,” he said, understanding dawning.

“Norma said they look Chinese,” said Kingman. “One of the workers actually feeds her milk from time to time. Through a crack in the window. She said there are bars on all the windows and they’re not allowed outside.”

“Terrible,” Brutus said, and I could tell he was moved by the story. So was I. In this day and age, in this country, this was a real outrage.

“So where is this sweatshop?” I asked.

Chapter 22

Odelia was hitching a ride in Chase’s car when suddenly she saw three cats tripping along the sidewalk. They were Max, Dooley and Brutus. When Max spotted the car, he motioned for her to pull over.

“Pull over, Chase,” she said. “Pull over right here.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, doing as she asked.

Without responding, she opened the door and allowed the three cats to hop in.

“Oh, God. Not your cats again,” Chase said.

She ignored him. If Max signaled her to stop, he had something important to tell her.

“There’s a sweatshop in town, Odelia,” he said the moment he got into the car. “Kingman talked to Norma who said there are a lot of Chinese illegal aliens being kept on an old farm on the edge of town.”

“They’ve got bars on the windows, Odelia,” said Dooley.

“And they’re not allowed to leave,” said Brutus.

“And they have to work really hard,” Max added.

She glanced over at Chase.“You’re going to have to trust me on this, Chase.”

He looked puzzled.“Trust you on what?”

“Remember when you said I should use my sleuthing magic to solve this case?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Well, this is me pulling the sleuthing magic card and telling you just to drive where I tell you to drive and not ask me any questions.”

“Wait, what?”

She turned around, to the three cats who were now propped up on the backseat.“It’s the old Tucker place, out on Dubarq Road,” Max said.

“Go straight and then take a right at the end of the block,” she told Chase.

It didn’t take them long to arrive at their destination. And even though Chase had thrown her a lot of curious glances, he’d managed to refrain from asking her any questions. Now that they were nearing their destination, he abruptly pulled the car onto the shoulder, cut the engine and turned to her.

“So what’s this all about? What is back there at that old house?”

“It’s an old farm, and… I think there’s a sweatshop out there.”

He stared at her.“A sweatshop. In Hampton Cove. And you know that how?”

Now came the tricky part.“You remember when I told you about the note Gran found in her new Ziv Riding sweater?”

“The cry for help, yes.”

“And when Mom found a similar note in her blouse?”

“You think those notes came from this place?”

“Yes, I do. I think Ziv Riding isn’t having his clothes manufactured in Asia, like he claims. I think he’s having them manufactured right here in Hampton Cove, only in appalling conditions by people who are being held here against their will, and forced to work in terrible circumstances.”

He looked over the dashboard at the old farm. It didn’t look like a sweatshop, but she knew that if Max told her there was a sweatshop out there, he was most likely right. Cats had ways of finding out stuff.

Chase rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then turned back to face her.“So how do you know?”

“I, um…” She glanced back at the cats through the rearview mirror. They were shaking their heads, No! “See, the thing is…”

“I’m listening,” he said.

“I can’t tell you,” she finally said.

He uttered a surprised grunt.“What?”

“I simply can’t tell you.”

“That’s ridiculous. Either you knew already about this sweatshop, and completely forgot about it until you saw your cats parading down the street, or somehow your cats told you about this sweatshop, which is completely ridiculous.” He studied her for a moment. “So which is it, Odelia?”

She threw up her hands.“You’re right. Silly me. I totally forgot about the sweatshop. Seeing Max and Dooley and Brutus brought it all back to me.”

“Because…”

“Because…” She rooted around for a plausible response. “Because the person who called me last night and told me about the sweatshop also has a cat,” she said finally. “And seeing Max and the others reminded me.”

In the backseat, Max slapped his paw to his face.“Oh, God,” he muttered.

“And you can’t tell me who this person is?” Chase asked.

“I promised her I wouldn’t reveal her identity.”

He nodded, tapping his steering wheel.“Of course. And how did this person happen to find out?”

“She just happened to pass here the other day, and heard muffled shouts and cries. So she went to investigate closer and saw a bunch of people in there, locked up and being forced to sew Ziv Riding’s clothes.”

He gave her a comical grimace.“That’s just about the most ridiculous story I’ve ever heard. But I’m willing to give you a pass, Odelia.”

“You are? I mean, it’s the honest-to-God’s truth.”

“Of course it is.” He directed a suspicious look back at the cats. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m going to hazard a guess it’s got something to do with those cats. I don’t know what it is but I’m not going to pressure you into telling me.”

She blinked.“You’re not?”

“No, I’m not. I guess when the time comes and you feel you can trust me, you’ll tell me. For now I think our first priority should be to get those people out of there. But first we need to make sure your… source is telling the truth.”

“My source never lies,” she assured him.

He gave her a lopsided grin.“Honey, I’m a cop. Double-checking hot tips is what I do for a living. So please humor me.”

“Sure,” she said, pleasantly surprised that he’d let her off the hook so easily. “I’ll come with you.”

“No, that’s all right. You better stay here and out of sight. We don’t want to spook them and make them close up shop before we can get the cavalry out here.”

He opened the door and got out. But before he did, she said,“Chase?”

He stuck his head back in.“What?”

She gave him a warm smile.“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. One of these days I’m going to get you to spill all of your secrets, Odelia Poole. Just you wait and see.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, but you will.”

He gave the roof a pat and then he was off, keeping low, moving with surprising agility and grace. She saw him dart through a meadow, then he disappeared from sight.

“That was a close call,” she said, heaving out a long breath.

“Are you going to tell him?” Max asked.

“Maybe one day,” she said musingly. “But not now. Definitely not now.”

“I think you should tell him,” Brutus said surprisingly.

“And why is that?”

“There should be no secrets in a relationship,” he said.

She laughed.“For your information, we’re not in a relationship.”

“You will be,” he said.

“Don’t mind Brutus,” said Max. “He’s feeling a little out of sorts on account of the fact that Diego stole his girlfriend.”

“Diego stole Harriet?” she asked, surprised. “That was quick work.”

“He’s a quick worker,” Max said.

“He’s a snake,” Brutus grunted. “A viper in your bosom, Odelia.”

“Hey, watch what you say about Odelia’s bosom,” Dooley said.

“It’s an expression,” Max said.

“I don’t care! Brutus better show some respect.”

“I have the greatest respect for Odelia,” said Brutus. “You took me in when my need was high.”

“Your need wasn’t high,” said Dooley. “You got fed meat every day by Chase.”

“Chase never feeds me any meat. He barely notices I’m there. Chase is not a cat person. He just took me in because his mother asked him to.”

Max and Dooley goggled at Brutus.“No meat?” asked Max.

“No juicy steak,” Dooley asked.

“Just generic kibble,” Brutus grunted. “The kind on sale in your local supermarket.”

“Oh, Brutus,” said Odelia, touched.

“Don’t get me wrong,” said Brutus. “I love Chase. But… I love Odelia more.”

Silence reigned in the car for a few beats, then both Dooley and Max gave Brutus a hug, and Odelia reached back and tickled him under his chin.“And we love you, Brutus,” Dooley assured him.

“Well, we do now,” Max corrected him.

“Must have been that lack of meat that made him so intolerable,” Dooley added.

“Thanks,” Brutus grunted, clearly undone by these signs of affection. “Thanks, you guys. You’re the best friends a cat can ever hope to get. I won’t forget this.”

“You’re all right, Brutus,” Odelia said. “I’ll buy you all some meat tonight.”

There was a tap on the roof of the car and they all jumped a foot in the air. Then Chase’s head appeared through the open window. He was panting a little, and he was chewing on a piece of straw. “That’s a sweatshop, all right. Let’s call in the state police. This is a lot bigger than Hampton Cove.” He glanced back at the cats. “Well done, you guys.” He then directed a look at Odelia. “And now I’m talking to your cats. I’m going all screwy.”

“Not screwier than Odelia,” said Max.

Chase whipped his head around.“Was it my imagination or did he just talk back to me?”

But Odelia merely smiled.

Chapter 23

We patiently waited in the car until the state police that Chase had called in arrived. They came zooming down the road, blinkers and sirens off. The first car stopped right next to ours, and Chase quickly switched cars, and rode in with the cavalry. They surrounded the farmhouse. We watched from our first-row seat as dozens of cops exited their vehicles and descended upon the old Tucker farm, weapons drawn, approaching slowly and stealthily.

When finally Chase gave the all-clear sign, Odelia let us out of the car and we walked up with her.

We saw dozens of ill-dressed people being led out of the farmhouse. They looked unkempt and scared. Ambulances drove up and teams of EMTs took care of them. I saw that more than half a dozen of them were children, and they looked as dirty and undernourished as the adults. It was a horrible scene.

Odelia joined Chase, who stood discussing things with the same state trooper we’d seen earlier. It was clear this thing was big, as more cops arrived.

“Who can do such a thing?” Dooley asked as we approached the house.

“Humans,” said Brutus.

“Greedy humans,” I corrected him.

“You’re right,” he conceded. “Not all humans are the same.”

“Odelia would never do something like this,” said Dooley.

“No, you’re right about that,” Brutus admitted. “Odelia is a saint.”

And he meant it, too.

We darted inside the house, making sure we didn’t get in the way of the cops who were still coming and going. We passed what looked like barracks for the workers to sleep. Rickety tables and chairs. Bunk beds with ratty blankets and dirty old mattresses where they spent their nights.

Another large, ill-lit and ill-ventilated room held rows and rows of sewing machine stations, large ironing boards and piles and piles of material used to turn into the expensive, exclusive clothes sold under the Ziv Riding label. There was a pile of those labels, and I wondered who’d written the notes that had been smuggled out sewed inside those labels.

“This is way depressing,” Dooley said.

“Yeah, even more depressing than Diego,” Brutus chimed in.

We quickly took a peek in the lavatories—as dirty and unhygienic as any I’d ever seen—and the canteen where the workforce had taken their meals—and then I’d had enough. This much human misery I’d never seen before. Even cats were treated better in Hampton Cove.

“I hope they catch whoever is responsible for this and lock them up for a long stretch,” I said as we stepped out and breathed in fresh air again.

“Or better yet, lock them up and throw away the key,” said Brutus.

“Must be this Ziv Riding guy, right?” Dooley ventured a guess.

We returned to where Odelia and Chase stood discussing things and parked ourselves at their feet. I didn’t want to be trampled on by the dozens of cops and other personnel that had by now descended on the site, and I didn’t feel like walking all the way back to the center of town, so sticking close to Odelia was our best option. Sticking close to Odelia was always our best option, period.

“So what’s going to happen now?” Odelia asked.

“Now we’re going to talk to our NYPD colleagues and ask them to arrest Ziv Riding,” Chase replied.

“Do you think he knew about this?”

“I can’t see how he wouldn’t. This is his collection being created here. How could he not know?”

“I don’t know,” she said, looking at the dozens of people still being led to the ambulances. “The people at the top don’t always know what’s going on at the bottom.”

“Riding is a control freak. I’m sure there’s no aspect of his business he’s not fully aware of.”

“Then I hope he goes to jail for this,” she said resolutely.

“Hey, that’s what I just said,” I said.

“And I hope they lock him up and throw away the key,” Chase grunted.

“And that’s what I said!” Brutus cried.

Yep. Cats often turn into their humans. Or the other way around.

“So do you think we’re getting meat tonight?” Dooley asked, already losing interest in the human drama in progress right in front of us.

“I hope so,” said Brutus. “I haven’t had a decent piece of meat in ages.”

“And here we always thought you got raw meat every single day,” I said.

“Yeah, I kinda lied about that,” he admitted.

“But why?” Dooley asked.

He heaved an exasperated groan.“It’s complicated.”

“Explain it to me,” said Dooley. “I’m smart. I’ll understand.”

Brutus gave him a dubious look.

“Explain it me, and I’ll explain it to Dooley in two-syllable words,” I said.

“Hey!” Dooley cried. “I’m right here!”

“When I saw how good you guys had it with the Pooles, I kinda got jealous,” Brutus admitted. “So I decided to…”

“Make it look like you had it better than us?” I suggested.

He nodded, a little embarrassed.“Something like that. I just figured if you thought I ate raw meat every day, you wouldn’t feel sorry for me.”

“Feel sorry for you!” Dooley exclaimed. “Why would we feel sorry for you?!”

“Because you don’t know how good you’ve got it!” he barked. “You just don’t.”

“Yes, we do,” I said softly.

“Yes, we do,” Dooley echoed happily. “And now you do, too, buddy.”

“Thanks,” Brutus said in a choky voice. “Thanks, you guys. And sorry that I was such a pest.”

“That’s all right. We haven’t been very nice to you either,” I said.

“Well, I deserved it.”

“Yes, you did,” Dooley said.

We all laughed, and for the first time I was starting to think that we might actually be friends one day. I wasn’t saying we would, but there was definitely a chance.

Chapter 24

Uncle Alec had called to say he had big news. A breakthrough in the Niklaus Skad murder case. So Odelia and Chase had hurried over to the police station for an update. The state police were handling the sweatshop business, and would liaise with the NYPD to establish Ziv Riding’s involvement—if any.

They arrived at the station house and walked right on through to Chief Alec’s office. The big man was lounged in his chair, checking his computer screen. A first for the chief. He usually left all the computer business to younger, savvier officers or Chase.

He looked up when they entered, sporting the typical slightly confused and frustrated expression of a man not used to working on a PC.

“Hey, Uncle,” Odelia said. “So what’s this breakthrough you were talking about?”

“Well, looks like we finally cracked the case,” he said, then pounded a few keys on his keyboard angrily and finally threw up his hands with an exasperated groan. “How you youngsters can figure out this crap is beyond me. How do I open Niklaus Skad’s emails again? I know you showed me just yesterday, Chase, but I’ve gone and forgotten all about it.”

Chase walked around the desk and took over the mouse and keyboard.“You just click here and type in your password and you’re in,” he explained.

Chief Alec gave Odelia a grimace.“It’s all Chinese to me. I’m happy I can check my own emails. I don’t need to check anyone else’s.”

“What did you want to check?” Chase asked, stepping back.

“Well, the coroner called about an hour ago. He said he’s been all wrong about the time of death. Apparently it was a little tough to establish an exact time with the body being all burned up. But he did some more tests, and said time of death was an hour, hour-and-a-half earlier than he initially thought. Which means…” he said meaningfully, his eyes glittering.

“That we have to recheck all of the suspects’ alibis,” Odelia completed the sentence.

“Already done that,” said the Chief, picking up a yellow legal pad. He held it up. “This beats any computer any day in my book.”

“That’s because you’re old, Chief,” Chase teased.

“Yeah, I’m old, and I’m not too proud to admit it!”

“So where does this leave us?” Odelia asked, already going over each suspect in her mind.

“Well, let’s see what we’ve got,” said the Chief, frowning at his notes, which looked pretty illegible to Odelia. “According to Abe, time of death was around eleven, and not after midnight. Brainard and Isabella were engaged with their Echo from nine until three o’clock at night.”

“That was a marathon session,” said Chase with a glint of amusement.

“You can say that again. Guess I’ll have to read up on my Kama Sutra one of these days.”

“Or get yourself an Echo,” Odelia suggested.

“Never in my life,” said the Chief adamantly. “So who else is on this list? Hendrik Serarols. He’s in the clear, too. His interview at the other restaurant, which took place over a late dinner with the proprietor, lasted from eleven until well after midnight. And since he also had to get there and back, he’s in the clear.”

“Too bad,” said Chase. “I liked him as a suspect.”

“That leaves us with Cybil Truscott,” the Chief continued. “Whose toy boy exploits started around ten, as evidenced by multiple witnesses.”

“And Facebook videos,” Odelia added.

“So that leaves her out as well.”

“What about Stacie Roebuck?” Chase asked. “The bullied assistant?”

“Well, I talked to the guy in charge of security at the Hampton Springs Hotel. They have some complicated system installed, where they can check time stamps on the key cards. They were so kind to check the log for Room 327 and found that Miss Roebuck was in from nine until six o’clock in the morning, when she apparently went for a morning jog.”

“She could have snuck out through the window and jumped to the balcony of the next room,” Odelia said, remembering how Max, Dooley and Brutus said they’d gained access to Stacie’s room.

Her uncle pointed a finger at her.“And that’s why I had the neighbors checked. The family staying in 325 were in all night. Only left the room for dinner, and then retired for the night. Same story with the septuagenarian in 326. He went to bed at nine and got up at five to go for a walk.”

“Very boring people,” Chase muttered. “Who stays in all night?”

“Families and old folks,” said Uncle Alec with a stern look at him. “They can’t all be Cybil Truscotts or partying teenagers, Chase.”

“Fair enough,” he said, holding up his hands.

“Besides, I thought we already established that Stacie Roebuck doesn’t have the kind of physical strength needed to carry out this murder?” Alec added.

“Just making sure we’ve covered all the bases,” Chase said.

“Next—and now it gets interesting,” said the Chief, “is Konrad Daines.” He settled back, a smug expression on his face. “Mr. Daines was arrested for disorderly conduct and public intoxication when he crashed the Clintons’ party.”

“So? That gives him a rock-solid alibi,” said Chase.

“Officers were called to the scene at two o’clock in the morning,” the Chief added triumphantly. “We talked to the people he was partying with, and that particular party only started after midnight. So we have no idea what Mr. Daines was up to before that time. That wasn’t a problem when we thought Niklaus had been killed after midnight, but now…”

“He just might have done it,” Chase said.

“Exactly.”

Odelia stared at her uncle.“So you think Konrad Daines is our guy?”

“I think Konrad Daines is our guy,” the Chief confirmed. “And to that effect I’ve sent a couple of officers around to the hotel to pick him up.” He checked his watch. “They should be back any minute now.”

“We talked to Konrad,” Chase reminded Alec. “I liked him as a suspect.”

“Oh, and one other thing,” said the Chief. “I remembered seeing an email Niklaus wrote to Konrad. That’s why I was trying to access the emails.” He turned the screen so Odelia could follow along. Her uncle quickly scrolled through the emails, then tapped the screen with his pudgy finger. “Here it is. I knew I’d seen it flash by.”

“You have to click the mouse to open the email, Uncle,” Odelia said. “Tapping it with your finger won’t work.”

“Unless he’s got a touchscreen,” Chase added.

“I know that!” the Chief cried. “I may not know a lot about computers, but I know how to use a mouse!” He clicked to open the email. “Listen to this,” he said. “This is from the day before Niklaus died. ‘I heard aboutChopped Liver being, well, chopped. I’m so sorry about your loss, Konrad. Not! I told youKitchen Disasters was the superior show and I was the superior chef and now I’ve gone and proved it. I hope this will show you that I’m the greatest celebrity chef in the world, and you’ll always be a second-rate amateur. Take that, you whiny loser!’”

“That wasn’t very nice,” Chase said.

“No, that was outright mean,” Odelia said, shocked.

“And I think it’s motive,” said the Chief. “Konrad got this email, spent the day chewing on it, and by the time evening rolled around, he’d gone and whipped himself up into a frenzy of rage and revenge. He knew Niklaus was in town, and most likely to be found atFry Me for an Oyster, so he went there on the off chance he’d find him. They met—they fought—he killed him and then shoved him into the oven to get rid of the evidence. Andthen he went on his bender.”

“Stacie said Niklaus never visited the restaurants he did,” Odelia said. “Konrad would never have found him there.”

“So he bumped into him somewhere else, and they went to the restaurant together. Or maybe he called him and they met out there.”

It all sounded a little fuzzy to her.“Has Abe discovered the cause of death yet?”

“No, he hasn’t. Most likely scenario is that Skad was strangled. But since the soft tissue around the neck is gone, he won’t be able to prove it.”

“So now all you have to do is get a confession and it’s case closed,” said Chase.

“You also think Konrad is our guy?” Odelia asked.

“Why? Don’t you?”

She shook her head slowly.“Something doesn’t sit right with me.”

“He’s got motive!” cried her uncle. “He had opportunity. He’s our guy!”

“Remember when we went to visit him, Chase?” she asked. “How he was certain we were there to talk about the drunk and disorderly thing?”

“So? He lied. He’s a TV personality. I’m sure he knows a thing or two about acting.”

“He didn’t strike me as dishonest,” she insisted. “He genuinely thought we were there to talk about Bill Clinton’s party. He had no clue we were there to talk about the murder.”

The two men shrugged.“I say we’ve got our guy,” the Chief repeated.

It was definitely possible, of course. After all, being taunted in such a mean way could have made Konrad Daines snap, especially on the day his own show had been canceled and he was already feeling very low. Still, the impression she got from him wasn’t that he was a killer.

Ten minutes later, the officers who’d gone to fetch Konrad finally arrived, the fallen celebrity chef in tow, and put him into the interrogation room. Chase and Odelia followed her uncle and watched through the one-way mirror as the latter entered the room and took a seat across from Konrad. The man looked much the worse for wear,as if being arrested was the final straw to his collapse.

“Mr. Daines,” her uncle began. “It’s come to my attention that Niklaus Skad wrote you an email the day before he died.”

Konrad stared at him. His bristly hair stood in all directions, and his skin had gone pale and blotchy.“An email?”

“Yes. Shall I read it to you? Jog your memory?” And as he did, Konrad’s face grew paler still. He looked nothing like the famous TV chef he was.

“I remember,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Niklaus was an animal. I hated him so much—so very, very much.”

“Is that why you killed him?”

Konrad stared at Chief Alec, his lips moving wordlessly.

The Chief slammed the table.“You hated him so much you killed him, isn’t that right, Konrad?”

The chef started shaking. It was clear he was in the throes of a breakdown.“Yes,” he finally whispered.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I wanted him dead. I wanted him dead so, so much. I wanted to kill him—cut him—skewer him—chop off his head—rip him to pieces!”

Spittle was flying from his lips now, his eyes wild and crazy.

“So you admit you killed him,” her uncle said calmly.

“Yes! Yes, I killed Niklaus Skad!” Konrad suddenly cried, getting up from his chair. “I killed the greatest chef alive! Me, Konrad Daines! I destroyed the monster! I finished him off like the worm he was! I did it!”

“Settle down, Mr. Daines,” said the Chief, looking a little worried.

“I think he’s lost it,” Odelia said.

“I think you’re right,” Chase agreed. “But he still confessed.”

“I killed him! The monster is dead! The monster is dead!” Konrad screamed, pounding the walls of the room.

Uncle Alec darted a glimpse at the one-way mirror. He didn’t look at ease.

“I think we better get a couple of officers in there,” said Chase. “Before he attacks your uncle.”

“The monster is dead! The monster is finally dead!”

The Chief hurried out of the room while three officers moved in to restrain Konrad. When he joined them, he was wiping perspiration from his brow.“Phew. The guy just went nuts on me.”

“At least you got your confession,” Odelia said.

They both watched Konrad pick up a chair and smash it on the table.“Yeah, at least we got his confession,” Uncle Alec said, scratching his head.

“The monster is dead! I killed him! I killed him dead! Me! I won!”

Somehow, there was something wrong with this picture, Odelia thought. Whatever Konrad said, she couldn’t help feeling the real killer was still out there.

Chapter 25

Odelia had dropped the three of us off at the police station, where she had some urgent business to take care of. She said there had been some kind of breakthrough in the case of the celebrity chef, so that was great. Most likely Chief Alec had caught the killer and now Hampton Cove would return to its usual peaceful state. It let us off the hook, as we no longer had to root around to catch the killer. Not that I minded. For some reason sleuthing came naturally to me. Probably because I’m a naturally curious cat. It’s just the way I’m wired, I guess.

We were traipsing along Main Street when we saw Gran ducking into some alley with that ancient boyfriend of hers. Oh, God. Not again.

“Wasn’t that your human?” Brutus asked.

Dooley looked up, completely oblivious as usual.“Huh?”

“Gran just went into that alley with Leo,” I said.

“She did? Maybe we should see what she’s up to?” Dooley suggested.

“Why would we want to see what she’s up to?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s really none of our business,” Brutus said, not sounding too keen.

“She’s my human, you guys!” Dooley cried. “I have a responsibility!”

“I think it’s the other way around, Dooley,” I said. “She has a responsibility towards you, not you towards her.”

“It goes both ways,” he said stubbornly. “She looks after me, so I need to look after her. What if this guy Leo is up to no good? What then? And I just sat here while she was being assaulted or something!”

“She’s not being assaulted,” I said. “It’s just that she can’t take Leo home because nobody approves of him, so they’ve gone and taken their affair to the streets.”

“Weird,” said Brutus.

“What’s weird?” I asked.

“I always thought human adults could do whatever they wanted. That it was just teenagers and kids that had to sneak around their parents’ backs.”

“Once you reach a certain age you revert back to the same state of having to sneak around,” I said. “Only now you sneak around your kids’ backs.”

“I still think it’s weird,” Brutus said with a shrug.

Well, it was kinda weird, of course. Once upon a time Marge had probably snuck around with Tex, canoodling in backseats of cars or bushes near the beach, and now it was Gran’s turn to do the same to her daughter. It was probably the circle of life or something. LikeThe Lion King.

“The more I learn about humans the more I think they’re way weird,” Brutus insisted.

“Better not to think about it too much,” Dooley said.

Of course, Dooley never thought about anything too much, so for him that came naturally.

We’d reached the alley, and darted a peek around the corner, fully expecting to see stuff that would hurt our eyes. Instead, I saw something that horrified me to my core. There was Diego, and there was a cat, but that cat wasn’t Harriet!

“Um, am I seeing this right?” asked Brutus. “Is Diego putting the moves on that feline over there?”

“You are seeing this right!” I said.

We all stared. Diego was doing stuff to that feline I’d never seen before, unless in those nature documentaries on theDiscovery Channel. I mean, I have been with a female before, of course, but I’d never done… that!

“What are they doing?” Dooley asked.

“Something that’s not suitable for young viewers,” Brutus growled.

“I’m not a young viewer,” said Dooley.

“Well, you’re not an old viewer either,” Brutus said. He let out a long sigh of relief. “You know what this means, right?”

“That Diego is the hottest stud ever to walk these streets?” I asked.

“No! That Diego is cheating on Harriet.”

“Oh. Right,” I said. I was so fascinated by the moves Diego was demonstrating that the thought of Harriet hadn’t even occurred to me.

Dooley twisted his head to try and get the upside-down view.“No, but whatare they doing?” he asked.

“If I tell Harriet about this, she’ll break up with Diego in a heartbeat!” Brutus said.

“She won’t believe you,” I said automatically. I was also twisting my head one-hundred-and-eighty degrees. This stuff was fascinating. I was learning things I’d never seen before, not even on theDiscovery Channel.

“She’ll have to believe me!” Brutus exclaimed. “You guys are going to back me up on this, right? You’re my witnesses.”

“Sure. But she won’t believe us either,” I said.

“But why? You’re her friends!”

“Trust me, Brutus. When it comes to matters of the heart, a female feline only believes what she wants to believe. And if she wants to believe Diego is God’s gift to cats, nothing we say will convince her otherwise.”

“We need proof!” Brutus said, searching around. “We need Odelia with her phone. She needs to film this! She needs to get this on video and show Harriet!”

“Even so. Harriet is not going to believe it unless she sees it with her own eyes,” I said. “Trust me on this, Brutus. That’s just the way it is.”

“Oh, God!” he cried. “This is just one big nightmare, isn’t it?”

“Do you think it hurts?” Dooley asked, now lying on his back.

“I don’t think so,” I said.

“But they’re panting. And look at her. She looks like she’s in pain!”

“That’s not an expression of pain, Dooley,” I said. “That’s… rapture.”

“Rapture? What’s rapture?”

“Nothing you’ll ever experience,” I promised him.

“But why?!”

“Just think about the juiciest chicken wing God ever created.”

He frowned, thinking hard.“Uh-huh.”

“Now multiply that sensation by about a million.”

“Oh, my,” he said, eyes widening.

“Exactly.”

“Look, I’m going to get Odelia. She needs to see this,” Brutus said, sounding very agitated. “She’ll back me up. If she says Diego was doing the horizontal mambo with some other chick, Harriet has got to believe her.”

“What’s the horizontal mambo?” Dooley asked.

“Oh, Dooley,” I said with a sigh.

Brutus went off on his fool’s errand, and I stared after him for a moment. And that’s when I saw it. A Tesla, driving along Main Street. A very black Tesla.

“Dooley!” I said.

“Huh?”

“It’s the Tesla!”

He glanced the way I was looking.“Nice wheels.”

“It’s the car that was parked behind the restaurant that night! It’s got to be!”

And before he could respond, I broke into a run, in hot pursuit of the Tesla. I needed to get a glimpse at the license plate. I needed to figure out who that car belonged to. And as I came racing out of the alley, I saw that the car stopped right in front of a boutique store, halfway down the street. Panting, I came running up, and I watched as a tall Asian man stepped from the car and disappeared into the store. He was elegantly dressed in a kind of cape draped across his shoulders, shiny slicked-back black hair and snazzy sunglasses. I glanced at the license plate. It said Z1VR1D1N. I stared. Huh? Then I got it. ZIV RIDING!

Chapter 26

Konrad Daines had been charged with the murder of his celebrity chef rival and arrested. A lawyer was on his way over, though it was obvious there wasn’t a lot he’d be able to do for his client. Konrad had confessed. Case closed.

And Odelia was just about to go to the Gazette to write up the shocking story of the two rival TV stars, when Brutus came barging into the police station, meowing up a storm.

“You have to come with me, Odelia,” he pleaded.

She quickly glanced around, but Dolores had gone on a bathroom break, and Chase was still in the Chief’s office, discussing the denouement of the case. She crouched down. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Nobody’s hurt! It’s Diego!” Brutus said between two pants. He looked as if he’d been running, his heart beating a mile a minute.

“Diego? What about Diego?”

“He’s with another cat! You have to come along as my witness.”

“He’s with a cat? You mean, in the biblical sense?”

He stared at her blankly.“I don’t know what that means.”

“I mean, are they… smooching?”

He gave a disgusted snort.“Not just smooching. They’re having sex!”

She laughed, tickling Brutus behind his ears.“Oh, my. And we can’t have that, right?”

“No, we can’t! I mean, of course wecan, but Harriet… I mean…”

“I think I understand. You want me to tell Harriet that Diego is with some other cat, being unfaithful to her, so you and Harriet can get back together.”

“That’s it! You’re so smart!”

She sighed, getting up.“I can’t do that, Brutus. I can’t be a snitch on my own cats. If you feel Diego isn’t doing right by Harriet, you have to tell her, but I’m not going to sneak around and spy on him so I can tell on him to Harriet.”

“But why?! He shouldn’t be doing that!”

“That’s not for me to judge, Brutus. And, honestly, I think you should just let it go. I’m sure Harriet will find out soon enough what kind of cat Diego is. And she doesn’t need you to tell her.”

“But I… love her!”

“Then you’ll just have to trust her to do the right thing.”

“But how is she going to know about Diego if I don’t tell her?”

“She’ll know,” she said with a smile. “But if you go and snitch on Diego, she’ll lose all respect for Diego, and she’ll lose all respect for you, too.”

Brutus groaned in agony.“Why is everything always so complicated?!”

“I’m glad it’s not just us humans that make things complicated,” she said.

Just then, Max came slamming into the police station.“Odelia! You have to see this!”

She held up her hand.“Brutus already told me all about Diego, Max. And I told him I wouldn’t turn snitch on my own cats.”

“Who cares about Diego?!” Max cried. “It’s the Tesla! I saw the Tesla!”

Her curiosity piqued, she bent down again.“The black Tesla?”

He nodded furiously.“It belongs to Ziv Riding. He’s got one of those vanity plates, that’s how I found out. He went into one of the boutiques on Main Street.”

Now this was definitely interesting.“I think I better go and get Chase,” she said, and gave Max a pat on the head. “Well done, buddy. Great sleuthing.”

“Thanks,” he said, then caught Brutus’s scowl. “What?”

“Nothing,” said Brutus. “Just that I thought you’d back me up on the Diego thing.”

Max rolled his eyes.“Oh, God. Enough with the Diego thing already.”

She left the two cats and went in search of Chase. They needed to check up on this Tesla sighting. She hadn’t told Chase cats had seen the black Tesla parked behindFry Me for an Oyster, and neither would she tell Riding. It was enough that an anonymous witness had seen the car. She needn’t involve Max.

She stuck her head into her uncle’s office. “The black Tesla has been sighted. And guess what? It belongs to Ziv Riding.”

“Sweatshop Ziv Riding?” Chase asked.

“Yep. One and the same.”

“Well, go on, then,” said the Chief. “Go ask him what he was doing here the night of the murder.”

They didn’t need her uncle’s encouragement. She and Chase were hotfooting it out of the police station and hurrying along the street before Chief Alec had managed to get up from his seat.

“So who saw the car?” Chase asked.

“I did, actually,” she said after a moment’s pause.

“I thought you said the Tesla had been sighted?”

“Yeah, by me. It was sighted by me.”

He gave her a curious look.“Why didn’t you just say that?”

She flapped her hands a bit.“I was so excited I couldn’t think straight!”

“Right,” he said, and she had the impression he didn’t believe one word she said. But she couldn’t worry about that now. They needed to figure out what the fashion designer had been doing that night at the restaurant.

“Are you sure it’s the same car that was parked in the alley that night?”

“Not a hundred percent sure, no,” she admitted.

“I mean, there must be hundreds of Teslas, thousands, even. And a lot of them are black.”

“I guess so,” she said.

“So what makes you think it was Riding’s car?”

She paused for a moment.“Actually…”

He gave her a wry look and halted, right in front of the General Store.“What’s going on, Odelia? Why are you going about half-cocked?”

She flapped her arms again, looking more like a chicken than a reporter.“I have a hunch, all right?”

“A hunch,” he said skeptically. He’d crossed his arms over his chest and stood regarding her with his head to one side, as if wondering what to do with her.

“A hunch! I have a hunch that this Tesla is that Tesla!”

“You never told me who the witness was that saw the Tesla that night.”

“I—I can’t. I—I promised I wouldn’t reveal her name.”

“If you’ll just let me talk to her I might get a confirmation on the license plate.”

She shook her head decidedly.“She didn’t see the license plate.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” She wondered what would happen if she told Chase Max had heard it from Montserrat, the stray Erin Coka had taken under her wing, who’d heard it from some other stray. He’d probably have her 5150ed.

“So let me get this straight,” he said. “Someone—who doesn’t want to be named—told you she saw a black Tesla parked outside the restaurant the night Niklaus Skad was killed. No license plate. Now you see another black Tesla, driven by Ziv Riding, parked along the street, and you want totalk to the man, why, exactly?”

“Don’t you think it’s too much of a coincidence? Ziv Riding has this sweatshop in town, and his car was seen at a murder scene?”

“We don’t even know if Riding and Skad knew each other. And may I remind you that we caught Skad’s killer? He’s in custody right now. The case is closed, Odelia.”

“But what about the sweatshop thing?”

“Not our concern! We’re not handling that investigation and we’re not going to get involved, either.”

She shook her head, stubbornly.“I still feel—”

“It’s not about what you ‘feel,’” he said. “It’s about the facts.” He raked his fingers through his mane. “Oh, God. And I almost went along with this nonsense. Me and your uncle.” He held up his hands. “Look, you’re on your own with this. Please don’t involve me. And may Iadd that I have a strong suspicion you’re not telling me everything you know?”

They stared at each other, and then she said.“I know Riding’s Tesla was parked at the restaurant. And I’m going to find out what’s going on. With or without you.”

“Well, it’s going to be without me, honey,” he said, stepping back. “Like I said, you’re on your own from here on out.”

And without another word, he turned around and started walking back to the police station.

Nice, she thought. Nicely played, Odelia. So now what?

Chapter 27

Brutus and I walked out of the police station and back to the alley, where presumably Dooley still sat watching—and having his youthful innocence thoroughly screwed up.

“Odelia should have backed us up,” Brutus said. “She should have had our backs.”

“Odelia has our backs,” I said. “All of our backs, Diego included.”

“But how is that even possible?! Diego isn’t even part of our family.”

“He is to her. The moment that cat set foot inside her home, he became family.”

“It’s just not fair.”

“You don’t get it, do you? Odelia doesn’t play favorites. She doesn’t love one of us more than the others. And she’s right about Harriet. She’s smarter than you give her credit for. Have you ever considered Harriet has Diego’s number?”

“She can’t have his number. She doesn’t even know he’s out here.”

“Let’s just wait and see,” I said. “First things first, though. We have to get Dooley out of there. Diego is a bad influence on him.”

We arrived at the alley. To my surprise there was no trace of Dooley.

“Where did he go?” I muttered, looking around.

“And where did Diego go?” asked Brutus. There were dumpsters parked along the alley, butting up to the bricked-up back walls of the stores that lined the parallel street. We headed deeper into the alley, half expecting to find Gran and Leo cavorting around somewhere. What we found were Dooley and Diego, however, seated behind a dumpster and deep in conversation.

“So that’s the secret, dude,” Diego was saying. “You just snag ‘em, bag ‘em and then throw ‘em back.”

“But won’t they resent you for it?” Dooley asked.

“What do you care? There’s plenty of cats in the sea. When you’re finished with one, you just start tagging another one.”

Dooley laughed.“Tag ‘em, snag ‘em and bag ‘em. That rhymes!”

“It sure does,” said Diego with a smirk. “I’m glad you’re catching on, dude.”

“Let me just stop you right there,” I said, stepping from behind the dumpster.

“Max!” Dooley cried. “Diego’s been teaching me all about his technique for bagging queens! Isn’t that great?!”

I winced.“Not so great. Queens aren’t a commodity to be tagged, snagged and bagged, Dooley. They’re our fellow creatures and they deserve our respect.”

“What a load of nonsense,” said Diego. “Don’t listen to him, Dooley. You just do what I taught you, and you’ll have the females eating out of the palm of your paw for the rest of your life. Just like they do with me. They’ll just swoon!”

“Well, I certainly would like females to swoon,” Dooley said.

“Just think about Harriet,” I said. “And how Diego has been treating her.”

“Hey, I treated Harriet just fine,” said Diego. He grinned. “Just ask her. She said she’s never been with a cat that made her feel the way I did.”

“That’s a lie!” Brutus yelled.

Diego held up his paw.“Straight from the cat’s mouth, brother.”

“Females are not chattel, Dooley,” I said sternly. “You need to treat them with respect, just like you do with everyone.”

“Don’t listen to that wuss,” said Diego. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Hey, who are you calling a wuss?” Brutus snarled, stepping to my defense.

“You! All of you! You’re just a bunch of pussies.”

Well, he was right about that, of course. We were pussies.

“You take that back!” Brutus yelled.

Diego displayed a wide grin and lifted his paw, displaying sharp claws.“And what if I don’t?”

“Don’t be like that, you guys,” said Dooley. “Diego is our friend. He can teach us stuff. Lots of interesting stuff.”

“Whatever Diego told you, you better forget, Dooley,” I said. “All of it.”

Diego apparently had had enough. He suddenly stepped up and hit me, hard, across the nose.“Ouch!” I cried as blood trickled down my snout.

“See?!” Diego cried. “Your friend is just a dumb scaredy-cat, Dooley. Can’t even defend himself!”

Dooley sat staring at me.“Max? Is he right? Are you a scaredy-cat?”

I would have told him I was a lover, not a fighter, but that just didn’t seem right under the circumstances. Instead, I glowered at Diego. Truth was, I’m not much of a brawler. I like to think I’m above physical violence. And then there was the fact that Diego looked a lot fitter and stronger than me, and I had the sneaking suspicion he was going to beat me in a fair fight.

“Don’t you go hitting my friend, you sneaky snake in the grass,” Brutus growled.

Diego had gone through quite the transformation. His tail was fluffed up and he was making low growling sounds at the back of his throat. His claws were out and his head was down, snarling and hissing at Brutus. Yep. He was ready to fight.

Brutus, seeing this, seemed taken aback.“Go on,” I said. “You can beat him!”

But Brutus didn’t seem entirely sure. “I don’t know, Max,” he said. “He looks really mean.”

And then suddenly, out of nowhere, Diego lashed out, slashing Brutus across the face with his claws. Brutus said,“Eek!” and jumped back just in time to avoid the razor-sharp claws of his opponent, then sat there, his tail between his legs.

Diego huffed out a booming laugh.“See, Dooley? Your friends are just a couple of pussies!” He draped a paw around Dooley’s shoulder. “You stick with me from now on, buddy. I’ll teach you everything I know.”

“Dooley!” I cried. “Don’t go with him!”

Dooley glanced back. He seemed confused and conflicted.

All of a sudden there was a loud CLUNK right next to us. I jerked my head up, and saw that a cat had landed on the dumpster. She was a feral cat, her fur all mangled and matted and missing in parts. She looked like she’d been in more fights than the members ofFight Club, and had a scar that ran through one of her eyes. She looked like a monster. I recognized her instantly.

“Clarice!” I cried.

“Oh, no, not Clarice,” Brutus said with a whimper, and Dooley, too, didn’t look happy to see her. He clasped a hand to his nose, which tended to get slashed every time we got involved with the wild cat.

“Who the hell are you?” Diego asked, giving her the evil eye.

“I am your worst nightmare,” she hissed, slowly moving along the top of the dumpster, her claws scratching the metal. “I am the one female that will never be seduced by your clever lines, your smooth tongue or your treacherous lies.”

“You’re not a female,” Diego said with a careless laugh. “I don’t know what you are, but you’re definitely not on my list. Just look at her, Dooley. Ha ha! Look at that mongrel, dude!”

But Dooley wasn’t laughing, and neither was the rest of us.

“Better hold your tongue, Diego,” she hissed, running a claw along the edge of the dumpster. “Or I just might cut it out!”

“What an idiot!” Diego laughed. “And ugly as the night, too!”

“Max, Brutus and Dooley are my friends,” Clarice declared, quite surprisingly. “You mess with my friends, you mess with me!”

“Well, come on then,” said Diego. “If you want to rumble, let’s rumble!”

Clarice displayed a sly smile.“Oh, you’re asking for it? Well, fine.”

And with these words, she jumped from the dumpster, right on top of Diego’s head. For the next few seconds, there was a blur of activity as the two cats fought. There was a lot of hissing, a lot of snarling, and even more vicious clawing going on. Fur was flying as claws were scratching and hitting their mark.

Then, as suddenly as it had all started, it was over. There was a loud squeak of pain, and a whirr of orange as Diego raced off, his tail between his legs, missing a good chunk of fur and leaving a trail of blood as he streaked off, caterwauling all the while.

Clarice, who seemed unharmed, sat casually licking the blood from her claws.“That should teach that misguided Romeo a lesson he’ll never forget.”

“Clarice, you’re my hero!” suddenly a voice rang out behind us.

We all looked around, and saw that we’d been joined by Harriet.

She sat looking at the spot of orange in the distance that was Diego.

“How long have you been sitting there?” I asked.

“Long enough to hear Diego’s mean-spirited and outright horrible advice,” she said softly. “And even long enough to see him with that other cat.” She gestured up. “I was actually on the roof. I’d followed him here when he went out. Said he was going to get a breath of fresh air.” She shook her head. “I knew he was up to no good. A player like him?”

Clarice stared at the spot of orange that grew smaller and smaller.“I don’t think he’ll be back, honey. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t,” she said. “In fact I should have been the one to teach him a lesson.” She nodded at the feral cat. “Thank you, Clarice.”

Clarice shrugged.“Eh. Just a little community service. I had my eye on that player for a while. Nasty little devil. I enjoyed it, actually. It’s not every day that I can take out the good old claws and get a little practice in.”

“I’m so sorry, Brutus,” Harriet said. “I know I hurt you terribly.”

“Oh, sweetie pie,” Brutus muttered brokenly. “Sugar plum.”

“Oh, hugsy wugsy,” Harriet sighed. “My huggy boo. Forgive me?”

“Of course, sweet cheeks. In a heartbeat.”

“Oh, cuddle cakes.”

The big reunion scene was both endearing and massively annoying, and I had to turn away when Harriet and Brutus started sniffing each other’s butts, just like old times.

“Ugh,” Clarice said. “I’m out of here. This is too much for me.”

This from the cat that took on bullies twice her size and fed on rats that would have scared the average human.

“Bye, Clarice,” Dooley said.

“See ya next time,” Clarice said, padding off. “Stay out of trouble, you two.”

We looked on as she gracefully jumped up on a dumpster, then onto a ledge, and then made her way to the roof of the nearest store.

Dooley let out a long sigh of admiration.“What a cat,” he said.

“Yeah, what a cat,” I agreed heartily.

Dooley turned to me.“I’m sorry I doubted you, Max.”

“That’s all right.”

“No, you were right. Diego was a bad influence. It’s just that… he sounded so convincing.”

“That’s the power of the dark side for you, Dooley,” I said.

“Oh, is that what that was?” he asked, eyes wide. “It’s so powerful!”

“Yeah, good thing Clarice showed up and brought you back to the light.”

“Right,” he said. “So Clarice is like Princess Leia, huh?”

“Um… something like that, I guess.”

We looked at Harriet and Brutus, in the midst of their make-up scene, and both turned away and started making our way out of the alley.

“I think I’m way too young for all that dating stuff, Max.”

“I think you’re right, Dooley.”

“It just looks very complicated.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t like complicated, Max.”

“Me neither, Dooley. Me neither.”

Chapter 28

Odelia stubbornly walked on. If Chase didn’t want to confront Ziv Riding about his nocturnal visit to Hampton Cove, she was. She stalked over in the direction of the boutique where Max said he’d seen the Tesla parked, and saw Riding leaving the store and returning to his vehicle.

She hurried over, wanting to catch him before he skedaddled. The store was Riding’s, and exclusively carried the Ziv Riding brand.

“Mr. Riding!” she yelled. “Mr. Riding! A word, sir!”

Riding turned around, his hand on the door of his car. He was a handsome man with smooth, even features and remarkable black eyes. A smile spread on his face when he saw her coming.“Of course I’ll do a selfie, darling. But only one. And only from the right. That’s my best side.”

“My name is Odelia Poole, and I’m a reporter for the Hampton Cove Gazette and a civilian consultant with the Hampton Cove Police Department.”

His smile faltered.“No selfie?”

“No,” she said decidedly. “No selfie. Someone saw your car parked behindFry Me for an Oyster a couple of nights ago.”

Now his smile was completely wiped away.“No comment, Miss…”

“Poole. Odelia Poole.”

He opened his car door and made to get in.“Bye, Miss Poole.”

“It was the same night Niklaus Skad was murdered, Mr. Riding. Would you care to comment?”

“No, I would rather not,” he said as he slid into his seat. He tried to close the door, but Odelia held onto it. “What was your involvement with Niklaus Skad, Mr. Riding?”

“No involvement. I liked his cooking show, though. Now could you please let go of my door, Miss Poole? It’s my door and I need it.”

“What about the sweatshop you built in town? What was your involvement with that?”

“I don’t know about any sweatshop. My clothes are all made in Asia. Now please if you could just…”

“Your clothes were made by Asian workers you illegally brought into this country and then set to work in appalling conditions.”

“Thank you for your interest,” he said. “Please schedule an interview with my publicist. I’m always happy to talk to the members of the press.”

With a press of his finger, he started the car and drove off, closing the door as he moved away. It was amazing, Odelia thought. The car hardly made any noise. It just… glided away ever so gracefully. Then she groaned in dismay. The guy was as slippery as they came. And she had nothing on him. Nothing at all.

She mounted the sidewalk and staggered off, feeling utterly dejected. Chase thought she was a flake and that she was hiding something. She’d just angered a fashion designer who probably had nothing to do with this whole Niklaus Skad thing. And she had to sort out the mess her cats had made. This whole Diego versus Brutus thing was getting out of hand.

She set foot for the alley Brutus had been talking about. Maybe she should sort this out once and for all. It wasn’t as if she had anything better to do. Like her uncle said, they caught the killer. He confessed. The rest was conjecture.

The first thing she saw when she entered the alley was Max and Dooley sauntering towards her.“Hey, Odelia,” said Max. “How did it go with Ziv Riding?”

“It didn’t. Though he drives a really cool car. How did things go with Diego?” Dooley jerked his thumb in the direction of the alley, and she saw Brutus and Harriet, smooching up a storm. “I take it things worked themselves out?”

“They certainly did,” Max said. “With a little help from Clarice.”

“Right,” she said.

“Hey. Isn’t that Grandma?” asked Max.

She looked in the direction indicated, and saw that it was indeed her grandmother, and she was looking just as dejected as she was feeling. She was shuffling along on the other side of the street. So she quickly crossed and joined her.“Gran? What’s wrong?”

Gran looked up, her wrinkly face drawn.“Oh, I won’t tell you.”

“You won’t tell me what?”

“You’ll just laugh at me.”

“I promise I won’t laugh at you.”

“It’s Leo. He left me.”

“He left you?”

“Yeah, for a younger woman. Can you believe it? We were making out in the park when some hot young dame sat down next to us. Leo’s eyes wandered, the hot chick giggled, and then his hands wandered and next thing I knew he was making out with her instead of me! I just left.”

“Some hot young chick made out with Leo? How old was this chick?”

“You know her. Frankie Canolli’s grandmother Jackie.”

“Jackie Canolli? But she’s like a hundred!”

Gran gave her a hard stare.“She’s younger than me!”

“Not by much.” Odelia had been in school with Frankie. They were the same age.

“Didn’t you tell her off? Or Leo?”

Gran shrugged her bony shoulders.“Ah. No use talking to Leo. We were never much for talking anyway. Ours was more a physical bond.”

“I’ll say,” she muttered.

“And I’m not speaking to Jackie. Haven’t said a word to her since she took my roast beef recipe and passed it off at the pinochle club as her own.”

She placed an arm around her grandmother’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. I didn’t like Leo, but that’s just because I didn’t think he deserved you.”

“I know he didn’t deserve me, but at my age you can’t afford to be choosy, honey.”

They walked in silence for a while.“Chase is mad with me,” she finally said.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“He thinks I’m hiding something from him.”

“About the cats, huh?”

“Yeah. He knows something is going on but he can’t figure out what it is and now he’s mad I’m not telling him.”

“So tell him.”

She looked at her grandmother.“What?”

“Just tell him. See how he reacts. If he’s fine with it, he’s a keeper. If not…” She held up her hand. “Well, then at least you know he doesn’t deserve you.”

She gave her grandmother a hug.“Thanks, Gran. I won’t tell him but still, thanks.”

“If you’re not going to tell him, and he’s going to stay mad at you, can I have a shot at him?”

“Gran!”

“Just asking.”

Chapter 29

Chase had placed his long legs on Chief Alec’s desk, while the chief had done the same on his side. They sat staring out the window. Chase still couldn’t get over the fact that Odelia would stubbornly insist they needed to go after this Ziv Riding character. The only thing the guy had done wrong—apart from running a sweatshop in this town—was drive the wrong car.

“I mean, you see that, right?” he asked for the umpteenth time. “It’s a Tesla! Everybody drives a Tesla these days. A buddy of mine is visiting Belgium and he said it’s full of Teslas over there. Frickin’ Belgium, for crying out loud!”

“Is Belgium even a country? I thought it was a city.”

“Pretty sure it’s a country, Chief. Beer, chocolate and waffles?”

“Oh, right.”

He lapsed into silence again.“And what about this cat business? There’s something going on with those cats of hers. Like she’s got some kind of intuition when it comes to Max. Is that even possible? Or normal?”

“Why not? It’s called women’s intuition, Chase. And Odelia loves her cats.”

“But cats are just a bunch of dumb animals. They can’t figure out that there’s a sweatshop in town. Or that there’s a black Tesla parked outside a restaurant. She’s hiding something, Chief. She’s got some secret informant and she won’t reveal her name. Yeah, it’s a she. She admittedthat much.”

“Odelia is a reporter, Chase. Working with informants is what she does. And you know how a reporter feels about protecting a source. It’s important.”

“I know that. I just…” He gave an annoyed grunt.

“You just hoped she would tell you all her secrets,” the Chief said with a grin.

“Well, yeah. I mean, why wouldn’t she? We work well together. She knows she can trust me. I won’t reveal her sources to anyone.”

“Just give her time, Chase. And don’t push her. The more you push her to give up her secrets the more she’s going to clamp up.”

“So what you’re saying is I should just let her harass this guy Ziv Riding?”

“He’s no boy scout. He did organize a sweatshop.”

“That doesn’t make him a killer.”

“No, it does not. It does make him a very bad man. Though it looks like he’ll walk away from this mess. Guy lawyered up big time.”

“Sure he did. He’ll pay a big-ass fine and he’ll go on making millions.”

“Oh, before I forget, the NYPD guy I talked to said they found a link between Niklaus Skad and Riding. Wanna hear about it?”

He jerked up, almost dropping out of his chair.“What?”

“Yeah. Funny thing is, I found the same email in Skad’s account.”

“And you’re only telling me this now?! Show me!”

“Hold your horses, cowboy. Now where is this darn thing…” He messed around on his computer, cursed a lot, and finally found it. “Here you go,” he said, swiveling the screen and stabbing at it with his finger. “Read it and weep.”

Chase scanned the email, then his eyes landed on the crucial paragraph.“I know about your dirty little secret and I’m not going to keep quiet unless you double your investment,” he read with rising surprise. “This is non-negotiable, Riding. You better do as I say or else.” Say what?

“Huh? Pretty explosive stuff.”

“Jeez…” he said, absolutely dumbfounded. “Oh, my God…”

“What?” Chief Alec asked with a chuckle. “Just proves these celebrities are all in bed together. All one big happy family, huh?”

His brain worked feverishly.“So Riding was an investor in Skad’s business. And somehow Skad had found out about the sweatshop and was threatening to expose it unless Riding doubled his investment.”

“Do you think that’s what he meant with ‘dirty little secret?’”

“What else could it be?”

They stared at one another.“We have our killer, Chase. He confessed.”

“What if Konrad isn’t the killer? What if Riding’s car really was parked outside the restaurant that night and he’s the killer? Wanting to shut Skad up before he blew the lid on this whole sweatshop affair?”

Chief Alec shook his head.“I’ve got a confession.”

“That wasn’t a confession, Alec. That was a nervous breakdown. The guy didn’t know what he was saying. He would have confessed to killing Kennedy or being Jack the Ripper.”

The Chief thought about this as he picked up something from his desk. It was a fortune cookie. He absentmindedly toyed with it, then crumbled it under his fingers, took out the little piece of paper and popped the cookie into his mouth, munching down.

Chase stared at him.“What’s that?”

“Huh? Oh, something the guys picked up at the sweatshop. They had bags and bags of the stuff.” He lobbed one at Chase and he deftly caught it. He studied the fortune cookie and something clicked inside his mind. There was a nicely designed logo printed on the cookie. A Z and an R. Ziv Riding. Probably PR swag. “Alec?”

“Mh?”

“Remember how the coroner found a fortune cookie in Niklaus Skad’s stomach?”

The Chief stopped munching, and then his eyes went wide.“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes.”

Odelia’s uncle drew his hands through his few remaining wisps of hair. “Oh, Jesus. I locked up the wrong guy, didn’t I?”

“And Odelia was right about Riding,” said Chase, nodding.

“I should have known,” said the Chief with a groan. “That damn niece of mine is always right!”

Chapter 30

We were finally on our way home. This whole business with Diego had brought home to me the fact that I needed a break. I’d been up all day, and I needed to lie down and get some shut-eye. And we were just passing by the General Store when Kingman called out, “Max! Hey, Max!”

“Ignore him,” I told Dooley. “I just want to go home and sleep.”

“Max! Dooley!”

“I can’t ignore him, Max,” Dooley said. “He might have something important to say.”

“He always has something important to say, but I need to get some sleep.”

“Max! Dooley! Yoo-hoo! Over here!”

“Just ignore him,” I said through gritted teeth.

But Dooley had already veered off course. I followed him with a tired moan.

“Max!” Kingman said. “Meet Norma.”

I stared at the small white cat splayed out next to Kingman. The name didn’t ring a bell. “Hi, Norma,” I said out of sheer politeness.

“She’s the cat I told you about,” Kingman continued cheerfully. “About the sweatshop? I heard they closed down that operation. Can you believe it? A sweatshop? In our town? What is this, the nineteenth century or something?”

I studied Norma with more interest this time.“So you were out at the sweatshop, huh?”

“I was,” said the cat in a melodious voice.

“That was really brave of you,” said Dooley.

“Hardly,” said Norma. “Humans never take any notice of cats. I could come and go as I pleased, even slip past the guards and walk right into that place.”

“So do you think this guy Ziv Riding was involved?” I asked.

“Oh, definitely,” said Norma. “He came out there at least once a month, to check up on production, and do some spot checks for quality control. I’d say he knew exactly what was going on out there.”

Now this was news. Kingman grinned excitedly.“I told you she’s the real deal, didn’t I, Max? Huh? You owe me, right? Big time. Am I right or am I right?”

“You’re right,” I said reluctantly. Owing Kingman wasn’t much fun. I needed to bring him a piece of gossip at least equal in size to the Ziv Riding sweatshop story, which was going to prove hard. Then suddenly I got an idea.

“Was Riding out there the night Niklaus Skad was killed?”

Norma displayed a hint of a smile.“If I tell you, what’s in it for me?”

Let me tell you, all cats are hustlers. There are no exceptions.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“I heard you can talk to your human, is that true?”

“Yeah, it’s true,” I said with a dark look at Kingman, who shrugged.

“So tell her to bring me chocolate. And not the cheap kind Kingman’s human carries. I want Swiss chocolate. The really expensive stuff.”

“I’ll get you your chocolate,” I told her. “But chocolate isn’t good for you.”

“Let me worry about that.”

“So? About Riding?”

“He was in town. He drove up to the farm in his black Tesla around ten o’clock. Wanted to make sure everything was running smoothly. I heard him talking to the guards. He said he had an appointment in town. Said he needed to get rid of a pesky problem and that he’d never been there.”

“Get rid of a pesky problem. Were those his actual words?” I asked.

She gave me a cool, lingering look from beneath her long lashes.“I never lie, Max. If you’d bother to get to know me you’d realize that.”

I gulped a little, and backed away slowly. The recent episode with Harriet and Diego was still fresh in my mind. I did not need female felines in my life right now.“Thanks, Norma,” I said. “Much appreciated.”

“Thanks, Norma!” said Dooley. “And we’d love to get to know you, wouldn’t we, Max?”

She gave Dooley an appraising look, then said,“No, thank you. I don’t date babies.”

“Oh, burn!” Kingman shouted as Dooley and I walked away. “You owe me, Max!”

“And don’t forget about the chocolate!” Norma added. “Swiss chocolate, Max! No cheap junk, you hear?!”

I held up my paw to show her I’d heard her loud and clear.

“What did she mean when she said she doesn’t date babies?” Dooley asked. “I’m not a baby. I’m just as old as you, Max. Should I have told her?”

“I thought you said you didn’t need the complications of a relationship?”

Dooley glanced over his shoulder.“Yeah, but she looks really nice. I guess I could make an exception for her.”

“Oh, Dooley,” I said.

Chapter 31

Odelia was on her way to the Gazette when a squad car waylaid her. The car jumped the curb and she bumped into the hood. What the… She was even more surprised when Chase called out from inside the car, “Get in! You were right!”

“Of course I was right,” she said as she got in. She slammed the door shut. “What was I right about, exactly?”

He gave her his best grin.“I owe you an apology, Odelia. First of all, you don’t have to feel obligated to reveal your sources to me. You’re a reporter. Your sources are sacred. I get that. Secondly, you were right about Riding. He and Skad were connected. Riding invested in Skad’s business, and threatened to revealthe sweatshop business if Riding didn’t increase his investment.”

“I knew it!” she said, pounding the dashboard with her fist. “So what now?”

“Now we’re going to talk to Riding. He’s staying at the Hampton Springs Hotel.”

He put the car in gear and it bounced off the curb.“Oh, wait!” she said.

He halted the car with a jerk and she opened the door to let Max and Dooley inside.

“God, not those cats again!” Chase said.

“They look tired,” she said. “They need a ride.”

Actually they didn’t look tired. They looked excited.

“Odelia! You were right!” Max cried. “Riding was in town the night Niklaus was killed. He even told one of the guards at the sweatshop that he needed to get rid of a pesky problem, and then he drove off. That was around ten o’clock.”

“Did he do it, Odelia?” asked Dooley. “Did he kill Skad?”

She couldn’t very well answer that with Chase in the car. One day she might tell him about the cats, but not now. Not when he was convinced she was working with some secret informant.

“She can’t talk with us in front of Chase, Dooley,” Max said.

“Why not? Chase is a nice guy. He’ll understand.”

“No, he won’t. He might be nice, but he’s also just a guy.”

“He’s not just a guy. He’s Odelia’s guy,” Dooley insisted stubbornly.

She smiled.“While you were finally realizing I’m always right, I had a word with my informant,” she said.

“Oh? And what did they say?”

“Riding was definitely involved with the sweatshop.”

“Yeah, he came out here all the time,” Max chimed in.

Chase grinned.“Your cats are talking again, Odelia. It’s so funny.”

“Don’t mind them,” she said. “The night Skad was killed, he was in town. And I’m sure the sweatshop workers and the guards will be able to confirm that.”

“I’ll talk to the NYPD officer in charge. He’ll be happy to hear it.”

Chase had switched on the police siren and the blinkers and they were roaring through town, moving at a healthy clip. It only took them ten minutes to arrive at the hotel and Chase swung his car into a parking spot reserved for VIPs, right next to a black Tesla.

“There’s something I haven’t told you yet,” Chase said as he cut the engine. “You know the best part?”

“No, what?”

He smiled.“Remember Abe found a fortune cookie in Skad’s stomach? Well, the sweatshop was full of the stuff. Bags and bags of them.” He popped a fortune cookie out of his pocket and handed it to her. “See how it says ZR?”

“Ziv Riding,” she said slowly, turning the cookie over in her hands. “But how did it get into the victim’s stomach?”

Chase shrugged.“Only thing I can think of is that Riding gave Niklaus the cookie and he ate it. And then Riding killed him.”

“But wouldn’t the cookie have been chewed to pieces? I thought Abe said the cookie was still intact?”

Chase frowned.“So?”

“So I think Riding shoved that cookie down Skad’s throat and choked him with it.”

Chase stared at her.“You have a devious mind, Odelia Poole. And you may just have solved our murder!”

“Odelia is brilliant,” Dooley said.

“Yeah, she is,” Max agreed.

They got out and walked to the hotel. Now the only thing they needed to do was make Ziv Riding confess. How difficult could that be?

They walked up to the lobby and Chase showed the clerk his badge and asked which room Ziv Riding was staying in. The hotel tapped a few keys.“Room five twenty-five. The Royal Suite. Mr. Riding always uses that suite when he’s in town.”

Odelia and Chase shared a look.“Can you check a date for me?” Chase asked, and gave him the date Niklaus Skad was murdered.

“No, he didn’t stay with us that night,” said the clerk.

“Thanks,” said Odelia. That would have been too easy.

“Do you know if Mr. Riding is in right now?” Chase asked.

“You’ll find Mr. Riding by the pool,” said the clerk.

They thanked him and walked through the lobby, through the restaurant and out to the pool, which was the heart of the hotel.

“We keep ending up here,” said Chase as they stepped onto the flagged patch that lined the pool.

“That’s him,” said Odelia, pointing. “Right there.”

Riding had just hoisted himself up out of the pool, water streaming from his sculpted body in rivulets, and was stroking the water from his hair. He walked over to a chaise lounge and stood basking in the sun. He looked like a man who hadn’t a care in the world. Or a man with great lawyers.

“Well?” asked Chase. “Let’s have a word with Mr. Riding, shall we?”

The fashion designer looked up when a shadow fell across his face.“You’re blocking my sun,” he said kindly. “Please remove yourselves.” Then he recognized Odelia. “Oh, it’s you again. I already told you to make an appointment with the PR department. I’ll gladly talk to the media but not without an appointment. I think I made that abundantly clear.”

Chase flashed him his badge.“Odelia may be a reporter, but she’s also a civilian consultant helping me work a case.”

The man stared at the badge.“And who are you?”

“My name is Kingsley. Chase Kingsley. Detective for the Hampton Cove Police Department.”

The designer rolled his eyes.“Oh, dear. Look, I told you people I had nothing to do with this abominable sweatshop business. And you can rest assured that heads will roll once I find out who did. I don’t condone this kind of thing.”

“We’re not here to talk about your sweatshop, Mr. Riding,” said Odelia.

“We’re here to talk about Niklaus Skad,” said Chase.

“Oh, for goodness’ sakes. I didn’t even know the man. I watched his crass show from time to time, but that’s as far as our association went.”

“So he didn’t send you an email threatening to reveal your ‘dirty little secret?’” Chase asked.

The designer pursed his lips.“You know what? I don’t think I’m going to talk to you at this moment, Detective. I seem to remember that everything I say can and will be used against me, so I’ll leave the pleasure of talking to you people to my lawyer, who’s more used to this sort of thing.”

“You have a right to an attorney,” Chase agreed.

“You sure do,” Odelia said. “And the first thing your attorney will tell you is that it wasn’t smart to drive that nice black Tesla of yours all the way up to Tucker’s Farm.”

“Or to park it right behindFry Me for an Oyster,” Chase added.

“Oh, yes. Your car was seen that night, Mr. Riding.”

“We even have a witness who overheard you telling one of your bodyguards you needed to get rid of a pesky problem in town.”

“And then there’s that fortune cookie, of course,” said Odelia.

“Did you know our coroner found that fortune cookie pretty much intact inside the victim’s stomach, Mr. Riding?” Chase asked.

“That’s impossible,” Riding snapped. “A stomach doesn’t stop working when a person dies. It keeps digesting.”

“No, it doesn’t,” said Odelia with a laugh. The guy might be a great designer, but he didn’t know much about death. Simply about causing it.

The man gulped.“You found one of my fortune cookies in Niklaus Skad’s stomach?”

“Yes, we did.”

“Now I wonder how that got there?” Odelia asked.

“Unless you shoved it down his throat until he choked, of course,” said Chase.

The man just sat there for a moment, looking out across the pool, his face devoid of expression. The sun hung low in the sky. The day was drawing to a close and the rays slanting across the pool surface shimmered and glittered brightly. Suddenly, Ziv Riding reared up from his chaise lounge and dashed away along the pool, his bare feet slapping on the paved floor. He was a quick bugger.

“Dammit,” Chase grumbled, before setting out in pursuit.

Odelia watched as the cop raced after their suspect. And just when the designer had cleared the pool area, suddenly something blocked his path.

“Hey!” he cried when his feet got entangled in two small, furry objects.

Max and Dooley, for it was them, risked life and limb, but the intervention served its purpose, for the designer was forced to change course. Chase made a grab at him, but missed and almost toppled into the pool. And then, out of nowhere, a large black Portuguese Water Dog leaped at Riding and they both smashed into the pool.

The dog came back up first, and easily paddled to the edge of the pool. Stacie Roebuck, who’d been reading a book by the pool, looked horrified.

“Puck! Come back here! Bad boy!”

But Odelia joined her and said,“No, he’s a good boy. A very brave, very good boy.” She winked at Stacie. “He just nailed his owner’s killer.”

Stacie stared at Ziv Riding, who came up, spluttering and splashing. When he saw that Chase was waiting for him, he kept paddling for a while.

“You can’t keep doing that forever, Mr. Riding!” Chase called out.

“Yes, I can!” the designer insisted. “And I want my lawyer! Get him out here! Right now! I’m not coming out without my lawyer!”

Chase sighed.“Suit yourself.” He then dove into the pool. There was some more splashing, but finally Chase managed to collar his suspect and tow him in. He dragged him out of the pool bellowing, “Ziv Riding, you’re under arrest for the murder of Niklaus Skad. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

Odelia picked up Max and Dooley.“My heroes,” she said softly.

“All we did was get in the way of a known killer,” said Max.

“Yeah, no big deal,” said Dooley.

“Puck is the real hero,” Max added.

“And so he is,” said Odelia.

They watched as a soaking wet Chase led an equally wet Ziv Riding to the hotel.

“So Mr. Riding killed Mr. Skad?” Stacie asked, just to be sure.

“Yes, he did. Your boss was threatening to expose Riding’s sweatshop operation, which would have ruined his reputation with his investors and his clients.”

“That little twerp killed my husband?” an irate voice interrupted Odelia. She saw that Cybil Truscott had gotten up from her chaise lounge. She hadn’t even noticed she was there.

“Yes, he did,” she acknowledged.

“Gah, and we just made dinner reservations,” said Cybil. “I guess I better cancel our date.”

“Unless you want to have dinner in prison, I suggest you do,” Odelia said.

She shook her head disgustedly.“Men. Either they die on you, or they go around killing other men. I think I’m going to become a lesbian. Less trouble.” She gave Stacie a lascivious glance. “Hey, gorgeous. Have we met?”

“I was your husband’s assistant,” said Stacie. “We’ve met several times. Not that you ever noticed me. And for your information, I’m not a lesbian.”

“Too bad. You’re pretty. Oh, well. I guess I’ll just stick to men. There must be someone out there who’s not a killer or about to die on me.” And she stalked off, the death of her husband clearly not affecting her very powerfully.

“I never liked that woman,” said Stacie.

“Me neither,” Odelia confessed.

“I guess she’ll inherit all of Niklaus’s fortune.”

Odelia smiled.“Didn’t anybody tell you? Shortly before he died, Niklaus changed his will. Apparently he hated Cybil so much he didn’t want to take any chances. So he left everything to Puck.”

Stacie goggled at her.“Puck? But he didn’t even like him.”

“I’m sure he didn’t. And I’m sure he was going to change his will again as soon as the divorce came through. But since he was killed before that happened…” She shrugged. “Puck is a very rich dog now.” She eyed Stacie seriously. “You did take the necessary steps to transfer ownership of Puck to you, right?”

“Yes, I did. Everything was arranged through the notary yesterday.”

“Good. Because I think Cybil might contest the will—and your claim.”

Niklaus Skad’s lawyer had revealed as much to Chief Alec when her uncle had interviewed him. Cybil still had no idea, and Odelia thought it was better it stayed that way until the will was officially read.

She watched as Stacie settled down at the edge of the pool and hugged a very wet Puck. At least something good had come out of this, she thought.

Then Puck shook himself, spraying water all over the place. Stacie laughed, and so did Odelia and most of the other guests. Except…

“Hey! Watch that stupid mutt!” Cybil screamed. “He’ll ruin my tan!”

Yep. Sometimes people got exactly what they deserved.

Epilogue

We were all enjoying a leisurely time in Marge and Tex’s backyard. There was good food on the menu, apparently, at least if I went by the cries of delight from Odelia and the grunts of appreciation from Uncle Alec and Chase. Us cats had gotten actual meat for a change, and Dooley had even gotten the chicken wings he’d been craving for. The murder case had been solved, Ziv Riding would spend a nice long stretch in prison, Odelia had postponed our yearly visit to the vet, and everybody was happy.

Well, almost everybody. Diego probably wasn’t happy. There was no way of knowing for sure, of course, as he hadn’t shown his face around these parts since his unfortunate run-in with Clarice. And Gran wasn’t too happy, either, as her beau Leo was still strutting his stuff with Jackie Canolli. But I wasn’t going to let her spoil the fun.

“So what about that Leo, huh?” Dooley asked, tucking into another bit of chicken. “Left my human broken-hearted. Maybe we should do something about him?”

“Like what? Put a horse’s head in his bed? Break his legs? Rough him up? We’re cats, Dooley. We don’t mess with humans.”

“Unless they mess with our humans,” said Dooley. “Like this guy Leo.”

We were out on the porch, tucking into our bowls. I darted a quick look at Harriet and Brutus, who were out near the tree next to the hedge, smooching.

“When are they ever going to get enough of each other?” I asked.

Dooley followed my gaze and shrugged.“It’s love, Max. It’s beautiful.”

I slowly turned to him.“It’s love, it’s beautiful? What happened to ‘Brutus is a monster for stealing Harriet away from me?’ I thought you loved Harriet.”

“I do love Harriet, but I’ve come to realize that if you truly love a cat, you need to be happy when they’re happy. You have to set them free to follow their hearts. And if Harriet’s heart leads her to Brutus, well, then that’s fine by me.”

I stared at him.“Who are you and what have you done to my friend?”

Dooley grinned.“I’m growing up, Max, what about that? Maybe one of these days I might even have a shot with Norma.”

“Oh, so that’s the deal. You like Norma now.”

“Well, she is pretty.”

“She sure is. She’s also high-maintenance.”

He frowned.“What’s high-maintenance, Max?”

“When a cat wants you to fetch her Swiss chocolates or else.”

“I’ll fetch her Swiss chocolates. I’ll fetch her all the Swiss chocolates she needs,” he said.

He had that dumb look in his eyes that goes along with being in love. Yeah, Dooley had it bad, I saw. So that’s why he was cool with Harriet and Brutus. He’d transferred his affections to another queen. Well, maybe it was for the best. At least he wouldn’t bother me with his endless moaning about Harriet.

“Don’t you think she has the most beautiful eyes, Max? Like rays of sunshine? Or, better yet, golden orbs that reflect the world’s early dawn?”

Oh, crap. This was even worse.

Harriet and Brutus walked up. Apparently you can’t live on love alone, for Brutus barked, “Where’s my meat? I thought we were getting meat? You two morons didn’t eat my meat, did you? Cause if you did, there’ll be hell to pay!”

“Here’s your meat,” I said, indicating Brutus’s bowl.

“Good,” he muttered. “I need meat. I’m a meat-eating cat.”

“I think we’ve established that,” I said.

He glanced up, a piece of raw liver between his teeth.“Giving me lip, Maxie? Better don’t give me any lip. I’m the one that got us this meat. Without me, there would be kibble on the menu. So better pay me some respect.”

I blinked.“Um, are you feeling all right, Brutus?”

“Course I’m feeling all right.” He grinned at Harriet, his bloodied teeth an awful sight. “I’m feeling on top of the world, ain’t that right, snuggle puss?”

“That’s right, my cuddle man.”

Then he dug in again.

I directed a worried look at Dooley, but he was still dreaming about Norma, his face displaying a moronic look. Well, even more moronic than usual.

I sidled up to Harriet.“Is Brutus all right? He seems… aggressive.”

“He’s just fine,” said Harriet, darting loved-up looks at her cat. “I told him that the reason I was so attracted to Diego was because he acted like a real cat. A butch cat, if you know what I mean. Not like you and Dooley, who are just a tad too sweet for my taste.” She sighed. “I lovea cat who’s tough and strong. A catly cat. And I think Brutus got the message loud and clear.”

I groaned.“You turned him back into a bully?”

“Not a bully,” she said with a look of reproach. “A catly cat.”

“What does that even mean?!”

Brutus looked up.“Hey! Don’t talk to my lady like that, Max. Show some respect.”

“Brutus, my friend,” I began.

He gave me the evil eye.“Don’t go getting all soft on me again, Max. We’re all catly cats together. There’s no reason to get mushy.” He directed a grin at Harriet. “Isn’t that right, sugar lips?”

“That’s absolutely right, my stud muffin,” she cooed.

Brutus took me aside, and whispered,“Just play along, Max! She likes me all butch and macho so butch and macho is what she gets. Capisce?”

“But I liked you better when you were, you know, normal!”

Brutus rolled his eyes.“Haven’t you ever been in love, Max?”

“Um, no?”

He punched my chest.“Fall in love, and then we’ll talk again. And now don’t cramp my style, buddy. I’m warning you. Don’t ruin this for me.”

“What are you two whispering about, Brutus?” Harriet asked.

“Just telling this chump what’s what, my queen.” Quieter, he hissed, “I like you, Max. I like you a lot, and I wanna thank you for what you did for me. But this is how it’s gonna be from now on, got me?” Then, louder again, “You little weasel! If you talk to me like that again, I’m kicking your big, hairy, orange butt!”

And then he stalked off, leaving me staring after him, floored.

Oh, great. Instead of a real bully, now I got the Actors Studio version.

Dooley wandered over.“Don’t you think Norma’s fur is the color of—”

“No, I don’t!” I interrupted him brutally. “And please don’t talk to me about that cat again. Ever!”

Dooley stared at me, rudely awakened from his roseate dream. And as I sat there, moping, suddenly Harriet stole over to me. She gave me a gentle shove.“Maxie,” she said in a sultry voice. “I never saw this side of you before. When did you become all dominant and butch?”

I stared at her.“Huh?”

She giggled, a low and seductive sound.“I like this new Max a lot better than the old one. How about we share a piece of chicken?”

This was just too much. After all this nonsense with Diego, and now Brutus, she wanted to steal my chicken? No way!“You’ve got your own damn piece of chicken,” I snapped. “I’m not sharing mine.”

“Ooh, Maxie,” she cooed. “My butchy Maxie!”

And then she threw herself into my paws and kissed me!

4.5. PURRFECT SANTA

Chapter 1

I’d actually been looking forward to sleeping in a little. Probably the cold and the darkness slowing down my metabolism or something. When the days get shorter and the nights longer I want to curl up in bed and sleep forever. Like badgers. Or is it bears? Unfortunately, I am neither. I am human and I own a cat, so no hibernation for me. I woke up when there was a loud crashing sound nearby, and when I opened my eyes I saw that Max, my red tomcat, and his buddy Dooley, my Gran’s ragamuffin, had managed to destroy my curtains. Tearing them down, curtain rod and all.

I groaned against the sudden light that hit my eyes.“Max! Dooley! Are you serious?”

“Sorry, Odelia,” said Dooley sheepishly. “We didn’t mean to destroy your curtains.”

“They’re not destroyed, Dooley,” said Max. “They’re just… temporarily displaced.”

I swung my feet from beneath the comforter and into my fuzzy pink rabbit slippers.“Oh, they’re destroyed,” I said, then yawned cavernously and stretched out.

I got up and walked over to the window to assess the damage. All in all, it wasn’t that bad. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed. I blinked at the world outside. A thick layer of snow had fallen overnight, covering the world in a blanket of white. The sun was out and lit up the snow like a field of diamonds. Ugh. Like a vampire, I shielded my eyes from the brightness, and wished I could go back to sleep.

“Can we go out and play, Odelia?” asked Dooley excitedly.

“Sure. But I have to warn you guys. It’s a lot colder than it looks.”

The two cats scrambled from the room and down the stairs. I decided to follow at a much more leisurely pace, and not before fixing my curtains. They weren’t actually ruined. The rod had tumbled down from its support. So I dragged up a chair and returned it to its original position.

Once downstairs, I started up the coffeemaker, took my favorite cup from the cupboard—the one that says ‘crazy cat lady’—and ambled over to the sliding glass door to look out. The cats had already made their way outside, and were gingerly testing out the snow. It was a cute sight. They carefully sunk their paws into the mass of white, then quickly extracted them again. No matter how many times they experienced snow, each time it seemed like the first time. Five minutes in, they were inside again, shaking off the snow.

“Too cold!” Dooley lamented.

“Too wet!” Max grumbled.

“I told you,” I said with a smile, and watched them hop onto the couch and promptly doze off. Cold and wet. Two things all cats seem to hate. I didn’t think I’d get them outside again this winter. Which was a pity, as my work as a reporter doesn’t stop just because temperatures drop. And my cats are my eyes and ears. They spot things that remain hidden to humans, and are my best sources of information. My name is Odelia Poole, by the way, and I’m not just a reporter at the Hampton Cove Gazette, but also a civilian consultant with the local police, helping them solve crime from time to time, something else my feline sleuths help me with.

I poured myself some coffee, gratefully curling my fingers around the cup, and took little sips.

Today I was working from home, so after hitting the shower I dressed in sweatpants and a raggedy fleece Garfield sweater, and plunked down at my computer. My editor, Dan Goory, wanted to publish an article on the new Christmas tree the town council put up in Town Square. The official unveiling of the tree was a disaster, with many townies expressing their horror and shock. The tree wasn’t so much a tree as much as a metal frame in the shape of a tree with a high-tech light show attached. The council called it the modernization of Christmas, and claimed it would put us on the map as a progressive and forward-thinking town. Most Hampton Covians thought it was just plain ugly, anda disgrace to our Christmas tradition. All in all, it had more or less ruined the festive season for many people, and Dan was one of the most vocal opponents of the monstrosity, as he called it.

I had only written the intro to my article when the doorbell rang. I ambled over to answer it. Max and Dooley had magically woken up and were eagerly waiting at the door before I got there.

I smiled. My cats simply adore our mailwoman, because Bambi always comes bearing cuddles and sometimes even gifts. She’s a cat person, just like me, and is crazy about Max and Dooley.

I opened the door and was surprised to find it wasn’t Bambi delivering the mail today but her husband Randi. I didn’t think too much of it. It was the holidays, after all, and Bambi was probably enjoying a day off. I grabbed the mail, said goodbye to Randi, and closed the door.

“Where’s Bambi?” asked Max.

“Mh?” I asked absentmindedly as I scanned the mail.

“Bambi,” he said. “That wasn’t Bambi. Where’s Bambi?”

“Of course she is,” I muttered and returned to my computer.

“Where’s Bambi?” Max asked again.

“Max, can you please be quiet?” I asked. “I have a ton of work and I need to focus.”

Cats. They can get really obsessed about stuff sometimes. Like when their favorite letter carrier suddenly doesn’t show up. In that respect they’re pretty much OCD. Five minutes later, they were meowing up a storm to be let out again, so I dragged myself from my seat, opened the glass door, and watched them strut off. Why I had a pet door installed in the kitchen I do not know, as they rarely seem to useit, preferring their human to play butler instead.

I returned to my desk, and put in a solid two hours of work on the Christmas tree piece.

