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“If only those birds would sit still for one second,” Marge lamented. But of course birds being birds, they just kept fluttering about, darting from tree to tree. No consideration for the poor artist trying to capture them in a drawing.

Meanwhile, Grace was creating her own version of a bird: just a bunch of scribbly lines on her piece of paper. But she was certainly having a lot of fun.

“How are the cats?” asked Ma. “After their terrible ordeal last night?”

“Oh, they’re fine. Odelia took them all to the vet this morning, and Vena gave them a clean bill of health. They’re pretty shaken, of course, but they’ll live.”

“Even Harriet? I understood she was forcefed about a gallon of paint.”

“That was just Harriet talking. In fact she was smart enough not to lick that paint off her paws, except the odd lick here or there, so she’ll be just fine.”

“It’s horrible how a man like that can operate under the radar for so long.”

“Yeah, they should have caught him a lot sooner.”

“At least he’s not a cat killer,” said Ma, frowning as she tried to capture the essence of Marcie Trapper, whose head had just popped up over the hedge to see what her neighbors were up to.

“No, at least there’s that,” she agreed.

Gallagher Davenport might have kidnapped numerous Persians over the course of his criminal career, but he’d always treated them well, and there was no indication that he’d shortened their lifespan. On the contrary, he loved Persians so much he’d taken great pains to pamper and spoil them. And when finally they reached the end, he’d had them stuffed, which admittedly was a weird thing to do.

“So is Tex going to continue his new career as a model?” asked Ma with a sly grin at her daughter.

Marge could see how Marcie’s ears pricked up to take in her reply, so she made sure to enunciate clearly for her neighbor’s sake. “No, he’s abandoning his career as a model altogether. Once but never again, were his exact words.”

“Oh, that’s a pity. I thought he was doing a great job. And you have to admit he still looks very good for his age.”

“Mh,” said Marge, glancing in Marcie’s direction, whose head kept moving up and down like a periscope, so as to better eavesdrop on their conversation, and undoubtedly transmit everything that was said to every single person she met.

Just then, a cheerful voice intruded upon the peace and quiet of the art session in progress.

“Yoo-hoo!” the voice caroled, and Marge didn’t even have to look up to know they’d been joined by Scarlett Canyon.

“Look what I found in town,” said Scarlett, as she produced a rather large portfolio folder, the kind that is used to safely transport drawings and the like. Marge had recently acquired one to house her own work, and so had her mother.

With a flourish, Scarlett produced a sizable painting, and when she positioned it on Marge’s easel for her better appreciation, Marge gasped in shock, even as she clutched her neck. “No!” she cried.

“Yes!” Scarlett said.

“Oh, dear,” was her mother’s response.

It was a portrait of Tex, in all his glory, lying on that stage, looking for all intents and purposes like some latter-day Adonis.

“Where did you get this!” Marge said.

“Oh, they’re selling them everywhere now,” said Scarlet excitedly. This isn’t an original, of course. Just a reproduction, but whoever made this, definitely has talent, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah, they really captured Tex’s…”

“Ma!” Marge snapped.

“I was going to say Tex’s essence!”

Just then, Tex came walking into the backyard, munching a bagel. When he caught sight of the portrait, his step faltered, his jaw dropped, and so did his bagel.

“My God,” he muttered. “Oh, my God!”

“You’re a hit, Tex!” said Scarlett happily. “This is being sold everywhere.”

“No,” he said in a low voice of horror.

“Yes! They’re calling you a sex god. The new Brad Pitt. Tex Pitt, if you will.”

Tex made a sort of strangled sound, and suddenly Marge thought she heard a click. When she looked up, she just caught Marcie taking a snap of that painting with her smartphone, then quickly ducking out of sight once more.

Just before Marcie disappeared, Marge caught her big grin. The grin of a neighbor who knows she’s about to become the star of her WhatsApp group.

But then a loud scream distracted her.“Now look what she did!” Ma said, and pointed to her drawing. While they were discussing Tex’s portrait, Grace had decided to expand her territory, and had been scribbling all over Ma’s bird.

“Not bad,” said Scarlett. “You are one very talented little girl, Gracie!”

“Brap!” said Grace happily.

CHAPTER 28

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

While Tex contemplated the consequences of his actions, one backyard over art was the furthest thing from anyone’s mind. Harriet, so fervent and excited to become the new reigning queen of the art world, had decided to give up painting altogether, and had taken up to lying on a lounge chair, being waited on paw and paw by Brutus, a treatment she quite enjoyed.

After receiving the good news that she wasn’t going to die, she had decided that she’d been given a new lease on life, and so had Brutus, and it was endearing to watch the two of them whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears, and generally behave as love’s young dream. Endearing, but also cloying.

Which is why I was happy when Odelia finally was ready to leave for work, and invited me and Dooley to join her, as was her habit.

“Thank God,” I said, getting up from my position on the lawn, from where I’d had to endure this lovey-dovey scene for the past hour.

“I think Harriet did swallow too much paint, Max,” said Dooley, also getting up.

“And why is that?”

“She’s much nicer than usual. That paint must have affected her brain.”

“I think she’s simply relieved to still be alive,” I said. Though it was certainly a nice change of pace that she’d given up painting.

And as we patiently waited for Odelia to call us in so we could hop into her car, we both watched the slow march of a thousand-strong army of black beetles across our lawn in the direction of the fields that are located behind the house.

Odelia, upon learning that we’d made a deal with the beetles, had whimpered a little at the sight of the writhing mass, eager to be taken to their new place of worship. Lucky for us black beetles aren’t very picky, and when Odelia had suggested they could take to lodging in the old shed located in that particular field, they had been over the moon. Black beetles apparently enjoy moldy and rotting old wooden structures, and so for them this was paradise.

And we’d just hopped into Chase’s car, for today the two of them would join forces and conduct their investigation together, when a call came in on Chase’s mobile.

“Yes, Abe?” he said with a frown, for when a coroner calls, it’s very rarely with the kind of news that pleases. He listened for a moment, then said, “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” and hung up.

“What’s wrong?” asked Odelia, who was buckling herself in.

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me over the phone. Said he had something important to show me.”

“Oh, dear.”

It didn’t even take us fifteen minutes to get where we needed to be, and when we walked into the coroner’s office, which was familiar terrain for Dooley and myself, since we’d been there before, it soon became clear that the coroner’s news was very important indeed.

In his small office, Abe had intertwined his fingers on top of a pile of file folders, and fixed Chase with an intent look.“You remember that guy who fell out of a window two nights ago?”

“Sure. Dylon Pipe. What about him?”

“Looks like his death wasn’t an accident after all, but murder.”

“Murder!” said Odelia.

“Yeah. I didn’t notice it when I first examined him, but now that I finally got round to the full autopsy, I discovered that he actually had two head wounds. One is a minor one, consistent with a fall from that window, but the other one is on the other side of his head, and can’t possibly have been sustained at the same time, unless he fell once, then bounced and landed on his other side, which is physically impossible.” He frowned darkly. “No, it’s pretty obvious what must have happened. The kid fell down, hit his head, but wasn’t dead. Then someone else came along, and bashed his head in, making sure that this time he was dead.”

“Bashed his head in—like Jay Green, you mean,” said Chase.

“Yeah, the head wounds are very similar, so I can tell you they were almost certainly made with the same type of object.”

“A stone, like the ones found on the street.”

Abe nodded, then turned his computer to show us the screen, and proceeded to regale us with a series of pictures of the head wounds of both victims, and pointing out the similarities.

I had to look away, and so did Dooley. Cats are notoriously queasy, or at least we are, and all this blood and gore is the last thing I need in the early morning.

“So two murders,” said Chase, finally leaning back.

“That is certainly what the evidence shows,” said Abe, well satisfied with his audience’s response. Clearly he was a man who thoroughly enjoyed his work.

“Same killer?” asked Chase.

“Now you know I can’t answer that, Chase,” said Abe with an indulgent smile. “All I can tell you is that the MO is similar.”

“So what does that mean, Max?” asked Dooley.

“That means that first Dylon was killed, and the next night, his friend and co-conspirator Jay. Possibly by the same person, and the same murder weapon.”

“Coincidence?” asked Chase. “I think not.”

And that was my conclusion also. Two friends conspiring to scam the insurance, both ending up dead, killed on consecutive nights. And the necklace the whole thing revolved around? Still missing. So could the murderer of both men also be the person who stole that necklace and still had it in their possession? It was an interesting question, to be sure. And one we had to find an answer to.

CHAPTER 29

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

In the car, Odelia and Chase discussed the case, and how they needed to proceed, taking this new evidence into account.

“This whole case seems to hinge on that necklace being stolen,” was Odelia’s opinion. “So whoever took that necklace is probably also the killer.”

“Must be the person Dylon was using as an accomplice.”

“Or it could be someone completely unconnected to the case,” said Odelia. “Suppose someone was walking their dog that night, and saw Dylon take a tumble from that window. And suppose the necklace slipped from his pocket when he fell, and was just lying there, on the street. So what if this person decided, in a spur of the moment sort of thing, to pocket the necklace?”

“Yeah, but why kill Dylon?”

“Maybe Dylon wasn’t unconscious? And when this person picked up the necklace he tried to stop them, and so the thief killed Dylon in the struggle?”

“And then returned the following night to kill Jay?”

“He could be the same person who was trying to blackmail Jay, and maybe Jay met up with the guy, behind Laia’s back, and they had an argument?”

“A lot of maybes, babe,” said Chase. “I still think it’s a lot more plausible that Laia is the killer. Somehow she found out that Jay was cheating on her with his ex-girlfriend and so she decided to put a stop to that once and for all.”

“She doesn’t strike me as a killer,” said Odelia thoughtfully. “Though I can see how that would make sense, of course.”

“Though if it was Laia, she couldn’t have possibly killed Dylon,” said Chase, walking back on his own theory. “I checked with the cinema and she and Jay were definitely at the movies two nights ago.”

“Okay, so let’s look at this methodically,” Odelia suggested. “And take motive into account. Bud Zuk was upset with Laia for dumping him, so he could have decided to get even by stealing her necklace.”

“Sounds like an iffy motive for a double murder, babe.”

“Unless we’re looking at two different murderers.”

Chase groaned and rubbed his face.“Okay, keep going.”

“The problem is that Bud sprained his wrist, though he could be faking it, of course.”

“Or he could have killed Dylon with his left hand instead of his right.”

“True. And then there’s Laia’s parents, who hated her new boyfriend with a vengeance, and wouldn’t have minded seeing him dead.”

“Yeah, but would they steal back their own necklace? And why kill Dylon? They probably don’t even know the kid.”

“Okay, but we still have to go talk to them.”

“Yeah, we have to talk to all of them,” said Chase, as he started up his engine.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]

The Twine residence was an impressive manor, and we were invited to join the lady and master of the house in the living room, where we were also greeted by Laia Twine, who still looked a little pale and wan, but otherwise in fine fettle.

“I’m glad to see you’re all right, Laia,” said Odelia warmly.

“Yeah, I got discharged this morning,” said Laia. “The doctors said I suffered a great shock, but apart from that there’s nothing physically wrong with me.”

“All she needs is a lot of rest and a lot of TLC,” said Matilda Twine, who took a seat next to her daughter on the couch, and patted her hand warmly. “And we’ve got that covered, don’t we, sweetie?”

Algis Twine looked the most alive of the bunch. His face was flushed, and he had an apron tied in front of his rotund belly. Traces of flour were covering his shirt, and even his upper lip, and he announced cheerfully,“I’m making pancakes, in honor of our little girl who’s decided to move back home! Want some?”

Chase and Odelia both made confirmative noises, and the man disappeared again, to whip up some more pancakes.

“So you’ve decided to move back home?” asked Odelia.

“After what happened, I couldn’t stay in that place one minute longer,” said Laia, and shivered convulsively at the thought. “Anyway, it was Jay’s place, not mine.”

“So could you tell us what happened exactly, in your own words?” asked Chase.

“Is this really necessary?” asked Matilda.

“It’s fine, Mommy,” said Laia. “I want to help them catch whoever did this to Jay.” She frowned as she threw her mind back. “Like I told you last night, I walked into the room and found him lying there, in a pool of blood, and I knew immediately that he was dead. I must have fainted, for when I woke up—”

“At the hospital,” Chase supplied.

“Well, yes, but since I saw you last night, I’ve been thinking, and now I remember that I must have woken up briefly while I was lying there.”

“Honey, you didn’t tell us about that,” said her mom.

“No, because I thought it was just a dream, but now I’m thinking it must have been real.” She shook her head, as if trying to clear away the cobwebs. “I was lying there, and I distinctly remember someone leaning over me, and putting a finger to my neck, and now I’m thinking that whoever it was was trying to check my pulse.”

“Did you see this person’s face?” asked Odelia.

“No. I think they were wearing a mask. I’m not sure. I was half unconscious, which is why I first thought it must have been a dream, but the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that it must have been real.”

“If this person was leaning over you soon after you discovered Jay’s body,” said Chase gravely, “then that person could have been the murderer, Laia. Especially if they were wearing a mask.”

The girl shivered again, and nodded.“I know. Which is why I wanted to be sure before I told you.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” said her mother, and stroked a strand of hair from her daughter’s face. “You’re safe now.” She turned to Odelia. “One other reason why it’s better for her to stay here. What if the person who killed Jay decides to return?”

“Yeah, I’m never going back there again,” said Laia decidedly.

“There’s something else we need to tell you, Laia,” said Odelia. “And this might come as a shock.”

“Oh, please, no,” said Matilda sternly.

“Mommy, it’s fine,” Laia repeated. “Yes, what is it?” she asked, with a touch of trepidation.

“Jay had a second phone,” Chase explained. “Did you know about that?”

“A second phone? No, I didn’t know that.”

“He used it to exchange messages and calls with Loretta Everyman.”

“I knew it!” Matilda cried, slapping her thigh.

“Mommy!”

“I told you that man couldn’t be trusted, didn’t I?”

“So Jay was still in touch with Loretta? Is that what you’re saying?” asked Laia.

Odelia nodded.“Looks like they were still very much… together.”

“The texts they exchanged are pretty, well, steamy,” Chase said.

“The scoundrel!” Matilda cried, getting up and pacing the room.

Laia looked taken aback by this news.“So Jay was cheating on me with his ex?”

Both Odelia and Chase nodded.

“God,” said Laia, looking away. “I’m such a fool.”

“When we look at the messages it’s obvious that Jay was planning to take possession of the insurance money you were hoping to get for the necklace, and then leave town together with Loretta.”

Odelia looked at Matilda, but the latter simply nodded and waved an impatient hand.“I know about the necklace,” she said. “Laia has decided to come clean and tell us about the whole sordid business. We know it was all Jay’s idea.”

“So Jay was going to take that money and leave me?” asked Laia, looking crestfallen.

“Yeah, I’m afraid so,” said Odelia. “I’m very sorry, Laia.”

“God, he really played me for a sucker, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did!” her mother said emphatically. She then addressed Chase, just as sternly. “I hope you’ll have a good long talk with this Loretta. Seems to me she’s the person you should be looking for in connection to Jay’s murder and the theft of the necklace both!”

“Why would Loretta kill her boyfriend?” asked Chase. “They were planning to go away together once the insurance paid out.”

“They must have had a fight. Happens all the time. He decided to break up with her and hitch his wagon on Laia’s ride and so Loretta killed him in a fit of rage.”

“We’re definitely going to talk to Loretta,” said Chase, “but there are other suspects.”

“What suspects?” Matilda demanded.

“Well, we’ve now discovered that Dylon Pipe’s death wasn’t an accident. He was murdered.”

“Dylon was murdered?” asked Laia, shocked by this piece of news.

“I’m afraid so,” said Chase. “So now we’re looking at two murders, on two consecutive nights, presumably both in connection to your stolen necklace.”

“Which you people still haven’t found,” Matilda reminded them.

“Which brings us to another aspect of the case,” Chase went on without acknowledging Matilda’s outburst. “Dylon Pipe had a reputation in this town for being a low-level drug dealer.”

He arched an inquisitive eyebrow in Laia’s direction, who sputtered, “Well, obviously I didn’t know that, Detective.”

“Why are you looking at my daughter like that?” Matilda demanded. “She had no involvement with this Dylon Pipe character whatsoever. He was Jay’s friend, not hers.”

“You didn’t know Dylon was dealing, Laia?” asked Odelia gently.

Laia shook her head.“Absolutely not. If I had, I would have told Jay to cut all ties with him.”

“Of course my daughter didn’t know,” said Matilda. “We raised her better than to associate with drug dealers and other riffraff.”

“What riffraff?” asked Algis, who now entered carrying a plate with steaming hot pancakes. He had even more flour smeared all over his face and front.

“Jay’s best friend was a drug dealer,” said Matilda. “The one who stole my necklace.”

“My necklace,” Laia corrected her mom.

“Right now it’s still my necklace,” Matilda insisted. “At least if I ever get it back. Probably one of that drug addict’s friends must have taken it, and bashed Jay over the head in the process.”

“You’re so lucky you got out of this business with your life, honey,” said Algis.

“I know, Daddy. And I’m sorry about the necklace.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” said Algis.

“Oh, soyou think it’s fine, do you?” asked Matilda.

“It’s just money, honey! The main thing is that we’ve got our little girl back.”

Matilda didn’t seem to be fully in agreement, but she didn’t say anything. Laia continued to look stricken and apologetic, and I didn’t wonder. Not only had she lost her mom’s expensive necklace, she had also dragged her family into what now looked like a gang of crooked friends and associated drug dealers, and had risked her own life in the process.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” said Matilda, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Jay and Dylon were killed by gangsters. I mean, everyone knows that these drug people are always killing each other, so that’s what must have happened.” She eyed her daughter fixedly. “Promise me never to go back, sweetheart.”

“I already told you, Mommy. I didn’t know Dylon was a drug dealer.”

“And it wouldn’t surprise me if Jay was a drug dealer, too.”

“Okay,” said Chase, eager to wrap this up. “One last thing we need to ask: can you tell us where you both were last night?”

It took a moment for Algis and Matilda to realize he was addressing them, but when she finally did, Matilda burst out,“You’re not accusingus of murdering that good-for-nothing drug addict, are you!”

“I’m not accusing you of anything, Mrs. Twine, but these are routine questions that need to be cleared up.”

“Well, I never,” said the woman, giving Chase a look that could kill.

“It’s all right,” said Algis. “We were both here last night, watching television, until that dreadful call came in, telling us that our little girl had been taken to the hospital.”

“The biggest fright of my life,” said Matilda, clutching at her neck.

“And where were you last night, Laia?” asked Odelia.

“Why do you want to know where my daughter was?” asked Algis, who’d been sampling one of his own pancakes, eagerly gobbling it down in one piece.

“Yes, hasn’t she suffered enough?” demanded Matilda, planting her hands on her sides.

“I was out with a friend last night,” said Laia quietly.

“Name of that friend?” asked Chase dutifully. And when Laia had supplied the information, plus the friend’s phone number, in spite of her mom and dad’s protestations, Chase closed his notebook and nodded to the girl. “Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Twine.”

“Will that be all?” asked Matilda with a touch of belligerence.

“Here, have a pancake,” said Algis, holding up the plate. “They’re fresh!”

But his wife snatched the plate away.“There will be no pancakes,” she said. “Not until you’ve apologized for accusing us of these monstrous acts of villainy.”

“Mommy! They’re simply doing their job!” Laia said.

“Well, they should be doing a better job,” Matilda insisted stubbornly. “And bring me back my necklace, for a start!”

I think it’s safe to say we were all glad to finally leave the company of the Twines and drive away from the place.

“Now I understand why Laia decided to leave home,” said Odelia as she blew out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, Matilda Twine is a pretty tough baby,” Chase agreed.

“Why didn’t we get to have a pancake, Max?” asked Dooley.

