Purrfect Alibi (3)

Chapter 11

Uncle Alec put down his phone. He was looking grim.

“Chase. Better come along,” he snapped. “They found him.”

“Found who?” asked Odelia.

“The killer.” He turned to Odelia’s mom. “With any luck this’ll all be over tonight, honey.”

“That would be great,” said Mom.

“Can I tag along?” asked Odelia as her uncle and Chase made for the door.

“Sure. Why not?” said the Chief. “You better go home,” he added for Mom, Tex and Gran’s sake. “No sense in sticking around here.”

“But I have to close the library,” said Mom. “I can’t just leave it open all night.”

“My people will close up shop, Marge,” said Uncle Alec with a smile. “You go on home and try to get some sleep. You, too, Ma. Can you make sure they get home safe, Tex?”

“Will do,” Odelia’s dad confirmed.

“I’m gonna tag along with you, Alec,” said Gran.

All eyes turned to the old lady.

“What? Odelia can come and I can’t? This is ageism pure and simple.”

Uncle Alec grimaced. “This is police business, Ma. Nothing to do with you.”

“Everything’s to do with me,” she countered. “I’m a detective in my own right, and I want to see this man’s killer brought to justice.” She vaguely gestured in the direction of the stage, where Chris Ackerman’s body had already been removed by Abe Cornwall’s crew.

“Mom, you’re not a detective,” said Marge quietly.

“But I want to be.” She directed a cheerful look in Odelia’s direction. “Teach me?”

Odelia opened her mouth, then closed it again. Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t this. “But-but-but…” she sputtered.

“That’s settled then,” said her grandmother, and hooked arms with her. “Let’s crack this case wide open, darlin’. And show those bad ‘uns what Poole women are made of.”

Dad made a strangled noise at the back of his throat, Mom looked stunned, Uncle Alec was rubbing his sideburns as if hoping to produce a genie that would spirit Grandma away for good, and Chase was trying not to laugh. All in all, Gran had probably produced the effect she’d been aiming for. Odelia thought her grandmother would have made a great actress. One of those divas of old, like Elizabeth Taylor or Bette Davis. She certainly knew how to hold an audience spellbound with her antics and her harebrained schemes.

They made for the exit, and as they walked out, Odelia nodded a kindly greeting at the officer guarding the door. “Hey, Jackson. Still hanging around, I see?”

Jackson went a little goggle-eyed. “How did you get in?”

“Magic,” said Odelia, doing the jazz hands thing.

“Don’t just stand there, Jackson,” Uncle Alec grumbled. “Make yourself useful.”

“Yes, sir,” said Officer Jackson, practically jumping to attention. He considered his superior officer’s words. “What do you want me to do, sir?”

Uncle Alec fixed him with a stern look. “Write up your report. I want it on my desk first thing in the morning. And make sure to leave nothing out.”

“Yes, sir,” said Jackson happily. Typing up reports appeared to be his strong suit.

As they proceeded down the few steps that led to the library’s courtyard, Uncle Alec grunted, “Told you you couldn’t go in, eh?”

“Yeah, he said you told him not to let anyone in so that’s what he did. You can’t blame him, really. He’s one of those people who refuse to think for themselves.”

“He’s an idiot,” Alec grumbled. “So how did you get in?”

“Back entrance. The same way the killer got in.”

Uncle Alec darted a quick look around, but Chase had already crossed the street, where he’d parked his car, and Mom and Dad and Gran stood arguing nearby. “What did your cats find out?” Alec asked, arching an inquisitive eyebrow and lowering his voice.

“So far nothing. Except for the letter from Ackerman’s publisher.”

“Mh. Abe would have found that eventually, but you’re right. Nice work.”

Odelia didn’t mention that Max and Dooley finding that letter had been a side-effect from falling on Chris Ackerman’s head. Sometimes accidents do happen, and in this case they’d produced a new lead.

She headed for her car, and as she got in, found herself facing her grandmother, who was sitting in the passenger seat, hands folded on top of her purse. “You should lock your car,” Gran said. “It’s a small miracle no one stole it.”

“It’s just an old jalopy. No one in their right mind would steal it. What are you doing here? I thought Uncle Alec told you to go home and get some sleep?”

“And I told that old fool that I was coming with you.” She pursed her lips. “You’ve got yourself a pardner, pardner. So put this car in gear and let’s catch ourselves a killer.”

Odelia shook her head as she jammed the key into the ignition. “From what I can gather the killer has been caught already. And he’s being processed as we speak.”

Gran didn’t look convinced. “If I know Alec he probably caught the wrong ‘un. So it’s up to us to catch the right ‘un. So step on it. Time’s a-wastin’ and the real killer is escapin’.”

Odelia clenched her jaw and started the car with a roar.

Oh, boy. This was going to be a barrel of laughs.