Chapter 2

I decided to walk to the office, as the roads were a little tricky to navigate by car, and I don’t like driving in these conditions. And since the sun was out and the air was crisp and fresh, a little walk was exactly what the doctor ordered. Max and Dooley were nowhere to be seen, and neither were Harriet and Brutus, the cats that belong to Mom and Chase, my boyfriend the cop. I wasn’t worried. They were old and wise enough to take care of themselves, and not get into any trouble.

Twenty minutes later, I breezed into the offices of the Hampton Cove Gazette, and knocked at the door of Dan. The editor was in, though he did not look happy.

“Hey, Dan,” I said from the doorway. “I’ve finished the article on the new Christmas tree.” He was frowning at me, as if I’d just called him a bad name, so I frowned back. “Everything all right?”

Dan is a wizened old guy with an impressive white beard, wire-rimmed glasses, and eyes that always seem to smile. Except now. Now they looked positively menacing.“No, everything is not all right,” he grumbled. “In fact everything is horrible. Do you know what the council has just decided?”

“Um, to change the new Christmas tree for the old one?” One could only hope.

“No, they’ve decided that I won’t be their Santa any longer! Can you believe it?!”

Quite frankly I couldn’t. Dan, since he looks pretty much like Santa, has been Hampton Cove’s resident Santa for years. He’s the one that presides over the Santa Parade and rides on the biggest float, the one shaped like a sleigh, officiates the Christmas tree lighting, the opening of the holiday movies film festival at the Hampton Cove Movie Theatre, and graces dozens of other activities with his cheerful presence. Christmas in Hampton Cove isn’t really Christmas without Dan.

“But they can’t do that!” I cried, aghast.

“Well, they did,” he said, holding up a letter. “Two days before Christmas! They even made it official. Said that in light of my negative review of the new Christmas tree, my services as Santa are no longer required.”

“They fired you because you don’t like the new Christmas tree?”

“Yep.” He took off his glasses and settled back in his chair. “I called the Mayor and he told me that the council viewed last week’s editorial as a personal affront. Said that my negativity has swayed public opinion against the tree, and if only I’d toed the line, Hampton Cove would have accepted the tree just fine.” He spread his arms. “But how can I accept a tree that ugly? It’s hideous!!”

“So what are you going to do?”

“What can I do? They’re going in a different direction for the final few days.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning they’ve hired a different Santa to officiate the Christmas Eve Celebration.”

“Who? I frankly can’t imagine a better Santa than you, Dan.” And I meant it. Dan has been Santa since I was a little girl, and I just couldn’t imagine Christmas without him. I remembered how he used to come to Hampton Cove middle school, and dole out the presents, and how he would officiatethe Christmas celebration in the school’s cafeteria, with all the kids spending a few precious moments on his lap, telling him how good they’d been and giving him their Christmas wish list.

“Thanks, honey,” he said warmly. “You’re not the only one who seems to feel that way. Lots of people have called to tell me they think the council is wrong. But the politicians are not budging. They’ve already gone and hired some shmuck from New York. A department store Santa, no less.”

“A department store Santa?”

“Yeah, one of those guys that does the big department stores. You know the type. Young guy that tapes on a fake beard once a year and goes through the motions.” He thoughtfully rubbed his own beard, which wasn’t fake at all. “I think they’re going to regret it, Odelia. They can’t mess with Christmas traditions like this and get away with it.” He pointed a stubby finger in my direction. “I want you to find out who this new guy is. I want you to find out everything you can about him.”

“And then what? The council isn’t going to change their minds, Dan. You know how stubborn they can be.”

“Oh, of course I know. But once I expose this new Santa, they’ll have to change their minds.”

I shuffled a little worriedly.“Expose Santa?”

“Sure! Dig up the dirt on the guy. Show people what a fraud he is.”

“And what if he’s not?”

Dan’s face took on a mutinous expression. “He has to be. All of those guys are frauds, Odelia. There’s only one real Santa and that’s me.” He thumped his chest defiantly. “And once the council sees what a chump they hired, they’ll come crawling back to me—begging me to take the job.”

I shook my head.“I don’t know, Dan.”

“Well, I do,” he snapped. “Bring me this new Santa’s head, Odelia. I’ll crucify the imposter!”

They weren’t exactly the words a real Santa would employ, nor did they reflect the holiday spirit, but whenever Dan was in one of his moods, I knew better than to try and argue with him, so I simply accepted the assignment and breezed out of the office again. I had a Santa to find and not much time to do it. It was going to be Christmas in two days, and if Dan still wanted to be Santa, I’d have to move fast. Faster than Santa’s sleigh.

Chapter 3

My first port of call was Town Hall. If anyone could tell me who the new Santa was, it was the Council Manager or the Mayor or any of the councilpersons in charge of any of the departments. When I arrived there, the secretary at the front desk was my first hurdle. When I asked to speak to either the Mayor or the Council Manager, she said I needed to make an appointment first, as both men were exceedingly busy. Since I’d seen the Mayor shoveling snow from his driveway that morning, I knew he couldn’t possibly bethat busy.

“Besides,” said the woman, who was sporting a purple perm and patting it proudly, “it’s almost Christmas, Odelia. I think you better come back in the New Year. I’m sure the Mayor will be more than happy to see you then.”

“But I want to talk to him about Santa, so it has to be now.”

“Santa?” Her face lit up. “Oh, I just love our new Santa, don’t you?”

“You’ve seen the new Santa?”

“Well, only his picture, of course. He’s just wonderful, isn’t he? I think he’s going to prove a big improvement over that old curmudgeon—what’s his name?” She snapped her fingers.

I leveled a critical look at her.“Dan Goory? My boss?”

Her lips formed a perfect O as she realized who she was talking to.“Well, Dan isn’t theworst Santa we’ve ever had, of course,” she said quickly. “I just think he’s not exactly the face of the new. More the face of the old, wouldn’t you agree?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” I said. “I think Dan is the perfect Santa. Theultimate Santa. The one and only.”

“Well, you’re certainly entitled to your opinion, dear,” she said, her lips curling down in a look of disapproval. She was patting that purple perm again, making sure not a hair was out of place.

“So where can I find this new Santa?”

The secretary’s lips pressed together, and she made a sign of locking them with a key. And when she opened them again, it was to say, “We’ve been instructed not to talk to the press, dear. And you are the press, aren’t you?”

“You mean you’ve been instructed not to talk to Dan.”

“Him, too,” she admitted.

Just then, the Mayor emerged from an office further down the hall. The moment he caught sight of me, he made a beeline for the men’s room, moving at a surprisingly rapid pace. I intercepted him just before he managed to make his escape. “Mayor Moss,” I said. “Odelia Poole. You remember me. Is it true that you’ve decided to replace Dan Goory with a new Santa?”

“Yes,” he said, his eyes shifting uncomfortably between me and the secretary, who lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug. “Yes, that’s quite true. Look, Miss Poole, I’m not going to beat around the bush. We at the town council were all very disappointed when we read Dan’s editorial onthe unveiling of the new tree. Instead of fully endorsing the bold step the council took into a bright future, he seems to be stuck in a past where only a real tree can be considered a, well, a tree.”

“You have to admit the new tree is ugly, Mayor Moss.”

Gus Moss’s brows knitted into a disapproving frown, his round face reddening slightly. “It appears that Dan’s backward vision on Christmas trees has rubbed off on his staff. I would advise you to remove yourself from the toxic influence of Dan Goory, Miss Poole. Embrace the new and do away with the old once and for all.”

“I happen to like a regular Christmas tree,” I said with a shrug. “There’s nothing Christmassy about that cold steel contraption.”

“It’s modern,” he snapped. “And modern is good.”

“Nuclear war is modern. You don’t like nuclear war, do you?”

He eyed me as one might eye an annoying bug, indicating he actually liked nuclear war, as long as it didn’t happen in his town. “Look, the die has been cast and there’s nothing more I can do about it. Dan will just have to learn to live with the consequences of his erroneous decisions.”

“So who is the new Santa?”

He held up his hand.“No comment.”

“The people of Hampton Cove have a right to know.”

“The people of Hampton Cove will simply have to wait until the Christmas Eve Celebration. The new Santa will be revealed then.”

“Is it true he’s a department store Santa?”

“No comment.”

“What department store did he work at?”

He gritted his teeth.“No. Comment.”

Without another word, he stalked off. When I looked at the secretary, she beckoned me over, looked left and right, then held up a tiny scrap of paper. It read,‘Thornton Fifth Avenue.’ The moment I’d read it, she crumpled it up and… popped it into her mouth, then swallowed it! I flashed her a smile of gratitude for this brave act of defiance. She gave me a feeble smile. Paper doesn’t taste good.

On my way out, I bumped into Chase Kingsley, my cop boyfriend. He looked worried today, his handsome features contorted into a frown. His dark hair was covered with a stylish knit cap, and he’d raised the sheepskin collar of his biker jacket against the cold.

“Hey, Chase,” I said by way of greeting. “What’s up?”

“I’ve lost my grandpa,” he grumbled with a dark look at the secretary, as if she was to blame.

“You… lost your grandfather? How do you lose a grandfather?”

“I’ve been trying to reach him all week. I wanted to invite him over for Christmas, but he’s not answering his phone and he’s not responding to any of my messages.”

“So? Maybe his phone is broken. Or maybe he doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“I also asked one of my old buddies at the NYPD to drop by his apartment and he’s not answering the door either. He’s gone, Odelia. My grandfather is officially missing.” He shook his head. “I’ll have to go down there and look for him myself. Will you come with me?”

I stared at him.“You mean… come with you to New York to look for him?”

“You’re a natural at finding out stuff about people. And I could use the company.”

“Sure. But on one condition.”

He gave me a grin, pulled me in and placed a kiss on my lips. When he finally released me, my breath was coming in gasps.“Make that two conditions.”

“Okay.” He pulled me in again but I placed my hand on his chest.

“I have to find the new Santa. If you help me find him, I’ll help you find your grandfather.”

“Why? Is Santa missing, too?”

“The council fired Dan and hired a new Santa, and Dan is itching to dig up some dirt on the new guy so he can make the council change their minds.”

He studied me for a moment.“All right. We’ll find your Santa and we’ll find my granddad. But Granddad is our priority. I can’t imagine finding Santa is as urgent as finding an old man who may be in really big trouble right now.”

“Deal,” I said, and held out my hand.

Instead, he pulled me closer and kissed me again. I could get used to this.

Chapter 4

Chase drove while I relaxed in the passenger seat, wondering how to go about finding this illustrious Santa the council had hired. I looked up when Chase cleared his throat.“So what’s the big deal about this Santa business?” he asked.

“Dan’s been the Santa for so many years he was shocked when the council fired him. He’s grown attached to the role, I guess. And he’s a great Santa. Kids love him. Grownups love him. In fact the only people who don’t seem to care for him are the Mayor and his council. And that’s got nothing to do with Dan’s qualities as a Santa and everything to do with politics.”

He shook his head and grinned.“Small-town politics. You’ve got to love it.”

“It’s not just that. Dan is in a position of considerable influence, as the editor of the town’s only newspaper. Both parties have tried to make him endorse their candidates and he’s always refused. But instead of appreciating the fact that he prefers to remain neutral, they resent him for it. And this whole Santa business is their way of getting back at him.”

“All sounds pretty petty to me.”

“It is.” I turned to him. “What did you think about the new Christmas tree?”

He shrugged.“It’s a Christmas tree.”

“It’s not a tree. It’s a metal frame supporting a light installation. It looks like a reject from one of Lady Gaga’s shows.”

“And it just might be. But why do you care so much? It’s just a stupid Christmas tradition.”

“Why do you care so little? It’s Christmas. It’s important.”

“No, it’s not. It’s just a stupid holiday. A way for big business to shove a lot of stuff down our throats. It’s got nothing to do with tradition or what Christmas should really be about.”

“Which is?”

“Family,” he said with a shrug. “Togetherness. Celebrating with the people you love.”

“It’s about that and a lot more.”

“Look, I don’t care about this stupid tree, all right? All I care about is to be with you and your family.”

Touched as I was, I thought he’d forgotten about one important thing. “What about your family? Don’t you want to celebrate Christmas with them?”

He sighed.“It’s… a little complicated.”

“What about your mom? You still have your mom, right?”

He grimaced.“That’s the complicated part.”

“How so?”

“You’ll see. Oftentimes she doesn’t even know who I am. When I went to visit her last time she thought I was Johnny the milkman. She was rummaging around in her purse to come up with the nickel she thought she owed me.”

Now I saw why it was so important he found his grandfather. Since his dad had died, and his mom was in this state, the old man was probably a great support for him.

I placed my hand on his arm.“We’ll find your grandpa, Chase. And when we do we’ll invite him to spend Christmas with us.”

“Thanks,” he said, his voice a little husky. “I would like that.” He cleared his throat. “How are things with your cats?”

“My cats? My cats are fine. A little annoyed with all the snow, which is why they won’t be venturing outside anytime soon.”

“I thought I saw them as I came looking for you.”

“You saw them? Where?”

“Outside your dad’s office. They were just heading inside.”

“My dad’s office?” I remembered they’d been worried about Bambi not showing up that morning. Was it possible they were out looking for her? If they were, maybe it would do them some good. Being cooped up inside all winter wasn’t healthy. Especially for Max, who had a tendency to gain weight if he didn’t get his exercise.

“You know, I heard the weirdest rumor the other day.”

“Oh?”

“Someone told me that the Poole women could talk to their cats. It’s, like, a tradition.”

I tried to look as innocent as possible.“It’s the first I’ve heard of that tradition.”

He glanced over.“So it’s not true?”

“Of course it’s not true! Cats can’t talk. That’s just crazy.”

“That’s what I thought. People tell me the weirdest things. Do you think it’s because I’m new in town? That they think they can make a fool of me by trying to sell me this ridiculous gossip?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me, Chase. They must think you’re pretty gullible to believe a bunch of nonsense like that.”

“Yeah. I told him I wasn’t buying it, and he seemed offended.”

“Who told you this?”

“Some guy that came in this morning to file a complaint about a customer who refused to pay his bills. Wilbur Vickery. He runs the Vickery General Store.”

“I know Wilbur,” I said.

“He even told me that his own cat likes to chat with your cats, and that he’s pretty sure they exchange information, which makes its way into your articles. I told him you don’t need any cats to be the ace reporter that you are.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure thing, babe. Nobody is going to make a fool of me and accuse you of using a crew of feline sleuths.” He laughed. “Simply the idea!”

“Yeah,” I agreed as I swallowed away a lump of uneasiness. “Pretty ridiculous.”

“What pisses me off the most is that Wilbur would think I’d fall for that crap.”

“Yeah, he probably figures you’re pretty thick.”

“Which I’m not.”

“No way. You’re former NYPD. You’re the smartest cop in town.”

“Absolutely. Imagine I wouldn’t know you can talk to cats.”

“Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.”

I stared out the window, biting my lip. Damn that Wilbur Vickery. He must have had too much eggnog, spreading rumors like that. Most people in town knew about the Poole women’s abilities, but didn’t mention it to outsiders. I would have to have a little chat with Wilbur. Remind him to keep his mouth shut. The other option was for me to come clean to Chase. I glanced over at the cop, taking in the sweep of dark hair as it dangled across his brow, and the rigid set of his face. This was not a man who believed in fairytale stories about talking cats. This was a man who relied on reason and logic to solve his cases, not feline intuition. There was no way he was ever going to believe me.

Just like he hadn’t believed a word Wilbur Vickery had told him. And a good thing, too.

Chapter 5

Chase parked his car across the street from where his grandfather lived. It was an old apartment building in downtown Brooklyn. It had once been brown, but was now all blackened from years of decay and exposure to the elements and big city smog. An old dog lay on the steps to the front door of the building, which was ajar, and looked up when we approached. It opened its mouth to bark, and I saw it was missing several teeth. Its hide was mottled and he did not look healthy. I crouched down to tickle it behind the ears but Chase pulled me back up.

“Don’t. These dogs are riddled with all kinds of pests and diseases.”

“Poor creature,” I said. “Someone should take care of him. Or her.”

“Someone should take care of the people that live here, too, but nobody does.”

His face had taken on a grim expression and I could see why. If my grandfather lived in these squalid conditions I wouldn’t be too happy either.

“How old is your grandfather?” I asked as we headed inside.

“Old. Well into his eighties.”

“How come he’s not in a retirement home?”

“You know how much those cost? His pension will never stretch far enough. And neither,” he added when I opened my mouth to make a remark, “will my paycheck. The only option is that I take him home to live with me, but since I’m still shacking up with your uncle, that’s not possible either.”

“Have you had any luck finding your own place yet?”

“Not yet, but I’m working on it. You wouldn’t believe how expensive Hampton Cove is.”

“Oh, I believe it,” I said. And I could see that Chase would be hard set to afford a decent place on his policeman’s salary. My family had owned the houses we lived in for generations. At the current real estate prices, we probably wouldn’t be able to afford to live in Hampton Cove either.

We tried the elevator, but a sign said it was out of order. The hallway was as decrepit as the outside of the house had heralded, and so was the stairwell. An old wino was lounging on the bottom step. He was sucking from a liquor bottle and gazing up at us with rheumy eyes. Some local color.

We arrived on the third floor and Chase quickly found the door to his grandfather’s apartment. He rang the bell and pounded the door but to no avail. So he tried the door of his grandpa’s neighbor. A pensioner appeared after what seemed like ten minutes, and peered out through a crack in the door, the security chain well in place.

“Yes? What do you want?”

“Hampton Cove Police Department, sir,” said Chase. “Detective Chase Kingsley. I’m looking for my grandfather—your next-door neighbor. By any chance have you seen him?”

The frown on the man’s face turned into a smile. “Detective Kingsley. I recognize you. You used to come and visit your grandpa a lot, right?”

“I used to,” Chase admitted. “I moved to Long Island this summer and haven’t had a chance to visit him as much as before. Do you know where he is? I’ve tried calling but he never picks up.”

“I have no idea, Detective.” The man unhooked the chain and opened the door. He was short and squat, and dressed in a bathrobe and slippers. The smell of cigars wafted from the room and my throat clogged for a moment at the acrid scent. “All I know is that he had some sort of argument a couple days ago. It was so loud I could hear it over the sound ofCriminal Minds. Almost made me miss the big finale.”

“Who was it? Did you see?”

“When I looked out, the argument was over. All I could see was some guy walking off.”

“What did he look like?”

“Well-dressed guy. Youngish. Nice clean suit. Not the kind you see around here, I have to say. He looked more like a banker than a drug dealer. Unless he was a drug-dealing banker, of course. I’ll bet there’s more of them than you might imagine! Heh heh!” The man laughed a croaky laugh thatwas infectious and I had to smile.

“So you never saw this guy before?” asked Chase, not even cracking a smile.

“Nope. Never saw him before and haven’t seen him since.”

“What did they argue about?”

“Money, I think. Your grandpa seemed to think the guy owed him and the guy didn’t agree. But that’s all I got.”

“And you haven’t seen my grandfather since?”

“Nope.”

Chase rubbed his chin.“To your knowledge… was he involved in anything suspicious?”

The man’s bushy brows shot up. “You mean like drugs? No way. In fact I think me and him were the final few on this block who were clean. Apart from my cigar. Heh heh. But as far as I know smoking a cigar is still not illegal, no matter what those damn busybodies over at the Health Department might claim! Cigars are good for you, son, and don’t let anybody tell you different!”

“Sure they are,” said Chase, clapping a hand on the old-timer’s shoulder. “Thanks, buddy. And if you happen to see my granddad, tell him Chase is looking for him.”

“Will do, son! And if you see him first, tell him to bring me more of those Cohibas. I have no idea where he got them, but they’re damn fine cigars, and at the rate I’m going, I’m almost out!”

Chapter 6

We left the building feeling a little conflicted. Chase wanted to bust down the door to his grandfather’s apartment and look for his dead body, which by now he was sure the well-dressed man had left inside. I told him there was no reason to assume something bad had happened to his grandfather. Maybe the well-dressed man was a representative from the Publishers Clearing House and Grandpa hit the jackpot and was now sipping a pi?a colada under some palm tree somewhere.

“Then why was he arguing with this well-dressed man?”

“Maybe he was trying to increase the payout? You have no idea who that well-dressed man is, Chase, but I think it’s safe to say he wasn’t some hitman working for the Brooklyn mob!”

“I just want to take a look,” he said, glancing up at the building.

The dog produced a loud whine. He wanted to take a look, too. And a bite to eat.

“You’re a cop, Chase. You know as well as I do you just can’t go breaking down doors. You’ll get in trouble if you do.”

“I could get a warrant.”

“You’re not NYPD anymore. You won’t get a warrant. What you need to do is talk to that NYPD buddy of yours and maybe he can take a look.”

“She.” He produced a sigh. “All right. I’ll give her a call. Maybe this cigar-puffing neighbor can even provide a description to a sketch artist and we can find this mysterious well-dressed man.”

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for whatever happened to your grandpa.”

He gave me a skeptical look.“Like winning the Publishers Clearing House.”

I shrugged.“Hey, it’s Christmas. It’s the season for miracles.”

He smiled for the first time.“You’re funny. And I can’t wait for you to meet my grandpa.”

“What are you going to tell him?”

He placed his arm around my shoulder.“That he’s in luck, for he’s about to meet the nicest, sweetest, prettiest girl in all of Hampton Cove.”

“Only Hampton Cove?”

“All right. In all of New York State.”

I cocked my head at him.

“In the entire country! There. Are you happy now?”

“I’m getting there.”

We walked to Chase’s car, and I spotted a Santa walking down the sidewalk, swinging a big bell with one hand, hoisting his prosthetic belly with his other. He looked a little seedy, the red of his costume more a dirty copper, and his beard tied up with string. He reminded me of something, though. We weren’t justhere to find Chase’s grandfather, but also to find Hampton Cove’s new Santa.

I turned to Chase.“We have to go down to Thornton Fifth Avenue.”

“Why? You want to put in some last-minute Christmas shopping?”

“No, that’s where the new Hampton Cove Santa used to work.”

He nodded.“Get in. There’s nothing more we can do here anyway.”

The seedy Santa had drawn even with us, and the reek of alcohol came off him in waves. Ugh. Not what I needed to get me into the holiday spirit.“Ho ho ho!” he hollered. “Who’s the pretty lady?”

“I’m good, buddy,” I said, trying to get away from him. He grabbed my arm.

“Have you been naughty or nice?”

“Both.”

He gave me a leering grin.“Wanna get naughty with me?”

“No, I do not.”

His grin faded.“Give Santa a kiss.”

“I’d rather kiss that dog’s butt.”

But he was already puckering his lips and closing his eyes. I tried to push him away but his grip on my arm was pretty firm for someone as drunk as he was. Luckily help arrived in the form of Chase.“The lady said she’s not interested, buddy,” he said, and disentangled me from Seedy Santa.

The guy opened his eyes, his lips still puckered.“Hey, what happened to the pretty lady?”

“She turned into pretty old me,” Chase growled, getting into the guy’s face. “Now buzz off.”

Seedy Santa stared at Chase, a look of confusion on his face.“Weird things are happening,” he muttered, then staggered off. “Dames turning into dudes. Must be a Christmas miracle.”

Yeah, that was probably it.“Thanks for saving me from Santa,” I told Chase.

“If that was Santa, I’m Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” said Chase.

“No, you’re not. You’re my hero, that’s what you are. My dashing knight in shining armor.”

He grinned.“I like that.”

We got into the car and Chase drove off in the direction of Midtown Manhattan. Traffic was heavy, as was to be expected, though the streets were all pretty much snow-free. Cars were honking, and we moved along at a snail’s pace each time we got to an intersection. Chase still managed to make good time, proving he knew his way around Manhattan. He navigated some of the back streets and side streets until we suddenly arrived on Fifth Avenue and at Thornton’s, the well-known department store. He ducked into a parking garage, managed to ditch the car and we got out.

The window displays of Thornton’s depicted the nativity scene and various other Christmas-themed representations. They looked really neat, and kids stood with their noses pressed up against the glass, their parents resisting the urge to do the same. Tourists snapped pictures and when I saw that one window display featured a very realistic Santa and his elves, I knew this was the place to be.

Rockefeller Center was just around the corner, with its huge Christmas tree and its ice skating rink, so I said,“Maybe we can go ice skating after this.”

“Maybe we can find my grandpa first,” he retorted.

“Right.” I kept forgetting we were here on a mission, and not to take in the sights.

“We can go ice skating in Hampton Cove when we get back,” he offered when he saw my disappointment. “It’s not the same as Rockefeller Center but it’s pretty neat all the same.”

“Deal,” I said, and we walked into the store.

Inside, the Christmas decorations were even more pronounced than outside, and so were the crowds. We muscled our way through the milling throngs, and finally arrived at the Christmas village that had been set up in the toy section. A long line of kids stood waiting for a chance to say hi to Santa, who looked pretty juvenile, even with his white beard. I wondered if the kids were fooled.

A handsome woman with long dark hair stood watching nearby, dressed in the Thornton uniform of black slacks, white shirt and green vest, and I approached her.“Excuse me, Miss, but I’m looking for one of your previous Santas.” I showed her my press pass. “Hampton Cove Gazette. Our new Santa is rumored to be your old one. What can you tell me about him?”

She smiled.“Not much, I’m afraid. I haven’t been here all that long myself. All I know is that the previous Santa was let go because he was too old. Management wanted to hire a younger Santa this year, so they went with this one.”

We both stared at the new Santa, who was so young he should be the one dandling on Santa’s knee. “Isn’t he… a little too young?”

“He is pretty young,” the woman admitted. “But so far he’s doing a great job.”

Just then, the kid sitting on Santa’s knee slapped his face. “I want Iron Man! Not stupid Santa!”

“Well, you’re gonna get Santa, you snot-nosed little—” Then he caught sight of the parents watching on from the sidelines and he quickly corrected himself, lowering his voice to the Santa timbre. “Ho ho ho. Aren’t you a feisty one?”

The kid jumped from Santa’s lap and kicked his shin. “I wantIron Man!”

Santa winced.“And you will get Iron Man, unless you’re naughty.”

“I’m not naughty. I’m nice! I’m always nice! Everybody says so!”

Santa, having had enough, said in his regular voice,“I saw Iron Man on the second floor, buddy.”

The kid’s face lit up. “For real?”

“Sure. Now run along. He’s waiting for you.”

“Yay!”

“Go get him, tiger.”

The kid’s mother shook her head disgustedly and stalked off, her kid prancing happily by her side. “Mommy! Iron Man is on the second floor. Can we go—pleaaaaaaaase!”

“He lacks experience,” the woman said, after witnessing the scene. “But he’ll grow into it.”

“The previous Santa—the one that grew out of it—what was his name?”

She frowned.“Um… Kris something. I think.”

I crooked an eyebrow.“Kris Kringle.”

She pointed a finger at me.“That’s it. Kris Kringle.”

“Are you sure?”

She shrugged, losing interest.“Pretty much.”

Yeah, right.

“And? How did it go?” asked Chase as we left the department store.

“The name of Hampton Cove’s new Santa is Kris Kringle.”

He frowned.“Now why does that sound familiar?”

“You never sawMiracle on 34th Street?”

“Is that the new Leonardo DiCaprio? No, wait. You’re more a Tom Hanks fan, right?”

I hooked my arm through his.“You’ve got a lot to learn about Christmas, Mr. Scrooge.”

Chapter 7

Our next stop on this impromptu tour of New York was the soup kitchen where Chase’s grandpa volunteered. The charity was located in an old church on Ninth Avenue, and when we arrived, there was a long line outside, waiting to get in and be served. The Holy Emergency Soup Kitchen was one of the largest in the city, and made sure over a thousand people a day got a good meal in them. We entered the building and I was surprised to see round tables set up inside the church building itself, right where I would have expected rows of pews, parishioners kneeling to catch a sermon. Instead, hundreds of people sat eating quietly, a piano player tickling the ivories.

“This is amazing,” I said.

“Yeah, it is. And this isn’t the only soup kitchen in the city either. There are dozens.”

“The needs are certainly a lot greater than in Hampton Cove.”

“A lot of homeless and hungry people in the city. It’s a good thing these charities exist.”

“And these volunteers.”

I watched as dozens of volunteers moved around, replenishing drinks in plastic cups and manning the long line where food was served. The line ran very smoothly, and it was obvious the people taking their trays were grateful for this service.

“For many of them this is their only meal of the day,” said Chase.

I watched as a mother with two kids sat at one of the tables, the kids happily biting into thick slices of brown bread and ladling up their soup.“But they’re so young,” I said, choking up a little.

“Tough times,” Chase said softly, also clearly touched. “I actually used to volunteer here myself, along with my grandpa. He’s the one that got me involved. It’s a very special feeling to be able to help others. Grandpa taught me that lesson, and it’s one I’ll never forget.”

We walked up to the person in charge, a heavyset woman with a can-do, no-nonsense attitude who oversaw the whole setup. When she caught sight of Chase, the frown on her face instantly lifted and was replaced by a smile.“Chase Kingsley as I live and breathe. Where have you been, Detective?”

“I got transplanted to The Hamptons,” he said with a smile that matched hers in brightness.

She raised her eyebrows.“The Hamptons, huh? A lot of soup kitchens there, I imagine?”

“Not really,” he admitted.

“Well, I sure hope the powers that be had a reason for taking you away from us.”

Chase cut a quick glance to me.“I’m sure they did, Macey. So how have you been?”

“Busy, as you can see,” she said, gesturing around. “The lines keep increasing every day, Detective. It’s as if the world just keeps on getting a little poorer with each passing year.”

“At least the world has you to make sure these people are fed,” said Chase.

“Well, that’s for damn sure.”

I raised an eyebrow of my own. And here I always thought cussing in church was a big no-no. Obviously things were different here in the big city.

“And who is this?” asked Macey, directing a curious eye at me.

“This is Odelia Poole. We work together in Hampton Cove. She’s a civilian consultant.”

“Oh, is that what you kids call it these days?”

Chase had the good decency to blush, then cleared his throat.“What can you tell us about my grandpa, Macey? I’ve been trying to locate him but he seems to have vanished from the face of the earth.”

“Your grandpa, huh? Well, to be honest, I haven’t seen him in days. I think he came in last week, but he hasn’t been in since.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“Nope. I just figured he was busy doing other stuff and he’d be back.”

“Did he… look different?”

Macey frowned.“Well, now that you mention it, he did seem pretty downcast last time I saw him. He wasn’t his usual cheerful self. Well, you know your grandfather. Always a joke and a kind word. But that last time he was here he was unusually quiet. He also left pretty quick. Didn’t stay to help with the cleanup like he usually does.” Her face had taken on a worried expression. “Do you think something happened to him?”

“I don’t know, Macey, but I’m starting to think something might have.” He told her about the well-dressed man his grandpa was seen arguing with, and the fact that he didn’t respond to his messages.

“Oh, dear,” said Macey, raising a hand to her cheek. “I do hope you find him, Chase. And that you find him just fine. He’s such a wonderful man, and he’s done so much for this community. I would hate for him to be in trouble and not reaching out when he needs help himself.”

“Yeah, that would be just like Granddad.”

Macey nodded, and fixed Chase with a keen look.“Sounds like someone else I know.”

When we were walking back to the car, I asked,“What did Macey mean by that?”

He shrugged.“Beats me.”

“She sounded like she was talking about you. Have you ever been in trouble and refused to reach out and ask for help?”

“That may have been me,” he admitted. “But that was before I met a certain stubborn female, who, in spite of my obvious refusal to ask for help, insisted on offering it anyway.”

I smiled at that. When we first met, Chase had been a different person. Obstinate, surly, standoffish and generally insistent on doing everything his own way without any help from anyone, least of all some nosy reporter like me. How much things had changed since then.

“Sounds like this move to Hampton Cove has done you some good.”

“Yes, it has,” he admitted, and placed an arm around my shoulder. And as we passed another Santa, this one not inebriated but also armed with a very large bell and happy to use it, I was starting to think this little field trip to New York might offer a glimpse at a side of Chase I didn’t know. A chance to get to know the burly cop just a little bit better.

Chapter 8

The police station where Chase took us next was exactly the way I’d imagined it: a bustling hubbub of noise and activity, where police officers worked at their desks while others interviewed civilians as they came in to file complaints, testify to crimes witnessed, or generally tried to make sure that wrongs were righted by New York’s finest. I could just imagine Chase in action, and the moment we entered, it was obvious he was in his element, as he waved greetings at various former colleagues, and bumped fists with uniformed officers and received hugs from more than a few of them. It was as if the long-lost son had finally returned home, and they were all happy to see him.

They also darted curious glances at me, probably wondering if I was one of them, or, more likely, a suspect Chase had dragged in here to be processed and locked up.

I followed Chase to a desk at the end of the large space, and a woman looked up from her computer.“Kingsley! Imagine seeing you here!”

“Hey, Borrell. Long time no see, huh?”

The woman rose from behind her desk and enveloped Chase in a warm hug. She was a slim and pretty young woman, with olive skin and pitch-black braided hair. She was also busty, or at least a lot more busty than me, and I had to admit to experiencing a pang of jealousy as I watched the two former colleagues exchange an obviously heartfelt embrace. Former colleagues or… former lovers?

The woman’s dark brown eyes turned to me, and she asked, “Is this my replacement?”

They ended their embrace and Chase said,“This is Odelia Poole. She’s a reporter and civilian consultant. Odelia, meet Sally Borrell. My partner back when I was with the NYPD.”

“A reporter, huh? I seem to remember you hated reporters. Called them scum of the earth.”

“Not scum of the earth, exactly,” said Chase with a smile.

“Oh, no, that’s right. You called them spume. That dirty foamy stuff that floats on top of the waves. The stuff that makes you afraid to go into the water and get all dirty and yucky.”

“Yeah, I might have been talking about a different kind of reporter,” Chase said. “The kind that works for one of the tabloids, not the Hampton Cove Gazette, which is a reputable paper.”

“So you’re the exception to the rule, huh?” asked Sally, folding her arms across her chest. “The small-town reporter who managed to turn Chase Kingsley’s head.”

“For your information,” I said, also crossing my arms, “I didn’t turn anyone’s head.”

“Yeah, she’s not the reason I got canned, Sally,” said Chase. “The opposite, actually. Odelia got that bogus charge against me dropped. If not for her, I would have been suspended from Hampton Cove PD as well, and might now be working private security in Poughkeepsie or something.”

“Huh. Is that a fact?”

Sally narrowed her eyes at me, so I did the same to her. And we would have stood there indefinitely, scowling at each other for no good reason other than that the woman seemed to have developed an instant dislike to me and me to her, if Chase hadn’t gotten between us and said, “Look, I’m looking for my grandpa. He’s gone missing and I could use some help finding him.”

Sally, after giving me one final disdainful look, finally relented.“So you want to file a missing person report?”

“I think that might be best. After you went round to his apartment, I did the same thing.”

Sally sat down and directed a worried look at Chase.“And?”

“Nothing. A neighbor said he saw Grandpa engaged in a verbal altercation with some guy, and that’s the last he ever saw of him.”

I studied Sally. So she was Chase’s former partner. She was obviously very protective of him. And as Chase supplied her with all the information about his grandfather, I glanced around. And that’s when I noticed that all eyes in the room were fixed on the three of us. The minor squabble between me and Sally had apparently beena lot louder and had attracted a lot more attention than I thought. The moment I looked around, they all looked away, and the hush that had descended upon the station was lifted as conversations resumed and the hum of activity returned in full force.

Finally, Sally had entered everything into the computer and she turned to me.“Look, I’m sorry, all right? I guess I got a little carried away just now.”

“That’s all right,” I said. “You guys must miss Chase a lot. He’s a great detective.”

“Yeah, we do miss him a lot. It just wasn’t fair the way he was set up like that. The Commissioner and the Mayor conspiring against him—it was a terrible thing they did.”

“Wait, you knew about that?” asked Chase, surprised.

“Sure. Who didn’t? Word gets around, especially since the Commissioner and Mayor Putin’s wife ended their affair and the Putins are getting a divorce. It’s all out in the open now, Chase.”

Chase had had the misfortune of walking in on Commissioner Montague and Malka Putin, prompting them to fabricate a complaint that got him suspended. Everything had been settled, and Chase had even been offered his old job back, but he’d decided he liked Hampton Cove a lot better than New York City. A lot less hassle. At least that was what he’d told the Commissioner.

“You could always come back, you know? We need you here, Kingsley.”

Chase smiled.“I’m fine with Hampton Cove. The atmosphere, the people, the peace and quiet. It just feels right, you know. Somehow this whole affair has been a blessing in disguise for me.”

Sally cast a dark look at me.“The people, huh? We’ve got people here in New York, too, you know. A lot of great people—people who appreciate you plenty.”

I rolled my eyes. This woman was just too much.

“Thanks, Sally,” said Chase, pressing her hand warmly. “But I feel like I’m just where I’m supposed to be.”

“Great,” she said acerbically. “I hope she’ll make you happy.”

“Who?” he asked, confused.

“Miss Spume here! Who else?”

“Hey!” I called out. “You take that back.”

“I’m not taking anything back! You deprived this department of a great detective.”

“I did no such thing!”

“You’re the reason he’s out there in the middle of nowhere, protecting rich fat cats from other rich fat cats! While he should be right here, helping us solve real murders of real people.”

“Heis solving real murders of real people.”

“Admit it, honey. He’s just a glorified bodyguard these days.”

“I’m not a glorified bodyguard, Sally,” said Chase with a laugh.

She turned on him.“Yes, you are. Don’t think I haven’t followed your career. The only crime you’ve got out there are a bunch of celebrities getting whacked.” She threw up her arms. “Who cares about celebrities being whacked? Nobody!”

“They’re also people,” Chase said.

“Yeah, celebrities are also people,” I added. “And for your information, we don’t just have celebrities out in Hampton Cove. We have regular people too. People who deserve good police work.”

“Oh, you’re just too much,” said Sally, sitting down again.

“Sally, I…” Chase began.

“Go away, Kingsley. You and Miss Spume deserve each other. In fact you’re made for each other, anyone can see that.”

“We’re not even a couple!” I cried.

“We’re not?” asked Chase, confused. “I thought we were.”

I glanced up at him.“We are?”

“Of course we are. You’re my girlfriend. I’m your boyfriend. We’re a couple.”

“Well, if you put it that way…”

“Can you just go away?” asked Sally. “You make me sick, the both of you.”

“It’s just that, we go on dates, and we kiss and stuff, but you never said anything about us being a couple,” I told Chase, ignoring Sally.

“I thought that was a given,” said Chase. “Since we do go out on dates, and we do kiss a lot. And that’s exactly what couples do, right?”

“I guess so.”

“Get out of here!” Sally cried. “Go back to Hampton Cove to date and kiss!”

“I think we’ll do just that,” I said, lifting my chin.

“But first we have to find my grandfather,” said Chase.

“And my Santa,” I added.

“Right.”

“Out of my sight!” Sally yelled. “Get out.”

So that’s what we did. Stared after by the entire precinct. Then, as we walked out the door, they all cheered. Looks like they didn’t agree with Sally, and did not consider me spume. Besides, spume wasn’t always dirty. Spume could be nice and fluffy and pink, just like me. Maybe I was going to adoptthis name and wear it proudly from now on. Odelia ‘Spume’ Poole. It had a nice ring to it. Or Odelia ‘Spume’ Kingsley. An even nicer ring.

Chapter 9

After some calling around, I finally managed to find out the name of a former manager at Thornton Fifth Avenue. If anyone knew the identity of Hampton Cove’s new Santa, it would be him. We caught up with the guy at Fun ’n Frolic, a modest toy store located on Amsterdam Avenue. Just like at Thornton’s, a Santa sat entertaining a bunch of kids. But the setup was a lot less exuberant than at Thornton’s, and Santa looked like an out-of-work actormaking a dime, which he probably was.

Orrick McCastle was a man in his late sixties, with short, curly white hair, a small white mustache, and reverent bearing. In a previous life, he must have been a priest, for he carried himself like one and spoke in the same hushed tones.“Greetings,” he said when we approached him. “How may I be of assistance?” He was keeping an eye on a gaggle of kids messing around the ball pit.

“We’re actually looking for the new Hampton Cove Santa,” I announced, deciding to skip the usual preliminaries and get to the heart of the matter straightaway.

“Ah,” he said, studying me closely. “I’m afraid there I cannot help you. You see, I’m not familiar with that particular brand. If you seek the new Fisher-Price Santa, or the new Lego Santa, I’m more than happy to help, but the new Hampton Cove Santa? He will always remain a mystery to me.”

“Hampton Cove is not a brand,” I said.

“Which might explain why it is unfamiliar to me.”

“It’s a town located between Hampton Bays and Happy Bays, on Long Island’s South Fork.”

His eyebrows rose precipitously.“A town. And you’re looking for its Santa?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Once again, I must bow out respectfully. You see, I am not in the business of providing Santas, at least not the human kind. If it is a toy Santa you seek, let me guide you to our toy Santa section. As you can imagine, we have a large offering, especially at this time of year.”

“No, you don’t understand.”

“I don’t?”

“You see, the Santa I’m looking for used to work at Thornton Fifth Avenue. He was fired from that store and hired by the Hampton Cove council. I work for the Hampton Cove Gazette and my editor wants me to do a piece on this new Santa, but the council is adamant to keep him under wraps until theofficial Christmas Eve Celebration.”

“And you, being the intrepid reporter, cannot wait that long. I now see all.” He placed a thoughtful finger to his lips, a frown marring his noble brow. “It is true that I used to be employed by Thornton Fifth Avenue until very recently, when I was summarily dismissed, my services no longer required. And it is also true that for many years, we employed the same man as our store Santa.”

“But…”

“Thornton Fifth Avenue is a rather large establishment, with a vast staff of people.”

My shoulders slumped a little.“You don’t remember the name of your Santa?”

“Well, I remember his first name. You see, I pride myself on being on a first-name basis with all of my people, even the seasonal ones like Santa. His name was Kris—or at least that’s the name he provided—it’s not inconceivable he used an alias, as he was a humble and very private individual.”

“Kris?” I asked dubiously. “As in Kris Kringle?”

“Which is exactly why I have my doubts as to the veracity of the name of this individual.”

“Why was this Kris fired, exactly?”

“The same reason I was fired, my dear young lady. Age. The Thornton family, in all its wisdom, decided I was too old to function in a managerial role, a position I held for forty years, and deemed it necessary to replace me with a younger specimen, straight out of business school, and loaded up with all the exciting new wisdom his expensive education no doubt has instilled in him. To give you but one example of this wisdom he immediately replaced the old Santa with a new Santa, because that is what you do when you’re young and dynamic: out with the old and in with the new.”

“You sound a little…”

“Bitter? Oh, not at all. In fact I’m very grateful that Jurgen—that’s the new manager’s name—Jurgen Winklevoss—was chosen to replace me. I’m sure that for the next forty years he’ll succeed in running into the ground the very establishment it took me forty years to put on the map.” He gave me a radiant smile. “Now if I might make a suggestion as to your Hampton Cove Santa—be happy.”

“Be happy?”

“Yes, be very happy, for your village—”

“Town. We’re actually an actual town.”

“Even better! Your town has just acquired the very best Santa New York has to offer, even if he is a little long in the tooth, at least according to Jurgen Winklevoss. Our loss is your gain, Miss…”

“Poole. Odelia Poole. And this is Detective Chase Kingsley.”

“Oh, you have employed an actual detective to track down Santa, eh? Leave no stone unturned and all that. Well done, Miss Poole. Bully for you. I’m sure you’ll find your Santa, and when you do, give him my warmest regards.” The Santa that was gracing his own store had just allowed his beardto be ripped off by a little girl and Mr. McCastle regarded him disdainfully. “At any rate Kris was a much better Santa than this pimpled teenager whose face has never even seen a razor blade. Mike, put that beard back on this instant! Put. The. Beard. Back. On. Right now!”

We decided to leave Mr. McCastle to his work. He looked like he was a pretty busy man. And as we left, he was just trying to restore Santa’s beard with sticky tape, drawing shocked stares from a dozen boys and girls and their parents. They were going to have a lot of explaining to do.

Chapter 10

Chase decided to pay a quick visit to his mother, in case his grandfather might have dropped by. Not that he was likely to, as Martha was not his daughter. Still, they’d always shared a great connection, even after Chase’s dad died, so maybe he’d turned to her for help in his hour of need.

“So you really think your grandfather is in trouble, huh?” I asked as we walked from the car to the brownstone where his mom lived with her sister.

“There’s no other explanation for all this secrecy. The only reason he wouldn’t confide in me would be that he’s in some kind of deep hole he feels ashamed to tell me about.”

“But what could it be? Drugs? Alcohol? Gambling debts? What?”

“I have no idea. As far as I know Grandpa was always one for clean living, and tried to steer clear of any kind of vice. Though apparently he was not above selling cigars to his neighbors.”

“Not exactly a great crime.”

“No, but what if that’s only part of the story? What if he got involved with some shady characters? Maybe as a way to supplement his pension? I just wish he’d told me. I could have helped.”

I placed a hand on his shoulder.“It’s not your fault. Your grandfather is a grown man. He knows how to take care of himself.”

“Or not.”

He rang the bell and moments later we were ensconced in the cozy kitchen of a small apartment that housed Chase’s mom and her sister. Aunt Ariadne was a forceful and voluble woman, apparently quite the opposite of Martha Kingsley. Chase had warned me his mom wasn’t exactly the life and soul of the party. After Chase’s dad died, she’d had a mental breakdown, and now lived with Ariadne, who was also awidow, though her husband hadn’t been a cop but an MTA security guard. And instead of dying from a gunshot wound, like Chase’s dad, he’d died of a coronary after a lifelong habit of enjoying all the best Kentucky Fried Chicken had to offer.

“So you finally come to see us, huh?” asked Ariadne, chopping an innocent onion on the chopping block with so much violence I was sure she was going to cut straight through the block.

“I told you, Aunt Ariadne. I’ve been busy.”

“So you say,” she snapped. “So busy you can’t even visit your own mother. Huh!”

I decided that maybe I should intervene on Chase’s behalf. “It’s true, Aunt Ariadne. Chase has been very busy. Lots of criminals to catch and all that.”

“Huh! Criminals in The Hamptons! Everybody knows they don’t have real criminals in The Hamptons! Only a bunch of teenagers crashing cars on Friday night.”

“Well, we do have our fair amount of murders.”

“Murders! A bunch of rich people killing other rich people is not what I call murder.”

“What would you call it then?” asked Chase, giving me a cheery wink.

“Good riddance! I hope they all murder each other! Every last one of them! The world would be a much better place without all those horrible excuses for human beings! Leeches, the lot of ‘em!”

It was pretty clear to me that, like Sally Borrell, Aunt Ariadne wasn’t big on celebrities. I couldn’t blame her. After living in Hampton Cove all my life, and meeting my fair share of them, I could honestly say a lot of them were indeed horrible human beings. But to say that they deserved to be murdered was a little extreme. Nobody deserved to be murdered, though when Ariadne attacked a sweet little carrot with the same fervor she’d destroyed that onion, I decided wisely to keep my mouth shut this time. I did not want to provoke a woman who could handle a knife like that.

“So how’s Mom?” asked Chase.

“Ask her yourself! She’s in her room!”

Drawn by all the shouting, a woman appeared in the doorframe. She shuffled in, all one hundred pounds of her. Chase warmly enveloped her in an embrace.“Hey, Mom,” he said softly.

“Chase,” she said croakily. “It’s so good to see you.”

She was smaller than me, which was saying something as I’m pretty pint-sized myself, and she looked even thinner than me, too. About the size of the average New York catwalk model, I would say. She had a lovely face, short gray hair, and large eyes. All in all, she looked healthy. Not the human wreck Chase had made her out to be. And she seemed to recognize her son just fine, even calling him by his actual name. None of that ‘Johnny the Milkman’ stuff this time.

The woman turned to me.“And who is this? A colleague of yours?”

“Yes, she is, and also my girlfriend.”

The woman’s large eyes went even larger. “Your girlfriend!”

“You didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend!” Aunt Ariadne harrumphed.

“Well, I do, and this is her. Odelia Poole. She’s a reporter.”

“A reporter!” Aunt Ariadne bellowed, as if I was Satan’s spawn itself.

“And a civilian consultant to the police department,” I hastened to add, hoping this would guarantee me safe passage from this apartment, in the event Aunt Ariadne didn’t kill me on the spot.

Both women studied me carefully.“She’s skinny,” Aunt Ariadne finally decided.

“She’s lovely,” said Chase’s mother.

“Thanks, Mrs. Kingsley,” I said.

“So where did you find her? asked Ariadne.

“Hampton Cove,” I said. “It’s where I live. And work.”

Aunt Ariadne snorted loudly.“The Hamptons again, eh? Are you a celebrity?”

“No, I’m not,” I admitted. “And I haven’t murdered one either.”

“Too bad. Everyone should murder a celebrity from time to time. Make a habit of it.”

“Odelia has actually solved a lot of celebrity murders,” said Chase. “She’s an ace sleuth.”

“Is she now?” asked Aunt Ariadne, giving me a dirty scowl. “Now why would you go and do a silly thing like that?”

“Because celebrities are just like people,” I said defensively, repeating something I’d told Detective Borrell. “I mean, celebritiesare people, obviously, and when they’re murdered they deserve to receive the same justice as the rest of us.”

“Silly notion, if you ask me. Damn silly.”

“Oh, come off it, Ariadne,” said Martha. “I think it’s wonderful. Chase has found himself a fellow sleuth to go sleuthing with. I think it’s wonderfully romantic.”

“Sleuthing together? Romantic? You’re nuts, Martha.”

“No, I’m not. You’re nuts if you think all celebrities are scum.”

“Theyare scum! A bunch of useless wastrels, the lot of them. Wasting our time, wasting our money, wasting our humanity.” She wagged a finger in my face. “Next time a celebrity is murdered, you should give the killer the Nobel Prize, that’s what you should do!”

“I’m sorry, but it’s not in my power to dole out Nobel Prizes,” I said, feeling a little overwhelmed by this woman. I kept my eye on that huge knife, hoping I’d said the right thing.

“’Stop scaring the girl,” said Martha. “Is this really the first impression you want to make on your future niece-in-law?”

“Niece-in-law?” asked Ariadne with a frown. “Are you going to marry this stick figure?”

“She’s not a stick figure,” Martha protested. “She’s simply slim, that’s all. Just like me.”

“And haven’t I told you a thousand times you have to eat more?!”

“You have, and I do, but I’m not like you. I don’t gain weight when I look at a glass of water.”

“Oh, now you’re calling me fat, are you? Nice! I put a roof over your head, sister!”

Chase had sidled up to me.“Are you all right? Aunt Ariadne can be a bit… forceful.”

“Scary, you mean.”

He grinned.“She used to scare the crap out of me when I was little. Still does, actually.”

We both watched the woman wield that knife as if she was going to carve up Martha. Finally, she placed it down and continued the argument unarmed, and we both heaved a sigh of relief.

“Um, can I ask you something?” asked Chase.

“What?” grumbled Ariadne, who’d turned to her pots that were simmering on the stove.

“Have you heard from Grandpa Kingsley lately?”

“No, we haven’t,” said Martha. “Why? Is there something wrong?”

Chase frowned.“No, I’m sure there isn’t,” he said, clearly not wanting to cause alarm. “He hasn’t returned my calls is all. And when I went to see him this morning he wasn’t home.”

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly logical explanation,” said Martha.

“He’s probably drunk like a skunk and sleeping it off on some bench in Central Park,” said Aunt Ariadne, wiping her hands on her apron. “Typical.”

“Grandpa doesn’t do public intoxication,” said Chase. “So that’s out of the question.”

“I’m sure he’ll turn up soon,” said his mother. “He’s just being secretive. You know your grandfather. He likes to surprise people.”

“I would prefer if he’d just pick up his phone.”

“Can’t pick up the phone when you’re strung out on booze,” said Aunt Ariadne gruffly.

“He’s not a drunk,” Chase insisted. “In fact I’m pretty sure he’s a teetotaler these days.”

“Have you found yourself a nice place to live yet, Chase?” asked his mother.

“Not yet, Mom, but I keep looking and I’ll find something.”

She nodded, darting an anxious glance at Aunt Ariadne. I remembered Chase telling me how he wanted to take care of his mother but wasn’t in a position to do so. For a brief moment I suddenly saw all of us living in my tiny house: me, Chase, his mom, Aunt Ariadne, and my cats. I shivered. It was not a prospect I enjoyed contemplating.

I looked up when Aunt Ariadne plunked a plate of hash browns in front of my nose, stabbed a finger at it, and snapped,“Eat! Put some fat on those skinny bones of yours.”

It was a testament to the force of her personality that I obediently said,“Yes, ma’am,” and dug in.

Chase was shaking with laughter, until his aunt slammed a plate in front of him as well, and grunted,“Eat! I don’t like the sight of you, either. You’ve lost weight.”

“No, I haven’t,” said Chase.

“Yes, you have,” she said, and grabbed his face with one hand, digging her fingers into his cheeks and puffing up his lips. “Right here. These lines weren’t there last time you came to visit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Chase mumbled.

Aunt Ariadne let go of Chase’s face and turned a kindling eye on me. “You have to feed him. Fatten him up.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I repeated.

She grunted with approval, and for the next half hour or so, watched us both eat, while Martha regaled us with an extensive report of everything that had happened to her in the last two weeks, which wasn’t all that interesting or entertaining. But at least we were going to escape this place with our lives. I mean, Aunt Ariadne wasn’t going to feed us only to kill us off later, was she? And we had one thing going for us: neither of us was a celebrity. Thank God.

Chapter 11

On our way back to Hampton Cove, Chase was quiet, which wasn’t surprising, given the enormous pile of hash browns his aunt had made him devour. Luckily she’d gone easier on me, and after I’d eaten one plate, hadn’t insisted I eat a second one, like she’d done with Chase.

“Your mom seemed fine,” I finally said, deciding to break the silence.

“Yeah, she had a good day.”

“You mean she’s not always like this?”

He shook his head.“Like I said, sometimes she forgets who I am.”

“Johnny the milkman, huh?”

“Yup. Or worse.”

“Bozo the Clown?”

“No. Sometimes she thinks I’m Dad, and tries to kiss me.”

“Oops.”

“Yeah. Last time she said we had to try for a baby. I graciously declined.”

“That can’t have been fun for you.”

“It was funny to Aunt Ariadne. She laughed her ass off.”

“She lacks delicacy.”

“Honey, Aunt Ariadne doesn’t even know the meaning of the word.”

I could see that. Aunt Ariadne was a little rough around the edges. We’d just merged onto the Long Island Expressway when a call came in. It was Sally Borrell. Chase put her on speakerphone.

“Yes, Sally. What have you got for me?”

“Well, he’s not in any of the hospitals—and he’s not in the morgue, either.”

“That’s great news.”

“Yeah, he’s not anywhere else, either, though. He just kinda went off the grid there, Chase.”

He balled his hand into a fist and bumped it softly against the steering wheel.“What could have happened to the old man?”

“We’ll keep looking, but so far we’ve got nothing. Is it possible he had no credit cards? No bank account? Nothing?”

“That’s possible. Grandpa doesn’t believe in banks or credit institutions. Says they’re all a bunch of crooks and thieves and he wants them nowhere near his money.”

“He’s probably right, but that only makes our work more difficult.”

“What about his cell phone?”

“Hasn’t been used for days.”

“Dammit.”

There was a pause.“Is Miss Spume with you?”

“She’s sitting right next to me.”

“Tell her I’m sorry. I was way out of line before.”

“Tell her yourself. You’re on speakerphone.”

“Kingsley!”

“Borrell.”

There was another pause.“Miss Spume?”

I leaned into the cell phone, which was in its cradle on the dash.“The name is Odelia Poole.”

“Whatever. I owe you an apology, Spume. I guess I got carried away.”

“That’s all right. I can appreciate what it must feel like to lose a partner.”

“That’s an awfully nice thing to say, Spume. Maybe you’re not so bad after all.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

“Yeah. Listen, take care of Chase, will you? He’s a great guy. And we all miss him down here.”

“I know,” I said, and I did. I would miss Chase if he suddenly disappeared from my life.

“Hey, why don’t you put in for a transfer to Hampton Cove PD?” Chase asked suddenly, and I could see he wasn’t kidding either. “That way we could be colleagues again, Borrell.”

“I’ll think about it, Kingsley,” said Sally acerbically, and promptly disconnected.

“Do you think she will do it?” I asked.

“Put in for transfer? I doubt it. Hampton Cove is considered the boonies. Nobody wants to work in the boonies.”

“The boonies, huh?”

“Nobody moves from the big leagues to the minor leagues, Odelia. And Sally is no exception.”

“You did. And you said you like it.”

He gave me a grin.“I’ve got my reasons.”

“Oh?”

“One big reason, actually, and her name starts with an O and ends with Delia.”

“Mh. That’s a tough one to figure out.” But I got all warm and fuzzy inside anyway.

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I arrived home just in time to find Max and Dooley all atwitter. Apparently they hadn’t stopped looking for Bambi, same way me and Chase had been looking for his grandpa. They actually thought they’d found her, locked up by some kidnapper, and they’d even heard her scream. I immediately called Chase, who was already back at the police station. So him and Uncle Alec got into my uncle’s car and met me outside within five minutes. We all filed in, Max and Dooley and me, and then we were on our way to rescue Bambi Wiggins from ‘a fate worse than death,’ as Dooley described it.

“What’s this all about?” asked my uncle.

“Attempted murder,” I said without hesitation. “Someone’s trying to murder… someone else.”

“How do you know?” asked Chase, who, once again, was the designated driver.

“I, um… happened to walk past the house and suddenly heard a loud scream.”

I didn’t explain it hadn’t been me walking past the house, nor did Chase ask how it was possible I’d gone walking past this murder house when he’d only dropped me off ten minutes before.

We soon arrived, and that’s when I saw that it was actually the Wiggins place. Huh?

“Randi and Bambi Wiggins,” Chase said. “The postal duo.”

I had a strong suspicion I knew exactly what was going on here. For once, my two sleuthing felines had made a boo-boo. But there was no backing out now. We were going to have to bite the bullet. Chase looked through the window into the Wiggins living room as my uncle rang the bell.

“Be careful!” Dooley said. “He’s got an axe!”

And that’s when we heard loud screams coming from inside the house.

“There! That’s Bambi!” Max cried. “Hurry!”

My uncle pounded the door with his fist, and Chase said,“Can’t see a thing. Just the biggest Christmas tree I’ve ever seen in my entire life. That thing is huge!”

The entire house was dressed up for Christmas, actually, with a big sleigh on the roof, a Santa dangling precariously from the second-floor window, and Christmas lights all around.

The door swung open and Randi Wiggins appeared, looking as jovial and cheerful as ever. For the occasion the big guy was dressed in a knitted Christmas sweater depicting Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Cute.“Hey there, Chief,” he said. “What’s going on?”

“My niece heard screams,”’ said the Chief. “May we come in and take a look?”

“Screams? Oh, that must be Willa. She’s been screaming up a storm.”

Of course. I’d totally forgotten that Bambi was expecting. She must have had that baby by now, which would explain the screams, just like Randi said.

“He’s just trying to confuse you,” said Max. “Ask about Bambi!”

“Yeah, we want to see Bambi!” Dooley added.

“We want proof of life!”

“Is Bambi in?” I asked.

Randi shrugged.“She’s kinda busy. Now’s not a really good time, Odelia.”

“Don’t take no for an answer,” Max said. “Demand to see Bambi.”

“We still need to see her, I’m afraid.”

Randi stepped aside.“Suit yourself. But I’m warning you. It’s not pretty.”

“He’s killed her,” said Max.

“There’s blood all over the place,” said Dooley.

“Poor Bambi!”

“We’re too late!”

Uncle Alec walked past the man and entered the house, followed by Chase, me, and the cats.

“Um… what are these cats doing here?” Randi asked, surprised.

“Oh, those are mine,” I said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Sure don’t,” said Randi. “I actually have one myself.”

The house was all dressed up for Christmas, and cozy as heck. A huge Christmas tree dominated the living room, and there were little lights everywhere. Bambi and Randi were obviously big on Christmas. I just wished my own home was as Christmassy as theirs, but I hadn’t really taken the time this year. Maybe once, when I had a family of my own, I would pay more attention to the holidays. I knew I wanted to. It just seemed like a lot of hassle to go through just for myself and Max.

“So where’s Bambi?” I asked, searching around. Not that I believed she was being held captive by her own husband, but it was the only way to calm down Max and Dooley, who’d gone berserk. And I actually wanted to see her, too. I liked Bambi, and had totally forgotten about her pregnancy.

“Upstairs,” said Randi.

“Nice place you’ve got here, Randi,” said my uncle.

“Great fan of Christmas, are you?” Chase asked.

“That’s more my wife. She’s big on Christmas. If it was up to her she’d have those lights up all year.”

“How the hell did you get that sleigh on the roof?” asked Uncle Alec.

“It wasn’t easy!”

“Less talk, more showing us Bambi,” Max growled.

We all moved up the stairs behind Randi.“Don’t mind the mess,” he said, opening the baby gate. He gestured at a bunch of toys lying around. A big Barbie and an actual nursery station. “I know it’s a little early, as we only brought Willa home last week. But you know how grammies and grandpas are. We told them she has no use fortoys just yet but they just couldn’t help themselves.”

We all filed into the baby room, and I held my breath when I saw how gorgeous it was. Bambi and Randi had really outdone themselves. The theme was a pretty pink, and a collection of cat paintings adorned one wall, with a huge drawing of Bambi, Randi and Baby Willa dominating another one. It looked like the mural Cameron and Mitchell had on the wall of Lily’s room inModern Family: Bambi and Randi depicted as angels, Willa’s cot right beneath it.

“Bambi, sorry about the intrusion, honey,” Randi said softly as he padded up to his wife, “but some of the neighbors must have heard Willa scream and called the cops on us.”

Bambi laughed.“Of course they did. She’s a real fire engine, this one, isn’t she?”

In her arms, she was holding tiny Willa, swaddled up in a cloud of pink. Willa had her eyes closed, and looked like a regular angel.

“Oh, my God, what a cutie!” I exclaimed.

Willa must have sensed our presence, for she let out a loud wail.

“So that’s the sound you heard, Odelia,” Chase said with a grin. “A baby crying.”

“I guess so,” I said, cutting a look to Max and Dooley, who were completely discombobulated by the sight of Willa.

“So… Bambi hasn’t been abducted?” Max asked.

“Bambi and Randi had a baby,” I explained.

“Baby Willa,” said Randi, sidling up to his wife and his newborn baby girl.

“Willa Wiggins?” asked Uncle Alec. “Really?”

Randi shrugged.“Hey, it wasn’t my idea.”

“My favorite great-aunt was called Willa,” Bambi explained. She flicked a switch on a miniature Christmas tree and the moment the lights flickered on, Willa stopped wailing and stared at it in fascination.

“So that’s the trick, huh?” asked Bambi. “You like Christmas lights just as much as your mommy does.”

“This is so sweet,” said Chase. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, Bambi—Randi.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” said Randi. “I guess not all of the neighbors have heard the news. That’ll change soon when we invite them over for the christening.”

“You’re inviting the whole neighborhood?” I asked.

“Sure. We can all share this miracle of life.”

Uncle Alec smiled.“I remember when Odelia was just a tiny bundle of joy. When my sister brought her home from the hospital and asked me to be her godfather, I was over the moon.” He wiped away a tear.

I rubbed his back.“When I have a baby you’re going to be its godfather, too, Uncle Alec.”

He looked up in surprise.“I am?”

“Of course.” For some reason, my gaze wandered to Chase. He caught it and came over to plant a kiss on my lips. Uncle Alec blinked at the sight, then gave me a wink. I knew that each time the holidays came around, he had a tough time—remembering how he and Aunt Ginny had wanted to start a family, too. At least he had Mom and me—and Gran, of course.

“Watch out!” suddenly Dooley cried, and rushed forward. Randi had picked up a package and was opening it. When he saw Dooley zooming in, he hesitated, and gave me a questioning look.

“Dooley, it’s all right,” I said, picking up the cat.

“But… he’s got an axe!” Dooley cried.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” I insisted.

Randi opened the package.“Got you something, babe,” he said, and handed his wife a pacifier in the shape of a Christmas tree.

“Oh, honey!” Bambi exclaimed. “You found it! And just in time for Christmas!”

“Of course I found it,” said Randi, his face creasing into a wide grin. “I’m Mr. Postal, aren’t I?”

“You sure are,” she said, and placed the pacifier between baby Willa’s lips. Instantly she began to suck on it, making happy noises.

“I just knew it,” said Bambi. “The only way to make a Wiggins baby happy is to give it a Christmas gift.”

“Runs in the family,” said Randi.

I set Dooley down on the floor and enjoyed the warmth of Chase’s arm around me. When Bambi offered to let me hold her baby for a moment, I was touched. Ever so carefully, I took Willa into my arms. She was such a cutie-pie! I caught Max and Dooley watching on with bated breath, so I crouched down and showed them the baby. Both cats looked on with amazement.

“It’s… so small,” said Dooley.

“And it smells so good,” Max said.

“This is Max and this is Dooley,” I whispered in Willa’s ear. “They’re the sweetest and smartest cats in the world.” A big orange cat, seated next to Max, cleared her throat. This was probably Randi and Bambi’s cat. “And so are you, of course, pretty one,” I added.

“That’s Ellen,” said Randi. “She’s already used to the baby, aren’t you, Ellen?”

“I think it might take my cats a little while,” I said. “They look pretty shocked.”

The visit over, we all returned to the car and Chase drove us home. And we’d just turned the corner to our street when Max said, “Whenever you and Chase want to have a baby, it’s fine with me and Dooley.”

I laughed.“Maybe you’re ready, but I’m not, Max.”

“What was that?” asked Chase.

“I think Max and Dooley have baby fever.”

He smiled.“I have baby fever.”

“Me too,” Uncle Alec chimed in.

The snow was coming down hard now, and all around us the world had turned white. Twinkling lights indicated Christmas was almost upon us, and I suddenly felt happy. I hugged Max and Dooley, who’d jumped up onto my lap.

“If you have a baby, are you still going to keep us?” asked Dooley.

I rubbed him behind his ear.“Of course I’m going to keep you. You’re my babies, too.”

“Odelia is talking to her cats again,” said Chase, shaking his head.

“You’re just going to have to get used to it, Chase,” said Uncle Alec.

“Oh, but I am,” he said. “In fact soon enough I may start talking to cats myself!”

“I hope not,” I said softly. “Cause then you’ll discover all my secrets.”

“Don’t worry, Odelia,” Max said. “Dooley and me will guard your secrets with our lives. Isn’t that right, Dooley?”

“Damn skippy,” said Dooley. “We will take your secrets to the grave!”

“Please don’t mention the word grave,” Max said with a shiver. “It gives me the creeps.”

“We will take your secrets to cat heaven!”

“Cat heaven?” asked Chase with a frown. “Did someone just mention cat heaven?”

Max, Dooley and I shared a look of alarm. Uh-oh… Had Chase just overheard a cat convo? Now that would be a first.

Chapter 12

The next day was the day before Christmas, and I decided to go into the office to give Dan the bad news in person. I’d waited until the last minute, hoping the Mayor would change his mind and answer one of the many messages I left on his phone, but no such luck. Dan wasn’t happy. He said it was a disgrace that the only newspaper in town did not have the scoop on the new Santa. More than that, though, I thinkhe was offended that he’d been replaced, probably for the first time in his life.

When I left the office, I ran into Chase.“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, and his face was flushed. “I’ve got a lead on my grandpa. Guess where he is?”

“The hospital?”

“Right here in Hampton Cove! Someone saw him get on the Jitney two days ago, headed for The Hamptons. I talked to the dispatcher and they have him on the nine o’clock bus to Hampton Cove. The bus picked him up at 59th, between Lexington and Third. So I got in touch with the driver and he says he remembers him. Says he got off at the Hampton Cove stop and was met by some guy.”

“What guy?”

Chase shook his head.“No description. All he remembers is he was wearing a Knicks cap.”

“That narrows it down. So what do we do now?”

“No idea.” He looked unhappy. “Why would my grandfather come to Hampton Cove and not get in touch with me? It doesn’t make sense. The only thing I can think of is that he wanted to surprise me. Spend Christmas with me. But then he met Knicks Cap Guy and vanished into thin air.”

“First the well-dressed man and now this guy. Your grandfather keeps running into suspicious men.”

“And ends up disappearing.”

“But someone must have seen him.”

“I talked to some people but no one remembers. Which isn’t surprising. The stop is on Main Street. It’s a pretty busy place.”

“None of the shopkeepers remember anything? Wilbur Vickery?”

“Nope.”

“Looks like we both struck out. I still have no idea who the new Santa is and you lost your grandfather.” In the grand scheme of things, it was more important to find Chase’s granddad, though. Santa would be revealed tonight. His grandfather just might have run into the wrong people and be inbig trouble.

“I can’t believe this,” he said, shaking his head. “He came here to see me and now he’s gone.”

“We’ll find him,” I promised. “Somehow we’ll find your grandfather, Chase.”

He gave me a hopeful look.“You think so?”

“I know so,” I said with more conviction than I was feeling.

“If anyone can find him, it’s you. I’ve never met a better detective than you, Odelia.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said with a grim smile. I wasn’t sure it was warranted, though. In fact I had only one more card to play. The feline card.

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I was working on my article about Santa, what little I had gathered, when there was a soft scratching sound at the glass sliding door. I looked up, and when the scratchy sound was joined by a soft mewling, I smiled. My feline squad had returned from their mission. I just hoped they’d been able to accomplish more than me and Chase had.

I opened the door and Max and Dooley hurried in. Their coats were flecked with snow and they looked as if they’d just spent hours in the icy cold, which they had. They hurried to the radiator and plunked down right in front of it. Then, noticing I’d lit a fire in the fireplace, they gratefully moved over to the sheepskin rug in front of it and stretched out, their backs to the fire. It wasn’t a real fire with actual logs, just an electrical one, but it supplied a lot of heat, and the red radial glow was almost as good as the real thing.

“So? What did you guys find out?” I asked. Dooley was checking the socks dangling from the mantle, ascertaining if they were still in place. When he discovered they were, he contentedly placed his head on his paws and dozed off.

“Max?” I asked. “Anything?”

Max yawned, then closed his mouth with a click.“Well, we talked to Kingman, and he remembers an old guy walking around with another guy wearing a Knicks cap. He remembers because the old guy reminded him of Santa so much. The old guy had one of those rolling suitcases, which was a bad idea, as he kept getting it stuck in snowdrifts. But then the guy in the Knicks cap got tired of waiting and snatched the suitcase from his hands and carried it for him.”

“And this happened around the time the Jitney arrived?”

“He’s not sure. He’s learned to ignore the Jitney. Doesn’t even notice it these days.”

Which was to be expected. When your owner runs the store directly across from the bus stop, after a while you stop seeing the buses coming and going.“You’re sure this guy looked like Santa?”

“That’s what Kingman said. He had a nice white beard and one of those red Santa hats.”

It could be Chase’s grandfather. Of course, a lot of people wore those red Santa hats around the holidays, and a lot of eighty-year-old men had white beards. “Did he also see where they went?”

“They went into the Hampton Cove Star.”

I smiled and patted the big red cat on the back.“You did great, Max. You did really great.”

“Thanks. And now I need a nap. Traipsing in the snow all day is not my idea of a good time!”

I got up and picked my phone from the table.“I put some snacks in the kitchen for you guys.”

He looked up with an expression of relish on his furry face.“Cat Snax?”

“Yep. But you’ll have to share with Dooley.”

“Oh, I will. I’ll take seventy percent and leave thirty percent for Dooley. Or eighty-twenty.”

“Why don’t you make it fifty-fifty?”

“Have you seen me? I’m at least twice as big as Dooley, so I need twice as much food.”

“Fifty-fifty, Max. It’s only fair.”

“Oh, all right,” he said grudgingly, then promptly dozed off, just like Dooley.

I watched them with a smile on my face. Amazing. My cats had just found Chase’s gramps.

Chapter 13

I met Chase in front of the Hampton Cove Star, a small boutique hotel in the heart of Hampton Cove. It featured an actual indoor pool, wellness center, fitness club, and whatever other amenities its upscale clientele demanded. There were only about thirty rooms, but they were all top of the line. Pretty pricey, too, as was to be expected. Still, they were usually fully booked during the holidays, and now was probably no exception.

“Guess what?” said Chase when he joined me on the sidewalk. “I think I may have found your Santa.”

“My Santa? You mean our Santa. I mean Hampton Cove’s Santa.”

“He’s right here at the Hampton Cove Star.”

“No way.”

“Way. Your uncle Alec had a drink with a guy who works at Town Hall. And he said the Mayor has set the new Santa up at the Star, all expenses paid, in one of their best rooms. They’re treating him as their star guest. Or guest star. Or whatever.”

“He must be one special Santa. Dan never enjoyed that privilege.”

“Oh, he’s one of the top Santas, according to the Chief’s buddy. The best of the best.”

“He has to be, if they’re willing to spend so lavishly on him.”

He blew into his hands and stomped his feet to stay warm.“So what about my grandfather?”

“Well, turns out he’s also staying here. Someone saw him and Knicks Cap Man head inside.”

“Who’s your witness?”

“You know I can’t talk about that, Chase. I have to protect—”

“Your sources. Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He glanced up at the white fa?ade of the hotel. “Why would my grandfather stay in such a fancy place? And why not tell me about it? None of this makes sense.”

“Unless he was lured here under some kind of pretext and now he’s being held captive.”

He nodded grimly.“Let’s find out, shall we? Solve this mystery once and for all.”

We went inside, through the ceiling-high doors, and found ourselves in a neat little atrium, a giant Christmas tree reaching to the second floor, a sort of bridge running over our heads, garlands and Christmas lights dangling down from it. The desk was straight ahead, and we made our way over.

“Hi,” said the receptionist, a neat little swarthy man with perfectly trimmed black mustache. His head was bald and egg-shaped. “How can I help you?”

“We’re looking for a man,” I said.

“Two men, actually,” said Chase.

“One is my grandfather,” said Chase, “and he’s missing.”

“The other is the new Hampton Cove Santa, who’s rumored to be staying at this location.”

The man clamped his lips together, his eyes widening slightly. Then he shook his head.“I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

Chase gave him his best frown.“What do you mean you can’t help us?”

“Such a man is not staying at this establishment. He never has and he never will.”

I exchanged a puzzled glance with Chase.“You mean Chase’s grandpa or Santa?”

“Both. Neither. They’re not here. Neither one of these gentlemen.”

“But we have credible information that they are,” said Chase.

“Your informant has made a mistake, sir,” said the man. “No such person is staying at the Hampton Cove Star, I can promise you.”

With a grunt of annoyance, Chase took out his badge and placed it on the counter.“This is a police matter, buddy. Now think again, please.”

The man’s eyes widened even more, and he produced a soft whimpering sound. Then he leaned in and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “IF such a man were to stay at the Hampton Cove Star—and I’m not saying he is—he would be staying in the Ambassador Suite.”

“Which man? Chase’s grandfather or the new Santa?” I asked.

“Both. Neither.” He produced another whimper. “I’ve said too much already!”

We turned away from the highly distraught receptionist to convene about the matter.“This is all very strange, Odelia,” Chase determined.

“You think? Who is staying here? Your grandfather or the new Santa?”

“Both. Neither,” said Chase with a tight smile. “Let’s find out, shall we?” He took out his gun, causing the man behind the reception desk to utter a startled cry and duck down to take cover.

“Is that really necessary?” I asked.

“Yes, it is. I’m pretty sure that my grandfather is the victim of foul play, and if I have to bust him out of that room where he’s being held captive, I’m not going in there unarmed.”

“Maybe we should call for backup. My uncle can be here in minutes.”

Chase wavered, then shook his head.“Let’s first find out what’s going on. We can always call for backup later.” And he set foot for the stairs.

I followed closely behind him, making sure I stayed hidden behind his broad back. I’m not a scaredy cat, but if Knicks Cap Man tried any funny business, I preferred not to get shot. From watching many, many movies I knew for a fact that it’s always the ditzy blonde who gets it first, while the big, burly cop makes it out alive.

We arrived on the second floor, and traversed the funny little bridge that stretched across the lobby. The Ambassador Suite was on the other side of it, apparently the best room in the house.

Chase had slowed his pace down to a crawl as he approached the entrance to the suite, and he had his gun cocked and loaded, aiming it straight ahead.

“No goons,” he whispered. “Whoever Knicks Cap Man is, he’s not very careful.”

“Must be an amateur,” I whispered back, still taking cover behind Chase.

“Well, he’s dealing with a professional now,” he said through gritted teeth, and tapped the door to the suite with the barrel of his gun. “Police!” he bellowed. “Open this door!”

From down in the lobby, a loud whimper came, and when I glanced over the railing, I saw the receptionist looking up at me, still huddled behind his desk.

“Don’t worry,” I whispered, then pointed at Chase and me. “We’re the good guys.”

He nodded, a look of extreme distress on his face.

Chase tapped the door again.“Hampton Cove Police. Open this door now!”

And then the door did open, and an old man appeared, dressed in a long red robe, and sporting the most beautiful white beard, white mustache, and white curly hair I’d ever seen outside of the movies. He even had twinkly blue eyes and wire-rimmed glasses perched precariously on the tip of a stubby nose.

“Grandpa!” Chase cried, lowering his gun.

“Chaser!” said the old man, and opened his arms for an embrace.

Chapter 14

But before the old man could wrap Chase—or Chaser—in his arms, the consummately professional cop went into a crouch and pressed his back against the wall. “How many?” he hissed.

“Huh?” asked his grandfather.

“How many guards?”

“Guards?”

“How many people are watching you?”

“Nobody is watching me, Chaser. It’s just me, myself and I, I’m afraid.”

Chase rose from his crouch, disbelief etched on his face.“You mean to tell me you’re not being held captive here?”

“Do you really think they’d let me answer the door if I was being held captive?”

“Good point,” said Chase after a pause.

“Come on in, Chaser, and who is the lovely lady?”

“This is Odelia Poole,” said Chase. “She’s my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend! My, my. Well, do come inside. It’s much cozier here than in this drafty lobby.”

We stepped inside the suite, which offered a nice view of the bathroom through a glass wall.

When Chase’s grandpa caught my look, he shook his head. “Not really my style, I’m afraid, Miss Poole. I’m always afraid the maid will walk in while I’m taking a shower and catch a look at my nekkid willie. And trust me, it’s more her than me I’m afraid will be scarred for life.”

“It is… very modern,” I admitted. Near the window, there was a piece of art—at least that’s what I thought it was—with a bunch of iron rods sticking out of a concrete base. The rods were covered with LED lights and shone with a soft yellow glow. Very, very modern.

The old man offered us a seat next to the concrete construction, and only now did I see that what I’d assumed was a concrete platform was actually a couch with gray cushions. I gingerly took a seat. “Can I offer you some refreshments?” asked Grandpa Kingsley. “Martini? Scotch? I have the full use of the minibar, and the council has assured me I don’t need to stint. Oh, I know what you need. Some eggnog.”

“The council?” I asked. “The council set you up here?”

“Yes, they most certainly have.”

“Please tell me, before I go crazy, what the hell is going on,” said Chase.

“Well, Chaser,” said Grandpa, taking a seat across from us, “that’s a bit of a long story.”

“Tell me. I’ve got all night,” said Chase.

“I don’t. They’re picking me up in…” He checked his watch. “Exactly half an hour. Lucky for you I already had my shower, and now all I need to do is get dressed.”

“Get dressed for what?!” Chase cried. The suspense was obviously killing him.

“I think I know, Chaser,” I said.

“Please don’t call me that.”

Chase’s grandfather leaned in. “I’m the only one who’s allowed to call him that, I’m afraid.”

“And why is that?”

“Because he used to chase all the girls away, of course,” said the old man with a chuckle.

“Please, Grandpa,” said Chase. “Odelia doesn’t need to hear all that.”

“Grandpa, or… Santa?” I asked, with a keen look at the old man.

He grinned.“What gave me away?”

“The beard, the mustache, the hair… the red robe. You look exactly like Santa.”

“Thanks. I aim to please. After twenty years as the Thornton Fifth Avenue Santa I know a thing or two about transforming myself into Santa Claus, of course.”

Chase’s jaw dropped. “You were the Thornton Santa?”

“Of course I was. A man needs a hobby, Chase, and after I retired I needed one more than ever. So I went to one of those temp agencies and they thought I’d make a great Santa. Thornton gave me a shot and I’ve been their Santa for two decades—until they canned me.”

“And you never told me!”

“Every man likes to have his little secrets. And it was only a minor indulgence. Just a few days around the holidays each year. Hardly the big moneymaker.”

“So why did they fire you?”

“New management,” I said knowingly.

A loud ding-dong echoed through the suite and Grandpa Kingsley got up.“Yes, new management. They took one look at my birthdate and decided I was too old. Lucky for me word must have spread about my work, for suddenly a guy from the Hampton Cove council showed up on my doorstep and offered me a job! I had to haggle with him about the price, but eventually we managedto come to a mutually beneficial agreement.”

He went to open the door and Chase said,“The well-dressed man. He works for the council.”

I nodded.“Probably the same guy wearing the Knicks cap. And my uncle’s drinking buddy.”

Grandpa Kingsley opened the door and the receptionist with the egg-shaped head peered in.

“Everything all right, sir?”

“Why, of course! I just got a visit from my grandson and his girlfriend, so everything is just peachy. Oh, thanks, buddy,” he added, and took the tray with three glasses of eggnog from the guy.