“For one thing, pancakes are full of sugar, and therefore not very good for cats, Dooley,” I said. “And for another, Laia’s mom didn’t want us to have any pancakes.”

“But why not?”

“Because she doesn’t like us very much. She thought we were accusing her daughter of murder, and that’s not something a mother enjoys.”

He thought about this, then said,“I think she was right. It’s not a lot of fun when people drop by and accuse you of murder.”

“We didn’t actually accuse her of anything,” I said. “We just asked her some questions, trying to shed some light on past events.”

“Yes, but still. If someone dropped by the house and accused Grace of being a murderer, Odelia wouldn’t like it either, and Chase wouldn’t bake them any pancakes.”

I smiled.“I don’t think Grace is capable of murder, Dooley. She’s too young for that sort of thing.”

“She did murder Gran’s drawing this morning.”

“That, she most certainly did.” Though some would say she actually improved on Gran’s work. But I’d never say that out loud, of course.

I didn’t want to become the victim of caticide, you see.

CHAPTER 30

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Once more we found ourselves at our local supermarket, though this time, with the presence of Chase, the interview had a slightly more formal aspect. No more standing in line at the checkout counter, and hoping Loretta Everyman would be gracious enough to give us the light of day. This time we caught the young lady on her smoking break, standing outside at the back of the supermarket, right next to the gate where a ten-ton truck was being unloaded.

“Now what do you want?” asked Loretta, as friendly and forthcoming as before.

“Chase Kingsley,” said Chase, flashing his badge. “Hampton Cove police. And I believe you’ve already met my wife Odelia. We wanted to ask you a couple of questions, Miss Everyman.”

Loretta still looked as if she’d just sucked on a lemon, but at least she became more talkative. The miracle of the badge, I guess.

“Okay, so, yeah, Jay and I were still an item,” she admitted when confronted with her boyfriend’s text messages—or sext messages, as the vernacular goes. “But that doesn’t mean I killed him. I mean, why would I do such a crazy thing? I loved the guy, for crying out loud. I would never hurt him.”

“Is it true that you were planning to leave town once the insurance paid out the money for the necklace?”

“Yeah, that was the plan,” she said, then sighed. “Or at least Jay’s plan. I never said I agreed with it. It seemed a little rough on Laia, and probably criminal. The Twines are a pretty powerful family around here, and I’m sure they would have come after us if we’d taken that money.”She frowned into the middle distance. “Which is why I’ve taken my precautions.”

“What do you mean, precautions?” asked Odelia curiously.

“Well, they got to Jay, didn’t they? And they’re bound to come for me next.”

“Who’s coming for you?”

“The Twines, of course. Who else? They know we stole from them, and now they’re getting even.”

“But… you didn’t take the necklace, did you?” asked Chase, confused.

“No, of course not. That was Dylon’s job. He was supposed to steal the necklace, Jay was going to deal with the insurance, and then we were going to skip town with the money, and make sure the necklace ended up in Laia’s hands again. So the Twines wouldn’t come after us. But then the whole thing fell apart. First Dylon died, then the necklace went missing, and then they killed Jay.”

“The thing is, Loretta,” said Odelia, “that we now have reason to believe that Dylon was also killed, and possibly by the same person who killed Jay.”

Loretta stared at her for a moment, her mouth open, then she snapped it closed, a determined look in her eyes.“Well, that does it. If you don’t give me police protection now you’ll have the blood of an innocent woman on your hands pretty darn soon.”

“What do you mean?” asked Chase.

“God, man, do you have to spell it out for you? They killed them both! First they murdered Dylon, for stealing their necklace, and then Jay. And that necklace is safely back in the family vault by now.” She snapped the ash off her cigarette. “Don’t mess with the Twines. The message is clearnow, isn’t it?”

“But how would the Twines know about the plan you and Jay and Dylon were hatching?” asked Odelia.

“I don’t know. But they must have found out somehow. Maybe Dylon blabbed, and word got back to the Twines, or maybe Laia told her mommy and daddy, and they decided to intervene.” She narrowed her eyes. “Though now that I think about it, it could have been Laia herself. If she knew about me and Jay. I mean, you know what those rich girls are like. They think they can get away with murder.”

“Laia has a solid alibi for both murders,” Chase pointed out.

“Then it was the Twines. Mark my words, if they’re not stopped, more killings will happen, with me number one on their hit list.”

It all seemed a little far-fetched, and I had the impression she was trying to cover her own part in the scheme. Which is perhaps why she got so belligerent when Chase asked where she was last night and the night before.

“What are you harassing me for! I didn’t do this. Go talk to the Twines!”

Which probably was her way of telling us she didn’t have an alibi.

Her smoking break was at an end, and her manager came looking for her, insisting she went back to work.

“Well? Aren’t you going to arrest me?” she asked, holding out her hands and offering her wrists.

When Chase declined to offer her the courtesy of a fine set of manacles, she made a scoffing sound and returned inside.

“Nice attitude,” said Chase once Loretta was gone.

“Yeah, she’s not exactly cooperative, is she?”

“Let’s just put this one in the no alibi column.”

“She made the Twines sound like a family fromTheGodfather,” said Odelia. “Which doesn’t strike me as being the case.”

“No, Algis Twine isn’t exactly Don Corleone,” Chase said with a smile. “Unless he’s taken to baking pancakes for his gang.” He checked his watch. “Talking about gangs, I think it’s time we had a little chat with Tyrone Friday.”

“Who’s Tyrone Friday?” asked Odelia as we headed back to the car.

“I’m glad you ask,” said Chase as he placed an arm around his wife. “Tyrone is, or was, Dylon’s supplier. Though we’ve had a hard time pinning anything on him. Tyrone is by way of being a local kingpin in the drug trade. And so if anyone knows what Dylon was involved in, it would be Mr.Friday.”

“A real gangster,” said Odelia. She glanced down at us. “Maybe I should leave the cats in the car for this one.”

“Not a chance!” I cried.

“I want to see the drug kingpin!” Dooley yelled.

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Chase. “Tyrone wouldn’t hurt a fly. It’s the people who work for him you should worry about, not Tyrone himself, who’s a real pussycat.”

“Tyrone is a pussycat?” asked Dooley, confused. “Gee, I had no idea that a cat could also be a drug kingpin, Max.” Then he added, “What is a drug kingpin?”

“The man in charge of the local drug trade,” I said. “In other words, the big honcho, the big cheese, the man up top.”

“Can’t wait to see him,” said Dooley. “Maybe we can invite him for cat choir.”

CHAPTER 31

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

Turned out that Tyrone Friday owned a restaurant that was called, very uninspired, I thought, Tyrone’s Place. And it was there that we found the big man.

Chase explained that most criminals of Mr. Friday’s level own many legal businesses, which they use as a front for their criminal activities, and also to launder some of that black money they make by selling drugs and other stuff.

Tyrone himself was a very nice guy of about Tex’s age, looking more like a favorite uncle than a drug kingpin.

“Oh, Mr. Kingsley!” he said the moment we set paw inside his place of business. “Come in, come in! What can I offer you?”

“I’m good, thanks,” said Chase, holding up a hand in defiance of the man’s hospitality. “I’m afraid we’re here on official police business, Tyrone.”

“Well, isn’t that too bad. I really was hoping this was a social call.”

The man had one of those round faces that was surrounded by a fringe of hair all around, and a sort of stripe in the middle that was his mustache. It made for a nicely symmetrical view, which is always pleasing to the eye.

“So what’s this about?” asked Tyrone, once we are all seated at his table. Well, the humans were seated, while Dooley and I remained with our paws firmly on the floor.

“Dylon Pipe,” said Chase curtly.

“Oh, terrible business,” said Tyrone, shaking his head. “Such a waste. He was a great talent. In fact I own several of his paintings.” He pointed to a painting that hung just above us. It was a beach scene, with many colorful umbrellas. It wasn’t much to look at, but then of course I’m not an expert. “An original Dylon Pipe,” said Tyrone proudly. “And of course, sad as it makes me to say this, it will probably increase in value now that the artist has died.” He spread his arms, palms upward. “But then I guess such is life.”

“You don’t think he killed Dylon just so he could make his paintings go up in value, do you, Max?” asked Dooley.

“I doubt it, Dooley. For one thing, I don’t think Dylon’s work is all that valuable to begin with. And a hundred percent increase of nothing is still nothing.”

“Rumor has it that Dylon was doing more for you than merely decorating your restaurant, Tyrone,” said Chase.

“Oh, that’s right. He worked the kitchen from time to time. Dishwasher, you know. The kid couldn’t cook, but he could wash a mean dish.” And he grinned widely, as if he’d just told the funniest joke.

“You know what I mean.”

Tyrone quickly sobered.“Look, Detective, suppose just for a moment that Dylon did work for me in the capacity I think you’re implying, now why would that be relevant to the way he died?”

“Because your line of business isn’t exactly without risk, is it, Tyrone?”

“The restaurant business?” he asked innocently. “No, I guess you could say there’s some risk attached to what I do. Plenty of competition and a fickle clientele.”

“Oh, cut the crap, Tyrone. You know perfectly well what I mean.”

The restaurateur smiled a fine smile.“Okay, so suppose I do know what you mean, now why would I be implicated in that young man’s death?”

“You tell me.”

“No, you tell me. Give me one good reason why I would want Dylon dead.”

“Maybe he owed you money?”

“And why would I murder a man who owed me money? Dead men don’t pay, Detective. So that would be a very stupid thing to do, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Okay, so maybe he stole from you? Took more than he was owed?”

“Once again, what would I gain by killing a man, even if he did steal from me? Wouldn’t it be a lot smarter to make him pay up?”

“You could be sending a message to some of your other… collaborators. To discourage them from doing the same thing?”

“Look, I know what you’re driving at, Detective,” said Tyrone, rubbing his rather rotund belly, “but I can assure you, this is no way to do business. At least it’s not the way I do business. If someone steals from me, I don’t go around bashing their brains in. It doesn’t work like that. Do I make sure they compensate me? Of course. But I do so in a civilized manner. Not with murder!” And he laughed, as if the mere notion was ludicrous, which perhaps it was to him.

He certainly didn’t look like a vicious killer. More like a fun Santa Claus.

“Look, I can see that you’re stuck, Detective,” said Tyrone finally. “Which is why you came to me. Because if you weren’t stuck, you’d know that I couldn’t possibly be involved in this nasty business. And now I hear a second man was murdered.” He shook his head. “Absolutely not mystyle. So I’m going to do you a favor. I’m going to give you the name of the person I think might be involved.” And he took a piece of paper and wrote down a name and slid it across the table.

“Bronson Shagreen?” asked Chase. “Who’s he?”

“An artist, like Dylon. And from what Dylon told me, not his biggest fan.”

CHAPTER 32

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We found Bronson Shagreen, the artist, at Town Hall, where he was instrumental in creating a unique work of art to enliven the main atrium, the place most citizens see when they pay a visit there for Town Hall business.

When we arrived, Charlene was there to welcome us, and introduce us to Bronson. The young man was standing on a scaffolding, which covered the entire atrium wall, and was painting something near the ceiling. It was hard to see what it was, but once it was finished, Charlene said it was going to blow us all away.

“I probably shouldn’t say this,” said Charlene, “but originally Jay Green won the competition, but when he died we decided to give Bronson a chance. And his work is just amazing. I actually thought he was far superior and more suitable than Jay, but I wasn’t the only member of the jury, and the majority always decides. So in a sense Jay’s death was a blessing in disguise.”

“What competition?” asked Chase.

“The town council organized an art competition,” Odelia explained, who had written about it. “To find the most promising local young artist. The winner gets to create an art installation right here at Town Hall, and his work will be publicized in the council newsletter.”

“Great publicity for the artist,” said Charlene. “And for Hampton Cove, of course, since it will put us on the map as the artistic capital of Long Island.”

“And so Jay originally won the competition?” said Chase, exchanging a look with his wife.

“Yeah, some people thought he was great, but I wasn’t one of them. I always thought his work was too pat. Too slick. Of course it’s all a matter of taste, isn’t it?”

Bronson, who had climbed down from his high perch, greeted the newcomers with a pleasant grin. He was clean-cut and athletic, and didn’t look like any artist I’d ever seen. More like a sportsman. Though of course one didn’t exclude the other.

“Chase and Odelia are with the police department,” Charlene explained, making the necessary introductions. “And they would like to ask you a couple of questions about the death of Dylon Pipe and Jay Green.”

Just then, Gran walked in, carrying a large portfolio folder under her arm. When she saw Charlene, she made a beeline for the Mayor.“Glad that I caught you,” she said. “I want to apply for that new grant.”

“Oh, that’s… great,” said Charlene, reluctantly accepting the large folder from her boyfriend’s mom. “What is it?”

“A nude,” said Gran. “I think you’ll like it,” she added with a wink.

Charlene swallowed a little convulsively when she saw that it was actually a nude portrait of Odelia’s dad. “Did you paint this?” she asked.

“Of course I painted this. What do you think?”

Charlene touched her hand to the painting.“It doesn’t feel like an original.”

“Well, it is. I had another one ready to go, a real masterpiece, buther daughter ruined it.” At this, she directed a disapproving glance at her granddaughter.

Charlene grimaced, and quickly tucked the painting away again.“Well, thanks, Vesta. I’ll certainly take your candidacy into consideration.”

“What are you talking about? You can see this is an excellent piece of original art, so you can give me my grant right now. I could use the money.”

“It doesn’t work like that and you know it, Vesta,” said Charlene. “But I’ll certainly add you to the list of candidates. Thelong list of candidates,” she added.

Gran grumbled something that wasn’t fit for print, then stalked off.

“What grant is this?” asked Chase.

“Oh, it’s a new project we’re launching in conjunction with Bronson’s art installation. We’re integrating the work of local artists all across town, in many different locations, and so we’re looking for candidates to put their work forward. Auditions run for three months, and a dozen artists will be chosen who can pick a spot, in consultation with a panel of experts, of course, to display their work.”

“I think it’s so great you’re doing this,” said Bronson. “A very novel approach.”

“It’s important that we keep trying to make Hampton Cove stand out as the jewel in the Hamptons crown that it is,” said Charlene with a touch of pride. “Okay, so I’ll leave you to it, then,” she added, and started to walk away. But just when she did, Scarlett walked in, also with a large portfolio folder under her arm, which she handed to the Mayor. Charlene opened the wallet, caught a glimpse of yet another partially nude Tex Poole, blanched, and closed it again. She plastered a polite smile onto her face. “Thanks, Scarlett. I’ll be sure to add you to the list.”

“That’s all I ask,” said Scarlett. “Though I think you’ll find that I’ve created a unique work of art that really captures the spirit of Hampton Cove perfectly.”

“Yes. Yes, I can see that,” said Charlene, though she seemed a lot less sanguine about the uniqueness of this spirit than the artist in front of her.

“Well, see you,” said Scarlett, and gave us all a cheerful wave and was off again.

Finally Charlene walked away with some difficulty, since she now had to carry two large portfolio folders, both containing what I was almost certain were the same reproductions that were for sale all over town right now. One person had apparently snapped a picture of Tex two nights ago, had turned it into a painting, and was selling prints of the doctor’s portrait to anyone who wanted it.

“Bronson,” said Chase, as he directed his attention to the young artist.

“Detective?” said Bronson anxiously. No one enjoys a police interview, and Bronson Shagreen was obviously no exception.

“What are you painting?” asked Odelia, trying to break the ice a little.

“Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it?” said the artist with a smile.

“I wonder if he’ll do the ceiling, too,” said Dooley. “Like Michelangelo? He did a fine job at that Sistine Chapel, didn’t he?”

“What do you know about Michelangelo and the Sistine Chapel?” I asked.

“Well, there was this documentary about him. Gran saw it, too, and she said if a useless dauber like Michelangelo could attract so much attention by splashing some paint across some ceiling, she’d have no trouble blowing him out of the water with her own work. Which I guess she just did, with her contribution to this grant business.”

“I think her contribution won’t blow anyone out of the water,” I said dubiously.

“So we have it on good authority that you and Dylon were great friends?” said Chase, opening proceedings.

“I wouldn’t say that,” said Bronson. “More acquaintances. We met in art school, you see. Me and Dylon and Jay were all in the same class, and we also applied for this same installation,” he said, gesturing to the ceiling-high scaffolding.

“So you and Dylon and Jay were in competition over this art installation?”

“Yeah, but it was a healthy competition, I can assure you.”

“Which Jay Green won.”

“Which Jay won, with Dylon second and me third.”

“Plenty of prestige associated with such an installation, I imagine?”

“Oh, absolutely. When you can show your work to such a large audience, it’s always interesting for a new artist. And of course we’re hoping the media will turn up en masse for the big opening.” He directed a hopeful smile at Odelia, our resident reporter. But then the meaning of Chase’s words registered. “Oh, you’re suggesting I killed Jay and Dylon so I could take first place in the competition?”

Chase didn’t respond but merely crooked a meaningful eyebrow.

“But that’s simply absurd,” said Bronson. “I wanted to win, sure, but I would never murder my friends.”

“But you just told us they weren’t actually your friends.”

He wiped away a bead of perspiration from his brow.“Look, I’ll be honest with you, Detective. Me and Jay didn’t get along very well. I admit that.”

“And why was that?”

“Jay was… I want to say, a grifter? Always looking for an angle, you know. Always looking for a way to get rich. All he talked about was becoming rich and famous one day. While for me art isn’t a way to get rich quick. It’s more a way of life. Of course I would love it if I could create thekind of art that is appreciated by a large audience, but if it isn’t, that’s all right, too. But to Jay the only reason he became an artist was to be fabulously wealthy, and that didn’t sit well with me.”

“And Dylon?”

“Dylon was all right. I liked him. Though he did have substance abuse issues, which caused him to disappear from time to time, and which had a big impact on his capacity to be creative, as you can imagine.”

“Okay, so you admit you were in competition with Jay and Dylon.”

“Yes, but there’s nothing wrong with that. That’s the nature of these competitions. I wanted to be selected for this opportunity, and so did Dylon and Jay. But at the end of the day, the best person won, and I was fine with that.”

“Jay was the victim of a harassment campaign,” said Odelia. “He was being sent all kinds of stuff that he didn’t order, but that he was expected to pay for. And his name was being used to create online dating profiles on different websites, causing complete strangers to call him and bombardhim with messages.”

“And let’s not forget about that burning bag of dog doo-doo,” said Chase. He gave the young artist a penetrating look that made the kid wilt. “Did you have anything to do with that, Bronson?”

The kid blinked, a droplet of sweat falling from the tip of his nose.“Well… yes, I may have had something to do with some of that.”

“Which part? The packages? Or the dating profiles?”

“The bag of doo-doo?” he said weakly.

“Oh, so you thought it would be a good idea to leave a burning bag on Jay’s doorstep, did you?” said Chase sternly.

“Well… I thought it was a good joke, yes,” the kid said, in a sort of quiet voice. He glanced down at his feet, his face flushed. “Okay, so look, I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I was drunk, and upset that Jay had won the competition, so yeah, I left that bag there, and watched as hetried to put it out.” His face flushed even more. “And I’m sorry, okay? It was very childish and very stupid of me.”

“What about the packages? And the dating sites?”

“That wasn’t me.”

“Or the blackmail?” asked Odelia.

The young man looked up.“What blackmail?”

“Jay received a letter trying to blackmail him.” She produced a picture of the letter on her phone.

Bronson read it and shook his head.“‘I know what you did?’ I don’t even know what that means.”

“So you didn’t send this letter?”

“No, of course not. All I did was the burning bag, that’s all. I didn’t send any packages, or sign Jay up for any dating sites, or send him this letter. And I most definitely did not murder him or Dylon.”

“Okay, Bronson, tell us where you were last night, and the night before.”

Bronson claimed that he was Skyping with his mom on both nights, which was admirable, of course. And since his mom lived in Alaska, not something that was all that easy to verify. He didn’t strike me as a killer, though, and he was a lousy liar, as his sweaty and flushed face could attest. Then again, he did have an excellent motive for killing both men.

