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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.

5.5. 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.

[Ęŕđňčíęŕ: img_2]

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.

[Ęŕđňčíęŕ: img_2]

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.

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.”