“Very well, sir,” said the now pale-faced receptionist. “I’m happy everything is to your satisfaction.” He directed an anxious look at Chase, obviously wondering where he’d put the gun, but then the new Hampton Cove Santa closed the door and handed us our drinks.

The eggnog was great. Rich and creamy.

“So is your name really Kris Kringle?” I asked.

The old man laughed, his belly shaking.“Close enough! My name is Kris Kingsley.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Grandpa?” asked Chase, wiping his lips. “I’ve been looking all over New York City for you. I even filed a missing person report, for Pete’s sake.”

“You did?” asked Kris with remarkable equanimity. “Well, I wanted to surprise you, of course. And I wanted to see the look on your face when you saw your old gramps mount that sleigh and make his way through the streets of your new hometown.” He took a sip of eggnog. “Mh. Really hits thespot, doesn’t it? Oh, and I was sworn to secrecy. Signed an actual nondisclosure agreement. They even told me specifically not to mention anything to you, as you were dating some hotshot nosy reporter and she was sure to spill the beans on the front page of the Hampton Cove Gazette.”

I blushed.“I’m afraid I am that hotshot reporter, sir.”

“Just call me Kris.”

“I wouldn’t have spilled your secret, Kris. Not if you’d asked me not to.”

“Well, apparently some guy called Dan Goory was dying to find out about me—so he could ruin Christmas for everybody. At least that’s what they told me when they first came to see me.” He laughed. “Made me feel extremely important, I can tell you! Like one of those football players that gets traded for millions of dollars! And at my advanced age, no less! Cheered me right up.”

“I just wish you’d told me,” said Chase with a shake of the head. “You had me worried sick.”

“Worried sick? But Chaser, you know your Grandpa Kris is like a cat. I always land on my feet!”

“I know,” he said with a slight smile. “So you’re the new Santa, huh? What do you know?”

“Yeah,” Kris chuckled. “Imagine that, Chaser.” When I gave him a questioning look, he said, “Oh, right. Well, Chase here was always driving the girls away. Mind you, he was only six at the time. Said he had no need for girls. So I started calling him Chaser. I was the one who picked him up from school, you see, so we developed quite a bond, didn’t we, Chaser?”

“I’ve stopped driving the girls away from me a long time ago, Gramps,” said Chase.

“I know! You started chasing them instead, so the moniker still applied.”

“Well, I’ve stopped doing that as well,” said Chase with a slight smile.

Kris directed a curious glance at me.“Yeah, I can see that. So when is the wedding?”

We both laughed uncomfortably, Chase and I.“We haven’t really discussed that,” I said. “I mean, we’re just getting to know each other.”

Kris patted his grandson on the cheek and tsk-tsked.“Still good old Chaser, huh?”

“No! We just met, Grandpa. There’s simply no—I mean, we haven’t—the thing is…”

“Nobody is chasing anyone away, Kris,” I said. “We’re simply taking it one step at a time.”

“As you should,” said Kris with a waggle of his remarkably white beard. He slapped his thighs. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get ready for my big show! Santa’s in town!”

As he walked off to his bedroom, I noticed a box of Cohibas on a side table. When I opened it, I noticed several cigars were gone, and printed on the side of the box was a stamp that indicated the box was the property of Thornton Fifth Avenue. I shared a smile with Chase. Another mystery solved.

Chapter 15

The whole town was gathered in Town Square, around the huge Christmas tree. All around us the Christmas market was in full swing, with stalls having been set up all over the place, selling eggnog, gl?hwein, hot chocolate, and treats like gingerbread, bugle cones, Christmas tree brownies, candy canes, s’mores and a lot more. There was one stall where Wilbur Vickery sold Christmas trees, for people late to the party, but since they all looked a little worn-out, no one was buying what he had to sell.

“So where is this newfangled Santa?” asked Gran, who was shivering in her wool coat, her head drowning in a thick knit cap with Christmas motif. “If he’s not here soon I’m gone!”

“He’ll be here,” I said, hugging myself to get warm.

Snowflakes were gently fluttering down, covering Hampton Cove in a soft blanket of white. Chase was right by my side, a glass of gl?hwein in his hand—mulled wine with cinnamon—and so were my parents, Uncle Alec, and pretty much all of Hampton Cove. They all wanted to see the new Santa, so turnout for this traditional Christmas feast was great, which must have pleased the council and the Mayor, who were officiating the festivities. Even Dan was here, even though he’d told me he was going to sit this one out—a one-man boycott.

Outdoor heaters had been set up here and there, and people were taking turns getting warmed up before returning to their vigil in front of the tree.

“That tree is the ugliest tree I’ve ever seen,” said Gran, expressing the opinion of many.

“It’s not a real tree,” I told her. “It’s just made to look like one.”

“Well, they sure didn’t succeed. It doesn’t even look like a tree, just a giant clothes hanger.”

She was right. It was a giant clothes hanger. As if IKEA had decided to make the world’s biggest clothes hanger in some kind of Guinness World Record attempt and had created this.

“I’m sure it’s good for the environment,” said Mom. “Trees are not supposed to be used for decorative purposes and thrown away once Christmas is over,” she added when Gran cast her a scathing look.

“It’s tradition,” Gran snapped. “You don’t mess with tradition.”

“I think it’s not so bad,” said Dad. “If you squint a little it almost looks like a real tree.”

“If I squint a little you almost look like a real man,” said Gran, “but that has never fooled me!”

“Hey, that was uncalled for,” said Mom.

“A real man would have filed a complaint with the council just like I told him to,” said Gran. “And not weaseled out.”

“I didn’t weasel out,” said Dad. “I just didn’t see it as a priority. Besides, the Mayor personally assured me that he was going to take all the suggestions into consideration when deciding on next year’s celebration.”

“I like it,” said Chase. “It’s… art.”

“Some art,” Gran growled. “I suppose it’s European. French, probably. Like the Eiffel Tower. Another monstrosity.”

“The Eiffel Tower is not a monstrosity,” I said. “It’s romantic.”

“It’s a giant metal tower! There’s nothing romantic about it!”

“Well, I think it is. And I would like to visit Paris once—spend a romantic weekend there.”

Chase gave me a smile.“Oh, you would, would you?”

“Sure. Strut along the Champs Elys?es, sit on the bank of the Seine. Visit Montmartre.”

“We’ll have to do that sometime,” said Chase, hugging me close. I took a sip from his gl?hwein. Pretty good.

“So what does this grandfather of yours look like?” asked Gran. “Probably some doddering old nutcase with a fake beard, huh?”

“Actually he looks exactly like Santa,” I said. “Even more than Dan.”

“Just make sure Dan doesn’t hear you say that, honey,” said Mom. “He’s still your editor.”

“Well, it’s true,” I said. “Kris is a much better-looking Santa than Dan ever was.”

“He is, isn’t he?” asked Chase. “He could actually be the real Santa.”

“Sure he is, Chaser,” I said with a grin.

He rolled his eyes.“Please don’t call me that. I stopped chasing girls away a long time ago.”

“I kinda like it,” I admitted. “As long as it’s all the other girls you chase away, not me.”

“You have my word on that,” he said, pressing a kiss to my lips.

And then the moment had finally arrived. The Mayor mounted a makeshift stage in front of the big Christmas tree—that wasn’t a tree—and cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen. Dear fellow Hampton Covians. It is my honor and my privilege to introduce to you the new Santa of Hampton Cove. The moment you’ve all been waiting for. Here is… Santa!”

With remarkably sprightly step, Kris climbed the stage and waved at the crowd. There was a momentary hush when he appeared, then everybody started clapping and cheering.

“Hey, you were right,” said Mom. “He is the perfect Santa. Well done, Chase.”

“Oh, thanks, Marge,” said Chase, though it wasn’t really his credit to take.

“Not so fast!” a voice suddenly rang out, and we all watched as Dan Goory walked onto the stage and joined the Mayor and the new Santa.

“Oh, for the love of Mike!” said the Mayor. Then he reached out a hand like a traffic warden. “Now wait a minute, Dan. We talked about this.”

“I want to make an announcement!” Dan insisted, ignoring the Mayor. He unfolded a piece of paper, then placed his half-moon glasses on his face.

“You must be Dan,” said Kris, and walked up to his predecessor with outstretched hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Yeah, well,” muttered Dan, staring at the offered hand for a moment, not knowing what to do. Then, finally, he took it and shook it. “I’ve heard a great deal about you, too, Kris.”

“Only good things, I hope,” said Kris with a laugh.

“I wanted to ask you a few questions, Kris,” said Dan, a little stiffly.

Uh-oh. Dan stared out across the crowd of hundreds, all watching him intently. Right in front of him, a bunch of kids stood gaping up at the stage, drinking in his every word. He turned to Kris.

“Have you had a great trip from the North Pole, Santa?”

A collective sigh of relief could be heard, and Kris said,“Ho ho ho. I had a great trip, Dan!”

Dan stuffed his prepared speech back into his pocket and said,“I would like to officially welcome Santa to Hampton Cove. And wish him all the best! Long live Santa!”

And, like an umpire, he held up Santa’s arm. Kris patted the previous Santa on the back, and said, “Thanks, Dan. I’m very happy to be here, and I’m touched by your hospitality.”

Dan nodded.“You really are a great Santa, Santa, and I hope when you do your rounds tonight, you will think of me, too.”

“Oh, I most certainly will, Dan. At least…” he winked at the kids in the first row. “If you’re on my Nice list!”

Dan smiled indulgently.“I’m sure I am, Santa. I’m sure I am.”

“I’m not so sure,” Gran muttered. “Can we go home? All these Santas are creeping me out.”

And thus ended the introduction of Kris Kingsley as Hampton Cove’s new Santa. When I got home, Max and Dooley were nowhere to be found, but by the time I returned to stuff their stockings with goodies and treats, they were both on the rug again, looking exhausted and cold. Just as I was stuffing Dooley’s sock, Max opened his eyes. I placed my finger againstmy lips and gestured at Dooley, who was the baby in the Poole cat menagerie, and still believed in Santa. Max nodded and smiled happily, then went right back to sleep. I had no idea what they’d been up to, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they’d tried to catch a glimpse of Santa. I could have told them they were about to meet Santa in the flesh, as Mom had invited Kris to spend Christmas with us tomorrow. At least when he was done with all the activities the council had planned for him.

And as I lay my head on my pillow, Chase snuggled up to me.

“Finally,” he muttered. “I thought you’d never get back, Miss Spume.”

“Had to get the cats their Christmas treats, Mr. Chaser,” I said, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

“You really love those cats, don’t you?”

“I do,” I admitted. “They’re my babies.”

“So you still want me to sneak out of here undetected before dawn?”

“Yes, I do.” I wanted Max and Dooley to get used to the idea of Chase moving in, and something told me that might take some time.

“The things I do for love,” murmured Chase.

“Love?” I asked, a ripple of excitement trembling through me.

But the big, burly cop had fallen asleep again. Love. Now if that wasn’t a Christmas miracle.

5. PURRFECT CRIME

Prologue

Donna Bruce was a woman profoundly in love with herself. From personal experience she knew there was no other person as amazing as she was. She was smart, successful, beautiful, and, above all, she was kind to humans, children and dogs, which cannot be said about everyone. She was a giver, not a taker. In fact she gave so much she often wondered if people appreciated her enough.

Her kids, for instance, could probably love her more for all the sacrifices she had made. For one thing, they’d pretty much ruined her figure. After the twins were born, something strange but not very wonderful had happened to her hips. They’d never looked the same again. And when she saw what breastfeeding did to her boobs, she’d vowed never to fall into that horrible trap again.

She now carefully tucked her golden tresses beneath the pink shower cap, wrapped the white towel embroidered with her company’s crest—a nicely rendered tiara—around her perfectly toned and tanned body, and stepped into the sauna cabin. She had the cabin installed only six months ago as a special treat to herself when donna.vip, the lifestyle website she’d launched a decade ago, had topped 200 million in revenue.

She languidly stretched out on the authentic Finnish wood bench, took a sip from her flute of Mo?t& Chandon Dom Perignon, and closed her eyes. She’d just done a conference call with her CEO and now it was time to relax. Later today she had a session with her private fitness coach scheduled, and to top it all off she was going to treat herself to a healing massage as well. Time to get pampered!

And she’d just reached that slightly drowsy state she enjoyed so much when a soft clanking sound attracted her attention. She opened her eyes and saw through the slight haze that filled the cabin that there was someone moving about outside.

She frowned, wondering who it could be. Her housekeeper Jackie wasn’t coming in until ten, and the rest of the staff knew better than to intrude on her alone time. It was hard to make out the person’s face, as the one small window was all steamed up. With a grunt of annoyance she got up and wiped her hand across the glass to look out. And that’s when she noticed something very disturbing: the person was wearing a mask of some kind. One of those silly Halloween masks.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she called out.

But the intruder just stood there, unmoving, staring at her through the black mask that covered his or her entire face.

“Who are you?” she asked. “Answer me at once!”

When the person didn’t respond, she shook her head and took a firm grip on the wood door handle, giving it a good yank. The door didn’t budge. She tried again, knowing that these sauna doors could be sticky, but to no avail. And that’s when she saw that someone—presumably the masked person outside—had stuck a long object through the door’s handle, blocking it. It was her long handle loofah, the one she’d intended to take into the sauna with her.

“Hey! This isn’t funny!” she cried, tapping the pane furiously. “Open this door right now!”

And that’s when the masked figure reacted for the first time by raising a hand and pointing a finger at her, cocking their thumb and making a shooting gesture. And in that exact moment, she became aware of an odd sound that seemed to come from somewhere above her head. A buzzing sound. She looked up in alarm, and when she saw the first dozen bees streaming into the sauna cabin, she uttered a cry of shock and fear.

She rapped the window again, more frantic this time.“Let me out! Why are you doing this to me?! Just let me out of here!”

More bees fluttered into the cramped space and soon started filling it. There must have been hundreds, or maybe even thousands! And as they descended upon her, she felt the first stings. She started swatting them away with her towel, but there were too many of them, and for some reason they seemed drawn to her, whipped into a frenzy by some unknown cause. And as she stumbled and fell, desperately flapping her hands in a bid to get rid of the pesky insects, she soon succumbed. Her final thought, before she lost consciousness was,“Why me?!”

Chapter 1

Having spent most of the night outside, looking up at the stars and commenting to Dooley on their curious shape, attending a meeting of cat choir in the nearby Hampton Cove Park, and generally contemplating the state of the world and my place in it, I was ready to perform my daily duty and make sure my human Odelia Poole got a bright and early start on her day. I do this by jumping up onto her bed, plodding across Odelia’s sleeping form, and finally kneading her arm until she wakes up and gives me a cuddle. This has been our morning ritual since just about forever.

When I finally reached the top of the stairs, slightly winded, a pleasant sound emanating from the bedroom filled me with a warm and fuzzy feeling of benevolence: Odelia was softly snoring, indicating she was in urgent need of a wake-up catcall. So I padded over, and jumped up onto the foot of the bed. At least, that was my intention, only for some reason I must have misjudged the distance, for instead of landing on all fours on the bed, I landed on my butt on the bedside rug.

I shook my head, happy that no one saw me in this awkward position. With a slight shrug of the shoulders, I decided to try again. This time the result was even worse. I never even cleared the bed frame, let alone the mattress or the comforter. Like an Olympic pole vaulter who discovers he’s lost the ability, I suddenly found myself facing a new and horrifying reality: I couldn’t jump anymore!

“Hey, Max,” a familiar voice sounded behind me. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, Dooley?” I grumbled. “I’m trying to jump into bed!”

He paused, then asked,“So why are you still on the floor?”

“Because…” I stared up at the bed, which all of a sudden had turned into an insurmountable obstacle for some reason. “Actually I don’t know what’s going on. The bed just seems higher now.”

“A sudden weakness,” Dooley decided knowingly. “It happens to me all the time.”

“Well, it doesn’t happen to me,” I said, scratching my head. Yes, cats scratch their heads. We just make sure we retract our claws, otherwise it would be a fine mess.

“You probably need food. Did you have breakfast? When I don’t have my breakfast I feel weak. Do you feel weak?”

I gave him my best scowl.“I feel fine. And for your information, yes, I did have my breakfast. The best kibble money can buy and a nice chunk of chicken and liver pat?.”

“Wow, what happened?”

“What do you mean, what happened?”

“I thought Odelia only got you the cheap stuff? Why did she go out and splurge all of a sudden?”

“I guess she felt I deserved it. I have been helping her solve murder case after murder case lately.”

“Me too, but I didn’t get any special treats.”

“You have to file your complaint with Gran, Dooley. She is your human, after all.”

Dooley’s Ragamuffin face sagged. “Gran has been too busy to notice me lately.”

“Too busy? Why, what’s she been up to?”

“Beats me. She’s been receiving packages in the mail. A lot of them. In fact Marge and Tex are pretty much fed up with her. Seems like they’re the ones who have to pay for all those packages.”

Perhaps now would be a good time to make some introductions, especially for the people who haven’t been following my adventures closely. My name is Max, as you have probably deduced, and I’m something of a private cat sleuth. Since Odelia is a reporter and always in need of fresh and juicy stories, I’m only too happy to supply them. My frequent collaborator on these outings is Dooley, my best friend and neighbor. Dooley’s human is Vesta Muffin, Odelia’s grandmother who lives next door. Dooley is my wingcat. My partner in crime. Between you and me, Dooley is not exactly the brightest bulb in the bulb shop, so it’s a good thing he’s got me. I’m smart enough for the both ofus.

“Why don’t I give you a paw up?” Dooley asked now.

“I don’t know…” I muttered. I glanced behind Dooley, making sure he was alone. If we were going to do this, I didn’t want there to be any witnesses.

Dooley followed my gaze.“What are you looking at?” Then he got it. “Oh, if you’re looking for Harriet, she was fast asleep in Brutus’s paws. Those two must have had a rough night.”

My face clouded. Being reminded of Brutus usually has a souring effect on my mood. You see, Brutus is what us cats call an intruder. He came waltzing into our lives a couple of weeks ago and has refused to leave ever since. He belongs to Chase Kingsley, a cop Odelia has taken a liking to, but seems to spend an awful lot of time next door, cozying up to Harriet, Odelia’s mom’s white Persian.

I made up my mind.“Let’s do this,” I grunted. If we didn’t, Odelia might wake up of her own accord, and I’d miss my window of opportunity to put in some much-needed snuggle time.

Dooley padded up to me and plunked down on his haunches.“How do you want to do this?”

“Simple. I jump and you give me a boost.”

“You mean, like, on the count of three or something?”

“Or something.” I got ready, poised at the foot of the bed and said, “One—two—”

“Wait,” Dooley said. “Are we doing this on three or after three?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do I boost you on three, or right after?”

“Why would you boost me right after? The count of three usually means the count of three, Dooley.”

“So, one, two, three and boost? Or one, two, three, pause, and then boost?”

“One, two, three, boost,” I said, starting to lose my patience. “Now, are we doing this or not?”

He thought about this for a moment, a puzzled look on his face.“Do you want to do this?”

“Of course I want to do this! Preferably before we die of old age.”

Dooley’s eyes went wide. “Die of old age? Do you think we’re dying, Max?!”

“No, we’re not dying! I just want to put in some snuggle time, is that so hard to understand?”

“Oh, right,” he said, understanding dawning. “I thought you said we were dying.”

For some reason Dooley has been obsessing about dying lately. Usually I can talk him out of it, but then he sees something on TV and the whole thing starts all over again.

“Are you ready?”

Dooley nodded.“I’m ready, Max.”

“One—two—”

“Wait!”

I groaned.“What is it now?”

“Where do I boost you?”

“Up the bed! Where else?”

“No, I mean, do I boost your butt or your hind paws or what? I’m new to this boosting business,” he explained apologetically.

“It’s not exactly an Olympic discipline, Dooley. There are no rules. You can boost me wherever you want.” On second thought… “Though stay away from my butt.”

“Right. Stay away from your butt. So where…”

“Anywhere but my butt! Now one—two—”

“Max!”

“What?!”

“What if I boost you too hard and you end up flying across the bed and down the other side?”

I fixed him with a hard look.“Trust me, Dooley, the chances of that happening are slim to none. I mean, look at us. I’m like the Dwayne Johnson of cats and you’re more like Andrew Garfield inHacksaw Ridge, all scrawny and mangy. You’ll be lucky if you can boost me a couple inches, which is all I need,” I hastened to add.

“Do you think I’m too mangy?” asked Dooley with a frown.

“Not too mangy. You’re just thin is all. A very healthy thin.”

“Not a sickly thin? Like an I’m-about-to-die thin?”

Oh, God. I did not need this aggravation.“Absolutely not. More like a my-name-is-Gwyneth-Paltrow-and-I’m-willowy-and-gorgeous kind of thin.”

“I thought you said I looked like Andrew Garfield?”

“In a very Gwyneth Paltrow-y way.”

This seemed to please him, as he gave me a grateful smile.“Why, thanks, Max. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Great. Now about that boost?”

“Oh! Right! I forgot all about that.”

“Focus, Dooley. Now, are you ready?”

“Ready,” he said, his face a study in concentration.

“One—two—three—”

“Boost!” he cried and placed both paws on my butt, giving me a mighty shove.

And… we had liftoff! Only it didn’t last very long, nor did it carry me where I was aiming to go. Instead, I plunked right back down again, landing on top of Dooley, who ended up squeezed beneath my sizable buns.

There was a momentary pause, while we both figured out what went wrong, then Dooley croaked,“Can you please lift your butt, Max? You’re choking me!”

Applause broke out behind us, and a loud cackling sound, and when I looked up, I saw we’d been joined by Harriet and Brutus. The latter was applauding, a Draco Malfoy-type sneer on his mug, and Harriet was doing the cackling, apparently finding the whole scene hilarious.

“What’s so funny?” I asked with an angry look at the newly arrived.

“You!” Brutus cried. “You’re so fat you can’t even jump on the bed!”

“I’m not fat! I’m just… experiencing some issues with my takeoff.”

“Issues with your takeoff! You’re not an airplane, Max. You’re a cat. A cat too fat to fly!” Harriet dissolved into giggles while Brutus was laughing so hard his belly shook.

“Max!” Dooley breathed. “You’re… choking… me…”

I released Dooley by lifting my butt, then resumed my scowling.“I’m not fat—I’m big-boned. There’s a difference. And Odelia probably bought a new bed, that’s all. I never had any trouble jumping into the old bed, which was still here yesterday morning. Isn’t that right Dooley?”

But Dooley was still catching his breath, taking big gulps of it.

“That’s the exact same bed as always,” said Brutus. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Girlfriend stealer.”

I rolled my eyes.“Here we go again.”

Brutus had walked up to me and poked my chest with his paw.“You kissed my girlfriend, Max. I saw you so don’t try to deny it.”

“I didn’t kiss anyone! She kissed me!”

“That’s what you say.”

“Because that’s what happened!”

He leaned in and dropped his voice to a whisper.“I thought we had an understanding, Max. I thought you and I were friends. And then you went and did a thing like that.” He pursed his lips. “You’re despicable. There’s no other word for it.”

“I didn’t kiss her,” I hissed. “She kissed me. I’m not even interested in Harriet!”

“What are you two whispering about?” Harriet asked with a laugh.

“Nothing, honey bunch,” said Brutus in his sweetest voice. “Just clearing up some stuff.”

“Max is right, Brutus,” Dooley loud-whispered. “Harriet kissed him, not the other way around. And he didn’t even like it, did you, Max?” These last words were spoken with a look of reproach in my direction. Dooley has always fancied Harriet, and he cannot grasp being kissed by that divinefeline and not enjoying the experience.

“I heard you,” said Harriet, tripping up deftly. “And for your information, I didn’t kiss Max.”

“See?!” Brutus exclaimed triumphantly.

“My Inner Goddess did.”

“What?!”

Harriet raised her chin defiantly.“I can’t be held responsible for every little thing my Inner Goddess does, Brutus. Sometimes she wears a blindfold. I thought I was kissing you, actually. I only realized my mistake when I reached out and the only thing my paw met was a yielding fluffiness where rock-hard muscles should have been.”

Brutus stared at her.“Go on.”

She placed a paw on his chest and closed her eyes.“See, now that I’m feeling your steely pecs I know it’s you. That was my mistake. I kissed first and touched later.”

I groaned loudly.“Yielding fluffiness?!”

“Shut up, Max,” said Brutus. “Watch and learn.”

And then the two of them locked lips. Instinctively I held up a paw to cover Dooley’s eyes. He did not have to see this. He seemed to appreciate the gesture, for he didn’t slap my paw away. He only asked, when the smooching sounds finally abated, “Is it over yet?”

“Yes, it is,” I said, lowering my paw. Harriet had kissed me, no doubt about it, but if it made her feel better to lie to both herself and to Brutus, it was fine by me. I didn’t need Brutus going back to his old bullying ways. This d?tente we had going for us suited me fine, so I was happy when finally the kissing stopped and Brutus slapped me on the back.

“And that’s how you do it, buddy!”

“Great,” I muttered. “Now, can you give me a boost? I need to wake up Odelia.”

“Sure thing,” said Brutus, suddenly in an expansive mood. And as I got ready to take the leap again, he got into position directly behind me, not unlike a running back. And before I could initiate the launch sequence, Brutus was shouting, “Hut one—hut two—hut three—go!”

I made the mighty jump and… “Owowowow!” Brutus, instead of giving me a regular boost, had dug his nails into my behind! The result was that I flew up onto the bed and landed right on top of Odelia’s sleeping form, and it wasn’t a soft landing either.

“Ooph!” Odelia grunted, when a flying blorange obstacle landed squarely on her stomach. She stared down at me. “Max! Where’s the fire?!”

I gave her a sheepish look.“Wakey-wakey.”

I directed a scathing look at Brutus, who gave me a grin.“See, Max? I knew you could do it!”

Chapter 2

“So then Brutus gave me a boost and that’s how I ended up on your stomach,” I finished my account of the recent events.

Odelia, who’s blond and petite with the most strikingly green eyes, tied the sash of her bathrobe and gave me a worried look. “I better make that appointment with Vena. I knew I should never have put it off.”

My eyes widened to the size of saucers, which for us cats is considerable, since our eyes are a lot smaller than a human’s eyes to begin with. “Not Vena!”

“Yes, Vena. With everything that’s been going on I totally forgot to make a new appointment but it’s obvious now that she was right all along.” She placed a comforting hand on my head. “You’re overweight, Max. Totally overweight, and I’ve got no one else to blame but myself.”

“I’m not overweight. I’m just… big-boned. It runs in the family.”

“It’s for your own good,” she said. “If you don’t start dieting again, you’ll just get in trouble.”

“I won’t get in trouble, I promise!” I cried. Anything not to have to go to Vena, who is just about the vet from hell. For some reason she loves sticking me with needles and suggesting to Odelia that she feed me kibble that tastes like cardboard. The woman is my own personal tormentor.

“It’s not your fault,” Odelia said as she started down the stairs. “I indulge you. I keep buying those snacks that you like so much and I probably overfeed you, too.”

“No, you don’t,” I said, desperate now. I trotted after her, my paws sounding heavy on the stairs. “I only eat the bare minimum as it is. In fact I’m always hungry.”

She paused and listened to the pounding my paws made on the stairs.“You hear that? That’s not normal, Max. You’re not supposed to walk like that.”

“Like what?” I asked, pausing midstep.

“Like an elephant trampling in the brush.”

“I don’t sound like an elephant trampling in the brush,” I said indignantly, but made an effort to tread a little lighter. Only problem was, it’s hard to tread lightly when you’re going downhill. Gravity, you know.

“And Vena said that when you get too big it’s bad for your heart. Fat tissue builds up around the organ and that’s not a good thing.”

“My heart is just fine,” I promised, tapping my chest. “Healthy as an ox!”

“And you look like one, too,” said Brutus. The black cat was right behind me, and obviously enjoying the conversation tremendously.

“I’ve booked you an appointment, too, by the way, Brutus,” said Odelia now.

We’d reached the bottom of the stairs and she walked into the kitchen to start up the coffeemaker. How people can drink that black sludge is beyond me, but then a lot of stuff humans do makes no sense at all. Like putting a perfectly healthy cat on a diet!

“Me!” cried Brutus. “Why me?!”

“Because Chase told me he doesn’t remember the last time you went. So it might as well have been never.” She frowned. “Though you are neutered, so you must have gone at least once.”

A deep blush crept up Brutus’s features. At least I think it did. It was hard to be sure with all that dark hair covering his visage. He cut a quick look at Harriet, who pretended she hadn’t heard. “I, um—I’m sure that’s not possible,” he said now.

“That you’re neutered or that you didn’t go to the vet in years?” Odelia asked deftly, taking a cup and saucer from the cupboard over the sink.

Brutus appeared to be shrinking before my very eyes, a sight I enjoyed a lot, I have to say.“Both,” he said curtly, now actively avoiding Harriet’s cool gaze.

“Don’t worry, Brutus,” said Dooley. “We’re all neutered. Max is neutered. I am neutered. Even Harriet is neutered. Isn’t that right, Harriet?”

“None of your beeswax,” Harriet snapped.

“Beeswaxed?” asked Dooley. “I’m pretty sure the right word is neutered.”

“Dooley!” Harriet said with a warning glare.

“What? What did I say?”

“Oh, come off it, you guys,” said Odelia, crouching down. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about. If you weren’t neutered I’m sure we’d have a fresh litter every couple of months, and we can’t have that now, can we?”

“I don’t see why not,” Harriet muttered. It was obviously still a sore point.

“Because I can’t take care of so many cats,” Odelia said softly. “You see that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, just do the math,” said Dooley. “Three litters a year times eight kittens a litter that’s…” He frowned, looking goofy for a moment, then said, “… a heck of a lot of cats!”

“It is,” said Odelia. “And I’d just end up having to bring them to the shelter. And I don’t need to tell you what happens to cats that end up at the animal shelter, do I?”

“They are adopted by loving humans?” Dooley ventured.

“They die, Dooley,” Brutus growled. “They all die.”

Dooley uttered a cry of horror and staggered back a few paces.“No, they don’t!”

“Oh, yes, they do. And then they’re turned into sausages and people eat them!”

“Brutus!” Odelia said. “Don’t scare Dooley.” She gave Dooley a comforting pat on the back. “They’re not turned into sausages. But they’re not adopted, either, I’m afraid. At least not all of them. Though I’m sure a lot of them find warm and loving families.”

“See!” Dooley cried triumphantly. “They’re all placed with their very own Odelias!”

“Thanks,” said Odelia, rising to her feet. “Now about Vena…”

Lucky for us the bell rang at that exact moment, and Gran came rushing in through the glass sliding door, looking like she was about to lay an egg.

“Is he here?!” Gran croaked anxiously. “Is he here?!”

“Is who here?” asked Odelia, moving to the front door.

“The UPS guy, of course!”

Gran is a white-haired little old lady, but even though she looks like sweetness incarnate, she’s quite a pistol.

“See?” asked Dooley, turning to me. “This is what I told you.”

“What did you tell me?” I asked. The morning had already been so traumatizing my mind had actively started to repress the memories.

“About Gran ordering a bunch of stuff online and Marge and Tex having to pay for it.”

Odelia had opened the door and Dooley was right: a pimply teenager in a brown uniform with‘UPS’ on his chest stood before her, a big, bulky package in his hands. “Vesta Muffin?” he asked.

“That’s me!” Gran squealed and darted forward, grabbed the package from the teenager’s hands and ran to the living room with it.

Odelia signed for the package and sent the kid on his way.“What’s going on, Gran?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing,” said Gran, eagerly tearing open the package.

We all gathered around, and since it’s hard to see anything from the floor, we all hopped up onto the chairs to have a good look at this mysterious package.

Gran, licking her lips, finally succeeded in ripping away the packaging, and before us lay three shiny green eggs. Huh.

“Gran,” said Odelia in her warning voice. It’s the voice she likes to use when me or Dooley have been up to no good, which, obviously, practically never happens.

“What?” asked Gran innocently. “I need them. I’m dating again.”

What a bunch of green eggs had to do with dating was beyond me, but, like I said, humans are weird. And in my personal experience no human is weirder than Gran.

“You’re dating again?” asked Odelia. “I thought that after Leo you were done with all of that.”

Leo was a horny old man that Gran used to run around with. We kept bumping into them in the weirdest places, practicing the weirdest positions. All very disturbing.

“Done with dating?” asked Gran indignantly. “Oh, the horror! How can anyone be done with dating? Didn’t anyone ever tell you that sex only gets better with age?”

“Like a fine wine,” said Dooley, though I doubted he knew what he was talking about.

“The only thing that doesn’t improve is my hoo-hee. Which is why I need these.”

“What is a hoo-hee?” asked Dooley innocently.

Odelia blushed slightly.“Nothing you should concern yourself with, Dooley.”

“You don’t know what a hoo-hee is?” asked Gran, raising an eyebrow. “What about hoo-ha? Lady bits? Fine China? Lady garden? Vajayjay?”

Dooley shook his head.“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Gran laughed.“You’re funny, Dooley. Doesn’t ring a bell. I’ll bet it doesn’t ring your bell, but it sure as heck rung Leo’s bell, and there’s plenty of Leos out there.”

“I’ll just bet there are,” Odelia muttered, picking up one of the green eggs. “So how do you use these?” Then she noticed four pairs of cat eyes following her every movement and she put the egg down again. “Never mind. I’m sure I don’t want to know.”

“And I’m sure you do,” said Gran. “If you want to entertain your fellow you need to practice the fine art of the jade egg, honey.”

“Something to do with energy and healing, right?” asked Odelia with a frown.

Gran threw her head back and laughed.“Of course not! It’s all about training those pelvic muscles. You want to get a good grip on your fella’s…” She cast a quick look at Dooley. “… fella. Increase the pleasure—his and yours. Trust me,” she said as she placed one of the green eggs in the palm of Odelia’s hand, “you’ll make your man very, very happy.”

“That happy, huh?” asked Odelia as she rolled the smooth green egg in her hand.

“Happier,” said Gran as she let the other two eggs disappear into the pockets of her dress. She gestured at the box. “Can you let this disappear, honey? Your mom and dad don’t need to know.”

“Wait a minute,” said Odelia. “You’re not going to have this… stuff arrive here from now on, are you?”

“Of course I am. I hate to break it to you, Odelia, but your parents are ageists. They think just because I’m old I’m all shriveled up down there.” She patted her granddaughter on the cheek. “Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact I’m pretty sure I get more nookie than those dried-up old prunes.”

“Hey, that’s my parents you’re talking about.”

“I know, which is why I’m so glad you’re nothing like them. You wouldn’t stand in the way of your grandmother enjoying her golden years, would you?”

“No, but…”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” She gave Odelia a fat wink. “Stick around, kid. You may learn a trick or two from this old dame.”

And with these words, she practically galloped through the sliding door and disappeared into the garden, no doubt eager to start practicing those eggs on her hoo-hee, whatever a hoo-hee was.

For a long moment, silence reigned, then Odelia said,“Right. I think I’ll just put that egg away, shall I?”

“So what is it for, exactly?” asked Harriet.

Odelia produced an awkward smile.“Decorative purposes?”

Harriet narrowed her eyes at her.“A decorative egg is going to make Chase very, very happy?”

“Yes, it will,” Odelia trudged on bravely. “Chase likes a nicely decorated… room.”

She was backtracking towards the staircase, and we all watched her go. Then, suddenly, she turned around and popped up the stairs. We heard her rummage around in her bedroom, a drawer opening and closing. Those drawers contained a lot of funny-looking stuff. Amongst other things, they also contained a small battery-powered rocket, though I had no idea why Odelia would need a pocket rocket in her bedroom.

Moments later, she returned, still that sheepish look on her face.

Humans. They’re just too weird.

Just then, the doorbell rang again.

“More eggs?” asked Harriet acerbically.

But when Odelia went to open the door, it was her uncle. Chief of Police Alec Lip. Like me, Chief Alec is big-boned. And, also like me, he’s a great guy. Always ready with a smile or a kind remark, which makes him real popular with the locals. He wasn’t smiling now, though, and when he opened his mouth to speak, it soon became clear why. “There’s been a murder. A really nasty one.”

Chapter 3

Odelia put the four cats in her old Ford pickup and followed Uncle Alec as he set the course in his police cruiser.

“So who died?” asked Max, who’d crawled up on the passenger seat, as was his habit when there was no one else in the car. No other humans, at least.

“A woman named Donna Bruce,” said Odelia, anxiously peering through the windshield. “She’s the one who sold Gran those green eggs.”

“She’s a farmer?” asked Max.

“No, she’s not a farmer. She’s a former actress who now runs a lifestyle website. A very popular one.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s happening in this town. It’s just one murder after another. If this keeps up, no tourists are going to want to come here anymore.”

“Why did Uncle Alec say it was a nasty murder?” asked Dooley from the backseat.

“Because the woman was murdered in a gruesome way.”

She could hear Dooley gulp. Gran’s cat was a sensitive plant when it came to things like murder, and she was starting to wonder if it was such a good idea to bring him along. Max, she knew, could handle himself, and so could Brutus and Harriet. But Dooley was the baby of the cat menagerie, and sometimes got spooked by his own shadow. “Maybe you better wait in the car, Dooley,” she suggested. “While the others snoop around.”

“But I want to snoop around, too,” said Dooley. “I love snooping around.”

She smiled. That was obvious. All her cats loved snooping around, which was why she took them along in the first place. They often talked to other pets, or even pets that belonged to the victims, and had proved invaluable when ferreting out clues.

Her uncle Alec was aware of this unique talent. Chase? Not so much, though by now he was used to this quirky side of her personality. He even thought it was cute. She’d never told him she could communicate with her cats, though, and probably never would. He might not take it too well.

She thought about Chase and a warm and fuzzy feeling spread through her chest. She’d never thought she would fall for the rugged cop but she had. And by the looks of things, he liked her, too, which was a real boon. They even shared a comfortable working relationship now, which was very different from the way things were when they first met. The burly cop, a recent transplant from the NYPD, wasn’t used to nosy reporters investigating a bunch of crimes alongside him. Fortunately she’d quickly proven her worth, and now he was more than happy to allow her to tag along.

As if he’d read her mind, Max asked, “So how are things between you and Chase?”

“Yeah,” Harriet chimed in. “When are you going to get married?”

She saw how Max and Dooley shared a quick look of panic and laughed.“Hold your horses, young lady. Who said anything about me and Chase getting married?”

“It’s all over town,” said Harriet with a shrug. “All the cats are talking about it.”

“Which means all the Hampton Covians are talking about it,” Max said.

That was true enough. The Hampton Cove cat community was like a barometer of the human community. She blushed slightly.“So what are they saying, exactly?”

“Well, that the wedding will take place later this year, though it might be sooner rather than later because the first baby is already underway.” The gorgeous Persian screwed up her face. “What is a shotgun wedding, Odelia?”

Odelia’s blush deepened. “A shotgun wedding? Is that what they’re saying?”

All four cats nodded.“I think it means that everybody brings a shotgun to the wedding,” said Brutus knowingly.

“Don’t be an idiot,” said Max. “Why would anyone bring a shotgun to a wedding? That’s just dumb.”

“Who are you calling dumb, fatso? They’re obviously bringing shotguns to make sure nobody crashes the wedding. Duh.”

“Crashes the wedding?” asked Dooley. “Is that even a thing?”

“Didn’t you see that movie last week?Wedding crashers? Two guys go around crashing weddings and having a blast,” said Brutus.

“Until they fall in love and get married themselves,” said Harriet. “I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. Though I didn’t like that they portrayed Bradley Cooper as such a nasty person. I like Bradley Cooper. He’s so handsome and cute.”

“He’s not that handsome,” said Brutus. “His mouth is too big for his face.”

“It is not. His mouth is just the right size.”

“The right size for what?” scoffed Brutus. “To load a Big Mac in one bite?”

“Listen, you guys,” said Odelia, interrupting this fascinating discussion of Bradley Cooper’s face. “For one thing, Chase and I are not getting married. And for another, I’m not pregnant so there won’t be a shotgun wedding.”

“That’s too bad,” said Harriet, her face falling. “I was looking forward to being a bridesmaid.”

“That’s impossible,” said Max. “Cats can’t be bridesmaids. That’s just preposterous.”

Harriet narrowed her eyes.“What are you saying, Max? That I wouldn’t make a wonderful bridesmaid? For your information, I would be the perfect bridesmaid. I don’t even have to wear a dress. I’m beautiful just the way I am.”

Odelia smiled.“That’s true. And if I ever get married, you guys will all get to come.”

Max groaned.“Do I have to? I hate weddings. Everybody is always crying. Those things are even worse than funerals.”

“People are crying because they’re happy, Max,” said Odelia. “Those are happy tears.”

“I don’t get it,” said the blorange cat. “Why cry when you’re happy? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Yes, it does,” said Harriet. “You wouldn’t understand, though, Max. And that’s because you’re a Neanderthal.”

“No, I’m not,” said Max. “I’m a cat, not a Neanderthal.”

“What’s a Neanderthal?” asked Dooley.

“It’s a kind of old human,” said Max. “With a lot of hair and a big mouth.”

“Like Bradley Cooper,” said Brutus.

“Bradley Cooper is not a Neanderthal!” Harriet snapped. “Bradley Cooper is gorgeous.”

“More gorgeous than me?” asked Brutus, stung.

Harriet’s face softened. “Of course not, cutie pie. Nobody can be more gorgeous than you.”

“Maybeyou should have one of those shotgun weddings,” Max grumbled. “So I can bring a shotgun and shoot myself.”

“We’re here,” said Odelia cheerfully, cutting off all this nonsense about a shotgun wedding. She just hoped those rumors hadn’t reached her mother’s ears. Nobody likes to hear about their daughter’s supposed pregnancy and forced wedding because of gossip. Then again, maybe it was a goodthing. If people thought she and Chase were about to get married, she should probably take it as a compliment. Though the town’s gossip mill was obviously getting a little ahead of itself this time around.

True, there had been a lot of kissing lately, but things hadn’t progressed beyond that. Yet. Did she want them to go beyond that stage? Maybe. Did Chase want to? She had absolutely no idea. Chase was one of those strong, silent types. The ones that don’t wear their hearts on their sleeves. Beyond those kisses they had yet to address whatever it was that was going on between them. Heck, he hadn’t even asked her out. Maybe he never would? Maybe those kisses were just a way of showing his appreciation for all she’d done for the community? Maybe it was an NYPD thing: instead of shaking hands, NYPD cops simply kissed their colleagues. It was definitely not something she’d ever seen onNYPD Blue. Then again, they never showed everything on those shows.

She parked right behind her uncle’s squad car and got out, allowing the four cats to jump from their respective seats.

“Let’s go, guys,” she said. “You know the drill. Talk to witnesses. Try to find out what happened here.”

She watched the cats traipse up to the house and smiled. Her own personal feline detective squad. She wouldn’t know what to do without them.

She watched her uncle take off his sunglasses and take in their surroundings. Donna Bruce had done well for herself, that much was obvious. The house was built in hacienda style, with a low red-tile roof and stuccoed orange outer walls.

“Nice place,” said Uncle Alec admiringly. “Though more like something one would expect in the Hollywood Hills than out here in Hampton Cove.”

“Isn’t Donna originally from Los Angeles?”

“She is. She only moved out here to put some distance between herself and her ex-husband. And because her company is headquartered in New York.”

“This is such a coincidence,” Odelia said as she watched the police activity around the house. Half a dozen squad cars were haphazardly parked on the circular driveway, and an ambulance stood, lights flashing, indicating the coroner was already there.

“What is?” asked her uncle, hoisting his pants over his bulk and patting down his few strands of hair.

“Just this morning a package arrived from donna.vip for your mother.”

Chief Alec closed his eyes.“God, not again. I thought Marge put a stop to that nonsense.”

“What nonsense?”

“Didn’t she tell you? Your grandmother has been ordering those packages for weeks now. She’s addicted to that Donna crap. And the worst part? Your mom has been footing the bill as Vesta doesn’t have a credit card. Marge told me she’s up to five grand now.”

Odelia’s jaw dropped. “Five grand!”

“Yeah, for a bunch of useless stuff. According to Marge she even bought one of those steamers for her, um, well, you know what.”

Odelia frowned.“A vegetable steamer?”

Uncle Alec suddenly looked uncomfortable.“Not exactly. She uses it on her… business.”

“Her business?”

He heaved an exasperated groan.“Her lady parts, all right?”

Odelia smiled.“She bought a vaginal steamer?” Uncle Alec grumbled something under his breath as he stalked off. She hurried to keep up with him. “No wonder Mom is mad. That stuff must cost a fortune.”

“And it’s not as if she needs it,” said her uncle. “I mean, she’s seventy-five, for crying out loud. What does she need a vaginal steamer for?”

“Well, she does have a very active sex life.”

Uncle Alec winced. He directed a pleading look at his niece.“Please, Odelia. I don’t need to hear all that.”

Which was probably why Mom had allowed this buying frenzy to go on as long as it had. Nobody wanted to sit down with Gran and have a serious conversation about her sex life. It wasn’t a topic one simply launched into.

“I’ll talk to Gran,” she promised. “Tell her to ease up on the spending.”

“You do that,” her uncle grumbled.

They walked into the house and Odelia admired her surroundings. Donna Bruce had taste, that much was obvious. The foyer had a homey feel, with its hardwood floors, soft pink wallpaper and white lacquered furniture. And as they progressed into the living room and then the kitchen, she had to admit she wouldn’t mind living in a place like this. Selling jade eggs and vaginal steamers had obviously been very lucrative for the founder of donna.vip.

They reached the spa area, where a small indoor pool awaited them, along with the sauna cabin where Donna’s housekeeper had found the body of her employer that morning.

“You better prepare yourself for a shock,” said Uncle Alec. “It’s not a pretty sight.”

She braced herself and stepped into the sauna. Donna Bruce was lying on the floor, partly covered by a towel, her face swollen beyond recognition. Every part of her body that was visible had suffered the same fate. The woman had literally been stung to death.

She swallowed.“How—how did they get the bees in here?”

Uncle Alec gestured at the fan that was placed in the ceiling.“They reversed the airflow and placed an entire batch of bees on top of it. The little beasties must have been pretty pissed off when they were propelled past the fan’s blades and into this extremely hot environment. They simply attacked the first thing they came into contact with. Which was Donna Bruce.”

“I’m guessing she died from anaphylactic shock,” said the coroner, who was standing in a corner, picking up the body of a dead bee and dumping it into a plastic baggie. Abe Cornwall was a shabbily-dressed man with frizzy gray hair but he was an ace medical examiner. “Though judging from thestate of the body, she might have died from the venom itself. She must have sustained thousands of stings in a matter of minutes.”

“This entire cabin was full of bees when the housekeeper arrived,” Uncle Alec explained. “Thousands and thousands of them.”

“And there’s no question whether this was an accident or not?” asked Odelia.

“No way,” another male voice spoke.

She turned around with a smile, and got a small shock of pleasure when she found herself gazing into the gold-flecked chocolate eyes of Chase Kingsley. He filled the entire doorframe with his muscular physique, and the cabin with his powerful presence.“So it was definitely murder, huh?”

“Definitely,” said Chase with a smile of greeting.

“I’ll let you two kids come up with a theory as to who’s responsible,” said Uncle Alec. “I have to talk to the ex-husband about what to do with the kids.”

“The kids?” asked Odelia.

“Yeah.” Uncle Alec frowned at his notebook. “Sweetums and Honeychild. Good thing they weren’t here when it happened.”

“Oh, those poor babies,” said Odelia.

“Big babies,” said Uncle Alec. “Sweetums and Honeychild are six.” He shook his head. “Who gives their kid a name like that?”

“Donna Bruce,” said Chase, staring down at the victim. He glanced up at the chief. “So am I in charge of this thing, Chief?”

“Yes, you are,” said Chief Alec. “Along with Odelia—in an entirely unofficial capacity, of course.”

Chase gave her a grin.“Looks like the gang is back together, babe.”

She returned his smile.“Yay.”

Chapter 4

“Do you really think Odelia is getting married?” asked Dooley.

I shook my head.“No way. Odelia doesn’t lie. If she was getting married she would have told us. In fact I’m pretty sure we’d be the first to know.”

“But why is everybody saying she’s having this shotgun wedding?”

“People talk, Dooley. You know that and I know that. That’s what they do.”

He thought about this for a moment.“You know, you might be right, Max.”

“Of course I’m right. I’m always right. You should know that by now.”

We were walking around the back of the house. I don’t know what we were hoping to find, but at least something that would shed some light on what had happened here. And if we were really lucky, maybe even an eyewitness account of the murder with a nice description of the murderer. Humans might think they’re pretty smart by avoiding the attention of other humans when they’re out murdering each other, but they never give a second thought to the pets they encounter along the way.

Behind us, Harriet and Brutus were still engaged in their lover’s quarrel.

“I don’t see why you have to go and fall for this Bradley Cooper guy,” Brutus was saying. “Not only does he have the face of a Neanderthal but he’s human! Cats don’t fall for humans. That’s not natural, Harriet. And it’s humiliating for me as your boyfriend.”

“I just like his face,” said Harriet. “Is that so bad? He has a fascinating face.”

“A human face,” Brutus pointed out. “You can’t like a human face, sweet pea.”

“I can, too. You can’t tell me what I can and can’t like, Brutus. I’m a free cat.”

“Oh, is that why you were kissing Max the other day? Huh?”

She rolled her eyes.“Oh, God. Not again! I wasn’t kissing Max. I already told you what happened.”

“Yeah, you stubbed your toe and you tripped and fell and ended up hitting Max’s lips with yours. I know what you told me. I’m just telling you I’m not buying it. Who trips and hits another cat’s lips? That’s just crazy! Besides, why did you keep on kissing him for a full minute after that?”

She heaved an exasperated groan.“Like I said this morning, I thought he was you, sugar lump. Until I discovered he wasn’t and then I stopped.”

Brutus shook his head.“I don’t know, bunny duck. I just don’t know.”

“Oh, buttercup,” she said, taking his head in her paws. “You know I only love you. My very own cuddly daddy.”

At this, Brutus seemed to relent, his scowl melting away like butter on the griddle.“Oh, my snookums,” he purred. “Sweetie cakes.”

“Chocolate bunny.”

“Smoochie poo.”

And then, inevitably, there was smooching. A lot of smooching.

Dooley moaned.“Why do they have to do that right under our noses?!”

“Because they only have eyes for each other, Dooley,” I said. “Wait until you’re in love.”

“I’m never falling in love again,” said Dooley bitterly. “Love is a curse.”

We managed to put some distance between ourselves and the loved-up couple, and a good thing, too. Brutus has this competitive streak. Whenever there is a murder to solve, he wants to solve it first, and he doesn’t care what he has to do to ‘win.’

We’d arrived in the backyard and I raised an eyebrow in admiration. The yard was perfectly maintained, the grass as smooth as a pool table. An actual pool had been installed, with an actual pool house and a nice row of chaise lounges placed right next to it. It all looked very inviting, or it wouldhave if Dooley and I were human. As it was I didn’t care about pools. Not that I’m scared of pools. I just don’t like that they’re full of water. Water is wet.

And that’s when I saw them: two poodles, one brown, one beige, were lying on top of the chaise lounges, their eyes closed, enjoying some R&R.

“I think we might have our first witnesses,” I told Dooley, gesturing with my head to the two mutts.

“Dogs?” asked Dooley. “Why does it always have to be dogs? Why can’t rich people keep cats instead?”

“Because they think dogs are great for keeping the burglars away.”

“Cats keep burglars away,” Dooley argued. “In fact we’re better equipped for the task. We can see in the dark. Dogs can’t. And we have sharp claws. Dogs have those silly excuses for claws.”

“Dogs can bite,” I reminded him. “And they bark.”

“I meow! Have you heard my meow? I meow up a storm.”

“Not exactly the same, Dooley.”

The dogs had spotted us and had curled their upper lips up in a snarl, making that annoying threatening noise at the back of their throats. As if that was supposed to impress us. Puh-lease.

“Hey there, guys,” I said, walking up to the duo. “How’s it hanging?”

“And who are you?” asked the brown poodle, none too friendly.

“My name is Max,” I said by way of introduction. “You may have heard of me. I’m an ace feline detective. And I’m here to solve the murder.”

“Murder? What murder?” asked the beige one.

“The murder of your human? Don’t tell me no one told you.”

“Our human wasn’t murdered,” said the brown one. “She’s just sleeping. In the sauna. Isn’t that right, Rex?”

“That’s right, Rollo. She’s just taking a little nap in the sauna. I just saw her.”

“And I saw her, too.”

“She’s not sleeping,” said Dooley, venturing up with some trepidation. “She’s dead.”

Rex and Rollo shared a look of amusement, then burst out laughing.“No, she’s not,” said Rex. “You silly cat. You’re funny. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that humans have to sleep just like we do?”

“Yeah, and when they sleep they look dead but they aren’t,” Rollo added.

“Look, I’ve had a human since forever,” I said. “So you don’t have to teach me the difference between a dead human and a sleeping human. I know the difference. One is breathing and the other ain’t. And for your information, your human isn’t sleeping—she’s dead.”

“Cats,” said Rex, shaking his head. “They’re a real hoot.”

“Yeah. Think they know it all.”

They placed their chins on their front paws again and stared at us, quickly losing interest.

“So tell me why there are so many cops around?” I said, not giving up.

Rex shrugged.“Donna likes to invite people.”

“Yeah, Donna’s a real people person. Always hosting parties.”

“For the police?” I asked.

“Sure,” said Rollo. “Why not? Police are human, too. They like to party.”

“Only they’re not partying now, are they?” I asked, exasperated. “They’re examining the dead body of your human, trying to figure out who made her that way.”

Rex and Rollo shared another knowing look, then shook their heads with a smirk.“Cats,” Rollo repeated. “You gotta love them.”

“What about the ambulance parked out in front of the house?” Dooley asked.

“Oh, please,” said Rollo, rolling his eyes. “When you have a party, you have to have an ambulance. In case one of the guests suddenly gets sick.”

“Remember that party where all the guests got sick, Rollo?” asked Rex. “Remember that? That was some party.”

“We don’t mention that,” said Rollo sternly. “We never mention that party, Rex. That party never happened.”

“Oh. Right. Totally forgot about that.”

Rollo eyed us critically.“There was never any party where everybody got sick after eating the shrimp. And Donna never sued the caterer. Is that understood, cats?”

“My name is Max,” I reminded him.

“Whatever, cat,” said Rollo. “Now I think you better scram. I don’t remember seeing your name on the guest list. And if Donna finds out you’re trespassing and we’re allowing you, she’ll have something to say about it.”

“Oh, you think we should chase them off the premises, Rollo?” asked Rex.

Rollo thought about this for a moment.“Maybe we’ll just let them off with a warning this time.”

“Great,” said Rex with a smile. “I’m not in the mood for running around anyway.”

“Come on, you guys!” I said. “Your human is dead! You have to snap out of it and help us catch the killer!”

Rollo’s face clouded. “On second thought…”

“Uh-oh,” Dooley muttered.

Rollo turned to Rex.“Rex. You get the fat one. I’ll get the skinny one. Go!”

Good thing for us the dogs had more bark than bite. And more talk than dash. By the time Dooley and I had cleared the pool area, they were still nowhere near catching up with us.

“See?” asked Dooley, slightly out of breath as we hid under Odelia’s pickup. “That’s another advantage us cats have over dogs: we’re a lot faster!”

Or these two idiots were exceptionally slow, I thought as I saw Rex and Rollo appear around the corner and search around stupidly. Then, in perfect unison, they both plunked down on their haunches and started licking their private parts.

“Yuck,” Dooley muttered. “Imagine being the tongue of a dog. Just… yuck.”

“You lick your private parts,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, but I’m a cat. I’m naturally clean. Dogs are just filthy.”

He had a point, of course. Dogsare filthy, and catsare naturally clean.

“So now what?” I asked. “Our only potential witnesses are two dumb-ass dogs.”

“With the emphasis on ass,” said Dooley as he watched Rex and Rollo turn their attention from their private parts to a different, even filthier part of their canine anatomy.

“Let’s just hope Brutus and Harriet have better luck,” I said.

Just then, Brutus and Harriet emerged from inside the house. They were still gabbing away, probably discussing Bradley Cooper’s face and why it was off limits to cats. Rex and Rollo paused from their hygienic pursuit to gawk at the two newcomers.

“Uh-oh,” said Dooley. “Here we go.”

Within seconds, Brutus and Harriet had joined us underneath the car, scared off by those two idiot poodles, who were now sniffing around in the vicinity of the boxwood hedge.

“So? What did you find out?” I asked.

“That Bradley Cooper is the only human who looks good with a beard,” Brutus said morosely.

“Well, he does!” Harriet cried. “That man makes a beard look totally sexy.”

“Because it hides his big mouth!”

“It does not!”

Brutus, Dooley and I shared an agonized groan.“What about the murder?” I asked.

“What about it?” asked Harriet.

“Did you talk to anyone inside? Did Donna Bruce have other pets besides Beavis and Butt-head over there?”

Dooley snickered.“You said butt.”

“For your information, that place is filled with cops,” said Harriet. “So even if there were any pets around, the cops probably scared them off.”

Now it was my turn to place my chin on my front paws. This investigation was not exactly going the way I’d hoped. “So nothing?” I asked.

Harriet remained conspicuously silent.

“At least now we know that Bradley Cooper looks great with a beard,” Dooley offered. “That’s something, right? Right, Max?”

“Oh, Dooley,” I muttered.

Chapter 5

Inside the house, Odelia and Chase sat down with Hillary Davies, who was the CEO of donna.vip. Hillary, a fortysomething woman with short blond hair streaked with gray and a square face, knitted her brows.“I still can’t believe Donna’s dead. That’s just not like her.”

Odelia would have said it wasn’t like anyone to be dead, but she thought she understood. Donna Bruce had apparently been one of those extremely dynamic women, possessing a very strong personality and an iron will to succeed. People like that often seemed indestructible.

She handed the CEO a cup of chamomile tea. Hillary took it gratefully, the cup shaking between her fingers as she put it to her lips.

“How long have you known Donna Bruce?” Odelia asked.

“I started to work for her five years ago, so that’s when our relationship began, though I was a customer way before that. Donna.vip was already an established brand by that time, and Donna felt that in order to expand, she needed to professionalize and hire a CEO. And that’s where I came in.”

“Was she tough to work for?” asked Odelia.

Hillary smiled.“She wasn’t easy to work for, that’s for sure. She was demanding and outspoken. And she definitely didn’t keep her opinions to herself. But she was also generous and eager to give credit where credit was due. She lived for the brand, so if you improved the brand, she considered you a friend.”

“And did you? Improve the brand?” asked Chase.

“Yes, I think I did,” said the woman, tilting her chin. “I took it from twenty million annual gross to two hundred, and I like to believe I played a big part in that expansion. And judging from the bonus Donna paid me last Christmas, I think she knew it too.”

“Did she have any enemies?” Odelia asked.

“Oh, more than I can count on the fingers of my two hands,” said Hillary. “A strong and visible woman like Donna Bruce will always rub a lot of people the wrong way and she was no exception.”

“Can you think of anyone who could have killed her?” asked Chase.

Hillary thought for a moment, touching her lips with her fingers.“Well, there was her ex-husband, of course.”

“Tad Rip,” Chase read from his notes.

“That’s right. He didn’t like it when Donna got sole custody of Sweetums and Honeychild. And he certainly didn’t like it when she called him a drug addict, a drunk and a serial philanderer. Claimed it ruined his reputation.”

“What does he do, this ex-husband?” asked Odelia.

“He’s one of those Silicon Valley tycoons,” said Hillary. “You know the type. Multi-millionaire before the age of twelve and an ego bigger than the state of Alaska. The man was a buffoon, plain and simple, and spent more time bedding his secretaries than trying to make his marriage work.”She leaned forward. “In my opinion the only reason he married Donna was so he could leverage her success to his advantage. A trophy wife on steroids. But Donna wasn’t having it and he paid the price.”

“So you think he might have murdered the mother of his own children?” asked Odelia, surprised.

Hillary pressed her lips together.“You didn’t hear it from me, but the man is a sociopath. Which I guess is a quality that comes in handy when you’re trying to make it to the top of the heap in Silicon Valley.”

Chase smiled.“Sounds to me like you’re not a big fan of Mr. Rip.”

“No, I’m not. The man tried to damage our business, claiming donna.vip was just a silly little whim. Around the time of the divorce there was a hostile takeover attempt I’m sure was instigated by Mr. Rip. Luckily with the help of a few private backers we managed to get it overturned. It’s clear to me Donna’s ex tried to destroy her company out of sheer spite.”

“And now he’s destroyed its owner and founder,” Odelia said softly.

“As I said, you didn’t hear it from me. I’m still the CEO, and it’s a tough world out there. I don’t need this to come back to me.”

“What do you think will happen to the company now that Donna is gone?” Chase asked.

“I have no idea. I just hope she made the necessary arrangements. Many of these business tycoons don’t, thinking they’re immortal. And then when they die the whole thing is taken over by a bunch of bumbling relatives and run into the ground within a year. I hope she didn’t make that mistake.”

They left Hillary to take an urgent business call, and ambled into the kitchen, where the housekeeper, Jackie Laboeuf, was busy preparing breakfast. The sturdily-built woman with the raven-black hair looked up when they entered.

“Hi, Mrs. Laboeuf,” said Chase, producing his badge. “My name is Chase Kingsley and I’m the detective in charge of this case. This is Odelia Poole, civilian consultant to the Hampton Cove Police Department. Can we ask you a few questions?”

The woman sniffed, dabbing a handkerchief the size of a dish towel to her eyes.“Ask away, Detective. The sooner you catch the monster that did this the better. How anyone could hurt Mrs. B is beyond me. The woman was a saint.”

“You were the one who found her?”

“Yes, I’m sorry to say that I was. I come in every morning around eight, to take care of breakfast and organize the household, and usually when I arrive Mrs. B is waiting for me and we sit down to discuss any ongoing things and plan out the rest of the day. But this morning as I let myself in with my key there was no one here. And when I went looking for her, I…” Her voice faltered and she brought the dish towel to her eyes again, then proceeded to loudly blow her nose in it. “I’m sorry. This has all come as a big shock to me.”

“Wasn’t there any security?” asked Odelia.

Jackie shook her head.“Mrs. B fired See-Cure last week. They weren’t up to her usual standards. There had been reporters that had managed to get close to the house, with one even snapping a picture of Mrs. B while she was taking a bath. You may have seen the picture. It was all over the Internet.”

“So she fired the security company but didn’t replace them?”

“She was in talks with one other company operating out of Amagansett, but the contracts hadn’t been signed yet, so the cameras were all switched off and the fence wasn’t hooked up to anything. But we did have the dogs, so Mrs. B wasn’t worried.”

“Right,” said Chase dubiously. “Rex and Rollo. Not exactly guard dogs, are they?”

“They’re pretty good barkers. And they’ll bite anyone they don’t like, especially reporters.”

It was obvious the housekeeper wasn’t fond of reporters, which wasn’t surprising as they hadn’t been kind to Donna Bruce and her website, heaping more scorn on her and her project than praise over the years.

“Do you have any idea who might have done this to her?” asked Odelia.

Jackie Laboeuf shook her head, tears springing to her eyes again.“It might be those reporters,” she said, harping on the same theme.

“But why would a reporter murder Donna Bruce?” asked Chase.

“They hated her,” the housekeeper burst out. “For some reason they just hated her. And is it so hard to believe that one of them just went nuts and killed her? That lot is obviously capable of anything.”

“What about Mrs. Bruce’s ex-husband?” asked Odelia. “Tad Rip?”

Jackie shrugged.“It might have been him. Though why he would kill the mother of his children is beyond me. He might be a douche but he’s not a murdering douche.”

“So you knew Mr. Rip?”

“Of course I knew Mr. Rip. I’ve been working for Mrs. B for coming up on fifteen years now,” she said proudly. “I was here when they brought Sweetums and Honeychild home. Such a happy couple they were back then. You should have seen how proud Mr. Rip was. But that was before he and Mrs. B had a falling-out, of course.”

“Why did they divorce?” asked Odelia.

“Couldn’t keep his hands off his secretaries,” said Jackie with a snort. “She forgave him more than once, but after the fifth or the sixth—I lost count—she kicked him out. Even made sure he never got to see his kids again.” She shook her head. “That was one mean divorce. All fought out in the press, of course.”

“Of course,” said Odelia softly. “What’s going to happen to the kids now?”

“They’ll go and live with their father I suppose,” said Jackie. Then, as the uncertainty of her own fate came home to her, she dissolved into tears again.

When they left the unfortunate housekeeper, she’d just taken out a clean dish towel and was burying her face in it.

“So sad,” Odelia murmured as they stepped into the foyer.

“Yeah, the poor woman was obviously very attached to her employer,” Chase agreed. “Which doesn’t mean we should rule her out as a suspect, of course.”

“A suspect? But why? Why would she kill Donna? She’s not only losing her position but obviously one she was extremely fond of.”

“I don’t know,” said Chase, fiddling with his notebook. “That’s what we’re here to find out.”

There was a commotion outside, and Odelia looked up. The ruckus seemed to come from the front gate, and when they stepped outside, she saw that a group of protesters were marching down the drive in the direction of the house. A few of the police officers tried to head them off, and the end result was a very voluble confrontation.

“Who are those people?” she asked as she watched the scene.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Chase suggested, and set foot for the altercation.

She followed him reluctantly. She hadn’t come here to get into a brawl with a bunch of protestors. When they came closer, she saw that they were brandishing placards that read, ‘Down With The Wall!’ ‘No To The Wall!’ ‘Don’t Take Away Our Sun!’

“What’s all this?” asked Chase as he addressed what appeared to be the most vocal protestor of the bunch. He was a red-haired red-faced man shouting, ‘Down With The Wall!’ at the top of his lungs, while engaged in a shoving match with two officers.

“They want to have a word with Donna Bruce, sir,” said one of the officers.

“You damn right we want to have a word with Donna Bruce!” the protestor yelled. “She will build her wall over our dead bodies! Do you hear me, cop! Over my dead body!”

He’d gotten right in Chase’s face. Spittle was flying and testosterone was pumping.

“I need you to back off, sir,” said Chase. “This is private property.”

“I don’t care!” yelled the guy. “I want to see Donna and I’m not leaving until I do!”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” said Chase, his face reddening.

“And who’s going to stop me, huh? You? You’re all protecting her, aren’t you? The whole lot of you! Well, I’m not taking any more of this crap!”

And with these words, he charged forward, embarking on a mad dash toward the house. But he hadn’t counted on Chase, who uttered a few choice curse words and then chased after the man, tackling him before he’d gone twenty yards.

The protestor, obviously not too well pleased, screamed,“Get off me, you Nazi pig!” and proceeded to hit Chase over the head with his placard. At this, Chase hauled off and hit the man in the eye. “Hey! What did you have to go and do that for?!” said the protestor dumbly, and then promptly collapsed on the ground, out for the count.

Chapter 6

The reenactment ofFight Club had taken us by surprise. Hidden beneath Odelia’s pickup, we’d had a first-row seat to the entire show, from the arrival of the dozen or so protestors to the takedown of the most fiery one of the lot by Chase. The man soon came to, and was tucked into a squad car and shipped off to the police station.

“Wow, did you see that?” asked Brutus. “That was one great punch!”

“Such a violent man,” tsk-tsked Harriet.

“Yeah, good thing Chase was here to take him out,” I said.

“I mean Chase. Who goes and punches an innocent man like that?”

We all stared at the Persian.“Wait, what?” I cried. “Chase is the hero here. Who knows what that dude was up to.”

“All he was doing was exercising his right to protest as stated in the Constitution.”

“Right to protest? He was charging the house!”

“With a placard as a weapon,” said Harriet. “Big threat.”

“Well, he still had no right to be here. This is private property and he was trespassing.”

“We are trespassing on private property,” Harriet argued. “Nobody ever gave us permission to be here, so technically we’re in violation too. But you don’t see Chase punching our lights out, do you?”

“That’s because we’re here with Odelia,” I pointed out. “So we’re not trespassing at all. We’re part of the police effort to find the killer of the owner of this private property.”

Harriet studied her nails.“You can argue all you want, Max, but the fact remains that Chase just punched a man and now I’m seeing him in an entirely different light.”

“In a great, wonderful light,” I said. “In the light of heroism! He saved us from crazy protestor guy.”

“The man has a violent streak and I for one think Odelia should be warned.”

“He doesnot have a violent streak! He was protecting us!”

“From a placard,” said Harriet skeptically.

“I think Harriet is right,” said Dooley.

I wheeled around.“What?!”

“Chase had no reason to punch that man. He could have simply pointed out to him in a firm voice that he was trespassing and kindly have requested him to leave.”

“He did! And the guy called him a Nazi pig!”

“Well, I’m sure it’s all one big misunderstanding,” said Dooley vaguely, directing a keen look at Harriet. Then it dawned on me. He was simply trying to get in good with the feisty white cat. Nice! My best friend was openly disagreeing with me so he could score points with Harriet. Great going, Dooley.

Just then, Odelia approached, glanced around, and then whispered,“Max! Dooley! Where are you guys?”

It was our cue and we emerged from beneath the vehicle, but not before taking a look around to ascertain whether Rex and Rollo were gone. They were.

“What were you all doing underneath the car?” asked Odelia with an expression of surprise on her face.

“Oh, just holding an emergency meeting,” I said. “Us cats like to hold our meetings under cars. It seems to stimulate our creativity for some reason.”

“Yeah, must be the presence of all that oil and grease,” said Brutus a little pompously. “Oils the creative processes, it does.”

Dooley was rubbing his shoulder where Brutus had just punched him. The big cat had taken a dim view of Dooley’s efforts to get in good with his girlfriend and had shown him what he felt about that. As a consequence, Harriet was seeing her beau in an entirely new light as well, for she said, “Why did you punch Dooley, Brutus? That was uncalled for and absolutely unnecessary.”

“I, um…” the black cat began.

“You’re just as bad as Chase Kingsley,” Harriet said with a shake of the head, and then hopped into the pickup, following Odelia’s example.

We all filed in after her.“Who was that man Chase knocked out?” asked Harriet.

“Oh, just some protestor,” said Odelia, buckling up. She turned to us. “So? What did you guys find out?”

“That Donna Bruce had a very bad taste in pets,” I said, and told her about our unproductive encounter with Rex and Rollo.

“And that Chase Kingsley is a very violent man,” said Harriet primly.

“And that Bradley Cooper looks great with a beard,” Dooley added, earning himself a smile from Harriet and a scowl from Brutus.

Ignoring the remark about Bradley Cooper, Odelia asked,“Why do you think Chase is a violent man, Harriet?”

“Did you not see how he simply knocked out an innocent bystander, absolutely unprovoked? I think it raises all kinds of issues, Odelia. One of which is that the man is obviously completely out of control.”

“I think you’ve got that wrong, Harriet,” said Odelia to my surprise. “Chase was hit over the head by the man. All he did was retaliate.”

“See?” I asked triumphantly. “Chase had every right to knock that guy’s block off.”

“I still think it was uncalled for and very, very rude,” Harriet insisted. “And it shows a side of the man’s character that I’d never seen before.”

“I think it was heroic,” I said. “He obviously was trying to protect Odelia.”

“Who was in no danger whatsoever,” Harriet countered.

“She was. The man is a menace. Someone had to take him down and Chase did.”

“I think Harriet is right,” Dooley piped up, gulping slightly when Brutus gave him one of his trademark scowls again. “And it’s all in the Constitution and all that…” His voice died away.

Odelia, clearly not in the mood for this conversation, said,“Look, I need you to focus on finding Donna Bruce’s killer, not comment on Chase’s alleged violent tendencies. Are you going to help me or not? If not, that’s fine with me. I’ll just drop you off at the house and you can continue this pointless discussion indefinitely.”

“Oh, no, we are going to help you,” I said quickly. “I mean, I am going to help you.”

“Me, too,” said Brutus. “In fact I’m pretty sure I already know who the killer is. I just need some time to come up with the evidence that will tie this case together.”

I eyed him dubiously. I was pretty sure he had no clue who the killer was.

“And I also have a pretty good idea who did it,” said Harriet primly.

“Me too,” Dooley said weakly. “I’m sure I have a great idea who killed…”

“Donna Bruce,” I said helpfully.

“Exactly,” Dooley said.

Odelia eyed us with a glint of humor in her eye.“So you all know who the killer is, huh? So when are you going to tell me?” We all started talking simultaneously, and she held up her hands in a bid to silence us. “You need to work together on this, you guys.”

“I cannot in all good conscience collaborate with anyone who condones violence,” said Harriet, directing a critical eye at me and Brutus. “That is simply out of the question.”

“Me either,” said Dooley. “I don’t violently condone a conscience. Absolutely not.”

“Right,” said Odelia with a slight grin. “Looks like the allegiances have shifted again. So what I’ll do is appoint a lead investigator in this case. He or she will be the one who takes the lead and who will bring this case to a close.”

I frowned. What was she talking about? I was her main cat. Always had been. She was my human, after all. Harriet belonged to Marge. Dooley belonged to Vesta. Brutus belonged to Chase. I was the only one who belonged to her. So technically I was the only lead investigator in any case she was involved in. But she ignored my studious frown.

“And I’m picking Harriet,” she finally said after a moment’s deliberation.

Dooley, Brutus and I all exclaimed“What?!!!”

“Yes, I think Harriet is going to be great,” said Odelia with a smile.

Harriet was beaming.“Oh, Odelia, you won’t regret this!” she exclaimed. “I’m going to catch this killer for you!”

“I know you will, honey,” said Odelia. “The rest of you guys can just sit this one out, all right? Harriet is going to catch this killer all by herself.” And with these words, she turned to the front again and started up the car. It rumbled to life with a throaty purr.

Harriet’s smile waned a little. “Wait, what?”

“You’re on your own, honey,” said Odelia. “Max, Dooley and Brutus are out.”

“But…” Harriet frowned, thinking this through. “You mean I have to do this all by myself?”

Odelia glanced over her shoulder.“Is that a problem?”

“No!” Harriet was quick to say. “No, I—I can do this. Of course I can.”

“That’s what I thought. In fact, now that I come to think of it, Chase and I will sit this one out as well. Chase is entirely too violent—you got that right. And I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, as usual.” She sighed. “So I guess it’s all up to you, honey.”

Harriet’s lips moved wordlessly, as panic was clear in her eyes. “All up to me,” she echoed.

“Yep. Good thing you’re up to the task, or else I’d be worried if I was one of Donna Bruce’s relatives. Or, God forbid, Sweetums or Honeychild. I’m sure they want to know what happened to their mother, poor kids.”

The distinct look of panic in Harriet’s eyes had increased. Then, suddenly, she cried out, “Don’t do it!”

Odelia frowned.“Don’t do what, honey?”

“Don’t let me do this by myself! I’m—I’m not up to the task! I—I wouldn’t know where to begin. Let’s…” She directed a pleading glance in my direction. “Let’s all do this together. As a team. Just the way we always do. Please, Odelia?”

Odelia thought about this for a moment.“But I thought you said Brutus was entirely too violent? And so was Max? And, for that matter, Chase? I got the distinct impression you thought you could handle this all on your own, without any help from anyone?”

“No, I can’t! I’m sorry! I was just—I was just—I don’t know what I was thinking! All I know is that I can’t do this without you guys. Brutus—Dooley—Max. We’re a team, right? We make a great team.”

Odelia smiled.“I’m glad you think so, Harriet. So… are you sure you don’t want to do this all by yourself?”

“No, I don’t!”

Odelia shrugged.“Okay, then. I guess we’re all on board again.”

“Yay!” Harriet squealed, doing a happy dance on the backseat.

Odelia locked eyes with me and gave me a wink. I returned it with relish.

My human, people. She’s the greatest.

“So from now on Harriet is in charge. You will all follow her lead,” Odelia said, and drove off.

My human. She’s completely nuts!

Chapter 7

After dropping off the cats at the house, Odelia headed for the police station, to assist Chase while he interviewed the man they’d arrested outside the Donna Bruce residence. Judging from his behavior he was now the prime suspect in the murder of the celebrity lifestyle guru.

She parked in front of the station house and got out. There were a bunch of reporters camped out in front of the squat building, and she wondered if this was going to pose a problem for the investigation. When celebrities were murdered, the accompanying attention sometimes worked disruptive, pushing the people in charge of the investigation to make rash decisions they wouldn’t otherwise make. Then again, this was Chase Kingsley. He wasn’t the kind of guy to allow emotion to trump reason.

She hiked her purse up her shoulder and headed inside, keeping her head down as the reporters studied her curiously, probably wondering if and how she was connected to the case. Fortunately for her, she had one of those unremarkable faces that easily get lost in the crowd, so they quickly dismissed her and went about their business of interviewing each other on camera.

She waved a greeting at Dolores, the big-haired receptionist manning the front desk, and made her way to her uncle’s office at the end of the hallway. When she swept inside, Chase was pacing the room, looking slightly agitated, while her uncle was seated at his desk, his feet up, hands behind his head, the picture of calm and poise.

“I’m telling you, Chief, this is our guy. He’s obviously bearing a grudge, he was at the scene, and he is as hostile and aggressive as they come. Now all we have to do is establish means and opportunity and we’re home free. Oh, hey, Odelia. We were just discussing the arrest of Alpin Carr?.”

“The guy who hit you over the head with his placard.”

Chase’s jaw worked. “That’s the one.”

She took a seat in front of her uncle.“So you think he might be our guy?”

“I’m ninety-five percent positive.”

“And I’m not,” said Uncle Alec. “I know Alpin, Chase. He might be a hothead but he’s not a killer. Heck, the guy is a publisher. And a very successful one at that. Publishes these books about angels and the healing power of crystals and stuff like that.”

“Healing power of crystals? “

“Yeah, he had a real bestseller last year withThe Shed. I don’t know if you’ve heard about it. Everybody was reading it.”

“The book about the guy who finds God while sitting alone in his shed?”

Uncle Alec nodded.“They’re turning it into a movie starring Chris Pratt. I think they tapped George Clooney to play the voice of God.”

“Great choice,” said Odelia. If God had a voice it would be Clooney’s. Though in this day and age of gender equality and feminism, maybe Meryl Streep was the more politically correct option.

Chase made a slashing motion with his hand.“Look, I don’t care if the guy can walk on water. He’s clearly unhinged, so in my book he’s our prime suspect.”

“What about the ex-husband?” asked Odelia. “Hillary Davies seemed pretty sure he was the one.” She turned to her uncle. “Is he in town?”

Uncle Alec nodded.“Yes, he is. He recently moved to the Hamptons in an effort to see more of his kids. Though I’m not sure if his ex-wife was all that happy about it.”

“Why don’t we interview the placard swinger first and then look into the ex-husband?”

“I already set up an appointment,” said her uncle. “You’ll see him this afternoon. And now you better interview Alpin before he talks God into rescuing him from his cell.” He gave Odelia a wink. “Or talks to his lawyer, which is more likely.”

They both sat down in front of the irate publisher, who sat shackled to the table in the interview room. His hair was mussed and he was sporting a bloody nose and a black eye but otherwise appeared to have calmed down considerably since his run-in with Chase’s fist.

“Look, I can’t be in here,” he said the moment Odelia and Chase walked in. “I have meetings to attend—plus, I have to take my daughter to her ballet lesson and my son to his little league game—I’m also the trainer, you see, so I can’t afford to be late. A dozen kids are counting on me.”

“You should have thought of that before you assaulted a police officer,” said Chase gravely.

“I—I wasn’t thinking, okay?” asked the guy, running a hand through his red mane. “I just wanted to talk to Donna. She’s been fighting us on this wall issue for months and frankly I’m fed up.”

“What’s the story behind this wall?” asked Odelia.

Alpin sighed.“About a year ago Donna filed the necessary paperwork to build an extension on the west side of her current property, adjacent to mine. At first all she wanted was to build a gazebo, which was fine by me, even though it would have been right next to my pool. So I called her and asked her if she was going to throw parties at this gazebo or what? She said she was building it as a temple of solitude—a place for her to meditate in peace and quiet. So I gave her my blessing and said to knock herself out. Only she must have realized she wasn’t going to get a lot of peace and quiet if she was building this temple of solitude twenty yards from my pool, so she filed new plans, which included a twenty-foot wall!”

“That’s… high,” said Odelia.

The man scoffed,“You don’t say! That monstrosity was going to block out my sun. Right next to my pool! And then she came up with a plan to extend this wall all around her property, which would affect not just me but two of her other neighbors as well. And to make matters worse she was also going to cut an access road that is used by pretty much the entire neighborhood. So as you can imagine, the neighborhood association wasn’t too happy about this.”

“Did you try and talk her out of it?”

“Yes, I did. We all did. We organized a meet, but she never showed up. Instead, she sent her lawyer, who said we didn’t have a leg to stand on and that her client was adamant to go through with her plans regardless our protestations.”

“What did the council say?”

“Apparently they were all big fans of Donna’s cause they told us she had every right to put in place measures that would increase her sense of safety and security. There had been several threats made against the lady’s life and she was forced to tighten security measures.” He held up his hand. “Which I totally understand. But not at the expense of the entire neighborhood. I’m sure that if we could have sat down with Donna and talked things through, we could have made her see reason. Instead she chose to bulldoze her plans through and shove them down our throats!”

“And you weren’t having it.”

“Damn straight we weren’t having it!”

“So you killed her,” said Chase.

The man’s face morphed into an expression of shock. “Killed her?!”