The moment Bronson was back up on his scaffolding, slaving away on his big assignment, Charlene returned to have a chat with us.

“I really hope you clear up this murder business soon,” she confessed. “We’re being bombarded with complaints by angry citizens from the Cobblestone Committee. Now they’re accusing the town of gross negligence, and somehow have made the assumption that we had something to do with these murders.”

“How do they figure that?” asked Odelia.

“I have no idea! But since they got wind of the fact that both men were probably murdered with cobblestones, it’s more grist to the mill for these people.”

“Are you going to drop the cobblestone and go with asphalt?” asked Chase.

“You don’t understand,” said Charlene. “It was the neighborhood who asked us to redo the street with cobblestone. They wanted to create a more upscale feel, and discourage traffic from passing through their street. But once they realized that cobblestones are noisy, they changed their minds, and now a majority is against the plans. But we can’t pivot like that. The budget was approved, plans were made, a contractor selected, materials bought and paid for, so abandoning the project would cost us a lot of money—would cost the community a lot of money.” She sighed. “It’s not always fun to be mayor, let me tell you.” But then another person showed up to show their work, and we said our goodbyes.

From what I could tell, it was yet another portrait of a familiar doctor…

CHAPTER 33

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“Tex is really popular, isn’t he, Max?” said Dooley.

“Yes, and becoming more popular by the hour,” I said.

“Three people have already entered his portrait for the art grant. So he’ll probably be chosen, and then he really will be all over town.”

“I very much doubt that Charlene will enter him into the competition,” I said. “These art installations will represent Hampton Cove, and it probably wouldn’t give a good impression if the first thing tourists see is a painting of a nude doctor.”

“He’s not entirely nude, though, Max. He was wearing his boxers.”

“Thank God for small favors.”

We were back in Uncle Alec’s office, where Odelia and Chase were required to report to the Chief about any recent developments in their joint investigation.

“Okay, so at least the paper bag business has been cleared up,” said the Chief, leaning back, and causing his office chair to creak under his sizable bulk. “And I’ve got a piece of news for you. The tech department has managed to discover the identity of the person responsible for creating those fake dating site profiles and also for the fake profiles ordering a ton of stuff online.” He drummed his fingertips on his desk for effect. “And the name they came up with is Bud Zuk.”

“So Jay was right,” said Odelia. “The first time he and Laia came into the office he told me he thought her ex-boyfriend might be behind this, and he was.”

“Which doesn’t mean he’s also our killer,” Chase was quick to point out.

“No, but it certainly makes him a pretty good suspect in my view,” said the Chief. “And one other important development: uniform talked to a witness at the scene on Tucker Street, who said she saw a woman hanging around Jay and Laia’s building around the time that blackmail letter arrived.” He arched his eyebrows meaningfully, and I could tell that he loved this part of his job. When the pieces of the puzzle finally started to fall into place.

“Spit it out, Chief,” Chase growled, impatient.

“Laney Basula.”

“Dylon’s girlfriend?”

“One and the same. So I suggest,” he said, leaning in and placing his beefy arms on his blotter, “that you have another little chat with both Mr. Zuk and Miss Basula. And this time make sure they tell you the truth.”

[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]

We met Laia’s ex-boyfriend at his club, as before, though I wondered why a tennis pro who couldn’t play tennis on account of his injury would still be hanging out at his club. But then I guess a tennis club is probably about more than simply playing tennis. It’s also about meeting friends and influencing people.

Bud didn’t seem particularly thrilled to see us, though he was gracious enough about it. No one likes to be paid a visit by the constabulary at his place of business, of course. It might set tongues wagging and before you know it you’re a tennis pro no more.

“So what is it this time?” he asked, affecting a sort of faux cheerful attitude. “Another murder I didn’t commit?”

But Chase decided that pictures speak louder than words, and so he placed his phone on the table in front of the young man, and showed him some evidence of the person who was behind the recent harassment campaign, IP address and all.

Chase had been right, for Bud paled beneath his tan, and when he spoke again, it was with nothing of his earlier brawn.“Okay, so yeah, I did do that,” he said.

“You made fake profiles of Jay Green on several dating sites, and also several major online retailers, and then you ordered expensive items and had them shipped to Jay’s address, and also connected with several women, telling them to send Jay messages on his phone and call him at all hours of the day or night. Is that what you did?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I did,” Bud confessed, without raising his eyes to meet the cop’s. “When Laia broke up with me I guess I went a little crazy. So I decided to get even with the guy.”

“And so you started harassing him, until finally even that wasn’t enough, and you paid him a visit one night, and bashed his head in with a rock.”

This time the tennis pro did look up, alarmed.“Hey, no way, man. You’re not pinning that on me. Okay, so I messed with him a little, but I didn’t kill the guy.”

“And we’re supposed to take your word for that, after you lied to us?”

“Where were you last night, Bud?” asked Odelia.

“I was right here, having dinner with members of the board. I’m secretary of the board, you see, and…” It was as if the light suddenly came shining through. “But of course! I was here! I have witnesses. I have an alibi!” Several club members were eyeing him with unveiled curiosity, and so he quickly lowered his voice and tamped down his exuberance. “I couldn’t have done it, see? I was here when it happened, wasn’t I?”

“You understand we’ll have to confirm your alibi?”

“Of course! Ask anyone!” Then his face fell. “Or maybe don’t ask anyone. Just ask the president of the club. He’s my dad. He’ll confirm I was here all evening. The rest have no business with my personal business.” And to emphasize his statement, he stared intently at one of the peoplemost interested in eavesdropping on our conversation, until the person finally shrugged and looked away.

“Look, I know I’ve been a damn fool,” said Bud, “but I love Laia. I’ve always loved her, and when she hooked up with Jay I was worried, really worried.”

“What were you so worried about?” asked Chase.

“The guy was an artist, for crying out loud. And we all know what artists are like. Drunks, drug addicts and libertines, every last one of them. Smoking dope all night, organizing orgies, sucking down the booze by the gallon… And I didn’t want that for my Laia.” His face suddenly took on a sort of angelic expression, and he slowly rose to his feet. And when we looked over, we saw that none other than Laia herself was on final approach, and soon landed at our table.

“Oh, hi, Odelia,” said the young woman. “Detective Kingsley. I was supposed to have lunch with Bud, but if you need him, maybe we can postpone.”

“No postponing!” Bud almost yelled, but then settled down to a lower volume once more. “I think I’ve told you everything I know,” he said, and gave Chase such a pleading look that even the hardened cop couldn’t remain unaffected.

“Enjoy your lunch,” he said, and got up.

“Have you found the person who killed Jay and Dylon?” asked Laia.

“The investigation is still ongoing,” said Chase.

“If I were you I’d take a closer look at the person who sent us that blackmail letter,” she said. “People like that can be very dangerous. I’ve been reading about blackmailers, and it often leads to murder.”

“Thank you for the suggestion,” said Chase courteously, and then we left the two young people to enjoy their lunch.

“Do you think they’re a couple again, Max?” asked Dooley.

“I don’t know, Dooley, but it’s certainly something that Bud wants more than anything.”

“Maybe now that Laia has been badly burned in love, she’ll decide that Bud wasn’t so bad after all,” said my friend, the love expert.

CHAPTER 34

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On the floor of Laney Basula’s messy flat, a suitcase was lying, half-filled with items of clothing.

“Going somewhere?” asked Chase as he cut her a censorious look.

But if he thought she’d wilt under such a transparent tactic he was mistaken. Instead, she tilted her chin and said, “I’ve got nothing left here in this rotten town, Detective, so why not leave? Who’s going to stop me? You?”

“You do realize that you’re a suspect in a murder investigation,” Chase pointed out. “And so I have to advise you not to leave town.”

She grumbled something that didn’t sound very friendly, then plunked herself down on a ratty sofa, and proceeded to freely glare at Chase. “Have you come to arrest me?”

“We’ve just learned that you were seen hanging around Jay Green’s apartment around the time this blackmail letter was delivered.” He held out his phone to show her the blackmail letter in person, but she merely shrugged.

“So?”

“So did you deliver this letter?”

She rolled her eyes.“Look, you already know I did, so just cut the theatricals, will you?”

“Why did you send this letter, Laney?” asked Odelia, adopting a more kindly tone than her detective counterpart. It’s called good cop, bad cop, and Odelia excels at being the good part of this gambit.

Laney studied her fingernails, which weren’t anything to write home about, I have to say. Apparently she’d done a lot of chewing on them, presumably because it’s a lot cheaper than visiting a nail salon and having a pro take a whack at them.

“Me and Dylon were counting on that money,” she now said. “But of course I should have expected Jay to double-cross us. That’s the way he rolled.”

“Jay double-crossed you?”

“Of course he did. When Dylon didn’t arrive home that night, I immediately knew something was wrong. And when it turned out he didn’t have the necklace on him, I knew that somehow Jay must have pulled a switcheroo of some kind. Keep the necklace and still collect that insurance money so he’d collect twice.”

“But Jay wasn’t home on the night your boyfriend burgled his apartment,” Chase pointed out.

She shrugged.“I don’t know how he did it, but somehow he did. He was devious like that, Jay was. Dylon used to tell me stories about him.”

“What stories?” asked Odelia. When Laney didn’t immediately respond, she added, “It’s important, Laney. What stories?”

“I remember one story very distinctly. Dylon told me several times. Back when him and Jay were still in school, they used to pull pranks on the other students. You have to remember that Jay was very competitive. He always had to win, no matter what, and so once when they all had to enter an assignment for some important project, one kid came up with something brilliant. Something so amazing that he was a shoo-in for the top spot. So of course Jay couldn’t have that. And so he roped Dylon into destroying that kid’s assignment. Really tearing it to pieces so on the morning of the big reveal, when they pulled back the sheets from their assignments, the kid’s assignment turned out to be just a pile of paper cuttings. Poor kid completely broke down. He even accused Jay and Dylon, but all they got was a slap on the wrist. I told Dylon he was a bastard for pulling such a stunt, and he agreed. Said he felt sorry for the kid, but Jay had such a hold over him that he just couldn’t say no. And that’s always been the dynamic between those two. Jay came up with something, and Dylon had to do his dirty work.”

“Which is why you think Jay pulled a fast one on Dylon,” said Odelia, nodding.

“He must have. What else could have happened to that necklace?” She idly played with the strings of her hoodie. “I guess I can tell you now. It doesn’t matter now that Dylon is gone. We weren’t going to deliver that necklace to Jay. Instead we were simply going to keep it and leave town. Dylon figured Jay owed him, and he thought it would net us a nice chunk of change. So when Dylon ended up dead, I just figured Jay owed me for what happened to him, which is why I ended up sending him that blackmail letter.”

“Who was the kid whose assignment was destroyed?” asked Odelia.

“I don’t remember. Dylon must have mentioned his name, but honestly I can’t remember now.”

CHAPTER 35

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“I don’t think Jay was a very nice person, Max,” said Dooley, once we were back in the car.

“No, I don’t think so either,” I agreed.

“Maybe we should tell Laia. That way she won’t be so sad.”

“I don’t know if it works like that,” I said. “Even though her fianc? wasn’t a nice man, that doesn’t mean she will be less sad that he’s dead, Dooley.”

“Oh,” said my friend, giving this some thought. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said after a few moments’ reflection. “If you were murdered and later on someone told me you were a bad cat, I’d still feel very sad that you were dead, Max.”

“That’s… very gratifying to hear, Dooley.”

“It must have been Bronson,” said Odelia.

“There’s a very simple way to find out,” said Chase, and took out his phone.

“Who are you calling?” asked Odelia, but the cop held up a finger, then spoke into his phone.

“Mr. Servais? Jake Servais? I hope I’m not interrupting anything, sir. My name is Chase Kingsley and I’m a detective with the Hampton Cove police department. I was hoping you might remember an incident that took place several years ago. One of your students, Jay Green, pulled a prank on another student, destroying his assignment. This young man took this prank very badly. Oh, you remember it well? Would you also remember the name of the student whose work was destroyed?” He listened for a moment, then gave Odelia a knowing look, and said, “Thank you very much, sir. You’ve been a tremendous help.” After he hung up, he said, “It was Bronson Shagreen, all right. His parents even filed a complaint with the school board, and Jay and Dylon were suspended for two weeks for the stunt.”

“I think we better have another chat with Bronson,” said Odelia, buckling up. “Sounds to me like he hasn’t been completely honest with us.”

“Poor man,” said Dooley as Chase put the car in gear. “He must have been very sad when his work was destroyed.”

“Yes, but was he so sad that he decided, many years later, to murder his tormentors?” I asked.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]

When we arrived at Town Hall, we found Bronson in the same place as before: still working hard on his new art installation, as commissioned by Charlene.

“Mr. Shagreen!” Chase called out. Not too loud, of course. We didn’t want the guy to topple down from his scaffolding and break his neck.

“Oh, you’re back,” said Bronson. He didn’t look overjoyed.

“We have some more questions for you, sir,” said Chase.

“More questions?” Bronson grumbled. “It’s very hard for an artist to focus on his art when people keep popping up like this,” he said, but he still came crawling down to assist us in our inquiries.

“We just talked to your old school principal, Mr. Servais,” said Chase.

Bronson didn’t even flinch. “Yes?”

“And he told us that in your fifth year your assignment was destroyed by two of your fellow students. Jay Green and Dylon Pipe.”

Bronson nodded.“That’s right. Not one of my best memories.”

“Perhaps you should have told us when we interviewed you earlier?”

He shrugged.“I didn’t think it was relevant.”

“The two men who destroyed your work were both brutally murdered, Mr. Shagreen. And you didn’t think what they did to you was relevant?”

“Okay, all right. I should have told you. But you’ll understand that I didn’t exactly want to be reminded of such a traumatic event.”

“Oh, so it was traumatic for you, was it?”

“What do you think?” the young artist said with some vehemence. “I worked hard on that assignment. Weeks of late nights. I put everything—my heart and my soul into that assignment. Only to see it completely destroyed by those two idiots.”

“Your parents filed a complaint with the school board?”

“Yeah, they did. Not that it did a lot of good. They both got off with a two-week suspension, and that was it. Oh, they apologized, of course, but I could tell from their smirks that they were proud of what they did to me. And because I lost so much time, and my heart wasn’t really in it the second time, my replacement assignment got a low score, which caused Jay to get the top grade that year, which of course is what it was all about in the first place.”

“You still seem very bitter about the whole experience,” Odelia remarked.

“Yes, of course I’m still bitter. It was a horrible thing to do.”

“So when Jay and Dylon came in first and second place for this new art installation here, the decision by the town council must have rankled?”

He grimaced.“Yes, it did. And I’m not denying that. And of course Jay being Jay, he decided to rub my face in it, just for old time’s sake. Sent me a message after the decision was announced, wishing me all the best, and adding that he hoped I wasn’t a sore loser.”

“I think we better continue this conversation at the station,” said Chase.

Bronson gulped a little.“You’re not… arresting me, are you?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“But I told you I was Skyping with my mom when Jay and Dylon were killed.”

“I talked to your mom, Bronson,” said Chase, not unkindly, I thought, since he probably understood the poor kid’s motive for killing his two former fellow students. “And she was honest with me. She told me she hadn’t heard from you in weeks. Said you were probably too busy with your art, as usual.”

“But…”

“Did you really think we wouldn’t check your alibi, Bronson?”

“Or did you think your mom would lie for you?” asked Odelia.

“No, but…” The kid was sweating profusely again, clearly deeply impressed by his impending arrest. “Look, I do have an alibi, but I promised not to tell anyone.”

“Of course you did,” said Chase, clearly not believing a word Bronson was saying. “Okay, let’s go,” he said, and took out a pair of shiny handcuffs.

I think Bronson panicked a little, for he suddenly called out,“Madam Mayor! Madam Mayor!”

Madam Mayor, who’d been talking to a council member, approached us, looking distinctly unhappy when she caught sight of Chase’s handcuffs. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Bronson here is refusing to tell us where he was on the nights Jay Green and Dylon Pipe were killed,” Chase explained.

“And he has a very strong motive for murdering both men,” Odelia added for good measure.

“Look, he can’t have killed Jay Green,” said Charlene. “For the simple reason that he was with me last night.”

A stunned silence followed these words, and I think we were all surprised by this development.

“Bronson was… with you?” asked Odelia.

“Poor Uncle Alec,” said Dooley, voicing what I think we were all thinking. “His girlfriend is cheating on him with a promising young artist.”

“I can see the attraction,” I said, seeing Bronson in an entirely different light now. “Young and fit and all of that.”

“If you like that sort of thing,” said Dooley, a touch of disapproval in his voice.

“Yeah, exactly. If you like that sort of thing.” And clearly Charlene liked it a lot, for she now stood smiling at Bronson, earning herself a frown from both Chase and Odelia. Odelia because she presumably didn’t appreciate her uncle being thrown over like this, and Chase a good friend and superior officer.

When Charlene caught the expressions on their faces, she laughed.“Oh, no, it’s not what you think! Bronson was modeling for us.”

“Modeling?” asked Chase.

“Yeah, when Dylon died, we lost our model, and even though I like Tex a lot, he’s not exactly the perfect model for these art classes we’ve all been taking. And so we had to find a solution, if we wanted to keep on drawing and painting. And it was actually Marge who came up with the idea. Since she didn’t want to hurt her husband’s feelings, she decided to organize some extra lessons. So now we have our official class, on Monday night, and a second class on Tuesday night at my place. Just a few people, mind you. Me, Marge, Vesta, Scarlett… And Bronson here, who’s proven to be anexcellent model and quite an inspiration for us all.”

Bronson produced a faint smile.“Thanks,” he murmured shyly.

“Oh, no, you’ve done a great job, Bronson,” said Charlene, patting the young artist on the back. She then beamed at Chase. “So you see, Bronson couldn’t possibly have killed Jay Green, since he was at my place last night, and there are several witnesses who can provide him with an alibi.”

“Oh, dear,” said Odelia.

“Now I do hope I can count on your discretion?” asked Charlene fervently. “Your dad… He’s a wonderful person, but when it comes to modeling, he—”

“Sucks,” said Odelia. “I get it.”

“All we wanted was to prevent your dad from showing up naked again, and make an absolute fool of himself. I hope you understand.”

“Yeah, of course,” said Odelia, though she didn’t look so understanding. I guess she didn’t fully approve of her mom and grandma going behind her back like this.

“So… is Bronson our guy or not?” asked Dooley, who had a hard time following what was going on.

“No, he was privately modeling for Charlene, Marge, Gran, Scarlett and some of their friends,” I explained.

“Modeling? What was he modeling?”

“Well… himself, I guess.”

Dooley frowned at me.“I don’t understand, Max. Why would he be modeling himself to all of these women in private?”

“It’s what they do, they draw… men… in the nude.”

“But why?”

“Honestly? I have absolutely no idea,” I said. “For some reason they like drawing men in the nude.”

“Must be something in the water,” said Dooley, as he eyed the coffee cup Charlene was clutching with distinct suspicion.

CHAPTER 36

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

We were back in the car, with Chase prey to understandable disappointment.

“I really thought we had our guy,” he said.

“Do you think I should tell Dad?” asked Odelia, who had other problems to deal with. “I mean, he has a right to know, don’t you think?”

“And Uncle Alec,” Dooley added. “He probably doesn’t know his girlfriend spends her evenings staring at naked men.”

“Bronson still doesn’t have an alibi for Dylon Pipe’s murder,” said Chase, “but I think we can agree that Dylon and Jay were killed by the same person, so that means Bronson is off the hook. And if he didn’t do it, maybe we should take a closer look at Tyrone. It’s not impossible thatJay was a client of his, and in spite of his whole spiel about not wanting to hurt the people who owe him money, I’m sure he wouldn’t be above putting the squeeze on them. So maybe they simply squeezed too hard and Jay ended up dead? And the same thing goes for Dylon.”

“I’ll talk to Mom. If anyone tells Dad it should be her,” said Odelia.

“What are you talking about, babe?” asked Chase, who only now seemed to realize he was holding a monologue.

“This whole modeling business! If they don’t want Dad to be their model, they should simply tell him, and not sneak behind his back like that.”

“Yeah, you’re absolutely right,” said Chase. He put the car in gear, and moments later we happened to be cruising past Tyrone’s Place. The crime boss was seated outside, enjoying a nice meal, along with several of what I assumed were his lieutenants. And as we slowly drove past, Mr. Friday had the audacity to give Chase a cheerful wave.

“The nerve of the guy!” said Chase, as he stepped on the accelerator and roared away. “Now I know it was him!”

“Yeah, but how are we going to prove it?” said Odelia.

And that’s the thing, of course. When ordinary citizens commit murder, they often make a mistake, because they’re amateurs, and haven’t been trained for that sort of thing. But when a professional like Tyrone decides to teach a client a lesson, he doesn’t make mistakes, or at least the people who work for him don’t, since they’re more often than not trained killers, and don’t take any chances.

In other words: the investigation was more or less stymied at this point.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]

By the time we arrived home, Odelia had made up her mind that she was going to tell her dad that his modeling career wasn’t going to pan out, with his own wife and mother-in-law deserting him for a younger model.

But when we entered the house, we found Gran and Scarlett, busily baking pancakes, with Grace the very excited recipient.

Unfortunately Grace was also a co-chef, and had been put in charge of dispensing flour to the two ladies. The upshot was that the floor was dusted in a thin layer of white, and it now looked as if it had been snowing in the kitchen.

“Gran, what are you doing!” Odelia said under her breath.

“Making pancakes, or what does it look like?” said Gran.

“Is it true that you and Mom and Charlene have been organizing a secret art class?” she asked now, the deceit obviously still rankling.

“And me,” said Scarlett. “I was also there.”

“I haven’t forgotten about you,” said Odelia, giving her grandmother’s friend a frosty look.

“Honey, you have to understand we did it all for your dad,” said Gran. “We didn’t want to hurt his feelings by making him think we didn’t like his modeling.”

“But we don’t like his modeling,” said Scarlett.

“Yeah, I don’t know what it is about your dad, but he simply doesn’t inspire us to create great art, you know.”

“I think it’s his face,” said Scarlett. “When I look at your dad I see my doctor. Probably because he is my doctor. And he reminds me of the time I had my appendix removed. I mean, who wants to think about their appendix when they’re trying to create art?”

“And who wants to see their son-in-law?” Gran chimed in.

“And Bronson Shagreen inspires you, does he?” asked Odelia.

“Yes, he does, actually,” said Scarlett. “Bronsonis a work of art.”

“The kid looks like a sculpture,” said Gran, a blissful look appearing on her face. “Heis a sculpture. A regular Adonis.”

“I want you to come clean and tell Dad,” said Odelia.

“But, honey!” Scarlett cried.

“No, it’s not fair, the four of you sneaking behind his back like this.”

“But he’s going to ruin everything!” said Gran.

Scarlett nodded emphatically.“Yeah, this whole thing started when Tex found out that Marge was going to her art class, and that Dylon was modeling for us.”

“It’s all Ida’s fault,” said Gran. “If that woman hadn’t blabbed, none of this would have happened. Tex would have been blissfully ignorant, and we would have happily been drawing away to our heart’s content.”

“Look, if you don’t tell Dad, I will,” said Odelia, really putting her foot down on this one.

“Oh, all right, but if anyone tells him, it should be Marge,” said Gran. “She is, after all, his wife.”

“Fine,” said Odelia.

“Fine,” said Gran with some vehemence. Clearly she wasn’t at all happy with this state of affairs and Odelia meddling with her career as an artist. Then she gave her granddaughter a keen look. “I saw that you and Chase were talking to Charlene? Did she say anything about my contribution?”

“Or mine?” said Scarlett anxiously.

“No, she did not,” said Odelia, who wasn’t about to divulge classified information to these two ladies. Also, she probably had no idea who Charlene would pick.

“I wonder if they know that they both entered the exact same project,” said Dooley. “And not even an actual painting but a reproduction.”

“And that a lot of others probably did the same,” I said.

And as Odelia continued to clear things with her nearest and dearest, Grace had fun‘helping’ her great-grandmother by lightly sprinkling more flour on the floor.

And then of course the inevitable happened: the little tyke caught sight of me and Dooley, and since she felt we shouldn’t be exempt from a good dusting with this fairy dust she was happily sprinkling about, she came waddling up to us, and threw a handful of the stuff on me!

“Hey, what are you doing?!” I cried. But human infants being what they are, she refused to respond, and instead dug her hand into the bag and threatened to sprinkle some more of the stuff, like a miniature fairy godmother..

And since I absolutely did not want to be turned into a snowcat, I skedaddled, chased by this ardent child, who was a lot quicker than I would have thought!

Luckily I managed to escape through the pet flap, which was too small for her. I could see her head poking through, but that was it: no matter how hard she squirmed, she couldn’t follow me out. Which of course caused her to let rip a scream of frustration, followed by a bout of frantic crying. At which point her mother seemed to realize what was going on, and dragged her away from the pet flap, and I was finally at peace again.

Dooley now emerged through the flap, took one good look at me, and asked,“Max? Why are you suddenly white?”

“Because Grace covered me in flour,” I explained.

“Oh, I thought you had such a shock your hair had suddenly turned white,” he said, greatly relieved.

I now saw he had some flour on his own coat of fur, as well, though with him it was less noticeable, since Dooley is one of those very fluffy cats, with beigeish-grayish fur.

And as I stared at him, suddenly a thought occurred to me. It was one of those sudden flashes of inspiration that do so much to mar one’s peace of mind.

“What’s wrong, Max?” asked Dooley. “You look like you’re suffering from an acute case of constipation.”

“I need to think, Dooley,” I said.

“And you also need a good wash,” my friend added. “Cause that flour isn’t going to wash itself off, you know.”

“No, you’re right,” I said, but suddenly my personal hygiene was the last thing on my mind.

CHAPTER 37

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

Algis and Matilda Twine were watching television that night, along with their one and only daughter Laia. It was one of those family nights that neither partner had ever thought they’d share together again. But now that Laia was back home, the balance had been restored, and all was well again.

The show that was on involved famous people singing and dancing, dressed up in elaborate costumes that effectively masked their identity, with a jury that had to guess who was concealed underneath the mask.

It was all a little silly, Matilda thought, but it was still good fun, and Laia loved it, which was all that mattered.

“I’m so glad you’re home again, sweetie,” she said, patting her daughter’s arm. “I really missed these cozy family evenings in front of the TV.”

“Yeah, me too,” said Laia.

“And me!” Algis piped up, as he dug into a bag of chips.

“There is one thing I wanted to ask you, though,” said Laia.

“Shoot,” said Matilda, who hadn’t been in this good a mood since before Laia had announced she was moving in with that loser Jay Green.

Suddenly, and to Matilda’s shock, her daughter spirited a necklace from the pocket of her jeans. “Is this what I think it is?”

Matilda darted a look of annoyance at her husband.“Algis?” she said sharply.

“Yes, honey?” said Algis, not meeting her angry stare.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Yes, Daddy, what do you have to say for yourself?” asked Laia, twirling the necklace around her fingers.

“Careful, sweetie,” said Algis. “That thing is worth a small fortune.”

“Oh, I know it is, Daddy,” said Laia. “But what was it doing in your safe?”

“I… I have no idea,” said Algis.

“I told you not to put it in the safe, you idiot!” Matilda couldn’t help but exclaim.

“I didn’t think!” said Algis.

“Okay, you need to explain something to me, cause this is all very confusing,” said Laia. “This necklace was stolen from Jay’s apartment by Dylon Pipe, yes?”

Matilda didn’t speak, and neither did Algis.

“Before mysteriously disappearing. And now it suddenly turns up in the safe. So what does that tell us?”

“Sweetie, it’s not what it looks like, “ said Algis.

“Shut up, you fool,” Matilda snapped.

“Let me tell you what I think happened,” said Laia, idly fingering the trinket. “I think you and Dylon set up the theft of this necklace, only when Dylon fell from that window, you couldn’t resist snatching that necklace from his pocket.”

“That’s not what happened, sweetie,” said Algis.

“Shut up!” Matilda hissed.

“So how much did you promise Dylon for the safe return of my necklace?” asked Laia.

“It’s not your necklace, you stupid girl!” Matilda said. “It’s mine!”

“It is your mother’s necklace,” Algis admitted.

“So did you murder Dylon?” asked Laia. “Did you kill him so you could lay your hands on my necklace? Is that what happened?”

“Oh, sweetie,” said Algis with a sigh.

“Tell me, Daddy!”

Algis reached out to his daughter, but she pulled away.

“Just tell me the truth!”

“Don’t you dare,” Matilda hissed.

“She has a right to know, darling,” said Algis, the man with the jelly spine. “She is our daughter, and after all, we did it all for her.”

“You did what for me?” Laia demanded.

“Everything,” said Algis.

“Oh, God,” Matilda muttered.

“Look, I’ll tell you what happened, but you have to understand we only did what we thought was best for you.”

“Daddy, what did you do?” asked Laia, giving him an anxious look.

“Act like an absolute fool, that’s what he did,” said Matilda.

“Honey…”

“This is all your fault! If you hadn’t stuck your nose into that candy, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“What candy? What are you talking about?” asked Laia.

“Nose candy,” said Matilda cryptically. “Your dad developed a great fondness for coke. Spent a ton of money on the evil stuff. And guess who his supplier was?”

“Dylon Pipe?”

“Bingo. Only Dylon wasn’t satisfied with being paid his regular fee. He must have discovered that Algis here is worth a great deal of money, and so he decided to supplement his income by asking a percentage on top of his usual price.”

“He called it a loan,” said Algis. “The little creep kept pushing me for more and more, and since I couldn’t afford him blabbing to people about me being such a good customer, I had to keep paying him bigger and bigger sums of money. Until one night I simply had enough. So I decided to follow him, and demand that he give me back my money. Only he wasn’t going home, but instead headed to Jay’s place. I was watching from across the street, and I saw him shimmy up the drainpipe, sneak in through the window, then sneak out again, and take a nasty tumble as he did. So I looked around, crossed the street, and was planning to grab his backpack. But as I stood leaning over him, he suddenly opened his eyes and started screaming his head off, the idiot. So I panicked, grabbed the first thing I saw, and hit him on the head to shut him up. Only I must have hit him too hard.”

“And killed the kid in the process,” Matilda muttered. She was still angry when she thought about it. Her husband arriving home that night with this kid’s backpack, which contained her necklace, and confessing that he’d killed some lowlife drug dealer. At least he’d had the good sense to dump the stone into the canal, and make sure he wasn’t seen.

“So you killed Dylon?” asked Laia, aghast.

“It was an accident!” Algis cried.

“It doesn’t sound like an accident to me,” said Laia.

“The kid had been pestering me, blackmailing me. I was at the end of my rope.”

“And high as a kite,” Matilda added.

“I’ve already told you, I’m going to quit, honey,” said Algis.

“Don’t you honey me!” said Matilda.

“Okay, so what about Jay?” asked Laia.

Matilda closed her mouth with a click, and Algis looked away.

“Oh, my God, you killed him, too, didn’t you!”

“Yeah, well, the kid was going to destroy your future,” said Matilda finally.

A look of horror now appeared on Laia’s face. “Mommy!”

Matilda sighed.“Like your dad said, it was for your own good, sweetie. That man was going to ruin your life. So it’s all for the best. Now can we watch the show? I actually think Steve Harvey is underneath that mask.”

“What… when… How could you!”

“Look, I agree with your mother,” said Algis. “I did what I had to do, and I’m not sorry.” He gave his daughter a sweet smile. “One day, when you have kids of your own, you will understand.”

“Tell me exactly what happened,” said Laia, suddenly adopting a steely tone.

Matilda sighed, then nodded to her husband.“Better tell her.”

“I found Dylon’s phone in his backpack, which is how I knew that he and Jay had worked this thing together. Stealing the necklace as an insurance scam. Which is when I decided to pay that young man a visit. I knew you were out with your friends, and so I dropped by the apartment to give him a piece of my mind. Tell him to stay away from you, you know. Only when I got there, he just laughed in my face. Called me an old so-and-so, and became belligerent. So I…” He licked his lips, and glanced at Matilda. “I hit him. I didn’t mean to hit very hard, but I guess I don’t know my own strength.”

“And once again, you were high as a kite,” said Matilda dryly.

“One line for courage, darling. Just the one line.”

“Daddy, the police told me Jay’s face was flat as a pancake. That he’d sustained so many blows there was nothing left. So don’t tell me you just hit him once.”

“It was a very heavy rock,” said Algis feebly.

“You took a rock in there? So you intended to kill him?”

“No! I just took it as insurance. You know, just in case.”

Laia turned to her mom.“Did you know about this?”

“Know about it? I told him to go there!” Matilda said. “It was my idea!”

“He was a very bad man, sweetie,” said Algis, trying to take his daughter into an embrace. A foolish thing to do, of course, for Laia blew up.

“You’re crazy! You’re both crazy! Who are you people! I don’t even know you!”

“We’re your parents,” said Matilda. “And we would do anything for you.”

Suddenly Matilda’s eye was drawn to a wire peeking out from her daughter’s blouse. And as she grabbed it and pulled, an entire device popped out.

“What’s this?” she demanded. “Are you recording us, you stupid girl!”

“Yes, Mommy,” said Laia. “And for your information, the police have heard everything you just said.” She got up with as much dignity as she could muster, and stared down at her parents, who were both immobile with shock. “And for your information: I loved Jay and he loved me. And I’ll never forgive you!”

And in just that moment, a small contingent of cops stormed into the room, and before Matilda knew what was happening, she was being placed under arrest, and so was Algis.

CHAPTER 38

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

“Okay, so how did you do it, Max?” asked Brutus. “How did you find out it was Laia’s parents?”

We were in the backyard, the four of us seated on the porch swing, while the humans were all gathered around the garden table, enjoying a small feast. Food should have been provided by Tex, our go-to grill master. Only Tex had announced he was on strike. Marge and Gran had told him about their secret art class, and Tex had taken the betrayal hard. And so now he was on strike, both as a model, even though his services weren’t really required, and as a dispenser of food.

Though judging from the happy faces all around, no one seemed to mind particularly that the good doctor had downed tools.

Instead, Chase had taken over, and with the assistance of Uncle Alec had done a wonderful job. They’d even earned themselves applause from their family, something I don’t think Tex had ever received.

It only served to make the paterfamilias even more cranky, and for a while it had looked as if he would also refuse to take nourishment, but in the end I guess even he realized that was overdoing things. Though it may have been the delicious smells wafting from the grill that finally decided him.

I watched Grace smear her face with what looked like some kind of vegetable paste and said, with a smile,“It was actually Grace who solved the case.”

“Grace!” Harriet cried, eyeing the toddler with newfound respect. “She’s not even old enough to speak and already she’s solving cases!”

“Well, she didn’t actually solve the case, but she did give me a very important clue,” I clarified, lest there be any misunderstanding. “Flour.”

“Flour?”

“Flour. You see, the day we paid a visit to the Twines, Algis was baking pancakes, and his shirtfront was covered with flour. Only he also had some flour under his nose, which Matilda hastened to wipe off. Now how would a man get flour up the nose?”

“Unless it wasn’t flour but something else entirely,” said Harriet, understanding dawning.

“What was it, Max?” asked Dooley. “Was it sugar?”

“Not sugar, Dooley, but cocaine. Algis Twine is an addict, and Dylon Pipe was his dealer. Only Dylon kept ‘borrowing’ more and more money from the man, implying that if he didn’t pay up, he would reveal his dirty secret, so finally Algis was fed up, and after another one of their late-nightmeetings, where money and drugs changed hands, he decided to follow Dylon, who was on his way to break into Jay’s place and steal that necklace. And that’s how Algis found out what was going on.”

“And bashed in his dealer’s head,” said Harriet, nodding. “And it was the flour that did it, was it?”

“Well, Gran was baking pancakes, and Grace happened to cover me in the stuff, which is how I suddenly remembered our interview with Laia’s parents, which made me wonder if Algis hadn’t told us the whole truth. That, and the fact that he used to be a bruiser for an extremist organization back in the day when he was young and poor. His nickname was The Bludgeoner, and he loved smashing people’s heads in. So I guess that experience served him well when dealing with Dylon and Jay.”

“But why did he kill Jay?” asked Brutus.

“Because he wanted to save his daughter from an unhappy marriage. He figured that if Jay and Dylon were such great friends, Jay was just as bad as Dylon, and would lead his little girl to her ruin. And he couldn’t have that.”

“He could have argued with the guy. Or offered him money to walk away.”

“Which is exactly what he did, but then Jay must have figured he was coming into plenty of money from his insurance scam, and he was still hoping that necklace would turn up, so he could sell it for a nice chunk of change.”

“Algis must have been pretty enraged to kill the guy in such a brutal way,” said Harriet.

“Yeah, well, I guess his Bludgeoner days suddenly made a comeback. And also, he was high on the white powder at the time, courtesy of Dylon Pipe’s provisions.”

“So a dusting of flour and you caught a killer,” said Brutus, giving me a nod of approval. “Well done, Max.”

“There was also the fact that the killer had felt Laia’s pulse. What killer would do such a thing? It was one of those little things that kept nagging me throughout the investigation. And then it hit me: a father would want to make sure his daughter was all right. Which is also where that second phone call came from. Just before the neighbor called the police, Algis had already called 911, making sure Laia would get the proper treatment, and not lie there for hours until someone happened to stumble across her.”

Odelia now walked over, laden with delicious treats. We welcomed her with open paws, so to speak.

“Is Tex ever going to speak to Marge again?” asked Dooley anxiously. “I don’t like it when they are fighting, Odelia.”

“Oh, I’m sure everything will work out,” said Odelia with a wink. “In fact Mom has already promised not to draw naked men anymore. Instead, they’re going to paint cats from now on.”

“Cats!” Harriet cried. “Not… stuffed cats!”

“No, live ones,” said Odelia. “And more specifically, they’re going to paint you guys.”

“But I don’t want to be painted,” Brutus lamented. “Paint is bad for the skin, and it’s toxic when ingested.”

“They’re not going to actually paint you, Brutus,” said Odelia. “They’re going to create a paintingof you.”

“Oh,” said Brutus. “Well, I guess that’s all right, then.”

“Of course it’s all right. And this time my dad is even going to join in the fun. And all you have to do is sit still for a couple of hours and pose.”

We all gulped.“Sit still for a couple of hours?” I asked weakly. “But how?”

“I can’t sit still for hours,” said Harriet. “I have to go for a tinkle, have a bite to eat…” She shook her head decidedly. “I’m sorry, Odelia. But no can do. You’ll just have to find yourself a different cat model. Or better yet, a stuffed one.”

Odelia thought for a moment, then said,“Or you could simply take a long nap while we paint you.”

“Now you’re talking,” I said.

“Don’t say yes, Max,” said Harriet. “It’s probably a trick. I mean, what’s so interesting about a sleeping cat?”

“You’d be surprised,” said Odelia. “Watching a cat sleep is very soothing, and soothing is all the rage right now.”

She was right. After Tex’s whole semi-nude posing business, we all needed something soothing. Tex had proved a big hit at Charlene’s upcoming art show, but in the end the town council had decided to go in a different direction. I guess they didn’t want to scare off the tourists. So now the theme was pets. And you have to admit: who doesn’t like a pet? And so many possibilities offered themselves: some people keep pet turtles, others keep pet rabbits, chickens, hamsters, parrots… Though of course the absolute king of pets is still Felis catus.