“At seven o’clock this morning you attacked Donna Bruce and murdered her.”

“Murdered her! Donna was… murdered?!”

“Oh, come off it, Mr. Carr?. You know very well what happened. You were there.”

“No, I wasn’t! I—I didn’t even know she was dead.”

“Why did you think the police were at the scene?”

The man’s jaw had dropped and he hitched it up with some effort. “I just figured you were there to protect her from… us.”

“Where were you this morning at seven, Mr. Carr??”

“I was home, preparing for the demonstration. Just ask my neighbors. We were putting together…” He cut a quick look to Chase. “… placards.”

Chase rubbed his head where the placard had struck and gave the other man a dirty look.“Are you sure you didn’t sneak out at some point to lock Mrs. Bruce up inside her sauna cabin and unleash a bunch of bees on her?”

“Bees? Of course not. Where would I get a bunch of bees?”

“At the bee farm.”

“Look,” he said, licking his lips nervously. “Talk to my neighbors. Or my wife, for that matter. I was right there—up at the crack of dawn, on the phone with the other guys, and we all met at six to start preparations for the demonstration. We weren’t going to let Donna pull a fast one onus. We were going to take this thing to court if we had to. I still hoped she would listen to reason once she realized she was antagonizing the entire neighborhood. But I swear to God, I would never kill her!”

“Do you have any idea who would have?” asked Odelia.

He thought for a moment.“Well, like I said, death threats had been made against her.”

“Any idea who made them?”

“There was this producer whose career she ruined. Um, what’s his name…” He snapped his fingers, then his face cleared. “Ransom Montll?. I remember because his name came up when we were in talks to turnThe Shed into a motion picture. The guy’s a washout, though. Nobody will work with him. And he’s got Donna Bruce to thank for that.”

“So it’s true thatThe Shed is going to be a movie?”

The man smiled for the first time.“I’m afraid I can’t discuss the particulars but so far it’s looking pretty good.”

“And George Clooney is attached to play God?”

His smile widened.“I cannot confirm or deny anything.”

Chase made a sound of disgust and got up.“Please don’t leave town, Mr. Carr?. We’re not through with you yet.”

“Look, I’m sorry, all right?” the publisher said, holding up a hand in a gesture of appeasement. “I’m not normally a violent man, but Donna had us with our backs against the wall—no pun intended. We were just trying to protect the neighborhood. I’m sorry about your head, dude.”

“That’s all right,” Odelia said. “Chase has a thick skull. I’m sure you didn’t even make a dent.”

Chase made a growling sound at the back of his throat, and Odelia decided that perhaps it would be best not to poke the bear. So she also got up and thanked Alpin Carr? for his time. The man frowned. “So… am I under arrest here or what?”

“Yes,” said Chase.

“No,” said Odelia.

The publisher looked from one to the other.“Um, so what is it?”

Chase threw up his hands and walked out. Odelia gave Alpin her best smile.“You’re free to go, Mr. Carr?. But if I could make a suggestion, maybe next time try not to hit a cop. They don’t like it.”

He returned her smile.“You are by far the nicest cop I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, but I’m not a cop. I’m just a consultant.”

“That explains everything,” he said, and shook her hand warmly. “Seriously, though. Look into Ransom Montll?. The guy had a serious grudge against Donna.”

“Even more than you?”

“I might hold a grudge but I would never kill a person.”

“And Ransom Montll? would?”

“Well, the guy was a green beret. He’s got the skills.”

“How come you know so much about him?”

“He used to live two doors down from me. But that was before Donna came into his life.”

Chapter 8

We were finally on our way to Vena Aleman. Me and Dooley had fought Odelia tooth and claw, but there was no use. We were going to the vet no matter what. At least Brutus and Harriet had been saved—for now. They were going next week, as Vena was too busy to see four cats at once. But for Dooley and I there was no reprieve.

On the drive over, we discussed the case. When Odelia mentioned the producer and the publisher and the ex-husband who had it in for Donna, I thought it was starting to look like Donna Bruce was one of those people who had rubbed everyone the wrong way and had made a lot of enemies on her way to the top.

“So either one of them could have done it?” I asked.

“Well, except for the publisher. Chase talked to some of the neighbors and they all swear up and down that Alpin couldn’t have done it.”

“What about the bees?” I asked. “How did they get the bees?”

“Good question,” said Odelia, unhurriedly steering the pickup out of town. “The beekeeper the bees were stolen from had equipped his hives with a GPS tracker. So when he got the message one of his hives was on the move, he immediately contacted the police. This happened around six this morning. He found his pallet discarded behind Donna’s house, the bees in the sauna cabin—at least the ones that survived.”

“Did he get his bees back?” asked Dooley, sounding worried.

“Yes, he did. Though a lot of them died. When a bee stings they usually don’t survive the sting. And the heat of the sauna didn’t do much for their wellbeing either.”

“But who would do such a thing?” asked Dooley, aghast. “To harm those innocent creatures like that?”

Odelia shook her head.“No idea, Dooley. But whoever it was, they must have had some knowledge about handling bees. At least that’s what the beekeeper told Chase.”

I thought about this for a moment.“Do you think there’s a significance to this? I mean, why not simply shoot the woman, or hit her over the head with a mallet? Why go to all the trouble of stealing a bunch of bees—”

“More like thousands of bees,” Odelia interjected.

“—and running the risk of being found before you can carry out your plan?”

She smiled.“And that’s why I want the four of you to work together. You all bring something unique and special to this investigation.”

“So you agree Harriet wouldn’t be able to handle this on her own?”

“None of us can handle this on our own, Max. Though I would like you to give Harriet a chance. Let her run with this for a while. See where it takes you guys.”

I frowned. This wasn’t what I’d wanted to hear. “But I’m in charge, right? I’m the one who takes the lead.”

“Not this time. Harriet is going to be running point,” Odelia said. “And you follow her lead. I want to see where she will take the investigation.”

“But I thought you said she couldn’t do this on her own.”

“She can’t. She needs you, Max—and Dooley, of course. I want you to work as a team. Can you do that for me?”

“I suppose,” I said reluctantly. “But I still don’t see—”

“Harriet needs you, Max. She needs your intelligence and your skill. The thing is, I want to see her blossom. Reach her full potential. Harriet has a lot to offer. But, like I said, she can’t do this all by herself. And that’s where you come in. You and Dooley.”

“Me, too?” asked Dooley, delighted.

“Of course! You guys are my A team. My main sleuths.”

I thought about this for a moment, and then I saw what Odelia was trying to say. Officially, she was putting Harriet in charge, but in actual fact I would be the one in charge, as usual. She just wanted Harriet tothink she was in charge, to boost her self-confidence and to give her something to do other than run around with Brutus and make a total fool of herself. So I winked at Odelia.“I get it,” I finally said. “Harriet is in charge, but reallyI’m in charge, huh?”

“No, Harriet is in charge, Max.”

I laughed.“Sure. She’s ‘in charge’ but I’min charge. Gotcha.”

“Whatever you say, Max,” she said, and parked the car. “And here we are.”

My smile vanished.“Eep.”

Odelia had brought along our cat boxes, though I’d assured her this wasn’t necessary. We would walk into Vena’s on our own four paws, head held high, pride intact. But Odelia didn’t seem to trust my word or Dooley’s, for she shoved us into our respective carriers and then we were off. God. This was so humiliating…

Once inside, she parked us on the floor and went off in search of Vena.

“I don’t like this, Max,” said Dooley as he looked out at me through the slats. “I don’t like this at all.”

“Me neither,” I intimated. “It’s like we’re prisoners all of a sudden.”

“We are prisoners. About to be prodded and poked and stabbed with needles.”

I closed my eyes. I hated needles so much just the thought made me weak at the knees. Not that I had any chance of standing up in this cramped box. Dooley, who’s a lot smaller than me, at least had some wiggle room, while I filled out this entire box. My butt was pushed up against the back, my nose against the front, and I could hardly move. Good thing I’m not claustrophobic! And to think Odelia said she got me the biggest carrier she could find. I’d already told her she should have gotten me a dog carrier. They come in the bigger sizes. But she said she still had to be able to carry me.

Just then, another person came in, carrying a box containing a scared-looking cat. I knew that cat. It was Shanille, the conductor of cat choir, and the person carrying her was none other than Father Reilly himself.

“Hey, Shanille,” I said. “So you’re up for it, too, huh?”

“Hey, Max,” she said softly. “Dooley. Yeah, I fought hard, but to no avail.”

“You’re not sick or anything are you?”

“Sick? Why would I be sick? I’m the healthiest cat alive. No, I’ve got a tick.”

I frowned.“A tick? What’s a tick?”

“Beats me. Father Reilly says I have a tick, so we had to come to Vena to get rid of it.”

“It’s a heart condition,” said Dooley. “Has to be. Humans call the heart the ticker. What Father Reilly probably meant to say was that you have a problem with your ticker.”

“I don’t have a problem with my ticker! My ticker is just fine. He said tick, not ticker.”

“Yeah, Dooley,” I said. “If it was her ticker they wouldn’t want to get rid of it, would they?”

“Unless her ticker is broken. They’d want to replace it with another ticker.” His eyes suddenly went wide. “Oh, God. Is that why I’m here? They’re going to remove my ticker and put it in Shanille? But I don’t want to die! I’m too young to die!”

“Tick, not ticker,” I reminded him. “A tick is obviously not a ticker, so your ticker is perfectly safe.”

He didn’t seem to buy it, still looking worried. “We should Google it,” he said. “The Google knows everything. The Google knows what a tick is.”

“It’s notthe Google, Dooley,” I said. “It’s Google, without the article.”

“What article?”

“Forget about it.”

“So what are you guys here for?” asked Shanille.

“Me, to have my tick removed and implanted in you,” said Dooley dully, “and Max to have his morbid obesity taken care of.”

“I’m not morbidly obese! I’m big. It’s genetic.”

“You have gained a lot of weight, Max,” said Shanille. “You should probably go on a diet.”

“I’m not going on a diet! I hate diets! And I’m not overweight. I’m just big, that’s all.”

“You don’t even fit in that cage. You’re pressed up against the sides like a balloon. You look like something that exploded inside that cage and is now sticking to the sides.”

“Nice, Shanille. And here I thought you were my friend,” I grumbled.

“I’m just looking out for you. At the rate you’re going you’re going to have trouble with your ticker soon. I know because Vena told me last time I had an enlarged heart and I had to go on a diet.”

“You don’t look overweight,” said Dooley. “In fact you look just fine.”

“I know, right? That’s because I went on the diet.”

“Look, my ticker is fine,” I insisted, not liking the direction this conversation had taken.

“Oh, my God!” Dooley screamed. “They’re going to take my ticker and implant it in you, aren’t they?! Because your ticker is on the fritz. That’s why I’m here! I’m gonna die!”

“Nobody is going to have their ticker removed, Dooley,” I said with an eyeroll. “My ticker is fine, your ticker is fine, and Shanille’s ticker is fine. See? We’re all fine.”

“Except that I have trouble with my tick,” said Shanille.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not a life-threatening thing,” I said.

“You never know,” said Dooley, still panting hard. He was looking around nervously, at the posters on the wall warning pet owners about the various diseases they needed to monitor their dearly beloved pets for. “I could have rabies, or an upper respiratory tract infection, or kidney failure, or ringworm or zoonosis or hookworm infection or toxocariasis or gingivitis or giardiasis or sporotrichosis or bartonellosis—”

“Stop, stop!” Shanille yelled. “You’re making me sick.”

“I know! That’s because weare sick! Why else would we be at the vet?!”

“We’re just here for our annual checkup,” I reminded him. “Just like humans have to visit the dentist once a year, we visit Vena once a year. That doesn’t mean we’re sick or dying. That just means Odelia wants to make sure we’re fine, all right? She loves us and wants to take care of us.”

“All right,” he said, settling down somewhat. Then his eye fell on one particular poster and he gave a loud yelp. “Tick—tick—tick!” he cried, pointing his paw.

Shanille and I looked in the direction indicated and saw a large picture of the most horrible creature I’d ever seen in my entire life. It looked like a giant red spider, and it was burrowing into the skin of some poor hapless pet. “Oh my God!” I squeaked.

But Shanille shrieked the loudest.“Get it off me! Get it off! Get it off! Get it off!”

“Get away from me!” Dooley squealed, trying to shift his cage further away from Shanille’s by rocking back and forth. “Help! Help! It’s gonna jump on me—I can feel it! Help me!” Finally, he managed to overturn his cage, toppling to the floor. Unfortunately, it toppled the wrong way, and now he was right next to Shanille and screaming even louder. “It’s crawling all over me!” he screamed. “I can feel its claws digging in! Heeeeelp!”

Suddenly Odelia, Father Reilly and Vena appeared in the doorway, alerted by the loud cries of three felines. Only Odelia could understand us, of course, and when she did, she had to suppress a chuckle. To her credit, she took immediate action. She righted Dooley’s carrier, then lifted mine, and carried us both into Vena’s consultation room. Off we were, into the lion’s den…

Chapter 9

“They’re dying to see you,” Odelia told Vena. “In fact they were so anxious they were meowing up a storm.”

“Liar,” I said, but she ignored me.

Dooley was still frantically scratching himself all over.“The tick!” he cried. “The tick is on me! It’s got me!”

“There is no tick on you,” I said. “If that tick has dug itself into Shanille it’s not going to jump ship. Shanille is way tastier than you.”

“She is not!” Dooley said indignantly, but he seemed quietly relieved. I think he probably knew that if a tick has a choice between Shanille and him, there’s no question.

“So. My two favorite cats!” Vena said, planting her hands on her sizable hips. Vena is a big and powerfully built woman, cast from the same mold that has produced the likes of Arnold Schwarzenegger and John Cena. Then again, if you’re going to pull calves from cows you probably have to have superhuman strength.

“Hi, Vena,” I said quietly.

She grunted approvingly.“I think he likes me, Odelia.”

“Oh, he loves you. They both do. In fact they can’t wait to come and see you.”

“And with good reason! They know I’ve got their best interests in mind!” She laughed loudly, and snapped the latches on our carriers, then picked me up and placed me on the examination table.

I gulped as I plunked down. I knew I had no other choice. If I tried to escape she would simply grab me by the scruff of the neck and haul me back. And that’s when the prodding and the poking began, just like I’d anticipated.

“Shouldn’t she be doing me first?” asked Dooley. “The tick…”

“There is no tick!” I yelled, losing my patience. In my defense, I was under extreme duress, as Vena’s hands had just prodded me in the belly, one of my many sensitive areas.

She proceeded to pull my ears, check inside them with a flashlight—probably in search of hidden treasure—and wrench my mouth open to check my teeth. All the while, she made these low grunting sounds that scared the bejeezus out of me. Finally, she placed some kind of round metal object against my chest, stuck what looked like a pair of earphones into her earsand frowned thoughtfully.

“Ha ha!” I yelped as she dug that metal thing into my fur. “It tickles!”

She staunchly ignored me, Odelia’s hands firmly holding me down, Vena listening intently. I remembered from last time she was only trying to listen to my heartbeat but it was still scary.

“Myes. Myes,” the vet finally muttered. “Just what I thought. Your cat is fat, Odelia.”

“What?!” I cried. “Not true! I’m big-boned! It runs in the family!”

“I know,” said Odelia, gently stroking my fur. “I noticed this morning when he had trouble jumping up on the bed.”

“The mattress became bigger overnight!”

“Yep,” said Vena, patting my head. “That is one obese tabby.”

“It’s the breed! I’m a tiger cat. We’re big. We have to be, so we can prowl the jungle.”

“Is that true?” asked Dooley from the floor. “Are you really a tiger cat?”

“It’s something I read on The Google,” I said desperately.

“I thought it was just Google, without the article?”

“Shut up, Dooley! I’m fighting for my life here!”

“I indulge him too much, don’t I?” asked Odelia.

“Don’t beat yourself up, honey,” said Vena. “A lot of people do. But he has to go back on a diet, I’m afraid. If not, all that fat is going to start taxing his heart. I can hear a definite murmur, which tells me his heart has to work too hard. Over time, he might also develop diabetes anda host of other ailments. So if you want to keep your Max happy and healthy, you’re going to have to do the work.”

“I am happy,” I said, though that stuff about diabetes and murmurs kinda gave me pause.

“Did you hear that, Max?” asked Odelia, bending down to look into my eyes. “If I want you happy and healthy I’m going to have to put you on a diet. And you know what that means.”

“Oh, God, not again,” I muttered.

“I love you, Max. I don’t want you to get sick on me, you hear? I need you fit and healthy.”

“I hear you,” I said resignedly. Murmurs and diabetes? Who needs that crap?

“Do you still remember what you gave him last year?” Vena asked.

“I think I kept the receipt.” And while she and Vena worked out my diet, I jumped from the examination table. I landed with a dull thud, and Odelia looked down, then nodded. “Yep. Too fat.”

“I’m sorry, Max,” said Dooley commiseratingly. “If you want, you can have some of my food.”

“No, I better not,” I said, plunking down on the floor. To be honest, I was starting to feel the strain of carrying all this extra weight around. Vena was probably right. I wasn’t as agile as I used to be, and it wasn’t a lot of fun. And I had an obligation as a feline sleuth to help Odelia, and I couldn’t do that if I couldn’t even chase suspects around now could I?

“So you’re actually going to do this?” asked Dooley.

“Yep. Looks like I am.” I heaved a deep sigh. “The things I do for my human…”

And then it was Dooley’s turn. He was picked up and subjected to a similar examination. When it was all over, he asked in a tremulous voice, “Am I going to die?”

Odelia smiled.“What’s the verdict, Vena?”

“He’s a little too scrawny for my taste,” said the doctor. “Not enough muscle tissue. I think he needs to go on a diet, too. Only a protein-building diet.”

“Oh, God—I don’t want to go on a diet!” Dooley cried. “I’m not fat!”

“You’re going to have to eat more, Dooley,” Odelia said.

He abruptly stopped his whimpering.“Eat more?”

“You’re too skinny.”

“Too skinny? Is that even possible?”

“What about parasites?” asked Odelia. “Or ticks?”

“He’s perfectly fine—they both are,” the doctor assured Odelia. “But like I said, Max is too fat and Dooley is too skinny. So you’re going to have to put them both on a diet.”

And thus ended our annual visit to the vet. Dooley was going to have to eat more and me… less. Bummer! Then again, it could have been worse. We could have suffered from any of the diseases listed in Vena’s waiting room. Or… ticks. And as we rode back home with Odelia, I shivered when I thought of Shanille. There would be no more choir practice for a while. At least until I was reasonably sure that Vena had taken care of our conductor’s tick problem. Brrrr!

Chapter 10

Odelia thought it was a little awkward to go the gym in the middle of a murder investigation, especially since she’d already spent so much time with the cats at Vena’s, but a promise was a promise. She and Chase had decided to be gym buddies and there was no way she was going to weasel out now.

She’d dumped her gym gear into the pickup before she set out for the vet, and now parked her car in front of the gym, which was located in a strip mall just outside of town. The same strip mall housed what had once been The Vitamin King, a health food store operated by Donovan Rubb, who’d used it to sell drugs and other illegal substances beneath the counter. Since Rubb was busted, the store now housed a nail salon, and not a bad one either.

She let the cats out of the car. They could use some fresh air after the ordeal they’d gone through at the hands of Vena. They’d taken it well, she thought, all things considered, and she had to resist the urge to buy them both a treat. No more junk food. From now on, they were going on a strict diet, Dooley to bulk up and Max to slim down.

She slung her gym bag over her shoulder and walked up to Triple Platinum Gym. It was rumored that some of the celebrities that visited the Hamptons trained here, or at least the ones who didn’t have a private gym installed at their multi-million-dollar mansions. She looked up when the roar of a motorcycle sounded behind her, and a leather-clad biker rode up on a powerful machine. He waved at her so she waved back, wondering if this could be Brad Pitt or Leonardo DiCaprio, ready to lift some weights. When the biker removed his helmet and shook out his shoulder-length hair, however, a smile curled up her lips.

“Hey, Chase. You certainly know how to make an entrance.”

He directed a cheeky grin at her, his eyes smiling.“Thanks. So are you ready for the workout from hell?”

“I’m ready for a workout, without the hell. I haven’t been to the gym in years,” she reminded him, “so go easy on me, will you?”

“Sure thing, babe,” he growled and stepped from his machine.

She frowned. When had he started calling her babe? Maybe since they’d started kissing as if it was a regular thing?

He walked up to her and bent over, planting a wet smooch on her lips that made her stomach perform a double flip. Then he pulled her against his black leather jacket and repeated the procedure, only this time putting some tongue into play. When he finally released her, she thought she heard tweety-birds singing in a nearby tree. It could have been her imagination.

“Let’s go, babe,” he said, slinging an arm around her and directing her inside.

The gym was crowded, its patrons the usual mix of hot-looking trim chicks and equally hot-looking buff dudes. People were grunting as they hoisted stacks of iron while others were shedding what could have been their body weight in sweat as they raced an imaginary opponent on the stationary bike while watchingKeeping Up with the Kardashians on the overhead TV screens. Loud rock music was blaring, the sound mixing with that of the TV screens, and somewhere near the back the Hells Angels seemed to be holding a convention, as pony-tailed middle-aged men were encouraging other pony-tailed middle-aged men to put in‘one more rep, Rudy!’ Odelia smiled. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the club.

She said goodbye to Chase as she headed into the locker room and when she re-emerged, dressed in obligatory skintight lycra in the prerequisite loud colors, she saw that Chase had already reserved a station for them. It was the cable pulley machine for the back, and Chase was pulling down on the wide iron bar, the muscles in his back well-defined. She expelled an involuntary gasp. The man was huge! Dressed in a tank top and biker shorts, he was also exceedingly hot, and she had to resist the urge to stare at his pronounced front bump.

“You started without me,” she said as she walked up.

He grinned and let the weights fall down on the stack with a loud clanging sound.“Just a few warmup reps. So what do you wanna do?”

“I thought about limiting myself to the cross trainer today. Start building up that cardiovascular endurance again.”

“Or we could do some weight training first, and then finish off the session with some cardio.”

She shrugged. She wasn’t exactly a pro at this kind of stuff, and he definitely had more experience. “Have you been doing this long?”

“I started when I was sixteen, so you might say that’s a long time. My dad used to take me to the gym. I was a skinny kid and he thought I could use some bulking up. And since I was also a shy kid I was being bullied a lot and he figured some weight training might help with that as well.”

“And did it help?”

“It did. Most bullies are cowards. They don’t like to pick on guys that are bigger than them. And it didn’t take me long to get a lot bigger. Of course I had a strong incentive. These days I just do it to stay healthy and strong.”

“So no ambitions to compete?” she asked, pointing at a poster announcing an upcoming bodybuilding competition.

“Hell, no,” he said with a laugh. “To be absolutely honest I’m not sure it’s entirely healthy to do this stuff professionally. It’s a completely different ballgame.”

“It sure is,” she said as she watched a guy as big as a house pose in front of the mirror. With his veins popping and his muscles clearly visible beneath his skin, he looked a little scary. ”So what did you have in mind, coach?”

“Sit yourself down, little lady,” he said with a drawl, “and I’ll tell you exactly what I have in mind.”

So she sat down, and after he’d changed the pin in the stack, she grabbed the handles and pulled down hard. It took her some time to get into the groove again, but then she remembered this had always been one of her favorite machines, and soon she could feel her blood pumping and her heart pounding. It was a great feeling and she gave Chase a grateful smile. “This feels good!”

“Of course it does.”

She wiped her sweat with her towel and they headed for the next machine, this time focusing on chest muscles. And as they walked from machine to machine, doing a full back and chest workout, she said,“There’s been a lot of rumors going around.”

“Oh? About what?”

“About us.”

Chase was lying on a low bench, pressing two dumbbells up in a lateral motion.“Us, huh?”

“Yep,” she said as casually as possible.

“And what are they saying?”

“Well, ‘they’ seem to think we’re in a hurry to tie the knot.”

“And is there a reason for all this hurry?” he asked with a grunt as he lowered the dumbbells.

“They think I’m pregnant and wouldn’t like to walk down the aisle with a baby bump.”

He grinned as he sat upright, toweling his face.“Pregnant, huh? What do you know?”

“Yeah. It came as something of a surprise, to be honest.”

“Not to me.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Nope. I think when you take into consideration how those two lovebirds have been behaving—kissing any chance they get—it’s hardly surprising an accident would happen. And a shotgun wedding is the only way to go to spare the parents the embarrassment.”

“Those two lovebirds, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Kissing all over town.”

“That’s right.”

“Strange. As far as I know they haven’t even gone on their first date yet, not to mention that she is not aware of the way he feels about her as he hasn’t said a peep.”

“Not a peep, huh?”

“Not a single squeak.”

“What if I were to tell you that he figures all those times he joined her for dinner at her parents’ place counted as so many dates? And that the reason he hasn’t told her how he feels is that he didn’t want to rush into things?”

“I’m sure she doesn’t count a dinner at her folks as a date, seeing how she didn’t even invite him but he more or less was her uncle’s plus-one. And as for rushing into things, he should keep in mind that she’s perfectly capable of telling him when she’s feeling rushed and so far she’s feeling anything but rushed. Quite the opposite. She’s starting to wonder if he has any feelings for her at all.”

They stared at each other for a moment, then Chase took out his water bottle and quaffed deeply.“You know what?” he asked when he was done. “I think you’re right. Tagging along as your uncle’s plus-one doesn’t constitute a date. So why don’t I ask you out on a proper date right here, right now? Odelia Poole? Will you join me for dinner and a movie?”

She smiled.“I’ll think about it.”

“Why, you…” He made a grab for her but she deftly avoided his hands and fluttered off with a giggle. When she looked back, he was chasing her, a playful expression on his face. She squealed and darted away towards the back of the gym, stared after by the troop of Hells Angels, who seemed to enjoy the spectacle, judging from their loud cheers.

She flew out the back door and found herself in a small courtyard, where some old iron barbells and benches stood, probably used by the most hardcore fitness fanatics. As it was, the courtyard was empty, and as she searched around for an escape route, Chase was already upon her. He swept her up in his arms, and then kissed her deeply. She went under and gave herself up to his passionate embrace. There was nothing equivocal about his kisses this time. The man might not be great with words but his lips still told her everything she needed to know. As did his hands, which quickly roamed to places they’d never roamed before. And she wouldn’t have minded if he lay her down on one of the benches right now and had his way with her, if not a choir of voices suddenly alerted her to the fact that they were no longer alone.

“Why are Chase and Odelia fighting?” asked Dooley.

“They’re not fighting, Dooley,” said Max. “They’re kissing.”

“Kissing? But then why are his hands all over her?”

“That’s all part of the ritual. Humans who like each other touch each other all over.”

“Gran likes Odelia but I’ve never seen her touch her like this.”

“I think it’s romantic,” Harriet gushed. “The most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I think it’s disgusting,” said Brutus in his gruff voice.

“Brutus! It’s love!”

“It’s a lot of bodily fluids going into a lot of weird places. It’s unhygienic is what it is.”

“Brutus! You’re a brute!”

With extreme regret, Odelia extricated herself from Chase. It was a little hard to be caught up in the moment with this Greek choir commenting on her every move.

“Something wrong?” asked Chase, his face flushed.

She gestured with her head to the four cats, who sat on top of the wall looking down at them.

“That’s just a bunch of cats, babe.”

“That’s a bunch of my cats.”

He looked again and did a double take.“Christ, you’re right. What are they doing here?”

“I took Max and Dooley to the vet. Brutus and Harriet must have wandered off on their own.” She could hardly explain to Chase how the foursome was eager to solve the murder of Donna Bruce. She sat upright, pushing at her blond bob and adjusting her top, which had slid down with a little help from Chase.

Chase looked like he wanted to chase the cats away, but managed to resist the urge. He cleared his throat.“So what about that date, huh?”

“I would love to,” she said gratefully.

He smiled broadly.“Then it’s a date. Oh, and Odelia?”

“Mh?”

He fixed her with an intent look.“I like you. I like you a lot.”

She returned his smile and took his face in her hands.“I like you, Chase. Very much.”

And then they kissed again, only a little less exuberantly than before, but no less heartfelt.

“Aah,” Harriet gushed.

“Ugh,” Brutus groaned.

Chapter 11

We all rode home with Odelia. She was very chirpy after her time spent at the gym. I thought it probably had something to do with hormones. When humans work out, they release something called endorphins in their brains, which make them feel happy. Or it might be all the kissing and groping she was doing with Chase. If this kept up, she’d soon have babies, which is something that tends to happen when humans kiss a lot. Female humans suddenly have baby humans. I have to admit I was not looking forward to that at all. I kinda liked the arrangement we had right now: me, Odelia and Dooley had a great thing going here. We didn’t need another little human to come in and ruining everything. Not to mention that Chase would move in and seriously cramp up our style.

Odelia was so happy she had a stupid grin on her face all the way home, and didn’t say a word.

“So what did you find out about the murderer?” I finally asked, deciding that someone had to take things in hand and steer them on the right track again.

“Huh?” asked Odelia, snapping out of whatever daydream she was living.

“The Donna thing? We are still trying to find out who killed that poor woman, aren’t we?”

Odelia looked at Harriet, whose turn it was to ride shotgun, the three of us ensconced on the backseat.“What have you found out so far, Harriet?”

Harriet seemed taken aback. She probably hadn’t expected that leading an investigation was going to involve actual, you know, leading an investigation. “I, um…” she began, darting a desperate look at Brutus. But that big lug wasn’t much help either, as he just sat there, lost in thought. Probably still trying to get the image of Odelia and Chase out of his mind. I didn’t blame him. Watching humans smooch is a traumatic experience.

“Um…” Harriet repeated. Then she seemed to get an idea, judging from the way her furry face suddenly lit up with what might be termed the light of intelligence. Though it might also have been gas. “We could do an Internet search!” she exclaimed.

Odelia’s eyebrows rose. “An Internet search?”

“Yeah. Donna Bruce was an Internet entrepreneur, so there’s bound to be a lot of stuff about her on the Internet.”

“Oh, I’m sure there is,” said Odelia, though she sounded a little disappointed. When you have four feline sleuths at your disposal, an Internet search isn’t exactly what you’re looking for. She probably could do all the Internet searches she wanted to do herself. But being the good sport that she was, she smiled at Harriet and said, “Knock yourself out, honey.”

Harriet beamed, directing a triumphant look at me. I held up my paw, claw up, in a sign of appreciation, but under my breath I told Dooley,“What a chump.”

“Huh?” asked Dooley, waking up from a stupor.

“Harriet is going to do an Internet search on Donna. She hopes to find the killer that way,” I told him, just in case he hadn’t been following the conversation, which obviously he hadn’t. “And Odelia thinks it’s just the way to go.”

“And isn’t it?”

“Of course not. What are we going to find on the Internet that will lead us to the killer? I mean, it’s not as if whoever murdered Donna posted a message online announcing the fact. Nobody is that dumb.”

“Right,” said Dooley, descending into his stupor again.

I frowned at him.“What’s the matter with you? You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden.”

Dooley nodded.”Right,” he muttered, clearly not listening to a word I said.

I gave him a nudge.“Hey. What’s going on with you?”

He looked up.“Mh? Oh. I was just thinking is all.”

That immediately had me worried. When Dooley starts thinking, it’s bad news, as his cerebral capacity is too limited to allow for more than the occasional fleeting thought about food. It was obvious he was overtaxing his brain in a way that could prove detrimental. “Thinking about what?”

“Do you think Odelia and Chase are going to be married?” he asked finally.

“Yes, I do,” I said, understanding dawning. He’d been thinking along the same lines I had.

“I mean, what with all that kissing that was going on back there… The next step is usually that they get married, right?”

“I’m afraid so,” I said with a sigh.

“So who’s going to give Odelia away?” he asked. “I know she’ll probably ask you, seeing as that you’re her cat and all, but I consider myself her cat, too, and I love her a lot, so I would like to be considered for the honor as well.”

I looked up sharply.“That’s what you’re worried about?!”

He nodded sheepishly.“You’re my best friend, Max, but giving Odelia away would be like a dream come true. And since I figure she’s not the type to get married more than once, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, so…”

I rolled my eyes. I saw what was going on. Marge was a big fan of the Hallmark Channel, and Dooley must have caught a lot of those slushy romantic movies lately, and gotten the idea in his head he was supposed to give away the bride or something.“Look, Dooley,” I said, wondering how to launch into this without upsetting him. “The thing is that in this tradition it’s not the woman’s cat who gives her away. At least not to my knowledge.”

He frowned.“But I thought it was the one who loved her the most who gave her away? And there’s no one who loves Odelia more than me.”

“Well, I love Odelia a lot.”

“Oh, I know that. But I love her more.”

“How do you reckon that?”

“I just have a more loving personality, I guess. You have to admit that you can be something of a curmudgeon sometimes, Max. I mean, you live with Odelia and probably don’t appreciate what you’ve got. Since I don’t live with Odelia, but still get to spend a lot of time with her, I obviouslyappreciate her a lot more, which means I also love her a lot more.”

“That’s just not true!” I said a little heatedly. “I appreciate Odelia just as much as you do, maybe even more, and I love her more because she’s my human, not yours.”

Dooley raised his chin.“She may nottechnically be my human, but since I’m more lovable she loves me a lot more than she loves you.”

“You’re more lovable?I’m more lovable! And Odelia lovesme the most.”

“She does not. She loves me the most!”

“Does not!”

“Does too!”

“Not!”

“Too!”

“Guys, guys!” said Odelia, who must have overheard the discussion. She glanced at us through the rearview mirror. “Let’s keep it civil.”

“Odelia, Dooley says he loves you more than me,” I complained. “But that’s not possible, is it?”

“You’re arguing over who loves me more? Aww, that’s so sweet,” said Odelia.

“I love you the most,” said Dooley, “which means I get to give you away, right?”

“Give me away? Why would you want to get rid of me? I thought you just said you loved me.”

“It’s a tradition. Marge told me all about it. When a woman gets married, the one who loves her the most gives her away to the guy she’s getting married to. And since you’re getting married to Chase, I want to be the one to give you away.”

Odelia laughed.“Dooley, I’m touched that you would want to do that, but first of all, I’m not getting married anytime soon.”

“You’re not?”

“No, I’m not. And secondly, I’m pretty sure my dad would like to give me away. That’s also part of the tradition.”

“Your dad?” asked Dooley, disappointed.

“See?” I said. “I told you.”

“You’re not getting married?” asked Harriet, also entering the discussion.

“No, of course not. Who said anything about getting married?”

“But… you were kissing Chase.”

Odelia smiled indulgently.“Look, I like Chase. I like him a lot. And because I like him so much, I also enjoy kissing him. That’s what humans do. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to marry him.”

“Oh,” said Harriet, looking confused. She’d obviously been watching the same goop as Dooley. Damn that Hallmark Channel. Putting all these weird ideas in cats’ heads.

“I still think it’s disgusting,” Brutus muttered, making a face. “Yuck.”

“Brutus!” Harriet cried. “It’s not disgusting. It’s beautiful.” She sighed. “It’s love.”

“Well, not love, exactly,” I said. “It’s more a matter of hormones.”

“Oh, it is, is it?” asked Odelia with a laugh.

“Yeah. I don’t know how it works, exactly, but I’m pretty sure pheromones feature into the thing pretty heavily.” See? I don’t watch the Hallmark Channel but the Discovery Channel. That’s why I’m smart and the others are all dummies.

“It’s not all about pheromones, Max,” said Odelia softly, and she got that faraway look in her eyes again. I didn’t know why she got that look, but I’m pretty sure it had something with hormones, too. Whenever humans act funny, hormones are your safest bet. Just trust me on that.

We’d arrived home and Odelia dropped us off at the house. She walked in to get a bite to eat from the fridge and then installed us in front of the computer, so we could do ‘Internet searches’ to our hearts’ content. And just when Harriet had clicked on her first key, the doorbell rang. And asOdelia went to answer it, the glass sliding door opened and Gran waltzed in. “Is he here?” she asked in that croaky voice of hers.

“Is who here?” I asked suspiciously. I just hoped Gran hadn’t set up some kind of date with a man in Odelia’s house. After all that kissing stuff back at the gym I didn’t know how much more of this human lovemaking thing I could take right now.

“The UPS guy, of course. Who else?”

Just then, Odelia returned with a bulky package, a puzzled look on her face. When she saw Gran, that puzzled look turned into one of concern.“Please tell me you didn’t order any more Donna Bruce stuff, Gran.”

“Of course I ordered more Donna Bruce stuff,” Gran snapped. “I’m an old lady. I’m bored. I need to buy stuff so I can entertain myself. It’s what old people do.” She held up a bony finger. “And don’t give me that you’re-too-old-for-this-stuff crap. I get that enough from Tex. Now gimme.” And with these words, she snatched the package from Odelia’s hands and placed it on the living room table. In next to no time she ripped away the packaging and revealed the contents within.

I’d jumped down from the desk that held the computer and onto the chair that gave me a better vantage point to examine this new package. What I saw frankly worried me. There was a black mask, a whip of some kind, a pair of handcuffs, something that looked like a paddle, and a fuzzy, fluffy thing that may or may not have been a tickler. Huh?

Gran produced a fat chuckle and grabbed this new loot in her arms and started distributing it amongst the many pockets of her dress.“Pity Leo’s gone. He would have loved this stuff.”

“What is it?” asked Dooley.

She directed a keen look at him.“None of your business. You’re a little too young to know.”

“Are you going to arrest someone with those handcuffs?” asked Harriet.

“Sure. One hot stud—at least that’s what I hope.”

“Gran,” said Odelia reproachfully. “You can’t keep doing this. Dad’s going to kill you when he finds out.”

“Who’s going to tell him?”

“He’s going to know when he looks at his credit card bill.”

“They don’t itemize stuff. I’ll just tell him it’s adult diapers.”

“He’s your doctor. He would know if you needed adult diapers.”

“I’ll tell him it’s preventive. What?” she added when Odelia gave her a critical look. “It never hurts to be careful about these things.” She flicked the whip a few times, a look of relish on her wrinkled old face. “I’m gonna have so much fun!”

And then, before we could ask her any more questions, she was gone—out the door quick as a flash.

“I still don’t get it,” said Dooley. “That stuff is never featured on the Hallmark Channel.”

“It’s not on the Discovery Channel either,” I said, equally puzzled. I turned to Odelia. “Is it featured on any channel?”

“Yeah, are we missing something?” asked Dooley.

Odelia smiled.“Oh, it’s on a channel, all right, but not one destined for babies like you. Now, are you going to help me out with this Donna Bruce thing or not?”

Dutifully, we hopped down from the table and returned to our Internet search. Even with me and Dooley pooling our knowledge, gleaned from the Hallmark Channel and the Discovery Channel, there obviously was still a lot about the human experience that was alien to us. A lot of strange and wonderful things that were out there. But first… we had a murder to solve.

Chapter 12

Ransom Montll? lived in a dilapidated boarding house near the main road out of town. When Odelia and Chase arrived, a seedy-looking individual with a beer belly and a brown-bagged bottle of liquor in his hand sat playing fetch with his dog out on the front porch. He threw a stick in the direction of the road and the dog fetched it and returned it to the man’s feet. Each time the dog ran off, the man took a swig from his bottle, then bent down to pick up the stick and threw it away again.

They mounted the creaky porch, avoiding the one broken step, and Chase brought out his police badge.“Are you the owner of this establishment, sir?”

“That, I’m not,” said the man, slightly slurring his words.

“We’re looking for Ransom Montll?.”

“That, I am,” said the man, and hiccuped. He frowned at Chase. “Am I in some kind of trouble, officer?” He held up his liquor bottle, wrapped in the brown paper bag. “This is not what it looks like.”

“It’s not?”

The man shook his head decidedly.“Apple juice. Just plain old apple juice.”

“That’s fine,” said Chase, taking a seat next to the former producer. “I’m not interested in your juice, old-timer. My name is Chase Kingsley and this is Odelia Poole.”

“Nice to meet you, missy,” said Ransom, tipping an imaginary cap in Odelia’s direction.

“We’re looking into the murder of Donna Bruce.”

The man’s face turned into a scowl. “Donna Bruce? Someone murdered that old hag?”

“She wasn’t that old,” said Odelia.

“But she was a hag,” said the man, nodding to add emphasis to his words.

“And why is that, exactly?” asked Chase.

“She went out and ruined me, didn’t she?”

“What happened?” asked Odelia.

“Well, she was going to be in one of my movies. You may have heard of it.A Star is Born.”

Odelia frowned.“Wasn’t that with Barbra Streisand and Kris Kristofferson?”

“There’s also a version with Judy Garland and James Mason,” said Chase.

She looked at him admiringly.“You know your classics.”

“Big fan of old movies,” he intimated.

“So we were shooting a new version,” said Ransom, cutting through their chitchat, “and I had personally tapped Donna Bruce for the lead. I thought she’d be just great.”

“I didn’t know she could sing,” said Odelia.

“Oh, she could sing all right.”

“So she was really going to do this?” asked Odelia. “But I thought she retired from acting.”

“This was way before that funny website she built,” said the former producer. “Way, way before, back when the name Donna Bruce conjured up images of wonderful movies, and not golden dildos and the like.” He chuckled freely, then dissolved into a coughing fit. When he came out of it, he continued, “So everything was set. We had our stars, we had our director, we had one of the major studios on board, and that’s when tragedy struck.”

“A storm?” asked Chase. “A freak storm destroyed the sets?”

“Not a storm.”

“A stuntman died,” said Odelia knowingly. “Or a stuntwoman. Donna’s stunt double would have to be a woman, obviously.”

“No one died,” said the man, shuffling annoyedly.

“So what happened?” asked Chase.

“If you will just let me finish I’ll tell you what the hell happened!”

“I’m sorry,” said Chase. “Please continue.”

“I will,” he said, throwing the detective a look of censure. “Donna Bruce walked out, that’s what happened. And since the studio was dead set on her, that was also the end ofA Star is Born.”

“Wait, she walked out of the movie?” asked Odelia.

“That’s what I just said.” He raked his fingers through his wild mane of gray hair. “Said she was sick and tired of being an actress and she was going to start a family instead. So she walked out of what would have been the best part of her career.”

“So what did you do?”

“What could I do? I sued, of course!”

“You sued Donna Bruce?”

“Of course. She was ruining a movie I’d already sunk a big chunk of my own money in. So I sued.” He sagged a little. “And lost.”

Odelia glanced around at the rundown porch, paint peeling everywhere, the clapboards crooked and rotten in places, and the porch creaky and on the verge of collapse.“And then you ended up here,” she said softly.

The man nodded and took a swig from his‘apple juice.’ “Lost everything. My production company, my marriage, my life. And I’ve got Donna Bruce to thank for it.”

“It’s an odd coincidence that you ended up living not far from her, then,” said Chase.

The man laughed a humorless, hacking laugh.“Me not living far from her? Her not living far from me! I was the first to discover Hampton Cove. Used to live down the lane from the Donna Bruce place, long before she ever moved here. This was when I was still a big shot in the movie business. I had a condo in New York, a mansion in LA, another mansion in Colorado, and a beach house in Florida.” He gestured at the old porch. “Now this is my home, and Flea over there is my best friend.”

Flea, who’d patiently been waiting for Ransom to throw the stick again, his tail pounding the floor and his tongue wagging excitedly, gave a short bark. Ransom picked up the stick and threw it as far as he could aim it, which was a little too close to the road this time. A truck came roaring up, just as Flea hurtled into the road to pick up his stick.

“Flea!” cried Ransom, rocketing up from his seat.

But luckily the dog was smarter than his owner, for he deftly avoided the truck’s fender, waited patiently until he was safely out of the way, and then picked up his stick.

Ransom sat back down again, shaking his head.“Dumb dog,” he muttered.

Dumb human, Odelia thought, also shaking her head.

“So where were you this morning between seven and eight, Mr. Montll??” asked Chase.

“Right here on the porch, sipping my juice,” said the producer. “Why do you want to know?”

“That’s when Mrs. Bruce was murdered,” said Chase.

“Murdered!” the producer cried. “Donna Bruce was murdered?!”

“Didn’t we already establish that?” asked Chase with a frown.

“Murdered!” muttered the producer, staring before him. Then a keen look came into his eyes. “So that’s why you’re here, bugging me with all these questions.” He thought for a moment. “If I were you, I’d take a long, hard look at the husband. Tad Rip. He was the main reason Donna pulled out ofA Star is Born. Wanted his wife all to himself. Jealous of her career and jealous as hell of her co-stars.”

“So jealous he forced her to stop acting?” asked Chase.

“Pretty much. Couldn’t handle his wife being more successful than him, I guess.”

Odelia shared a look with Chase. This was the second person who’d pointed at Tad Rip as a potential suspect.

“Did anyone see you on your porch this morning at seven, Mr. Montll??” asked Chase.

“Of course.”

“Who?”

The man gestured at his dog.“Flea saw me. And he’s as honest as can be.”

Chase grimaced.“I’m afraid I’m going to need a human witness, sir.”

The man gestured around.“Ask anybody. They’ll all vouch for me. I never leave this porch. Heck, I almost live on this porch these days.”

“Don’t you have any plans to return to the movie business?” asked Odelia.

The man smiled a crooked smile.“Oh, I’ve got plenty of plans, honey, but no money to back them up. And ever since the Donna Bruce thing no friends to help me out, either.” He patted Flea’s back. “Except for Flea here. He’s been my loyal companion for years. Wouldn’t dream of deserting me, would you, old buddy?”

The dog barked once, acknowledging his master’s words. For an ex-green beret, Ransom Montll? looked pretty harmless, Odelia decided. And what was more, he hardly looked capable of carrying out such a sophisticated murder. Stealing and transporting a beehive, breaking into Donna’s house, locking her into her sauna and siccing the bees on her? Not exactly his cup of tea.

Chase seemed to feel the same way, for he thanked Mr. Montll? for his time, and then they were off.

“I don’t think he did it,” Chase intimated as they returned to their cars.

“I don’t think so either. And if he wanted to kill Donna, he would have done it years ago. And not way out here in the middle of nowhere with his brown paper bag and his dog called Flea.”

They looked back at the boarding house and Ransom gave them a wave. Odelia waved back. No, he looked harmless enough, she reckoned.

“Sad story, though. To be on top of the world one minute and down in the dumps the next.”

“Yeah, almost like the story ofA Star is Born,” Chase said. “Donna Bruce went on to become a big star with her website, while her mentor became a washout.”

“Ransom was her mentor?”

“Sure. Ransom Montll? was the man who gave Donna Bruce her very first shot at fame and stardom. He cast her in her breakout role. A prostitute with a heart of gold who gets involved with an honest man who tries to get her out of that racket.”

“The remake ofPretty Woman?”

“No. The remake ofIrma la Douce. Though I prefer the original.”

“Of course you do. So what’s next?” she asked, leaning against her car.

“Now we talk to the ex-husband.” He tapped the side of his nose. “And if my intuition is right, he just might be our guy.”

Chapter 13

It took us a long time to find out anything from the Internet. Cats aren’t exactly equipped to work on computers. For one thing, we don’t come outfitted with a set of digits that make for good typing, and if you use your claws it’s easy to totally wreck a regular computer keyboard. So Harriet tried to use her paw pads, but that proved really hit and miss. And we were just about to give up, when Dooley saw a picture of a nice kitty on the screen and touched it with his paw.

“Don’t touch the screen!” I yelled, but too late. And then the small picture of the kitty suddenly blew up into a big picture of the same kitty and we all stared at it.

“What just happened?” asked Brutus.

“I don’t know,” said Dooley. “I touched the screen and something changed.”

“Do it again,” Harriet urged.

So Dooley touched the screen again, careful not to use his claws, and the screen changed again, this time to a set of pictures of the same kitty posing up a storm.“So weird,” he said, staring from his paws to the screen. “Do you think I have magical paws? That must be it, right? I must have magical paws.” A look of absolute delight came over his face. “Imagine what I can do with my magical paws! Maybe everything I touch changes into something else!” And to try out this new theory of his, he immediately touched Harriet’s face.

“Hey!” she yelled, slapping his paw away. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I just wanted to change your frown into a smile,” he said sheepishly.

Harriet’s frown only deepened, debunking Dooley’s magical paws theory.

Meanwhile, Brutus had also put his big paw on the screen. Nothing happened and he growled with annoyance.“Stupid screen,” he grumbled.

“I think it’s one of those touchscreens,” I said, a memory stirring in the back of my mind. The computer Odelia had set up for us was her old work computer, and I seemed to remember her once telling me something about it being one of the first models with a touchscreen. Since I had no idea atthe time what a touchscreen was, I hadn’t really paid any attention to her words, but now it dawned on me. You touch the screen, and something happens!

“Touch that kitty,” I told Brutus.

“You’re not touching that kitty,” Harriet said when Brutus made to follow my instructions.

“But it’s not a real kitty,” he said now.

“I don’t care. You are not touching that kitty, Brutus, and that’s my final word!”

“So you touch that kitty,” I suggested.

“What? Eww! I’m not that kind of cat, Max.”

I groaned.“Okay, so I’ll touch the kitty.”

“Can I touch the kitty?” Dooley asked. “I like touching kitties.”

That much was obvious. Dooley placed his‘magical’ paw on the kitty’s face and suddenly it morphed into a ‘bio’ page, which told us the kitty’s name was Susan and she possessed a sweet and disarming personality. She also liked taking long naps on the couch and chasing her own tail.

“I like chasing my own tail!” Dooley exclaimed. “Looks like me and Susan are a match made in heaven.” And since he was having so much fun, he kept on putting his paw on the screen, scrolling down the page to read more about Susan’s daring and exciting habits.

We watched the phenomenon with fascination, and for the next five minutes found out everything there was to know about Susan, including her love of belly rubs. Only when Harriet had finally wrested back control over the computer, she managed to steer the Internet search in the right direction again. Half an hour later we were up to date on Donna Bruce, thanks to the power of the touchscreen and the tendency of the Internet to remember everything about everyone. Turned out Donna used to have a boyfriend, something even Odelia probably didn’t know. His name was Dexter Vald?s and he was the spitting image of Ricky Martin, only about two decades younger. For some strange reason, all the pictures we could find featured Dexter with naked torso, though that could have been Harriet, of course.

“It says here they broke up,” she said, having found a site called TMZ. “It also says Dexter felt emasculated in his boy toy role, especially after Donna wrote a blog post on donna.vip about him and his tiny wiener.” She looked up. “What is a wiener?”

“It’s a kind of sausage,” I said knowingly. “Some people really like it.”

“I like sausage,” Brutus grunted.

“Me too,” Dooley chimed in.

“Me too,” I said with a wistful sigh. No more wieners for me in the near future, though. Odelia had already tucked my usual kibble away in a safe place where I couldn’t find it, and replaced it with the special diet kind that tasted like cardboard. From now on, and until the scale dipped below what Vena had determined was my ideal body weight, it was the only food I was going to get, and no more than one bowl of the filthy stuff either.

Brutus gave me a smirk.“No more wieners for you, huh, Max?”

I scowled at him.“You don’t have to rub it in.”

“I believe I will,” he said. “You always told me your bulk was all muscle. Well, as it turns out that was a big, fat lie. It’s all flab, just like I thought.”

“It’s not flab. It is muscle. I just have too much of it is all.”

“You can’t have too much muscle,” he said, flexing his shoulder muscles. “No, just admit it, Max. You are one flabby tabby.”

Dooley laughed at this, but when I turned my scowl on him, he quickly stopped.

“Guys,” said Harriet urgently. “I don’t think Donna was referring to Dexter’s sausage after all. Her blog post was all about his… performance.”

I noticed her ears had taken on a reddish tinge, and her eyes were glittering brightly.“Performance? What performance?” I asked. Anything was better than to have to listen to Brutus’s taunts about my ‘bulk.’

“I think she was referring to his… sexual performance,” she said. She then turned to us, eyes wide. “I think a wiener is… a pee-pee.”

Now we were all staring at the screen, eagerly drinking in the details of Donna Bruce’s blog post. I’m not a great reader, but it soon became clear to me that the article was a lot more revealing than any human male would have appreciated. Not only was there a lot of talk about Dexter’s pee-pee and its lack of size and performance, there was also a long bit about his endurance or lack thereof. All in all, the piece wasn’t entirely flattering to Donna’s boy toy, and I could understand why the two of them hadn’t been a couple at the time of Donna’s untimely demise.

“But why would she write all that?” I asked. “That’s just a lot of very private stuff.”

“Some people are like that,” said Harriet knowingly. “They just enjoy sharing all of their private things with the world.”

“Judging from that TMZ article Dexter didn’t agree.”

“No, it must have hurt his chances with other females,” said Brutus. “No woman likes a guy with a small pee-pee.” When I frowned at him, he quickly added, “At least that’s what I’m guessing. Personally I have no problem in that department.”

Harriet gave him a small smile.“No, you definitely don’t.”

“Size matters,” said Dooley knowingly, and we all turned to him. “It does,” he said defensively. “The bigger the sausage the more meat. And we all like meat, don’t we?”

I slapped my brow.“Dooley, do you still think Donna was writing about meat?”

“Of course she was. A wiener is a kind of sausage. That’s what you just said.”

“It’s also a pee-pee,” I said. “Which is what Harriet just said.”

“What is a pee-pee?” asked Dooley with a frown.

Harriet groaned.“Oh, Dooley.”

Chapter 14

Odelia and Chase found Tad Rip, the illustrious ex-husband of whom they’d heard so much by now, presiding over lunch while a nanny had a hard time keeping his two boys in check. Sweetums and Honeychild turned out to be six-year-old twins, and quite a handful. Mr. Rip himself appeared distraught when Odelia and Chase were led out onto the patio by an assistant. The house where he lived was still under construction, as bare bulbs dangled from the concrete ceiling and boxes stood piled up all over the place.

“Don’t mind the mess,” said Tad, who looked like a million bucks in a power suit and a stylish pair of expensive sunglasses. “I just moved in last week.” He gave them an apologetic grimace. “Great timing, as it turns out.”

“Our condolences for your loss,” said Odelia as she took the proffered seat at the table.

“Thanks. Donna and I were divorced but she was still the mother of my boys. Cut it out, will you!” he hollered at the two rascals, who were hitting their nanny with super soakers. The girl screamed, trying to evade the twin beams of water.

“I didn’t know the kids were with you,” said Chase, looking out across the immaculately landscaped garden. At least that part of the house was ready. “It was my understanding that Mrs. Bruce had sole custody and denied you visitation rights?”

“She did,” said Tad as he removed his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. “But lately we’d become civil with each other again. We were even on speaking terms—we just talked last night, actually, mainly about the boys’ future. Our divorce might have been acrimonious but for the sake of Sweetums and Honeychild we decided to put our differences aside and work things out. Which is why I moved back out here—to be closer to the boys. I was going to have them every weekend while they spent the week with their mother.”

“What’s going to happen now?” asked Odelia.

The man shrugged, and she noticed the bags under his eyes.“No idea. I guess I’ll have them full-time from now on. Not what I was counting on but I’ll manage. I’ll have to.”

They stared out at the kids, who were now chasing the nanny around the yard.“They seem to have taken the news pretty well,” said Chase.

“It hasn’t sunk in yet. I told them this morning what happened—that their mommy now lives with the angels in heaven, looking down on them from up above. They thought that was pretty cool. Like Superwoman. I guess it’ll take them some time to come to terms with the whole thing.”

“I’m sorry to have to ask you this, Mr. Rip,” said Odelia, “but where were you this morning between seven and eight?”

“You can ask me anything you want. I just hope you catch whoever did this before they strike again. I was trying to wake up the kids. We were going to church and I needed them to get ready.”

“Is there anyone who can vouch for you?” asked Chase.

“Sure. Elsie was here—that’s the nanny. And Germaine—the housekeeper. Oh, and you just met Herman—he’s my executive assistant. And then there’s the executive protection detail—Franz and Hans. They guard the boys twenty-four seven.”

“They all live here?” asked Odelia.

“Yeah, they do. There’s also Arnold—the driver—but he doesn’t live on-site.”

“And they were all here with you when Mrs. Bruce was killed,” Chase said, just to make sure.

“Yeah, they were. A man in my position is rarely alone. I can’t afford to be. I’ve got a billion-dollar company to run and now I’ve got a family to think about as well. A lot of moving parts so any helping hand is more than welcome.”

“Do you have any idea who might be behind the murder of your ex-wife, sir?” asked Odelia.

The man frowned and rubbed his jaw.“Well, if I had to venture a guess, I’d take a long, hard look at Dexter. That’s Dexter Vald?s. He was Donna’s boyfriend for a couple of years, though they broke up not so long ago. Dexter has had a few bad things to say about Donna, especially after she wrote that article about him on hersite. I guess he didn’t take it too well.”

“Why? What happened?”

The business tycoon smiled.“Donna liked to live her life out in the open—for the world to see. She held nothing back, which was one of the reasons our marriage failed. I can’t afford to have every minute of every day shared with the rest of the world. If you’re a businessman you can’t operate like that. My competitors would have a field day if they could anticipate my next move. But Donna was a relentless marketer of her own life. She turned oversharing into a form of art. So when she decided to share with the world what happened between the sheets with Dexter, the guy wasn’t too happy about it, especially since he didn’t come out smelling of roses.”

“What do you mean?”

The man’s smile widened. “I don’t remember all the details, but there was a piece about the man’s tiny wiener that went viral, inspiring lots of memes, if that’s the term. Suffice it to say Dexter left in a huff, claiming she’d caused irreparable damage to his reputation. Which she probably had. Not that she cared one bit. Donna was self-centered that way. She didn’t care who she hurt in her relentless pursuit of fame and fortune.”

“You sound bitter,” Odelia remarked.

“I do? Well, maybe I was bitter—for a long time.” He glanced at Sweetums and Honeychild, who’d now resorted to turning the super soakers on each other and were screeching up a storm. “But when I look at what she gave me, my bitterness fades. Donna Bruce was a complicated woman, detectives, but she did at least one thing right: she was a loving mother.”

“Did she also share every minute of every day of the twins’ lives online?” asked Chase.

“No, she did not. Oddly enough that’s where she drew the line. Said the boys got to decide for themselves if they wanted to lead the kind of life she did, and as long as they were underage, she would protect their privacy with the fierceness of a lioness. Which she did.”

Chapter 15

Frankly I was growing a little tired of Harriet’s Internet search as the be-all and end-all of sleuthing, so when she started getting engrossed in an article about Blac Chyna, claiming it was giving her valuable insight into the celebrity mindset, I decided to bail out. Dooley, who’d grown as bored with the whole Internet sleuthing thing asI had, tagged along. Harriet may have been in charge of this investigation, but so far she hadn’t really uncovered all that much. We now knew Beyonc?’s twins Rumi and Sir Carter were teething, theReal Housewives of New York really didn’t get along, and theDuck Dynasty men had shaved their beards for some charity event. What we still didn’t know was the identity of Donna Bruce’s murderer.

And as we ambled along the street, we decided to go old school on this thing again: visit our usual haunts and interrogate every cat in town about what they knew and what they’d seen and heard. We wouldn’t get the latest intel on Justin Bieber,Duck Dynasty, or Blac Chyna, whoever they might be, but we might finally solve this murder case.

“Brutus was awfully quiet just now,” said Dooley. “Do you think he’s sick?”

“He’s henpecked is what he is,” I said.

“Henpecked? But he’s not a hen.”

“It’s just an expression. It means Harriet is now firmly in charge of his life.”

“Oh.” Dooley thought about this for a moment. “So that’s a good thing, right?”

“I guess so.” It hadn’t stopped him from bullyragging me about my diet, though, so the extent of his henpeckedness was still an open question. My money was definitely on Harriet, though. If anyone could get Brutus to toe the line, it was her.

Our first stop was the doctor’s office, where I hoped to exchange a few words with Gran. By now she was probably ensconced behind her trusty front desk, encouraging patients waiting for a medical t?te-?-t?te with Odelia’s dad to sit down and be quiet, so now might be a good time to ask her what she thought about Donna and what the word on the street was.

We waltzed into the waiting room, which was empty, and headed straight for Gran. She was deeply engrossed in Donna Magazine, probably picking out what else she could buy from the site. She started when we showed up behind her, and Dooley caroled out a blithe,“Hey, Gran!”

Pressing a hand to her heart, she cried,“You scared me! Creeping up on me like that.”

“Sorry about that,” said Dooley. “We just thought we’d pay you a visit.”

“Actually we wanted to find out if you’d heard anything about the Donna Bruce case,” I said. “You know. Some new scuttlebutt or something.”

“Yeah, Odelia put Harriet in charge of the investigation but all she does is read stories about Justin Bieber on the Internet,” Dooley explained.

“I haven’t heard anything, to be honest,” said Gran thoughtfully. “People don’t really seem to be tuned into the whole Donna Bruce drama.” She shrugged her bony shoulders. “I guess Donna was an acquired taste—more for the discerning cognoscenti like me.” She tapped her glossy magazine, which was open on an article extolling the healing power of crystals. Gran leaned down and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Has another package arrived by any chance?”

We both shook our heads.“Nope,” I said.

Gran’s lips tightened into an expression of disapproval. “They promised me it would arrive today.”

“But you already had two packages today,” I reminded her.

“So? Three’s the charm. This third package is the bee’s knees. The absolute cream of the crop. It’s a…” She hesitated, taking in our curious expressions. Then she shook her head. “I’d better not tell you. This is for adults only.”

“But we are adults,” said Dooley. “I’m four, which in human years is…” He thought hard, but finally had to give up.

“You’re still too young,” said Gran. “I don’t want to spoil your innocence. Odelia would never forgive me. Which reminds me—when a new package arrives, can you let me know right away? Odelia doesn’t even have to know about it.”

“Sure,” I said. “We’ll be your eyes and ears, Gran.”

She smiled.“I will make it worth your while.” She opened a desk drawer and took out a small packet of Cat Snax, tore it open and distributed its contents on the floor.

“Oh, gee, Gran!” I cried, digging in with relish. “How did you know these are my favorite?!”

Her smile widened.“Grandmothers know these things, Max. And if you keep me informed about the UPS guy arriving, there’s a lot more where this came from.”

“But he’s not supposed to,” said Dooley. “Max, you’re not supposed to. You’re on a diet.”

“Diet schmiet,” said Gran. “You only live once, Max. So you better enjoy it while you can.”

“My kind of woman,” I said, swallowing down some more of the tasty treats.

“But he’s too fat!” Dooley cried. “Vena said he’s going to get heart ar—arithmetic.”

“Arrhythmia?” asked Gran. “Don’t listen to doctors, Dooley. They’ll only try to scare you into giving up the best things in life. Take me for example. Tex has been telling me for years I shouldn’t drink coffee. That it’s bad for me. Well, no doctor in the world is going to make me give up coffee.” And to show us she meant business, she took a sip from her cup of coffee, slurping loudly and smacking her lips with relish. “You just enjoy your Cat Snax, Max,” she said, “and don’t let that nasty Vena take them away from you.”

I looked up, having devoured the entire packet.“Thanks, Gran. I think you just graduated to being my favorite person on the planet.”

“You can’t do that,” said Dooley, alarmed. “She’s my favorite person on the planet.”

“She can be both our favorite person on the planet,” I told him.

“She can?” he asked, surprised.

“Sure. There’s no limit on how many people’s favorite person you can be.”

“Oh, crap,” Gran suddenly said, looking up in alarm. When I saw Odelia peeking down at us from across the counter, I knew we were in trouble. Big trouble.

Chapter 16

“Max! Gran!” Odelia didn’t know who she should be mad at more: Gran for providing Max with these sugary snacks that would ruin his diet, or Max for accepting and eating them.

“I was giving him what he needs,” said Gran snappishly. “You can’t expect him to subsist on such a crappy diet.”

“He’s too fat. He has to go on a diet,” she said. “If he doesn’t, he might get all kinds of diseases.”

“Says who?”

“Says Vena!”

Gran waved a deprecating hand.“Who listens to stupid doctors?”

“I do—you do—we all do!”

“Not me. Uh-uh. If I’d listened to your father I’d have stopped working a long time ago, and would be sitting at home crocheting. He seems to think that a woman my age has no business being out and about and enjoying life to the fullest.”

“That’s not true and you know it. Dad was the one who told you to work past your retirement. He said you’re way too active to sit at home and do nothing.”

“Look, Max is my baby and if I can’t even spoil my babies…”

Odelia’s eye fell on the copy of Donna Magazine. “Don’t tell me you’ve been ordering more of that Donna junk.” When her grandmother didn’t respond, she cried, “Gran!”

“What? I need this stuff. I need all of it!”

“You don’t need any of it. If Dad knew you’ve been ordering online again, he’d cut up his credit cards and make sure you never get near a computer again.”

“Well, he won’t know if you won’t tell him, will he?”

Just at that moment, the door to Dad’s office opened and Tex Poole himself walked out. Dad was a big and bluff man, well-liked and respected by the Hampton Cove community. He was also a great doctor. “What’s going on here?” he asked. “I thought a fight had broken out or something.”

“A fight has broken out,” Odelia assured him. “Gran has been giving Max Cat Snax.”

“Oh?” asked Dad. “And that’s bad because…”

“Because Max is on a diet. He’s not supposed to eat anything other than the diet kibble Vena has prescribed him.”

“Right,” Dad said. “Of course.” He wagged a dutiful finger in Gran’s face. “Only diet food from now on, Vesta. No more Cat Snax for Max.”

“But he loves his Cat Snax,” said Gran. “And look at him. He’s not fat. He’s just the right size for his body type.” To prove her point, she tried to pick Max up from the floor and deposit him on her desk. Unfortunately, the ginger cat proved too heavy and she couldn’t manage. “Thatdoesn’t mean a thing,” she said defiantly.

Dad stepped into the breach and picked Max up and studied him. The way he was dangling from Dad’s large hands, his hind paws stretched out and his face a mask of annoyance, it appeared the ginger tabby wasn’t too happy to be handled like this.

“He is a bit on the heavy side,” Dad agreed. “And he could definitely use some more exercise.”

At this, Max’s eyes went wide. “Exercise?” he cried. “I don’t need no stinkin’ exercise!”

“Maybe you’re right, Dad,” said Odelia. “If he’s not going to follow his diet, maybe we should just make sure he’s more active. Maybe I should take him to the gym with me from now on. Make him run on the treadmill. A couple of miles a day would do the trick.”

“Not the treadmill!” Max cried. “I hate the treadmill!”

“They sell special cat treadmills nowadays,” said Dad. “It’s more like a big hamster wheel, built for cats, but it’ll do the trick.”

“But I’m not a hamster!” Max yelled, still dangling from Dad’s hands. “Please—I’ll be good. I won’t eat Cat Snax anymore. I’ll stick to my diet from now on.”

“Or maybe you could just take him for a walk every day,” Dad continued. “You could buy him one of those leashes—like the ones they use for dogs—and you walk him twice a day. That should take care of that excess weight.”

Odelia thought about this.“You know, Dad?” she finally said. “That might not be such a bad idea.”

“No! I’ll be good! I’ll eat that diet crap—I mean that diet food!”

“Or I could do both,” said Odelia. “I could feed him the diet kibbleand take him for a walk every day.” She nodded, her mind made up. “It’s good for you, Max, and it will speed up your weight loss. Kickstart it.” She ignored the look of panic in the cat’s eyes. “And who knows, if you lose those pounds fast enough, I might even let you have some Cat Snax from time to time.”

“I just think you’re torturing the poor creature,” said Gran disdainfully.

“And as for you,” Odelia said, turning to her grandmother, “no more ordering stuff online. Is that understood?”

“Has she been ordering online again?” asked Dad, surprised.

“Loads of stuff. She’s been shipping it to my address.” Gran darted a quick look in Max’s direction and Odelia saw what was going on here. A secret alliance between cat and human. No more, though. She wasn’t going to condone this kind of subterfuge. “Dad, I think you better cancel your credit cards.”

Gran looked horrified.“You can’t do that!”

“Oh, but I can,” Dad assured her. “And I probably should.” He seemed to waver for a moment. “Of course, it’s a whole hassle to apply for new credit cards. Maybe if you promise me that from now on you’ll behave, I won’t have to take such a drastic step.”

Gran nodded anxiously.“I promise! From now on, no more ordering online!”

“Dad, don’t fall for those empty promises. You know she’ll break them the first chance she gets.”

“Well, I for one believe her,” said Dad.

“You’re a good man, Tex,” said Gran. “And an ever better son-in-law. I just knew I was doing the right thing when I advised Marge to marry you and not that bum Jock Farnsworth.”

Dad frowned at this.“Vesta,” he warned.

“Well, that’s what happened! Good thing I told Marge to pick you.” She gave Dad a radiant smile.

Odelia looked from Gran to her dad.“Who is Jock Farnsworth?”

“Nobody,” said Dad quickly, throwing Gran a dark look.

“He was your mother’s boyfriend around the time she was dating your father,” said Gran.

“Mom was dating two guys at the same time?”

“Can you imagine?” Gran chuckled. “Your mother was quite the hot chick. She had so many suitors we had to fight them off with a stick, your grandpa and me. But when she told me she couldn’t decide between Jock and Tex, I was the one who made her pick Tex.”

Dad rolled his eyes. He was obviously not happy with Gran raking up this ancient family history. Odelia narrowed her eyes at Dad. So that’s why he was so easy on Gran using his credit card. She was holding this Jock Farnsworth over his head.

“Who’s Jock Farnsworth?” she asked again.

“Nobody!” Dad insisted.

“Franklin Farnsworth’s kid,” said Gran.

“Franklin Farnsworth? The chicken wing guy? The richest man in Hampton Cove?

“He’s not that rich,” Dad muttered darkly.

“He is super rich,” Gran said with a smirk. “And now Jock’s poised to step into his father’s shoes and take over the family business,he’ll be the richest man in town. And he could have been your daddy, Odelia.”

She stared at her grandmother. It was hard to believe Mom had dated Franklin Farnsworth’s son once upon a time. Talk about ghosts from the past.

“Are we done talking about Jock Farnsworth?” asked Dad irritably.

“Sure, whatever you say, Tex,” said Gran, still that smirk on her face. She had Dad just where she wanted him and she knew it.

“What happened to Jock?” asked Odelia. “After Mom broke up with him, I mean.”

“Well, let me see,” said Gran, pretending to think hard. “Oh, that’s right. He married Grace Carpenter—Ralph Carpenter’s only daughter.”

“Ralph Carpenter. The second richest man in town.”

“Sure. Ralph and Franklin always dreamed of joining their families. Marge breaking up with Jock paved the way.”

So not only had Mom dated the richest kid in Hampton Cove, but now that kid was married to the richest girl in town. And no one had ever told her! Dad was still scowling at Gran, so she patted his shoulder.“Mom made the right decision, Dad,” she assured him.

“You think so?” he asked, not seeming convinced.

“She married my dad, didn’t she?”

Dad smiled and gave her a hug.“Thanks, honey. That’s very sweet of you.”

“Franklin Farnsworth was bad news anyway,” said Gran. “Imagine Marge marrying into that family and spending every holiday at Farnsworth Castle, having to be nice to Irma Farnsworth.” She shivered. “We had a narrow escape there, Tex.”

“We sure did,” said Dad softly.

Odelia wanted to know more about these secrets from her family’s past, but both Tex and Gran were eager to change the topic, so she decided to leave it at that. She’d just ask Mom instead.

“Actually the reason I dropped by was to ask you about Donna Bruce,” Odelia told her dad.

“Oh, right. The murder case. Terrible business, that. Simply terrible.”

“Was she a patient of yours?”

“No, she wasn’t. She used a concierge doctor. Though I knew of her, of course. Before she became a lifestyle tycoon she was a wonderful actress.”

“The bee stings,” said Odelia. “I always thought bee stings weren’t lethal?”

“Well, they can be if you get enough of them,” said Tex. “And then there’s the fact that some people are allergic and can go into anaphylactic shock. I guess Donna was one of those people.”

“I don’t think so,” said Odelia. “The coroner would have mentioned it in his report. The cause of death was definitely the bee stings. She apparently suffered thousands of them in a very short amount of time.”

“That would do it,” said Dad. “The average person can tolerate ten stings per pound of body weight. So she must have sustained a lot of them.”

“But could she have survived the attack?”

“Very unlikely,” said Dad. “From what I understand, thousands of bees were unleashed on the poor woman. And the fact that she was in the sauna, with nothing to protect her, means she would have suffered stings all over her body. Whoever planned this must have thought things through.”

Gran was shaking her head.“Who could have done such a terrible thing?”

“Well, as it turns out Donna Bruce made a lot of enemies over the years,” said Odelia. “She was not a well-liked woman.”

“I can see that,” said Dad, nodding. “She had a reputation for being difficult and demanding.”

“I hope you catch the culprit, honey,” said Gran. “Donna was my hero. I wouldn’t know what to do without some of the stuff she advised on her website.”

Odelia remembered the jade eggs and thought Gran could have done without them with no trouble at all. Then again, maybe Dad was right. If Gran really wanted to buy all this stuff, and he didn’t mind funding her Donna fixation, who was she to stop her?

Picking up her two cats, she left the doctor’s office and set foot for the police station. She was meeting with her uncle and Chase to discuss the case and this time she wanted Max and Dooley to be present when she did. Chase might think it a little strange when she brought two cats to the meeting but so be it. He would just have to get used to the fact that she was a crazy cat lady, as he’d told her on more than one occasion.

Chapter 17

“So how did your sleuthing session with Harriet and Brutus go?” she asked as they were walking down the street, en route to the police station.

“Terrible,” Max sighed. “We now know everything about Justin Bieber’s tattoos and Blac Chyna’s favorite designers. We even know how many nannies Rumi and Sir Carter have—”

“Rumi and Sir Carter?”

“Beyonc? and Jay-Z’s twins,” said Dooley knowingly. “They’re very cute.”

“—but we still don’t know a thing about who killed Donna Bruce,” Max finished. “Oh, but we did find out she had a boyfriend with a tiny wee-wee. His name is—”

“Dexter Vald?s. Yes, Donna’s ex-husband told us about him. He looks like a great suspect.”

“What about the ex-husband?” asked Max. “I thought he did it?”

“He has a solid alibi. He was with the boys. Sweetums and Honeychild.”

“Of course he was.”

Odelia looked down, noticing that Max’s breath was a little labored. “Are you all right down there, honey? Do you want me to carry you?”

“No, I’m fine,” said Max, holding up a paw. “Never felt better.”

But judging from the way he walked, he was having trouble with his weight. He lumbered, his step not as graceful as it used to be. It frankly worried her.“Don’t eat Cat Snax anymore, Max,” she urged. “That stuff’s full of sugar. It’s not good for you.”

“I know,” he said. “It’s just that I’m hungry all the time.”

“Drink more water,” Dooley advised. “Whenever I’m hungry and I don’t feel like eating, I just drink a lot of water—really fill up my tummy. And then I’m not hungry anymore.”

“That’s the worst advice I’ve ever heard,” Max grumbled. “Drink more water. I’m hungry, Dooley, not thirsty.”

“But if your stomach is full, you won’t be hungry. And water doesn’t have any calories, or does it?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Odelia assured him. “Listen to Dooley, Max. Whenever you get hungry, just drink more. Maybe you’ll be able to handle your cravings that way.”

Max gave her a dubious look. It was obvious he wasn’t buying it.

They arrived at the police station and she entered, holding the door for the cats. Usually the feline duo snuck around the back and lounged on Chief Alec’s windowsill. Today she wanted them to be present in the room, though. She hoped they could help find out what was going on.

“Hey, I don’t think we were ever in here,” said Dooley, looking around excitedly.

“Yeah, almost like being invited to visit the Queen of England,” said Max.

They passed Dolores and set foot for her uncle’s office. She entered without knocking, as usual, and took a seat across the desk from the Chief, who sat discussing the case with Chase.

“I see you brought your feline little friends,” said Uncle Alec amiably as he glanced down at Max and Dooley. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I found them wandering down the street and figured I’d better take them along, in case they got lost again,” she said.

Uncle Alec nodded. He’d gotten the message. Chase, however, seemed surprised. “You’re awfully protective of those cats, aren’t you? Can’t they find their own way home? I always thought cats had some kind of homing instinct?”

“They do,” said Odelia, “but Max has been having some medical issues. He needs to be watched closely.”

“Medical issues, huh?” asked Max with an offended look at Odelia. “So now all of a sudden I’m an invalid? Thanks for nothing.”

She smiled down at the spreading ginger cat.“You’re welcome, Max.”

“Mh? What was that?” asked Chase.

“Oh, I was just talking to myself.”

“She does that a lot,” Uncle Alec explained. “Even as a child she was always talking to herself. Drove us crazy.”

“Did she now?” asked Chase, darting a curious look down at Max and Dooley.

“So what did your dad have to say?” asked Uncle Alec, getting down to business.

“He said that whoever murdered Donna knew what they were doing. They used enough bees to make sure the attack would be deadly, even if Donna proved not to be allergic to bee stings.”

“So we’re dealing with a professional,” Chase grunted. “First time I’ve ever heard of bees being used as a murder weapon.”

“People underestimate how many bees it takes to kill a person,” said Odelia. “Stings from bees might be very painful, but they are rarely deadly.”

“So do you think we should look at beekeepers?” asked Chase.

“I doubt it,” said Uncle Alec. “No beekeeper would sacrifice his precious bees for this kind of thing. It’s hard enough to keep them alive, with bees dying out at a troubling rate and beekeepers losing large percentages of their hives. It’s a huge investment in both monetary terms and time-wise.”

“So we’re looking for someone who wanted Donna dead and knew a thing or two about bees.”

“Stands to reason that the person who stole the hives would have suffered a few bee stings in the process,” Uncle Alec said thoughtfully. “So that’s one other thing to look into.”

“What about the boyfriend?” asked Odelia. “Any sign of this Dexter Vald?s yet?”

“So far nothing,” said Uncle Alec. “We did find out he still lives in town, but he wasn’t home when we sent some officers by to pick him up. But don’t worry. We’ll find him soon enough. I put out an APB for his arrest.”

Just then, there was a loud altercation in the hallway, and when Odelia got up to take a closer look, she saw that two officers were bringing in a handsome-looking man who was the spitting image of Ricky Martin, only two decades younger. He was handcuffed and shouting at the officers.

“Dexter Vald?s,” said one of the officers, panting slightly from the exertion of subduing the man. “We picked him up at Pier’s Pont. Bar fight.”

“I hate Donna!” the man suddenly screamed at the top of his lungs. “I hate Donna and I’m glad she’s dead!”

Chapter 18

It was the first time we got to sit in on a police interrogation and I was adamant to make the most of it. I was hungry, though, so first I needed a snack. So when no one was watching, I snuck into Chief Alec’s office and quickly found what I was looking for. While I was in there before I’d noticed the chief kept a half-eaten meatball sub in his bottom drawer. The scent had been driving me crazy.

“Max! What are you doing?!” Dooley shouted from the door.

“I’m foraging! What does it look like I’m doing?!”

“But you can’t! You promised Odelia you would stick to your diet!”

“I lied, okay? I can’t stand it anymore, Dooley. I’m not like you. I can’t fill my stomach with water and pretend I’m not hungry! I’m starving!”

So I skewered the meatball from between the two buns with one nail and popped it into my mouth. Yummy. Then I went looking for a second meatball, which I hoped was in there somewhere.

“Max! Someone’s coming!” Dooley suddenly yelled. “Too late!”

“What are you guys doing in here?” asked Odelia, entering the office at a trot. She picked up a file from the desk and glanced down at me. She took one look at the meatball sub—now sans meatball—and her brows knitted into a frown. “Max! You’re cheating on your diet again!”

“No, I’m not,” I said.

She planted a hand on her hip.“I can see the sauce dripping from your lips, Max.”

Oops. I quickly swiped my tongue along my lips.“There. All gone,” I said, then burped.

She shook her head.“Oh, Max. What am I going to do with you?”

“I told him he shouldn’t!” Dooley said.

“Tattletale!” I hissed.

“Come on, you two,” said Odelia. “We don’t have time for this. We’re about to interrogate Dexter Vald?s.”

She ushered us out of the office and closed the door. I could have told her this wasn’t necessary, as I’d already determined there wasn’t a second meatball inside that sub. Uncle Alec must have dug it out and eaten it himself.

We followed Odelia down the corridor and then into a small room, where a mirror offered a view of a second, even smaller room. We hopped up on the table at Chief Alec’s instigation and made ourselves comfortable while Odelia joined Chase in the next room and sat down across from Dexter Vald?s. In my personal opinion the man only barely resembled Ricky Martin. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks stubbled and his hair unkempt. He might have been younger, but right now he looked like a much seedier and disheveled version of the fabled Latino heartthrob and hit sensation.

“So, Dexter,” said Chase, opening the proceedings, “you hate Donna Bruce so much you’re happy she’s dead, huh?”

The man seemed a lot less vocal about his hatred of Donna Bruce than before. He gave Chase a wary look.“Look, dude, when I said that I didn’t really mean it.”

“Oh, backpedaling are we?”

“You had a fight at Pier’s Pont just now,” said Odelia. “When the owner called the police you were trying to shove a billiard ball down the throat of another patron, telling him your wiener was the biggest wiener in wiener history. Is that correct?”

Dexter nodded.“That sounds about right. In my defense, he made fun of my wiener.”

“Could this be related to the article Donna wrote about your wiener?” asked Chase.

“It’s got everything to do with that article,” Dexter confessed. “If she hadn’t written that article my life wouldn’t have turned into a vaudeville act. Now everyone is making fun of my wiener. I haven’t even had a girlfriend in months, all because of that damn article.”