“Here,” said Odelia, taking out her phone. “We’ve already started making some preliminary sketches. I’ve done Max.” A very smart-looking blorange specimen appeared, and I nodded approvingly. “Mom did Dooley.” A nice gray fluffball, nicely rendered. “Chase did Brutus.”

“Very nice,” Brutus murmured.

He looked like a cross between Rambo and Terminator, only the feline version.

“And finally Gran did Harriet.”

A sort of ratty growth appeared on her phone’s screen. We all recoiled in horror.

“But… I look like the stuff you fish out of the shower drain!” Harriet cried.

“Are you showing them my drawing, Odelia?” asked Gran happily. “What do you think? Pretty hot stuff, huh?”

But Harriet didn’t approve. Instead, she drew herself up to her full height, and cried, “I’ve had it with you people! First you kidnap me, then you put me to work as an art slave, then you cover me in toxic paint and threaten to stuff me, and now you turn me into this disgusting shower hairball! Well, you can all get stuffed!”

And with these immortal words, she stalked off, head high, tail even higher.

Gran watched her leave, and shrugged.“Oh, well. I guess everyone’s a critic.”

53. PURRFECT SLUG

CHAPTER 1

As it happens, a dark cloud had descended upon my hometown. And to think that the day had started out so sunny and bright. But then of course I’m not a fortune teller, so it’s always hard for me to know what is going to take place in the near or distant future. All I know is that I woke up experiencing a certain malaise, which is not my custom. And then of course Grace, our human’s little girl, discovered that cats have tails, and decided that pulling those tails provides a limitless source of joy, and so she’d been chasing my tail for the best part of the morning. Each time I thought I was safe, and had shaken off the infernal infant, there she was, giggling and gibbering, as human infants are in the habit of doing, and making a dive for my tail, giving it a forceful yank the moment she managed to take hold of the sensitive appendage. Not a pleasant way to pass the morning!

“Why does she keep doing this!” Dooley cried, since he, too, had become a victim of Grace’s latest game. So much so that we’d taken cover in the backyard, hiding behind the rose bushes, where Grace had yet to root us out.

“She seems to derive a certain pleasure from the process,” I said as I nervously scanned the horizon, just in case our newfound nemesis staged a comeback.

“But why? What’s so funny about pulling a cat’s tail?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, “but it seems there is something inherently fascinating about a tail that appeals to the youthful zeal these infants possess in spades.”

It was one more aspect of cohabiting with a human infant that we hadn’t taken into account on that fateful day when Odelia had announced that soon two would become three, and that our home was to be blessed with Kingsley offspring.

So far I hadn’t experienced much of the joy a baby is supposed to bring. If Grace wasn’t pulling our tails, she was vomiting all over our precious fur, or digging a chubby little hand into our food bowls and spreading kibble across the kitchen floor, like a farmer sowing seeds. Or dunking certain objects into our drinking bowls, such as there are: a rubber ball, a pacifier, or a stuffed elephant.

“Oh, where are the days when it was just us and Odelia,” I said with a deep sigh, as I placed my head on my front paws, without relaxing my vigilance, lest our formidable foe suddenly appeared out of the blue, as she often does.

“It’s all Chase’s fault,” said Dooley. “If Odelia hadn’t met him, she wouldn’t have married him, and if she hadn’t married him, Grace wouldn’t have shown up.”

And as we both moodily stared before ourselves, silently blaming Chase Kingsley for this horrible predicament we found ourselves in, a tiny voice suddenly sounded in my ears. It wasn’t Grace, that much was obvious, for she might be a baby, but she has a voice like an opera singer when she’s going well.

No, this voice was so weak it could have been my tummy rumbling and expressing its distress at having to drink water laced with stuffed elephant residue, or eating kibble that has been used to sweep the kitchen floor.

“Help me!” the tiny voice called out.

I glanced over to my friend. But Dooley’s lips weren’t moving, and unless he’d suddenly turned into a ventriloquist, it was clear it wasn’t him asking for help.

“Can you please help me!” the voice repeated, a little louder this time, and more emphatically.

So I glanced around in all directions, my head turning this way and that, and that’s when I finally saw it: a snail was sneaking along the branches of the rose bush we were currently using as cover. The snail was staring at me with helpless bewilderment, and repeated, “Help me, please! I’m hanging on for dear life here!”

As far as I could tell, the snail was firmly glued to that branch, as snails do, and wasn’t in any immediate danger. Still, obviously she or he—or it—was going through a personal crisis of some kind, for its feelers waved back and forth, as if trying to draw my attention, and then it said, “It-it’s going to eat me!”

“What’s going to eat you?” I asked, curious about this creature’s distress.

“What’s going to eat what?” asked Dooley, who’d opened his eyes to take in the strange scene. “Oh, hey there, little guy. How are you doing?”

“Not well, cat,” said the snail. “If I’m not careful, that big bird is going to eat me with hide and hair!”

“I didn’t know snails had hair,” said Dooley, interested. “Though I can understand how being eaten is not a fun prospect. I wouldn’t like it myself.”

“Please chase it away,” said the snail. “I know birds don’t like cats, and so if you could please do me this one little favor, I’ll make it worth your while.”

I looked around for a sign of this bird the snail was talking about, and lo and behold: there was indeed a bird, perched on the top branch of the rose bush, eyeing our slimy little friend with distinct relish reflected in its beady eyes.

“Now shoo, bird,” I said sternly, and waved an admonishing paw in the direction of the bird. “Take a hike, will you? Nothing to see here so move along.”

The bird shifted its gaze from the snail to me, and didn’t seem to like what it saw, for it frowned darkly. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t come between me and my meal, cat,” said the bird with a sort of menacing undertone.

“And what if I do?” I said, not liking the attitude of this bird one little bit.

I’d raised myself up to my full height, which, I have to say, is considerable, and to my satisfaction I saw how the bird seemed to flinch a bit when it saw what it was up against. So finally the bird—it could have been a sparrow, or it could have been a robin, my knowledge of the different bird species is shamefully limited— growled, “Oh, all right. Have it your way.” And after directing one final longing look at our new friend the snail, it spread its wings and flew off, to live and catch another snail another day, I guess.

“Phew, tanks, cat,” said the snail, as it visibly relaxed now that the danger had passed. “That bird had been following me around for quite a while now!”

“I don’t understand why birds eat snails anyway,” said Dooley. “Isn’t it difficult to digest, with all of that slime? And not very tasty either, I would imagine.”

“And let’s not forget about the shell,” I said. I couldn’t imagine trying to swallow down a whole shell. I’m sure it would feel like a brick in my stomach. Then again, birds are strange creatures. And probably possess concrete stomachs.

I’d already taken my position underneath that bush again, preparatory to taking a light nap, when the snail said, “I said I’d make it worth your while, and my name wouldn’t be Rupert if I didn’t keep my promise. So here goes, cats.”

“Here goes what?” asked Dooley, glancing around to see what other slimy creatures would come crawling out from the undergrowth.

“It’s an expression, Dooley,” I said as I stifled a yawn. “It means he’s going to do something.”

“Do what?”

“I don’t know. Something.” Frankly I was feeling a little sleepy right around then. I guess it was because of the adrenaline dissipating from my system. That and being chased around the house by Grace had sapped my strength. So whatever wisdom the snail was intent on imparting, I scarcely paid attention, and even as I dozed off, I was conscious of strange words being spoken by the snail.

“Blue moon,” he said. Or words to that effect.

If only I’d paid closer attention, and hadn’t allowed my natural vigilance to waver at that crucial moment, it might have saved me a whole lot of trouble!

CHAPTER 2

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Tex had been pottering around in his backyard, weeding the flowerbeds and thinking up ways and means of beautifying his modest little patch of paradise, when his thoughts of floral delight were rudely interrupted by his neighbor Ted, who desired speech.

“Say, Tex,” said Ted, his head popping up over the hedge that served as a natural barrier between both gardens. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Well, that’s a first,” Tex muttered under his breath, as he reluctantly downed tools. It wasn’t that he disliked his neighbor, but it couldn’t be said he liked him a great deal either. There had always existed a certain rivalry between both men, especially when it came to the fate of their respective backyards. Tex had long been a big proponent of the common garden gnome as a way of lending that littleje-ne-sais-quoi to his property, and Ted had more or less brazenly copied the idea. The result was a sort of garden gnome race between the two homeowners.

“I’ve been thinking we should pool our resources and hire a professional landscaper,” said Ted, as he rubbed his nose then sneezed.

Tex frowned at his neighbor.“What are you talking about? What landscaper?”

He’d gotten up from his position on the foam pad he used to protect his knees and approached the hedge. At one point they’d agreed to a fence to mark the official boundary, but recently had decided that a hedge was much nicer, and also provided a way for their respective pets to come and go as they pleased. Ted and his wife Marcie owned a sheepdog, Rufus, who, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t an enemy to the Poole cat contingent but a friend, and so as Ted and Tex chatted across the hedge, Tex saw that Harriet and Brutus scooted underneath, and crossed into Ted’s backyard to shoot thebreeze with the man’s canine friend.

“Look, I know you take great pride in your backyard, Tex,” said Ted. “And you know I do, too. But at the end of the day, we’re hardly pros, are we? And you have to admit it takes a lot of time and effort to make these gardens shine. So I was thinking that maybe if we bring in a landscaper, and then pay a gardener to come in once a week, or once every two weeks, we could save ourselves a lot of trouble, and at the same time have the kind of backyards we can really be proud of.”

“Mh,” said Tex as he gave this suggestion some thought. The idea had merit. Though he was reluctant to admit it to his neighbor, of course. So instead he said, “Professional landscapers are expensive, Ted. Even if we pooled our resources.”

“Oh, I’m sure between the two of us, it’s a warranted expenditure,” said Ted. With a wink, he added, “I might even be able to turn it into a tax deduction.”

Ted was an accountant, so creating tax breaks or write-offs was what he did.

“I’d have to discuss it with Marge,” said Tex, wavering. He enjoyed working in his backyard, but lately he’d started feeling the strain, especially when spring was in the land, of spending every available moment having to fight the good fight against the pesky weeds attacking his flowerbeds. Even the modest patch of lettuce and radish he’d planted at Marge’s instigation needed constant vigilance to save them from a veritable army of pests trying to get at them before Tex could.

“Look, I know you need some time to think about it,” said Ted, “but give it some serious thought, yeah? I think you’ll find it will make both our lives a lot easier. And hey, paying a gardener doesn’t mean we can’t still do a little bit of gardening ourselves. Only difference is that we’ll have fun doing it, and not see it as a chore we can’t get out of.” He shrugged. “At least that’s how I feel. You?”

Tex slowly nodded.“Lately it’s all becoming a little too much,” he admitted. “Especially those snails that keep eating everything I plant.”

“Yeah, same here,” said Ted. “And you should see what they’re doing to my gnomes. Every morning those little buddies are full of slimy trails. Really yucky.”

It was a problem the good doctor had been contending with himself, and he could sympathize.

“I just hope this landscaper of yours goes easy on the toxic products.”

“Oh, no! Natural stuff only,” Ted assured him. “Absolutely. We don’t want to poison the soil, now do we?” And with a final nod at his neighbor, Ted returned to the arduous work of having to clean his gnomes from all traces of snail slime.

It was an arduous task, and a thankless one at that. For no sooner had they cleaned their respective gnomes, an army of snails had defaced them again.

And so it was with a faint sense of hope that Tex returned to his weeding. For once in his life, Ted had had a good idea. An idea Tex could wholeheartedly get behind. And if this gardener proved a tax break, so much the better. Your hard-working doctor has to count the pennies, just like any responsible family man.

CHAPTER 3

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While Tex stood chatting with his neighbor, Harriet and Brutus had slipped through the hedge and were now engaged in earnest conversation with Rufus, the Trappers’ sheepdog. As a rule, cats and dogs don’t usually see eye to eye, but then life in Hampton Cove doesn’t always adhere to the fixed rules that seem to govern the rest of the world.

“I don’t think so, Rufus,” Harriet was saying. “I really believe you should go through with it.”

“But Harriet,” Rufus said, directing a look of anguish at his neighbor. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because you are just about the handsomest dog I know, that’s why,” said Harriet. A rare compliment in her book, but one that was well deserved, she felt.

“I don’t know,” said the big fluffy dog, as he hung his head, prey to indecision. “What if I lose badly? I’ll never live it down. You know what pets are like.”

Oh, she most certainly did. Once she had given her all by launching herself into show business, only to be laughed off the stage by a roomful of haters. So she could see where Rufus was coming from. Which is why she felt so adamant about this.“Look, Rufus,” she said, deciding to go for broke. “If you do this, I’ll be there for you every step of the way. And I’m talking personal one-on-one coaching. I’ll be your personal trainer, mental coach and psychologist all rolled into one.”

“And me,” said Brutus, a little gruffly, Harriet felt. “Don’t forget about me.”

“You would do that for me?” asked Rufus, a smile breaking through the clouds.

“Of course!” said Harriet. “And if you make it, which I’m sure you will, it will be because we gave it everything we had. It will be a celebration of the art of perseverance.” And her personal vengeance against all the naysayers that claimed she was a talentless hack. Of which, she had tosay, there were plenty.

“What about you, Brutus?” asked Rufus, consulting Harriet’s mate. “Do you think I should sign myself up for this dog show or not?”

Brutus hesitated for a moment, but then caught Harriet’s eye. “Of course,” said the butch black cat. “I think you’re a very talented dog, Rufus, and it’s about time the world saw you for who you are.”

Rufus beamed widely. If even Brutus felt that their friend had a chance, he might as well go ahead.“Could you give Fifi the same speech you just gave me?”

“Fifi?” asked Harriet. “Does she also want to join the show?”

“Oh, absolutely,” said Rufus. “In fact it was her idea. Only she doesn’t feel she’s pretty enough to enter such an important competition, so she bailed.”

“I think Fifi stands just as much chance as you,” said Harriet, and hoped her words rang true with the power of conviction. She’d never understood why dogs enter these Best in Show deals, but then she’d always relied more on her innate sense of talent rather than her good looks. But it was certainly true that both Rufus and Fifi were prime specimens of their respective species, and would have no trouble finding plenty of supporters to defend their claim at the big prize.

“Okay, if I’ve got you both in my corner, I think I might give this thing a shot,” finally Rufus decided. He heaved a deep sigh. “Now all we need to do is to convince Ted and Marcie to enter me into the competition. And Kurt, of course.”

They exchanged worried glances. Convincing Ted and Marcie was one thing, but Fifi’s human was quite another. A retired schoolteacher, the notoriously bad-tempered Kurt Mayfield wasn’t the kind of person to take advice from his neighbors, and the only way to enter both dogs in the competition was for Harriet to tell Gran or Marge, and for Gran or Marge to talk to their neighbors and float the idea. If either Rufus or Fifi’s humans decided against the idea, no dice!

“Oh, it will be fine,” said Harriet, as she gently patted the big dog on in the flank. “Kurt will have to agree. He just has to.”

“If Fifi doesn’t sign up, neither will I,” said Rufus, in a strong example of canine loyalty.

“Fifi will sign up. And if Kurt refuses,” said Harriet, “we’ll sign her up in secret. He’ll never even know she entered the show until it’s all over and done with.”

“Yeah, but someone has to walk her onto the platform,” said Rufus. “And if not Kurt, then who?”

Harriet smiled a fine smile.“Just leave that to me,” she said, as an idea was already starting to form in her resourceful mind.

CHAPTER 4

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The snail incident was soon forgotten, especially when it transpired that once again Grace had gotten it into her nut to freely distribute our food supply across the kitchen floor. Only this time it wasn’t kibble but the contents of a pouch of wet food, and so when Odelia found her daughter sitting on the floor of the kitchen, hands and face liberally smeared with premium cat food, and also her clothes and part of the floor and even the walls, she heaved an exasperated groan, and picked up her daughter to remove the remnants of our lunch from the girl’s person.

“Now what are we supposed to eat?” I grumbled as I sat beside my empty bowl.

“The fact that Grace likes our food is a good sign,” said Dooley. “Babies have an innate sense of taste and smell. They instinctively know what’s good for them.”

“I think you’ll find that’s actually cats, Dooley, not babies. A baby will put anything in its mouth, whether it’s good for them or not. Which is why most parents confine their infants to a playpen when they’re old enough to crawl, so they can’t go around putting all kinds of stuff intotheir mouths, including our lunch!”

Honestly I was waiting for the day that Grace would become a regular upstanding human, just like the rest of them, and stopped messing around and making a nuisance of herself. But as Odelia had explained, this would take a number of years. Humans, as we all know, are very slow, and take many years to turn into adults. And then of course there are those humans who never fully grow up, and remain infants all of their lives. If Gran is to be believed, this includes all the males of the species, though I’m not sure if she was speaking in jest or not.

Chase came wandering into the kitchen, took one look at our empty bowls and our pleading pitiful expressions, and emitted a low chuckle.“Always hungry, aren’t you, fellas?” And then he shook his head and walked out again.

“He seems to believe it was us who emptied our bowls,” Dooley lamented.

“Yeah, dads will always defend their young,” I said. “So even though Grace is the culprit here, as far as her dad is concerned, she’s as innocent as a newborn baby.”

And since no more food was forthcoming, we decided to skedaddle. If there’s one thing we’re good at, it’s admitting defeat when it’s staring us right in the face.

And so we left the kitchen through the pet flap and ventured out into the backyard once more. Where we almost bumped into Harriet and Brutus, who had selected that moment to venture into the house.

“Don’t bother,” I said. “Grace smeared all of our food across herself and the kitchen floor, and Chase seems to think we ate it all, so it’s another day of dieting.”

“I’m not interested in food, thank you very much,” said Harriet, as if the mere thought of tucking into a full plate of food disgusted her. “In actual fact we’re here to argue Fifi and Rufus’s case.”

“What case?” I asked, not following our friend’s reasoning.

“Well, Rufus wants to compete in the upcoming dog show, and so does Fifi, only they both need to secure permission slips from their humans. So now we want Odelia or Marge or Gran to talk to Ted and Marcie and Kurt about it.”

“Good luck with that,” I said. “Kurt Mayfield will never allow Fifi to enter any competition. He’s dead set against that kind of malarkey, as he calls it.”

“I know, which is why I was thinking that Odelia could take Fifi. I mean, who’s to know Fifi isn’t hers? The jury won’t know, and it would make Fifi so happy.”

It certainly was a good idea, and I saw no flaws in her reasoning. Except one.

“What if Kurt finds out? He’ll be furious. And you know how Odelia hates upsetting her neighbor.”

“There’s no way Kurt will find out. Unless Fifi wins, of course, and her name and picture are printed in the paper. But we all know she doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Doesn’t stand a chance of what?” asked a familiar voice in our rear. When we slowly turned, we saw that we’d been joined by the lady of the hour: Fifi herself.

“Oh, nothing,” said Harriet quickly.

“For your information, when I enter a competition, I intend to win,” said Fifi, proving that she’d heard the entire conversation. And from the way she sat there frowning at us, it was obvious she didn’t like the implication of Harriet’s words.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Fifi,” said Harriet quickly. “What I meant was—”

“Oh, I know perfectly well what you meant, Harriet,” said Fifi coldly. “And even though I appreciate you trying to help me, I’ll tell you right now that I don’t need any help.” She eyed us one by one, fixing us with a frosty look. “From any of you!”

And with these words, the otherwise mild-mannered Yorkie turned on her heel and strode off, back to the hole in the fence that she’d dug there herself, to provide easy coming and going.

Harriet eyed me uncertainly.“Do you think I should go after her and apologize?”

“Better let her cool off a little first,” I said. “Obviously she didn’t like it when you said there’s no chance in hell she’ll ever win this competition.”

“That’s not what I said and you know it!”

“No, but it’s what you meant, and it’s certainly what Fifi understood.”