“So you did hate Donna Bruce, and you did want to kill her,” said Chase.

The man threw up his arms.“How would you feel when someone shared the size of your wiener with the world, dude?”

“I’d feel comfortable enough in my own skin not to let it bother me,” said Chase.

“Bullshit. No man likes to have his wiener become the butt of a joke. I suffered, all right? And that’s just what she wanted. My wiener isn’t tiny. At least not as tiny as she made it out to be. My wiener is just fine. In fact my wiener is nothing short of majestic and I can prove it.” He got up and started removing his pants, which was a little hard to do with the handcuffs restricting his movements. Chase pushed him down in his seat again.

“Sit down, buddy,” the burly cop said. “I’m not interested in the size of your junk. All I want is for you to tell me where you got those bees and how you got them into Donna’s house.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Bees? What are you talking about?”

“You stole those bees and then you transported them to Donna’s house. How did you know how to handle them?”

“But I don’t know anything about bees.” Then understanding seemed to dawn on him. “Oh, you think I killed Donna? With bees? Are you nuts?”

“No, but I think you are if you’re going to claim you’re innocent. You practically confessed to murdering your ex-girlfriend. Now all we need to establish is how you did it.”

“But I didn’t kill her!”

“You just told us you did!”

“No, I didn’t! I just said I’m happy she’s dead. I would never hurt anyone—least of all Donna. She might have written all that stuff about my wiener but I genuinely liked her. We had a great time together.” He squinched his eyes closed. “Look, dude. I say a lot of dumb shit, but that doesn’t mean I mean any of it.”

“Then tell me where you were at seven this morning, when Donna was murdered.”

“At Pier’s Pont, of course, where you guys picked me up.”

“You expect me to believe you hang around at bars at such an early hour?”

“No, I expect you to believe I hang around at bars at such a late hour. I’d been there all night. Just ask Johnny, the bartender. He knows my face. I’m a regular.”

“Johnny Dusky,” Chase muttered, checking his notes. “That would be the guy who called in the altercation.”

“Yeah, I think he got annoyed when I started rearranging the furniture,” Dexter said with a grin.

Dooley gave me a nudge.“Looks like the guy didn’t do it, Max.”

“Looks like you’re right,” I agreed. “Another dead end, huh?”

“We seem to be running into a lot of dead ends lately, Max. Do you think we’re losing our touch?”

“It’s this diet. It’s making me feel weak. I can’t think straight when I’m hungry, and I’m hungry all the time.”

“You just had a giant meatball!”

“Just the one, though. I could eat ten giant meatballs and still feel hungry.”

Just then, two more cats joined us. They were Harriet and Brutus.

“You guys!” Harriet yelled, gracefully jumping up on the desk. “I know who killed Donna!”

“You do?” I asked.

“She does,” said Brutus proudly, also joining us. “We figured it out together, didn’t we, sugar pie?”

“We sure did, scrunchy munch.”

“So?” asked Dooley. “Who did it?”

“Maureen Cranberry!”

Dooley and I exchanged a puzzled glance.“Who’s Maureen Cranberry?” I asked.

“She’s a woman who filed charges against Donna Bruce for burning her… you know.”

Curiouser and curiouser.“No, I don’t. Burning her what?”

She leaned in, and faux-whispered,“Her business!”

“What business?” asked Dooley.

Harriet heaved an exaggerated sigh.“She bought one of those vajayjay steamers and accidentally burned her vajayjay.”

“What’s a vajayjay?” asked Dooley.

“A woman’s business!”

Dooley turned to me.“I don’t get it, Max.”

I had to admit I didn’t get it either. Harriet was now definitely speaking in riddles. Just then, Odelia and Chase walked out of the interview room, while Dexter was led out by a uniformed officer, probably to cool off in one of the cells. “Hey, Harriet—Brutus,” said Odelia. “What’s up?”

“We found the killer!” Harriet cried.

“Yeah, it’s a woman who burned her business on a vajayjay steamer,” I said. “Whatever that is.”

“Maureen Cranberry,” Harriet clarified. “I found her name after a long and very thorough Internet search. She ordered one of Donna’s vajayjay steamers and ended up burning her business so she sued Donna for damages and extreme emotional suffering and trauma. She lost, though, but I’m sureshe’s still very sore.”

Odelia smiled.“I’ll bet she is.”

Chase frowned.“Who are you talking to?”

“She’s talking to herself again,” Uncle Alec said. “I told you. It’s a weird habit she just doesn’t seem to be able to shake. Isn’t that right, honey?”

“We need to talk to Maureen Cranberry,” Odelia said in response. “She might be our killer.”

Chase’s frown deepened. “Where did that come from, all of a sudden?”

Odelia gave him her best smile.“Just a hunch. Women’s intuition. Are you coming?”

“Hey, what about me?” asked Harriet. “I found Maureen!”

“Well, come on, then,” Odelia said. “What are you waiting for?”

Four cats tripped after Odelia, drawing puzzled glances from Chase. Then Dooley asked,“What’s a vajayjay?”

Chapter 19

“So what’s with this habit of talking to yourself?” Chase asked. “A habit, I can’t help but notice, which seems to grow worse when your cats are around. A lot worse, actually.”

Chase was driving his police pickup, Odelia riding shotgun, her assortment of cats in the bed of the truck. Odelia had wanted to put the cats in the backseat, a place usually reserved for arrestees, but Chase had vocally demurred. Claimed he’d just cleaned up the vomit from the last drunk and disorderly he’d arrested and didn’t want to have to scrape a bunch of hairballs from the backseat now that he got it all nice and puke-free again.

Odelia shrugged.“It’s just a bad habit, Chase. Get over it.”

“No, but why does it grow worse when your cats are around? It’s almost as if you’re talking to them, and they’re talking back to you.”

She let rip a careless laugh.“Talking to my cats—you should hear yourself, Detective Kingsley. How crazy that sounds.”

He smiled.“I know it sounds crazy, but please bear with me. Isn’t it possible that those amazing powers of intuition you always claim to possess—”

“I don’tclaim to possess amazing powers of intuition. Ihave amazing powers of intuition.”

“Okay, I’ll grant you that. But isn’t it possible that those amazing powers of intuition are somehow connected to that ragtag collection of felines you surround yourself with?” He held up his hand. “I know this sounds crazy, but I’ve given it a lot of thought.”

“Have you now? That must have been quite the effort.”

He gave her a comical look.“It’s been scientifically proven that humans and their pets share a sacred bond of some kind. That they somehow influence each other. All I’m saying is that it’s possible that having those cats around has a positive influence on your ability to sniff out clues and find out stuff.”

“It’s possible,” she agreed. Little did he know how possible it really was!

He gave her a keen look.“You know what? I think I just discovered your little secret.”

She swallowed away an uncomfortable lump.“You have?”

“Sure. Those cats bring out the best in you.”

She smiled with relief.“Of course they do.”

“So when are you going to tell me how the name Maureen Cranberry came up?”

She thought quick.“I did a long and very thorough Internet search, and discovered that Maureen bought one of those vagina steamers Donna sells on her site. Maureen ended up burning her business and suing Donna for damages and extreme emotional suffering and trauma.”

“Don’t tell me. She lost?”

“She did.”

“Which makes her a great suspect in my book,” Chase grunted. “Great work, Odelia. You’re quickly becoming my favorite ace sleuth.”

She gave him a chipper smile.“Gee, thanks, Detective. That means a lot coming from you.” Little did he know that the real ace sleuth was riding in the bed of the truck, along with three other ace sleuths.

They’d arrived at Donna’s house and Odelia frowned. “Are you sure this is the right way?”

“Yeah. Turns out Maureen Cranberry is one of Donna’s neighbors. And get this. She’s a member of the same neighborhood association Alpin Carr? belongs to.” He gestured to the small monitor in the center of the console, where Mrs. Cranberry’s file had been pulled up.

Odelia squinted at the screen.“This is all gibberish, Chase. What am I looking at?”

“She was at the demonstration this morning. The one where Alpin was arrested? Officers took down the names of everyone present and Mrs. Cranberry was one of them.”

Chase pulled the car over onto the shoulder and got out. Across the street, a more modest dwelling than Donna Bruce’s majestic mansion stood, a lone mailbox announcing here lived Maureen Cranberry.

She also got out and watched as Max, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus crossed the road, making their way past the gate and onto private property. Her very own feline army, she thought with a smile.

Chase rang the bell and soon the gate slid open and they walked up the short paved driveway to the front of the house. Mrs. Cranberry opened the door and watched them arrive, her arms folded across her chest, an expression of suspicion on her face. And as they drew nearer, Odelia saw to her surprise that the woman was the spitting image of Donna Bruce. The same athletic body type, the same facial structure, and the exact same long blond hair. She could have been Donna’s sister.

Chase displayed his badge.“Detective Chase Kingsley. Hampton Cove PD. And this is Odelia Poole. Civilian consultant. We’re investigating the murder of one of your neighbors. Donna Bruce.”

The woman’s scowl deepened. “What’s Donna’s death got to do with me, Detective?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out, Mrs. Cranberry. May we come in?”

Reluctantly, the woman stepped aside to allow them inside. To Odelia’s surprise, a large picture portrait of Donna Bruce dominated the foyer, and as they passed into the parlor, the covers of every Donna Magazine that had ever been published had been framed and put up on the walls.

“You’re quite the fan, aren’t you, Mrs. Cranberry?” asked Chase, studying the setup.

“I am,” said the woman stiffly. She led the way into the living room, where a life-sized bust of Donna Bruce took center stage. Oddly enough, even the furniture reminded Odelia of Donna, as the exact same furniture had graced her own house.

Maureen Cranberry wasn’t merely Donna’s double, she’d also copied Donna’s interior design, down to the intricate wood floor medallions, depicting the yin and yang symbols, the heavy velvet curtains, and the pink marble walls. Eerie.

Chase, too, seemed taken aback by this extreme case of hero worship, as he was lost for words for a moment. Odelia decided to step into the breach.“Is it true that you sued Donna Bruce a couple of years ago, Mrs. Cranberry?”

Maureen, who’d taken a seat on one of three high back chairs placed in the salon area of the living room, gestured at the other chairs and nodded. “Yes, that’s quite true.”

Odelia and Chase sat down, the cop taking out his notebook and Odelia asking,“And is it also true that you lost the case?”

“Yes, unfortunately I did.”

“But the incident doesn’t seem to have turned you off Donna?”

For the first time, the woman displayed a thin-lipped smile.“No, it didn’t.”

“So why is that?” asked Chase.

Maureen heaved a little sigh.“Once you’re a fan, it’s hard to shake that faith. Though I must confess I came close when I had my little… incident.”

“With the steamer.”

“With the steamer,” the woman confirmed.

“But you were seen protesting outside Donna’s house this morning,” said Chase. “That’s not the kind of behavior one would expect from a die-hard fan such as yourself.”

“I—I must confess I only joined the protest to take a closer look at Donna’s house and—and perhaps even catch a glimpse of Donna herself.”

Something occurred to Odelia.“How long have you lived here, Mrs. Cranberry?”

The woman smiled.“I moved in about six months after Donna moved in. Yes, I’m a stalker, Miss Poole, though not the dangerous kind, I can assure you.”

“And yet you sued Donna when the contraption you bought from her website malfunctioned, you joined the neighborhood protest against the wall she was building, and…” Chase leaned forward in his chair, tapping his notebook smartly. “… perhaps exacted your own kind of revenge when the lawsuit you filed against your idol was thrown out?”

Maureen shook her head decidedly.“I would never do that. I would never harm Donna. Ask anyone. I was her biggest fan and it pained me to have to file charges against her. I tried to get donna.vip to reimburse me and compensate me for the damage their steamer caused but they simply refused. Filing that suit was the only recourse I had to get my money back.”

“And you insist losing the lawsuit didn’t inspire you to take revenge in some other way?”

“It did not. Like I said, I would never do anything to hurt Donna. She was my role model, and not just mine. A lot of women looked up to her for advice and leadership. She was an amazing person. One of a kind.” She sighed deeply. “She will be sorely missed.”

Chase sat back.“Where were you this morning at seven, Mrs. Cranberry?”

“I was over at Alpin’s house. Alpin Carr?? He’s the leader of the neighborhood association and was organizing the protest. We were preparing for the demonstration outside Donna’s house. We met at six as we still had a lot of ground to cover. Banners to prepare and signs to put together. Some of the other women brought cake and Alpin provided coffee and tea. We made a fun time of it. We finally set out to march on Donna’s house at nine.” She shook her head. “If only I’d known Donna had passed away, I would never have come.”

There was a sound from the next room, and Maureen sat up with a start.

“Is anyone else here?” asked Chase, his hand moving to his holster.

“No. I live all by myself,” said Maureen, a trembling hand moving to her lips.

Chase got up and moved over without making a sound, treading carefully. He’d taken out his gun and was aiming it in the direction of the noise. For a moment Odelia wondered if Donna’s killer was now coming after Donna lookalikes as well. She followed at a safe distance, Maureen right behind her, her hand on Odelia’s shoulder, as they slowly made their way to the next room.

“What’s in there?” Odelia whispered.

“The kitchen,” Maureen whispered back. Then she added, “I must have left the door open!”

That bit of information, coupled with the grunt of astonishment from Chase, told Odelia who the intruder was even before she’d reached the door and entered the kitchen.

Three cats sat looking up at them from the kitchen floor, with one cat seated on the kitchen counter, snacking on a very delicious-looking meatloaf: Max. When he finally noticed they were no longer alone, Max looked up, his face covered in crumbs of meatloaf.“Oops,” he said.

Chapter 20

For the rest of the day, I was confined to the house. House arrest, Odelia called it. Bummer. Luckily, Dooley had opted to stay behind and share my punishment. Harriet and Brutus, not surprisingly, had not. They were out and about somewhere, continuing their investigation. Harriet, after having supplied Odelia with the identity of the vajayjay woman, had become cocky, and now truly believed she was the second coming of Sherlock Holmes or something, and no longer needed my or Dooley’s assistance in solving this particularly heinous crime.

Good for her. If she didn’t need me, I certainly didn’t need her. But if she thought she could catch Donna’s killer, she was dead wrong. What she hadn’t grasped was that Maureen Cranberry was innocent, which meant she’d led Odelia and Chase on a wild goose chase.

At least I’d had some prime meatloaf. Whatever Maureen Cranberry’s faults, she prepared one mean meatloaf. The meat had been tender, succulent and tasty. Just the way I like it.

I opened one eye when Dooley’s insufferable snuffling told me he was somewhere nearby. He looked up at me expectantly. The moment Odelia had delivered the verdict, I’d plunked myself down in my usual spot on the couch and hadn’t moved from it. I swear, this diet was slowly killing me, not only robbing me of my physical strength but also of my will to live.

“What do you want, Dooley?” I grumbled, closing my one eye again.

“Aren’t we going to continue our investigation?” he asked excitedly.

“What investigation? If you hadn’t noticed, we’re grounded. We’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“But we have the computer! We can find clues, just like Harriet found that clue about the woman with her burnt business.”

I groaned.“If you hadn’t noticed, Dooley, that was a rubbish clue. Nothing came of it.”

“That’s because it was Harriet finding that clue,” he said cleverly. “But we’re not Harriet, Max. We’re the real sleuths in this household. If we put our minds to it, I’m sure we’ll find out more than Harriet ever could.”

I opened my eyes. Had Dooley just delivered an intelligent statement? I believed he had. And it was so unlike Dooley to make sense that I actually sat up and took notice.“What did you just say?”

“That we’re better sleuths than Harriet and Brutus?”

I nodded.“You have a point, Dooley. Weare better sleuths. In fact we’re ace sleuths.”

Reluctantly, I abandoned my spot and jumped down from the couch. Dooley had already taken up position in front of the computer and I joined him. We both stared at the screen, which was black.

“So… how does this work, exactly?” I asked. I have to confess I’m not much of a computer cat. I love lying down on the keyboard when Odelia is working, and making sure she can’t see the screen, but that’s as far as my knowledge of computers goes, to be perfectly honest.

“Just do something, Max,” Dooley suggested. “If Harriet can do it, so can we.”

He was right, and his statement totally galvanized me. So did the fact that my tummy was full of that delicious meatloaf. Odelia might not like it when I eat my fill, but I certainly did. I took a stab at the keyboard and to my surprise the screen flickered to life.

“Hey! How did you do that?” asked Dooley.

“No idea. I just did this…” I stabbed at the keyboard again and some letters appeared on the screen.

“Oh, my God, Max. You can type!”

“Yes, I can!” I said enthusiastically, and stabbed at the keyboard some more. More letters appeared, forming one long word that didn’t make any sense. But it was something. We were going places! I decided to use the backspace key to remove all those funny symbols and start over. So I carefully typed in donna.vip and we landed on Donna’s website. There were a lot of funny things for sale there, so for the next half hour or so, Dooley and I had fun clicking through to the pages of all these items and reading the descriptions. There were those jade eggs Gran had ordered, and for the first time we understood they weren’t actual eggs but served an entirely different purpose. Something to do with pelvic muscles, whatever that was. And then there was Maureen Cranberry’s V-steamer, which appeared to be beneficial for personal hygiene and improved fertility.

“What’s fertility, Max?” asked Dooley.

“I think it’s a kind of plant.”

“Oh, right. Like a fern.”

“They must have misspelled ferntility.”

“Humans.”

“Yeah.”

There was a lot more stuff, and it was all weird and wonderful, sort of like the Discovery Channel. There was a prisoner’s ball and chain, a toothpaste squeezer, nipple clamps, very expensive paper wipes, a pouch with magically charged stones, gold dumbbells for weightlifting, a facial massager, a heated couch, and… the same kind of rocket that Odelia keeps in her bedside drawer but this one was made of gold. Itwas called a dildo and its purpose wasn’t immediately clear to me.

“What does it do, Max?” Dooley asked, staring at the shiny gold object.

“I’m not sure. It says here it’s a massager, but I’m not sure what it’s supposed to massage.”

“It also says it’s elegant and decadent, and has to be used with something called lube. What is a lube, Max?”

“Maybe like a long kind of tube?”

We read some more. It was all very confusing.

“What’s a G-spot, Max?”

“I have no idea, Dooley.” But then I got it. “I think it’s one of those spots that are very hard to reach. Like behind the bed or behind the cupboard.”

We shared a look of understanding.“So that’s why Odelia keeps it in the bedroom.”

“In case she needs to reach those hard-to-reach G-spots.”

Well, I was sure glad we figured that out. It’s not much fun feeling dumb.

I clicked on another link and this time we ended up on a page extolling the virtues of bee sting therapy.“Weird,” Dooley said. “Here they say bee stings are actually good for you.”

“Well, maybe they are,” I said. “Like nettle stings. Remember that one time you stung your nose on those nettles? And Odelia said it was good for you? This is probably the same thing.”

“But then why did Donna end up dead?”

“Well, too much of a good thing isn’t good at all, I suppose.”

“Like when you eat too many Cat Snax?”

“I’m not sure you can eat too many Cat Snax, Dooley. At least I’ve never had too many.”

“That’s true,” he admitted. “Me neither.”

Just then, there was a loud rap on the glass sliding door, which was now closed due to my house arrest. We hopped down from our perch on the computer table and wandered over. To my pleasant surprise, it was Gran. But to my less pleasant surprise, she appeared incapable of opening the sliding door from the outside. She was shouting something, though. It sounded a lot like,“Has the UPS guy brought another one of my packages?!”

I shook my head and shouted back,“No, he hasn’t!”

“Darn!” she yelled, and then stalked off.

“Hey! Aren’t you going to let us out?!” I yelled, but she was already gone.

Dooley sat chuckling next to me. I turned to him.“What’s so funny?”

“I wonder what she ordered this time. Those dumbbells, that toothpaste squeezer, or that dildo.”

“I don’t think she would order a dildo.”

“And why is that?”

“Marge cleans your house, doesn’t she? So why would Gran need to reach those hard-to-reach G-spots?”

“You’ve got a point, Max.”

“Of course I have. I’m very clever.”

Chapter 21

It was dinner time at the Pooles, and as usual Uncle Alec and Chase had been invited. Dad was master of his domain again—in other words, the barbecue set—and before long a wonderful time was had by all. Well, almost all, as Odelia had locked Max up in the house. She couldn’t risk him hanging around all that raw meat. He would have a conniption fit if she tried to keep him away from all that juicy temptation. And to show him she didn’t have a heart of stone, she’d given him an extra helping of Vena’s diet kibble. Not that he seemed to appreciate it. He’d told her there was only so much cardboard one could stomach, and he’d already had his fill and then some.

It was a hard lesson to learn for the big, red cat, but one that was absolutely necessary. If he kept eating like this, he’d simply dig his own grave with his teeth, the poor baby, and she did not want that on her conscience.

Harriet and Brutus had shown up just when the meat was starting to give off its delicious scent, but when she cut a glance to Harriet, the gorgeous Persian had sadly shaken her head. So far she hadn’t discovered a thing. Brutus, who’d immediately pounced on some slivers Dad had cut from the steaks, didn’t seem to have any news for her either. That only left Dooley, but all he said was that he’d finally discovered how she cleaned those hard-to-reach spots in her bedroom, and given her a big, fat wink. Weird. Then she remembered she’d left the computer running. Oh, dear. She hoped she’d turned on Parental Control. There was so much on the Internet her cats did not need to see.

Uncle Alec walked up to her, a can of Heineken in his hand.“And? Any luck with the Cranberry woman?”

“Nope. Turns out she had an alibi, just like everyone else in this case.”

“Dang. She looked promising.”

“She did,” Odelia agreed. “Very promising. Just like the ex-husband looked promising, the boyfriend looked promising, and the leader of the home owner’s association looked promising.”

“Tough day, huh?” asked her uncle, shooting her a keen look.

“Yeah, pretty tough,” she admitted. “We keep catching breaks that turn out not to be breaks after all.”

“What about your cats?” he asked. “They usually provide the telling clue.”

“So far my cats have provided me nothing but trouble,” she admitted, and told her uncle about Max’s embarrassing behavior at Maureen Cranberry’s place.

“So that’s why my meatball went missing from my meatball sub,” said her uncle with a grin.

“It seems he’s eating everything he can get his paws on. Ever since I put him on a diet he’s been totally insufferable. It has taken his focus completely off trying to find Donna’s killer. All he’s interested in is finding food, not clues.”

“That’ll pass,” her uncle assured her. “He just needs some adjusting is all. When your aunt put me on a diet the hardest part were those first few days. Once I got past that it was smooth sailing all the way.”

She glanced down at her uncle’s rotund belly. Pity Aunt Ginny was gone. Alec could have used one of her patent diets right now. But who was going to put him on one? Certainly not her. She had a hard enough time trying to keep Max to his diet, and he was just a cat.

Chase came ambling up, also a can of Heineken in hand.“So? Another long day at the office, huh? Time for some R&R.”

“Speak for yourself,” grunted Chief Alec. “When dinner is over I’m heading straight back to the station. I’ve got a ton of paperwork to finish. What about you, Odelia?”

“I have an article to write,” she confessed. She’d started writing it when they came back from Maureen Cranberry, but she still had to put the finishing touches on the piece. “The paper is going to print tomorrow and Dan wants the article done.”

“On the Donna Bruce case?” asked Chase.

“Yep. I don’t really know what to write, as we’re nowhere near figuring out what happened, but deadlines are deadlines.”

“And what are you up to, Chase?” asked the Chief.

“Well, I was actually thinking about asking out your niece, but I have a feeling she’s about to blow me off.”

Odelia looked up in surprise.“You wanted to take me out tonight?”

“I promised I was going to, remember? And you told me you were going to think about it.”

“I know, but I figured, with this whole Donna Bruce thing…”

He smiled.“There will always be work, Odelia. You can’t let it interfere with your personal life.”

“He’s right,” Uncle Alec grunted. “You never know how much time you’re going to have with your loved ones. If I’d known that back when Ginny was still alive, I’d have spent a lot more time with her. Now it’s too late.” He looked somber for a moment, the memory obviously still haunting him.

Odelia placed a hand on her uncle’s arm. “You had a lot of good years together, Uncle Alec. You should be grateful you got to spend them with Aunt Ginny as long as you did.”

He gave her a weak smile.“You’re right, honey. And I am. Grateful, I mean. I’m just telling you not to make the same mistake I did. Putting work before everything else. This case will get solved, or it won’t. You can’t let that stop you from spending time with this hotshot detective over here. At least if that’s what you want.”

Now it was her turn to smile.“What are you saying? I should give this hotshot detective a shot?”

“He’s not a bad guy,” said Chief Alec. “He’s young and impetuous, of course, but then all guys are at his age. But with some patience and effort I think we might make something out of him yet.”

Chase gave the chief a playful shove.“Thanks, old-timer. I appreciate the vote of confidence. So what about it, Odelia? Wanna catch a movie with this hotshot detective?”

And she was just about to respond in the affirmative, when a wide-eyed young man dressed in a brown uniform showed up in the backyard, carrying a huge box. Judging from the logo on his uniform he was the UPS guy, and when he was done scanning the small group gathered around the barbecue set, he gulped and asked,“Who is Vesta Muffin? I’m looking for a Vesta Muffin.”

Gran seemed reluctant to reveal herself, so finally Mom had to step up and tell the guy,“That’s my mother. Why didn’t you ring at the front door?”

“I did. More than once. Can I leave this with you, ma’am? It’s… buzzing.”

He placed the bulky package on the lawn and quickly took a few steps back.

“Buzzing?” asked Mom, eyeing the package with suspicion. Then she turned to Gran. “Mom. What did you order this time?”

“Nothing,” said Gran. “Must be some mistake.”

“No mistake,” said the UPS guy. “You ordered from donna.vip. Paid extra for special delivery. Though nobody told me the package would be alive.”

His eyes were wide as he offered Mom the gadget to sign. Mom jotted down her scrawl and the UPS guy immediately was off like a rocket.“Thanks!” he yelled and disappeared from view.

They all gathered around the package, and Odelia discovered that the UPS guy had been right: the thing was buzzing.

“What did you order, Gran?” she asked.

“Nothing!” Gran insisted. “You told me to stop ordering stuff so I did.”

Dad bent down, a glass of red wine in his hand, and read from the label on the package.“It says your name right here, Vesta.”

“Must be a namesake. Lots of Vestas around.”

“Vesta Muffin? Living at this address?”

“Sure. UPS screwed up again. Figures.”

She seemed awfully nervous about a simple mistake, though, which told Odelia it wasn’t a mistake at all. The only reason she was mad at the UPS guy was that he’d shown up now, when everyone was there, and not a couple of hours earlier, when she could have intercepted the package.

“Well, I guess we better see what’s inside,” said Uncle Alec, and started removing the packaging. And that’s when something came buzzing from inside the box and attached itself to his nose. He swatted it away, and Odelia got a good look at the culprit. It was a bee!

“Gran,” she demanded. “Tell me you didn’t order a bunch of bees!”

“Of course not!” Gran said. “I’m not crazy. Who orders a bunch of bees?! Not me!”

They all worked together to remove the wrapping, and found themselves staring down at an actual beehive! And its inhabitants were obviously not very happy at having been cooped up for so long, for more than a few of them started flying through the cracks in the cage and zooming around.

“Christ!” Uncle Alec yelled. “Who in their right mind ships a bunch of bees with UPS?!”

“Vesta,” said Dad phlegmatically, swatting away a couple of bees buzzing around his wine.

“I think we better call the fire department,” Chase said. “Before they all escape and attack us.”

“No!” Gran yelled. “You know how much these little suckers cost me?!”

“So you did order them!” Mom yelled, ducking a few particularly pesky bees.

“Of course I did! I need bee therapy! It’s going to completely rejuvenate me! I’m going to look decades younger!”

“You’re crazy!” Uncle Alec screamed, now running around the yard, chased by a horde of bees.

“Let them sting your butt!” Gran yelled. “It’ll clear that cellulite of yours right up!”

And then, as if the bees had gotten the message, the cage completely collapsed, and the entire swarm zoomed up into the air, then swept down upon the Pooles.

“Nice, Mom!” Uncle Alec yelled. “I’ve been stung!”

“That’s great! You needed it!”

Odelia wasn’t sure if she needed it or not, but she was pretty sure she didn’t want it, so when a dozen bees attacked her, happy to have found a target, she screamed and ducked for cover. It took another half hour for the fire department to arrive, and make short shrift of Gran’s bee menace. Gran wasn’t happy that her investment was being rounded up and taken away by the burly men in red, but the rest of the family definitely was. By the time the last bee had been taken into custody, it was late.

“So much for our date,” Odelia told Chase as she watched the firemen inspect the hive.

“I’ll take a rain check,” said Chase, scratching at a particularly nasty-looking bee sting.

“I’m sorry about this, Chase. My family is crazy.”

“That’s okay,” he said with a grin. “I’m not all that compos myself.”

He placed an arm around her shoulder and she leaned her head against his chest. Between the murder they had to solve and Max’s diet shenanigans and her grandmother’s Donna obsession, she was glad at least one person in her universe still had his feet on solid ground. And as she watched a red-faced Dad furiously cut up his credit cards, Gran looking on sadly, she had to laugh.

“That’s the spirit,” Chase murmured. “When you can’t beat the crazies, join them.” And he placed a tender kiss on her lips.

“Ouch,” she said, pulling back. “Bee sting.” Right on her bottom lip of all places. Gah.

“Didn’t you hear your grandmother? Your lip will look decades younger in the morning.”

“Oh, to hell with it,” she muttered, and kissed him right back.

Chapter 22

That night, I simply couldn’t hold it anymore. If I ate one more chunk of that diet crap I was going to scream. My stomach was grumbling and I was so hungry I thought I was going to die. The worst thing was that Odelia had put me on the scale that evening after she came home from dinner and I’d actually gained weight! How was that even possible?!

Of course she had her explanation ready. According to her it was because of that meatball I’d scarfed down, and that meatloaf I’d polished off at Mrs. Cranberry’s house. But I called bullshit on both accounts. How could a little bit of meat result in me gaining weight while I’d been starving all the rest of the day?

I roamed around the house, feeling restless and annoyed, and that’s when I discovered that Odelia had left the kitchen window open! So I climbed up onto the sink, careful not to put my paw in the garbage disposal unit, pushed the window open wider, and gracefully hopped down onto the sill and then to the plastic container right underneath it. Odelia uses it tocollect the garbage bags and it’s the perfect landing place for a big-boned cat like me. I know people are always saying how a cat always lands on its feet. Well, if you’re genetically predisposed to be on the more voluminous side, like me, it can be hard to accomplish that feat, especially when jumping down from higher surfaces.

I landed on the container with a heavy thump, and waited for a moment, making sure I hadn’t woken up Odelia. Then I jumped down to the patio and padded off, hoping Dooley still had some tasty morsels he wouldn’t mind sharing with his best friend.

Unfortunately, when I finally had slipped into the house next door, all the bowls were empty: Dooley’s bowl, Harriet’s bowl, and even Brutus’s bowl! How was that even possible?

I quickly made my way up the stairs, careful not to wake up anyone, and nudged open the door to Marge and Doctor Tex’s room. Sure enough, Brutus was asleep on Tex’s side of the bed and Harriet on Marge’s side. So I tiptoed into Gran’s bedroom, which was right down the hall, and found Dooley asleep at the foot of Gran’s bed.

“Psssst!” I said, giving Dooley a slight nudge.

“Hrrrmmbl…” he said in response, and just kept on sleeping.

“Dooley! Wake up!”

The beige cat opened one eye and then closed it again.“Hmmmmmm.”

So I hopped up onto the bed—conveniently a lot lower than Odelia’s—and kicked him off. I watched in wonder to see if he would magically right himself in midair and hit the floor on all fours. Unfortunately for Dooley he hit the floor with his head instead. It made a nice thunking sound as it did. Hollow. Just as I’d expected.

“What’s going on?” Dooley asked as he rubbed the point of impact.

“I’m going foraging,” I told him. “And I need my wingcat.”

He stared at me.“I can’t, Max. My head hurts for some reason.”

“Your head is fine. Let’s go.”

He rubbed the spot for a few beats more, obviously wondering what had happened, then decided to follow me out.“I was dreaming of Harriet,” he said. “She told me to use my dildo to reach her G-spot so I did, but then Brutus showed up and burned me with his V-steamer.”

“You shouldn’t read that kind of stuff before bed, Dooley. You should do like me and dream of steaks and prime ribs and sausages and meatballs and beef tenderloin and…” Well, you get the picture.

We left the house and set out for the great outdoors. I had no idea where we were going but I knew it had to be someplace where we would find food. Lots of food. Any food.

“Where are we going, Max?” asked Dooley after a while.

“Where they have food,” I told him.

“And where is that?”

I thought hard, which was difficult as I was so hungry my mental capacity had become impaired. Honestly, how Odelia expected me to catch killers on an empty stomach was beyond me. And then I got it.“Why don’t we go check out Donna Bruce’s place?”

“Do you think they’ll have food there?”

“Well, they have those two mutts. And where there are mutts, there is always food.”

That’s one of those immutable facts of life, and one you would do well to remember. I know I do. Even at my most feeble, like now, when my survival instincts were kicking in, I still remembered that humans love dogs—even more than they love cats—and always make sure they’re well fed. What most humans don’t know is that cats can also eat dog food, especially when they’re on the verge of dying of starvation, like I was now.

“I don’t know, Max,” said Dooley. “Those dogs weren’t very nice to us the last time.”

“They’ll be fast asleep by now,” I promised him. “We’ll just sneak in and out. They won’t even know we were there.”

Dooley sighed.“Good thing you’re my best friend, Max. I would never do this for Brutus.”

“Do what?”

“Risk life and limb to get you some dog biscuits.”

I gave him a warm smile.“I know, Dooley. And I’m glad you’re my friend.”

“I would do it for Harriet,” he continued musingly. “But only if she asked me. Once upon a time I would have done it without asking, but those days are definitely over.”

“Wow. Love doesn’t live there anymore, huh?”

“Where?” he asked, puzzled.

“It’s an expression. It means you’ve stopped loving Harriet.”

“I never loved Harriet,” he said annoyedly. “I liked Harriet a lot. There’s a difference.”

“Of course there is.”

We were trotting along the main road, cars passing us by, making great time, and I was actually starting to perk up a little. The prospect of digging into Rex and Rollo’s bowls and fishing out the best bits almost made me feel giddy. A woman like Donna, rich beyond compare, probably spent a fortune on dog food, reserving only the best and most expensive stuff for her beloved mutts. I just hoped they hadn’t eaten all of it.

“Do you think Harriet will ever break up with Brutus?” asked Dooley.

“Why? I thought you only ‘liked’ her?”

“I do. That’s why I feel it’s my duty to look out for her. And I don’t think Brutus is right for her, Max. I really don’t.”

“I think he is. Those two deserve each other,” I said. And if I sounded bitter that’s because I was. Harriet was trying to steal my thunder. Presenting herself as the prime sleuth in the Poole household. Well, I wasn’t having it. There was only one prime sleuth and that was me. At least when I was properly fed and my brain was working at full capacity.

“Brutus has changed,” Dooley admitted, still harping on the same theme. “He’s become more sedate. Less of a bully.”

“I told you. He’s henpecked now. Domesticated. He won’t give us any more trouble.”

“Do you really believe that, Max?”

“Yes, I do.” No, I didn’t. Bullies like Brutus never really change. Though we had reached some kind of understanding lately. A d?tente, like the US and the USSR had in Cold War days.

“Tell me something, Max.”

I grunted, hoping he’d finally change the subject. All this talk of Harriet and Brutus was getting on my nerves. “What?”

“When Harriet kissed you, what did it feel like?”

“Wet.”

“Did you feel butterflies fluttering around in your tummy? A choir of angels singing in the sky? The scent of blossoms filling your nostrils? A feeling that all was well with the world?”

“I felt an urge to slap her, if that’s what you mean.”

He gave me a dark scowl. Obviously that wasn’t the answer he’d been looking for.

Lucky for me we’d finally reached the Donna Bruce place. All was dark, which was a good sign. I just hoped Rex and Rollo would prove as dumb as they looked and wouldn’t chase two innocent cats trying to steal their food after hours. We approached with stealth and bated breath, and walked around the back, justlike that morning. The pool area was deserted, and there was no sign of the two hyped-up poodles.

“Looks promising,” I whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” Dooley whispered back.

Some questions are just too dumb to dignify with a response so I didn’t respond. Instead, I padded up to the back door but found it locked. Obviously. And thus the tedious task of finding an access point began. I finally found a ground floor window that was ajar and attempted to get in that way. Unfortunately, because of my big bones, I didn’t fit. So I told Dooley to give it a try. It was a tight fit but he managed. Once he was inside, he whispered, “What do I do now?”

“Now you go in search of food and bring it to me,” I instructed my feeble-minded friend.

He gave me two claws up and disappeared from sight. I waited patiently for his return, all the while trying to ignore my rumbling stomach. I’d never known hunger before, and now I understood what all the hungry animals in the world must experience on a daily basis. It wasn’t a lot of fun.

And I’d just wandered off in the direction of the pool, when I caught movement inside the house. I walked up to the glass doors and peeked inside. One of the many advantages us felines have over humans is that we can see in the dark. And what I saw in the dark was… Donna Bruce!

I staggered back in shock and horror. What the… After gathering my courage, I approached the window once more. And sure enough, Donna Bruce was walking around inside, dressed in a white nightgown, carrying some kind of smoking contraption in her hands and flitting to and fro as she waved the smoky thing along the walls, moved it past the furniture, and generally seemed to be performing some kind of strange ritual.

I’d never seen a dead person walking around before, so I had my face glued to the glass all the while. Now that I was over my first reaction of fear, the phenomenon was kinda fascinating. So this was what a ghost looked like, huh? Cool!

Then she disappeared from sight and the show was over.

Lost in thought, I moved back to where I’d left a Dooley eager to find food for me. What I found was a Dooley scared stiff.

“I saw a ghost!” he cried.

“Me too. Where’s my food?”

“I saw the ghost of Donna Bruce!”

“I know. So where’s my food?”

“She’s dead and she’s still walking around!”

“My food, Dooley!”

He stared at me, not comprehending. Then he got it.“Oh, there is no food. I think they moved the dogs. There’s no sign of Rex and Rollo. But I saw the ghost of Donna Bruce!”

Crap. I didn’t know much about ghosts, but what I did know was that they didn’t eat. So we’d come all this way for nothing? Crappity crap! But then it dawned on me. If I told Odelia we’d seen the ghost of Donna Bruce she might be so happy she gave me some Cat Snax!

And as Dooley and I began the long trek back to home and hearth, that thought was the only thing that kept me going. That and the notion that we’d finally bested Harriet at the sleuthing thing. Cause if that really was Donna’s ghost, she’d be able to tell us who killed her, wouldn’t she? Of course she would. Case closed! Cat Snax here I come!

Chapter 23

Odelia woke up from the scuffle of paws and the clicking of claws against the side of the bed. There were hushed voices and she knew what was going on. Max was trying to jump up on the bed, proving he wasn’t too fat, and Dooley was giving him a boost but failing to apply sufficient thrust to propel the overweight cat up and away.

She rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. It was still dark out and she so did not want to get up. After the bee incident there had been a lot of shouting and recriminations being hurled about, and it had taken forever to calm down all parties and clear the house and garden of the last straggling bees. Now all she wanted to do was sleep.

“Pssst! Odelia!”

“Just lemme sleeeeep,” she murmured.

“Push harder, Dooley!”

“I’m pushing as hard as I can, Max!”

“Odelia! We’ve got news for you!”

“Tell me in the morning.”

“This can’t wait! We saw a ghost!”

“Max, I’m getting squished here.”

“That’s not possible. You’re just not pushing hard enough.”

“You’re too heavy!”

“No, I’m not. You’re just being lazy is all.”

There was the sound of a heavy object dropping to the floor and Dooley squealing in pain. Odelia sat up with a jerk.“Will you two cut it out already? I’m trying to get some sleep here.”

“Max sat on me!”

“I did not! You dropped me!”

With a loud groan of exasperation she switched on the light and peered over the edge of the bed. Max was sitting on top of Dooley’s face and Dooley did not seem happy about it.

“Max. Get off Dooley. Dooley, you should know better than to try and lift Max.”

“I know,” Dooley said once Max had shifted his butt. “But he insists it’s what friends do.”

“If you were really my friend you’d simply do as I tell you and give me a boost,” Max grumbled.

“What’s all this about a ghost?” Odelia muttered, supporting her head on her hand, her eyes drooping closed again.

“We saw the ghost of Donna Bruce. She was haunting her own house. Can I get a snack now?” asked Max.

Odelia’s eyes flashed open. “What were you two doing at Donna’s house?”

“We were… investigating,” Max said.

“And also looking for food,” Dooley added, earning him a scowl from Max.

“And then you saw Donna’s ghost,” Odelia said skeptically.

“Yes, we did,” Dooley said. “I saw her first, as I was inside the house looking for Rex and Rollo’s bowls. Max was waiting outside cause he couldn’t fit through the window.”

“Too much information, Dooley,” Max hissed.

“No, that’s fine,” said Odelia. She knew Dooley would never lie to her, which meant they really had seen something. She very much doubted it would be a ghost, since ghosts didn’t exist, but there must have been someone lurking about. “What did she look like, this ghost?”

“She looked exactly like Donna,” said Dooley.

“Spitting image,” Max agreed.

“And what does Donna look like?”

Dooley thought for a moment.“Well, she’s a woman, for one thing.”

“Long hair. Long white dress,” Max added.

“She was sort of floating around. Barefoot.”

“And she was carrying some kind of smoky thing, doing some kind of ritual.”

“Oh, that’s right,” said Dooley enthusiastically. “There was an awful lot of smoke.”

Odelia frowned. What little she knew about ghosts was that they wore whatever they died in, and since Donna had died in the nude, with only a towel to protect her modesty, this ghostly apparition most probably was not Donna. Still, it was obvious Max and Dooley had seen someone poking around Donna’s house in the middle of the night, so…

She picked up her phone from the nightstand and dialed Chase’s number. After a few rings a groggy voice muttered, “’lo?”

“Hey, Chase. Odelia. We have to check out Donna’s place. Someone’s prowling around.”

There was a momentary silence, then,“You’re at Donna’s house?”

“No, I’m in bed right now.”

“So… how do you know there’s a prowler on the loose?”

“Women’s—”

“Intuition. I get the drill. Meet me at the house. I’ll be there in five.”

She bit her lip. She should probably have thought this through a little more. Now Chase would think she was psychic. Unless there was no one out there, in which case he’d think she was nuts.

“Can we come?” asked Max.

“No, you can’t,” she said. “You’re still grounded, mister.”

“But we found the ghost!”

“You shouldn’t have been out there!”

“But… we’re just trying to help. Find the killer and all that.”

She shot him a look of censure. He was right, of course. They had found a valuable clue.“All right. You can come. But on one condition.”

“Anything!”

“From now on you’re going to stick to your diet. No more sneaking off in search of food. Is that understood?”

Max wavered. This was obviously a hard decision to make. Finally his curiosity to find out more about this ghost won out and he nodded.“Oh, all right. I’ll stick to my diet from now on.”

“Good.” She got dressed in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, slipped her feet into a pair of sneakers and snatched her smartphone from the nightstand.

“Don’t forget to take your dildo,” said Dooley helpfully.

Her hand paused.“What did you just say?”

“Your dildo,” Dooley said. “To reach those hard-to-reach G-spots. Who knows where this ghost is hiding, right?”

She frowned down at Dooley and Max, both looking up at her with expressions of such innocence and guilelessness she couldn’t help but smile. “Of course I’ll take my dildo. I never leave home without it.” She snapped the plastic object from the drawer and put it in her pocket. And as she walked down the stairs she swore never to let those cats near the Internet again. Ever.

Chapter 24

She arrived at the house just as Chase rolled up in his pickup truck and parked right behind hers. He got out, his hair tousled and dressed in sturdy jeans, check flannel shirt and cowboy boots.“So what’s this about a prowler? And don’t give me that women’s intuition line again.”

“I got a call just now from one of Donna’s neighbors walking his dog. He said he saw someone move around inside the house.”

“Who called?”

“I’m sorry but I can’t tell you. A reporter has to protect her sources.”

He gave her an intense look.“Haven’t we moved beyond that crap, Odelia?”

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug and turned toward the house.“What can I say? My sources trust me to protect their confidentiality and anonymity and I owe it to them to respect that.”

“Of course you do,” he grumbled as he fell into step beside her. He looked down when he saw movement and started. “You brought your cats along?”

“Always.”

He shook his head.“You are one special cookie, Odelia.”

She hooked her arm through his.“But you like special cookies, right?”

He eyed her warmly.“You know I do. Now let’s catch ourselves a prowler, shall we?”

They arrived at the house and Odelia watched her cats sneak around the back. A sliver of fear suddenly settled around her heart.“So how do you want to do this?”

“Very carefully,” Chase said, and peered into one of the windows on the ground floor. “I don’t see a thing.”

“Maybe they’re upstairs.” Or maybe they left already. Or maybe her cats were delusional.

Chase moved to the front door and studied the lock for a moment. Then he took a small pouch from his pocket and extracted a metal tool that she seemed to recognize from her frequent visits to the dentist. Chase inserted it into the lock, then added a second metal tool and messed around with them for a while. The door suddenly clicked open and they were in.

“I didn’t know you burgled houses for a living!” she whispered as they stepped inside.

“Back when I was employed by the NYPD I had a buddy who was a converted crook. He taught me a few tricks of his trade. You never know when this kind of stuff comes in handy. Like now.”

“Can you teach me?”

He grinned.“If you teach me about women’s intuition.”

“I can’t. It’s called women’s intuition for a reason.”

“So it’s like some kind of secret only shared by women, huh?”

“Something like that.”

They both took out their smartphones to light their way, and quickly inspected the ground floor but found it to be completely deserted. Odelia sniffed the air, and thought the house smelled an awful lot of pot, for some reason. She noticed Max gesturing at her through a half-opened window so she opened the window further and let him in.“Remember what I told you,” she said. “No looking for food. Only clues.”

“Clues, yes. Food, no. Gotcha.”

She followed Chase up the stairs, going from room to room. With two bathrooms and six bedrooms, the place was pretty expansive, and they’d finally reached the master bedroom when both their beams of light fell on a lone figure asleep in the bed. They halted in their tracks.

“What the…” Chase muttered. He held up a hand, balling it into a fist in some kind of Special Forces command, and proceeded further into the room, Odelia hanging back. She saw that he’d drawn his gun and was pointing it at the intruder. She just hoped it wasn’t Donna’s ghost because shedidn’t think ghosts responded well to gunfire.

Chase had reached the bed and was staring down at the sleeping figure, a frown creasing his brow.

“Who is it?” she asked from the door.

He beckoned her over, holstering his service weapon. And as she joined him, she saw the figure was a woman, dressed in a long, flowing white robe, barefoot and with long dark hair. And it definitely wasn’t Donna Bruce.

“She looks familiar somehow,” said Chase. “Like I’ve seen her before somewhere.”

And then it dawned on her.“But that’s Zelda Yoke. The actress. She starred in thoseStar Cars movies. Remember? Where a bunch of cars turn out to be these big robot warriors, fighting other big robot warriors in space. She made a bunch of those.”

“I remember. Weren’t she and Donna Bruce locked in some kind of rivalry?”

“They were. Donna starred in the more popularStar Rigs franchise, where a bunch of trucks turn out to be big robot warriors, fighting other big robot warriors in space.”

As the leading ladies of the two nearly identical franchises, the two stars fought a bitter battle for years. Finally, Donna retired from the franchise and acting to focus on her website, and Zelda’s star had faded away when the fifth and final movie in theStar Cars series bombed at the box office.

Chase shook the woman’s shoulder and she stirred, smacking her lips. “Donna? Is that you?” she murmured. When she opened her eyes and saw two strangers staring down at her, she yelped in sudden fear. “Who the hell are you?”

“Hampton Cove Police, ma’am. May I ask what you’re doing in Donna Bruce’s bed?”

The woman blinked.“Why, Donna invited me, of course. I’m her starring guest.”

“You are aware that Mrs. Bruce passed away this morning, ma’am?”

“Of course I’m aware Donna passed away. Why do you think I’m here?”

“You mean she invited you before she died?”

“No, she invited me after she died. Told me to come to her home and get in touch with her spirit.” She sat up, a glazed look in her eyes. “Donna and I have always had a very strong connection. Sisters from another mister is what we were. Kindred spirits. So when she died I felt a very powerful disturbance in the force and I just knew I had to come here.”

“I’m afraid you’re trespassing, ma’am.”

“But Donna wants me here. She needs me here. I’m telling you her spirit reached out to me.”

“Why don’t you get dressed and come with me?”

“Come with you?” She frowned. “Who are you again?”

“Hampton Cove Police. And I’m afraid you’re under arrest for trespassing.”

“But I can’t be. I keep telling you but you won’t listen. Donna invited me. I’m a guest.”

“Were you burning something downstairs, Mrs. Yoke?” asked Odelia, remembering Dooley’s words.

The former actress smiled.“You’re very perceptive. I was burning incense. To ward off the bad spirits and to summon Donna’s spirit.”

“And did it work?” asked Chase.

“Not yet. But I’m sure she’ll be here any moment now.” The woman glanced around, as if fully expecting Donna to suddenly materialize out of thin air. “She invited me here, you know.”

“Of course she did,” said Chase. “Now come along, Mrs. Yoke.”

“Are you familiar with my work, Officer?”

“As a matter of fact I am,” said Chase as he escorted the woman from the room.

“And what was your favorite? I liked the firstStar Cars the most. That one was a huge hit.”

“Yes, it was,” said Chase, and helped the actress down the stairs. It was a little sad to see her like this, Odelia thought. She had been wonderful in thoseStar Cars movies.

“Did you know I do all my own stunts?”

“Is that a fact?”

“Donna never did. Everything you see in thoseStar Rigs movies is all CGI. WithStar Cars what you see is what you get. It’s all real. All me.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, where were you this morning around seven, Mrs. Yoke?”

“This morning around seven?” They’d reached the foyer and Chase opened the front door to escort the woman out. “Why, I was reaching out to Donna, of course. We’re connected on a higher level, you know. Soul sisters.”

“Mind the step.”

And as the woman padded barefoot along the drive in the direction of Chase’s pickup, Odelia and Chase at her elbows making sure she didn’t trip and fall, Odelia thought they’d just closed this case. It was now obvious to her that the intense rivalry that had existed between the two actresses all these years had finally driven Zelda Yoke crazy, inducing her to commit this atrocious act of violence and get rid of her ‘soul sister’ once and for all.

The cats came tripping behind her. They, too, seemed pleased as punch at this unexpected development. Mostly because they’d beaten Harriet at her own game, and possibly because Max had found something to eat after all, judging from the crumbs of dog biscuit covering his lips.

She decided he’d earned it. And as Chase placed Zelda in the back of his car and locked the door, he said, “I think the combination of your intuition and your secretive informant may just have cracked this case, Odelia.”

“I think so, too,” she said, directing a commiserating glance at Zelda, who sat muttering to herself, rocking back and forth. “What a sad ending, though, right?”

“Yeah, I loved thoseStar Cars movies. They were da bomb.”

“Da bomb?” she laughed. “The nineties called, they want their bomb back.”

“Laugh all you want.Star Cars was great fun.”

“I was more intoStar Rigs.”

“Star Rigs was clearly a rip-off ofStar Cars.”

“I’m pretty sureStar Rigs came first.”

“And I’m pretty sure you’re wrong.”

“Don’t tell me you’re a Zelda Yoke fan.”

“Don’t tell me you’re a Donna Bruce fan.”

Odelia held her hand up in theStar Rigs salute, which was a fist with her pinkie finger sticking out.“Star Rigs forever, buddy.”

Chase made theStar Cars salute, a fist with his thumb sticking out sideways.“Star Cars all the way, babe.”

And the age-old rivalry would have caused two more casualties if Zelda hadn’t at that moment rolled down her window and asked, “Can we go now? Donna is waiting for me.”

“Waiting for you where?” asked Chase.

The actress raised her eyes to the sky.“Why, amongst the stars, of course.”

“Of course,” said Chase with a grin at Odelia, and got into the car.

Odelia watched him drive off.“Well, you guys did good.”

“Do you think she did it?” asked Dooley.

“I’m pretty sure she did.”

“Yay!” Max said, pumping the air with his paw. “So can I have some Cat Snax now?”

She smiled.“Yes, you can. But then you’re going back on the diet, all right?”

“Yes!” Max exclaimed, exchanging a high five with Dooley. “We did it, Dooley!”

“Case closed?”

“Case closed,” Odelia agreed.

Chapter 25

I was lounging on the windowsill, the sun streaming in through the window, having a well-deserved nap. I’d solved the case. I’d enjoyed my Cat Snax. Now all I had to do was rub Harriet’s face in my victory and my triumph was complete.

Dooley was lying next to me, also in deep slumber, while Odelia had left to interview Zelda Yoke, the actress who’d murdered her long-time rival. According to Odelia it was a sad case, though I didn’t see it that way. Rivalry amongst actors has always existed. Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. Olivia de Havilland and Joan Fontaine. Tom and Jerry. The list goes on and on. Only this time a line had been crossed and one rival had actually murdered another rival. I guess it’s just one of those things. I think they call it an occupational hazard. I’m sure you can even take out insurance against it.

“Max, you devil,” suddenly a voice rang out nearby.

I opened one eye and saw that Harriet had drifted into the room.

“Hey, Harriet. How’s things?”

“Things are lousy. You just solved my case without me! You actually went around my back and solved my case!”

“Hey, I just had one of my famous hunches. You can’t blame me for being brilliant.”

She seemed really fired up, for she was pacing the room, her face all scrunched up in an expression of extreme upset.“This was my case, Max. My case. I was going to solve it.”

“By surfing the web. Riiiight,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“It’s the new way! The modern way.”

“Solving a murder case without leaving the house? That’s just ridiculous!”

“No, it’s not. Hercule Poirot solved murder cases just by letting his little gray cells do all the work. And he didn’t even have a computer!”

“He had that gumshoe, that Hastings guy to do all the legwork for him,” I reminded her. Which actually wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe next case I could get Dooley to do all the walking around—which is kinda exhausting, you have to admit, not to mention tedious—and then I’d simply put twoand two together and come up with a brilliant solution. Just like that pint-sized Belgian detective!

Brutus had also joined us and was sticking his nose in the air and sniffing.“Cat Snax?” he asked.

“Yup. My reward for cracking another case.”

He grimaced.“Good for you, Max. Though I wouldn’t advertise the fact too much. Harriet’s been sore as a gumboil ever since she found out.”

Harriet, who’d disappeared into the kitchen, now returned, and Brutus was right. She was sore as a gumboil. Maybe even sorer. Like two gumboils. “I can’t believe Odelia let you skip your diet!” she cried. “Cat Snax? Really? You should be ashamed of yourself!”

I wasn’t following. “Ashamed of myself for cracking this case?”

“No, for manipulating Odelia into letting you cheat on your diet.”

“It’s my reward. I did the work and now I deserve a reward.”

“Don’t you see that you’re endangering yourself with this morbid obesity you’re pushing for, Max?”

“Hey, who are you calling morbidly obese?”

“You, Max. You are morbidly obese.”

“And you are jealous I cracked the case and you didn’t.”

“You only think about yourself, don’t you? Huh?”

“Who else is there to think about?” I asked, puzzled.

“He’s got a point, toots,” said Brutus.

She turned on him in a flash.“Oh, now you’re taking his side?”

“No, but…”

“You men! You’re all the same! Never a thought about anyone but yourselves! Have you ever considered Odelia’s feelings, Max?”

“Um…”

“How devastated she’s going to be when you die?”

“Well, I don’t intend to die anytime soon, so the point is moot.”

Dooley, who’d followed the back-and-forth with mild interest, laughed. “Moot. Funny word.”

“The way you’re going, you are going to die soon, Max. And Odelia is going to be crushed. For some reason—Lord only knows why—she seems to care about you, and the loss will be a blow.”

I thought about this. Maybe Harriet was right. If I died—which was a very big if, mind you—Odelia wouldn’t take the news well. She did like me a lot. And what was not to like? I’m funny, charming, handsome, clever and I provide great entertainment.

“Look, I’m not going to die, Harriet,” I said. “So you can stop with all the scaremongering. I know you’re jealous because I cracked another case and you’ll say just about anything to upset me but it’s not going to work.”

“Good one, bro,” Brutus muttered.

I glanced over. Weird. Brutus was taking my side now? This was something new.

“Well, I’ll have you know that if you keep digging your grave with your teeth the way you’ve been doing for some time now you’ll be dead within a year. Probably even less. So there.”

“Is she right, Max?” asked Dooley. “Are you going to die soon?”

“Of course I’m not going to die! I’m far too young to die!”

“Not if you keep eating those Cat Snax,” said Harriet. “That stuff will kill you.”

“Pretty tasty, though,” Brutus muttered, refusing to meet Harriet’s gaze.

“And the same goes for you, Brutus,” said Harriet. “If you can’t stick to your diet we’re finished. Kaput. The end.”

He directed a pleading look at her.“Come on, babe. I’m not as fat as Max. Just look at us. He’s a lot fatter than me. He’s at least twice my size.”

“That’s because he’s a different body type,” she snapped.

Brutus lifted his face to me, the look of a long-suffering cat in his eyes.‘See what I’m dealing with here?’ the look seemed to say. ‘You’re not the only cat who’s in pain.’

And then I got it. For some reason, Harriet had put her beau on a diet. And knowing Brutus as a great trenchercat, one whose jaws never seemed to stop mauling some little morsel or snack, he was probably in his own private hell right now. And since misery loves company, he was obviously looking upon me as a friend. A fellow sufferer of this diet craze.

“Brutus,” Harriet said as she headed for the door. “Are you coming?”

Brutus directed a longing look at the kitchen, where my bowl of Cat Snax stood.

“Brutus! I’m not going to tell you twice!”

The former bully hung his head and shuffled out the door, his proud spirit broken.

“You know? I’m actually feeling sorry for the guy,” said Dooley, watching him leave.

“Me too. Who would have thought Harriet could turn into the cat from hell?”

“I did,” Dooley said ruefully. “She once accused me of being a spineless yellow-belly.”

“But why?”

“For not standing up to you more.”

“To me!”

He nodded.“She figured you treated me more like a slave than a friend sometimes, and told me to rise up and not take any more of your crap.”

“Why, the little minx! Trying to drive a wedge through our friendship!”

“You have been kind of insufferable lately, though, Max. So maybe Harriet had a point.”

“Insufferable? Me? Are you crazy?!”

Dooley winced.“I think it’s the diet. It makes you cranky.”

“I’m never cranky! I’m the picture of equanimity and poise!”

“I don’t know what that means, but you have to admit you have a pretty short fuse these days. I love you, Max, but it’s tough being your friend when you’re hungry.”

I thought about this. Maybe Dooley was right. I did get pretty cranky when I was hungry, and I did have a tendency to take it out on others. I gave him a rueful look.“I’m sorry, buddy. I guess you’re right. I don’t like feeling hungry, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“That’s all right. I don’t like being hungry either. I guess none of us do.”

I plunked my head down on my paws.“I know one thing, Dooley.”

“What’s that?”

“Dieting sucks.”

“Well, at least the case is solved. I’m sure Odelia will lighten up now.”

“Yeah, at least there’s that.”

From beyond our garden, Harriet’s high-pitched voice reached our ears.

“Brutus! I told you not to eat that mouse!”

“But I like mice!” Brutus said plaintively. “They’re full of proteins.”

“Too many saturated fats! Now come along. Time for our power walk. Work off that fat!”

I shared a look with Dooley, and we both shook our heads.“Poor Brutus,” I said.

Chapter 26

“I can’t believe she’s dead,” Zelda wailed. The effect of whatever she’d been on had worn off by now, and she finally seemed to realize what she’d done.

Chase and Odelia were sitting across the table from the actress, whose hands were shackled down. Odelia directed a pleading look at Chase, who took the keys to her cuffs out of his pocket and released the woman.

“She was my best friend!” Zelda continued to wail, gratefully accepting the box of tissues Odelia placed in front of her.

“I thought she was your greatest rival,” said Chase.

“She was—but being the greatest rivals created a bond. After my career tanked, Donna was the only one who cared to look me up. She helped me find an apartment when my money ran out and even paid the rent. She was the only true friend I ever had.”

Now this was news.“So where do you live now?” asked Odelia.

“Long Island City. I moved out here when Donna moved out here.”

“And Donna was paying your rent?”

“She was. Now that she’s gone I guess that’ll be over.”

“Maybe not. Maybe she put a provision in her will for you.”

Zelda looked up hopefully.“You think?”

“Didn’t you ever talk about this kind of stuff?”

She shook her head.“Donna figured we’d live forever. She refused to discuss death. Said if we just ignored it we might be able to cheat it.” She laughed through her tears. “She was a real hoot once you got to know her.”

“What about royalties from your movies?” asked Chase. “You made so many amazing movies. Possibly the best and greatest franchise in the history of cinema.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I can tell you’re a real fan, Detective. But back when I made those movies I wasn’t a star at all. I was just a beginning actress and I signed a lousy deal. I got paid twenty-five grand for the first one, a bit more for the others. The last one netted me three hundred thousand.”

“Not exactly big money.”

“Not exactly. If you subtract taxes, agent fees, social security and all that, there wasn’t a whole lot left. Not enough to retire on, that’s for sure.”

Odelia caught Chase frowning. It was obvious that there was no motive for Zelda to murder Donna. Not if she stood to lose her benefactor. The woman who’d helped her out all these years.

“Are you sure you don’t remember where you were yesterday morning, Zelda?” I asked.

She shook her head.“I get these memory lapses. I’ll lose hours at a time.”

It wasn’t hard to figure out why that was. Officers had found Zelda’s abandoned car a mile from Donna’s house, the door open. Inside, they’d discovered enough weed to supply a small colony. And the smoking thing Dooley and Max had seen her use inside the house wasn’t incense but Zelda’s bong, which explained the pungent odor that had permeated the house.

“Did Donna also finance your marijuana habit?” she asked.

The woman’s eyes widened. “Marijuana? I don’t have a marijuana habit.”

“Come on, Zelda,” said Chase. “We found your car. And your stash.”

She sobered.“That’s for medicinal purposes only. I have allergies.”

“Pot helps with allergies?”

“Pot helps with everything,” she said with a lazy grin. “I could actually use some right now. Can you hook me up?”

“Are you really asking a cop to hook you up with drugs?” asked Chase.

She narrowed her eyes.“Is that a trick question?”

He turned to Odelia.“Can I talk to you outside?”

They both left the room.“I don’t think she did it,” said Chase once they were alone.

“You’re only saying that because she’s your hero.”

He pointed at the woman behind the one-way mirror.“Do you seriously want me to believe that wreck of a human being had the presence of mind to steal a hive of bees, then execute the perfect crime? She doesn’t even remember how she got to Donna’s house in the first place. Not to mention the fact that Donna paid her rent and who knows what else.”

“I was just kidding. I don’t think she did it either.”

“Oh, Christ!” Chase yelled, fisting his fingers in his hair and pulling. “Back to square one!”

“Looks like it,” Odelia confessed. She studied Zelda for a moment, who was now making finger guns and pretending to shoot at the ceiling. Probably reenacting one of the stunts she’d done without a stunt double on the set ofStar Cars.“We’ll just have to keep on digging,” she finally said.

“We got the analysis back on some tire tracks we found behind Donna’s house.”

“And?”

“Toyota Tacoma. We’re putting together a list of Tacoma owners. It might take a while.”

She nodded. Good old-fashioned police work. Chase was an ace at that kind of thing, and so was her uncle. She depended more on her instincts, her cats and… sheer luck. She rubbed her eyes.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” he suggested. “You look beat.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll do that. I could use a few more hours. What about you?”

He smiled.“I’m one of thoseStar Cars dudes, babe. We don’t need sleep, only stardust.”

She leaned in for a kiss, and that’s when something started vibrating in her pocket. Chase reached down and took it out. It was a small black plastic thing, shaped like a rocket. With an expert hand, he switched it off and tucked it back into her pocket, then cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at her.

She blushed.“I’m one of thoseStar Rig gals, babe. We don’t need guys, only batteries.”

He stroked a finger along her cheek, and huskily said,“Whenever you change your mind about that, you know where to find me.”

Chapter 27

Odelia had dropped by the house, announcing that we weren’t out of the woods yet. The case, which we’d assumed closed, was still wide open, Zelda Yoke not the cunning killer we’d pegged her as. Bummer. Harriet, returning from her power walk with Brutus, was ecstatic, though.

“I knew it!” she yelled. “I just knew it! No way Max and Dooley caught the killer.”

“Why is it so hard to believe we would catch the killer?” I asked, feeling a little offended.

“Because you’re boys,” said Harriet with amazing lack of logic and reason. “Come on, Brutus. We’re leaving.”

“But we just got here!” the big, black cat cried. He was lying spread-eagle on the floor, trying to catch his breath.

“And now we’re leaving. We have a killer to catch and no time to waste!”

And just when I thought she was going to hit the street and pound the pavement, just like any old-fashioned detective, she hopped up on Odelia’s computer table and fired up the computer. With a grunt of despair, Brutus hauled himself up from the floor and shuffled after his ladylove. Glancing over his shoulder, he muttered, “Never get married, fellas. Don’t do it.” And then he joined Harriet at the computer, ready for another fewhours of surfing the web.

Odelia, who’d taken a shower and looked more human when she returned downstairs, said, “Are you guys coming?”

“Nah-uh,” said Harriet without looking up from her no doubt strenuous activity. “We’re busy trying to find the killer, Odelia. Isn’t that right, sugar-pop?”

“Whatever you say, snuggle-cup,” said Brutus, having trouble keeping his eyes open.

Odelia stared at the twosome, and for a moment I thought she was going to say something, but then she seemed to think better of it. She turned to us.“What about you guys? Are you coming?”

“Yes, please,” I said. Anything to get away from Harriet, who was in a particularly annoying mood today.

We rode in Odelia’s pickup to the office, where she dropped us off. “Don’t wander off too far,” she warned as she locked the car. “And remember about your diet, Max. Don’t fall off the wagon.”

“I won’t,” I promised her. We watched her disappear into the offices of the Hampton Cove Gazette and then set foot down the street.

“So where are we going?” asked Dooley.

“Why don’t we pay a visit to Kingman?” I suggested. “We haven’t seen that cat in a while.”

Kingman is Wilbur Vickery’s piebald. Wilbur runs the General Store and sells pretty much everything the grown cat needs—and the grown human, for that matter. Dooley must have seen right through me, for he said, “We’re just gathering information, right? Not food?”

“Of course! How can you even think about food at a time like this? We have a killer to catch, Dooley, and if we’re ever going to beat Harriet at her own game, we need to move fast.”

“You don’t really think Harriet is ever going to catch the killer by spending time on that computer, do you?”

“I think chances of that happening are slim to none.”

We padded over to the Vickery General Store, and found Kingman, perched on the counter, keeping his human company as usual. When he saw us waddling up, he gave us a cheerful salute.“Hey there, fellas. Long time no see. What’s happening in your neck of the woods?”

“Oh, nothing special,” I said, trying to come across as cool and laidback as Kingman himself.

“Max is on a diet,” said Dooley, “and he’s not allowed to eat anything other than diet food. So if you were thinking of feeding him some special snack, think again, because if he doesn’t stop being morbidly obese he’s going to die soon and break Odelia’s heart and I’ll lose my best friend and I don’t think I can take that.” He choked up and both Kingman and I looked at the ragamuffin in surprise.

“Dooley,” I said. “I had no idea you felt so strongly about this dieting thing.”

“I didn’t know either,” he said in a strangled voice. “Not until Harriet said all that stuff about you dying and all. I don’t want you to die, Max. I don’t want to lose my best friend in all the world.”

“I’m not going to die, buddy. I’m as fit as a horse.”

“You’re the size of a horse,” said Kingman. “Dooley is right. You are too fat for your own good.”

I directed a scathing look at him.“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not fat! I have big bones. It runs in the family.”

“You can fool yourself but you can’t fool me,” said Kingman. “You look just about one sausage away from a massive coronary.”

God. If there’s one thing I hate it’s a cat that has no filter, and Kingman is just such a cat. “All right, all right,” I said. “I’ll lose weight. I’ll slim down until I’m as slim as you.”

“Not as easy as it looks,” said Kingman. “My body is my temple. I treat it with respect.”

“Treat your body with respect, Max,” Dooley urged. “If not for yourself, do it for me.”

“I already told you I would do the diet thing,” I said. “And my word is my bond.”

Dooley seemed pleased by this, giving me encouraging pats on the back.“I’m so glad you’re finally seeing the light, Max. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you.”

Ugh. All this sentimentality was seriously getting on my nerves. And then I caught sight of a nice piece of steak that was lying on the floor where someone had dropped it. I looked left. I looked right. Nobody had spotted it. And even without any instigation from me, my paws starting plotting a course to the piece of red steak. I could already feel the texture in my mouth—taste it on my tongue—imagine it sliding down my throat. And I was about to pounce on the delicious morsel when suddenly Dooley entered my field of vision and said, “No, Max. You promised.”

“But it’s red meat! Red meat is good for me!”

“It’s fattening. The last thing you need right now is to fatten up even more.”

“I won’t fatten up,” I told him. “I promise!”

“Eat this and I won’t be your friend anymore,” Dooley said with uncharacteristic severity.

“Huh?”

“I’m not going to stand idly by and watch you eat yourself to death, Max.”

“Well, you don’t have to. You just have to watch me eat that tasty bit of steak.” And I made a move to snap it up, only to be forestalled by Dooley once again.

“Choose, Max. Me or that steak.”

Phew. Tough choice. Still, instinct is instinct, and red meat is red meat, and I would have gobbled the bit of steak if I suddenly hadn’t caught sight of a familiar figure.

“Hey, isn’t that Donna’s CEO Hillary Davies?”

“I’m not going to fall for that, Max. You’re just trying to distract me.”

“No, but it really is. Look, she just ran into Donna’s ex-husband.”

“You’ll have to do better than that. You know me, Max. Nothing gets past me.”

“Oh, and those must be Donna’s kids. Sweetums and Honeychild. Look how Hillary is smiling so sweetly at those kids. It’s obvious she’s crazy about them.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Dooley said, and grabbed the bit of steak between his teeth and devoured it in one go. He swallowed, then turned to where I was looking.

I stared at him, aghast.“Did you just eat my piece of steak?”

“It wasn’t your piece of steak.”

“But you just told me it was fattening.”

He lifted his chin.“I’m your friend, Max. If I have to sacrifice myself for your sake, I will gladly do so.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.“Eating a perfectly delicious and juicy bit of steak doesn’t sound like much of a sacrifice to me.”

“A friend’s gotta do what a friend’s gotta do.”

And then we both watched as Hillary Davies picked up Sweetums and Honeychild, who turned out to be two adorable apple-cheeked little boys, and hugged them close. Tad Rip watched on with a smile on his face. It was the scene of perfect familial bliss, if not for the fact that it should have been Donna and not her CEO hugging those kids.

“We have to find the killer, Max,” said Dooley, obviously sharing my sentiments.

“Yes, we do,” I said, and never had I been more resolved to put my best paw forward. Watching Dooley swallow down that tasty sliver of steak I had marked for my own might have had something to do with it as well. I was pretty sure that if we caught the killer, Odelia would be more than happy tobuy me not just a tiny piece of steak but a complete slice!

Chapter 28

Odelia was feeling restless. She’d written her article—what little she knew about the case at this point—and now there was nothing else to do but go over all the elements again until something jumped out at her that would provide the final clue. That moment when everything clicked into place. And she’d revisited the crimescene in her head and had gone over all the interviews she and Chase had done but still nothing took her to that aha moment she was looking for. Nothing.

Even Max and Dooley were coming up empty, and if Harriet and Brutus had found something online they weren’t telling, which meant Harriet was probably just surfing to all the gossip sites as usual.

She looked up when a deferential cough sounded. Her editor Dan was watching her from the doorway, thoughtfully rubbing his long white beard.“Stuck, kid?” he asked in his smoky voice.

“Yeah, pretty much,” she admitted.

“You know what I do when I get stuck?”

“Have a smoke?”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t smoke, Dan. And I’m not going to start simply because this case doesn’t make sense.”

“I’m not telling you to smoke, honey. I’m telling you to take a break.”

“Take a break?”

“Don’t look at me as if I just suggested you to go and harpoon some whales. Taking a break is a perfectly legitimate solution to getting your brain unstuck.”

“But I still have a ton of work. There’s the county fair, the new addition to the marina, the paddleboard competition—”

“Those can all wait. As your editor what I want you to do right now is to take a break. Get away from your computer for a couple hours and take your mind off things for a while.”

“You’re a weird editor, Dan,” she said. “Most editors prefer to work their reporters to death.”

He pointed a stubby, crooked finger at her.“And that’s exactly what I don’t want you to do. I like you too much to see you work yourself to death, Odelia. And I know from experience that sometimes all you need is some perspective.”

“And a break.”

“And a break. So shut down that computer of yours, get out of here, and don’t let me see you for at least the next couple of hours.”

“So what do you suggest I do?”

He threw up his hands.“Go for a walk! Take a swim. Sit on the beach and look at the damned tourists for all I care. But most importantly, don’t think about the case!”

Which, as she soon discovered, was easier said than done. She’d gone for a walk, and had walked as far as the boardwalk, taken a seat on one of the benches the town council had been so kind to install, and had stared out across the ocean for a bit. The water was pretty choppy, and kids were squealing happily as they jumped into the cresting waves. And she’d been sitting there for twenty minutes, doing her absolute darndest to empty her mind and NOT think about the case and NOT check her phone, when a deep voice sounded beside her.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Oh, God,” she said. “Am I happy to see you.”

Chase took a seat next to her on the bench.“Not that I’m not flattered, but any special reason?”

“I’ve been trying hard NOT to think about the case.”

He grinned.“Which is just about the best way to think about the case.”

“It is?”

“Of course. What if I tell you NOT to think about pink elephants?”

Suddenly, all she could think about were pink elephants.“I see what you mean.”

“Who gave you this sterling piece of advice?”

“Dan. Said if I didn’t get out and take a break I was never going to get anywhere.”

“Same here,” Chase said with a deep sigh. “Only it was your uncle who kicked me out.”

“So here we are. Marooned on the beach.”

“Yep. You can say that again. So why don’t we try NOT talking about the case, huh?”

She laughed.“You’re funny, do you know that, Detective Kingsley?”

“You take that back right now,” he said with a grin. “Police detectives are not supposed to be funny. It is not in the job description.”

“But you’re not a detective now, are you? You’re on a break, and so am I.”

So they sat there for a bit, a convivial silence descending upon them, when suddenly a woman started screaming nearby for help. Immediately, both she and Chase were on their feet.

They reached the woman, who was cradling a little girl in her arms. The girl’s breathing was labored and her face deathly pale.

“What happened?” Chase asked urgently.

“She was stung by a bee,” the woman wailed.

“She’s in shock,” Odelia determined. “Did you call 911?”

“I did,” said the woman, tears streaming down her face.

Chase checked the girl.“She’s not breathing,” he said, and immediately started CPR. Odelia took out her phone and called her dad. He just might beat the ambulance. She watched Chase perform the lifesaving procedure and when he announced that she was going to be fine, she breathed a sigh of relief and so did the girl’s mother. Just then, her dad’s car pulled up, and he came hurtling down the stone steps and plowed through the powdery sand until he’d reached them. He was carrying his black doctor’s bag and sank down onto his knees next to the girl.

“She was stung by a bee,” Odelia told him.

He nodded and went to work. She watched how he took out a needle and proceeded to inject the girl.“Epinephrine,” he told the mother. “She went into anaphylactic shock. Has this happened before?”

“No, never. But she’s never been stung before either.”

“Some people are allergic to bee stings.” He carefully monitored the girl’s pulse and checked her vital signs. “How do you feel, honey?” he asked when she began to pull through.

She coughed.“I feel nauseous,” she said thickly.

“That’s normal,” he assured her. “As is the swollen tongue and lips. Does your tummy hurt?”

The girl nodded.“Yes, it does.”

He smiled at her.“You’ll be just fine, darling. What’s your name?”

“Jessica.”

“I’m Doctor Tex, and you’re a very brave girl, Jessica. You’re doing great.” He turned to Jessica’s mother. “She’ll feel the effects for a couple of days, but they’ll wear off soon enough.”

“Oh, doctor,” the woman said. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Thank my daughter,” said Tex. “She’s the one who called.”

“Thank Chase,” said Odelia. “He’s the one who performed CPR.”

The woman thanked all of them, and gave Chase a big old hug before enveloping her little girl in her arms and smothering her with kisses.“I thought I lost you,” she sniffed.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Jessica said, embarrassed at the display of affection in front of a bunch of strangers. “It was just a tiny, little prick. Though that bee sting really hurt.”

In the distance, the sound of an approaching ambulance could be heard. It pulled up right next to Odelia’s dad’s car and two paramedics jumped out and made their way over. Odelia and Chase watched as the EMTs gave Jessica a thorough checkup.

“That was a close call,” said Chase. “She’d completely stopped breathing for a minute there.”

She placed a hand on his arm.“You saved that girl’s life, Chase. You’re a hero.”

“Just doing my duty,” he muttered. “Anyone would have done the same.”

“Not everyone. Didn’t you notice how you were the only one who made an effort?”

“Not many people know CPR,” he admitted. “Though probably they should.”

Dad joined them, still carrying his little black bag.“She’ll be fine,” he announced. “Spirited little thing, isn’t she?”

“She sure is,” Odelia agreed as she watched the girl animatedly talk to the paramedics and the one lifeguard who’d finally decided to put in an appearance. She looked like she was enjoying all this attention, and demanded her mother take a bunch of pictures with her phone.

“Reminds me of something,” Dad said.

“Me too. Donna Bruce,” Odelia said.

“No, something a colleague once told me. Some woman who wanted to try apitherapy on her daughter, who was suffering from rheumatoid arthritis.”

“Apitherapy?” Chase asked.

“Bee sting therapy. The venom of bees purportedly alleviates the effects of the arthritis. Unfortunately the girl turned out to be allergic to bees, just like Jessica over there.”

“What happened?” asked Odelia.

“She died. When the mother realized what was going on, she called 911, but too late.”

“That’s a horrible story,” said Chase.

“When was this?”

“Oh, I must have heard this story… about six, seven years ago? I think it was at one of those conferences. There’s a lot of bar talk when a bunch of medical professionals get together.”

“There’s a lot of bar talk when any professionals get together,” said Chase. “Or non-professionals for that matter.”

For some reason, the story rang a bell with Odelia.“Where did this happen?”

Dad frowned.“I don’t remember exactly. I want to say… Cleveland?”

Cleveland… Odelia wondered why this story resonated with her so much, but before she could think things through, the EMTs wandered over and started discussing what happened to Jessica with her dad. She checked her watch and decided it was probably time she headed back to the office. Dan had told her to take a break, but she still had a ton of work to do. Chase seemed to feel the same way, for he asked if he could drop her off somewhere.

As he drove her back to the Hampton Cove Gazette, her mind drifted back to the story her dad had told them. Bees. This whole thing revolved around bees. But how? And why?

Chapter 29

We were home again, Dooley and me. We’d done all our usual haunts: the hair salon, the police station, the alleys and back alleys of Hampton Cove, talking to other cats, but they’d yielded no results. On top of that, I was tired. Subsisting on diet food like I did, I tired easily these days and all I wanted was to take a nap and float off into oblivion.

Unfortunately when we walked in through the glass sliding door, Harriet and Brutus were still there, like a couple of unwanted guests you just can’t seem to get rid of.

“And? What did you find?” I asked, jumping up onto the couch and settling down in my usual spot.

Harriet merely frowned, as if I’d asked her the wrong question.

“Nothing,” Brutus replied in her stead. “Bupkis. Diddly squat. Jack shit.”

“Brutus!” Harriet snapped. “Language.”

“It’s true though, isn’t it?” asked Brutus, whose long surfing session seemed to have galvanized him. “I know everything about Justin Bieber’s tattoos and even which kidney Selena Gomez had implanted but I still know precious little about who offed Donna Bruce.”

Harriet lifted her chin.“We just have to keep on looking. It’s only a matter of time before we hit on the telling clue.”

“Not by surfing that darned Interweb we won’t. How many times can you read about Kim’s Paris attack? Seriously, I’m done.” And to show us he meant business, he hopped down from the computer table and stretched and yawned.

“Brutus! We’re not finished yet.”

“I’m sorry, toots. I would tell you I cared about how much weight Mama June lost but I don’t.”

Harriet’s ears colored. “I’ve been looking at other stuff, too.”

“Right. What Honey Boo Boo looks like these days. I’m a cat, honey munch. I don’t care about that stuff. What I do care about is treating myself to a nice piece of meat at regular intervals, lounging on the couch with my precious—which is you, by the way—and sneaking around the neighborhood after dark, chasing critters and fighting off trespassers. So if you care to join me—which I sincerely hope you do—you’re welcome. If you prefer to find out what the Real Housewives of Nowhereville are up to, that’s fine, too. But don’t expect me to stick around, cause I won’t.”

Harriet looked shocked after this unexpected harangue.“Brutus,” she muttered brokenly.

“Now what’s it gonna be, sugar puss?”

Her blush had deepened.“Brutus, you’re suddenly so… dominant.”

“A tom’s gotta do what a tom’s gotta do. Now are you with me or not?”