Harriet looked thoughtful.“She said she doesn’t need our help. But how can she possibly enter the competition if Kurt doesn’t sign her up? Or Odelia?”

“I don’t know,” I said. Then again, we all know Fifi as a resourceful canine. If she wanted to enter the competition, there was no doubt in my mind she would.

CHAPTER 5

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Odelia had just given Grace a bath when her phone chimed its cheerful tune.

“Can you pick that up, Chase!” she bellowed. “My hands are wet!”

Chase, who’d been busy in their home gym—a euphemism for the spare bedroom where he’d stored some of his fitness equipment—came hurrying up and grabbed his wife’s phone. Checking the display, he said, “It’s your boss. Should I pick up or let it go to answerphone?”

Odelia didn’t hesitate. “Pick up. Maybe it’s important.”

Dan only phoned when it was urgent. Otherwise he respected her privacy too much to bother her on a day off.

“Hello, Dan,” Chase boomed into the phone with his sonorous voice. He listened for a moment, then clapped eyes on Odelia before replying, “How important is this assignment, Dan? On a scale of one to ten, for instance.”

“Oh, let me have it,” said Odelia, who’d dried her hands. “Yes, Dan? What’s this about an important assignment?”

“Do you remember when billionaire businessman Edward Dexter came to town?” asked the senior editor.

“Sure. I interviewed him for the paper.”

“Yes, you did. And asked him some very pertinent questions, if I remember correctly. Questions he didn’t like very much.”

“Yeah, he wasn’t happy with me,” she said, remembering the incident well. She’d still managed to earn the man’s respect, in spite of her harsh line of questioning, or perhaps because of it. No doubt very few reporters had ever grilled him to such an extent. “So what about him?”

“He’s in town, and he wants to talk to you.”

“Me? But why?”

“No idea. All I know is that he called me out of the blue, and asked if I could arrange an interview with my star reporter as soon as possible.”

“Well, sure,” she said. “Did he say what he wanted to talk to me about?”

“Nope. Tight-lipped as ever. Just that he wants to meet you at your earliest convenience.”

She glanced down at Grace, who was giving her a gummy smile.“I could see him tomorrow, I guess.”

“He wants to see you in one hour, in the bar of the Star Hotel. And he said to come alone.”

Odelia cast a quick look at her husband, who was floating a rubber duck in front of Grace and getting himself pretty soaked in the process.“I guess that would work. Though I wonder what he wants from me.”

“If we’re lucky, another exclusive interview,” said Dan, and she could almost hear him salivating at the prospect. “How are you fixed for a babysitter?”

“I’ve got the best babysitter in the world right here,” she said, and received a grin from Chase in return.

Once she’d hung up, she told her husband about the interview.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” asked Chase with a touch of concern. “You know what these billionaires are like. They think they own everything and everyone. And if I remember correctly, this guy took quite a shine to you last time you met.”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “We’re meeting in a public place, so if he tries anything funny, I’ll kick him in the shin and then I’ll scream the place down.”

“Okay, but whatever he says, don’t go up to his room.”

“Of course not,” said Odelia, smiling at his concern. “I might take Max and Dooley, though.”

“Didn’t he say to come alone?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think he was talking about my cats.”

“Brats!” said Grace as she reached for the rubber duck, which her dad had held out of reach while he was talking to Odelia.

“Mommy is going out,” Chase explained as he handed Grace the treasured yellow object, which she immediately put into her mouth and started gnawing on with non-existent teeth. “Yes, she’s a high-powered reporter, your mommy is. And a very important billionaire wants to talk to her about his billionaire business.”

Odelia checked her face in the mirror. She looked terrible. If she was to meet Ed Dexter in less than an hour, and look presentable, she had to get a move on!

CHAPTER 6

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Odelia had an assignment for us, and even though justly I could have refused, considering how cavalier she was being with our food supply, I decided not to let the liberties her daughter took with the contents of our bowls put the kibosh on a working relationship that went back years, and had always proved mutually beneficial.

So while Harriet and Brutus got busy prepping Rufus for his big show, and Fifi was off flying solo, Dooley and I hopped into our human’s aged pickup for her meeting with the billionaire who’d summoned her on such short notice, dragging her away from her maternal duties.

“He must be a very important person, for you to abandon Grace like that,” said Dooley as we took our positions on the backseat, digging in our claws while the car accelerated and was soon hurtling along the route.

“I’m not abandoning Grace,” said Odelia. “But it’s true that Ed Dexter is a very important person. He’s the guy who puts batteries in cars and satellites in space.”

“Oh, so he builds cars, does he?” I asked.

“His main business is building batteries, but when he saw an opportunity, he started building cars, too, figuring they were a good bet for his battery business. And since then he’s gone from strength to strength.”

“I wonder what he wants to see you about.”

“Maybe he wants to sell you a new car,” Dooley suggested. “Could be that he saw you in this old wreck and decided you could use a better one.”

Odelia smiled at us in her rearview mirror.“I wouldn’t mind a new car.”

Frankly she could use the replacement, since her own car is falling to pieces. And with a kid to take care of, she’d already expressed a fervent wish to trade her rusty pickup in for a family vehicle. A minivan, perhaps, or a Volvo. Though Chase was still resisting the transition, hoping she would change her mind, and buy a sporty model instead. A Porsche, maybe. Or a fancy Lexus. Knowing Odelia, though, that minivan is going to happen, whether Chase likes it or not.

“Why is it that men hate minivans so much, Max?” asked Dooley.

“I think they feel it emasculates them,” I said.

“What is emasticate, Max?”

“Emasculate,” I said, enunciating clearly. “It means that a man feels threatened in his masculinity.”

“Men of a certain age fight hard against the notion that they’re aging fast,” Odelia explained. “Especially when they become dads. It really brings home to them the fact that they’re getting older. And one of the things they use to hang onto their youth is a sports car, since a lot of boys dream of one day owning one. So now they can finally afford to buy their dream car, only they also have a family to consider, and babies and sports cars don’t go well together.”

“I think minivans are great,” I said.

“Yes, I don’t feel dismasticated one bit,” said Dooley.

“Emasculated,” I said, “with the E of Eek!”

“Let’s hope Edward Dexter invited me over to give me an electric minivan,” said Odelia. “Though somehow I doubt it.”

I did, too. Most billionaires aren’t big on giving away stuff for free. Otherwise they wouldn’t be billionaires in the first place.

She soon directed her car into the underground parking garage that caters to the Star Hotel’s clientele, and once she’d made sure her pickup was locked—though I could have told her there was no need, since no one in their right mind would steal the old thing—we headed to the elevator, and soon arrived in the lobby of the hotel, just in time for our rendezvous with the elusive Mr.Dexter.

We found the businessman in the bar, as arranged, and when he saw that Odelia hadn’t come alone, as requested, but had brought along her feline posse, a cloud passed across the man’s face. But then he seemed to mentally take the hurdle, and welcomed Odelia by spreading his arms and opening the sluice gates of charm that made him such a fixture in financial circles and socialmedia alike.

“Miss Poole,” he said warmly. “Though Dan tells me it’s Mrs. Kingsley now?”

“It is,” said Odelia, as she took the proffered seat and settled in across the table from the man.

Edward Dexter was a distinguished man in his early fifties, with an unruly mop of dirty blond hair, a patrician nose that slashed the air with decision, straight thin lips, and steely blue eyes that seemed to cut right through you.

He was also thin, which gave me the impression that he probably ran marathons when he wasn’t counting his billions or putting batteries in his battery-operated cars or flying off into space in one of his spaceships.

He was impeccably dressed in a pink shirt with blue stripe, and a tie with little bitcoin signs. All in all a man to be reckoned and definitely not trifled with.

“So what can I do for you, Mr. Dexter?” asked Odelia.

The man smiled.“Straight to the point. I like that. Yes, Odelia—may I call you Odelia?—there’s something on my mind only you can help me with, I’m afraid.”

“Oh?” she said, returning his steely glance with the noncommittal look of the reporter who’s burning with curiosity but determined not to show it.

“I don’t think he’s going to offer her a car, Max,” said Dooley.

“No, somehow I have the impression he’s in some kind of trouble,” I said, studying the man closely, just in case his intentions turned out to be less honorable than expected.

Suddenly the man’s spine seemed to collapse, and his shoulders slumped. A sad look came over him, and he said, almost in a whisper, “I’ve lost the one person most dear to me, Mrs. Kingsley. And frankly I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean?” asked Odelia.

“My daughter,” said Mr. Dexter. He glanced left and right, then lowered his voice even more. “I’m afraid she’s been taken. She might even be dead already.”

CHAPTER 7

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“When I was a young man,” Mr. Dexter explained, “still trying to find my place in the world, I was fueled by this powerful desire to be successful. A burning desire to make something of myself. You see, my family didn’t have a lot of money, and as a kid I often had to witness my mother cry when she had trouble making ends meet. So I vowed one day to become so rich that I could buy her a big house, and set her up with all the amenities she needed, making sure she was happy and didn’t have to worry about money ever again. And it was this desire that fueled me all these years, and led me to where I am today.”

“One of the wealthiest men in the country,” said Odelia, who was probably thinking this was newspaper gold. Then again, I wasn’t sure the billionaire was pouring his heart out for the purposes of an article.

“The only problem was that I was so busy setting up one business after the other, and trying to find a way to hit the big time, that I neglected my personal life, to such an extent that I didn’t even bother to look for a partner. And so when I finally managed to make my first million, I found myself alone, with no one to share my success with, apart from my parents, who were understandably proud, but also worried that I would end up alone.”

“But at least you were able to fulfill your dream,” said Odelia.

He nodded, and when a server came, he ordered drinks for both himself and Odelia. The moment the man was out of earshot, he resumed his tale.“When I was thirty, I finally met someone through a mutual friend, and within a year we were married and pregnant with our daughter. Only disaster struck and my wife was taken from me. Luckily the doctors managed to save the child, and ever since that day Addie has been the most important person in my life. We’ve always been close, to the point that I see her taking over from me at the head of the company one day. She is that smart, that driven, and as dedicated as me.”

“But you said she’s gone missing?”

“Yes, about two months ago Addie went on a coast-to-coast road trip with her boyfriend Ted. Ted Machosko. I wasn’t too worried, as she’s a responsible person, and so is Ted. And besides, these days it’s so easy to stay in touch, through your phone or Skype or whatever.”

“So what happened?”

“Well, for the first part of the trip she reported back to me almost daily. I’d told her the only way I was going to allow her to go was if she took along a state-of-the-art satellite phone, hooked up to one of my satellites, just in case she passed through an area with bad cell phone reception. And I also told her to call me every day. And for a couple of weeks everything seemed to be going really well. She was happy, posting little videos of their trip, and regular updates on her social media. But then all of a sudden two weeks ago the updates stopped, and she alsostopped calling. So obviously I got worried, but when I tried calling, there was no connection. As if she’d disappeared from the face of the earth.”

“Did you try to pinpoint her location through her phone?”

“Yes, of course. Only both of her phones had stopped transmitting a signal. Either she’d turned them off or…” A look of despair filled his eyes. “Or they were destroyed. I contacted the local authorities of the last place where she was seen, and one man, a gas station owner, remembered seeing her and Ted pull up with their RV and fill up their tank. But that’s the last time anyone saw them. Addie, Ted, the RV—gone. Not a trace of them.” The server returned with their drinks— coffee for the battery tycoon and tea for Odelia, and once the man was gone, he continued, “It’s been two weeks, and frankly I’m at the end of my rope, Mrs. Kingsley.”

“Odelia, please.”

He smiled weakly.“Which is when I remembered our interview, and Dan telling me you have a knack for solving unsolvable crimes in this town.”

“Dan is too kind,” Odelia muttered modestly.

“I want you to know that I’ve practically abandoned any hope of ever seeing my daughter alive again.”

“You think something happened to her?”

“I do. This isn’t like Addie. She would never just disappear on me like that. Either she was abducted or… worse.”

Odelia nodded as she toyed with her teabag.“Where was she last seen?”

“Well, that’s just it,” said Mr. Dexter. “You’d think she would have disappeared in the desert, or some godforsaken place in the middle of nowhere. But the last person to see her alive said he saw them head in the direction of town.”

Odelia frowned.“What town?”

“Well, your town. Hampton Cove.”

CHAPTER 8

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“How can anyone disappear in Hampton Cove?” asked Dooley. “This town is so small, it’s impossible to disappear, even if you wanted to.”

Odelia was still engaged in a discussion with Edward Dexter, jotting down a few more details about his daughter and her boyfriend, but Dooley and I were one step ahead: we were already thinking how we could be instrumental in finding this lost daughter.

“I guess a person could disappear anywhere,” I said. “Especially if that person didn’t want to be found.” We exchanged a meaningful look.

“You think Addie Dexter and her dad fell out and now she doesn’t want him to find her?”

“It’s certainly a possibility,” I said. “Maybe their relationship wasn’t as harmonious as Mr. Dexter is leading us to believe, and Addie felt the only way to sever the relationship with her parent was to disappear. You have to understand that a man like Dexter has a lot of resources at his disposal to track down his daughter, so she would have to come up with a plan if she didn’t want to be found.”

“But they seem to get along so well, father and daughter. And he’s even training her to be his successor.”

“Well, maybe that’s the whole point, Dooley. Maybe Addie doesn’t want to be his successor, but he’s forcing her to follow in his footsteps.”

“Maybe she wants to be a juggler instead,” said Dooley.

I eyed him with a touch of skepticism.“Why a juggler?”

“Why not? Maybe she joined a traveling circus and is now living the dream as an anonymous juggler named Jackie. Jackie the Juggler.”

“And what about her boyfriend? Is he a juggler, too?”

“No, he’s probably a clown.” He sighed and gave me a fervent sort of look. “I’ll bet they’re very happy together, Max. Living in their circus caravan, surrounded by a warm and loving community of other circus artists, just like them.”

“Mh,” I said, though I had to admit it was certainly something we needed to look into. It wouldn’t be that hard to find out if a circus had traveled through town. Perhaps they were still in town, and Addie was performing her juggling tricks in plain sight for the whole world to see. Though she would have to disguise herself, of course.

“If she has joined the circus, I think we should respect her choice and not tell her dad,” said Dooley, getting ahead of himself a little. “I think we owe it to this young couple’s future happiness. And Mr. Dexter will simply have to find himself a different person to succeed him at the head of his multi-billion-dollar corporation.”

“Yes, well, there’s also the other possibility,” I pointed out.

“What possibility?”

“That foul play is involved.”

He gaped at me.“You mean…”

“That Addie Dexter has come to harm, and is now wounded or… dead.”

He clasped a paw to his furry face, a look of distinct shock in his eyes.“Oh, no!”

“Oh, yes. When a person is missing for so long, and no ransom demand has been made, it’s possible that something happened to her and she’s dead. Could be that Addie and Ted were in the wrong place at the wrong time, bumped into some bad people, and were murdered, the murderers having disposedof the bodies.”

“Oh, Max, we have to find her body! We owe it to her grieving father to bury his daughter!”

And gone was the notion that Mr. Dexter was in fact the bad guy, driving his one and only daughter to face an uncertain future as a traveling juggler. At any rate, it was a mystery we certainly could be instrumental in solving. Cats are part of a large community, and so if Addie Dexter had passed through town, chances were that one of our kind had seen her, and so it behooved us to find out what had happened to the missing girl.

“One last thing, Odelia,” said Mr. Dexter. The meeting was coming to a close, and the billionaire and Odelia had risen to their feet and Dooley and I to our paws. “This is very important. Could you conduct your investigation in absolute discretion, please?”

“Of course.”

“For now, don’t write about Addie’s disappearance in your paper. You’ll notice that I haven’t launched a public appeal. I haven’t gone on television or to the papers, and for good reason. Once people find out about what happened, this town will be overrun with fortune seekers. The fact that Addie is my daughter will bring out the worst in people. And trust me, I’ve seen it happen before, and it’s the last thing I want.”

“You mean people will try to cash in on a possible reward?”

“Oh, absolutely. It’s going to be a gold rush, and before you know it, hundreds or perhaps thousands will flock to Hampton Cove, destroying potential clues and hampering your investigation.”

“I’ll be discreet,” Odelia promised. “I will only confide in people I absolutely trust, and won’t tell anyone anything they don’t need to know.”

“Thank you so much,” said Mr. Dexter, and I could tell that he was touched, as he held onto Odelia’s hands and shook them warmly.

“Oh, look, Max. It’s Gran,” said Dooley.

And indeed: through the window that offered an excellent view of the outside dining area, Gran was staring intently in our direction, her face practically plastered to the glass, and looking none too pleased for some reason.

“She’ll be able to help Odelia find Addie Dexter,” said Dooley. “Gran knows everyone in town, and people trust her.”

“Mh,” I said. Gran’s face spelled storm, her lips moving wordlessly as she stared daggers in our direction. Whatever was bothering her, it seemed big.

But then Odelia and Mr. Dexter said their goodbyes for now, and Odelia even gave the stricken billionaire a warm hug, and so I soon forgot all about Gran’s strange behavior. We had a clear mission: find Addie Dexter and bring her home to her dad. And by golly I was going to do my darndest to make it happen.

We passed out of the bar and soon were going down to the parking garage in that same elevator.

“Well?” asked Odelia. “What do you think?”

“I think she’s a juggler,” said Dooley, firmly sticking to his theory. “But Max thinks she was murdered.”

“I don’t think she was murdered,” I protested. “All I said was that either she disappeared voluntarily, or else she came to some kind of harm, in which case we need to find out what happened.”

“I’m not sure I’m the right person for the job,” Odelia confessed. “I didn’t tell Mr. Dexter, of course, but if the police can’t find this girl, what chance do I have?”

“In other words: Mr. Dexter gave you a mission impossible,” I said.

“More or less,” she said thoughtfully.

“Did he promise you a new car if you find his daughter?” asked Dooley.

“No, he did not,” said Odelia with a laugh. “Though there is a reward.”

“Reward money? How much?” asked Dooley.

“Fifty thousand. The man is desperate, I could tell.”

“Poor man,” said Dooley. “He probably won’t be happy to know that his daughter wants to be a juggler, but he still needs to be told.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Odelia suggested as we climbed back into her car. “Let’s take this one step at a time, and approach the problem methodically.”

“In other words, you want us to start talking to potential witnesses,” I said.

“Yes, please, Max,” said Odelia. “And in the meantime I’ll go and have a little chat with my uncle.”

“You think your uncle kidnapped Addie?” Dooley asked.

“No, Dooley, but as the chief of police he will know about Addie Dexter’s disappearance, and possible leads that have been pursued.” She shrugged as she started the car. “No sense in going over the same territory twice.”

CHAPTER 9

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Vesta Muffin had been savoring a cup of hot chocolate with plenty of cream on top and some colorful sprinkles. It was a daily ritual she enjoyed with her best friend Scarlett Canyon. Both women were seated in the outside dining area of the Star Hotel, when she happened to see her granddaughter Odelia in earnest conversation with that billionaire guy. That Edward Dexter. He of the cars and the satellites and the rocket ships.

“Hey, isn’t that Odelia?” said Scarlett, who had noticed the same thing.

“Mh,” said Vesta, not well pleased. “I wonder what she’s up to.”

“Probably interviewing the guy for the paper,” Scarlett suggested, as she took a sip from her frappuccino, then took a nibble from her chocolate chip cookie.

“I hope so. I wouldn’t like to be the one having to tell her husband that his wife was caught cheating on him with a billionaire.”

“Oh, dear,” said Scarlett. “And they just had a baby, too.”

“It happens,” said Vesta with a sigh of disapproval. “It’s a hormonal thing, or so I’ve been told. So soon after giving birth a woman’s body is a raging cauldron of hormones, and it’s at times like these, when they’re so very vulnerable, that these billionaire playboys will strike.”

She narrowed her eyes at the couple, and saw to her surprise that Odelia seemed to be leaning in, as if to comfort the billionaire, who was holding his head in his hands, clearly in the grip of some powerful emotion.