“Brutus,” she breathed, deserting the world of reality TV and dropping down from the computer table. She stalked up to her beau, her tail trembling wildly. “Oh, Brutus…”

Brutus grinned at me and gave me a wink.“Watch and learn, fatso. Watch and learn.”

I responded with an eyeroll. So the old Brutus was back, huh? Of course he was. He’d just been suffering from a temporary weakness, as was to be expected.

“We’re hitting the town, boys,” Brutus announced when Harriet had sidled up to him and was rubbing herself provocatively against his flank. “Don’t wait up for us.”

And with these words, the revolting couple was off, leaving Dooley and me reeling. Well, Dooley was reeling. I wasn’t.

“Why can’t I be more like Brutus, Max?” Dooley lamented. “If I could be more like Brutus maybe Harriet would like me too. And then I’d be the one who took her out on the town.”

“Do you really want to take Harriet out on the town?”

“Of course I do! She’s so…” He sighed forlornly. “… wonderful.”

“Oh, Dooley,” I muttered, and closed my eyes. I only woke up when something was poking me in the side. I tried to slap it away but the poking only intensified.

“Max! Max, wake up!”

“I’m a cat, Dooley. I’m always awake,” I reminded him. Though as a matter of fact I’d actually been sleeping soundly, dreaming of that nice piece of steak Dooley had stolen from me. “What is it?” I finally asked, reluctantly abandoning my dream. If I couldn’t eat steak, at least I could dream about it. As far as I know, dreams aren’t fattening. Or are they?

“I think I found something,” Dooley announced.

“If it’s not meat I don’t want to know,” I muttered, and closed my eyes again.

“It’s about Hillary.”

“I don’t care about politics, Dooley.”

When he didn’t respond, I opened my eyes again and found him staring at me. “What do you mean you don’t care about politics?”

“Hillary Clinton. Donald Trump. I just don’t care.”

“Who are Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump?”

“My sentiments exactly. Now leave me be. I have to conserve my strength. I’m on a diet.”

“Poor Hillary Davies lost her daughter a couple of years ago.”

“She did, huh? That’s terrible,” I muttered, trying to go back to sleep.

“I was surfing the web, typing in the names of all the suspects in the Donna Bruce murder case and that’s what came up.”

“Terrible tragedy,” I murmured.

“Oh, and they’re doing a remake ofStar Cars, only without Zelda Yoke this time.”

“Too bad.”

“And Dexter Vald?s is writing his autobiography. It’s calledLife with a Tiny Wiener.”

“Very tempting.”

“And Ransom Montll? is setting up a new version ofA Star is Born, only this time it’s an indie production, made with local talent and featuring Ransom himself and his dog Flea in the lead.”

“That’s just great. Now if you could just let me—”

“Hey, you guys!” Odelia cried, walking in. “I’m home.”

I groaned in agony. Why was it suddenly so hard to get some sleep around here?

“Hey, Odelia,” Dooley said with a smile. “I’ve just discovered a whole new bunch of clues.”

Odelia was immediately interested, which just told me how desperate she was. Obviously her investigation was going nowhere, same way ours was. Odelia listened patiently as Dooley rattled off his list of‘clues’ while I tried to drown out the droning sound of his voice. Then, suddenly, he must have said something interesting, for Odelia uttered a startled cry and jumped up from the couch like a rocketing pheasant, grabbed her purse and was out the door in a flash. She briefly returned to shout,“You guys just solved this case!” and then she was gone again.

I stared at Dooley, who seemed ecstatic.

“We just solved the case, Max! We solved the case!”

“We did?”

“Didn’t you hear Odelia? We found Donna’s murderer!”

“So who is it?”

Dooley’s exuberance waned. “Um… I don’t know.”

I shrugged, and went right back to sleep. Humans. They’re all nuts.

Chapter 30

Odelia pressed her lips together in a grim expression. She had a pretty good idea what had happened and who was responsible for the murder of Donna Bruce, and as usual her cats had provided her with the telling clue. And as she drove over to Donna’s house, the old pickup hurtling along the road and kicking up spray, she pushed the engine to the max. It whined and rattled in protest but she didn’t care. She had to reach the house before it was too late and the bird had flown.

A snippet of conversation had drifted back into her memory. Donna’s house was going to be put up for sale, her uncle had told her. Tad had no use for it as he was moving back west with the boys after the funeral. The house was going to be emptied out, the most valuable stuff shipped to LA and the rest sold locally or simply thrown away. When she and Chase had found Zelda Yoke asleep in Donna’s bed she’d already noticed a lot of stuff was missing, which meant cleanup was well underway. And she knew exactly who was in charge.

When she arrived at the house she saw that the gate was wide open so she didn’t hesitate and drove her pickup up the driveway and parked next to the red Fiat that stood with its rear end backed up to the front door, its trunk open.

She walked up to the house, the thought of calling Chase briefly flitting through her mind. But she wasn’t entirely sure her hunch was right, and if it wasn’t she didn’t want to inconvenience Chase.

She moved into the foyer and called out,“Hello? Anybody here?”

The sound of her voice echoed hollowly in the empty space. They hadn’t lost any time, as she saw most of the furniture had already been moved out. She must have just missed the moving crew.

She headed deeper into the house, past the living room and kitchen and into the fitness area. An indoor pool displayed a perfectly tranquil surface, and she could only imagine how many laps Donna must have swum in the chlorinated water. She wouldn’t mind owning her own private pool someday, actually. Must be fun to take a swim before breakfast every day.

She took a peek inside the gym, where the equipment had been dismantled and moved out. Only a few loose weights lay around on the floor, and instruction posters for the best posture still decorated the walls. There were even a few posters of Donna in her prime, back when she’d starred inCar Rigs. The former actress posed in full star warrior costume, defiantly staring into the camera, a collection of freakishly weird space creatures collected at her feet.

And that’s when she heard a noise. It wasn’t loud. Just a footfall. She looked up in alarm.

“Hello? I just want a quick word.”

She moved toward the back of the private gym and found herself in the sauna space, the wood cabin where Donna had met her end to the right, a few wooden benches placed beneath wooden pegs to her left, several terry bathrobes still dangling from them. She noticed that the door to the sauna was ajar, and wondered if anyone was in there. She took a quick peek but saw that the space was empty. Drawing back, she suddenly heard movement behind her and when she spun around, found herself gazing into the cool blue eyes of Hillary Davies, Donna’s trusty CEO.

“Oh, hi, Hillary,” she said, quickly recovering from the shock. “I was looking for you.”

Hillary smiled. Her head was covered with a scarf and she was wearing coveralls and gloves.“I was just finishing up in here.”

“Tad asked you to handle the move?”

“Yes, he did. He didn’t want a bunch of strangers rooting through Donna’s personal stuff, so he asked me to coordinate the whole shebang. The realtor was in here just now.”

“So Tad is selling the place, huh?”

“Yeah, this place and the other one. He never was much of an East Coast guy anyway. I think he’s secretly glad he can move back to LA with the boys.”

She cleared her throat.“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Hillary.”

The woman raised her eyebrows.“Oh?” She wiped her gloved hand across her nose, leaving a dark smudge.

“You… lost a girl a couple of years ago, isn’t that right?”

Hillary nodded.“Suzy. Yeah, we lost her. And then I lost Henry, too.”

“Henry?”

“My husband. He couldn’t process Suzy’s death so he… took his own life shortly after.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah.” She sniffled, wiping her nose again. “That was a tough time for me. A real tough time.”

“She… died after you tried apitherapy to alleviate the consequences of her rheumatic arthritis, right?”

She nodded, blinking now.“She was only ten, but suffering so much. I never even knew kids could get arthritis. Doctors said there wasn’t much they could do, and she was in so much pain…”

“And then you read about Donna’s apitherapy experiments.”

“I got one bee—only one, mind you—just to have a try. Henry wasn’t too keen, but I persisted.”

“Because Donna advised it.”

“Donna.vip has always been my bible. Long before I started to work for her. Donna knows.”

“But what Donna didn’t know was that bee sting therapy can be very dangerous.”

“Even lethal,” Hillary said, her voice hoarse now. “One sting, that’s all it took.” She looked away, swiping at her eyes. “I placed it on her arm with a pair of tweezers, just the way I was supposed to. Henry was working late, and Suzy had been complaining about the pain again, so I decided to give it a try. Suzy was brave—oh, so brave. She said she didn’t mind a little prick. She was actually more worried about the bee than herself. Said she didn’t want the bee to die, like she read online. The prick was fine. Just a little sting, just like I promised. But then…” She choked. “She had trouble breathing, her throat closing up.”

“Probably because her tongue was swollen.”

“She looked into my eyes and said the bee had made her dizzy. And then her eyes turned up and she was gone. I—I tried to revive her but I—I couldn’t. By the time the ambulance showed up, it was too late. She—she died in my arms. And all from one little bee sting.”

“Anaphylactic shock. One sting is enough.”

“I didn’t know,” said Hillary, shaking her head. “The website… there had been no warning, no instructions on what to do if something went wrong. So…”

“So you blamed Donna Bruce for the death of your girl.”

Hillary merely stared at her, eyes wide, face pale.

“You decided that if you could only get close enough to her, you might find a way to make her pay. And you were in luck. She needed a CEO and you had just the right qualifications. So you worked closely with her, trying to figure out how you could get your revenge.”

“The woman was totally irresponsible,” said Hillary. “She didn’t care. All she cared about was making more money and becoming the biggest name in lifestyle advice. When I told her perhaps we should add a disclaimer to the site—at least to the most controversial claims, she laughed me out of the room. Said if people were dumb enough to buy the junk she was peddling, they got exactly what they deserved. That’s when I knew she was simply evil.”

“So you killed her.”

“Yes,” said Hillary, her clear blue eyes unwavering. “And I made sure she suffered just as much as Suzy did. And as much as Suzy’s mommy and daddy did. I did it for her. And for Henry.”

“I understand, Hillary,” said Odelia. “And I’m sure that a jury will, too, when they hear the whole story.”

The woman frowned.“A jury? What are you talking about?”

“If you come with me now, you can turn yourself in. I’ll be there every step of the way.”

Hillary laughed.“You can’t seriously think I’m going to jail for this.”

“You killed someone, Hillary. You didn’t think you were going to get away with this, did you?”

“Of course I’m getting away with it. I did what was right. I killed the woman who killed my little girl. Donna got exactly what she deserved, and my only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner.”

“Donna had two children of her own. I’m sure they won’t feel the same way.”

Hillary pressed her lips together.“Donna didn’t care about those two little brats. All she cared about was herself, and the attention she could get as a mother of two. She used those kids. To her they were nothing more than a PR stunt.”

“Let’s just—hey!”

Quick as a flash, Hillary gave her such a powerful shove that she fell backwards, tumbling through the open door into the sauna cabin. And before she could get up, the former CEO had slammed the wooden door shut and bolted it from the outside. A sudden sense of panic rose in her chest like bile. She pounded the door.“Let me out! Let me out right now!”

But Hillary merely regarded her coolly, and then she was gone.

“Hey! Hillary!”

She darted an anxious look at the ceiling, hoping the same fate that had befallen Donna wouldn’t happen to her. She would hate to be stung to death by a couple thousand bees! When no sound came through the ventilator, she sighed with relief. But then she noticed the temperature in the small space was rising and rising fast. God, no. Hillary had turned up the heat—probably cranked it up to the max! And had turned off the fan.

She tried the door but it was bolted shut. She pounded the one tiny window that offered a view of the outside but it was thick glass, unbreakable without the right tools. She quickly searched her pockets but came up empty. Her purse containing her phone was still in the pickup.

The heat was rising quickly and sweat broke out on her brow. Worse, she was starting to have trouble breathing because of the lack of ventilation. She understood now what Hillary was trying to accomplish. She’d simply let her die from heat exposure. Make it look like an accident. Already she was feeling the strain, and dropped down on the wooden bench. She removed her T-shirt and jeans, and tried to stay calm and collected. Panic wasn’t her friend right now—slowing down her heartbeat and helping her body deal with this sudden assault was.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember the few yoga lessons she’d taken. Slow breaths. Centering herself. Someone would come. She’d get through this. She was not going to die.

As the temperature soared, she was now sweating so much her underwear was soaked and she was starting to feel dizzy. And just before she dropped down on the bench, she thought she felt a rush of cool air and a face swimming before her eyes. And then she passed out.

When she came to, she found herself gazing into Chase’s eyes. She was lying on the floor and someone was poking at her arm.

“Chase?” she asked weakly. “Where am I? What happened?”

He smiled.“Thank God. I thought I lost you, honey. How are you feeling?”

She smacked her lips.“Thirsty.”

He laughed, and when she looked down, she saw that a male nurse was checking her pulse.“She’ll be fine,” he said. “She’s going to need a lot of fluids, though.”

“I’ll make sure she gets what she needs,” Chase assured the man.

She looked around, and saw she was right outside the sauna, the sauna door open. Then memory returned and she tried to sit up. The moment she did, her head started swimming again.“Hillary!” she cried. “Hillary tried to kill me!”

“I know,” said Chase, gently easing her down again. “We got her. She’s in custody.”

“And how is my favorite niece?” asked her uncle, crouching down next to her.

“I’m your only niece,” she said weakly.

Her uncle seemed worried.“Please, Odelia, if you don’t want me to die from heart failure, never pull a stunt like this again. Next time you want to confront a suspect, call for backup.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t sure Hillary was the one—though I had my suspicions.”

“Good thing Chase had the same suspicions.”

She gave Chase a look of surprise.“You did?”

“After what happened on the beach I started looking for the name of that girl from Cleveland. Don’t ask me why. A hunch, I guess.”

“Women’s intuition,” she said with a smile. “It’s rubbed off on you.”

“That might well be the case. Cause that girl turned out to be Hillary’s daughter. Died seven years ago after an apitherapy attempt gone wrong. It wasn’t a big leap from that incident to Donna’s death by bee sting, so…”

“So you flew to my side like a rescuing angel.”

“Only a lot uglier,” Uncle Alec said with a grin.

Odelia placed her hand on Chase’s cheek. “Chase isn’t ugly. He’s gorgeous.”

“That’s just the drugs talking,” Chase grunted.

“’No, that’s me talking. I think you’re gorgeous, Detective Kingsley. And I thank you for saving my life.”

Uncle Alec shuffled uncomfortably.“I’ll give you kids some space,” he muttered, and got up.

“The Chief is right, Odelia,” said Chase. “Please don’t pull a stunt like this again. Next time call me first.”

“I will,” she promised him. “And my cats, of course.”

“Of course. Where would we be without your cats?”

“Nowhere! They solved this whole thing! Well, Dooley did, at least.”

“Of course he did. Let’s get you out of here. You’re not making any sense.”

He helped her to her feet and she leaned on him as they walked away from that fateful sauna cabin. She noticed someone had dressed her in a thick sweater. Since it said NYPD on the front she assumed it was Chase’s. “What happened to my bra and panties? They must have been soaked.”

“I… removed them,” he said, blushing slightly. “But I looked away as I did.”

“Of course you did,” she said, placing her hand on his chest and squeezing.

“Now what was that about me being a gorgeous rescuing angel again?” he asked when they were out in the open, and making their way to his car.

“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you?”

“It’s not something I hear every day.”

“Well, if you propose to me, Chase Kingsley, I promise I will tell you all that and more.”

He eyed her sternly.“Still the drugs talking. Let’s get you to your father.”

“Yes, because you’ll have to ask his approval. He’s old-fashioned he is, my dad.”

“Ask for his approval, huh?”

“Yep. Ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage.”

“And if he doesn’t approve?”

“Then you’re shit out of luck, buster.”

He laughed.“Now I know it’s the drugs talking.”

“I’m serious!”

“So am I. Let’s get you home and into your jammies.”

“Ooh. Naughty naughty, Detective.”

Unfortunately, the moment she stepped into his car, she passed out again. She had a dim recollection of Chase carrying her up the stairs and tucking her into bed. He pressed a kiss to her brow, hoisted Max onto the bed and then she fell into a well-deserved sleep.

Epilogue

When I finally looked up from my bowl, I was feeling extremely pleased with myself. In the days that had passed since Odelia had caught Donna’s killer, I’d stuck to my diet and Dooley had stuck to his. And as I had slimmed down, Dooley had packed on the pounds. It was probably too much to say we were the same weight, but we were a lot closer in size than before. Dooley would always be a skinny cat, of course, and me a more sizable one, but I liked to think we’d both benefited from this uncomfortable episode in our lives.

When Chase had brought Odelia home, half unconscious, it had come as quite a shock to us, and when I’d seen her like that, I’d sworn that I was going to lose those pounds no matter what. We’d obviously let our human down in her hour of need and I was feeling very badly about it, even though Odelia said there was nothing we could have done.

I still felt that if I’d been more alert, we would never have allowed her to go off without her feline assistants by her side. I needed to be fitter, healthier and stronger than ever, if I was going to be my human’s protector, and for some strange reason all of a sudden I didn’t feel so hungry again all the time, or so weak. And even the diet food suddenly tasted better.

Which just goes to show: it’s all a matter of psychology. I once saw that on the Discovery Channel, so it must be true.

It was barbecue time at the Pooles again, and for the occasion Odelia had placed four bowls in a row, our names printed on the sides: Max, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus. The fearsome foursome. And for the first time in days, I wasn’t eating diet kibble but an actual piece of red meat!

All the usual suspects were present and accounted for: Tex and Marge, Vesta, Uncle Alec, Odelia and Chase. After we’d eaten our fill, us cats jumped up on the porch swing and settled in for the evening, watching our humans eat. Watching humans is actually one of my favorite hobbies, apart from cat choir and snooping around, of course.

Odelia wandered over, a Coke Zero in her hand.“And? How was the food?”

“Delicious,” I said. “Though I don’t feel like I deserve it.”

“Oh, stop it, Max,” she said with a smile. “You guys cracked this case.”

“No, Dooley did,” I said honestly. “I just slept right through the whole thing.”

“You all worked together, just like you’re supposed to. And I’m very proud of you. All of you.”

“You are?” asked Harriet, who’d been feeling kinda bummed out at the role she’d played. Or not played.

“Yes, I am. You guys are a real team. My fierce feline team.”

“Talking to your cats again?” Chase asked, ambling up.

Odelia turned to him.“Of course I am. I’m crazy cat lady, remember?”

“You’re my lady,” he said huskily, and took her in an embrace. Smooching ensued, and cheers rang out from Odelia’s family. It was safe to say this burly cop was a big hit with the Poole clan.

Just then, a skinny, pimply UPS guy arrived in their midst, and asked,“Vesta Muffin? Who’s Vesta Muffin?”

“Oh, God. Not again,” Tex muttered.

“That’s me,” said Gran. “Right here, buddy.” She took reception of a small package and signed off on it. And then she went and handed it to… Marge. “Here you go, honey. This is for you.”

Marge gave her mother a look of surprise.“For me? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. And I even paid for it with my own money.”

Marge opened the package, and discovered it contained a pair of gold hoops.“Mom!”

Gran nodded.“Just my way of apologizing for all that hoopla with the bees.”

Mom wiped away a tear and took her mother in an embrace.“I love you, Mom.”

“And I love you, honey. Thanks for putting up with me all these years. I know it can’t have been easy.”

Us cats also wiped away tears. Humans. They can really surprise you sometimes.

And as the Pooles sat down for dinner, Marge showing off her gold hoops and Tex showing off his barbecue skills, Uncle Alec and Chase discussed the case and Gran… was carefully looking around, then, when she was sure no one was watching, took the box that had contained Marge’s hoops and retrieved it. And as she stalked off towards the house, I thought I could hear a definite buzzing sound coming from inside that box. When she saw four cats watching herevery move, she pressed her finger to her lips. “Not a word, all right?” she whispered, and disappeared inside.

Humans. They’re completely bananas. Or is it beeneenees?

“So Dooley cracked this case, huh, Max?” asked Brutus. “And you slept right through it.”

I might have admitted this to Odelia but I wasn’t going to admit it to Brutus. “Dooley cracked this case but he had a lot of help from me,” I said therefore.

“Max is right,” said Dooley. “I could never have done it without him.”

“But you’re the one who discovered that telling bit about the bees, right?” Brutus insisted.

I saw where he was going with this.“Let me stop you right there, Brutus,” I said. “I was the one who taught Dooley how to surf the web, so technically I’m the one who discovered that clue.”

“Horse manure,” Brutus growled. “You admitted yourself you were passed out on the couch at the time while Dooley did all the heavy lifting. He’s the real hero here. Isn’t that right, Harriet?”

Harriet was otherwise engaged, though, as she sat staring out at the hedge at the end of the garden.“Mh?” she asked finally, when Brutus nudged her. “Oh, you’re right, smooching partner. Dooley solved this case. He won fair and square.”

“It wasn’t a contest,” Dooley muttered, eyeing me uncertainly. “You heard Odelia. We all worked together. Played our part. We’re a real team. Odelia’s fierce feline team.”

“But you played a bigger part than the rest of us,” Brutus said. “So you should get the credit.”

“Oh, I don’t know…”

Brutus slapped him on the back and Dooley hiccuped.“Sherlock Dooley. Got a nice ring to it.”

“I was just messing about online,” Dooley said nervously. “No biggie.”

“You made us all look good, buddy. Respect.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

“And you, Max, have completely lost your touch. I think it’s all that weight loss. It’s affected your brain. I knew this would happen.”

“You did?” I asked, wondering where he was going with this.

“Sure. You lose weight, you lose brain cells. And you, my friend, have lost so much weight you must have lost half of your brain. It’s a miracle you can still think straight. Quick, how much is nine divided by three?”

“T-three?”

He grinned at me.“You weren’t sure, were you? Admit it, Max. Your brain resembles a big chunk of cheese. Swiss cheese. With a big bunch of holes in it. More holes than cheese.”

I gulped, the vivid picture Brutus was painting affecting me powerfully.“You think?”

“Of course!” He shook his head sadly. “Good thing Dooley’s brain is as sharp as ever, or else Odelia would have to trade you in for a new model. Can’t have a cat sleuth with Swiss cheese for a brain.”

He was right, of course. I had been feeling a little weak lately. And after allowing Odelia to walk off into danger like that, it was obvious I was slipping and slipping badly.

“Don’t listen to him, Max,” said Dooley. “Your brain is fine.”

“But I have lost a lot of weight,” I said, gesturing at my flabby belly.

“Brains aren’t muscles,” Dooley said.

“Are you sure?”

He hesitated.“Reasonably.”

I shivered from head to toe. I could see my brain shrinking even more. Soon there would be nothing left!

“You know what I’ll do?” asked Brutus.

“What?”

“Just out of the goodness of my heart, mind you.”

“What is it?”

“From now on why don’t I assume a leadership role in this small outfit of ours?”

I found myself nodding even before he’d finished the sentence. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Dooley will be the brains of the operation—obviously. Harriet will be the pretty face. And I will run the outfit.”

“And me?” I asked in a feeble voice.

He eyed me sternly.“Why don’t I appoint you my assistant?”

“I would like that,” I said, still thinking about my cheesy brain. “But do you think I’m up to the task?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see,” he said. “Somehow I doubt it, Maxie baby, but I’m willing to take a chance on you. That’s the kind of cat I am. Kind-hearted and generous to a fault. Isn’t that right, babe?”

Harriet, still focused on the end of the garden, murmured her assent.

“What are you looking at, sweet cakes?” Brutus asked, annoyed now.

But Harriet didn’t respond. Instead, she jumped down from the swing and picked her way along the humans, who were all gathered around Doctor Tex, toasting his lovely wife Marge.

“What’s the matter with Harriet?” asked Dooley.

We followed Harriet with our eyes, and when she finally reached the hedge, she plunked down on her haunches and just sat there. At least, that’s what I thought. When I looked closer, I saw her lips were moving. She was talking to someone, and that someone was partially obscured by the boxwood hedge.

“Oh, my God,” said Dooley.

“What? What?!” Brutus cried.

“It’s… Diego.”

We all goggled at the scene, and when the orange cat finally emerged from the hedge, and rubbed noses with Harriet, we all gasped in shock.

Our mortal enemy Diego had returned.

“What do we do?” asked Dooley, panicking. “Brutus? What do we do?!”

But Brutus, our newly self-appointed leader, had been struck dumb. Finally, he turned to me.“Max!” he bleated like a sickly sheep. “What do we do?”

“But I thought you were our leader!”

“I can’t be the leader! This is Diego we’re talking about! And he’s stealing my woman! Again!”

“Well,I can’t be the leader. I have Swiss cheese for a brain!”

“I was just joshing you! Your brain is fine!”

“See?” asked Dooley. “Brains aren’t muscles. They’re… something else.”

A feeling of resolve stole over me as I regarded Diego, who’d casually draped a paw across Harriet’s shoulder and was looking more smug than ever. Then I said, “Winter is coming, fellas.”

“What does that even mean?!” Brutus cried, desperately shaking his paws.

I shrugged.“No idea. But it’s got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Just then, Diego blew us a kiss, his face splitting into a particularly cheeky grin.

Brutus, Dooley and I watched him stoically. This meant war.

6. PURRFECT RIVALRY

Chapter 1

I woke up from a sudden chill and discovered I’d fallen asleep on the kitchen floor again. In spite of my protective layer of belly muscle insulating me against the cold, I was freezing. The first thing that occurred to me was the startling observation that the reason for my vigil—the protection of my bowl of food—had been for naught: the bowl was empty!

I quickly trotted over and gasped. To my horror, all three of my bowls had been emptied overnight: the one containing my extra-crunchy vitamin-enhanced prime-brand kibble, the one with my extra-yummy Cat Snax, and even the one with my purified fresh water, which Odelia makes sure is filled to the brim every evening before she retires to bed.

I groaned in dismay. I knew whodunit, of course. It was the whole reason I’d started my nocturnal kitchen vigil. To protect my food supply. And now my stash had been raided. Just like it had been raided the night before, and the night before and the night before that!

Gah. This was getting ridiculous.

Chilled to the bone—a condition exacerbated by the kitchen door being ajar, another irksome habit of the food thief—I decided to warm myself in Odelia’s bed. I padded out of the kitchen into the living room and then up the stairs. The sun was already making a valiant attempt to hoist itself over the horizon andwould soon be casting the world in its golden hue. Time for Odelia to wake up, and for me to enjoy the best part of the day: my daily snuggle with my human, my nose pressed into her armpit while I purred up a storm and she cuddled me and made me happy to be alive.

This morning, as Odelia gently returned to the land of wakefulness, I made up my mind to have a heart-to-heart talk with her about the state of affairs at the house, and tell her straight out about my long list of grievances. She needed to get rid of the vile serpent she’d nursed at her unsuspecting bosom for far too long.

Odelia is a sweetheart. Too sweet for her own good. It was time to point a damning finger at the horrible pest who’d invaded our lives and allow things to go back to normal.

I trudged up the stairs and with some effort arrived at the top. Crossing the landing, I set paw for her room, then glanced up at the bed. Odelia sleeps in one of those boxspring contraptions, and navigating the jump onto the bed has lately proven something of a challenge. Since Odelia put me on a diet things have improved, and I now made the jump without a hitch, and more or less gracefully landed on all fours on the foot of the bed.

My human was still sleeping peacefully, her even breathing indicating she didn’t have a care in the world. My heart warmed and a smile slid up my furry face. Odelia might be misguided, she’s the kindest and most decent human I know, and I actually looked forward to pressing my wet and cold nose to her side and basking in the warmth of her embrace.

And I was just about to join her when I discovered to my extreme horror and dismay that a smallish orange cat had beaten me to the punch and had wriggled himself into Odelia’s arms, enjoying an embrace that was rightfully mine! Diego! He’d taken my spot!

Even as I was gawking at the spectacle, my mouth opening and closing a few times in helpless fury, the foul usurper opened his eyes and gave me an insolent stare with those slate gray eyes of his, as if to say: whatcha gonna do about it, buddy?

And then he produced the most triumphant grin any cat has ever produced since cats have found it in their generous hearts to give humans the benefit of their company.

“Hey, doofus. Finally decided to wake up, huh? I thought for sure you passed out.”

“I wasn’t passed out. I was sleeping,” I indignantly told the orange menace.

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, bud,” Diego said, and then closed his eyes again, nestling deeper into Odelia’s embrace.

Her long blond tresses were spread out across the pillow, and Diego, without a doubt the foulest cat who’s ever lived, eagerly dug his face into her hair, just the way I like to do, and breathed in her delicious human scent, a wicked smile spreading across his features.

“Hey,” I hissed, reluctant to wake Odelia up. “That’s my spot! You stole my spot!”

Diego smirked.“And now it’s mine. Got a problem with that, fatso?”

My teeth came together with a click.“For your information, I’m not fat. I’m big-boned. It runs in my family. And yes, I do have a problem with that. Just like I have a problem with the fact that you ate all of my food! And that you left the door open again last night!”

“My food, you mean. And why wouldn’t I eat it? Odelia put it out for me.”

“It’s my food and you know it! She puts out separate bowls for you and for me and you ate everything—my foodand yours!”

“You know what, Max? I think it’s time you and I laid down some ground rules. I mean, if we’re going to be living together and all we need to set some boundaries.”

I liked the sound of that.“Okay. First rule: don’t touch my food. Second rule: don’t use my litter box. Third rule: don’t snuggle up to Odelia in the morning. That’s my job and she hates it when other cats take over from me. I’ve got that extra-special snuggle she likes which, along with my extra-special purrs, puts her in a good mood for the rest of the day.”

“I like your rules, Max. They seem more than fair. Which is why I’m only going to make a few slight emendations. First rule: your food is now my food. Second rule: your litter box is now my litter box. Third rule: Odelia prefers my brand of snuggles so your morning cuddle time is now my morningcuddle time.” He gave me a wink. “Thanks for listening.”

At this, clearly feeling he’d said what he had to say without inclination to elaborate, he closed his eyes and burrowed deeper into Odelia’s armpit, purring up a storm.

To my not inconsiderate consternation, Odelia actually started stroking his fur!

Diego opened one eye as if to say,‘See? My extra-special snuggles hit the spot.’

I would have hit a spot on his head had I been less of a gentlecat. Instead, I gave Odelia a soft nudge, then, when she still refused to wake up, resorted to my trademark kneading technique: placing both front paws on her stomach and pretending it was a piece of dough that needed to be persuaded into perfect consistency and shape. And when that still didn’t give me the result I was looking for, I added some claw for that extra oomph you want.

Odelia opened first one seaweed-green eye and then the other, and finally a smile spread across her features.“Max. Diego. So nice to see you guys getting along so well.”

I would have lodged a formal protest had she not invited me into the crook of her right arm, even while Diego occupied the crook of her left, and soon I was purring away.

Diego might have tried to take my place in Odelia’s heart, just like he’d taken my place in her home and my litter box, but it was obvious that my human still cared about me, and soon my frigid bones were warmed up again, and so was my wounded heart.

Chapter 2

Having woken up with not one but two cats in her arms, Odelia Poole started the new day with a smile and the distinct impression she was truly blessed.

She’d been slightly anxious when Diego entered their lives again—it’s always a tough proposition for a cat to accept the introduction of a second cat into his home—but she now felt that Max was adjusting wonderfully. Soon he and Diego would be best buddies, exchanging high-fives and chasing mice together—or whatever it was that buddy cats did.

She displaced both felines, drawing a disappointed mewling sound from Max, and slid from between the covers. She placed both feet into her bunny slippers and shuffled over to the window and threw the curtains wide, allowing the sun to stream into the bedroom.

Gazing out across her modest domain—the small patch of backyard that she called her own—she reveled for a moment in the pleasant sound of birdsong and saw that a tiny sparrow was sitting in the top of a beech tree and was singing at the top of its tiny lungs.

“A private serenade,” she murmured, enchanted. “Much obliged, good sir or lady.”

She rubbed her eyes, then stretched and yawned cavernously. Shuffling out of her room, only half awake, she picked her way along the stairs. Before she’d imbibed a decent amount of caffeine, she usually felt as if she’d much rather still be in bed, even though her mind had decided she should kickstart her day. As the intrepid—and only—reporter for the Hampton Cove Gazette she had things to do, people to meet and articles to write.

She started the coffeemaker and rummaged around in the fridge and kitchen cupboards for something edible when she became aware of a marked chill in the air.

Searching around for the source of the cold front that had rolled in, she saw that the kitchen door was ajar. She urgently needed to install a pet door, so Max and Diego wouldn’t keep pushing open the door in the middle of the night. There had been a spate of breakins lately, and holding an open house day in and day out perhaps wasn’t such a good idea.

Not that she had a lot of valuables to steal—or other stuff sneak thieves would be remotely interested in. One simply cannot amass a wealth of material possessions on a reporter’s salary. But still. No sense in giving them easy access to her home and hearth.

She made a mental note to talk to her dad. Then, discovering she was out of cereal, milk and yogurt, decided not to postpone the urgent missive but deliver it in person.

So she slipped her feet into the galoshes she kept by the kitchen door, cinched her pink terry cloth robe tighter around her slight frame, and stepped out into the backyard.

Since her parents lived next door, and a convenient opening in the hedge that divided the respective backyards provided easy access, she arrived at her final destination in seven seconds flat, without breaking a sweat, cup of coffee in hand, taking occasional sips.

The hits of caffeine drove the sleep from her body, and by the time she was opening her parents’ screen door and stepping into their kitchen, she was more or less human again.

“Hey, sweetie,” said her mother, who was pouring herself a cup of coffee. “You’re early.”

“Ran out of breakfast essentials,” she intimated, and started foraging the fridge. Juice, milk, yogurt… Check, check and check. She took a bowl from the cupboard over the sink, dragged down the oversized box of Corn Flakes, and started her own breakfast prep.

Her mother, who was the spitting image of Odelia, albeit with a touch of gray streaking her own blond hair, called out,“Tex, honey! Breakfast is ready!”

Taking a seat at the kitchen counter, Odelia quickly dug in, alternating between scooping up her cereal, now soaked in milk and drowned in fruit yogurt with half a banana, and sipping from her coffee, to which her mother now added creamer and a spoon of sugar.

“How are things going at the paper?” asked her mom, taking a seat at the counter.

“Great. I still have that article to finish about the new school play and the upcoming senior citizen dance—and I’m still hoping to get lucky and land that exclusive one-on-one with the one and only Charlie Dieber!”

“Ooh. Aren’t you the lucky one?”

“Yeah. So far Dan struck out with Charlie’s management, but I’m hoping they change their minds. Keeping my fingers crossed!”

Mom crossed her fingers and so did Odelia. They were both equally big Dieber fans.

Odelia’s father, who’d entered the kitchen, asked, “Dieber. Isn’t he that actor—”

“Singer, Dad.”

“Right. I knew that.”

Tex Poole was a large man, with a shock of white hair and an engaging smile. He was digging around the cupboards, opening door after door, until Mom said,“Food’s on the table, hon.”

He glanced down at the bowl of oatmeal porridge Mom had placed on the counter and grimaced.“It’s at times like these that I sincerely regret attending medical school. Why couldn’t I have become a plumber, and be blissfully unaware of the importance of diet?”

Mom waved a hand.“Even plumbers have to watch their cholesterol levels. No more saturated fats for you. Those levels need to come down and they need to come down before you go and have a stroke or some other horrible incident I don’t even want to think about.”

“Yeah, Dad,” said Odelia. “Even plumbers need to look after their pipes.”

“Ha ha. I never knew I raised a comedian for a daughter.” He plunked down, staring at the distasteful-looking sludge, spoon raised but not making any indication to start eating it.

“Here, have some of my yogurt,” Odelia said, feeling sorry for her dad, who’d been forced to put himself on a diet after discovering his cholesterol levels were off the charts.

He gratefully added some yogurt to his porridge, took a deep breath and dug in.“I know this stuff is healthy—but why does it have to taste so bad?”

“You’ll get used to it,” Mom said.

“Oh, Dad, if you have time, could you install a pet door over at my place?”

“I’ll do it today,” said her father, visibly quivering when the first spoon of oatmeal hit his esophagus and the gloop proceeded to slide down his gullet and into his stomach.

“Wasn’t it today that Charlie Dieber was on Morning Sunshine?” asked Mom.

“Oh! Right! Better turn on the TV,” she instructed her mother.

Mom obligingly switched on the TV set, but the story featured on the televised radio show was an item about freshly hatched chicks, and Odelia quickly lost interest.

“Looks like we just missed it,” said Mom.

Just then, Odelia’s grandmother waltzed into the kitchen, holding her new iPhone to her ear, and nodding seriously. “Yes, Your Holiness. But there are children dying in Angujistan every day, and we need to get a handle on the situation before things get out of hand.”

Odelia exchanged a puzzled look with her mother, who merely rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Pope Francis,” said Gran as she took a seat at the counter and gestured at her empty cup that read, ‘Greatest Grandma in the World.’ Odelia poured coffee into the cup while Gran continued her curious conversation. “Yeah, I agree we can do more, Your Holiness. Have you thought about getting in touch with the United Nations or UNICEF? I would advise you to get on the horn with Ban Ki-moon pronto, Francis. Just tell him what I just told you.” Her wrinkled face creased into a wide smile. “No,you’re welcome, Your Holiness. Us Catholics have to stick together. Yes, just doing my part for world peace.”

She disconnected, placed her iPhone on the table and took a sip of coffee. Only then did she notice that the rest of her family were intently staring at her.

“What?” she asked. “Never heard a woman chat with the Pope before?”

“You were actually chatting with the pope just now?” asked Odelia. “The pope?”

“The one in Rome?” asked Dad, gratefully using this interruption as an excuse to put down his spoon.

Gran shook her head, causing her tiny white curls to dance around her wrinkly features.“Do you know any other popes? Of course the one in Rome. I told Francis he needs to get a handle on this Angujistan business before more people die and he agreed wholeheartedly. As he should. When a fellow Catholic calls in with an urgent message it’s only natural that he would be thrilled. He told me he’d heed my most excellent advice.”

“Your grandmother has been advising world leaders,” said Mom at Odelia’s unposed question. “She’s already talked to Bong Si-moon.”

“Ban Ki-moon,” Gran was quick to correct her.

“That one. He runs the United Nations.”

“Great guy,” said Gran. “Very happy to chat.”

“And who was that other one you talked to?” asked Mom.

“Try to keep up, Marge. Bill Gates. Sharp dude. We talked about providing housing for the poor. I gave him a few suggestions and he was more than happy to jot them down.”

Dad gave Odelia a knowing look.“We’re in the presence of greatness, Odelia.”

“Yeah, forget about Charlie Dieber,” Mom added. “It’s your grandmother you should be interviewing.”

“But how?” Odelia asked. “How do you get in touch with these people?”

Gran shrugged.“I have my ways.” She hopped from the stool with surprising agility. “Gotta be going. I’m expecting a call from the President. Give him a piece of my mind.”

And with these words, she stalked off, frowning at her phone and very much looking the part of the highly regarded proficient advisor to the world’s political and business elite.

Odelia was going to ask her parents what the heck was going on, but Mom shushed her and turned up the volume on the TV set. As they watched, the host announced with breathless relish that shots had been fired at Charlie Dieber as he exited the studio. Visibly disappointed, the radio jockey clarified that Charlie was unharmed and that his bodyguard had sustained the brunt of the attack and had been pronounced dead at the scene.

“Sweet Jesus!” Mom cried, pressing her hands to the sides of her head. “Thank God Charlie lives!”

“Poor bodyguard, though,” Odelia said, shaking her head.

“Yeah, imagine having to take a bullet for Charlie Dieber,” Dad quipped.

Mom shut him up with a pointed look.“The man died so Charlie could live. He’s a hero and a saint and should be praised for his brave and selfless act.”

Dang. Mom was an even bigger Bedieber than Odelia would have guessed.

She promptly got up.“This is big,” she announced. “I have to get over there and break this story.”

“And while you’re at it don’t forget to ask for Charlie’s autograph, honey,” Mom said as she moved to the door.

“If I get within ten feet of Charlie I’m not going to nag him about autographs, Mom.”

“You promised!” she called out after her.

“That was before someone tried to drill a hole in him!”

Chapter 3

We were seated in Odelia’s backyard, me, Dooley and Brutus, for an emergency meeting. Hidden behind the gardenias, from time to time ducking our heads up to see if the coast was clear and we weren’t being overheard, we conducted our meeting with the stealth and solemnity the situation demanded. We were at war, and it was all paws on deck.

“He ate all your food?” asked Dooley. The gray Ragamuffin looked shocked.

“Everything. Every last morsel,” I confirmed.

“That’s not very nice.”

“Not nice?! It’s downright criminal!”

“You can have some of my food,” Dooley magnanimously offered. “There’s plenty.”

“Yeah, have some of mine, too,” said Brutus, a powerfully built black cat who’d been my mortal enemy until not all that long ago. In fact the arrival of Diego had created a bond between us that had wiped out our former enmity and turned us into unlikely allies instead.

“Will you look at that?” Dooley asked, a somber note in his voice.

We peeked through the gardenias and Brutus drew in a sharp breath when he saw Diego seated on the terrace with Harriet, pressing their paws together in a cloying picture of loved-up cuteness. Any moment Celine Dion could burst into theTitanic theme song.

“Don’t look, Brutus. Just don’t look,” I advised the cat, who’d been Harriet’s beau before Diego’s fateful return.

But Brutus couldn’t tear his eyes away from the train wreck even if he wanted to. Nor could I, actually, or Dooley, who’d also been one of Harriet’s admirers. In fact it was safe to say I was probably the only male feline for miles around who’d never been into the white Persian. No idea why that was. Probably the fact that she was one of those haughty specimens, who enjoyed lording it over other cats, a quality that set my teeth on edge.

“This is too much,” growled Brutus. “Stealing your food. Stealing my girlfriend—”

“Stealing my litter box and my morning cuddle with Odelia,” I said somberly.

They gawked at me.“He uses your litter box?” asked Brutus. “Say it isn’t so, Max!”

I nodded in confirmation.“Sadly, yes. I’ve been forced to do my business in Odelia’s rhododendrons ever since Diego’s return. No way am I going to suffer the indignation of relieving myself in a place that reeks of Diego. Talk about suffering the ultimate humiliation.”

Brutus and Dooley sat in stunned silence, as they imagined having to share a litter box with Diego. This was bad, their silence seemed to indicate. This was extremely bad.

“Did you say he stole your morning cuddle with Odelia?” asked Dooley.

“He did.” I proceeded to describe my shock and dismay when I discovered Diego snuggling up to Odelia that morning. How he didn’t even bat an eye when I confronted him.

“Oh, the horror,” muttered Brutus. “The heartbreak. The infuriating gall of the cat!”

“We have to do something about this, you guys,” I said. “I feel like he’s slowly but surely trying to get rid of me. Before I know it, Odelia will vote Diego Most Valuable Cat.”

“Odelia would never do that,” said Dooley, eyes wide. “Would she?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Diego is trying to poison Odelia’s mind,” said Brutus.

I stared at him.“Poison Odelia? But why?”

“Poison her mind—set her against you.”

“No way,” Dooley gasped. “There’s just no way!”

“Oh, yes, there is,” Brutus assured him. “He’ll feed her all kinds of lies. Start with something innocuous, like the fact that Max left some poop on the floor, for instance.”

Dooley turned to me.“Max! Did you poop on the floor?”

“Of course I didn’t poop on the floor! He’s talking about Diego.”

“Diego pooped on the floor?!”

“Oh, Dooley,” I said. “Try to pay attention.”

“Diego could poop on the floor,” Brutus explained, “and then tell OdeliaMax did it.”

The pure deviousness of the scheme seemed to shock Dooley, for he audibly gasped.

“And when she’s finally had enough, she’ll get rid of Max,” Brutus continued.

“Get rid of me!”

Brutus nodded somberly.“The animal shelter, Max. Where all cats go to die.”

“Noooo!”

“Oh, yes. Mark my words. Before you know it, you’ll be locked up in a cage the size of a shoebox, waiting to be gassed or whatever it is that they do at these establishments.”

I sank back on my haunches, the terrible fate that awaited me suddenly looming large and ominous.“I don’t want to go to the shelter, you guys. I don’t want to be gassed!”

“You might get an injection,” Brutus said. “I’ve heard some even offer electrocution.”

His words provided no comfort. I’d suffered injections from Vena Aleman, Odelia’s go-to veterinarian. And I’d seenThe Green Mile.No electrocution for me, thank you very much.

“We have to stop him,” I said, a tremor in my voice. “We have to do something.”

“Before Diego poops on the floor,” Dooley added, his mind stuck on that image.

“Then let’s get rid of this pest,” said Brutus, pointing a resolute claw at Diego.

“But how? We tried to get rid of him before, remember? He’s hard to dislodge.”

“There’s only one cat in this town who’s ever managed to get rid of Diego,” said Brutus, “and that’s Clarice. We have to find her and convince her to repeat the procedure.”

“I remember,” I said, cheering up a little. Clarice is a feral cat, Hampton Cove’s very own dumpster-diving feline superhero, swatting away lesser cats with a flick of her paw and putting the fear of God into everyone she meets. Even though I’m scared stiff of her—and so are Dooley and Brutus—she’s helped us out on more than one occasion, and even received a standing invitation from Odelia to raid her supply of cat food any time she wants. Not that she ever shows her whiskers around here. She prefers to traipse through the woods that surround our small hamlet, roaming around unfettered like the maverick cat that she is.

“Brutus is right, Max,” said Dooley. “Clarice is our only hope.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Last time she drove him away he quickly returned. What’s to make him stay away now? And who’s to say Clarice will want to do our dirty work for us?”

“Max is right, Brutus,” said Dooley. “Clarice takes orders from no one.”

“We’re not going to order her around,” said Brutus. “We’ll ask her nicely. In exchange for a lifetime supply of Cat Snax I’m sure even she can be persuaded to do the right thing.”

“Brutus is right, Max,” said Dooley. “No one says no to a lifetime supply of Cat Snax.”

“Clarice is going to need more than Cat Snax. You guys, we’re talking about a cat who feeds on mice and rats and who knows what else. This is a raw foodie—not a pampered pet.”

“Max is right—”

“Oh, shut up, Dooley,” Brutus growled. “So we’ll offer her raw meat—I don’t care. If I have to I’ll catch her some nasty, hairy rats myself.Anything to get rid of that horrible pest.” He turned a vicious eye on Diego, who was now exchanging tender smooches with Harriet, and lowered his voice to a menacing snarl. “That cat’s got to go, before I commit felinicide.”

Chapter 4

Odelia parked her dinged-up pickup around the corner from the radio station and got out. Hiking her purse higher up her shoulder and smoothing her purple blouse and jeans skirt, she set foot for the place where the terrible events had unfolded. Chase Kingsley’s pickup stood parked haphazardly across the curb, and so did her uncle Alec’s cruiser. And as she drew closer to the W-AWOL5 radio station, she saw that a small mass of onlookers stood rubbernecking while Hampton Cove’s finest were going about their business of finding clues.

There wasn’t all that much to see, actually, as the Dieber himself and his crew were long gone—no doubt ducking into a limo and racing from the scene with screaming tires the moment the shots rang out—but young girls with Dieber Tshirts and Dieber banners still stood lining the sidewalk, just the way they’d done when their idol was exiting the station.

W-AWOL5 was housed on the first floor of a nondescript building, a temp agency occupying the ground floor. And as Odelia approached she saw that police officers working for Uncle Alec were busy talking to the hordes of Dieber fans and other witnesses, no doubt extracting statements from each and every one of them.

And that’s when she caught sight of her uncle himself, standing out because of his sizable bulk—her uncle was easily thrice as big as she was—and his snazzy Chief of Police uniform. He stood scratching his ruddy face and russet sideburns, looking decidedly puzzled.

“Hey, Uncle Alec,” she said as she joined him on the curb.

“Odelia, honey,” he said by way of greeting, then slapped a hand to his brow. “I should have called you. Totally forgot.” He shook his head. “It’s been a real shit storm.”

“I can only imagine. Is this where it happened?” She was pointing at a spot on the pavement, which was marked with a chalk outline of a body.

“Yeah. That’s where he dropped dead. Name of Ray Cooper. Only been a bodyguard for a year or so. Played pro ball before—Green Bay Packers. After he retired from the game he decided to go into the personal protection racket, and ended up on Dieber’s security detail. Can you imagine taking a bullet for that annoying little twerp? Talk about bad luck.”

Odelia grinned.“Not a big fan, are you, Uncle Alec?”

“Nope. Can’t stand the kid. I mean, if you’re going to take a bullet, do it for the President, or a talented dude like Bruce Springsteen or Garth Brooks. Not some obnoxious tattoo junkie who can’t sing for crap and has the mentality of a spoiled brat.”

“Talking about the Dieber, I presume?” asked Chase, walking up.

Odelia smiled up at the tall cop—who also happened to be her boyfriend. “Hey, Chase. So are you a Bedieber?”

“I’m with Alec on this one,” the lanky detective intimated, his blue eyes flashing with good humor and his lips curling into a slight grin. “If you’re going to take a bullet for someone, better have that someone be more of a mensch and less of a pain in the neck.”

“Well, I’m a fan,” she said. “I think he’s got a great voice, and I love all of his songs.”

Both men groaned.“I guess there’s no accounting for taste,” said Alec.

It was obvious they were going to have to agree to disagree on this one.

“So what happened, exactly?” she asked, deciding to change the subject.

“Well, Dieber and his entourage left the radio station,” said Uncle Alec, gesturing at the entrance that was located right next to the temp agency. “Hundreds of fans waiting when he walked out—his team had anticipated the warm reception so they had bodyguards in a diamond formation escorting the star to a waiting limo while others assisted some of our guys with crowd control, keeping the fans behind the barriers the town council had us erect. And that’s when someone decided to take a shot at Dieber but hit Ray Cooper instead.”

“Did they miss? Or did Cooper throw himself in front of the shot?”

“That’s what we’re trying to determine,” said Chase, his smile vanishing. “So far Dieber’s people haven’t exactly been obliging. In fact I’m going over there later. Try to get them to cooperate. Wanna join me?”

She jumped at the chance.“Talk to the Dieber? Are you kidding? Of course!”

“Cool it, Bedieber. This is a murder investigation, not a meet and greet.”

“I know that,” she said, trying to inject a modicum of solemnity into her demeanor. Her radiant smile gave her away, though. So far Dan’s attempts to land her an exclusive sit-down had been a bust. Now she would get some face time with the star after all. Though instead of asking him about his love life she’d have to confine herself to threats made against his life.

She didn’t care. She was going to meet her biggest idol—yay! She just hoped she’d be able to restrain herself, and not go all fangirl on him. Though she was sure Chase’s presence would keep her feet on the ground and prevent her from making a complete fool of herself.

“I’m heading back to the station,” Alec announced. “Not much more we can do here.”

Odelia decided to tag along. If she was going to get to the bottom of this she needed to stick to Chase and her uncle like glue. The funny thing was, they usually let her. Even though she was a reporter she had great instincts as a snoop, and had helped them out on more than one case.

“You know?” said Chase as they walked back to their respective vehicles. “Your status as an official Bedieber just might come in handy. You know an awful lot about the guy, huh?”

“Ask me anything,” she said.

“How does a kid who sounds like a sickly goat become a global pop sensation?” asked Alec.

“Ask me anything not insulting,” she amended.

“Why don’t you join us on the investigation?” Chase suggested. “I have a feeling this might prove a tough one to break, and if Dieber meets a true groupie like you, he just might be more accommodating to our line of questioning. Open up, if you know what I mean.”

She frowned, not knowing whether to be insulted or complimented.“For your information, I’m not a groupie. I’m just a very big fan. I think he’s extremely talented.”

“Exactly. The guy obviously has a gigantic ego—all those big stars do—and if I take you along to stroke it…” He spread his arms. “Done deal, babe.”

She shook her head as she hopped into her pickup.“You know what? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were jealous, Kingsley.”

“Jealous! What’s there to be jealous about?”

“His success? His mega-fortune? His millions of fans?”

He made a throwaway gesture with his hand as he, too, climbed into his pickup.“I’m not jealous. Of that knucklehead? Puh-lease.”

She shared a quick smile with her uncle, who was shaking his head at their war of words.“Kids—do try to get along, will you? We’ve got a murder to solve, and a killer to catch. Preferably before he kills Odelia’s personal hero.”

His words startled her. And as she started up her car, she realized he was right.

Someone was trying to kill Charlie Dieber. And if they didn’t catch this guy before he succeeded, those millions of Bediebers—not to mention Mom—would be devastated.

Chapter 5

Odelia slipped her pickup into a free parking spot in front of the police station and climbed out, slamming the door shut. A big chunk of rust dropped down. She ignored it. When you drive a car as aged as hers, this kind of thing was to be expected.

Inside the station house she was greeted by sheer pandemonium. Usually not much happened in Hampton Cove—from time to time a flurry of activity would keep its police force engaged, but pretty soon things would return to normal. Now, however, the town’s finest were locked into a feverish attempt to nail the perp who’d taken a shot at Dieber and missed.

Officers moved in and out of offices and interview rooms, and everywhere she looked teens and preteens occupied the space otherwise reserved for the town drunks, hard-partying weekend tourists and the elderly, complaining about those same hard-partying weekend tourists and those selfsame drunks using their mailboxes to relieve themselves.

She walked through to her uncle’s office at the end of a long corridor and gave the doorjamb a knock on her way in. The big guy was looking more than a little unnerved, the few hairs on his head that had survived attrition in disarray and his facial expression frazzled.

“You gotta help us out here, honey,” he told her, rifling through his desk.

“Sure. What do you need?”

“Chase is heading into interview room number one to talk to one of the witnesses. Can you give him a hand? We need to get through all of them but we don’t want to keep them too long either, or else their moms and dads will get all worked up and give us hell.”

“How many have you got?”

“Heck if I know. Dozens, probably. That Dieber kid sure knows how to attract a crowd.”

“Yeah, for a singer who can’t sing he sure is popular, isn’t he?” she said with a grin.

He leveled a comical look at her from beneath bushy brows, then continued rifling through his desk.

“What are you looking for?”

“My glasses!” he cried, throwing up his hands. “I know I left them in here somewhere before I got called out to the radio station and now I can’t find the damned things! How the hell am I supposed to organize a bunch of interviews if I can’t even read my own notes?!”

She pointed at his head, where his glasses were perched. His eyes rolled up, then he placed his hands on his head, retrieved the glasses without a hitch, and put them on his nose with a grateful nod in her direction.“Thanks, honey. I’m a doofus and you’re a lifesaver.”

“Oh, Uncle Alec,” she said before leaving the office, “I asked Dad to install a pet door at my place. Could you give him a hand? Before he goes and destroys the house, I mean?”

Uncle Alec nodded.“I’ll see what I can do. And if you and Chase catch me this killer before he takes another shot at Dieber, I might even get to it sooner rather than later.”

She stepped out of her uncle’s office, leaving him to coordinate the investigation, and headed over to interview room number one, where Chase was already talking to a particularly nervous-looking girl who couldn’t have been older than fourteen. She was accompanied by her mother, who looked as uncomfortable being there as her daughter.

They all looked up when she walked in, and she gave them a smile that she hoped would put them at ease.“Hey there,” she said. “My name is Odelia Poole and I’ll be assisting Detective Kingsley with the interview if that’s all right with you guys.”

She darted a quick look at Chase, who gave her a curt nod.

“Miss Poole is a civilian consultant,” he explained. “She helps us out from time to time. Now what can you tell us about what happened this morning, Kayla? In your own time, and in your own words, please.”

Kayla’s mother turned to her daughter. “Just tell them what you saw so we can get out of here, honey.”

The girl looked like a deer in the headlights, her eyes swiveling from Chase to Odelia and back to her mother.“I saw Charlie. He was coming out of the building. We’d been waiting for what felt like hours—me and Janet. And my mom, of course,” she added softly, as if embarrassed that her mother would have been there, too.

“Who’s Janet?” asked Odelia. “Is she your friend?”

Kayla nodded. She was of slight build, with long dark hair and large brown eyes that now were wide and terrified. She was wringing her hands, and Odelia saw she had a temporary tattoo of a kitten on her wrist—a Bedieber thing. At least she hoped it was a temporary tattoo and not a permanent one, as she seemed kinda young to start inking up.

“Janet and I are Charlie’s biggest fans.”

“That’s an understatement,” said her mother, settling back in her chair. She was a large woman, with a perpetual frown that had cut a deep groove between her brows. It made her look annoyed and put out, even though she didn’t appear to be particularly unfriendly. Merely concerned, which wasunderstandable under the circumstances.

“When we heard Charlie was coming to town, I thought I’d die,” said Kayla. “We just had to see him. I barely slept last night, and we were out at the radio station three hours before he arrived.”

“I had to put my clock at five,” the mother explained. “And she still beat me to the bathroom. We arrived at six, and the fans were already three rows thick. Unbelievable.”

“Betterbediebe it,” Chase said with a smile, in an attempt to break the ice. The mother merely gave him another one of her dark scowls and Chase’s smile disappeared.

“So we saw Charlie arrive—in a white limo and surrounded by his bodyguards,” Kayla continued, scratching at her tattoo. “He waved at us, but he didn’t stop, like I’d hoped.”

“The least he could have done was sign a few autographs,” said her mother. “But no, he went straight from his limo to W-AWOL5 without breaking stride. Barely looked our way.”

“He had to be live on the air at nine, Mom,” said Kayla, defending her idol. “He didn’t have time to say hi. I’m sure that he’d planned to talk to us later, after his interview.”

“Yeah, and look how that worked out.”

“What happened when he came out of the building, Kayla?” asked Odelia gently.

The teen swallowed at the memory.“We all yelled for him to come over and say hi.”

“I yelled the loudest,” said her mother. “Not because I’m such a big fan of the dude, but my dogs were killing me and I was desperate to get out of there.”

“Your dogs?” asked Chase.

“My feet, detective. I had sore feet, okay?”

“I’m pretty sure he was going to come over and talk to us,” Kayla continued, “but then suddenly there was this loud bang, like an explosion, and when I looked over, Charlie was on the ground, his sunglasses all askew, and his bodyguards were all over him.”

“The kid looked scared shitless,” commented the mother.

“No, he didn’t,” Kayla said. “He was just worried about being shot.”

“Well, someone did just try to kill him,” Chase said.

“And then his bodyguards sort of shoved him into the limo and they drove off with tires squealing,” Kayla finished her story. “It all happened so fast I didn’t even know what was going on until later, when Janet told me someone had just tried to kill Charlie. If I’d known—”

“You wouldn’t have done a thing,” her mother said. “I wouldn’t have let you.”

Kayla gave her mother a defiant look.“I would have thrown myself in front of Charlie, Mom, and so would Janet. We would have saved him, just like that hero bodyguard did.”

The mother shook her head, as if to say,‘Kids.’

“Did you see who shot the bodyguard, Kayla?” asked Odelia.

“No, I didn’t. Like I said, it all happened real quick. And I was focused on Charlie. He looked so fine—just like in the pictures and on YouTube, only better, because he was really there. Like, for real and all.” She then gave Odelia a hopeful look. “I heard he’s staying in town—to prepare for his world tour. Do you know where he’s staying?”

“Um, I think at some compound near the beach?” said Odelia. “Though I’m sure he’ll be heavily guarded. Especially after what happened this morning.”

Kayla nodded, and Odelia could tell she was already making plans to stake out Charlie’s mansion, along with her friend Janet, hoping to catch another glimpse of the singer, and this time maybe even get her hands on that coveted autograph.

“Is there anything else you want to know?” asked Kayla’s mother, placing a protective arm around her daughter’s shoulder. “If not, I’d like to get out of here. I need to go to work, and Kayla needs to go to school.”

Kayla looked dismayed at the prospect.“Mom! I can’t go to school. Not after what happened. It’s like going back to school after-after-after President Kennedy was shot!”

“Trust me, honey, Charlie Dieber is no Kennedy. And besides, he’s not dead, is he?”

“But—”

“No buts. You already missed half a day of classes—I don’t want you to miss the rest, too. You’re going to school and you’re going to forget all about this terrible business. And so am I,” she added, her frown deepening as she spoke.

Outside the interview room, Chase and Odelia watched as Kayla and her mother walked away, still arguing about going to school or not. It was obvious that now that she’d been through such a life-changing event, the girl wasn’t ready to sit in school and learn about geography or math. She wanted to hang out at Charlie’s place with her friend instead.

“And?” asked Chase. “What do you think?”

“I’m thinking that these girls make lousy witnesses. They were all so focused on Charlie that they didn’t see anything else.”

“And I think you’re right,” said Chase, dragging his fingers through his curly brown hair. “But we’re still going to have to go through each and every witness report in hopes of finding something we can use.”

Just then, Uncle Alec walked up.“We’re collecting all the video and picture material from everyone who was outside that radio station. Can you start combing through it? I have to warn you though—it’s a lot. Looks like every single person waiting for the Dieber to come out had his or her smartphone up and was filming the whole thing.” He nodded at his niece. “Which is a good thing. We might get lucky, and nail this guy before he tries again.”

Chase and Odelia moved into one of the larger rooms near the back of the police station, where a technician had set up a computer and was busy downloading data from the dozens of phones and other devices confiscated from the witnesses being interviewed.

They both took a seat behind the computer and the techie showed them how to access the data. For the next two hours Odelia saw more footage of Charlie Dieber than she’d ever seen before. Unfortunately it was all the same scene, and at no point did the famous singer break out into song, or show them some of his smooth dance moves. All he did was bite the dust over and over again, looking like a kid who’d just crapped his pants.

Chase seemed to enjoy the look of pure terror on the singer’s face—Odelia did not.

“I think this must be his best performance yet,” Chase commented after they’d gone through the scene about a dozen times, each time shot from a different angle. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this got him the Oscar for best performance in a comedy.”

“Ha ha. Very funny, Chase. How would you react if someone tried to shoot you?”

“I’d definitely not look like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like a bunny rabbit about to be put down by the big, bad hunter.”

“I think you’re prejudiced. So maybe you should recuse yourself from this case.”

“Like hell I should. I’m not prejudiced. I just don’t care about the kid is all.”

“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t be on this case. Only someone who truly cares about Charlie Dieber will do their level best to bring his shooter to justice.”

“You mean someone like you.”

“That’s right.”

“Honey, if I can’t be on this case because I don’t like Charlie Dieber, neither can half the cops in this outfit. Mostly because we’re not thirteen-year-old girls with braces.”

“I’m not a thirteen-year-old girl,” she said defensively. “And I got rid of my braces a long time ago.”

He gave her a grin.“I would have loved to see you in braces. I’ll bet you looked cute as a button.”

“I think I still have them somewhere,” she said, her belly going slightly weak at his wolfish grin.

“Don’t tempt me. We still have a couple more hours of this stuff to go through.”

And so they had. Not that any of it was in any way helpful. None of the footage showed anything beyond Charlie hitting the deck, and being bundled into his stretch limo.

Chapter 6

We’d been scoping out the back alleys of Hampton Cove for what felt like hours—looking for Clarice in what I knew to be her usual haunts and hangouts. For some reason Clarice likes dumpsters. No idea why. I find them foul places where only death and decay lurk. Not to mention the odor they spreadis positively foul. But to each their own, I guess, and since Clarice likes dumpsters, that’s where we had to be if we wanted to find her.

“I’m tired, Max,” said Dooley after we’d tapped yet another dumpster and called out Clarice’s name in the faint hope of getting a response. “Maybe we can do this some other time?”

“We can’t do this some other time,” I told him. “Have you forgotten what’s at stake?”

He gave me a blank look, so I decided to remind him.

“If we don’t dislodge Diego from my home he’s going to extend me the same courtesy.”

He stared at me, clearly not comprehending.

“If we don’t kick him out, he’s going to kick me out!”

“Oh—right. Of course. Only, he won’t do that, will he? He may be bad, but he’s not bad to the bone.”

“He is, Dooley,” I assured my friend. “That catis bad to the bone.”

“Can you guys shut up already and give me a paw?” Brutus called out from the back of the alley. He’d been going from dumpster to dumpster, giving each one a hard rattle, calling out Clarice’s name all the while.

“I don’t think we’ll find Clarice, Max,” Dooley said, now really deciding to embrace his inner voice of gloom. “Remember she likes to hang out in the woods near the Writer’s Lodge? I’m sure she’s out there right now, being fed by some writer with writer’s block.”

Dooley was right. The first time we ever met Clarice was out in the woods, near Hetta Fried’s place. Hetta rents out a small cabin to writers and other creative desperados, eager to escape their busy lives and hone their craft surrounded by all of nature and woodland creatures like Clarice. And since these creative geniuses usually are the top of the cream and have money to burn, they treat their temporary feline companions very well indeed.

“Maybe you’re right,” I said. “Maybe we should expand our search to the lodge.”

“Of course I’m right. I’ll bet she’s curled up on the lap of Stephen King or Dan Brown or JK Rowling, being fed Cat Snax. She might even feature in one of their next books.”

“Wouldn’t that be great?” I asked, licking my paw and making a face when I realized I’d stepped into a piece of rotten fish.

“Wouldn’t what be great, Max?”

“To be the cat of a famous writer, and feature in their books?”

“And when they turn that book into a movie, to be asked to star as yourself in the Hollywood version,” Dooley said excitedly.

“I think I’d want to be in a Dan Brown book,” I said. “To be Professor Langdon’s feline sidekick. And then I could be in the movie with Tom Hanks.”

“I’d want to be in the sequel to the Hunger Games. Fight the forces of evil side by side with Jennifer Lawrence,” said Dooley, a dreamy look coming over his face.

“Or to be in a new Harry Potter movie!” I cried. “To be a shapeshifting cat, capable of amazing feats of witchcraft. And a chance to hang out with Emma Watson, of course.”

We both sat gazing into the middle distance for a moment, the roseate glow of our Hollywood careers lending me a momentary respite from the stark reality of my life.

“You know? Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea,” Dooley suddenly said. “I mean, since Odelia is going to kick you out and all, you’re going to want to find a new home anyway, Max. You could do worse than Tom Hanks or Emma Watson.”

I gave him my best scowl.“I’m not going to be kicked out, Dooley. Not if I can help it.”

“No, but I mean, Tom or Emma might adopt you after the shoot is over. But you’re going to have to work hard to ingratiate yourself. Really put in the time to win them over.”

I turned my back on him. This was not what I wanted to hear.

“You’ll have to show them Lovable Max, Max. Not Grumpy Max!” he called out.

“Oh, go away, Dooley,” I said, thumping my paw against a dumpster.

“That is not the way to make friends and influence people, Max.”

I snarled something under my breath. Dooley was right, though. If we didn’t find Clarice soon, I was doomed. Doomed to roam these back alleys and fend for myself and snack on rotten fish until I blew out my final breath. Not an agreeable prospect.

“Give us a smile, Max!” Dooley was shouting. “Show us those snappers!”

In response, I thumped the next dumpster extra hard, hoping against hope that Clarice would suddenly materialize, just like she had those previous times, and help us out.

“I don’t think she’s here, buddy,” said Brutus when I’d reached the end of the alley.

“She’s probably hanging out at the Writer’s Lodge,” I told him, and explained about Clarice’s habit to keep aspiring and accomplished artists alike company out at the Lodge.

“That’s a pretty long hike, Max,” he said. “I mean—I don’t mind going out there, but it’s going to take us the better part of the day.”

I was touched by this sudden display of selflessness on the part of my former nemesis.“You would do that for me, Brutus? Go all the way out to the woods to find Clarice?”

He frowned.“I’m not doing this for you, Max. I’m doing this for me. Or have you forgotten that Diego is moving in on my girl? If I don’t get that cat out of the picture, Harriet will never take me back. For some reason that cat’s got the fatal attraction thing nailed.”

“I think the fatal attraction thing involves a bunny,” said Dooley, who’d joined us.

I gave Brutus a cold stare.“And here I thought you were my friend,” I said.

“Iam your friend,” said Brutus. “I mean, I hated your guts before. Always thought you were too hoity-toity for my taste. But now that I’ve come to know you I’ve got to admit you’re a great cat to hang out with. But you’re not the only one with Diego issues, Max.”

“I don’t have Diego issues,” said Dooley. “But I want him gone anyway. Cause I don’t want Max to be kicked out of Odelia’s house.” He placed a paw on my shoulder. “You’re my friend, too, Max, and I don’t want you to go and live with Emma Watson or Tom Hanks.”

“Thanks, Dooley,” I said, my voice breaking a little. “And you, Brutus. This means a lot to me, you guys. It’s so great to have real friends who’ve got my back.”

“We’re in this together,” Brutus said earnestly. “And together is how we will succeed.”

Suddenly, the sound of applause startled us, and when we looked up we saw that none other than Diego was seated on the wall that dead-ended the alley, and was clapping his paws. The sound was muffled, for cat paws have cushions, which makes it hard for us to clap. Still, Diego managed just fine, and I could see his lips pucker into his customary sneer.

“I’m touched,” he said. “So much love and affection. It’s almost as if the seventies are back. Next you’ll want to be wearing flowers in your hair and talk about brotherly love.”

“What do you want?” Brutus growled, his face taking on a menacing scowl.

“Want? From you losers? Nothing. You provide me with a lot of entertainment, though. In fact you idiots are more fun to watch thanTheBig Bang Theory. For my money, Max is Leonard, Brutus is Howard, and Dooley is Raj. That only leaves Sheldon, but I think we can all agree that he’s too smart for a bunch of morons like yourselves.”

“And what about Penny?” asked Dooley, who seemed interested in this comparison.

“Great question,Raj,” said Diego musingly. “I’d like to say that Harriet is Penny, and I’m the one she’s decided to give her heart to.”

“So… who are you?” asked Dooley, a look of confusion stealing over his features.

“I’m the cat who’s canceling the show and launching his own spinoff.”

“Like… The Big Diego Theory?”

“I like that,” Diego admitted with an indulgent smirk. “Though I might go with The Diego and Harriet Show. Cause it’s gonna be Diego and Harriet doing the horizontal mambo every hour, on the hour.”

“Don’t even think about it,” grunted Brutus. “Your little show won’t even make it past the writing stage. The network will cancel you before you make it into production.”

“Me and Odelia, who’s the network executive in charge of greenlighting new shows, are this close,” he said, holding his claws an inch apart, “and she told me my show’s a go.”

I was having a hard time following the analogy, but I didn’t like what I was hearing. “Odelia told you… what, exactly?”

He shrugged.“Odelia is tired of you, Max. Oh, she liked you well enough in the beginning, but after seeing your ugly mug moping around the house all these years she’s in the market for something new. Something fresh and exciting.” He gestured at himself. “Moi.”

“I don’t believe you,” I said. “Odelia would never say something like that.”

“She would never say it to your face, Max, which is why she said it to me. She’s had it with you. She’s sick and tired of having some fat slob stalking her and she’s thinking hard about how to get rid of you so you’ll never come back.”

“She-she told you this?”

“Sure she did. And don’t even think about asking her about it. She’ll deny everything, of course.”

“He’s lying, Max,” said Brutus. “He’s full of crap. Just like he’s full of crap about the Diego and Harriet Show. Harriet would never star in a show with the likes of you, Diego. Harriet loves me.”

Diego laughed.“It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad.” He gave us a horrendously fake pout. “Poor Brutus. Dumped by his sweetheart. And soon dumped by his human, too.”

“My human would never dump me. Chase is crazy about me.”

“No, he’s not. And neither are Marge or Vesta. Or Tex for that matter. The Pooles are done with you three—yeah, you, too, Dooley. Out with the old—in with the new.” He shook his head and tsk-tsked. “If I were you, I’d do the honorable thing and leave now, with your dignity intact. Beats being kicked out and humiliated by the Pooles. Oh, and you don’t have to thank me for the heads-up. I believe in doing the right thing. That’s the kind of cat I am.”

“I’m going to get you for this,” Brutus said, holding up one paw, his claws extending menacingly.

“Wow, Wolverine!” said Diego, laughing. “You and whose army?”

“Clarice,” said Dooley. “She’s going to help us get rid of you.”

“Dooley, shut up!” I hissed. “She’s our secret weapon—emphasis onsecret.”

“Clarice is gone,” said Diego, casually giving his paw a lick.

“Gone?” I asked, and I could see the consternation on Brutus and Dooley’s faces.

“How can she be gone?” asked Dooley.

“He’s lying,” said Brutus. “Can’t you see he’s lying through his teeth?”

“Oh, no, I’m not,” said Diego, then fixed us with a nasty stare. “Why do you think I came back? I took care of Clarice. Payback for what she did to me. She’s gone, dudes. And she’s never coming back. I made sure of that.” And then he produced the most hideous laugh I’d ever heard. It chilled me to the bone. When I glanced up again—Poof!—he was gone.

Vaguely, I registered Dooley yelping and crying,“He vanished in a puff of smoke! He’s a demon!” I was too stunned to respond. Had Diego killed Clarice? It wasn’t possible. Or was it?

Chapter 7

Odelia rubbed her eyes. Staring at footage of Dieber dropping to the ground was not her idea of a fun time. When Chase chuckled, she opened her eyes again.“What’s so funny?”

“You! The Dieber fan can’t even watch a few hours of her idol without nodding off.”

“I can watch a few hours of Dieber singing—not the same footage over and over again of him dropping down on his patootie.” Though she had to admit he had a fine patootie. Not as fine as Chase’s, but definitely up there on the Billboard Patootie Top 100.

“I wonder,” said Chase musingly.

“Wonder what?”

“If he’s got a tattoo on his patootie, too. I mean, he’s got tattoos on every other body part, right?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she said dismissively. She wasn’t going to discuss Charlie’s tattoos with a non-fan.

“I’ll bet you do. I’ll bet you know every single tattoo the kid’s ever gotten, and you even know their exact significance.”

“And what if I do? What’s it to you?”

“Do you have tats?”

She cleared her throat and pointed at the screen.“Oh, look. Is that the killer?”

Chase laughed.“So you do. Where is it and can I see it?”

She rolled her eyes, then reluctantly got up, turned around and lifted her blouse, displaying a small tattoo on her lower back. It was a butterfly, drawn in blue and pink pastel.

“I like it,” he said finally, gently rubbing his finger along the butterfly. The touch of his hand sent shivers tickling up her spine, followed by a rush of heat, and suddenly she wished he’d put his hands on some of her other body parts. The ones that weren’t tattooed.

She quickly dropped her blouse before things got out of hand. There are places were getting out of hand is fine. Like her living room couch. Hampton Cove police station? No way.

“When did you get it?”

“When I was in college. A friend of mine was into tats, and she convinced me to try one. I have to admit I wasn’t entirely sober when I made the decision, but very happy that my lapse of judgment didn’t get me into greater trouble. And very grateful that that particular tattoo shop had a policy in place not to tattoo on visible places on the body like necks or hands or—gasp—the face.”

“Yeah, imagine having that butterfly tattooed on your forehead.”

“And what if I had?” she challenged.

He smiled.“I guess I’d have to get a matching one of my own.”

She was touched.“Aww. You’d do that for me?”

“I’d do that for me. Who doesn’t want a tattoo of a bug on their face?”

She slapped him on the shoulder, but then noticed something odd on the screen and frowned.“Isn’t that the guy who was shot?”

They watched as the shot rang out and Ray Cooper scrunched up his face. The burly protection agent stumbled backwards, knocking into one of his colleagues, before crumpling into a heap, desperately clutching at his chest.

“Finally,” said Chase. “Some footage of the actual shooting.”

They watched the video again, but as far as Odelia could see there was no trace of the gunman.“Was he shot at close range?”

“They’re still looking into that, but yeah, I think he was shot at fairly close range.”

“So the gunman should be in this clip.”

They watched the same footage a few more times, but if the gunman was in it, they couldn’t find him. At least they now had the incident on film. “I’ll send this to forensics,” said Chase. “Maybe they can see things we can’t. Enhance certain parts or apply some of that CSI mumbo-jumbo to establish a time frame and a blow-by-blow of what happened, exactly.”

Odelia nodded. She hoped he was right. With the kind of high-tech stuff that was available these days, maybe they could unearth things that were invisible at first glance.

There was a knock at the door, and Uncle Alec walked in, followed by a stern-faced man in a three-piece suit that looked like it might have cost a thousand bucks. A lawyer, she knew before Alec introduced the guy.

“This is Paul Seymour,” said the Chief. “Counselor Seymour works for Charlie Dieber. Detective Chase Kingsley, who’s in charge of the case. And Odelia Poole, civilian consultant.”

“Detective. Miss Poole,” said the lawyer. “I only have one question for you at this time. Have you identified the shooter?”

“Not yet,” said Chase. “But we’re working on it.”

The man’s lips tightened. This was not the message he wanted to hear. “Let me be clear. If you don’t find us a shooter we’re going to want to explore some other options.”

“What other options?” asked Odelia.

He jerked his head in her direction.“I’m sorry, who are you again?”

“Odelia Poole. I’m a civilian consultant.” She decided to keep the fact that she was also a reporter for the local newspaper under wraps for now.

He turned away from her, clearly not impressed.“Charlie has fans in high places. He’s proud to count the President among them. One phone call is all it takes to get the Feds out here and poring over this attempt on Charlie’s life.”

“The President?” asked Odelia. “You mean, like,the President?”

The man turned his penetrating gaze on her. She was pretty sure he could cut glass with it.“Is there another one?” He returned his attention to Chase, whom he seemed to have identified as the man in charge. “Make no mistake, Detective. Charlie wants results. If you can’t deliver him the shooter by this time tomorrow, he’ll make the call. Is that clear?”

“Let me tell you something, counselor,” said Chase, not the least bit intimidated by the lawyer’s tactics. “When we tried to talk to Charlie and his people this morning, they brushed us off. I can’t conduct this investigation without full access to both Charlie and his team. They’re witnesses and it’s important they give us their full cooperation. Do I have your word that you’ll get them to talk to me and talk freely?”

The lawyer nodded curtly.“I’ll advise them to give you full access. All the help you need.” He then stuck out his hand, gave Chase a brief handshake and stalked off without offering so much as a glance or a nod in either Odelia or Uncle Alec’s direction.

“Nice guy,” said Chase. “Warm personality.”

“Yeah, he’s a real charmer,” Uncle Alec agreed.

“Do you think he was bluffing?” asked Odelia. “Can he really get the Feds out here to take over the investigation?”

“Oh, I’m sure he wasn’t bluffing,” said Uncle Alec, rocking back on his heels. “So you better get me something, people. I don’t enjoy the prospect of being locked out of my own investigation in my own town. And I definitely don’t want to get in bad with the President.”

“I don’t want to get in bed with the President either,” Chase said cheerfully.

“Wiseguy,” Uncle Alec said, then wagged a finger in Chase’s face. “I don’t care how you do it, Kingsley, but I want results and I want them now, you hear?” He worried the few remaining hairs still desperately clinging to his scalp and sighed. “Or else we’re all sunk.”

Chapter 8

I have to admit that after our recent standoff with Diego in the alley, the three of us were feeling more than a little sandbagged. In fact it wouldn’t be too much to say we were feeling punch-drunk, as if Diego had put on a pair of boxing gloves and dealt us a glancing blow—a tough proposition when you’re a cat—and had knocked us KO in a single round.

As a consequence we were wandering around more or less aimlessly when suddenly a car screeched to a halt right in front of us, just as we were staggering across the road, and I realized we hadn’t even looked left or right and had almost been turned into roadkill.

A head emerged from the car window, and when I looked up with a degree of trepidation, I saw that the head belonged to none other than Odelia.

“Max! Dooley! Brutus! What are you guys doing here?!” she was saying.

I knew she said this because I saw her lips moving, though the meaning of her words only hit me with a delay of a few seconds, mainly because my first thought when I saw her was that she’d told Diego she was eager to get rid of me—tired of my sad sack stalking ways.

A second head appeared, this one poking out of the driver’s side of the vehicle, and I saw it belonged to Chase Kingsley, the hunky cop Odelia has been dating for a while now.

He, too, had a similar message to convey.“Brutus! Max! Dooley! What the heck?!”

Brutus, I could see, was struggling with the same reservations I was, for he hadn’t forgotten that his human, too, was eager to put him out to pasture and exchange him for the latest model of feline—Diego.

Dooley, in fact, was the only one who didn’t seem affected, as he sunnily announced, “We were looking for Clarice so she can help us get rid of Diego. But now that you guys are here, maybe you can help us out.”

Both Chase and Odelia were silent for a beat, then they simultaneously called out,“In the car! Now!”

Of course Chase could never have understood Dooley, as he wasn’t well-versed in the finer points of the feline language. He must have understood that we weren’t eager to stay out in the street, though, a fact for which I was grateful. Chase might not be a Poole, but by sheer association with the Poole clan he was clearly getting there—slowly but irrevocably.

So we hopped into the pickup and made ourselves comfortable in the backseat.

Chase stepped on the accelerator and soon we were digging our claws into the creased leather to keep from being smushed against the rear. Not that Chase would mind, I ventured, as his pickup is easily as aged and decrepit as Odelia’s.

I could tell from Odelia’s anxious glances back at the three of us that she was eager to have a heart-to-heart. Unfortunately most humans find it strange when other humans talk to felines, so she kept her mouth shut for now. And since neither Brutus nor I were eager to talk to the very humans who were ready to put us out with the trash, silence reigned for a long beat. Until Dooley, who evidently didn’t share our reservations, started singing like a canary.

“We just saw Diego in the back alley, and he told us you guys don’t like us anymore. That you told him you want to get rid of us and replace us with newer models. And that you think Max is a scroungy stalker and you’re sick and tired of his fat ass, and how Marge and Gran and Tex feel the same way about me and Brutus and so does Chase. Was he telling the truth, Odelia? He wasn’t, was he? He was lying through his razor-sharp teeth, wasn’t he?”