Her expression hardened.“Not on my watch,” she growled. She was a firm believer in live and let live, and for a person to chart their own course through life, but not when the wellbeing of her great-granddaughter was at stake.

“Such a pity,” said Scarlett, gently tut-tutting even as she studied the big chunk of cherry cream cake she’d placed on her fork, preparatory to unloading its rich flavor onto her tongue and let her taste buds have at it. “And here I thought they were such a devoted couple, Odelia and Chase.”

“That’s what I thought,” Vesta said as she weighed her options. She’d already taken out her phone and was snapping a couple of shots of the lovebirds, and shot a short video for good measure. She hadn’t yet formulated a plan of campaign, but at least she’d have visual evidence of Odelia’s affair with the billionaire.

“On the other hand, it must be nice to have a billionaire in the family,” Scarlett said. “I mean, I like Chase, don’t get me wrong, but a cop’s salary doesn’t exactly stretch very far, when you get right down to it. And I’ve always wanted one of those electric cars.”

Vesta shot her friend a not-so-friendly look.

“What? What did I say?”

“I don’t believe this,” said Vesta, shaking her head.

“It doesn’t have to be a big one. A small one will do.”

“So you’d throw over Chase, just on the off chance that this Dexter fella would get you an electric car.”

“Well, electric cars happen to be the future, and unfortunately they’re too expensive for my budget.” She shrugged. “A girl can dream, can’t she?”

“Dream on,” Vesta growled. “Odelia is breaking up with Chase over my dead body.” And to show her friend she wasn’t kidding, she promptly got up and headed over to the window, which offered an excellent view of the bar, where the frolicking couple were enjoying those first happy moments ofa new courtship. And as she snapped a couple more pictures, she suddenly noticed that Max and Dooley were seated right next to her granddaughter’s chair!

“Well, I’ll be damned,” she grunted.

“What is it?” Scarlett asked, and since she hadn’t noticed her friend joining her at the window, she jumped a foot in the air, and almost dropped her phone.

“What are you thinking, sneaking up on me like that!” she cried.

“He is handsome, isn’t he? And a widower, if Wikipedia is to be believed.”

“Look, there’s no way I’m allowing my granddaughter to hook up with this guy, so just get those sordid thoughts out of your head right now.”

“Oh, all right,” said Scarlett. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

“I’m putting an end to this right now,” she said, and got busy typing a strongly worded message, adding the video and the pictures she shot as evidence. “There,” she said. “Now let’s see her ignoring her duties as a wife and mother now.”

Not to mention a pet parent. What was she thinking, dragging those impressionable cats along to her date with a billionaire? Didn’t she know that setting a bad example like that could scar those precious little dears for life?

“If this family didn’t have me,” she said, taking her position at the table again, “God knows what kind of trouble they’d get into.”

CHAPTER 10

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Marge Poole was assisting her husband in the backyard, weeding and removing dead leaves and heads from their precious flowers. She was outfitted for the occasion with rubber gardening gloves, her straw gardening hat and her gardening boots, and as the sun shone down on her back, she felt intensely satisfied when she regarded her work: the flowerbed that had been infested by weeds and bugs and whatnot once again looked vividly colorful and full of life—the kind of life your amateur gardener likes to see: absolutely devoid of pests.

“So what do you think, honey?” asked her husband, who was manicuring his herbaceous border until it looked fit for duty.

“About what?” she asked, taking a firmer grip on her little trowel.

“Well, Ted’s idea about the landscaper.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “Is it really worth the expense? I mean, we only have a very modest little garden, so I don’t think a landscaper will have enough to work with, let alone a gardener.”

“But we could join forces, us and the Trappers: get rid of that hedge and join our two backyards into one big one.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” she said as she dug her trowel into the earth. “That hedge is there for a reason. It’s so we can have some privacy, and so can the Trappers. Otherwise what’s the point of having your own backyard? We could just as well cut down all the hedges and all the fences in the entire neighborhood and create a park.”

“Now why didn’t I think of that?” said Tex. “We should create one big park where all the kids could play! And then I could organize a barbecue for the entire neighborhood! Now wouldn’t that be fun?”

She gave her husband a skeptical look, which passed right over his head.“Let’s give it some more thought, shall we?” she suggested. Most of her husband’s more harebrained ideas rarely survived a couple of days’ serious reflection. Once Tex saw how impractical his idea was, he forgot all about it. Besides, she liked to do some sunbathing in her backyard from time to time, and if they cut down that hedge, that would be a thing of the past. No woman likes to sunbathe with the Ted Trappers of this world breathing down their neck.

Her phone buzzed, alerting her that a message had arrived, and she took it out of the front pocket of her gardening coveralls. When she saw the first line of the message, she frowned.‘Evidence of YOUR daughter’s CHEATING WAYS!!!!!!’

“Now what?” she murmured. At the same time, her husband’s phone also dinged, and for a moment they both studied the message Ma had sent. Then they turned to face each other, their mouths agape.

“I don’t believe this,” said Tex.

“Neither do I,” Marge agreed.

But there it was, clear as day: video and pictures of their one and only daughter, her arms around famous billionaire Edward Dexter, clearly having an intimate moment!

Just then, Grace made a gurgling sound. The little girl had been safely ensconced in her playpen, which Marge had placed on the terrace for the occasion, with a big umbrella to shade the little one from the sun.

“Oh, dear,” said Marge as she brought a distraught hand to her face. “What’s going to become of Grace now?!”

CHAPTER 11

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“Okay, Rufus, it’s very important that you do exactly as I say.” Harriet gave the sheepdog a hard look, hoping her words would penetrate the big dog’s sluggish brain. “There’s a certain routine we need to nail down, and when I say nail, I do mean you’ll have to nail it if you want to stand a chance at winning that gold cup.”

“Gold cup?” said Rufus. “I thought being selected Best in Show came with a year’s supply of Dog Snax?”

“Yes, it does, but more importantly, you will take home that very beautiful and very coveted gold cup.”

Rufus gave her a look of confusion.“Now what do I want with a gold cup?”

“You can put it on your mantelpiece,” said Harriet, trying to hold onto her equanimity. Now she understood why all the dog trainers she’d seen on YouTube all looked old and gray. Dealing with dogs took a lot of patience, which was wearing really thin by now. “It’s all about the honor,” she said, when Rufus still didn’t get it. “You want to make your humans proud, don’t you?”

“Well, sure,” said Rufus.

“So? That cup will make Ted and Marcie very happy. They’ll be able to show it off to their friends and family.”

“And that’s what makes them happy? Being able to show off a gold cup?”

“Of course. Humans love to show off to other humans. It’s one of their favorite pastimes. They buy cars so they can show them off to the neighbors. Clothes to show off to their colleagues. Husbands to show off to their friends. Wives to show off to their golf buddies. That’s why they call it a trophy wife. Now let’s take it from the top. You have to jump over that hurdle, and make sure you don’t trip.”

They’d selected one of Ted’s hideous gnomes as a standin for the first hurdle in the concourse, and if Rufus managed to clear it in one go, he just might stand a chance. So far he hadn’t been able to, but they still had plenty of time. The competition was next Saturday, which should be a cinch… for a talented dog.

“Such a pity that Fifi couldn’t join us,” said Brutus, who was Harriet’s co-trainer. “It would have been nice if Rufus and Fifi could have trained together.”

“Fifi decided she didn’t need our services,” said Harriet with a touch of hauteur. “So if she doesn’t make it into the competition, it’s her own fault.”

“I know, but maybe one of us should go over there and try to talk to her again. It might give Rufus a boost. Just look how unhappy the big guy looks.”

They both eyed the big sheepdog with a critical eye, and Harriet had to admit her partner was correct: Rufus did look a little lethargic. Even as he approached the big gnome, his heart didn’t seem to be in it. And as he jumped, trying to clear the hurdle, once again he managed to topple the thing.

“You have to take a running leap!” Harriet yelled. “How many times do I have to tell you!” Shaking her head, she stalked over to her inept pupil, and proceeded to put the gnome upright again. “Yuck, it’s slimy,” she said as she quickly removed her paw from the monstrosity.

“It’s the snails,” said Rufus sadly. “They have been crawling all over the garden, sliming everything. It’s driving Ted and Marcie crazy.”

“Okay, let’s try again,” said Harriet, the fate of her neighbors’ backyard not of any concern to her. “And this time I want to see some energy! Some vigor!”

“Yes, Harriet,” said Rufus with a deep sigh, and slouched off to give it another shot.

No, his heart clearly wasn’t in it. And so with the quickness of decision that was typical of her, she decided that Brutus was right, and that Fifi had to be conciliated, whatever the cost.

“Brutus, better go and apologize to Fifi,” she said therefore. “And tell her to join us.”

“You want me to apologize?” said Brutus.

“Of course. I can’t apologize. I’m the trainer. And apologizing to a trainee would undermine my position. Whereas you are merely an assistant trainer, which means your role is to get in good with the trainees. Boost morale.”

“If you say so,” said Brutus dubiously.

“It’s a good cop, bad cop kind of situation,” she explained, seeing that her mate hadn’t fully grasped the concept. “Now get her over here. And quick, before I lose my patience!”

She watched Brutus toddle off, and shook her head. If she’d known how hard this training thing was going to be, she would never have accepted the position.

And as Rufus scratched his flank with one of his hind legs, trying to work out what he was doing wrong, Harriet’s keen ears picked up an interesting conversation taking place one backyard over.

“I can’t believe this,” Marge was saying. “Odelia cheating on Chase with Edward Dexter? It’s impossible.”

“And yet here’s the photographic evidence,” Tex said. “Our daughter, in the arms of that playboy billionaire.”

“But why? I thought she and Chase were so happy.”

“If there’s one thing I know, it’s that it’s very hard to know what goes on in other people’s marriages, honey. Odelia may look happy, but clearly she isn’t, otherwise she would never throw herself into the arms of another man like this.”

“Poor Chase. And poor Grace. What’s going to become of that poor baby?”

“Odelia will get custody, of course. And Chase will get visitation rights. And then Grace will have a billionaire for a daddy. Which maybe isn’t such a bad thing.”

“How can you say that! I thought you loved Chase like a son?”

“I do love Chase like a son, but what can we do? We’ll just have to accept that soon we’ll have Edward Dexter as our son-in-law.”

“It must be one of those things,” said Marge. “A coup de foudre. It happens.”

“And clearly it happened to Odelia.”

And as the disturbing discussion raged on, suddenly Harriet caught sight of an even more upsetting sight: Marcie Trapper stood listening very carefully to the conversation next door, and from the red flush of her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes, she was enjoying every single moment, and recording it for posterity—or so she could spread the terrible news to the rest of the neighborhood!

CHAPTER 12

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We found Uncle Alec in his office, from where he oversees the law enforcement efforts of his troops. Though when we entered the office, the Chief wasn’t overseeing his troops so much as staring out of the window, idly gazing in the direction of Town Hall, where his girlfriend is mayor of our town.

The moment we walked in, he quickly turned, as if caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, relaxing again.

“Who did you think it was?” said Odelia as she joined him at the window. “And what are you looking at?”

Her uncle heaved a deep sigh, replete with silent sorrow.“It’s Charlene.”

“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?”

He gave his niece a strange look.“Funny you should say that. Charlene wants to go on holiday with me.”

“So? Isn’t that great?”

“It would be our first holiday together. And you know what they say about a couple’s first holiday?”

“That they’re fun? Exciting? Practically like a honeymoon?”

“A minefield. And possibly a death knell for the relationship.”

Odelia laughed.“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you know how it is. Now we see each other from time to time. Some evenings we spend at my place, some at her place, and some evenings we spend alone, and I like it like that. Things are going well, so why change things up?”

“Okay, but if Charlene wants to go on holiday with you, what’s so bad about that?”

“Everything!” he said, throwing up his arms in a gesture of despair. “We’ll spend every single minute of every single day together, and before you know it the inevitable will happen and we’ll get into a fight, and then it will be all over!”

“Or you could have a great time together and grow closer as a couple.”

“I doubt it,” the Chief grumbled, clasping his hands behind his back and scowling at a passing bird that had done him no harm whatsoever. “Once she gets to know me—the real me—she’ll get tired soon enough. She’ll complain that I snore too much, eat too much, drink too much and that myfeet are too cold.”

“If your feet were cold she’d know it by now. Same thing about the snoring, or the eating and the drinking. You’ve been together how long now?”

“A year,” the Chief grunted unhappily.

“If she didn’t like you, don’t you think she would have left already?”

“I dunno,” he mumbled.

“Look, the fact that she wants to go on holiday together is a big step, Uncle Alec. It means she’s serious about this relationship, and she wants to move forward. Take the next big step.”

He looked up, startled.“You mean… move in together?”

Odelia nodded.“Why not? You like her, she likes you, and you have to admit you’re good together.”

“But I don’t want to move in together!”

“Just take this trip,” Odelia suggested. “And if everything works out and you end up having a great time, which I know you will, you can think about the next step.”

“I don’t want there to be a next step,” he grumbled. “I like this step.”

Odelia smiled, and patted her uncle on the back.“It’s going to be all right,” she assured him. “Just you wait and see.”

He gave her a funny look.“Look, I know you’re a big girl, Odelia, but don’t you think that what you’re doing right now…” He hesitated, then tried again. “I mean, you know I like Chase, don’t you? In fact I love the guy like the son I never had.”

“Of course I know that,” said Odelia. “And I’m sure he does, too.”

“So…” But the Chief shook his head, then grunted, “It’s none of my business.”

Odelia frowned, but didn’t pursue the matter. It was obvious her uncle was working through some personal issues, and needed time to figure things out.

“So what do you want, anyway?” he asked, returning to his desk, where a large portrait of Charlene stood facing us. He took it in one of his big hands, studied it for a moment, sighed deeply, and put it in one of his drawers, shoving it shut.

“I’ve been asked by Edward Dexter to find out what happened to his daughter,” said Odelia, not wasting time getting to the point.

Uncle Alec’s brow furrowed at the mention of the billionaire’s name. “Dexter,” he growled, as if the man had personally insulted him. “Does Chase know about this?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“So it’s official, is it?”

“Of course. Though I doubt he’ll have time to help me find Ed’s daughter.”

“Mh,” said the Chief, staring at his niece with a dubious sort of look on his mug. “Okay, go on. What’s this about a missing daughter?”

“Well, Addie Dexter went on a road trip with her boyfriend Ted a couple of weeks ago. The idea was that they would travel from coast to coast in their RV, so they set out from San Francisco and were going to drive all the way up to Montauk, then south to Florida to join Ed, who’s got a place down there. Only they never made it past Hampton Cove, and disappeared without a trace two weeks ago. No messages, no phone calls, and her phone was switched off. So Ed is worried.”

“Naturally,” the Chief grumbled unhappily.

“He told me he reported Addie and Ted missing, so I was wondering about the state of the investigation. He felt fobbed off, so I wanted to check in with you.”

“What I would like to know is why this guy,” said the Chief, planting two beefy arms on his blotter and fixing his niece with a critical look. “Why Ed Dexter? Is it the money? I mean, I know Chase isn’t a billionaire, but money isn’t everything, honey. Chase has heart, and that’s what matters. And he’s got plenty of it.”

“I know he does, Uncle Alec,” said Odelia. “But he also has a job to do, so I can’t ask him to find Addie. And besides, like I said, Edward tells me he already talked to the police, and they couldn’t help him.”

“He didn’t talk to me, that’s for sure. If he had, I’d remember.”

“I think he talked to Randal. Who told him that Addie probably decided to go off the grid for a while. Kids do that kind of stuff all the time. He told him not to worry.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Randal, all right,” said the Chief with a grimace. “So why didn’t he bring his case to me? I would have organized a search. Clearly if this girl has gone missing, we need to find her.”

“He doesn’t want to involve too many people,” Odelia explained. “He’s afraid that the media will get hold of the story, and then all hell will break loose.”

“Yeah, I can see his point,” the Chief admitted reluctantly. “If word got out that Edward Dexter’s daughter went missing in Hampton Cove, every nut in the country would descend on this town, hoping to collect whatever reward money they can get.” He arched an inquisitive eyebrow. “There is a reward, isn’t there?”

“There is, but obviously I’m not going to collect it if I find Addie. I told him to donate the money to a charity of his choice. But first I have to find the girl.”

“Mh, I’ll bet he’ll give you some other reward, too,” the Chief muttered, earning himself an odd glance from his niece.

“Look, I understand that you don’t like Edward,” said the latter. “Most people don’t. And I admit he’s an acquired taste. But once you get to know him, he’s a wonderful man. Sensitive, intelligent, and very, very worried about his daughter.”

“Of course, of course,” said the Chief, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Talk to Randal. Ask him what he discovered, if anything. And then tell me.”

“Okay, fine,” said the Chief, getting up. But before he reached the door, he turned, and gave his niece an earnest look, placing both hands on her shoulders. “I just… I hope you know what you’re doing, honey.”

“Of course,” said Odelia, surprised by the man’s heartfelt look and the moistness of his eyes. “And thank you for taking this to heart, Uncle Alec.”

“How could I not,” said the Chief, choking up.

CHAPTER 13

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

“Look, Fifi, Harriet didn’t mean what she said. Of course you’re a great candidate. I bet you can even win this whole thing.”

Fifi gave Brutus a look that was devoid of those warm sentiments the little dog usually reserved for her friends and neighbors.

“I heard what I heard, Brutus,” she said. “And besides, if Harriet wants to apologize, why doesn’t she do it herself? Why send you?”

“I told you already. Because she’s so busy training Rufus. Getting him ready for the big show.” Brutus would have wiped away a bead of sweat, if he could have without Fifi noticing. This apologizing thing was harder than he thought. And besides, Fifi was right: it should have been Harriet pouring apologetic phrases into the little Yorkie’s ear, not him.

“Look, don’t you want to train together with Rufus? Work as a team?”

“There’s no I in team, Brutus,” said Fifi haughtily. “And since a dog show isn’t a team effort, it’s every dog for himself from now on. And that goes for Rufus, too!”

“But he’s floundering, Fifi! Rufus is suffering. His head isn’t in the game, and if only you would join him, I just know he’d be over the moon.”

“He should have thought of that before he hired Harriet as his personal trainer.”

“But…”

“No means no, Brutus. Rufus and I go our separate ways, and that’s my final word.”

And then she stalked off in the direction of her own backyard, presumably to continue her training. Brutus watched her leave, and a distinct sense of doom and gloom settled over him. But only for a moment. He was, after all, a cat not particularly prone to experiencing the finer emotions, and so he quickly shrugged off Fifi’s refusal. If she wanted to go it alone, so be it. It was her funeral. And if Rufus didn’t want to put his back into it, then that was his business.

And as he set paw in the direction of the Trappers’ backyard, where most of the action was taking place, he suddenly caught sight of a peculiar creature. If his eyes didn’t deceive him, it was one of those creatures that carry their own house on their back. Which had always struck him as very inconvenient. Imagine he would carry an entire house on his back. He’d never get anywhere. Which was probably why these snails, as they were called, moved so infernally slow.

“Pssst!” the snail was saying.

It was located on the leaf of his favorite rose bush, the one he and Harriet liked to single out when they were feeling frisky.

He toddled over, wondering what this snail wanted from him. Maybe to help carry its load?

“Hey, cat!” the snail said, indicating that it really did want speech with him.

So he approached the creature, took a tentative sniff, and said,“What do you want?” He wasn’t feeling in a particularly bonhomous mood. He might not care that Fifi was out of the race, but he did care about Harriet’s opinion, and he knew that when he returned empty-pawed, so to speak, she would be none too happy.

“I talked to one of your lot this morning,” the snail announced, “and after he saved me from that bird, I promised I’d make it worth his while.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” said Brutus.

“It wasn’t you. It was some orange fatty,” said the snail.

Brutus grinned.“Yeah, that’s Max. He’s pretty fat, and pretty orange. But don’t tell him I said that. He doesn’t like it when you call him—”

“Fat?”

“Orange. So Max saved your life, did he? Typical. He’s always saving someone from something.”

“Okay, so now I’m confused. Is this Max a friend of yours or what?”

“I guess you could say that,” Brutus admitted. He and Max might not always see eye to eye, but he did consider him one of his best pals.

“Could you give him a message from me? I would tell him myself, but I gotta run.”

Brutus laughed. A running snail. Now there was something he’d never seen before. But the snail seemed dead serious.

“Just tell him that this blue moon business we talked about this morning is happening tonight. I can smell it.”

“That’s it?” asked Brutus.

“Yeah, he’ll know what I mean,” said the snail. “So you’ll deliver the message?”

“Of course. Blue moon happening tonight. Got it.”

“Thanks, buddy,” said the snail, and started moving down the flower’s stem, at a snail’s pace.

“What’s your name, by the way?” asked Brutus, watching the snail’s progress with fascination.

“Rupert,” said the snail. “You?”

“Brutus.”

“Well, see you around, Brutus,” said Rupert. “And don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

“What bed bugs? What are you talking about?”

But Rupert had disappeared into the rose bush’s inner workings, and so their discussion was at an end.

Brutus shrugged and went on his way. He hated being the bearer of bad news, especially when the recipient was Harriet. But that couldn’t be helped.

Moments later he was lumbering through the hole in the hedge, and when he came face to face with his beloved, and she saw he was alone, she tsk-tsked freely.

“She doesn’t want our help!” he cried. “And I couldn’t make her, could I?”

“Fifi isn’t coming?” asked Rufus in his big, booming voice.

“Nah. She wants to go it alone,” said Brutus.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” said Rufus, and promptly plunked down on the grass and proceeded to stare off into space, looking sad and despondent.

“Now look what you’ve done!” Harriet whispered. “Our star pupil, and you’ve taken the wind right out of his sails!”

“I didn’t take any wind out of any sails. Fifi did,” he argued. But it was no good, of course. They’d lost what could very well have been a shoo-in for the big prize, now a victim to a distinct lack of motivation.

“I should have known,” said Harriet, as she threw her star a nasty look. “Never work with children or dogs. Everybody knows that, so why did I think I could make it work?”

And since the training was on hiatus for the moment, they both wandered back into their own backyard, where Marge and Tex still stood discussing the future of their daughter’s marriage.

“Oh, that’s right,” said Harriet. “I almost forgot to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“Odelia and Chase are getting a divorce.”

He stared at his mate.“What?!”

“Yeah, Odelia is having an affair with a billionaire. Edward Dexter, the guy who makes those exploding cars and shoots celebrities into space? Well, he’s her new beau, and so she’s kicking Chase to the curb.”

Brutus produced a low whistle.“Well, how about that?”

“Yeah, and so she’ll probably sell the house and move in with him, cause who wants to live in a dump like this when you can live in a castle?”

“Edward Dexter lives in a castle?”

“He’s a billionaire, Brutus. Of course he lives in a castle.” A dreamy look came into her eyes. “I’ll bet he’s got the best cat food in the world. The good stuff, flown in from Fiji.”

“What’s a Fiji?”

“It’s a country, Brutus. Try to keep up, will you?”

“Okay,” he said, having a hard time doing just that. “So what’s going to happen to Grace?”

“Oh, she’ll live with us, of course.”

“Us? You mean you and me and Chase?”

Harriet gave him a scathing look.“Of course not. You and me and Odelia and Mr. Billionaire Playboy.”

“Okay,” he said. But then a thought occurred to him. “So what about Chase? Where is he going to live?”

Technically Chase was still his human, so it probably mattered a great deal where he was going to live, for he might insist that Brutus live with him, away from the others.

“Who cares where Chase lives? He’ll probably go crawling back to New York, his tail between his legs.”

“Chase has a tail?” he asked. He’d never noticed.

“Oh, Brutus,” said Harriet with a look of exasperation. “Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t find myself a playboy billionaire.”

CHAPTER 14

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

Officer Randal Skip had neglected to do his duty when he told Addie Dexter’s dad that he shouldn’t worry. That his daughter was probably having a great time off-grid with her boyfriend, and that she’d be home soon. After Uncle Alec had told Officer Skip what he thought of such dereliction of duty, he informed Odelia of same, and so when we were out in the parking lot in front of the police station, Odelia summed things up nicely when she said, “I guess we’re exactly nowhere, you guys.”

“I think that’s exactly true,” I riposted.

“At least now we know that Addie is having a great time with her boyfriend off-grid and she’ll be home soon,” said Dooley, as usual offering an alternative view of things.

“I very much doubt Addie is having a great time,” I told my friend. “From what Edward told us, Addie would never leave her father in the dark like this. So unless she and her dad had a falling-out, I think it’s safe to assume something bad happened to her. And it’s up to us to find out what.”

“I hope Chase has some idea of where to start,” said Odelia as she headed in the direction of her car. “Cause I sure don’t.”

And we’d almost reached the car when a familiar face inserted itself between ourselves and Odelia’s pickup.

“So is it true?” asked this person. “Are congratulations in order?”

It was Ida Baumgartner, one of our small town’s biggest gossips, and also Tex’s most loyal patient, with always some new disease to keep the doctor on his toes.

“Congratulations?” asked Odelia. “Oh, you mean Grace.”

“That’s right, Grace. What’s going to happen to the little one?”

“Why, she’ll stay with us, of course,” said Odelia, puzzled.

“I thought so,” said Ida, nodding knowingly. “I told Rory Suds that Grace would stay with you, and I’m happy to know I was right.” She patted Odelia on the arm. “It’s always best in these cases, trust me. And I do hope you won’t leave us. Hampton Cove could use this shot in the arm.In fact this just might be the best thing to happen to this town in a long time. It’s going to put us on the map. Tourism will get a big boost, of course, not to mention the local economy.” She beamed upon Odelia like a proud mother goose upon a favorite gosling. “Well done, you. Well done.” She placed her hands together in impromptu applause. Then she was off again, leaving us to stare after her, much bewildered.

“What was that all about?” I asked once we were back in the car.

“I have no idea,” said Odelia. “Maybe Ida finally lost her last marble?”

“I didn’t know Ida still played with marbles,” said Dooley.

But at that moment Odelia’s phone belted out a tune and she picked up with a cheerful, “Just the person I need! Can you help me find Addie Dexter?”

“Why? Did you lose her?” Chase’s voice sounded through the car.

“I didn’t, but her dad did.”

“So how was it?”

“The poor man is devastated.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call him poor,” said Chase. “I googled the guy, and as of this morning he’s worth two hundred billion dollars.”

“Not bad for a guy who sells cars,” Odelia quipped. “But seriously, his daughter Addie went missing on a road trip, and he asked me to find her.”

“Why? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think you’re crazy talented, babe. But you’re not exactly a professional people finder.”

“He doesn’t want to attract attention, and he’s heard good things about me. Mainly from Dan, but still. And it helps that I know this town like the back of my hand.”

“This girl went missing in Hampton Cove?”

“That’s right.”

“Of course I’ll help you. But are you sure you don’t want your uncle to organize a search party?”

“Like I said, Edward wants to handle this on the down-low. He’s afraid that once word gets out this town will turn into a circus.”

“See?” said Dooley. “I knew she’d joined the circus. Her and her boyfriend.”

“Okay, so it’s just the two of us, huh?”

“I’m afraid so,” said Odelia.

“Great. As if I didn’t have enough to contend with at the moment.”

“Tough day at the office?”

“Something like that. Listen, I’ll see you tonight, and then we can talk this thing through and get organized. I’ll tell your uncle to give me the rest of the week off and we’ll find this girl. How does that sound?”

“Like music to my ears, babe.”

“Circus music,” said Dooley.

CHAPTER 15

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

Dooley felt adamant that he was on the right track when it came to finding Addie Dexter. She’d probably had a taste of freedom, with this long road trip she’d taken, and didn’t want to go back to her old life, which she probably saw as the proverbial golden cage now. And so she’d decided to join a traveling circus.

And a good thing, too!

Why shouldn’t a person join the circus? It was a fun life, juggling balls and cones for a living. You met all kinds of interesting people, fraternized with lions and elephants, and you could sleep under the stars—or was that traveling hobos?

At any rate, all he had to do now was to convince Max of his idea, and that’s where he’d hit a snag. His friend might have a brilliant mind, but he also had a stubborn streak, and wasn’t always open to new ideas when they didn’t fit in with his own ideas.

“I still think we should look into this circus thing, Max,” he said therefore. “I’m sure that’s where we’ll find Addie and Ted.”

“Odelia asked her uncle, but there hasn’t been a circus in town for months,” said Max. “So she couldn’t possibly have joined them.”

See? Stubborn.“So maybe the circus was in the next town?” he suggested patiently. Sometimes he felt as if he had to do all the thinking for Max, and now was one of those times. “Or maybe two towns over? It could even be three.”

“We’ll look into it, Dooley,” said Max, but he said it in a patronizing sort of way, Dooley felt. As if he didn’t really think the idea had merit.

“Or maybe they joined a group of traveling musicians,” he now suggested, just to keep the ball rolling. “You know, like a band or something. They could have joined the Traveling Wilburys.”

“I think you’ll find that the Traveling Wilburys are on hiatus,” said Max. “On account of the fact that most of them are dead. And anyway, they never did a lot of traveling, even when they were still a full set.”

“I’m just spitballing here,” he said, and was starting to feel that all of his best ideas were simply going to waste.

“We’ll look into everything you’ve suggested,” said Max. “But first we need to talk to Chase, and see what he comes up with. We’ll organize a meeting tonight, put all of our ideas on the table, and take it from there. How does that sound?”

Dooley smiled. Max really was the greatest.“That sounds like a plan,” he said, well pleased. Max had listened to him after all, just like he knew he would.

He sighed happily. Quite frankly there wasn’t a better friend in all the world than Max.

[Êàðòèíêà: img_4]

“We have to do something. For the sake of my great-granddaughter,” said Vesta. She’d hurried home and was now conferring with her daughter and son-in-law in the kitchen. “You did see the pictures and the video I sent you, didn’t you?”

“I did,” said Marge, looking and sounding depressed. “You saw this with your own eyes?”

“And so did Scarlett,” said Vesta.

Scarlett, who was seated at the kitchen table next to her, nodded solemnly.“They looked very cozy together,” she said. “And when the tryst was over they disappeared into the lobby, and according to the receptionist they walked into the elevator together, probably to continue their lovers’ meeting upstairs, in the guy’s room.”

“My God,” said Marge, placing a palm to her temple to soothe the throbbing vein there.

“I find this very hard to believe,” said Tex. “I mean, this is Odelia we’re talking about. She’s always been the most sensible one of us all. And the sanest one.” He directed a meaningful look at Vesta, which the latter decided to ignore.

“It’s a coup de foudre,” she said. “Scarlet called it, didn’t you, hun?”

“It can happen to the best of us,” said Scarlett. “It happened to me many, many times. Like when I met your husband, Vesta.”

“Fine, all right,” Vesta was quick to say. “Let’s not go there.”

“No, I guess we better don’t,” Scarlett murmured as she hastily cast down her eyes.

“We have to talk to her,” said Marge. “And I think it’s best if I do it, as her mother.”

“Or we could organize an intervention,” Tex suggested. “Sit her down and point out her responsibilities as a mother and a wife.”

Grace, who must have sensed that all eyes had turned to her, now gurgled a happy refrain.“Gloo gloo!” she yammered, pumping the air with a pudgy fist.

“Poor kid,” said Scarlett. “Good thing she’s too young to realize what’s going on.”

Vesta’s son Alec entered the kitchen, looking slightly harried, the few remaining strands of hair on his head in disarray. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, panting a little as he pulled up a chair. “Charlene had us visiting a travel agent.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re going vacationing together,” said Scarlett. “Have you picked a destination yet?”

“No, we have not,” said Alec emphatically. “And I’m not sure we ever will.”

“Oh, but why? Going on holiday as a couple is one of the best things about being married.”

“We are NOT married,” said Alec, from between gritted teeth.

Obviously Scarlett had hit a nerve, and wisely chose to back off.

“We’re thinking about staging an intervention,” Marge said, filling the newcomer in on the plans. “Sit her down and try and talk some sense into her.”

“How sure are we that Odelia and this Dexter fella are an item?” asked Alec.

“Always the cop,” said Vesta, throwing up her hands. “Always looking for evidence.” She tapped her phone, which she’d placed on the table. “Aren’t the pictures I sent you evidence enough? Or the video?”

“All I see is Odelia hugging some dude,” said Alec. “Doesn’t mean they’re having an affair. Heck, if I had an affair with every woman I hug, I’d be exhausted.”

He looked exhausted, Vesta thought. His cheeks, otherwise so plump and rosy, were pale, his skin wrinkly and saggy.

“Are you coming down with something?” she asked, placing a hand on her son’s forehead. But of course he slapped her hand away.

“I’m fine,” he grunted irritably. “Have you sent these pictures to Chase already?”

“Of course not.”

“And why not, if I may ask? He has a right to know that his wife is cheating on him.”

“We don’t want to cause any trouble,” said Marge, “before we have a chance to confront Odelia. There may be an innocent explanation.”

“Innocent explanation, my ass,” said Vesta. “You should have seen them. As lovey-dovey a couple as I’ve ever witnessed. No, those two are in love. And I should know. I’m an expert at this stuff.”

Ever since her own husband had cheated on her with Scarlett, she’d had a firm distaste for cheaters. Even when those cheaters were her beloved granddaughter. Still, Marge was right. They had to give Odelia a chance to explain. And to change her evil ways.

“I say we confront her, and tell her to dump this billionaire,” she suggested.

“She’ll come to her senses, I’m sure,” said Marge, always the optimist. “And Chase never needs to know.” She looked around the table searchingly. “Are we all in agreement? If Odelia agrees to stop seeing her billionaire, we don’t tell Chase?”

“All those in favor, raise your hand,” said Vesta. Much to her satisfaction, she saw they had a full quorum.

“Let’s save a marriage, people,” she concluded. “And save a little girl’s future.”

“Broom broom!” Grace bellowed, always wanting to have the last word.

CHAPTER 16

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

Dooley was looking at me intently, and so I said,“We still haven’t considered Dooley’s idea about the circus.”

Odelia and Chase were seated in their salon, with Dooley and myself also present. Maps had been researched, and possibilities for a search examined and quickly discarded, since Addie’s dad didn’t want his daughter’s disappearance to become widely known just yet.

Odelia frowned.“The circus? What are you talking about, Max?”

“I think she might have joined a traveling circus,” Dooley piped up. “To escape her dad, who may not be as kind and sweet as we think.”

Odelia thought about this for a moment, then nodded.

“What are they saying?” asked Chase.

“That Addie might not have been kidnapped but might have joined a traveling circus instead, to get away from her dad.”

Chase gave me an appreciative look.“Excellent thinking,” he said.

“It wasn’t my idea,” I hastened to say. But of course he didn’t understand me.

“It’s entirely possible that Addie and her dad didn’t get on as well as he says they did,” said the cop as he frowned at a map of Hampton Cove which lay spread out on the coffee table. “So where did Dexter say she was last seen?”

“Right here,” said Odelia, pointing to a spot on the map.

“And she told someone they were headed in this direction?”

“Yes, the owner of the gas station where they filled up the RV. They said they’d traveled all across the States, and were going to keep traveling east until they reached Montauk, and then go south, all the way to Florida, where they would take a well-deserved break before returning home.”

“Okay, so to reach Montauk they had to pass through Hampton Cove,” Chase mused as he traced the possible route the couple had taken with his finger. “And that was also the last time their cell phone signal was picked up?”

“Yes, Addie’s phone had a tracker app, so her dad could always see where she was. And the last time her phone transmitted a signal was just before they entered town. So her phone must have been switched off… or destroyed.”

“Now why would she do a thing like that?” asked Chase, more to himself than to the rest of us. “Unless they ran into some unsavory types who destroyed her cell phone and took the RV off the road.”

“Let’s go out there tomorrow and see what we can find,” Odelia suggested.

Chase nodded.“I’ve got the rest of the week off, so let’s make good use of the time we have, and get to the bottom of this mystery.”

She gave him a smile and placed a tender hand on his arm.“I’m so glad we’re doing this together, babe.”

“Me too,” said Chase, returning her smile and placing his own hand on top of his wife’s. They shared a loving kiss, as witnessed by Brutus and Harriet, who chose that exact moment to enter the house through the pet flap.

Brutus stared at the couple, looking distinctly perturbed, and Harriet even gasped in shock. I guess they’d never seen a loving couple before.

“Odelia, what are you doing!” Harriet cried, aghast.

“Kissing my husband,” said Odelia with a smile. “Why?”

“But…” She gulped, as she directed a quick glance at Brutus, then shook her head. “No, no. It’s totally fine. Just… surprising, I guess. Under the circumstances.”

“A girl is missing, Harriet,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean life can’t go on for the rest of us.” It’s a hard fact of life, of course, but there you have it. Even though bad things happen to people, the world keeps on turning.

“Yes,” said Harriet hesitantly. “Yes, of course.”

“Max, I have a message for you from Rupert,” said Brutus.

I thought he was acting just as weird as Harriet was, but figured their dog training wasn’t going according to schedule.

“Rupert?” I asked, getting up from my perch on the couch and sliding down to the floor. I stretched and yawned. “Who’s Rupert?”

“A snail. He says you saved his life this morning.”

“Oh, that’s right,” I said. “So what’s the message?”

But Brutus was gawping at Odelia and Chase for some reason.

“Brutus? You said you had a message for me from Rupert?”

“Oh, um… Yeah, that’s right. The blue moon thing is happening tonight.”

I stared at my friend.“So?”

“That’s the message.”

“There’s a blue moon out tonight?”

“Yep. He said he could smell it.”

“Okay. Good to know, I guess.”

“Hey, don’t look at me. I’m just the messenger.”

“So how is the dog training going?” I asked.

Harriet, at whom I’d directed this question, was staring at Odelia, open-mouthed, so I had to repeat my question to draw her attention.

“Oh, that’s off,” she said finally.

“Off? What do you mean, off?”

“Rufus proved to be a non-starter, and Fifi wants to go it alone, so the training is off.”

“But…”

“Look, don’t you think we have bigger fish to fry right now, Max!” she suddenly shouted, giving me a vehement look.

“Yes,” I said quickly, taken aback by such vehemence. “Yes, of course.”

“Well, then,” she snapped, and turned on her heel. Before she exited through the pet flap, she turned back one last time. “I blame you, you know. If you hadn’t taken your eye off the ball, this would never have happened!” Then she was gone.

I turned to Brutus for an explanation for this outburst, but he merely smiled weakly.“I don’t blame you, Max,” he said. “I mean, we all know what humans are like, don’t we? Fickle. Hard to know what they’ll do next.” Then he was off, too.

“Fickle,” I murmured. Well, that was certainly true. And the same thing could be said about certain cats.

But since the meeting was still in full swing, I decided not to pursue the matter any further, and join the conversation once more.

CHAPTER 17

[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]

“We have to do something, Brutus,” said Harriet. “We have to make Odelia end this affair with her billionaire.”

“But why? I thought you said you wanted to go and live with this billionaire in his castle?”

“I know what I said,” she snapped. “But I gave the matter some more thought, and it stands to reason that Edward Dexter will want his new bride to live with him in San Francisco. Which means leaving Hampton Cove and all of our friends behind. And being rich and living in a castle is one thing, but I’ll miss our dear friends.” And of course her budding career as cat choir’s number one soprano.

“But what can we do?” asked Harriet’s mate. “You know she won’t listen to us.”

“I know,” said Harriet. “But she does listen to Max. So if we can convince him to use his influence, we might still be able to turn this whole thing around.”