Odelia merely offered us a worried glance, but didn’t say a word.

Chase glanced back at us through the rearview mirror, and said,“You know? It almost sounds as if he’s talking to you, babe. I’ve never heard a cat babble as much as that one.”

“Dooley,” said Odelia. “His name is Dooley.”

“I knew that. Hey, Dooley,” he called out. “Talk some more, bud. You crack me up.”

Dooley didn’t need to be told twice. “Well, Diego has been charming Harriet, as usual, and Brutus doesn’t like it, and neither do I. And now we want to get rid of him, just like we did the last time, so we went and tried to find Clarice, who managed to kick Diego out of Hampton Cove before and might be convinced to do it again in exchange for a lifelong supply of Cat Snax. Only we couldn’t find her at her usual haunts and now we’re thinking she might be hanging out at the Writer’s Lodge, curled up on Dan Brown’s lap—or maybe even Stephen King’s or JK Rowling’s—and convincing them to feature her in their next book.”

“Dooley,” I said, finally finding my voice again. “Please shut up. Didn’t you hear what Diego said? Odelia is crazy about him. She won’t like it when we try to get rid of him.”

“Yeah, that stuff’s a secret, Dooley,” Brutus chimed in, defeating the purpose of the secret by blabbing it out to Odelia now.

My human took it all in with a shake of the head and a worried frown marring the smoothness of her brow. I could tell the conversation had rattled her.

“Hey. Now they’re all talking,” said Chase, still completely oblivious and liking it. “What do you think they want? Food? You think they’re hungry?”

“I think they want to tell us something,” said Odelia.

“Yeah—that much I understood. But what?” He glanced back at me. “You know? Wouldn’t it be fun if we could understand what they are saying? I read about some professor who’s developing a machine that would translate cat language into plain English. If he ever manages to get that thing operational I’m going to get me one of those. Talk to my cats.”

I wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to spend good money on some stupid machine. He just needed to talk to Odelia and she could tell him exactly what we were saying.

Soon we were leaving the town center, and for the first time I started to wonder where we were going. We were clearly not homeward bound. And when I saw Odelia’s expression of concern, I suddenly realized exactly where we were going: to the pound!

“You guys!” I hissed. “They’re taking us to the pound! Diego was right!”

“Oh, crap,” said Brutus. “I knew that creep wasn’t lying. We have to escape!”

“Odelia would never take us to the pound,” said Dooley. “Would she?”

“Where else could they be taking us?!” I cried.

We glanced up at the windows, but they were all rolled up. And when I tried the door handle, the stupid thing wouldn’t budge. We’d just have to escape the moment Chase stopped the car!

“We’ll escape into the woods,” Brutus said, already drawing up a plan of campaign. “If she’s still alive, we’ll simply join Clarice and ask her to teach us the ways of surviving in the wild.”

“I’ve never survived in the wild, you guys,” said Dooley. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Of course you can,” said Brutus. “It’s just a matter of… adjusting your taste.”

“No more Cat Snax,” I said, feeling even more dejected than before. “And no more of that delicious pat?.”

“Hey,” said Brutus. “Cheer up, Max. If Stephen King and Dan Brown and JK Rowling are really out there, I’m sure they’ll have some great snacks to dispense. Maybe they’ll even adopt us. Give us a life of unparalleled pampering and luxury. Pat? up the wazoo and maybe even a visit to the cat spa from time to time.”

“What’s the cat spa?” asked Dooley.

“It’s a place where cats go to relax,” Brutus explained. “I saw it on TV. They’ve got a playpen and a massage parlor and manicurists and hairstylists—the works. It’ll be fun.”

“But we won’t be together,” Dooley lamented.

“I don’t want to go and live with Dan Brown,” I said miserably. “I mean, I know I said before I wanted to star in a movie with Tom Hanks, but all I really want is to stay home with Odelia. Wake her up in the morning by sticking my nose into her armpit, help her with her articles, hang out in front of the TV and catch an episode ofThe Voice together…”

I was going to develop my theme further, but the car suddenly lurched off the road and came to a full stop in front of a large wooden gate, a man carrying what looked like a weapon of some kind giving us a penetrating scrutiny by sticking his head in the window.

“Hampton Cove PD, buddy,” Chase said, and showed the man his police badge.

The guy waved us through, and Chase took us along a long and winding driveway until a large house loomed up at the end of it, and he parked in the circular driveway, crushed gravel crunching underneath his tires.

“This is it, you guys!” I said. “Let’s make a run for it!”

“I don’t know,” said Brutus, studying the house. “It doesn’t look like a pound.”

“And how would you know what a pound looks like?”

“Well, not like this. Pounds usually look like the last place on earth you want to be seen in. This place? It looks like something the Kardashians would rent if they came to town.”

He was right. The house we’d arrived at was one of those large McMansions, with private pools and private Jacuzzis and private cinemas in the basement and stuff. We’d seen plenty of them in the course of our investigations and this one looked just like the others.

“We’re here,” said Odelia after Chase had exited the car and stood stretching. She then turned to us. “Look, I don’t know what Diego told you, but I have no intention of getting rid of you. When we get home I’m going to have a long talk with that cat. Secondly, I’m never going to takeyou guys to the pound. You’re my cats and you’ll always be my cats. Is that understood? Thirdly, we’re here because someone has tried to shoot Charlie Dieber this morning and we’re trying to figure out who did it. So do what you do best and mingle, all right? Try to talk to Dieber’s cats and dogs—of which I’m sure he’s got plenty—and find out what’s going on.” She shook her head as she shot us a look of gentle concern. “How could you possibly think I’d want to get rid of you? I love you guys so much.”

Without waiting for a reply, she quickly got out and allowed us to hop down to the ground before slamming the door shut.

Chapter 9

A sense of elation and warmth spread through my weary bones at Odelia’s little pep talk, and suddenly it was as if life returned to its full splendor. Once again the sun shone and the birds chirped and the cloud of doom and gloom that had hung over me like a pall lifted.

“I’m sorry for ever thinking you’d abandon me, Odelia,” I said as I fell into step beside my human.

“I would never abandon you, Max,” she said, but when Chase gave her an odd look, she clamped her lips together.

“You know?” he said. “I could swear that sometimes you can actually talk to those cats of yours. It’s the darndest thing.”

She laughed.“Talk to my cats? If only. I would love that.”

“Yeah. Me, too. Imagine the stuff they could tell us. For instance, they could talk to Dieber’s pets and tell us what the hell is going on. Find out if the Dieber’s got enemies—if people have made threats against his life and stuff.”

“Yeah. If Max and Dooley and Brutus could talk—imagine how they could help us.”

The three of us fell back.“We’re not being put out to pasture!” Brutus cried. Then he frowned. “I knew that cat was lying. He was trying to get into our heads. Psych us out!”

“Oh, he’s nasty,” I said. “Nasty and wily.”

“So he was lying?” asked Dooley.

“Yep!” said Brutus. “Our humans aren’t trying to get rid of us. Our humans love us! I’ll bet even that big lug Chase deeply cares—even though he can’t understand a meow we say.”

I felt as if I were suddenly walking on air, and as I filled my lungs to capacity, I said,“Let’s not disappoint Odelia. Let’s show her we’ve got her back—just like always.”

“What’s the mission?” asked Dooley. “Why are we here, exactly?”

“Someone is trying to kill Charlie Dieber and we need to find out who.”

“Who’s Charlie Dieber?”

“He’s that singer Odelia likes so much.”

Dooley thought for a moment, then his face lit up.“Oh, the one who sounds like a cricket with the flu.”

“That’s the one.”

While Chase and Odelia had walked up to the front of the house, the three of us had veered off course and were now making our way along a paved path to the back. When we arrived there, we found ourselves in a pool area, not unlike some of the other houses we’d visited in the course of our investigations. It reminded me of the house of John Paul George, the famous British pop star, and of the Kenspeckle place, the well-known reality show family. Just like at the Kenspeckles, a party was in full swing when we arrived at the back.

“Wow,” said Dooley, and I think he spoke for all of us.

Music pounded from the speakers as a few dozen people were lounging around the pool, several semi-naked young women playing some kind of ball game in the water and having a blast. People were drinking, laughing, dancing and generally whooping it up. And in the center of it all, I saw a heavily tattooed Charlie Dieber sucking from a very large bong.

“What’s that smell?” asked Dooley, sniffing the air. “Is that… barbecue?”

“Weed,” said Brutus. “Charlie doesn’t seem impressed with the attempt made on his life.”

“Or maybe this is his way of trying to deal with the shock,” I suggested.

Just then, Charlie shouted,“I’m coming, bitches!” and bombed into the pool, much to the amusement of the nubile girls, who quickly surrounded him like a personal harem.

“Yeah, he’s clearly having a hard time coping,” Brutus said. “We better spread out, you guys. Try to talk to some cats—and maybe even dogs.” A look of distaste came over him as he uttered these words. Dooley and I shared the look. No cat enjoys the prospect of having to deal with the canine species. Then again, if we were to help Odelia we needed to overcome our prejudices, cat up and ferret out information where it could be found. Even if it meant having to talk to Dieber’s pack of Chihuahuas or whatever foul species he favored.

So while Brutus headed towards the house, Dooley and I decided to check out the rest of the garden. And we hadn’t moved ten feet when suddenly we saw a familiar face.

“Isn’t that…” Dooley began.

“Clarice!” I yelled. “Yoo-hoo! Clarice!”

The feral cat was lounging on a lounge, casually licking her paws, and surveying the world with those dark eyes of hers.

“Clarice!” Dooley cried when we’d reached her. “You’re alive!”

She gave him a disdainful look, her upper lip curling into a snarl.“Of course I’m alive. Why wouldn’t I be alive?”

“Diego told us you were dead. He said that he ‘took care of you.’”

Her snarl tightened.“That nasty piece of work tell you that? And you believed him?”

“Well—I didn’t,” I told her. “I didn’t believe a word he said.”

Dooley stared at me.“You didn’t believe him?”

“Are you kidding me? I knew he was yanking our chain. Who can take out Clarice? No one! And definitely not some hustler like Diego.”

“I believed him,” said Dooley. “I thought he’d killed you, Clarice. I’m glad he didn’t.”

“I’m very hard to kill,” said Clarice, and I actually believed her.

I was so glad to see her I wanted to hug her, but of course I didn’t. Hugging Clarice is one of those things you do at your own peril.

Dooley obviously liked to live dangerously, for he actually moved in for a hug. When she held up a vicious claw and produced a loud hissing sound, he quickly backed off, but didn’t lose the wide grin that had appeared on his mug the moment we caught sight of her.

“You look good,” I told the formerly feral cat. And she did. Usually Clarice looks like she’s just been in a fight, with pieces of her mottled red fur missing and scratches across her scrawny face. One ear was still lopsided, and it was obvious someone had taken a bite out of the other one atsome point. But she looked well-fed and well-tempered, her fur shiny and healthy, her cheeks full and her whiskers polished to a shine.

“Yeah, I’m one of the Dieber Babes now,” she said casually, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

We both goggled at her.“Dieber Babes?” I repeated finally.

“What’s a Dieber Babe?” asked Dooley.

“Fancats,” she said. “Dieber likes cats—in fact he adores them. Collects them en masse. Calls them his Dieber Babes.”

“But how—when—why?” I asked, not quite coherently. I simply couldn’t imagine Clarice allowing herself to be domesticated. In fact it upset my worldview so thoroughly I suddenly felt as if I’d landed in an alternate reality. Like Neo discovering the Matrix.

Clarice shrugged.“I was hanging out at the Lodge, like I usually do, when Dieber showed up with his entourage. He needed a weekend to decompress after playing a grueling show, and decided the Lodge was the place to do it. His entourage left, and he stayed behind all by himself. And that’s when we struck up a firm friendship. I would keep him company as he contemplated fate and his place in the world, and he would feed me the best damn cat food I’ve ever tasted in my entire life. Actual raw steak, the most delicious fish filets you can imagine, prime ribs…” Her eyes softened. “I think for the firsttime in my life I was in love.”

“With the prime ribs?” asked Dooley.

“With a human, doofus. The guy has a way with cats. Never thought I’d ever feel that way about any human again but Charlie managed the impossible. When his retreat was over, he told me he wanted to adopt me, and I decided to let him.”

“But I thought you loved your life!” I said. “Roaming around—listening to no one. Carving your own path…”

“Yeah, that all sounds great until you’ve actually lived it. Trust me, it’s not much fun having to scrounge around for food all day long. Much easier to have some dude like Dieber provide it for you.” She darted a quick look at me. “I get you now, Max. I mean, I know I’ve made fun of you in the past. Calling you a pansy-assed namby-pamby yellow-belly sissy, but I can see the allure of living with a human who truly cares about you. It’s a pretty sweet deal.”

“A Dieber Babe,” I repeated. “I just—”

“What?” she asked, her eyes suddenly flashing darkly. “You gonna judge me? Huh?”

I quickly held up a peaceable paw.“Oh, no. Of course not. No judgments, Clarice. Uh-uh. I think you look great. Doesn’t she look great, Dooley?”

“You look amazing,” Dooley said.

Clarice smiled—the first time I’d ever seen her smile. “Thanks. I feel great. In fact I haven’t felt this great in ages.”

“Do you… still catch mice though, and enjoy the occasional rat?” I inquired.

She laughed.“Sure. When you’ve got your own private chef all you want to do is gobble up a few stinking rats.”

“You’ve got your own private chef?” asked Dooley, eyes wide.

“Nothing but the best is good enough for Dieber’s Babes,” she said with a grin.

I had to hand it to her. She’d struck gold. And I was happy for her. I really was. Then again… Did she still have what it took to get rid of a certain nasty feline intruder?

“We were actually looking for you, Clarice,” I said, deciding to get down to brass tacks. “Diego has been pestering us again, and I was wondering—”

“Well, talk of the devil,” Clarice said, darting a pointed look behind us.

Even before I’d turned around, Diego’s silky voice already rang out. “Well, who do we have here? Looks like the gang’s back together again. Clarice—always a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all yours,” she said with a menacing glance at the new arrival.

When I finally laid my eyes on Diego, I saw he wasn’t alone. “Harriet!” I cried. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, Max. Try to keep up,” said the pretty Persian with a flash of annoyance in her green eyes. “Diego and I were invited to join Dieber’s party. The real question is: what areyou doing here?”

“Odelia brought us here,” I said, raising my chin in a gesture of defiance.

“Not one of those silly murder investigations again,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “When is Odelia finally going to see that cats aren’t outfitted to play amateur sleuth?”

Her words were so outrageous I had a hard time coming up with a response.

“I thought you liked sleuthing, Harriet,” said Dooley, giving her a somber look.

“Oh, I liked it well enough when it was all fun and games, but now it’s turned into something much more sinister and I, for one, want nothing more to do with the dreadful business.” She brushed a whisker. “All that death and decay. It’s so depressing.” She batted her eyes at Diego. “Brutus is very much into all of that stuff. Good thing you’re not, Diego.”

Diego visibly shivered.“You’re absolutely right, babe. One shouldn’t get too mixed up in the affairs of men. Let them deal with their homicidal maniacal tendencies all by themselves. Us cats should rise above that terrible habit of slaying one’s brethren.”

“Well spoken, darling,” said Harriet. “You’re so smart.”

“And you’re so beautiful.”

“Oh, you’re too sweet.”

“Most beautiful babe ever. Yes, you are.”

“Ooh. Kissy kissy, darling.”

The cloying scene was too much for me, and I decided to remove myself before I threw up my breakfast. And as I was walking away, I saw to my surprise how Dieber himself approached, his eyes focused on but one thing: the white Persian we all knew as Harriet.

Chapter 10

It had taken some time for Odelia and Chase to be admitted to the house. Even though the security guard at the front gate had allowed them in, the one posted at the house had taken his time to study their credentials. It appeared as if he’d never seen a police badge before, and he’d even called Uncle Alec to check if Chase was a real cop or just some crazed fan trying to get close to the Dieber under false pretenses. When he’d started reading Chase’s badge number to Odelia’s uncle and giving him Chase’s description, thecop had finally had enough and threatened to arrest the guy on the spot for obstruction of justice.

That had done the trick, and they’d finally been allowed to proceed.

The vestibule was large and consisted of white marble walls, floors and even ceilings. It was the life-sized horse that dominated the entrance that made Odelia draw up short. She stared at the horse, which was white and rearing up on its hind legs. On top of the horse sat an equally life-sized Charlie Dieber, his arm raised as if he was about to invade some foreign nation, his eyes fixed on the horizon and his expression dead serious.

On the side of the horse a slogan had been sprayed, which read,‘Be Who You May Be – Charlie Dieber.’

“Charlie Dieber. Philosopher,” Chase murmured as he joined her. “It’s a side of him I’ve never seen before.”

“Well, he does write all of his own songs,” she said.

“Of course he does.”

They moved beyond Dieber the Conqueror and deeper into the house. To her surprise the place was pretty much empty. They passed through a spacious living room, where gigantic portraits on the walls announced, in case they still had doubts, that they’d entered the world of the Dieber. Six Warhol-type portraits adorned the space, each in a different bright color, and each depicting Dieber’s heavily-tattooed torso. Tattoos of dollar bills, snakes and even Indiana Jones’s famous fedora and whip covered every inch of skin.

Odelia gulped slightly. It was one thing to be a fan of this young man, but another to be confronted with this wealth of self-absorption and vanity. Then again, if you’re going to become a global pop star, a healthy dose of egomania probably comes with the territory.

“Where is everybody?” asked Chase as they sauntered through the living room.

“They’re probably in mourning,” said Odelia. “Or hunkered down in the basement bunker, trying to come up with a strategy on how to deal with this attack on Charlie’s life.”

They entered a large kitchen, and came upon a beehive of activity—three chefs cooking up a storm while servers came and went, carrying trays and silver platters.

More trays stood on the countertops, laden with hors-d’oeuvres and other amuse-bouches, while dozens of flutes were being filled with pink champagne by rattled-looking kitchen personnel, before being snapped up by the servers and carted outside.

Noise and music had them both turn in the direction of the window, and that’s when Odelia saw that a pool party was in full swing. Girls in bikinis were jumping into the pool and playing a game of water ball, while dozens of others stood rocking out to loud music.

“Um, what was that you said about Dieber being in mourning?” asked Chase.

She slowly hitched up the jaw that had dropped and stared at the scene. In light of the recent death of one of the pop star’s bodyguards, this all seemed very inappropriate and more than a little disrespectful. “Maybe this is the way he deals with loss?” she tried lamely.

“Yeah, right,” Chase grunted. He clearly wasn’t buying it, and frankly neither was she. “Let’s go outside and have a chat with our chief mourner,” he suggested.

They stepped out onto the deck, and mingled with the raving crowd. The music was loud and Odelia recognized it as part of a remix of Dieber songs by the world’s top DJs. She actually had the same compilation on her phone, and enjoyed listening to it at the gym.

Now she doubted if she’d ever be able to enjoy it in quite the same way again.

A freakishly muscular young man bumped up against her.“Hey, babe! Wanna get nekkid with me?”

“No, I don’t want to get ‘nekkid’ with you,” she snapped, and ignored Chase’s grin.

“Wanna do some blow? Snort some coke?” the guy asked, a strange gleam in his eyes. She recognized the gleam. He was clearly high on the stuff he was hawking.

Chase held up his badge.“Police. Get lost, buddy.”

In spite of his state of inebriation, the guy got the message and took a hike.

“Nice wake,” said Chase. “I’m sure the family of Ray Cooper will be thrilled.”

Odelia merely shook her head. And that’s when she spotted the man of the hour. Charlie Dieber was seated in a lounge next to the pool, stroking… “Harriet!”

“Huh?” Chase asked.

“Look—it’s my mom’s cat.”

He looked where she indicated, and muttered,“Well, I’ll be damned. It’s Diego.”

Diego had belonged to Chase’s mom, before she’d offloaded him on her son when her health didn’t allow her to take care of him herself. And since Chase was bunking with Uncle Alec, and was rarely home, he’d asked the Pooles to look after the orange cat.

Odelia hurried over, and saw that all her cats were present and accounted for: Brutus, Dooley, Max, Harriet and Diego. Even Clarice was there, the feral cat Max had befriended.

And she’d just joined Charlie when she heard him say, “I’m adopting you, beautiful.”

“No, you’re not,” she said, and snatched Harriet from the singer’s paws. “This is my cat,” she said. “Or at least my mother’s.”

Charlie gave her a grin.“Hey, babe. Wanna get nekkid and jump in the pool with me? I’ll bet you’re one hell of a swimmer.”

Chase took out his badge again and flashed it in the singer’s face. “Wanna get nekkid with me, douchebag? I know some great wrestling moves.”

Charlie held up his hands.“Chill, dude. I’m just trying to have some fun.”

“You’ve got a strange idea of fun—stealing someone else’s cat.”

“Hey, I wasn’t stealing anyone’s cat. I just like cats.” He smiled. “I like to call them my Dieber Babes.” He gave Clarice’s fur a stroke. “Isn’t that right, babe?”

Clarice emitted a soft purring sound that Odelia had never heard her produce before. She looked different, too. Less mangy.

“How much do you want for the Persian?” asked Charlie now. “I want her. And what the Dieber wants, the Dieber gets.”

“I’m going to have to disappoint you, Charlie,” Odelia said, becoming indignant now. “Harriet is not for sale.”

“She isn’t, huh? How about the orange one?”

“That’s my cat,” said Chase, “and he’s not for sale either.”

“Oh, he’s a he, huh? My bad. Yeah, I don’t do dudes, only babes.” Charlie darted a quick glance at Brutus and Dooley, but didn’t seem to deem them worthy of inclusion in his harem either. “So I guess it’s ‘peace, out’ from me then, suckers.” He held up his index and middle finger, kissed them and stalked off, moving in an awkward swaying motion. He was wearing his cap with the bill backwards, and baggy pants that showed a good deal of crack. Odelia shook her head. Suddenly she wasn’t so sure if she still wanted to be a Bedieber.

Chapter 11

Odelia and Chase finally sat down with Carlos Roulston, the person in charge of security. Roulston was easily twice the size of Chase, who was by no means a scrawny chicken himself. Roulston’s head was shaved in an intricate pattern that reminded Odelia of Egyptian hieroglyphs for some reason, and his skin was tanned to a tawny leather, his broad features stoic and unsmiling. Here sat a man who wouldn’t be trifled with, she felt.

“Terrible business,” the security professional intimated. “Ray was a great guy. Real team player.”

They were seated in the coolness of the security head’s office on the first floor. Like the man himself, the office was no-nonsense—just a desk, a couple of chairs, a small salon with coffee table and two couches, and a wall-mounted cabinet that may or may not have contained the small arsenal Charlie Dieber’s security detail presumably had at their disposal. What struck Odelia was that there were no pictures of Charlie anywhere in evidence.

“So what can you tell us about threats?” asked Chase, leaning forward. “Has anyone made any threats against Charlie’s life in the recent past?”

“Dozens. There’s a lot of nutcases out there, Detective, I don’t have to tell you that. The moment you become famous and people write about you, the crazies come out in droves.”

“You mean, like, letters, emails, social media, what?”

“All of the above.” He opened a desk drawer and took out a file folder and placed it on the desk. Odelia opened it and found herself looking at a pile an inch thick of letters, cards, napkins, beer coasters, pictures, screenshots… She picked out a few and read the scribbled messages. ‘You’re a dead man, Dweeber.’ ‘I’m coming for you, singer boy.’ ‘We all hate you.’ ‘You’re Satan’s spawn and Jesus will wipe you out in the coming apocalypse.’

Roulston cracked his knuckles.“Like I said. There’s a lot of crazies out there.”

“Anything that sticks out?” asked Chase. “Anyone in particular you think might have come after your employer?”

“If you’re asking me if anyone has called in and claimed responsibility for the attack, no, they haven’t. And frankly I don’t expect them to, either. This is some loner crackpot. A loner crackpot with a gun. Have your people determined the type of weapon that was used?”

“Colt Cobra,” said Chase.

Roulston frowned.“The .38 special. That’s a short-range weapon. I would have thought he was shot from a distance. Sniper style.”

“No, it would appear that the killer was fairly close. Ballistics places the shooter at no more than ten feet.”

Jefferson brushed his hand across his bristly buzzcut, a confused frown on his face.“Ten feet, huh? That means the shooter was in the crowd. For some reason I thought he was on the roof, scoping us out. Did you talk to the people closest to where Ray was shot?”

“We’re still interviewing people. We also confiscated their phones and have downloaded all digital imagery taken at the scene.”

“And?”

“So far nothing.”

“That’s weird. Someone must have seen something.”

“There were dozens of people present, Mr. Roulston,” said Odelia. “It’ll take us a little time to talk to all of them, and cross-reference the witness reports.”

There was a knock at the door, and four more people entered, three men and one woman.“I want to introduce you to my team,” said Roulston, getting up. “Team, this is Detective Chase Kingsley—in charge of the investigation—and Odelia Poole. She’s like the Rick Castle addition to the Hampton Cove Police Department if you will.”

“Only I’m not a writer,” Odelia quipped.

“Too bad. You could have worn one of those bulletproof vests with the word WRITER written across the front and back,” said Roulston. “I want you to meet Luca Elrott, Toby Mulvaney, Jason Nugent and Regan Lightbody. They were all part of the close protection team this morning. I had more people out there, but they were in charge of crowd control.”

Odelia and Chase turned their chairs around, while the foursome took a seat in the small salon. They looked downcast, which was a big difference to the hard-partying star they were all hired to protect. These people clearly cared about the man who had died.

“So what can you tell us about what happened this morning?” asked Chase.

Regan Lightbody shrugged. She was small but wiry and looked more impacted than her colleagues.“Ray was a great guy. He didn’t deserve this.” She glanced up, her amber eyes finding Odelia’s. “You’re going to find out anyway, so it’s better you hear this from me. Ray and I were an item. We’d been dating on and off ever since we began working for Charlie.” She darted a quick look at one of the other guards, who looked away.

Now Odelia understood why Regan seemed so crushed.“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said softly.

Regan nodded and wiped at her eyes.“He was a goof, no doubt about it, but the moment we were out there he got into the zone and was the consummate professional.”

“He was,” Roulston confirmed. “One of the best guys I ever worked with.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the others.“Yeah, Ray was a super guy. Fun to hang out with, and he always had your back,” said Toby, a red-haired guy with a ready smile. “We’re going to miss him.”

“Did any of you catch a glimpse of the killer?” asked Chase. When they all shook their heads, he added, “Anything unusual happen? Anything out of the ordinary?”

“The shot came completely out of the blue,” said Jason Nugent, a tough-looking guy with a busted nose and a sliced eyebrow. “The moment it happened we just bundled Charlie into the car and took off. I was in the car with him, so I didn’t see a thing.” He turned to Regan. “You stayed behind. Did you see anything?”

“Nothing. It’s almost as if this guy is a ghost. All I could see were those same teens that come out every time Charlie steps out—nothing that set off any alarm bells.”

“I didn’t see nothing, either,” said Luca in somber tones. “The thing is, when you enter this field you know that one day something like this might happen. You prepare for it, mentally and physically. But when it actually happens, like it did today? You realize nothing can prepare you.” His face hardened. “We lost a friend today—a comrade. So promise me one thing, all right? You catch this bastard. You catch the bastard that did this, you hear me?”

“We hear you loud and clear, Luca,” said Chase, nodding.

“We promise,” said Odelia, greatly touched. “We’ll find your friend’s killer.”

“Ray gave his life for the Dieber. The man’s a hero. He deserves to get justice.”

Chapter 12

The arrival of Diego and Harriet on the scene had dampened my initial excitement about seeing Clarice and really digging into this latest murder mystery. I’d been so eager to talk to Dieber’s cat menagerie but Diego had spoiled the fun for me. It almost appeared as if he was the kryptonite to my Superman. The mere sight of him simply deflated me and robbed me of any desire to get out there and figure out who might have it in for the Dieber.

So when Odelia stepped onto the deck and gave me a nod of the head, indicating it was time to go, I was actually glad. At least I’d asked Clarice to snoop around, to which she graciously agreed. If I couldn’t play Sherlock Holmes, I had a proxy who would do the honors.

On the ride back to the house, Chase’s car looked more like an animal control van, minus the partition and the atmosphere of fear. There was a lot of loathing, though.

“You’re a liar, Diego,” Brutus was saying. “A big, fat liar and now we know.”

“I wasn’t lying,” said Diego. “Merely easing you into a reality you’ll soon be facing. Odelia is sick and tired of you sticking to her like glue, Max. So you better be prepared.”

“No, she’s not,” I said. “Odelia told me so herself. She’ll never get rid of us. Never.”

“Duh. Of course she’s going tosay that,” said Diego, rolling his eyes. “She’s not going to risk you running away before she drops you off at the pound and collects her fat fee.”

I frowned at him.“What fat fee?”

He gave me an innocent look.“Oh, you didn’t know? They pay good money for old cats. In fact they pay by the pound, so Odelia stands to get quite a fortune for you, Max.”

I gasped, and cried,“Odelia! Diego says you’re going to sell me by the pound!”

But unfortunately Chase was behind the wheel again, his ears pricking up at the sound of us cats duking it out, so Odelia was forced to ignore my heart cry.

“How much will she get for me?” asked Dooley softly. “I mean, I’m small, so I’m bound to fetch a lot less than Max.”

“Yeah, it’s almost not worth dumping you,” said Diego with a dismissive glance at my friend. “And as for you, Brutus, these places pay a premium for aggressive and dangerous animals such as yourself, as they’re glad to be rid of them, so you should fetch a nice bonus.”

“You’re full of crap, Diego,” Brutus growled. “I don’t believe a word you say.”

“Ignore me at your peril,” said Diego. “But don’t come crying to me when they come for you. I’ll be the one sitting pretty with my lovely girlfriend by my side.”

Harriet, who’d been suspiciously quiet all through this conversation, now piped up. “Can’t you do anything to convince Odelia not to do this? I mean, Max and Dooley have been my friends since, like, forever, and Brutus has come to mean a great deal to me as well.”

“I don’t know if she’ll listen to me, babe. She’s got her heart set on getting rid of the riffraff and focusing on her true treasures from now on.”

“I can’t listen to this,” Brutus growled. “If you can’t see this cat for who he truly is, Harriet, there is no hope for you.”

“I’m trying to help you out here, Brutus,” she snapped. “The least you can do is show me some respect.”

“Respect! You threw me over for this oversized hairball and you want my respect?”

“I’ve earned it,” she said, her tail swishing defiantly. “I was your girlfriend for a long time, Brutus. And even though we parted as friends, that doesn’t mean you can talk trash about me. Furthermore, I want you to refer to me as Miss Poole from now. Only true friends call me Harriet, and judging from your recent comments you, sir, are no friend of mine.”

Brutus uttered a few choice curse words that no cat should ever employ, and Dooley covered his ears with his paws, visibly aghast at the level the cat had stooped to. This conversation was clearly getting out of hand and into the gutter. Which was why it was a good thing that we had finally arrived home, and Odelia opened the door to let us out.

We instantly tripped up to the house, all of our tails held high, as a deadly silence descended over our small troupe of five.

Once inside, I immediately set paw for my bowl. Ever since Diego had stolen my food last night, I’d been worried about my disappearing stash. To my relief, Odelia had filled my bowl to the brim, and I quickly set about devouring its contents with greedy gulps before Diego had a chance to gobble it all up again. And I’d reached the bottom of my bowl when I happened to glance over, and started when Tex appeared in the kitchen, dressed in coveralls and swinging a saw in one hand and a screwdriver in the other.

“And? What do you think?” he asked cheerfully.

I joined Odelia, Chase and the other cats to stare at the latest addition to the kitchen: a small panel that had been installed in the door.

“Wow, Dad,” said Odelia. “You’re a fast worker.”

“Idle hands are the devil’s workshop, honey.”

“Come on, Dooley. You be the first to try,” said Odelia.

“What is it?” asked Dooley, eyeing the panel with suspicion.

“It’s a pet door, you dummy,” said Diego. “Here. Let me show you chumps.” He took a running leap, and headed straight for the door! And to my great surprise, he didn’t smash into it, but ran straight through! The panel gave way, flapped out and then in again, and Diego was gone, before returning the same way he left.

“Oh, now I see what you mean,” said Dooley, and quickly followed suit. “Hey, I like this!” he exclaimed when he returned. And to demonstrate that he did, he proceeded to run three more times through the newly installed gizmo.

“Looks like a great fit, Dad,” said Odelia.

“Yeah, the little fellows seem to like it,” said Chase.

Harriet, quickly followed by Brutus, both passed through the door, and then it was my turn. With a happy smile, for I understood this meant I could come and go as I pleased and Odelia would save a ton on her heating bill, I headed for the pet door, stuck my head in and then… got stuck. For some reason my head went through fine, but my midsection didn’t.

“Um, you guys?” I called out. “A little help?”

I felt hands fingering my belly and I giggled. I’m ticklish that way. Then those same hands pressed into my belly and slowly eased me back inside. Finally I was free, and found three humans and four cats intently staring at me, then they all burst into laughter!

“Hey! What’s so funny?!” I cried. “Never seen a cat get stuck before?”

“No, actually I haven’t, Maxie, baby,” said Brutus, pretty much rolling on the floor, laughing. Diego, too, was howling with mirth, and so were Harriet and even Dooley, though he tried to spare my feelings by hiding his face behind his paws.

“Very funny,” I growled. I was blushing, though since I’m blorange, and covered in fur, I was pretty sure no one could see it.

“I think you’re going to have to make it bigger, Dad,” Odelia said finally.

“Yeah, better install an outsized pet door for an outsized cat,” Chase added.

Tex scratched his scalp.“I don’t think they have them in a larger size. I guess I’ll have to make the next one custom-sized.”

“I’ll give you a hand, Tex,” said Chase, clapping his future father-in-law on the back.

“Thanks, buddy,” said Tex, still looking slightly stunned. “I should probably have measured Max before I got started. My mistake.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dad,” said Odelia with a smile. “Max is a one-of-a-kind cat. He needs a one-of-a-kind pet door.”

I’m not sure what she meant by that, but judging from Diego’s knowing look it wasn’t good. ‘See?’ that look seemed to mean. ‘She’s going to get good money for you, Max. Paid by the pound… by the pound!’

Then again, if Odelia was going to sell me by the pound to the pound, why did she go to all the trouble of installing a pet door for me? I was going to have to thresh this thing out once and for all. The moment Diego was gone I was going to have a long heart-to-heart with my human. Was she or wasn’t she about to get rid of me? Inquiring minds needed to know!

Chapter 13

Odelia woke up in the middle of the night from a strange noise bleating away in the vicinity of her ear. For a moment she thought it was Max, whose breathing could get a little noisy from time to time, especially when he was having a bad dream. He would start to paw the air, as if running in his sleep. She’d asked Vena, her veterinarian, about it once and she said he was probably dreaming about chasing something or being chased himself.

The notion that cats could dream had been a new one for her, but it didn’t surprise her. In fact there wasn’t much about her cats that did surprise her these days. They were amazing creatures, and capable of so much more than most humans gave them credit for.

They were also very sensitive. As she was falling asleep earlier, Max had tripped up to her, carefully looking left and right, and had asked her if it was true that she intended to drop him off at the pound one of these days, and actually sell him by the pound. The idea was so outrageous that she’d laughed it off. But when he told her the story had been launched by Diego, it wasn’t all that funny anymore. It would appear that Diego had been feeding Max and the others a bunch of sensationalist stories, and scaring them witless in the process.

So she’d impressed it upon Max that she had no intention whatsoever to sell him to any pound, and vowed to have a long talk with Diego and tell him to stop this nonsense.

She reached out and took her phone from the nightstand and saw that it was Chase.

Picking up, she groggily muttered,“Mh?”

“Very eloquent, Poole,” Chase’s voice came. He sounded more awake than she was. “There’s been an incident at the Dieber place. Some lunatic placed a knife on Charlie’s pillow, and now he’s scared out of his feeble little mind and has been yelling for cops, cops, cops!”

“So? I’m not a cop. You go.”

“Outside. Five minutes. Oh, and Odelia?”

“Huh?”

“You sound sexy when you’re sleep-deprived.”

Five minutes later she was outside, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes, and watched Chase’s big pickup drive up, the engine rumbling pleasantly, the burly cop looking as fresh as a daisy. How did he do it? He gave her a big grin as he pushed open the door. She dropped into the seat and immediately leaned her head against the headrest and fell asleep.

A prod woke her up again.“Look alive, champ. We’ve arrived.”

She wrenched open her eyes and stretched her arms out as much as the cramped space in the cabin would allow.“So what’s this story about Dieber finding a knife?”

“Thatis the story. Dieber found a knife on his pillow.”

“So what’s the deal? Is it a threat? Was there a note? What?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out, babe.” He gave her a look of concern. “Are you sure you’re up for this? You look like you crawled out from under a steamroller.”

“Had a long talk with Max before nodding off,” she muttered before catching herself. “I mean—Max kept me awake half the night.”

“He probably wasn’t happy that he couldn’t fit through the pet door. Don’t worry. I’ll give your dad a hand tomorrow and we’ll fix it.”

She glanced over.“How come you’re so… chipper? What’s your secret?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders.“No secret. I tend to wake up at the drop of a hat ready to go. Always have.”

“You don’t feel like a zombie fresh from the grave?”

“Nope.”

“And you don’t need a gallon of coffee before you’re ready to start your quest for brains?”

“Nope. Though coffee would be welcome. I hope the Dieber got a fresh pot brewing.”

“You’re something else, Detective Kingsley.”

“Just your friendly neighborhood cop, always ready for duty, ma’am.”

They’d arrived at the gate to the Dieber compound, and the same guard who’d admitted them the day before was on duty. This time he recognized them, and waved them through without delay. Chase parked his rig in front of the house, and they trudged up to the front door. That is to say, Odelia trudged. Chase bounced athletically on limber legs.

Once inside, they were greeted by a scene of extreme pandemonium. No semi-naked girls prancing around in the pool this time, but guards and girls and staff members running around like headless chickens, and Charlie Dieber having a major freak-out in the living room—the one with the six Warhol-type portraits of his tatted-up torso.

“They’re trying to get me!” he was screaming. “But I won’t be gotten! Nobody can kill the Dieber. The Dieber is invincible. The Dieber is indestructible! The Dieber is bulletproof!”

“I hate it when they talk about themselves in the third person,” Chase said.

“Me, too,” she intimated.

The Dieber finally caught sight of the twosome and his face lit up.“Cops!” he cried. “I need cops, cops, cops!”

“Well, you got them, Charlie,” said Chase. “Now what’s all this about a knife?”

The Dieber dropped the vape he’d been sucking from into the hands of a plump woman dressed as a housekeeper, and stalked up to them. As usual, he was shirtless, wearing only Bermudas, and his bare feet slapped the marble floor. He tapped Chase’s chest with his finger, getting into the cop’s face. “Someone left a knife on my pillow. A frigging knife! So what are you going to do about it, huh? The Dieber could have died tonight!”

“I guess I’ll take a look at the knife,” Chase said with a tight smile.

The Dieber returned to pacing the living room, and Odelia didn’t know what was more unnerving, watching his Bermudas drop a little lower with every step and show a bare bottom that was as inked up as the rest of his body, or the fact that the killer had gotten so close to the star that he could have slit his throat if he wanted to.

Carlos Roulston was there, and so were the members of Charlie’s close protection team, and they escorted Odelia and Chase up a sweeping flight of stairs and into a bedroom that was easily as large as Odelia’s entire house. In fact it was safe to say Charlie’s bedroom was the size of a luxury suite and resembled one as well. The four-poster bed stood near the window, overlooking the ocean, and once again portraits of the pop star were the main decoration. The man was clearly in love with himself. There was also another white horse, rearing up with the Dieber seated on its back. Only this time the Dieber was in the nude.

She averted her gaze, suddenly feeling she’d already seen too much of the kid, and joined the guard detail around the singer’s bed, where the knife was still very much in evidence on the pillow, as indicated. Almost like a pillow chocolate, but with an edge.

“We talked to the housekeeper,” said Roulston. “She says that when the cleaners were in here there was no knife.”

“When was this?” asked Chase.

“This morning at ten, and again at ten tonight.”

“They come in twice a day?”

“Yup. Charlie is a neat freak. Wants fresh sheets put on his bed twice a day.”

“But… why?” asked Odelia.

Roulston shrugged.“Let’s just say this bed sees a lot of… action.”

“Oh.” She decided not to ask him to elaborate.

“So the knife must have been put here between the time the cleaners left and the time Charlie turned in for the night,” said Chase. “Which was… when, exactly?”

“According to Charlie he got up here at around three. Before that, he spent time in the private recording studio in the basement, working on his music. Then he went for a dip in the pool with some of his Bediebers—the girls who permanently live on-site—and when he got here with three of them—”

“He’s a horny little devil, isn’t he?” said Chase.

“He is blessed with a healthy libido,” Roulston admitted with a slight grin.

“So they got here, and then what?”

“Charlie saw the knife and freaked—screaming bloody murder. He’s been at it since.”

Odelia walked up to the bed and studied the knife. It was just your regular garden-variety kitchen knife. No note, no threatening words scribbled on the wall, no nothing.

“Interesting,” said Chase, scratching his scalp. “Any idea who could have done this?”

Roulston shook his head.“Must be one of the staff. The house is locked down at night, no one allowed in or out. I’ve got people guarding the perimeter, and I’ve hired more guards to make sure no one can get near the house or Charlie.”

“You’re saying this was an inside job.”

“Has to be. Whoever placed this knife was already on the premises.”

“One of Charlie’s girls, maybe? Jealous of one of the others?”

“We’ve talked to all of them. They don’t seem particularly attached to Charlie—simply happy for the opportunity to be close to a rich superstar and bask in the benefits.”

Chase nodded.“We’re going to want to talk to everyone on staff. Housekeepers, cleaners, drivers, chefs, servers, the pool boy—if you have a pool boy.”

“We have a pool girl,” Roulston said.

“Of course you do. I’ll call in some more colleagues, and we’ll start the interviews.”

And so it went down. Chase called Uncle Alec, who called more of his people, and for the next two hours they went through the full roster of Charlie Dieber’s staff, which was even more extensive than Odelia had imagined. The guy clearly believed in living the good life.

At least there was coffee. Plenty of coffee. And then she settled in for the duration and assisted Chase in interviewing the two dozen people who might have issued the threat.

Chapter 14

I was singing my heart out, and finally starting to feel like myself again. It was cat choir night, and I was flanked by Dooley and Brutus as I took my place in the choir and joined in the fun. Shanille, our principal conductor, was swinging her paws just so, and for a moment I forgot all my troubles as I belted out cat choir tunes with reckless abandon.

Cat choir gathers in Hampton Cove Park and is one of my favorite social gatherings. Practically every Hampton Cove cat is a member, and it’s the place to be in town once the sun goes down. All around us, night had fallen, which never bothers us one bit, since, as you may or may not know, the feline eyesight is a great deal superior to the human eyesight.

The only minor issue marring this wonderful time for us were the humans who live around the park and who enjoy yelling abuse at us. They obviously weren’t fans of music.

And we were just launching intoUptown Girl—Billy Joel is a local and a fan favorite—when two new arrivals disturbed my equanimity. They were none other than Harriet and… Diego.

Harriet had always been a member of cat choir, but hadn’t attended ever since she started seeing Diego. Probably since Diego had never been invited. Who would invite him? Not me, and definitely not Brutus or Dooley.

When our moving rendition of the Billy Joel hit was done—basically all of us screeching as hard and as loud as we could, and Shanille trying to impose a measure of harmony, Diego clapped his paws. “Beautiful!” he exclaimed. “Wonderful! Such talent!”

Shanille seemed touched.“Why, thank you, Diego. I’m so glad you could make it.”

“Wait, what?” I asked. “You invited this cat?”

“Of course I invited Diego,” said Shanille. “He’ll be a great admission to cat choir.”

“But… the first rule of cat choir is… you do not talk about cat choir!” said Brutus.

“Unless a rare talent like Diego turns up,” Shanille insisted.

The other cats murmured in agreement, and all around I could sense the mood shifting. They were all looking at Diego as if he was the second coming of Christ, and Brutus, Dooley and I were the Judases standing in the cat’s way. Even Shanille was giving us a look of disapproval. “Go easy on them, Shanille,” Diego said. “They’re good cats. Just… no talent.”

“What?!” I cried. I turned to Shanille. “You’re not listening to this nonsense, are you?”

“I’m sorry, Max. I talked this through with Diego, and I have to agree. The three of you lack the required talent to be in our choir. I always knew something was amiss, I just didn’t know what it was. It took Diego to figure out what was wrong with our sound. It’s you, Max. And Brutus and Dooley. You… well, I’m just going to say it—the three of you can’t sing.”

I gawked at the cat.“You can’t be serious.”

“What is she talking about, Max?” asked Dooley.

“She’s… kicking us out!”

“You can’t kick us out,” said Brutus. “I just became a member.”

“I’m afraid Diego is right. Cat choir should be a place for the enjoyment of music. Only cats with a musical bone in their bodies are welcome. And I’m afraid you three don’t have what it takes.” She sighed deeply. “It is with great regret, therefore, that I must ask you to leave.”

“You can’t do this,” I said. I pointed at Diego. “He’s evil!”

“This hurts me more than it hurts you, Max,” said Diego mournfully. “But we have to think of cat choir. I’m sure you’ll agree with me that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”

“Here, here,” one cat called out.

“Well spoken, Diego!” cried another.

“Diego is right,” said Shanille. “He will take your place, and I’m sure he’ll do great.”

“Bye-bye, Max,” said Diego. “And don’t feel bad. We can’t all be as talented as me.”

“I’m going to get you for this,” Brutus growled as he took a menacing step in Diego’s direction. “I swear to God—”

“No violence, please, gentlecats,” said Shanille, holding up a conciliating paw. “And no blasphemy. If you have any respect for cat choir, you will accept the decision of the majority.”

I turned to the others.“You don’t want us gone, do you? I’ve known you guys forever!”

But they all gave me a stony-faced look. It was clear Diego had gotten to them, too. And then Diego cried,“And just like I promised, Cat Snax for everyone! My treat!”

“You bought them with Cat Snax,” I said, now truly in shock. “You bribed them.”

“To celebrate the arrival of this exciting new talent, Diego has indeed agreed to dispense a little treat amongst the members,” said Shanille, lifting her chin. “No bribery involved whatsoever. Merely a small token of his appreciation.”

Harriet gave us a look of commiseration, but then turned away. It was obvious which side she’d chosen in this escalating cat war.

“Come on, Max,” said Brutus. “We’re not welcome here anymore.”

And as we stalked off, Dooley said,“I liked cat choir. I really did.”

“Me too, buddy,” I said. “In fact I loved it.”

“You know?” asked Brutus. “You and I had some issues when I first arrived in town, Max. But never like this. Never like Diego.”

“No, never like Diego,” I agreed. “That cat is pure evil.”

“We have to talk to Clarice,” said Dooley. “She’s the only one who can save us.”

“At least Odelia is not selling us to the pound, you guys,” I said as we left the park and convened on the sidewalk, under a streetlamp, for an impromptu crisis meeting.

“She’s not?” asked Dooley.

“Nope. I talked to her and she said it’s all rubbish. She would never sell us or get rid of us. Diego has been talking through his hat. It’s all lies. Filthy lies to get our backs up.”

“Unless he’s right and Odelia is lying,” said Dooley.

“Who’s the more likely liar?” asked Brutus. “Diego or Odelia?”

Dooley thought about this for a moment but finally gave up.“Is that a trick question?”

“Diego, of course!” Brutus cried. “Odelia wouldn’t lie to us. Would she, Max?”

“No, she would not,” I said, coming to my human’s defense. “She’s never let me down before, and she won’t now. She said she would talk to Diego, and I hope she does.”

“Fat lot of good that’ll do,” said Brutus, his skeptical nature shining through. “I mean, Diego is such a great con artist he’ll simply wrap her around his little finger again.” He pounded his paw with his other paw. “No, we need to fix this ourselves, you guys. Or, better yet,” he added, gesturing at Dooley, “talk to Clarice again. She will fix this for us.”

And so we set out to Charlie Dieber’s place again. It was a long hike, but since we didn’t have anything better to do, we accepted our fate with equanimity. The nocturnal trek soon soothed the bitter memory of Diego kicking us out of cat choir, and when we finally arrived at the large compound the Dieber occupied, the fresh ocean breeze and the relative quiet of the night had done its healing work and I was starting to feel a little better again.

We met Clarice out on the deck, where she sat gazing up at the full moon as it cast its pale light across the world. She looked forlorn, but that was probably just my imagination.

“Hey, Clarice,” I said by way of greeting. “Fancy meeting you here.”

She barely glanced up.“Oh, it’s you again.”

I would have hoped for a little more enthusiasm, but at least she didn’t kick us out.

We joined her, and Brutus said,“Great night, huh? The moon… the stars… the, um, trees…”

“Oh, cut the crap, Brutus,” she said. “What do you want?”

“We never finished that conversation about Diego,” said Brutus, not discouraged.

“We need to get rid of Diego again, Clarice,” I explained. “And we can’t do it alone. We need your help. You got rid of him so magnificently last time, and we wanted to ask you to do it again.”

“As a favor to us,” Brutus said. “Because that cat is making our lives a living hell.”

Clarice was still staring up at the moon.“I’d always wondered, you know,” she said softly.

“Wondered what?” I asked.

“What life would be like for a cat like you. Having a human who loves you—takes care of you—takes you to the vet to deworm you and all.”

I drew myself up to my full height.“I’ll have you know I’ve never had to be dewormed.”

“You know what I mean.” She sighed. “This place is such a madhouse. Two dozen cats living in the same house. Can you imagine? It’s driving me nuts. Out there in the woods I had my own space. Peace and quiet. No one to bother me. Here? Yackety-yackety-yackety-yack all day and all night long.” She shook her head. “I like the food, and I like Charlie, but his pack of cats is too much. This may sound crazy but I’m starting to think about getting out of here.”

“So what about Diego?” asked Dooley, never one to apply tact or diplomacy.

Clarice turned a pair of fierce eyes on Dooley and he visibly shrank into his fur.“Who do you think I am? Your personal bitch? I don’t take orders from no one, buster. Least of all some pampered little—” She caught herself and grimaced. “Oh, my. Who’s the pampered one now, huh? I guess the joke’s on me for calling you guys names all these years.”

“I’m sorry you feel this way, Clarice,” I said, shooting Dooley a cautionary look.

“Yeah, that makes two of us,” she said, returning her gaze to the moon, which for some reason she’d developed a fascination with. “Look, I’m not your mother. If you have some issue with Diego you’ll just have to handle it. You’re big cats. You don’t need me.”

“But Clarice!” Dooley cried. “He’s just kicked us out of cat choir!”

“Who cares about cat choir? Cats can’t sing. Everybody knows that.”

“We can sing just fine,” I said, feeling hurt. This was the second time in a single night that my singing abilities had been questioned and I wasn’t sure I liked it.

“Look, I took care of Diego once. I’m not doing it again. I’ve got no beef with that cat. So if you want to get rid of him you’re just going to have to cat up and do it yourselves.”

Just then, there was a commotion on the upstairs balcony, and to my great surprise I suddenly saw Odelia and Chase briefly appear, before returning indoors.

“Hey! What’s Odelia doing here?” I asked.

“Oh, some idiot left a knife on Charlie’s pillow,” said Clarice dismissively. “And now the whole house is in the throes of some great pandemonium. It’s one of the reasons I’m thinking about splitting. I can’t even think with all the noise and the drama.”

“Who put the knife there?” asked Dooley.

“One of the security guards,” said Clarice. “Luca something. He must have thought it was some big joke. But Charlie isn’t laughing, and neither am I, for that matter.”

“I’ll bet this Luca is real sorry now, huh?” asked Brutus.

“Nobody knows it was him,” said Clarice. “One of the cats told me. She saw Luca put the knife on Charlie’s pillow and then stalk off again. I would have told Charlie but unlike your human Charlie doesn’t understand us. Which is weird for a self-proclaimed cat lover.”

I slowly raised my eyes to the balcony. I had to tell Odelia. She probably didn’t have a clue about this Luca character placing the knife on Charlie’s pillow. It was a great scoop.

“Thanks, Clarice,” I said, and started towards the house.

“Hey! Where are you going?” asked Brutus.

“I have to talk to Odelia!” I called back.

“What about Diego?!”

“I’m sorry! Duty calls!”

“Cats,” I heard Clarice mutter. “Can’t live with them—can’t kill them.”

Chapter 15

Odelia rubbed her eyes. Sucking down three cups of coffee in a row that a friendly housekeeper had brought her wasn’t helping. They’d interviewed most of the household staff and all of the security personnel, and so far they had nothing. Bupkis. Nada.

No one had seen anything—no one knew anything. And Dieber was getting more and more antsy with every passing minute. Every few seconds he stuck his head in and asked if they’d found his killer yet. She would have liked to point out that in order for there to be a killer in the house he would have had to be killed first, but bit her tongue.

“This is getting us nowhere,” she told Chase when they’d interviewed an actual butler. The man had been hired to welcome the guests in case Charlie threw one of his parties, but since the incident the security team had taken over and introduced a more stringent vetting procedure and the man was essentially out of work. The fact that he was still on staff indicated Charlie either had way too much money to burn or was a true philanthropist. Odelia suspected the former.

“Someone must have seen something,” Chase insisted.

She decided she needed a break, and went in search of a bathroom. They’d conducted their interviews in one of the guest bedrooms, but the one they’d picked didn’t have an en-suite bathroom. And she’d just walked out of the facility, after having splashed some water on her face, when none other than Max came trotting up the white marble staircase, visibly out of breath, and yelling excitedly, “Odelia! I know! I know who did it!”

She crouched down, checked if no one was around, and asked,“What are you doing here?”

“Long story—no time,” he said between gasps. “The guy who planted the knife is called Luca and he’s a security guard. One of the cats saw him and told Clarice and Clarice told us, and now I’m telling you.” He took a deep breath. “Luca. Knife. He’s the killer, Odelia!”

She smiled and rubbed him behind the ear.“You did good, Max. I think you just might have solved the case.”

He gave her a pleading look.“So now can I stay? You’re not going to sell me to the pound?”

She groaned. This Diego was doing a real number on her cats.“I told you already, Max. I’m never going to sell you to anyone. You’re my cat and that’ll never change.”

She thought he actually smiled at this, though it was hard to be sure with all the hair.

“Thanks. Oh, and say hi to Chase from me.”

“For obvious reasons I won’t,” she said with a grin, getting up. “Oh, and if you want a treat, the cat food is laid out in the kitchen pantry. It’s being replenished twenty-four-seven, so I’m sure you’ll find what you need.”

“Thanks, Odelia,” he said a little breathlessly, and gave her a look of such adulation she had to laugh.

“Dig in,” she said. “You’ve earned it.” She hurried back to the bedroom where Chase was now staring out the window at the pool, its lights giving it an eerie glow. She stopped short of blurting out her exciting discovery when she realized she couldn’t tell him about Max. So how to handle this? She decided to play it cool.

He turned when he heard her approach.“So who’s next?” he asked.

She made a display of checking her notes.“Have we talked to Luca Elrott yet?”

He frowned.“Remind me. Who is he again?”

“We saw him in Roulston’s office. He’s part of Charlie’s protection detail.”

“Oh, right. I remember. Well, since Roulston talked to his people we can skip him.”

“I… I have a hunch, Chase,” she admitted. “I think we need to talk to the guy.”

He gave her a funny look.“A hunch, huh? By all means then, call him in.”

“Thanks,” she said gratefully. There had been a time when Chase would have made fun of her hunches, but after having worked more than a few cases together, he knew how valuable they were. So she got on the horn with Roulston, and conveyed her request.

Luca Elrott was a man with a concave face, as if someone had once hit him with a football and his face had never bounced back. He had a flat nose, and eyes set too close together. The effect was a little disconcerting, like watching a cartoon character come alive.

“Hi, Luca,” said Chase, taking a seat at their makeshift interview table—a nice vanity table with the mirror removed. “Come on in. We just got a couple of questions for you.”

“I answered all of Roulston’s questions,” said Luca, sitting down across from them.

“Yeah, well, we like to be thorough,” said Chase. “A very serious incident took place here tonight, and we need to figure out who’s responsible.”

“Of course. I understand, Detective.”

He didn’t look particularly at ease, Odelia thought, and wondered how she was going to make this man confess. She could hardly go with ‘The cat saw you!’

Why would Luca want to murder his employer? He had to have a motive. Maybe a monetary one? Or could he be working for some mysterious cabal that wanted Charlie dead?

She listened as Chase asked all the usual questions, and the guy answered them all without a hitch. Suddenly she had it. She knew how she could make him talk.

She cleared her throat.“You were seen, Luca.”

“Huh?” he said, shifting his eyes from Chase to her.

“When you planted that knife? Someone saw you.”

“Who?”

She smiled.“An innocent man wouldn’t ask who. He would cry out his innocence.”

He shifted in his seat.“Yeah, I mean I didn’t do it, so whoever saw me is lying.”

“No, they’re not. Why did you do it, Luca? Why did you try to kill Charlie?”

“Are you crazy? I just told you I didn’t do it!”

“Look, we’ve established that you did, so now all I need to hear from you is why.”

“But—”

“We can cut you a deal, Luca. If you tell us who you’re working for. If not, you’ll go away for a very long time for the murder of Ray Cooper.”

The man’s eyes went wide. “But I didn’t kill Ray! We were best buds! He got me this job—you can ask anyone. I’ve known Ray since high school. We played ball together.”

“All the more reason to tell us who paid you to take that shot,” said Chase. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, Luca. I’ve got the warrant for your arrest right here.” He patted a folded-up piece of paper on the vanity. It contained a blueprint of the house, but Luca didn’t need to know that. “All signed and ready to go. Judge wasn’t happy being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night, but when we showed him the witness statement he was more than willing to sign. So we know you did it. Now all we need to know is who paid you.”

Luca looked torn for a moment, then shook his head.“Look, I didn’t kill Ray, all right? I’m not lying. He was my best friend. It’s just that…”

“It’s just what?” asked Chase, shooting Odelia a look of surprise.

Luca exploded.“Charlie is such a knucklehead! Some idiot shot Ray and all he can think about is his next party? Jump in the pool with his Bediebers? Come on! Show some respect, dude! A good man just took a bullet for you, and you’re sucking on your bong and hitting the pool? I just wanted to teach him a lesson, you know. Make him sit up and think.”

“So… you didn’t kill Ray?” asked Odelia.

“Of course not! We were like brothers!”

“But you did place the knife,” said Chase.

“Yeah, I did. I just wanted to scare the douchebag a little. He’s such a prick.”

Odelia believed him, and so apparently did Chase, for he gave the man a stern look and said,“I understand why you did it, Luca, but your behavior is still intolerable for a man hired to protect and serve. You can see that, right?”

“It’s tough to protect and serve a man like Charlie Dieber, Detective. A man who deserves no respect whatsoever.”

“I get that. But you knew that going in. The least you could do is act like a professional.”

Odelia thought he was going to add,‘Dismissed,’ but instead he called in Roulston.

“So am I under arrest now?” asked Luca, gesturing at the ‘arrest warrant.’

“Nope. But I think it’s safe to say your services will no longer be required.”

“You know what? That’s actually a relief,” said Luca. He then gave Chase and Odelia a pleading look. “Please find Ray’s killer. He was a good man. He didn’t deserve to die.”

Chase clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder. “We will find his killer, Luca. You have my word on that.”

They watched as Roulston escorted him out. The moment the two men were gone, Chase turned to her.“How did you know he was the one?”

She shrugged.“Like I said. Just a hunch.”

“Just a hunch, huh? You’ve got some great hunches, Poole.”

“Thanks for trusting me, Chase,” she said, and she meant it.

“You know what your uncle told me when I first came to town?”

“No, what?”

“If my niece tells you something, you better listen.”

“Is that why you gave me such a hard time?”

He grinned.“I’ll admit, I was an idiot.”

“Yes, you were.”

“He was right, though. You’re something else, Odelia Poole.”

She placed her hands around his neck, and they shared a quick kiss.

They still hadn’t found Ray Cooper’s killer—in fact they were nowhere near solving this case—but somehow she had a hunch they were finally getting somewhere.

Chapter 16

Dooley, Brutus and I were on our way home, and when I told them about my little chat with Odelia, and how she’d assured me once more that she wasn’t secretly planning to get rid of us, they were happy as clams.

“See? I told you,” said Brutus. “Diego is a liar. That’s all there is to it. No way would Odelia or her folks ever kick us out. They adore cats! They love us!”

“I’m so glad,” said Dooley. “I feel so relieved. In fact I think I’m going to cry.”

I patted his little head.“It’s okay, Dooley. Let it all out, buddy. Don’t hold back.”

“Now all we need to figure out is how to dislodge Diego from the house,” said Brutus.

“And from cat choir,” I added. “I don’t take being kicked out of cat choir lightly.”

“We need to get that cat out of town, out of our lives, out of existence!” Brutus said.

“But how?” asked Dooley, sniffling and licking his nose. “Clarice won’t help us.”

“Yeah, that’s a serious setback,” Brutus agreed. “A very serious setback indeed.”

And we were so busy contemplating ways and means of getting rid of Diego that we didn’t even notice that a white stretch limousine had approached us from behind and had come to a full stop right next to us. The door opened, a hand stole out, and quickly grabbed me by the neck and hauled me inside! Next were Brutus and Dooley, and we found ourselves staring at none other than… Charlie Dieber!

He was smiling at us, sucking from a vape.“Hello, lovely ladies. Have we met?”

For a moment there I thought he could talk feline, but when I said,“Yeah, we met. You told me you don’t do dudes, dude—only babes.”

He grinned like an idiot, then had a fit of the giggles.“It’s almost as if you’re actually talking to me!” he said between two snorts.

“What is this guy smoking?” asked Brutus.

“I don’t know but it’s not nicotine,” I said.

“News flash, cats,” said the Dieber, having recovered slightly. He was now lying on his back, staring up at the limo ceiling, which, to my surprise, featured a large picture of Dieber’s face. Huh. “I’m going to adopt you,” he continued. “Add you to my squad. I think you three lovely ladies will fit right in. You,” he added, sticking a finger in my belly, “are a big fatty, and big fatties are usually not my style, but on you it looks kinda cute. And I dig it, girl!”

“Yeah, I dig you, too, buddy,” I said. “But here’s another news flash: I already belong to someone.”

“We all do,” said Brutus.

“Guys, I don’t think he speaks cat,” said Dooley.

“And he seems to think we’re female,” I said.

“Hey, driver!” the Dieber called out. “Plot a course for Dieber Castle, my faithful retainer!”

The driver glanced back, and when he saw the three of us did a double take. The car swerved across the road for a moment before he took control again.“Um, boss?”

“Speak now or forever hold your peace!” Charlie cried and giggled again.

“Those cats?”

“Real beauties, aren’t they? I love it when I can save a few strays.”

“They’re males, boss.”

“Good one, driver. You are a very funny individual.”

“For real, boss. I know cats, and those cats are definitely male. Just look at the faces.”

Charlie did his utmost to focus on my visage, blinking a few times in the process. He clearly had a hard time clearing the mist his suspicious vape had caused.“I like her face,” he said. “Good, strong features. Nice coloring, too. Orange.”

“Blorange,” I said.

“Nother face,his face,” the driver insisted. “Male cats have broader features than females, whose faces are more narrow. And look at the size of that cat. The sucker’s huge!”

“I know, right? And normally I don’t go for the chubby ones but there’s something about this one that holds a certain appeal to me. No idea why that would be the case.”

“And look at the black one. If that’s not a male I’m eating my hat, boss!”

“You mean the ugly one? I’m only taking him in cause I’m feeling charitable.” He stared at Brutus for a moment, then frowned. “You know? You might be right. I don’t get a feminine vibe from that one. If I didn’t know any better I’d swear he’s ready to pounce.”

“Oh, I’m ready to pounce, buster,” said Brutus. “Calling me ugly? I’m not ugly!”

“Yuck,” suddenly said Charlie, rearing back. Then he screamed, “Stop the car!”

The car lurched to a stop and we tumbled from our perch. Before I knew what was happening, I found myself whizzing through the air. The next moment I landed—on my paws, I might add—in a ditch. In spite of my perfectly executed landing, momentum carried me on, and finally I came to a full stop with my head in a patch of nettles. There was a soft thump, and something bumped into my rear. When I managed to extract my head from the nettles, I saw thatit was Dooley. Another bump, and Brutus crash-landed on top of the both of us.

I groaned as I listened to Charlie’s limo driving away with screeching tires, Charlie hollering over the noise, “No dudes, dudes! Only babes for Charlie!” Then he was gone.

“He kicked us out,” Brutus said, disentangling his limbs from ours with some effort. “The little dweeb actually kidnapped us and then kicked us out of his car.”

“I don’t think he likes male cats,” Dooley intimated as he checked if he was still in possession of all of his body parts.

“No, he does not,” I said. “Which is probably a good thing. Imagine having to live with two dozen cats and that maniac.”

“At least we’d be rid of Diego,” said Dooley. “Though I still prefer to live with the Pooles.”

“Yeah, me, too,” said Brutus. “Life with Charlie Dieber is way too stressful for me.”

We made our way out of the ditch—which fortunately for us was devoid of sludge or water—and climbed up to the road. We looked left and right, making sure the Dieber limo wasn’t about to run us over, and continued our long trek home.

“You know?” asked Dooley as we traversed a field. “Why didn’t we ask Odelia for a ride?”

Brutus and I shared a dumbfounded look. Dooley was right. Why hadn’t we thought of that? It would have saved us a long hike. Then again, this breath of fresh air was doing me a world of good. And as we walked on, laughing about our recent Dieber adventure, I suddenly started feeling happy for no particular reason. Maybe because in spite of Diego’s machinations the three of us still had each other’s backs. Cat choir might have thumbed its nose at us, but it had strengthened our bond. Now if only we could get rid of Diego…

Chapter 17

On their way home, Chase passed Brown’s Apothecary, the 24-hour pharmacy, and she said, “Just drop me off here, Chase. I just thought of something.”

“Another hunch, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“If you need aspirin, I’ve got some at home.”

“No, it’s nothing. I just need to pick something up for my cats.”

“All right,” he said. “You sure love those furballs of yours, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” she admitted. He pulled up to the curb and she got out.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked, leaning over.

“Um, pretty sure I’m not.”

“You’ve got a smudge on your nose, Poole. C’mere.”

She stuck her head back in, wondering where she could have smudged her nose, and when she was close enough he gave her nose a kiss.“There. That should take care of it.”

“I, um, I think I have another one… here,” she said, pointing at her upper lip.

He quickly pulled her into the cab and she laughed as he ravished her until they both had to come up for air.“Well, hasn’t this been fun?” he asked with a grin as she crawled from his lap and out of the car. “We should do this again sometime.”

“See you around, Chase.”

“Pick you up in the morning?”

“Sure thing. Though you’re going to need a cannon to wake me up.”

He drove off and she headed into the pharmacy. Max and Dooley had been looking so dispirited lately she thought they could use some extra vitamins. Max probably thought it was the beef he seemed to have with Diego, but she was pretty sure he simply needed some choice supplements. Or maybe she should change his diet? Max was a very picky eater.

She got the vitamins and walked out of the pharmacy, and she’d just set foot for home when a white stretch limo drew up next to her and Charlie Dieber opened the door.

He was only dressed in navy star-spangled boxers and looked much the worse for wear. Not the squeaky-clean pop star she’d become a fan of. “Hey, babe!” he called out from inside the limo. The pervasive sweet smell of marijuana assaulted her nostrils and she coughed. “Wanna party with the Dieber?”

“No, thank you,” she said with a disapproving frown. “And shouldn’t you be home?”

“Home’s for suckers,” he announced. “Besides, they keep trying to kill me, so home’s kinda dangerous right now. But I’ve got everything we need right here, babe. Just step into the Dieber Machine and the Dieber will give you a night you will never forget.”

She bent down so her eyes were level with the pop star’s. “I’m Odelia Poole, Charlie.”

He grinned lasciviously.“Nice to meet you, Odelia Poole. Lovely name for a sexy dame.”

“I’m working with the police to find the man who tried to shoot you this morning.”

“I’m liking you better and better. Why don’t you get in so you can tell me all about it?”

“She’s a cop, boss,” the driver called out. “You may want to rethink this.”

Charlie gulped.“A cop? She doesn’t look like a cop. Are cops usually this hot?”

“She’s a civilian consultant,” said the driver, who seemed to be well-informed.

“We met at the house this afternoon,” Odelia reminded him, a touch of pique in her voice. How could this idiot not recognize her? They met twice! “And again this evening? I was the one who discovered it was one of your bodyguards who put that knife on your pillow?”

“So you did!” he said, his face clearing. “Hey, you’re cleverand hot!”

She pressed her lips together.“Please be on your way, Charlie.” She would have said ‘Please get lost,’ but she was still working the man’s case, and didn’t want to be rude.

“Ouch.” He touched his bare chest. “You just broke the Dieber’s heart, babe.”

“Oh, for crying out loud,” she muttered, slammed the limo door shut and stalked off.

He rolled down his window.“Some other time, huh, babe? Can I have your number?”

Without turning back, she held up a hand. She would have raised her middle finger but the same principle still applied: never disrespect the subject of an ongoing investigation.

She couldn’t help wondering, though, if the world wouldn’t be a better place if Charlie Dieber had taken that bullet that morning instead of Ray Cooper. She reprimanded herself. Charlie might be a douchebag, but even douchebags didn’t deserve to die. Right?

Chapter 18

After a long trek, we finally made it back to Hampton Cove. We passed through the small marina, the streets pretty much deserted, as one would expect in the middle of the night, and that’s just the way we liked it. And we were about to head on home and sample some of that delicious kibble our humans like to put out when Brutus froze midstep, and stared straight ahead, like a pointer dog—which is odd, since Brutus doesn’t even like dogs.

“What’s wrong, Brutus?” asked Dooley, ever considerate.

“This is the end,” he breathed in a stertorous voice. “I’m throwing my hat in the ring.”

“But you don’t have a hat,” Dooley pointed out in an admirable display of logic.

“Look, fellas,” Brutus heaved. “Look over there.”

We looked over there, and that’s when we saw what had suddenly made him pant like a pointer. It was Diego and Harriet, seated on the roof of The Hungry Pipe, the popular restaurant that’s one of the marina’s draws. I could just make out their silhouettes as they were sitting, heads together, backlit by that same moon thathad fascinated Clarice so much.

“It’s our spot,” Brutus said, still sounding as if he’d swallowed a mosquito. “The spot I declared my everlasting love and devotion. The very spot I vowed to love and protect, to honor and cherish, to be all that I could be…” He heaved a soft sob, and for perhaps the first time since I’d made his acquaintance, I could see actual tears glisten in the tough cat’s eye.

“That’s not very nice,” said Dooley, in a massive understatement.

“He’s doing it on purpose,” Brutus said. “He knows how much this place means to me and he’s just rubbing my nose in it.”

It seemed a little far-fetched to think that Diego would know when Brutus would pass by The Hungry Pipe and see him and Harriet on the roof. The cat might be evil, but he was not clairvoyant. What had probably happened was that Harriet must have pointed the spot out as one she favored, and Diego decided to humor her and see what the big deal was.

The big deal is that Colin Carret, the Pipe’s proud owner and a perennial optimist, always overestimates the appeal of his place, and prepares more food than his clientele can ever tuck away. And since his kitchen happens to be on the top floor of the building, a lot of that food makes its way into his garbage bins, which are located on the roof before being transferred to the alley below via the kitchen elevator in the morning. Every cat in Hampton Cove knows that the Pipe is the place to be to get your paws on some high-quality grub.

I decided not to introduce this sordid materialistic theme into the conversation. Brutus was hit hard enough as it was. And as we watched, Diego and Harriet’s profiles retreated, and moments later we could see them descend the fire escape, reach street level, and stalk off in the direction of home and hearth, where presumably Diego would eat my food, drink my water, poop in my litter box and take my place at Odelia’s feet.

“I can’t go home,” Brutus announced brokenly, and staggered towards that same fire escape, and was soon mounting the steps, in the throes of a debilitating emotional crisis.

“We can’t leave him like this,” I told Dooley.

“Yeah, he doesn’t look very happy,” Dooley announced.

“You wouldn’t be happy if you were forced to watch the cat you loved canoodle with some other cat.”

“I’ve been watching Harriet canoodle with other cats all my life,” Dooley reminded me. “I think I’m a canoodling expert by now—at least where it concerns Harriet.”

He was right. Dooley had always nursed a quiet passion for Harriet—a passion which unfortunately had never been reciprocated by the haughty white Persian. “One day, Dooley,” I told him. “One day you’ll find the cat for you.”

“I already found the cat for me. She just hasn’t found me yet,” he said simply.

I never knew my best friend was a closet philosopher, and the upshot was that as I trotted after Dooley, who was trotting after Brutus, I had to wipe a tear from my eye, too. It was that moon. It was having a strange effect on all cats—even hardened ones like me.

“When are you going to fall in love, Max?” asked Dooley as we mounted the stairs.

“I’ve had my brushes with romance,” I told him.

“I know you’ve had your flings, Max, but when are you going to find true love?”

I shrugged.“I dunno, buddy. When true love finds me, I guess?”

“You are by far the most unromantic cat I’ve ever met.”

“I simply don’t like being tied down. I’m a free agent, Dooley.”

“You just haven’t found the right one yet, Max.”

I didn’t enjoy this conversation, so I decided to cut it short by ghosting my friend for the rest of the climb up the creaking, rusty contraption. The ladder was Colin’s fire escape and rarely used by humans except for couples to sit and pucker their lips for a smoke or a kiss or both. For cats, though, it was the main gateway into Colin’s culinary paradise, for it led straight to the spot on the roof where he liked to dump the Hungry Pipe’s tasty leftovers.

The scent that drifted down was intoxicating, and as usual about half a dozen cats could be found snacking on the premium morsels. When they saw us, they turned their heads. All of them were in cat choir and had refused to choose our side in our enduring conflict with Diego. In return, we ignored them. I must admit cats aren’t above being petty.

Brutus had dragged his weary bones to the spot where Diego and Harriet had been enjoying each other’s company, and Dooley and I watched him with a measure of concern.

“You don’t think he’s going to jump, do you?” asked Dooley.

“Cats don’t commit suicide,” I told him. “Only humans do.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“Because cats are too smart to hurl themselves off rooftops. Besides, we tend to land on our feet. And then there’s that whole nine lives thing to consider. We’d have to plunge to our deaths nine times before the jig is up, and who wants to go to all that trouble?”

“Maybe we should tell Brutus before he takes the plunge,” said Dooley.

“He’ll be fine. And the moment we drive Diego out of town he’ll be even better.”

“You think we’ll be able to drive Diego out of town?”

“We did it once, we can do it again,” I said with a conviction I wasn’t really feeling.

“Clarice did it once,” he reminded me. “And she’s refusing to do it twice.”

“So we’ll do it ourselves.”

“But how?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

We sat in silence, keeping a keen eye on Brutus, who clearly wanted to be alone at this point, and might have sat there for all eternity, if not a disembodied voice behind us had piped up.

“You were right,” the voice said.

When we turned, I saw that the disembodied voice belonged to Shanille. She looked as miserable as a cat can look without possessing the opposable thumbs to hold a liquor bottle.

“He kicked me out,” Shanille announced. “Diego kicked me out of cat choir, can you believe it? My own choir. The one I started. And he goes and tells me that from now on he’s the new conductor. Says I couldn’t conduct my way out of a paper bag. Basically calls me a talentless hack and a fraud. And the worst thing is that not a single member opposed him when he put it to a vote.”

“I told you. He’s pure evil,” I said. Though I should have felt sorry for her, the fact that she’d thrown us out on our ears still rankled.

“I’m so sorry, Shanille,” said Dooley commiseratingly. “I think you’re a great conductor.”

The tiger-striped tabby smiled weakly.“Thanks, Dooley. And I’m sorry for not listening to you before. You were right all along. I should have known better than to be taken in by his smooth-talking ways and his promises of endless supplies of Cat Snax.”

“Those endless supplies of Cat Snax are paid for by Odelia,” I told her. “Which makes him a liarand a thief.”

“Oh, and to think my week started so great. Saw my favorite singer Charlie Dieber from up close—got a wink and a smile from him…” A beatific smile momentarily crept up her face at the sweet memory.

“Wait—you were there when the Dieber got shot?”

“Charlie didn’t get shot,” she said. “His bodyguard did.”

A thrill of excitement rushed through me.“You saw what happened?”

“Of course I did. I saw the whole thing.”

And she’d just finished telling us about her startling discovery when the sound of a human talking had me look up. Somehow the inflection sounded familiar, so I padded to the edge of the roof and looked down. “Hey, it’s your human,” I announced. Dooley joined me.

“Hey, it’s Grandma,” he said.

“That’s what I just said.”

Odelia’s grandmother was walking down the street, in the middle of the night, talking on her phone for some reason. Odd. Very odd. Then again, this night had already proven to be the oddest night I’d had in a very long time. So Grandma Muffin roaming the streets of Hampton Cove at night was simply par for the course.

“Yes, Chancellor. No, Chancellor. Yes, Chancellor,” she was saying, her voice carrying up to where Dooley and I were sitting and watching. “No, I don’t think the current crisis can be solved with violence. Diplomacy is the solution, Chancellor Merkel. Oh, yes, I told Ban the same thing I’m telling you now. Yes, I will put in a good word for you. No big deal. Yes, I’m always at your service, Angela. Day or night. We all need to do what we can for world peace.”

She passed around a corner and her voice drifted off.

“Angela Merkel,” Dooley said musingly. “Somehow the name sounds familiar.”

“German Chancellor. Top European politician. But why Grandma would be talking to her beats me.”

“She’s been talking to a lot of important people lately. She even talked to the President the other day.”

“Our President?”

“I don’t know. Do cats have a president?”

He raised an interesting question. Did cats have a president? I didn’t think so. We’re anarchists by nature, apt to adhere to no one. Then again, we do like Abraham Lincoln, since he allegedly used a golden fork to feed his son’s tabby at White House dinners. I guess a guy like that is worthy of our everlasting allegiance.

Brutus seemed to have finally tired of sitting by himself, and wandered over.“You know? I’m starting to feel that maybe we should give Dieber a second shot at adopting us.”

“He won’t adopt us, Brutus,” I told the cat, who’d clearly lost his mind. “We’re males, and Charlie only adopts females.”

“So what if I tell him I identify as female?” Brutus suggested. “Wouldn’t that work?”

I wanted to ream him out for talking nonsense when there was a commotion behind us. The rickety fire escape was groaning and creaking violently, indicative of a large body climbing up. If this was a cat, it was a substantial one. Moments later, a head cleared the roof, and then a bare tattooed torso, and I saw that once again we were in the presence of Charlie Dieber.

“Hey, dudes and dudettes,” the irrepressible singer caroled. “Now this is what I call a fine gathering!” He looked a little unsteady on his feet, swaying dangerously, his eyes half-lidded. I hoped he wouldn’t come near the edge of the roof, for if he fell off and got squashed he wouldn’t get up again. No nine lives for the Dieber. He caught sight of us and frowned, pointing a finger in our general direction. “Dudes! We have got to stop meeting like this!” He lurched, then pivoted, his arm outstretched, until he was pointing, like a weathervane, at Shanille. He blinked a few times. “Um, so are you a dude or a dudette, dude?”

“I’m a dudette, actually,” said Shanille, whose exuberance had returned at the sight of her great idol.

“I think you’re a babe,” the Dieber announced, then did the most outrageous thing. He scooped Shanille up into his arms and started staggering back to the fire escape. “You’ve been adopted,” he announced to a slightly startled Shanille.

“Oh, that’s fine, Charlie,” she trilled.

“Shanille!” I cried. “Where are you going?”

“Didn’t you hear? I’ve been adopted by Charlie Dieber!”

“But… what about Father Reilly?” I asked, referring to her most recent human.

“He’ll just have to learn to live without me,” she said, and gave us a diva-like wave farewell. “Just like I’ll have to live without cat choir! Goodbye, cruel world! Goodbye!”

The three of us watched, stunned, as Charlie disappeared down the fire escape, this time clutching the former cat choir conductor in his arms.

“I didn’t know Shanille was such a drama queen,” said Dooley.

“It would appear Diego brings out the worst in cats,” I said.

“Charlie should have picked me,” Brutus lamented. “I should have told him about my transition.”

“Oh, stop talking nonsense, Brutus,” I said. “Cats don’t transition. Do they?”

“If it gets me out of the house I share with Harriet I’ll do whatever it takes, Max. Anything is better than having to feel this pain. This searing heartache. Thistristesse.”

Wow. Talk about drama queens.

“It’s the pain of lost love,” Dooley said knowingly, then placed a sympathetic paw on Brutus’s shoulder. “I feel your pain, brother Brutus.”

“Sister,” Brutus announced. “From now on I’m a dudette.”

Chapter 19

Odelia woke up from a loud noise. Since she’d spent half the night dealing with this Dieber knife business, it was a grumpy and decidedly annoyed Odelia Poole who opened first one tentative eye and then the other.

“What’s with the racket?” she muttered, and discovered that the foot of the bed hadn’t been slept on. “And where are my cats?” she added, suddenly thinking it ominous that neither Max nor Diego had come home that night.

Light was seeping through the curtains, and one intrepid sun ray had even had the gall of peeping through a split in the middle, where both curtains met, and was casting its bright and cheery light across Odelia’s face.

“Ugh,” she muttered, recoiling like a particularly timid vampire.

“Help!” a voice suddenly intruded her foggy thoughts. “Help me I’m stuck!”

Now she realized what noise had awakened her. It was Max, and he was in trouble!

“Max, I’m coming,” she croaked. With an extreme effort she swung her feet from beneath the Garfield-motif comforter, inserted them into her pink Hello Kitty slippers, managed to rise from the bed without tottering to the floor, and shuffled out of the room.

“Somebody help me!” Max was yelling. “I know who did it!”

The introduction of this new theme threw her. Stuck, she understood. He must have tried to get in through the pet door and gotten stuck. But he knew who did it? Knew who did what?

She cursed herself for not leaving the kitchen door open last night—she’d been so beat that the moment she let herself into the house she’d staggered up the stairs, dropped into the bed and had been asleep in seconds, without giving a single thought to poor Max.

“I’m coming!” she repeated, picking her way down the narrow stairs. Even under normal circumstances it was a tricky staircase to negotiate, and in her current state of sleep deprivation it was a downright safety hazard. She managed to reach the ground floor unscathed and speed-shuffled into the kitchen, where she was greeted with a piteous sight: Max’s head was inside the house, while the rest of his body was still outside.

“I can’t move,” he said when he caught sight of her. “I’m stuck, Odelia.”

“Oh, poor baby,” she said, kneeling down next to him. “I’ve asked my dad to fix this thing, and this time Chase is going to help him, so from now on you should be fine.”

She placed her hands on his neck, and tried to ease him in.

“I don’t think that’s gonna work,” Max said with a giggle. He’d always been ticklish.

“Just hang in there, baby. I’m going to get you out of this thing.”

She decided to reverse her technique and shove him out instead. So she pushed on his head, but that didn’t work either. He was really and truly stuck. “Huh,” she said, stumped.

She carefully opened the door and stepped out onto the paved deck, Max swinging with the door. Just as she’d surmised, the largest portion of the voluminous cat was sticking out, not unlike the iceberg that had sunk the Titanic. So now all she needed to do was get a firm grip on his body, and dislodge the rest of him.

“Can you breathe out for me?” she asked as she placed her hands on his trunk.

Max blew out a deep breath, she eased her fingers into his fur, and carefully pulled.

Dooley, who’d come walking up, stared at the scene. “This looks like a fun game,” he said. “Can I play, too?”

“This isn’t a game, Dooley,” said Odelia. “Max is stuck.”

“Oh.” He thought about this for a moment. “Why?”

“Because Dad screwed up and made the pet door a size too small.”

“Why did he do that?” asked Dooley.

“Can you stop asking stupid questions and just push my head?” Max burst out.

Dooley quickly trotted over.“Where do I push?”

“My head! Just push on my head while Odelia pulls my butt.”

“Can’t I pull your butt? I have a hunch I’d be great at butt-pulling.”

“Just do it already!”

“Right,” said Dooley dubiously. He clearly wasn’t fully on board with the plan. He did as he was told, though, by placing both paws on Max’s nose and pushing with all his might.

“Not the nose!” Max cried in a nasal tone.

Dooley, who was clearly not a professional cat pusher, adjusted his position and placed his paws on the top of Max’s head instead. The concerted effort of both cat and human finally yielded results, and soon Max popped from the pet door like a cork from a bottle. And as he sat on his haunches, panting slightly, he announced, “Have I got news for you, Odelia. Thank you, by the way, for getting me out of this hellhole.”

“It’s called a pet door, Max,” said Dooley. “Not a hellhole.”

Max gave his friend a dark look, then continued,“Oh, boy, did we have a night.”

“A night to remember,” said Dooley.

“Charlie Dieber tried to kidnap us, before his driver told him we were three males and then he kicked us out of his limo and into a ditch,” he began.

“And then we saw Diego and Harriet on the rooftop of The Hungry Pipe and Brutus had a meltdown,” Dooley added.

Max turned to him.“Are you going to tell the story, or am I?”

“You tell the story,” Dooley said graciously.

“Then we saw Gran talking to Angela Merkel, and Shanille being sad because Diego took her place as cat choir conductor, and—”

“And then Charlie Dieber showed up again and adopted Shanille!” Dooley cried with a laugh. “What a night!” When Max shot him a glare, he added, “Sorry. Please continue.”

Odelia frowned.“Grandma was talking to Angela Merkel? But why?”

“Giving her advice on world peace or something,” said Max, waving an impatient paw. “The thing is, before she got adopted by Dieber, Shanille said something.” He raised a whisker and paused for effect. “She was there when Dieber’s bodyguard was shot.”

“She saw who did it!” Dooley cried triumphantly.

“She saw who did it!” Max said, giving Dooley a nasty look. “It was—”

“—one of the other bodyguards!” Dooley caroled, at which point Max gave his shoulder a slap. Dooley returned the slap, and for a moment a lot of slapping ensued.

“Break it up, you guys,” said Odelia. When Max and Dooley were staring up at her, panting slightly from the exertion, she asked, “Can you repeat that last thing?”

“One of the bodyguards killed the other bodyguard,” said Max.

A trill of excitement shot through her.“Are you sure?”

“Yes, we are!” said Dooley. “Shanille is a big Dieber fan, so she had a front-row seat to his radio show thingy. She said one bodyguard approached the other bodyguard and spoke to him in a menacing tone of voice. There was some kind of scuffle and some shoving and then, suddenly, the bodyguard was shot! She saw everything because she was on the ground and had the dog perspective!”

“Frog perspective,” Max corrected.

Dooley frowned.“Yeah, I don’t get that.”

Her heart bouncing against her breastbone, she crouched down and took Dooley’s face in both hands. “This is very important, Dooley. What did the shooter look like?”

“Shanille didn’t say,” said Dooley.

“She did say he had the same color as me,” Max said.

“Oh, that’s right,” said Dooley. “Orange.”

“Blorange. I’m blorange. How many times do I have to repeat it?”

Just then, Brutus came trudging up, looking like something the cat dragged in. A different cat than himself, obviously, for cats can’t drag themselves in. “Blorange is not even a color, Max.”

“It is, too!” Max cried, cut to the quick.

In spite of her excitement about having solved the case—or, rather, of Shanille, Max and Dooley having solved the case, Odelia couldn’t help giving Brutus a worried look. “What happened to you, Brutus?”

“He broke his heart,” said Dooley knowingly.

“I had my heart broken,” Brutus corrected him.

“Oh. Diego and Harriet,” she said, understanding dawning. “I’m so sorry, Brutus.”

When you communicated with cats the way she did, you soon realized that their lives were a never-ending version ofThe Bold and the Beautiful. Or maybe evenThe Young and the Restless. Though neither soap opera could hold a candle to the drama cats could create.

“I’m going to put myself up for adoption,” Brutus announced somberly.

“But you can’t,” said Odelia. “This is your home now, Brutus.”

“I can’t share a home with Harriet and Diego,” said the cat morosely. “I’m going to elope to Charlie Dieber.”

“Charlie doesn’t adopt male cats, you know that, Brutus.”

“He’s going to have the transformation,” said Dooley.

“Transition,” Max corrected him.

Brutus gave her a wan smile.“From now on please call me Bruta.”

Chapter 20

Odelia parked her pickup in front of Uncle Alec’s house and got out. It was still early, and the street was pretty much deserted. But this couldn’t wait. So she walked up to the house, which was a modest row house in a street of similar houses, and rang the bell.

It took a long time before there was movement inside, but finally a bedraggled-looking Chase opened the door. He was dressed in boxers and a flannel shirt that was open and displaying his chiseled chest and stomach. She gulped slightly and had a hard time dragging her eyes away from his washboard tummy and up to his face again.

He gave her a lopsided grin and rubbed the stubble on his chin.“Hey, Poole. I thought you said I had to bring a cannon to wake you? And look at you now, up and about.”

“My cats woke me up,” she said.

“Tough luck. So you decided that if you were up, I should be up, too?”

“I, um… had another hunch, Chase.”

“Who is it?” a voice yelled in the background.

“It’s your niece! She says she’s got another hunch!”

Uncle Alec appeared, rubbing his eyes. He was also dressed in boxers and a checkered flannel shirt that was unbuttoned, only his revealed a sizable belly and a pair of impressive man boobs.“Odelia, honey, do you know what time it is?”

“No idea. All I know is that we need to go out to the Dieber place again. I think I know who did it.”

Chase grinned.“Isn’t she amazing? Keeps getting those hunches.”

“Yeah, she is,” said Uncle Alec, stifling a yawn. “So who did it?”

“Do you remember Toby Mulvaney? The red-headed guy?”

Chase frowned as he tried to recollect.“The security guy?”

“When Regan told us about her affair with Ray Cooper, she shot a quick glance at Mulvaney, and he looked away. I’ll bet there’s something going on between those two.”

“You seem to forget that whoever shot Ray was actually going after Dieber.”

“What if that’s not the case? What if Ray Cooper was the real target?”

Chase gave this some thought, and finally Uncle Alec clapped him on the shoulder.“Listen to Odelia, Chase. She’s always right.”

Chase nodded slowly.“So we’ve been looking in the wrong direction all this time? Is that what you’re saying?”

It wasn’t what she was saying—it was what her cats were saying, but she nodded. “Maybe we should talk to Toby. I have a feeling he might be able to tell us something.”

“You know what? Why don’t the two of you go out there and talk to what’s-his-face,” said Uncle Alec. “While I go over to Odelia’s and give Tex a hand with that pet door before he wrecks the damn thing.”

Odelia gave her uncle a grateful look, and he returned it with a wink. Unlike Chase, Uncle Alec knew all about the Poole gift of being able to talk to felines. He’d told her many times he wished he shared her facility. But unfortunately only Poole women had the gene.

Chase held up his hand, fingers spread.“Five minutes. Quick shower and I’m all yours.”

“All mine?” she asked with a cheeky grin.

He returned the grin, then pulled her in for a kiss.“All yours,” he repeated.

“Oh, boy,” said Uncle Alec, and watched Chase jog into the house, then up the stairs. Moments later, they could hear the shower running. “Max told you about Mulvaney?” he asked.

“He heard it from Shanille, Father Reilly’s tabby? She was there when Ray Cooper was shot. Saw the whole thing. Said it looked like this Mulvaney guy was picking a fight with Cooper, getting into his face. Moments later the shot was fired and Cooper was dead.”

“Those cats of yours are a godsend, Odelia. I just wish I could deputize them.”

“If you want to see your face on the front page of theNational Enquirer you should do just that,” she said with a laugh.

“If they solved this case, I’m giving them a medal. I swear to God.”

“And where are you going to pin it?”

He mussed up his hair.“Good question. Maybe I’ll buy them a toy instead.”

“Cat Snax. You can never go wrong with Cat Snax.”

“Imagine paying your best detectives in cat kibble.”

“Wouldn’t that be something?”

“Easy on the police budget, too.”

Chase came jogging down the stairs, now dressed in jeans and a fresh shirt, and they were off. His hair was damp, a lock dangling across his brow, and he smelled of musk and cologne. As they climbed into her pickup, the heady scent of manliness made her swoon.

“Are you all right?” Chase asked. “You look kinda feverish.”

She swallowed.“I’m fine.” And so was he.

It didn’t take her more than twenty minutes to make the drive to the Dieber place, and this time the guards greeted them like a couple of old friends. Inside, there was sheer pandemonium, as usual, only this time it wasn’t because of Charlie’s antics but because of a lack of Charlie.

“He didn’t come home last night!” Roulston screamed. Now he was the one pacing the living room. “No telephone call, no messages, no nothing! We have no idea where he is! He took off last night—after you guys caught Luca—and hasn’t been seen since!”

“He’s probably still driving around,” Odelia said. She told the security man about her run-in with Dieber. She also told him he’d been seen at The Hungry Pipe—though she refrained from mentioning the source of her information—and that another witness had told her Charlie was on some kind of crazy cat-collecting all-nighter.

Roulston dragged his hands across his stubbly head.“That kid is driving me nuts! Collecting cats, partying in the wake of an assassination attempt, leaving the safety of the compound to go on some joyride! He’s every security professional’s worst nightmare!”

“He’s with his driver,” I said. “I’m sure if you call him he’ll be able to tell you where they are.”

He walked off, taking out his phone and angrily jabbing it to life.

“How come you know so much about what the Dieber was up to last night?” asked Chase.

She gave him what she hoped was an enigmatic smile.“I have my sources.”

“So you have,” he said with a shake of the head.

They caught sight of Toby Mulvaney and joined him.

“Do you have a minute?” she asked the large red-headed man.

He gave her a curious look.“Sure. What do you want to know?”

They walked out of the living room, through sliding glass doors and onto the deck. The pool area was quiet this morning, Dieber’s Bediebers probably still sleeping. Several cats stalked about, stropping themselves against the lounges, while others lay around, blinking at the morning sun and generally being their lazy, perfectly contented feline selves. Odelia counted at least a dozen, with more probably inside enjoying ahearty breakfast.

“The thing is, a witness has come forward,” said Chase, once again lying his heart out. “This witness claims you got into a fight with Ray Cooper just before he got shot.”

Toby laughed.“Me? Get into a fight with Ray? Better send your witness to an eye doctor. Ray and I got along great.”

“Our witness is adamant, Toby,” said Odelia. “She saw you and Ray. Up close.”

Chase darted a curious look in her direction, and mouthed,‘She?’

She nodded and watched how Toby’s face fell. “This witness, who is she?”

“We can’t disclose her name,” said Chase. “But she’s ready to testify in court.”

His jaw worked, but he wasn’t talking. Odelia decided to try a different tack.

“Look, we know there’s something going on between you and Regan, Toby. Were you jealous of Ray? Is that why you shot him?”

“Shoot him! I didn’t shoot Ray. Did Regan tell you this? Is she the witness?” They merely stared at him, and finally he cracked. “Look, it’s true that Regan and I—we had a thing going on, okay? But then she fell for Ray and things got kinda… complicated. She’d broken up with me but there were still all those feelings, you know? I wanted her back, and she wasn’t sure which one of us to choose. And as long as I still had a shot—I mean,” he quickly amended, “a chance of getting back together with her, I definitely wasn’t saying no.”

“So she basically had a relationship with both you and Ray?” asked Chase.

“Yeah, basically that’s how it was. Now? I have no idea. She’s still pretty busted up about Ray getting shot—which I had nothing to do with, by the way. I may have given him a piece of my mind that morning, and that may have looked like I was threatening him, but I sure as hell didn’t shoot the guy.”

“But you hated his guts.”

“Yes, I did,” he admitted. “Same way he hated mine.”

“That must have been tough,” Odelia said.

“It was a living hell to have to work so closely together with Regan and Ray.”

“Can we take a look at your room?” asked Chase.

He emitted a hacking laugh.“Why? To find my gun? Go ahead. You won’t find one.”

“Because you got rid of it?”

“Because I never had it in the first place! I didn’t kill Ray, Detective. I swear.”

Just then, there was a commotion inside the house, and they all walked back in. To Odelia’s surprise, Charlie Dieber had arrived, and he’d come bearing gifts in the form of three cats: Shanille, Diego and Harriet!

Chapter 21

Charlie held Shanille in one arm with Harriet in the other. His driver was left with the task of holding onto Diego, who, judging from his expression, had preferred to be in Shanille’s place instead.

“Fresh felines! Three fine fresh felines!” Charlie was shouting, perhaps erroneously thinking he’d arrived at a farmers’ market. “Fresh female felines for the Dieber collection!”

“Don’t think this one’s a female, boss,” said the driver, darting an anxious glance at Diego. He clearly wasn’t as big a fan of cats as his employer was.

“Nonsense!” cried Charlie, who was dressed in low-riding khaki cargo pants and nothing else. Odelia thought she preferred the star-spangled boxers. “Three fine babes for the Dieber!” Then his eye fell on Odelia and Chase. “Oh, hi,” he said, stalking up. “Now aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He dropped the cats to the floor and held out his hand. “Charlie Dieber at your service, doll face. And aren’t you the prettiest, hottest, sweetest piece of—”

“We met,” Odelia cut him off. “Odelia Poole. I work with the police.”

Charlie narrowed his eyes at her.“Oh, right! The cop chick. Now I remember.”

“Hey,” Chase said, stepping between Odelia and the pop star. “Show some respect.”

The Dieber held up his hands in a defensive gesture.“I’m all about respect, dude. I respect the hell out of this hot piece of—”

“And for your information, those are my cats,” said Odelia, pointing at Harriet and Diego. “You can’t just steal people’s cats. And that is Shanille. She belongs to Father Reilly.”

He glanced down at Shanille.“Father Reilly, huh? I thought she looked a little austere. No ray of sunshine, that one.”

“So if you don’t mind, I’ll take these back, and I will ask you not to steal any more of Hampton Cove’s cats. You simply can’t do this, Charlie,” she said, really getting going now.

Charlie grinned at Chase.“She’s one hot pistol, isn’t she?”

Chase gave the singer a look that could kill. It didn’t seem to affect the kid in the slightest.

“I told you, boss,” the driver said. “You can’t go around taking cats that don’t belong to you.” He allowed Diego to leap from his arms and carefully started to pick at the mass of orange hair stuck to his driver’s costume. “Now look at that,” he muttered with an expression of distaste. “I’m gonna need one of them rollers. One of them sticky things.”

“Look, I’m on a mission from God,” the Dieber explained.

Odelia, who was thinking hard about removing her Charlie Dieber Spotify selection from her phone and canceling her fan club enrollment, heaved a soft groan.“Oh, God.”

“Exactly! I collect cats, feed them, nourish them, shower them with the Dieber’s love and affection, and then I gift them to my Bediebers. Why do you think I’ve got so many cats? I’m grooming them! They’re my gift to the world, babe! A blessing for everyone. Bediebers get to hold a littlepiece of the Dieber in their arms—something to show them my true appreciation. My cats find a wonderful home. And I get to spread sweetness and light!”

She folded her arms across her chest, giving him a stern look.“You’re going to give all these cats away?”

“From the Lord through me and into the world. I bless—you bless—bless you.”

“You’re telling me you steal cats from all over the place and then you foist them on some unsuspecting preteens?! You steal my cats and treat them as hand-me-downs?!”

He rubbed his hairless chest and giggled.“I wouldn’t put it that way, babe.”

A red mist drew up in front of her eyes.“HOW WOULD YOU PUT IT, THEN?!”

Chase, who saw she was about to throttle the Dieber, pulled her aside.“Please don’t kill him, babe,” he said. “He’s a moron. I know that. You know that. Heck, I think even he knows it. But if you kill him I’m gonna have to arrest you and that would break my heart.”

The red mist evaporated.“Arresting me would break your heart?”

“It would. So please calm down. We’ve got a murder to solve, and you going off on the Dieber isn’t helping.”

She threw up her hands.“It’s fine. It’s just that… the gall of the guy!”

“I know, I know. Deep breaths, babe. Deep breaths.”

“Aargh!”

“In. And out. That’s it.”

She took a steadying breath, fists planted on her hips.“Stealing my cats.”

“Well, technically Diego is my cat, Shanille is Father Reilly’s cat, and Harriet is your mother’s pride and joy.”

She turned, watching Charlie play with the latest additions to his cat menagerie. Harriet seemed to enjoy the attention, and so did Shanille. Diego? Not so much.

“Okay,” she said, closing her eyes. “Let’s pick up where we left off. Where’s Toby?”

They walked out of the living room and onto the deck, but the thickset bodyguard was gone. They returned inside, and mounted the stairs, then set foot for Roulston’s office, hoping to find Toby ensconced there. The only one present and accounted for was Roulston himself. He quirked an eyebrow at them. “You were right, Miss Poole. Turns out Charlie was having some fun last night, picking up cats left and right.”

“Stealing cats, you mean,” she said.

“Deep breaths,” Chase whispered.

She sucked in a few more breaths.

“Any idea where we can find Toby?” asked Chase. “We need to ask him a couple questions.”

Roulston heaved the sigh of a long-suffering security man.“What has he done?”

“He—” Odelia began, but Chase shut her up with a glance.

“We just need to have a word with him, if that’s all right with you,” he said.

“Last room on the right. And please tell him to get his act together.”

“Why is that?” asked Odelia.

“He’s been acting weird all morning. Cagey, if you know what I mean. And he and Regan aren’t on speaking terms for whatever reason.” He shook his head. “Place is falling apart. Catnapping pop stars, drama queen bodyguards, murder and mayhem…”

Odelia exchanged a look with Chase, and they went in search of Toby. They passed a room whose door was open and saw Regan lying on the bed, tossing a tennis ball at the wall and deftly catching it. She was frowning so hard and lost so deeply in thought she didn’t even notice Chase and Odelia looking in on her.

“Last room on the right,” Chase muttered. The door was closed, and he gave it a knock. Loud techno music was coming from inside the room, a pulsating beat that drowned out any other sound “Toby?!” he yelled. “We never finished that conversation, buddy!”

When no response came, except for the staccato thump of the speakers, he pushed down on the door handle. The door swung open, and the next moment Odelia clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream.

There, on the floor of the small room, lay Toby Mulvaney, his eyes open and staring unseeingly up at them. In his hand, a small-caliber gun. And in his temple, a nice round hole.

Chapter 22

Brutus, Dooley and I were watching as Tex and Uncle Alec worked on the pet door. It was a fascinating sight. Like watching a train wreck in slow motion. The two men had had some trouble removing the door from its hinges, but had finally managed to place it on top of a workbench Tex had dragged over from his garden shed. They’d hemmed and hawed for a while, scratching their heads and trying to decide how to do this thing, and had then both decided to take a break and had gone inside for a cup of coffee and a chocolate donut.

When they came out again, the door was still there, the pet door was still too small, and so they went straight back to dilly-dallying and drawing up a plan of campaign.

They kept darting furtive glances in my direction, and at one point Tex came over with a tape measure, wrapped it around my belly, then returned to the door and scratched his head some more.

“He’s measuring you for your coffin, Max,” said Brutus, who’d become very morbid since he’d begun his transition into Bruna. “Soon they’ll lay you to rest in the backyard.”

Dooley’s eyes went wide. “They’re going to bury Max? But why? Are you sick, Max? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“I’m not sick, I’m not dying, and nobody is going to bury me,” I assured him with a reproachful look at Brutus, who merely lifted his shoulders. “They’re simply trying to make the pet door fit to my particular… size.”

“Which is considerable,” Brutus commented nastily.

“Which is normal for the type of cat I am,” I corrected him haughtily.

“A fat cat.”

“A big-boned cat. I simply share more of my DNA with the big cats of the jungle than most,” I told him, reciting something I’d seen on the Discovery Channel. “Your tigers, your lions, your leopards, your jaguars…” I shrugged. “I guess you could say I’m part domestic cat, part memberofthe Panthera genus—the big cats that roam wild and free on the Serengeti.”

Brutus rolled his eyes. He was clearly not in the mood for a lesson in biology. Dooley was staring at me, though, clearly impressed.“Wow, Max. I never knew you were a tiger.”

“Yeah, well,” I said, flicking a speck of sawdust from my fur. “Scientia potential est. Knowledge is power.”

“Michael Jackson?”

“Francis Bacon.”

“Is he the one who invented bacon and eggs?”

“He could very well be, Dooley. He could very well be.”

Just then, Grandma came strolling through the hole in the hedge that divides our two gardens. She was frowning, and talking animatedly into her phone.“Of course, Mr. President. I know, Mr. President. You’re absolutely right, Mr. President. Yes, I’ll get on it right away, Mr. President. Yes, I agree with you that world peace is what we should all be striving for, but at what cost, Mr. President? At what cost?!”

She disappeared through the hedge again, and Uncle Alec directed a puzzled look at his brother-in-law.“Is she talking to the President?”

Tex sighed.“Yeah, looks like. I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately, but she’s been consulting with world leaders all week. Some guy called Ban Ki-moon, the Pope, of course, and now the President… She even talked to Bill Gates the other day.”

“But why? And how come they even listen to her?”

“Beats me, Alec. What I’ve learned over the years is to simply let Vesta be Vesta. If these world leaders want to take advice from your mother, they have my blessing.”

“And mine,” said Alec, looking slightly taken aback. It’s not every day that your mother becomes the go-to person for the top leaders of the world.

Just then, my cat ears pricked up, and so did Dooley’s and Brutus’s. We exchanged a look of understanding, and simultaneously said, “Odelia!”

Then Brutus sniffed, and his face lit up.“And Harriet!”

Moments later, Odelia came walking through the kitchen door opening—now without door—and smiled when she saw her dad and uncle hard at work—or at least thinking hard about work. “Hey, you guys. Am I glad to see you.”

In her arms she was holding Harriet, who meowed plaintively, and only relaxed when Odelia had placed her on the ground. Immediately Brutus ran up to her.“Harriet, I…”

She gave him a supercilious look.“Please don’t talk to me, Brutus.”

I would have told her it was Bruta now, but I had the impression Brutus had had another change of heart, and had decided to give Harriet another shot at breaking it.

“Where’s Diego?” asked Brutus.

“At Charlie Dieber’s house.”

“What?!” Brutus cried. “But… how?”

Harriet, who looked troubled, shook her beautiful white fluffy head.“Charlie grabbed me and Diego off the street early this morning. Told us he was adopting us. We decided to play along—just for the fun of it. But then Odelia showed up and blew a gasket. She took me and Shanille and wanted to take Diego, too, but by then he’d disappeared.”

“Disappeared,” repeated Brutus, looking like a cat who’s seen Jesus.

“Yeah. He told me he was going for a bite to eat—the Dieber offers a nice spread of cat treats—but when Odelia went looking he wasn’t in the kitchen. He must have slunk off.”

“Slunk off,” Brutus said, rolling the words around his tongue with relish. “Gone.”

Harriet cut him a nasty glance.“Don’t say it as if it’s the best thing that ever happened to you, Brutus. I like that cat. I miss him.”

Brutus grinned.“Trust me, sugar plum. You’re better off without him.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Diego knows how to treat a girl. He’s… gentle.”

Brutus’s smile vanished. “Please don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

“Oh, leave me alone,” she said irritably, and stalked off in the direction of the hedge.

“I’m not leaving you, Harriet,” said Brutus decidedly, as he trotted after her.

“Can’t you see I’m in mourning?”

“You’re in mourning?I’m in mourning!”

“I’m pining, Brutus. Pining for Diego.”

“And I’m pining for you, sweetcheeks!”

We watched them disappear into the next garden, arguing all the while.

“Good news about the disappearance of Diego,” Dooley said.

“Yeah, great news,” I agreed. “Let’s hope he stays away this time.”

“Not so great, you guys,” said Odelia, who’d been listening while her dad and uncle messed with the door.

“Diego vanishing into thin air is the best news I’ve ever heard,” I told her decidedly.

“Not that. Another bodyguard died. Shot to death in his room. The bodyguard Shanille thought killed Ray Cooper. Looks like suicide but…” She grimaced. “I’m not sure.”

“Oh,” I said, my exuberance waning. Rejoicing in the face of tragedy just wasn’t right. “You’re right. That is pretty bad. So you think he didn’t do it?”

“Like I said, I’m not sure. He told us he didn’t kill Ray, and I actually believed him, so…” She frowned. “The thing is, he was involved with Regan. They both were, Ray and Toby. Like a love triangle thing? Chase believes in the suicide theory, though. He’s closed the case.”

She was talking more to herself than to us, I saw. Humans often do that. They talk to themselves on the street, in the shower, in the car, thinking nobody can hear them. It’s a peculiar habit. Then again, I think we can all agree humans are a peculiar breed.

“You want us to talk to Shanille again?” I asked. “Dig a little deeper?”

She looked up.“Mh? Oh, no. That’s not necessary. Before I dropped her off at Father Reilly’s I asked her to repeat to me what she told you. She said she couldn’t be sure Toby actually shot Ray. All she saw was this strange exchange between them—which is understandable in the context of a quarrel between two love rivals. Which reminds me…”

She took a small pill bottle from her pocket and popped the top. I gave it a suspicious look. I don’t like pills. They usually taste horrible and tend to give me a nasty rash.

“What is that, Odelia?” asked Dooley.

“Vitamins,” she said as shook two sizable pills into the palm of her hand. “Now are you going to swallow them like big boys or do you want me to mix them into your food?”

“Vitamins?” asked Dooley. “What’s a vitamins?”

“They’re good for you,” she said. “They will give you more energy.”

“I’ve got plenty of energy,” I told her. “I don’t need vitamins.”

“I think I’ll take one,” said Dooley. “I like energy. Energy is good.”

She smiled and placed a pill on his raspy pink tongue. He squeezed his eyes shut and dry-swallowed it, then gave her a look of triumph. She patted his head.“Well done, Dooley. You’re a real champ.” Then she turned to me and held up the second pill. “Your turn, Max.”

I made a face, and Dooley said,“Max likes to roam wild and free on the Serengeti. He probably doesn’t need a vitamins.”

“Vitamin,” she corrected him. “Plural: vitamins. So you’re a tiger now, huh, Max?”

“And he likes bacon,” Dooley added.

She grinned.“A real tiger wouldn’t mind swallowing down a little pill.”

“Oh, all right,” I muttered, and opened my mouth wide. The things I do for my human…

Chapter 23

After Odelia had watched her father and her uncle Alec work on her kitchen door for a while, she felt compelled to remove herself from the scene. By then it was clear to her that her door was not going to survive the efforts of two men who gave the handymen of this world a bad name. They’d begun by shaving off a small sliver of door, in a bid to make the pet door fit Max’s outsized frame. Happy with the result, they’d decided to remove another bit of door, and had soon become addicted to the process. Now, at last count, it would appear they were moving steadily through the door like a pair of beavers chewing down a tree. At the rate they were going, soon there would be nothing left but a pile of sawdust.

She couldn’t watch anymore, and retreated to the house next door, entering the kitchen to find her mother baking a cake. Marge looked up when her daughter entered the house. Her button of a nose was covered in flour, and her hair was covered with a wrap.

“Oh, hey, honey. Did they finish your door already?”

“Oh, yes, they finished my door,” she said with a hollow laugh. “Finished it off. I just hope they won’t start hacking away at the rest of the house as well. Cause if they do, I might be forced to move in with you.” She sat musingly for a spell. “You know? I never realized the kind of damage termites could wreak on a fragile structure. Now I know. It’s not pretty.”

Her mother made a sympathetic noise.“Oh, honey. I should have told you that your father and my brother are the worst handymen in the world. Remember how they were going to build a treehouse? When the dust finally settled there was no tree house, and no tree, either. You should have hired a professional for that door. They would have installed that thing in a matter of minutes.”

“You’re telling me now? I’m bound to be homeless by the time they’re through.”

Marge brought a hand to her face to hide her mirth.“Oh, honey,” she said.

“It would be funny,” she agreed, “if it wasn’t so sad.”

“It’s just a door. I’ll tell Tex to buy you a new one, this time with a pet door pre-installed.”

Odelia glanced at the cake batter. She could go for a piece. Pity it wouldn’t be ready for another few hours. “And then there’s that Dieber business,” she continued her lament.

“Oh, that’s right. What’s going on with that?”

“Turns out they weren’t after Charlie after all. Just a lovers’ tiff gone horribly wrong. One of the female bodyguards was involved with two of the male bodyguards, and one of them killed the other one and then killed himself with the same gun that he used to kill his rival in love. Or at least that’s what it looks like at this point.”

Mom looked up sharply.“What it looks like? What do you mean?”

She threw up her hands.“You know how I get these hunches? Chase used to make fun of them, but they’re very real. And not just when the cats tell me stuff either. I could have sworn that this Toby Mulvaney was telling the truth when he said he didn’t do it. And we talked to Regan Lightbody as well—she’s the woman both men were in love with—and she says neither Ray Cooper or Toby ever showed violent tendencies. She was deeply shocked that Toby would kill Ray. Said it was simply not in his nature to do such a thing.”

“What does Chase think?”

“Chase is happy that the case is closed and he never has to set foot inside Dieber Castle ever again.”

Her mother laughed.“Dieber Castle? Is that what they call it?”

“That’s what Dieber calls it. Oh, Mom, you should see the guy. You wouldn’t like him. He’s this bratty, annoying, self-absorbed pop star. A kid, really. Worse than you can imagine. I think I’ll never be able to listen to his music again without remembering what a pain he is.”

“You have to separate the art from the artist, honey. I’ll bet if you met movie stars you wouldn’t be able to watch a single movie anymore. And the same goes for musicians.”

“Oh, and I lost Diego,” she said, deciding to pour her heart out now that she was going so well. “Dieber went on a catnapping rampage last night and I only managed to retrieve Harriet and Shanille.”

Mom checked the recipe in the latest cookbook she’d bought and frowned. “So much sugar. That can’t be right. Perhaps I’ll use half.” She glanced up. “Diego is not a very nice cat, honey. Maybe it’s for the best that he’s gone missing.”

“But I can’t just give him up. He belongs to Chase—Chase’s mother, actually.”

“So?”

“So Chase asked me to take care of him. I can’t go losing his cats, Mom. What kind of person loses another person’s cat?”

“Not all cats are created equal, Odelia. And Diego is clearly not cut from the same cloth as the others. So I say good riddance, and if Chase doesn’t like it—tough luck. He’s the one who foisted his cat on you, so I can’t imagine he cares either way.”

Odelia placed her head on the kitchen counter, enjoying the coolness of the marble against her heated cheek. She had to admit she’d never liked Diego all that much, and apparently he’d been wreaking havoc on her menagerie, stirring up trouble between Harriet and the others, and pestering Max by stealing his food, his water, his litter box and even his space on the bed. She’d hoped the feud would be short-lived, like the one between Max and Brutus had been, but her mother was right. As cats went, Diego was not a very nice one.

“Too much butter,” her mother was muttering. “Clogging up Tex’s arteries is not what I promised him when we exchanged wedding vows. Who wrote this? A serial killer?”

Just then, Grandma walked in, her iPhone glued to her ear as usual. Ever since Dad had gifted her the phone, she’d become an iPhone addict, taking the thing to bed with her and even wondering if she could take it into the shower. “Yes, Mr. President. Oh, but of course, Mr. President. I couldn’t agree more, Mr. President.” She held her hand over the phone and said, as an aside, “It’s the President.”

“I thought as much,” said Odelia, amused.

Grandma returned to her most important conversation.“You will have to sit down with him at some point, Mr. President,” she said as she took a seat next to Odelia and settled in for the duration. “Yes, everybody will be there. The American President, the German Chancellor, the French President, the Chinese General Secretary, the British Prime Minister, His Holiness Pope Francis, of course.” She rattled off a long list of dignitaries and Odelia exchanged a puzzled look with her mother, who merely shrugged and frowned at her recipe some more.

“Is she really talking to the President?” Odelia whispered, not wanting to interrupt her grandmother’s apparently important phone call.

“President Putin,” Mom clarified. “She’s been trying to reach him all morning, and she’s finally succeeded.”

“Putin? The Russian dude?”

“Yep. For some reason she was very anxious he be included in her list of acquaintances.”

“But… why? What’s going on?”

“I haven’t got a clue, and neither has Tex,” said her mother. “We’re just happy she’s found herself a hobby that doesn’t involve bees or horny old goats or running up a huge credit card bill. Ever since Tex got her that phone and a great deal on a mobile phone plan, it’s been pure bliss. We hardly see her anymore. Just drops by for breakfast, lunch and dinner and that’s it.” She put her index finger and thumb together. “Model citizen.”

Odelia studied her grandmother, who was now exchanging pleasantries with Putin. If she was happy, and Mom and Dad were happy, what harm could it do? Probably none. Besides, she had other issues to tackle. Like what to do about Diego. And what to do about this Dieber business. Chase might be happy with the way the case had concluded, but she wasn’t. Something wasn’t right, and she couldn’t walk away until she figured out what.

Chapter 24

Watching Tex and Alec at work proved a great soporific. Very soon my eyes closed, and after a while I was sound asleep, perched on the hot stone floor of the deck. I only woke up when something prodded my ribcage, and I made a valiant attempt to slap them away.

“Lemme… sleep,” I muttered.

“Max!” a voice intruded on my peaceful slumber. “She’s gone!”

“That’s great,” I said, smacking my lips and turning over to my other side. I wasn’t done sleeping. Not by a mile.

“Max!” the voice insisted, and finally I opened my eyes to see who this horrible disturber of the peace could be. I was about to give him a piece of my mind when I found myself staring into Brutus’s green eyes. Once upon a time those green eyes had haunted my nightmares, but that was before Diego had come to town, and our enmity had turned into an unexpected alliance over shared grievances. The enemy of an enemy is a friend and all that.

“Brutus?” I asked, instantly awake. It’s one of my finer qualities. Us cats can be asleep one second and wide awake the next. And we don’t even need liters of caffeine to accomplish this amazing feat. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

“Harriet’s gone, Max. Said she couldn’t live without him.”

“Without who?”

I should probably have said‘whom’ but I didn’t think Brutus would care.

“Diego, of course! She was pining for him and whining about him and finally she left.”

“Where did she go?”

“Dieber’s place, of course! Where Diego was last seen.” He placed a pleading claw on my front leg. “We have to go after her. She’s going to get herself in all kinds of trouble. That place is like the Bermuda Triangle for cats! Enter Dieber Castle and never be seen again!”

“No, it’s not. Dieber collects cats and then he gives them away to deserving Bediebers. Odelia told me all about it. To the Dieber cats are like swag. He puts them in gift bags and hands them out like so many pieces of candy or keychains or beauty products.”

“That’s… sick, Max.”

“Yeah, it’s not very cat-friendly,” I agreed.

Brutus’s eyes had gone wide. “He’s going to give Harriet away! To who-knows-who!”

“He can’t. She’s not his to give away,” I pointed out. Deep down, though, I knew he was right. The moment the Dieber laid his hands on a pretty Persian like Harriet, he would probably give her away to his biggest fan, which might mean she could very well end up in war-torn Afghanistan, Somalia or Syria. The kid had fans all across the globe. And even though Harriet and I rarely saw eye to eye, I would hate for her to meet such a terrible fate.

I gave Dooley, who was snoring softly next to me, a prod in the ribs. He woke up with a start and a snuffle.“Who’s your daddy now?” he mumbled, promptly opening his eyes.

“I don’t want to know,” I told him. “Harriet’s gone, and if we don’t get her back she’ll be on a plane to Kabul, Mogadishu or possibly even Damascus before we know it.”

He blinked a few times.“Kabul? What’s a Kabul, Max?”

“It’s a city, Dooley, and not one Harriet will enjoy. It’s hot there, and not so safe.”

“She’s gone back to Dieber’s place,” Brutus explained urgently. “And we all know what happens to cats once they enter that compound. They vanish! Without a trace!”

“Oh, no,” said Dooley, fully on board now, his brain firing on all cylinders—which was just the one, in his case, but he definitely made it count. “Max, we have to save her!”

Dooley, who was president of the Harriet Fan Club long before Brutus had entered the picture, seemed even more anxious than his rival in love.

“The problem is that she went there of her own volition,” I said. “Which makes it hard to organize an extraction.” I’d seen plenty of action movies where SEAL Team Six goes in to save some hapless civilian, only to discover that said civilian has sold our heroes down the river, to be faced with the drug kingpin’s wrath until all that’s left is SEAL Team Zero.

Dooley stared at me, wide-eyed.“You mean…”

“I mean that Harriet could very well sell us to the Dieber, and before we know it we’ll be the ones stuck in Kabul, Mogadishu, Damascus or possibly even Kinshasa, Congo.”

“I don’t want to go to Congo, Max,” Dooley intimated. “I’ll bet they don’t even have Cat Snax there.”

“Who cares about Cat Snax?!” Brutus thundered. He’d been following the discussion with rising impatience. “We go in. We snatch Harriet. We get out. It’s as simple as that.”

“And what if she doesn’t want to be snatched?” I asked. “We can’t very well force her to leave with us, Brutus.”

“We could sedate her,” Dooley suggested. “Give her a shot of some mysterious clear liquid that will knock her out until she’s safe and sound back here. It’s what Bruce would do.”

“And where are you going to find this mysterious clear liquid?” I asked.

“Um…”

“Exactly.”

“Look, you guys, we have to at least try,” said Brutus. “She doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into. This Diego character will prove her downfall, and I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t know I’d done whatever it took to save her from a fate worse than death.”

“What’s a fate worse than death?” asked Dooley.

“Being shipped off to some rabid Bedieber, of course!” Brutus cried. “Now are you with me or not? If not, I’m going out there alone—do or die!”

“I’m with you, Brutus,” said Dooley. “Though I’d rather do than die.”

“Me, too,” I said. “I’m a doer not a dier.”

And so we touched paws on it. Mission Save Harriet was officially a go.

Chapter 25

We were back at the Dieber compound, a place I thought I’d left in my rearview mirror. Then again, one has to put aside one’s misgivings when one’s friend is in grave danger. It may surprise you that cats, who have a reputation for being selfish and individualistic, would come to the aid of a friend. But if I didn’t do this, I’d never hear theend of it from Brutus and Dooley, Harriet’s biggest champions in the entire world.

And I had to admit I kinda liked the feisty Persian, too. She might be a pain in the patootie but she was also a dear friend. Even though her Diego fixation was exasperating.

The moment we were past the gate, we moved in single file, just in case the enemy was lying in wait, and kept our ears to the ground and our eyes peeled, so to speak.

“Enemy activity at our six,” Brutus suddenly whispered.

“Six? What’s our six?” asked Dooley.

“Our rear!” he hissed.

I looked over my shoulder while Dooley checked out his butt. A guard was having a smoke and taking a stroll in the garden. He didn’t look particularly dangerous to cats.

“Another bogey at one o’clock!” Brutus warned.

“A booger?” asked Dooley.

“Not a booger! A bogey!”

“What’s a bogey?”

“I have no idea, Dooley,” I said. I did see a cat lying on his back on the lawn, four paws in the air, his mouth open and a trickle of drool on his fur, clearly enjoying the feel of the sun on his jelly belly. How Brutus would know that this cat’s name was Bogey I did not know, nor did I care. All I cared about was making sure we weren’t captured by the Dieber and shipped off to some godforsaken place to live with one of his crazed Bediebers, no Cat Snax in sight.

Brutus suddenly held up his paw, claws clenched into a fist.“Sitrep! Stat!”

“Please speak English, Brutus,” I said. “I have no idea what you’re saying.”

“We need to draw up a plan of campaign. I suggest we split up. Max, you cover the left flank, Dooley draws a bead on the right flank, and I’ll engage from the front. Oorah!”

And he charged ahead, leaving Dooley and me to stare after him in bewilderment.

“Um. What did he just say, Max?” asked Dooley.

“No idea, Dooley. Let’s just go and find Harriet. That’s what we’re here for.”

“I like that,” he said gratefully.

At a slight distance we followed Brutus and soon found ourselves in the pool area again, which was where Dieber Babes liked to hang out—both the human variety and the feline. Today wasn’t any different. Dozens of young women were frolicking around in the pool, the Dieber himself the center of attention as he plunged around on an inflatable turtle, and wherever I looked I saw cats taking it all in their stride. Guarding this scene of peculiar bliss were powerfully built men and women, their heads swiveling continuously, their eyes roving, and little plastic thingies plucked into their ears which from time to time they touched with their fingers, at which point they spoke a few words to themselves.

Like I said, humans never think other humans can see them talking to themselves, which is kinda cute, actually.

“I don’t see her, Max,” Dooley informed me. “I don’t see Harriet.”

“Neither do I, Dooley. She must be inside.”

And we were stealthily moving towards the house when suddenly a familiar cat blocked our access. It was Diego, and if possible he looked even more obnoxious than usual.

“No pasar?n, dudes,” he was saying.

“We’re not here for the pasaran,” Dooley said. “We’re here to find Harriet.”

“Though while we’re here we might sample some of your pasaran,” I said. I rubbed my tummy. “I’m feeling a little peckish.”

Diego grinned.“I should have remembered you two have the mental capacity of a common housefly. What I meant to say was: you shall not pass!”

“Ooh! I’ve seen that movie!” Dooley said excitedly. “Um… It’s on the tip of my tongue. I want to say…The Goonies? No!Gremlins! It’sGremlins, right?! I likeGremlins.”

A scowl marred Diego’s features at this demonstration ofGame of Fortune.“Idiots! What I’m trying to get through your thick skulls is that you can’t go in!”

“Why? Is something burning?” I asked, genuinely surprised by this cat’s insistence.

“I’m in charge here now!” he cried. “And I don’t want you here! Capeesh?”

“Oh.” I finally saw what he meant now.

“You’re in charge now?” asked Dooley. “Charlie must like you a lot, Diego, to put you in charge of his house.”

“Not in charge of the house, you dimwit,” he snarled. “In charge of the Dieber Babes. And I’m forbidding you access to the house. So you better get lost or else.”

“Or else what?” asked Dooley, genuinely interested.

Diego held up a menacing paw, extending his nails. The scene reminded me ofNightmare on Elm Street, a movie I’d wanted to unsee ever since I watched it with Odelia. For some strange reason she loves horror movies. I most emphatically do not.

I gulped, and so did Dooley. Not only was there no pasaran in this house, there was no neighborliness either.

But just then, a second cat materialized from the relative obscurity inside and drew up next to Diego. It was Clarice.“Oh, why don’tyou get lost, Diego?” she asked irritably.

“You get lost,” Diego growled, harping on his favorite theme. “Or I’ll cut you.”

It was not something anyone had ever said to Clarice, I imagined, and I could see her expression darken into a vicious scowl. The next moment, a regular catfight ensued, and soon fur was flying and shrieks of pain were sounding. Within seconds, Diego bolted off in the direction of the garden, leaving a few drops of blood and a nice pile of orange fur on the floor. Clarice, who sat casually licking her paws, said,“There’s something you need to see.”

“Oh, we saw it,” I said, suddenly overwhelmed by an irrepressible sensation of unbridled joy and affection for this inimitable cat. “And we liked it. Didn’t we, Dooley?”

“I saw—I liked,” Dooley confirmed, a look of admiration on his furry face.

“Not that. Something else,” Clarice said with a frown. “Come.”

And come we did—into the house that was hitherto forbidden territory, and then up the stairs and down a long corridor.

“I thought you said you were through dealing with Diego?” I said.

“That was before he started throwing his weight around,” Clarice said as she sashayed across a nice white high-pile carpet. I had to resist the powerful urge to dig my claws in and start kneading. We were on a mission to save Harriet. Base urges had to wait.

“Is he really in charge of the Dieber Babes now?” asked Dooley.

“Of course he isn’t. He just wishes he was. That cat has the biggest Napoleon complex I’ve ever seen in any living being. It’s pathetic, actually, and a little sad.”

“Um, what’s a Napoleon complex?” asked Dooley.

“You may have noticed that Diego is a pretty short cat. To compensate he likes to act tough and whip other cats into submission. But not me. Uh-uh. If he tries that crap again, I swear I’ll slice him up so bad his own mother won’t recognize him. Oh, here we are.”

I gulped, and so did Dooley. I’d seen Clarice gobble up vicious rats whole without batting an eye. I did not want to be on her bad side. If Diego kept this up, he was a dead cat.

We’d arrived at one of the guest rooms, and Clarice jumped and grabbed the door handle with both paws. The handle twisted down under her weight and the door opened.

“Hey, that’s a neat trick,” said Dooley.

“Stick with me. I can teach you stuff,” said Clarice, pushing the door open further.

The room was smaller than I would have imagined in a house this size, and pretty messy. Magazines were strewn around, and when I checked the titles I saw they were all either gun-or baseball-related. A large poster of Alex Rodriguez adorned the wall over the bed, and a sizable banner of the New York Yankees covered the opposite wall.

“Looks like whoever lives here likes baseball,” I said. “And guns.”

“Over here,” said Clarice, and moved into a bathroom the size of a cubicle. Over the sink, the mirror was bedecked with pictures, and when I looked closer, I saw they all featured the same woman.

“She’s one of Dieber’s bodyguards,” Clarice said. “Her name is Regan Lightbody.”

“Looks like this guy is pretty obsessed with her,” I said. And then my eye fell on a few more disturbing details. The pictures of two guys had been marked with big red Xs over their faces.

Clarice had followed my gaze, and said,“Ray Cooper and Toby Mulvaney. The two bodyguards that were shot.” She raised a whisker when I stared at a message taped beneath the men’s pictures. It read, ‘If I can’t have you—no one can!’

“What does it mean, Max?” asked Dooley, who’d just spotted the same message.

“It means that whoever lives in this room is a double murderer,” I said.

Chapter 26

It is always a tough proposition to be faced with two incompatible tasks. On the one hand I wanted to run and tell Odelia what we’d just discovered, so she could induce Chase to apprehend the killer. On the other hand, we’d arrived at the Dieber house with a job to do, namely to save Harriet from the cat-collecting and cat-distributing singer. And since I couldn’t be in two places at the same time, I had a decision to make, and a tough one to boot.

Luckily I was helped in my decision-making process by the arrival on the scene of the very cat we’d come here to save: Harriet walked into the room and gave the three of us a vicious glare.

“Did you or did you not just attack my boyfriend?” she demanded.

I had the impression she was talking to Clarice, and that impression was confirmed when Clarice replied,“If you’re talking about that obnoxious fleabag that calls himself Diego then yes, I did give him a piece of my mind. And if he wants more, he knows where to get it.”

A challenging statement, but then Clarice had the chops to back it up.

“I’ll have you know I lodged a formal complaint with the other Dieber Babes. They’ll want to have a word with you. You can’t go around cutting up cats, Clarice. You simply can’t!”

“I can and I will if a cat gives me as much grief as your Diego does,” said Clarice.

“Diego is the sweetest, most charming cat for miles around,” she challenged.

“You’re deluded if you think that cat’s charming, honey,” said Clarice.

But Harriet raised her chin.“Diego is a sweetheart, and I’ll bet that the only reason you attacked him is because he rejected you. Diego is mine, Clarice, and you have no business trying to seduce him.”

For a moment I thought Clarice was about to attack Harriet, for these were fighting words. Instead, she laughed—perhaps the first time I’d heard her utter such a musical laugh of genuine merriment. She laughed and laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. Harriet’s eyes, meanwhile, were shooting sheets of flame. Not that it affected Clarice in the least.

“Oh, you’re funny, girl,” said Clarice finally. “Me and that scuzzball. You wish.”

“What’s so funny about that? I know you tried to seduce him. He told me so himself. And when he said no, you attacked him. Poor cat said he never saw it coming. Lost a great deal of fur and I’m not sure those scratches on his nose won’t leave a few very nasty scars.”

“I hope they do,” Clarice said. “The cat is a liar, Harriet. A big, fat liar.”

“She’s right,” I said. “Diego threatened to cut Clarice, so she cut him. That’s what happened. Isn’t that right, Dooley?”

“That’s exactly what happened,” Dooley was happy to confirm. “Diego said, ‘Get lost, Clarice, or I’ll cut you.’ Those were his exact words. He’s not a very nice cat. Not nice at all.”

“You’re the liars!” Harriet cried, stomping her paw for good measure. “You’re the big, fat liars! All of you. You, Max, are jealous of Diego because he’s a much better singer than you and because Odelia likes him best. And you, Dooley, are jealous because I’m with Diego now and that drives you crazy, just like it drives Brutus crazy. And you, Clarice, can’t stand it when a cat as attractive and charming as Diego prefers to be with me and not you. You’re all jealous and you’re all horrible, horrible cats and I never want to see you again for as long as I live!” And with these words, she took her leave, sweeping from the room like a diva.

“But Harriet!” Dooley cried.

She turned at the door, held up her paw and snapped,“Talk to the paw, Dooley!”

And then she was gone.

“Talk to the paw?” Dooley asked. “Why do I have to talk to her paw?”

“It’s an expression,” I said. “It means she doesn’t want to listen to you.”

“Oh, I’m used to that,” said Dooley. “I just didn’t see what her paw had to do with anything.”

“Oh, Dooley, Dooley,” said Clarice. “You are a sweetheart, aren’t you? Let me just say it’s her loss if she chooses Diego over you. The cat is a moron, and I don’t say that lightly.”

“Harriet is not a moron,” said Dooley, coming to Harriet’s defense even under these circumstances. “She just has a strange taste in cats, I guess.”

“That’s an understatement,” I said.

And just as we were about to walk out and return home, Brutus sailed into the room, moving at sixty miles an hour.“Where is she? I heard her voice! Where is Harriet?!”

“Tough luck, macho,” said Clarice. “Harriet and Diego are back together and she’ll scratch out the eyes of anyone who dares to come between them.” She shook her head. “That’s it,” she announced. “This is the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’m out.”

“But you’re not a camel, Clarice,” said Dooley. “Are you?”

She smiled and gave his cheek a tender stroke—no claws involved. “See you around, Dooley. And you, Max and Brutus. And if you see Diego, kick him in the rear from me, will you? Don’t hold back.” She held up her paw and dropped something. “Clarice out.”

After she’d stalked from the room, tail held high and head up, we stared at the item she’d dropped. It was a piece of Diego’s fur that must have gotten stuck in her claws.

“What a cat,” said Dooley admiringly. “What. A. Cat.”

“Is it true what she said about Harriet?” asked Brutus, a pained expression on his face. “Is she back together with Diego?”

“Yes, it’s true,” I said. “She was in here ready to pick a fight with Clarice over Diego, accusing her of trying to steal him from her. Nonsense, of course, but Harriet bought it.”

Brutus plunked down on his haunches, a haunted look in his eyes.“That’s it. I’m out, too. This is the end, you guys. I’m done fighting.”

“Good,” I said.

“Why is that good?”

“Because we’ve got something to show you,” I said, and led him into the bathroom.

Chapter 27

It was late in the afternoon when Odelia pulled up to the arts center in downtown Hampton Cove. The Seabreeze Music Center was usually reserved for local artists showcasing their talents, the occasional concert, ballet or musical performance, but today hosted perhaps the biggest star of the moment. Charlie Dieber was preparing to go on tour again, to promote his upcoming album, and had picked the Seabreeze for a tryout slash surprise gig. The venue chosen, he’d dropped clues on his social media accounts, and W-AWOL5 had also been spreading the word in the days since his appearance on their show.

When Odelia learned about the show from her uncle Alec, a tightness had spread across her chest, and she knew she had to be there to ward off whatever that little voice inside her head kept telling her. Not that the little voice was particularly intelligible, or even made any sense to her, but she knew something was wrong, and she had to try and stop it.

So she’d called Chase, who agreed to meet her at the Seabreeze, and now she stood scuffing her toe on the pavement and biting her lip as she waited for the cop to show up.

Dozens of highly excitable girls stood giggling and gibbering animatedly, all wearing Charlie Dieber Tshirts, Charlie Dieber caps and some of them even sporting Charlie Dieber temp tattoos on their cheeks. One girl, who couldn’t have been older than twelve, started singing ‘Will You Love Me Forever?’ and the rest quickly chimed in. It was one of Charlie’s biggest hits, but for some reason it annoyed the heck out of Odelia now. She’d been such a big fan, but since she’d taken a peek behind the curtain and gotten a good look at the kid hiding there, she’d lost all respect. She felt like Dorothy, only Charlie was even worse than the Wizard.

Chase arrived and darted a curious glance at the dozens of kids now singing another Dieber hit.‘I want to be your boyfriend, will you be my girlfriend, baby?’ they were yelling.

“I knew you were a fan, babe. I just didn’t know you were such a big fan,” Chase said with a grin. “Are you sure this is your crowd? You seem kinda old to be a Bedieber.”

“Ha ha. Very funny. We’re here on official police business, Chase. Not as fans.”

“Official police business, huh? And you’re not even a cop.”

“You’re the cop. I’m just here to make sure you arrest the right people.”

Uncle Alec also joined them, looking slightly out of breath.“Damn. I had to park a mile away. This Dieber kid is popular.”

“You figured that out now?” asked Chase, clapping his superior officer on the back.

“Yeah, I had no idea,” Alec said, extracting a big white handkerchief from his pants pocket and wiping his brow. “Now what’s all this about a security threat?” he asked.

“I don’t think Toby committed suicide,” Odelia said.

“You told me already. And I’m telling you he did. Gunpowder residue on his hand, position of the body, fingerprints on the gun. He did it, Odelia. He killed Ray Cooper and then he killed himself when he realized you were onto him and he wasn’t getting away with it.”

She was shaking her head.“I don’t buy it. I just…”

Chase and her uncle exchanged a glance.“Those hunches again, huh?” asked Alec.

“I thought you told Chase I was always right?”

“Yeah, but that was before you decided to ignore solid evidence. Did, um…”

“Did what?”

He darted a quick look at Chase.“Did one of your informants tell you something?”

“No. Not this time. This time I’m trusting my own gut.”

This didn’t seem to inspire her uncle with a great deal of confidence. If her cats gave her inside information from the feline world, he was fully on board. Now? Not so much.

But finally he shrugged.“You know? I’ve never been to a Dieber concert before.” He frowned at the braying crowd of teenagers. “I’ll bet it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

“Look at it this way, Chief,” said Chase. “It’ll help you stay young.”

“Or deaf,” he grumbled as he covered his ears.

The doors to the center opened, and the braying intensified, turning into a roar. As one girl, the troupe stormed the door, and practically flattened the man who’d opened it.

Once inside, Odelia was surprised to find the theater as big as it was. It had been ages since she’d been in here, last time for a Christmas show, and she hardly remembered.

They walked on through to the front, and proceeded to climb up to the stage, which was loaded with equipment ranging from guitars, synths, drum set, amplifiers, and even a baby grand piano, where, presumably, Dieber would play‘Girlfriend,’ his breakthrough hit.

They were met backstage by Carlos Roulston, who gave them a curious look.

“When I got your phone call I honestly thought it was a prank,” he said.

“Better safe than sorry,” said Chief Alec.

“So there’s been a threat? Is it credible?”

“Very credible,” said Chase as he shot a look at Odelia.

Roulston nodded.“I hired some extra people so we should have everything covered. Appreciate the heads-up. Let’s just hope your source was wrong and things go smoothly.”

He walked off, barking some orders into his phone, and Odelia, Chase and her uncle watched from the wings as people milled about, and the theater quickly filled up.

“Looks like a full house,” Chase commented. “The kid’s a real draw.”

“Did this ‘hunch’ of yours tell you where the threat will be coming from?” asked Uncle Alec, who appeared very unhappy to be there. He truly wasn’t a pop concert fan.

“Not exactly,” she admitted. “I just…”

“Have a feeling,” he completed the sentence. “At least tell us if Dieber is the target.”

“I don’t know,” she said helplessly. “Him or someone in his entourage.”

“Right,” said Uncle Alec dubiously. “Look, I need a smoke. Be right back.”

“I didn’t know he started smoking again,” she said as she watched her uncle’s retreating broad back.

“He smoked before?”

“Oh, yes. After Aunt Ginny died he started smoking like a chimney. My mom finally convinced him to quit. Dad helped by showing him some X-rays of lung cancer patients.”

“He’s not a big smoker. A couple of cigarettes a day. At least he doesn’t smoke in the house.”

“How’s that working out for you, living with Alec?”

“It’s great. We’re like a comedy duo.”

She smiled.“So who’s Lucy and who’s Desi?”

Chase grinned.“I’m definitely not Lucy, I can tell you that.”

Uncle Alec returned, reeking of cigarettes, and announced,“Look who I found lurking outside the stage door.” He stepped aside to reveal Max, Dooley and Brutus.

“Odelia!” Max announced urgently. “You have to stop him! He’s going to kill her!”

She clamped her teeth together and crouched down.“Who?” she whispered.

“Nugent!” he cried. “I finally figured it out! Nugent is going to kill Regan!”

Chapter 28

Unfortunately, just at that moment Charlie Dieber walked onstage, to the booming roar of an ecstatic crowd, and the concert started. Whatever else Max was saying was lost on Odelia, for try as he might, he couldn’t raise his voice over the racket.

The terrific noise caused Brutus and Dooley to hug the floor, trying to cover their ears, and Odelia searched around to see if she could catch a glimpse of Jason Nugent. But wherever the guard was, he wasn’t here, and for a moment she feared he might already have struck. But then she caught a glimpse of Regan Lightbody, on the other side of the stage. She was keeping a close eye on the proceedings, her keen gaze swiveling from Dieber, as he performed, to the crowd. More guards had been placed in front of the stage, and they had a hard time preventing crazed teens, eyes wet with tears and screaming their lungs out, from trying to mount the stage and jump Dieber. Panties and bras and other items of underwear were being pelted onstage, along with teddy bears and lots and lots of plush cats.

Charlie took it all in stride, as he belted out his biggest hits. He seemed in his element, and Odelia had to admit he looked really cool, and his voice sounded great, too.

And then she returned her gaze to Regan and saw to her horror that a man was sneaking up on her from behind, holding a large knife that flashed in the stage spotlights. She recognized the man as Jason Nugent. Chase had seen the same thing, and so had Uncle Alec. Ignoring the confused looks from Charlie and the members of his band, she wasted no time darting across the stage, yelling,“Regan! Regan, watch out—behind you!”

Regan saw her coming, and frowned, instinctively going for her gun. Then, when she saw Odelia pointing, she whirled around and saw the threat. Nugent, not expecting this, tried to plunge the knife into her neck, but she managed to ward off the blow with a slashing movement of her arm, causing her gun to drop to the floor. In response, the flat-nosed bodyguard dropped the knife and brought out a handgun of his own, training it on Regan.

Chase and Uncle Alec, who’d joined them, stopped short when they caught sight of the weapon, and held their hands up in a bid to put the guard at ease and stop the attack.

The concert, still in full swing, drowned out any words that were spoken, but the look on Nugent’s face spoke volumes. For some reason Odelia didn’t comprehend, he wanted Regan dead. Presumably he’d meant for the attack to look like another botched assassination attempt on Dieber, and if Max hadn’t warned Odelia he might have gotten away with it, too. He still might, for he was cocking the gun now, Regan making pleading gestures.

Nugent brought his left hand up to steady his right, and took a two-handed stance, as if he was at the gun range, aiming his weapon squarely on Regan. He yelled something, then, which sounded a lot like,“If I can’t have you, no one can!” but Odelia couldn’t be sure.

“No!” she screamed, but knew it was too late. The man would fire and kill Regan.

And just when she was contemplating throwing herself on top of Nugent, help suddenly descended from the skies. Three cats dropped down, claws out. Max landed on the man’s face, blocking his view, while Brutus dropped on his hands, knocking them down and causing the shot that he squeezed off to drill a hole in the stage floor. Dooley, unfortunately, missed his approach and landed on top of Uncle Alec’s head, who quickly shook him off.

Max must have really dug in, for Nugent now dropped his gun, and tried to pry the outsized orange cat from his face. Like an alien facehugger, though, Max wasn’t budging, and hung on tight. Odelia, who didn’t want Max to suffer any harm, quickly came to his aid. It was hard to know what to do, though, for Nugent was lashing out all around himself, clearly crazed. Max was finally sent flying, and Odelia saw that the man’s already damaged visage had been upgraded with a nice set of bloodied new scratch marks. Instead of one sliced eyebrow, he now had two. Too late, she saw that Nugent made a dive for his gun.

Sadly for him he met Chase’s fist on his way down. The hit to the temple he sustained was so considerable that he was knocked back, and landed on the floor, out for the count.

The band, who’d finally realized something was amiss, had stopped playing. Not Charlie, though, who had his eyes closed and just kept on singing. Without the support of his musicians and especially his backing track, it soon became clear that Charlie Dieber’s voice was weak, thin and flat at best. Even the assistance of voice amplification couldn’t induce it to rise above a sad whisper. It soon became obvious to one and all: the kid couldn’t sing!

There was a shocked silence in the crowd, but then people started booing and laughing. Dieber, opening his eyes and realizing he was singing all by himself, immediately stopped and held up a hand, displayed a wide smile and shouted,“I love you! Love you all!”

And then he fled the stage and disappeared into the bowels of the theater.

Chapter 29

They were in Dieber’s dressing room, Odelia, Chase, and Roulston’s crew. Uncle Alec had arrested Jason Nugent and taken him into police custody. Regan Lightbody, meanwhile, had a hard time coming to grips with what had just happened. Her tough demeanor had crumpled, and her face was tear-stained. She wiped her cheeks with the back of her sleeve.

“I knew he liked me. I just didn’t know he was obsessed with me,” she told Odelia.

Dieber had hit the shower and returned now, dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie. The concert, after hitting that unfortunate snag, had soon started up again, and since Charlie acted as if nothing had happened, soon his Bediebers had put the vocal mishap out of their minds as a one-time anomaly in an otherwise super show, and had resumed screaming.

“Great show,” Charlie was saying to no one in particular. He sank down onto a couch and closed his eyes. “Best show ever, dudes.”

“Is it true that Nugent shot Ray and Toby?” asked Regan, hugging herself.

“Yes, it’s true,” said Odelia. “He figured that if he could just get rid of them, you might turn to him as the next best thing. When that didn’t happen, he decided to kill you, too, and make it look like someone was coming after Charlie and you got in the way.”

“I never saw him that way. I considered him a friend. A colleague. Nothing more.”

Roulston wrapped her into an embrace, and Odelia turned to Chase, who was shaking his head.“How the hell did you know?” he asked. “And how the hell did your cats save Regan? I just don’t get it.”

She smiled.“They must have crawled up into the stage rafters when they realized what was happening, and decided to jump on top of Nugent to try and stop him.”

“Those cats of yours are something else, Odelia, let me tell you that.”

“Yes, they are.”

“And your hunches? I’m never making fun of you again. Ever.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Oh, please do. I mean, you should have been a cop, babe. You’re aces.”

“Thanks,” she said, greatly touched. “I’m just glad we managed to save Regan.”

There was a commotion at the door, and a girl burst in, followed by a woman with a clipboard and headphones. The girl was blushing and giggling and grinning like crazy the moment she caught sight of Charlie.

“Hey, Bedieber!” he said, getting up. “Come on in. Have I got a surprise for you!”

The girl proceeded into the dressing room. She looked all of thirteen years old and was dressed in a Dieber tank top, pink bra, ultra-short skirt and not much more.

“If I were that girl’s mother…” Odelia muttered.

“Yeah, but you’re not,” Chase said. “So shush, Poole.”

She grumbled something as she watched the same assistant who’d ushered the girl in hand Dieber a large box. When he opened the box, she saw to her surprise that it contained none other than… Diego! The cat looked a little annoyed at having been stuck inside a box.

“Isn’t that my mother’s cat?” asked Chase, sounding as surprised as she was.

“It is.”

“Do you like cats?” Dieber asked the girl, who nodded eagerly, her cheeks flushed.

“I love cats!” she squeaked. All that screaming had clearly affected her vocal cords.

“Here you go,” said the singer, and handed her Diego. “Take good care of him.”

“Oh, I will, Charlie!” she squealed, eagerly grabbing the cat. “I’ll love him and cherish him and keep him forever! I’ll feed him the best food and give him cuddles and huggies all day long!”

Odelia studied the girl for a moment.“Do you really like cats?”

“Oh, do I? I love cats! We’ve got twelve of them at the mansion.”

“The mansion?”

“My father is the owner of Feline’s Gold. My family lives in Southampton.”

“Feline’s Gold? The cat food company? The one that produces Cat Snax?”

She nodded enthusiastically.“I love cats. Almost as much as I love Charlie.”

Diego gave Odelia a wink and a grin.“Sorry to leave you, babe, but looks like I just found myself a better deal.”

“Now wait a minute,” Chase said, stepping forward.

“It’s all right, Chase,” said Odelia, placing a hand on his arm.

He frowned.“But that’s Diego.”

“I’m sure he’ll be very happy with this girl,” she said. “What’s your name, honey?”

“Kitty Nala.”

“I’m sure Diego will be very happy with Kitty Nala.”

Diego was still grinning.“Keep that hairy ape away from me, Odelia. I just hit the jackpot! Woo-hoo!”

Odelia leaned in, and whispered into his ear,“See you around, Diego.”

“Fat chance,” he replied. “I’m heading for cat paradise, babes! Adios!”

She stepped back, also smiling, and waved as Kitty Nala left the dressing room with Diego clutched in her arms. Some problems have a way of taking care of themselves, she thought. And this was one problem she was glad she didn’t have to solve.

Dieber’s assistant walked up again and delivered a second box to the singer.

“I want to give you a small token of my appreciation,” he said, fixing Odelia with a sultry stare. “Turns out you saved the day. And even though they weren’t trying to kill me—which came as a great surprise, and a slight disappointment—I still want to thank you.”

“That’s all right,” she said. “Just doing my duty.”

Chase leaned in, and whispered,“You even sound like a cop.”

“Here,” said Charlie, handing her the big box. “From me to you, babe.”

She opened the box and to her surprise found Harriet staring up at her piteously.

The Persian gave a pleading little mewl, then said,“Please take me home, Odelia.”

Odelia placed the box on the floor and pressed her lips together, fury lancing through her.“Charlie Dieber! You can’t gift me a cat that you stole from me in the first place!”

“Oh, dear,” said the pop star, closing his eyes. “Here we go again.”

“This is Harriet! This is my cat!”

“How am I supposed to know who belongs to who?” the star asked with a shrug.

“You’re the worst cat person I’ve ever met in my entire life!” she screamed, her cheeks reddening and her fists clenching and unclenching. “And you’re a lousy singer!”

“Hey, now don’t you go and get personal,” he said, darting worried glances at her fists. He then directed a beseeching look at Chase, hoping the large cop would intervene, just like he had the last time Odelia had flown off the handle. But Chase merely smiled and folded his arms across his chest, clearly prepared to sit this one out.

“If you steal one more cat!” she shouted, wagging a finger in the kid’s face. “One more cat, I swear to God!”

“Okay, all right! Jeezus. What’s with you and cats? They’re just a bunch of stupid animals.”

She hauled off and slapped the singer so hard across the cheek the sound echoed around the dressing room. Charlie’s personal assistant was there, Roulston was there, and so were Regan and the rest of the security guards. None of them interfered when Odelia gave the spoiled brat a slap across the face that he would remember for a long time to come.

“She hit me!” he cried, touching his cheek. “Do something! Arrest her! Shehit me!”

But instead of arresting her, they all smiled and then walked out. On his way out, Roulston leaned into Odelia and murmured,“Been wanting to do that for avery long time.”

Odelia picked up her cat and, after firing off a look that could kill and making the singer wilt, she walked out. To her great satisfaction the imprint of her hand was nicely outlined on Charlie’s face. A small gift from her to him. A token of her lack of appreciation.

Epilogue

After the crazy week we’d had, it was great to see things finally return to normal. To celebrate the conclusion of the Charlie Dieber case—although in actual fact it had turned out to be the Regan Lightbody case, and Charlie Dieber didn’t feature into the affair at all, much to the singer’s dismay—Tex decided to organize one of his fabled barbecues, and so the whole family gathered in Tex and Marge’s backyard that night, to enjoy a nice dinner.

Brutus, Dooley and I had taken up our usual perch on the porch swing, where we had an excellent overview of the proceedings, and Odelia had set out some delicious treats for us—the same meat the humans snacked on, only ours was fully raw, of course.

Why humans want to ruin their food by cooking it is beyond me. Then again, a lot of the things humans do is a cause for head-scratching. Though I usually try not to let the revolting scent of their cooking or grilling interfere with my own enjoyment of the feast.

Harriet, who’d been in seclusion inside the house, finally walked out and joined us.

At first things were a little awkward between us. The last words she’d spoken still rankled. ‘I never want to see you again for as long as I live’ is one of those statements it’s a little hard to walk back on. She was still alive, and she was seeing us right now, so…

She cleared her throat.“Look, you guys. I owe you an apology. I mean…” She cast an apologetic look at Brutus, her former boyfriend. “I guess Diego fooled me.”

“Not for the first time,” Brutus couldn’t help but point out.

I placed a paw on his leg.“Don’t be petty, Brutus. Let’s hear what she has to say.”

“Yeah, the joke is on me, isn’t it?” Harriet said bitterly. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…” She sighed, directing a searching look into the distance, beyond the cloud of thick, black smoke wafting up from Tex’s barbecue, a clear indication he was torching his sausages again. “I thought he’d changed his ways, you know,” she said. “He told me he was now a different, better cat. That I brought out the best in him. I guess Diego’s best was not all that good to begin with. When I heard how happy he was to go and live with that Kitty Nala person, and that he didn’t even give a single thought to me—as if I didn’t even exist…”

She brought a distraught paw to her quivering lip, and tears glistened in her eyes.

It was obvious that she hadn’t fully recovered from the terrible episode yet.

“I heard everything, you know. I was in my box but I could hear the whole thing.”

“Oh, sweetness,” said Brutus, sidling closer to her. “Forget about that cat. He isn’t worth a single tear.”

“I know,” she said, nodding hard, then turned her tear-streaked face up to Brutus. “You’re so nice to me, Brutus. Why are you so nice?”

“Because I care about you, babycheeks. You’re my girl. You’ll always be my girl.”

“Oh, Brutus.”

“There, there. Now lemme dry those tears. Everything is gonna be all right.”

“Oh, honey bucket. I missed you.”

“I missed you too, buttercup.”

“Oh, booksie-bug.”

“Oh, snooksie-tootsie-wootsie.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” Dooley announced, making a face.

I grinned.“Looks like things are back to normal on the home front, buddy.”

“Yuck.”

And while the lovebirds renewed their lovebirdiness, Dooley and I watched the Pooles come together and prepare to be poisoned by Tex’s nonexistent barbecue skills.

“So did you get a confession, Uncle Alec?” Odelia was asking as she held up her glass of ros?.

“I most certainly did,” the Chief said. “And I didn’t even have to beat him up.” When his comment attracted worried glances from his family members, he quickly added, “That was a joke. I would never beat up my prisoners. Not even the nasty ones.”

“Nugent confessed to the whole thing,” Chase chimed in. “Said he thought that if Ray and Toby were out of the picture Regan would come crying to him, and eventually develop feelings deeper than mere friendship. When that didn’t happen, he decided she had to die.”

“Yeah, a real Romeo, that one,” said Alec.

“I think it’s sad,” intimated Marge, who was officiating the carving of a big slice of roast that she’d prepared on the grill just in case her husband’s barbecue prowess failed them.

“Yeah, it’s pretty sad,” Odelia agreed. “But at least Regan is fine. And Jason Nugent will be punished for his crimes.”

“I still don’t get how you got it,” Chase said, returning to one of his favorite themes. “I mean, those hunches of yours are quickly becoming the stuff of legend, Poole.”

Odelia shrugged and took a sip of her wine, her eyes sparkling as much as the wine did. She wasn’t going to reveal her big secret to Chase, who would never understand.

I cast a look at Vesta, who’d been remarkably quiet throughout the evening.

“What’s the matter with Grandma?” asked Dooley, following my gaze. “She hasn’t spoken a word all day. It’s not like her to be in silence. And when she put out my bowl she gave me an extra cuddle and said, ‘You’re the only in this house who truly loves me, Dooley. My one true friend.The only one who would never betray me.’ What was that all about?”

We watched as Grandma Muffin sat cloaked in resolute silence, her lips pressed together in a thin line and her wrinkly face a thundercloud. She was even refusing to take nourishment, causing Marge to dart occasional exasperated glances in her direction.

“The thing is, Dooley, your human has been very naughty again.”

Dooley uttered a groan.“What did she do this time?”

“Apparently when Tex and Marge gifted her an iPhone and a remarkably affordable cell phone plan so she could call her friends, she quickly discovered a fun game in the App Store.”

“What kind of game?”

“Well, it’s called ‘Game of Phones.’ The trick is to select as many world leaders as you can, and then call them for as long as possible. The person with the most world leaders on the leaderboard and the most phone time racked up wins a cruise to the Bahamas.”

“So that’s why she was calling Angela Merkel in the middle of the night!”

“I think she’s hardly slept all week. She’s been chatting nonstop with these nonexistent world leaders all this time.”

“Nonexistent? You mean…”

I leveled a grim look at him.“Do you really think the German Chancellor would give a little old lady from Hampton Cove, USA, the time of day? Or listen to her rambling advice?”

“But Angela Merkel talked back to her. And so did this Ban Ki-moon and the others.”

“Artificial intelligence automated response system,” I said, repeating what Odelia had told me before dinner. “Grandma was talking to a bot, Dooley. Just a stupid computer bot.”

“So what’s so naughty about that? It must be fun to pretend-talk to the President.”

“The thing is, Game of Phones is a scam. You pay an exorbitant amount of money for every minute you chat with their bots, and since Gran gave them Tex’s credit card details…”

Dooley slapped a paw to his brow.“Oh, dear. Not again.”

“Yes, again. So when Tex got his credit card bill this morning…”

“He wasn’t happy.”

“He was very unhappy. And then he confiscated Vesta’s iPhone.”

“And now she’s unhappy.”

“Come on, Mom,” said Uncle Alec to his mother now. “You have to eat something. You’ll starve to death!”

“So be it,” croaked Grandma, her arms crossed defiantly over her chest. “This family hates me, so I hate them back.” She wagged a bony finger. “If I die, it’s on all of you!”

“You’ll get your phone back once I figure out how to have it kid-proofed,” said Tex.

She darted a look at him that no mother should ever direct at her son-in-law.“For your information, I’m not a child, Tex!”

“As long as you act like one, you’ll be treated as one,” Tex said cheerfully. “Sausage, anyone?” He presented a plate with six blackened sausages. Uncle Alec, Odelia and Chase took one look at the incinerated carcasses and demurred, preferring Marge’s roast instead.

“I want my phone,” said Grandma mutinously. “You can’t do this to me. This is a human rights violation and I’m gonna call Ban Ki-moon the minute I get my phone back.”

“That wasn’t the real Ban Ki-moon, Mom,” said Marge gently. “That was just a computer bot in the Philippines pretending to be Ban Ki-moon so it could scam you.”

“I don’t care. He told me I could be the next Secretary-General of the United Nations. Said I had the gumption and the wherewithal to save the planet and restore world peace to a troubled humanity! Do you really think a fake Ban Ki-moon would say those things to me?”

“Look, Ban Ki-moon isn’t even the Secretary-General anymore,” Odelia pointed out, holding up her phone and displaying a Wikipedia page. “It’s a guy called Ant?nio Guterres.”

“Don’t you believe that stuff,” said Gran stubbornly. “Everybody knows Wikipedia is fake news. I talked to Ban Ki-moon, and Angela Merkel, and Putin, and the President, and they all had nice things to say about me. Said I might get the Nobel Peace Prize for the work I do. And now that I finally get some recognition from some very important people, my own family turns against me!” She got up. “You know what? I don’t need this crap. I’m leaving!”

They watched, jaws dropped, as she stalked off.

“Ma! Where are you going?” asked Uncle Alec.

“To Washington! Where I’m appreciated! I’m gonna talk to the President in person. Last time we spoke he said he’d make me Secretary of State. I’m gonna remind him.”

“Ma! Come back here!” Alec said, throwing down his napkin and chasing after her.

“Never! I’m destined for greatness! You can’t hold me back!”

She disappeared around the corner of the house, still going strong, with Uncle Alec in hot pursuit. Their voices died away, and Dooley muttered,“Who’s going to feed me now?”

“She’ll be back,” I told him. “She might be nuts, but she’s not that nuts.”

“How long before she’ll come crawling back?” asked Odelia.

“I give her two hours,” said Tex.

“One hour,” said Marge. “She hasn’t eaten, remember?”

“You’ve got one crazy family, Poole,” said Chase with a grin. “And I like it!” he hastened to add when she quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

Yep. That’s us. One crazy family. And as I watched Brutus and Harriet canoodling nearby, and Uncle Alec chase his mother around and around the house, and Chase press a kiss on Odelia’s lips—and Tex doing the same with Marge—I thought about Dooley’s words. When was I finally going to find love? I thought about Clarice, roaming her beloved woods again, and Charlie’s Dieber Babes, one collection of fine but ultimately vapid cats, and then glanced at my buddy Dooley—my best friend and wingman—and sighed happily.

I had friends and family, I had food and my health. Why spoil it with romance?

A chicken wing rolled into my bowl, accompanied by a peck on the top of my head from Odelia, and I watched as she and Chase disappeared through the hedge, holding hands.

“What are they up to, you think?” asked Dooley.

“Nookie,” I told him.

“What’s a nookie, Max?” he asked.

“Um…”

“Is it like a cookie?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

He smiled.“I love cookies.”

In short order, Tex and Marge disappeared into the house, Brutus and Harriet disappeared into the bushes, and the backyard was suddenly empty.

“Are they all going for cookies?” asked Dooley.

“Yup. Everybody loves a cookie.”

We sat in silence for a moment, watching as Uncle Alec and Grandma Muffin came around the corner of the house once more. Grandma appeared out of breath, for she plunked down in her chair, glanced around and, noticing the rest of the family had split, sliced off a piece of roast, dug her spoon into the bowl of potatoes, and started tucking in.

Uncle Alec, also dropping into a chair, watched her with a contented smile.

Silence reigned, only interrupted by Grandma’s smacking noises.

“You know what, Max?” asked Dooley finally.

“What?”

“Chase is probably right. The Pooles are a little crazy, aren’t they?”

“That, they definitely are.”

“But I still love them.”

“So do I, Dooley. So do I.”

And then we followed Grandma’s example and tucked in, too.

Life with the Pooles might not be perfect, but it was never boring.

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Ник Сайнт Purrfect Heat. Purrfect Santa. Purrfect Crime. Purrfect Rivalry