Purrfect Revenge

Chapter 7

While Odelia and Chase tried to take control of the crime scene, Dooley, Harriet, Brutus and I were busy trying to figure out what else we could do to solve this murder case. Clarice had pulled one of her disappearing acts again and had vanished like a puff of smoke. Typical. One minute she was there, the next she was gone. And without even bothering to say goodbye.

“Are you really going to share your meat with her?” Harriet asked.

“Sure,” said Brutus. “At least until I solve this murder. The moment I catch the killer she can kiss her meat goodbye.” I noticed the big bully sounded a lot more macho now that Clarice wasn’t there to keep him in line.

“Why would Clarice kiss her meat goodbye?” asked Dooley. “Wouldn’t she just eat it?”

“It’s an expression,” I told him.

“It doesn’t make any sense. Why kiss your meat goodbye?”

“Oh, Dooley,” said Harriet with a sigh.

“Yes?” he asked, looking up.

“Just go away.”

“Go away? Go where?”

“Anywhere. Just stop asking stupid questions.”

I patted my friend on the back. “It’s all right, Dooley. You know what they say. There are no stupid questions. Only stupid answers.”

“I didn’t know they said that.”

“Well, now you do.”

“We should split up,” Brutus said. “You and Dooley go this way. Harriet and I will go that way.” He was vaguely gesturing toward the house.

“Why?” asked Dooley, remembering there are no stupid questions.

“I’ve got a better chance cracking this case than you two losers. Isn’t that right, sugar pie?”

The sugar pie bit wasn’t directed at either me or Dooley. It was meant for Harriet, who fluttered her eyelashes. “Of course I agree, honey bunch. With your intellect and my charm I’m sure we’ll crack this case right open.”

I eyed Brutus suspiciously. “You’ve got a theory, haven’t you?”

“You bet your whiskers I do. I’m surprised you don’t. It’s staring you right in the face.”

Dooley looked around. “What’s staring us in the face?”

“Oh, Dooley,” said Harriet, rolling her eyes.

“Look, whatever you think you know, I’m Odelia’s cat, so I’m the one who helps her solve the murder. So you better tell me what you know.”

Brutus grinned. “Not this time, Maxie baby. This time we’re doing things different.” He tapped his chest, like a miniature King Kong. “I’m going to solve this case. And I’m going to make sure Odelia knows it.”

I shook my head. “You can’t do that. That’s not fair.”

Harriet shrugged. “I think it’s time you learned to share, Max. You’ve had Odelia all to yourself for far too long. It’s time to share her with Brutus.”

“But-but-but,” I sputtered. I caught Brutus’s eye and I could tell he was enjoying himself. For the first time since he arrived in town he had me licked.

“That’s not very nice of you,” said Dooley. “Odelia is Max’s human.”

Harriet walked up to him. “Odelia is our human, Dooley. She cares about all of us. You. Me. Max. And now Brutus. We’re one big happy family.”

She sold it so well I almost bought it. But Odelia knew all about Brutus’s habit of bossing us around. She’d never accept him into our home if I didn’t want to. So maybe I didn’t have to worry. Even if he solved the murder first, Odelia would still love me the most. Right?

I watched Brutus and Harriet stalk off. “You’re right, Dooley,” I said.

“I am?” he asked, surprised.

“It’s not very nice of Harriet to take Brutus’s side like that.”

“So she’s not our friend anymore?”

“She is, but she’s strayed from the path of true friendship.” I shook my head. “Somehow we’re going to have to show her the error of her ways.”

“I have no idea what you just said, but I think you’re probably right.”

“Let’s just do what we do best and find ourselves a killer.”

“All right,” he said with a yawn. “But maybe we’ll take a nap first?”

“No napping,” I said decidedly. “First we catch the killer, then we nap.”

Dooley sighed. “Oh, all right. So where do we start?”

“We’ll just snoop around. Be the perfect spies.”

“Pity the Kenspeckles don’t have cats. Otherwise this would be a snap.”

We both stared at Kane, who was staring back at us from a safe distance. He’d lost his fighting spirit after his scrap with Clarice. Or maybe he was trying to come up with a new strategy to take us down.

We walked to the house, and the French Bulldog disappeared from sight. Whatever his strategy was, he wasn’t taking any chances. I saw that the director of the Kenspeckle show was instructing his cameraman about what to shoot next. The two sisters, Shayonne and Shalonda, having shot their scenes, were being fussed over by a makeup person. A stylist pecked at the hem of Shalonda’s skirt, which had silver sequins snaking down the sides.

“Must be nice to have someone fussing over you like that,” said Dooley.

“I doubt it. I for one wouldn’t want anyone telling me what to wear.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re a cat. You don’t wear anything.”

“You’re a cat too,” I reminded him. “You don’t wear anything either.”

“Oh. Right.” He looked surprised. “Pity.”

“Pity you don’t get to wear clothes? Why? I’ll bet it’s a big fuss.”

“Not if you’re a Kenspeckle. They have people fussing over the fuss.”

And we were right back where we started. “Why would you even want to wear clothes? Or have someone fussing over you?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Just imagine having your own personal groomer. Someone to take care of your fur twenty-four seven. Or a personal dietician.”

He had a point. It sure would be nice to be pampered and spoiled and treated like a Kenspeckle. Not that Odelia doesn’t take good care of me, but she’s pretty pressed for time most of the time, with that job of hers and all.

Dooley sighed wistfully. “Wouldn’t it be nice to be human for a change?”

That was taking it too far. “No way! I would never want to be human.”

“Why not?”

“Uh-uh. Too much stress. Imagine having to work for a living, so you can pay for a roof over your head and food on your table. What a nightmare. And then there’s the IRS to deal with and the electric company and the insurance people. I think us cats have the best deal. All we do is sleep a lot, rub our human’s legs from time to time, look cute doing it and they pay the rent, the electric bill, the medical bill… All so we can focus on the important stuff.”

“Like sleeping and eating.”

“No. All of that frees up time to think.”

He stared at me. “Think? Think about what?”

“Well, this case for instance. Who killed Shana Kenspeckle.”

“Riiight.” It was obvious I lost him. Dooley is not exactly a big thinker. In fact, apart from eating and sleeping, I don’t think he’s got a lot on his mind. Except Harriet, of course. The cat’s obsessed with Harriet for some reason. No idea why. I would never get that obsessed over a female. It’s degrading.

We watched as the body of Shana was carted off on a stretcher. The coroner had done his bit and stood conferring with Chase. Odelia was keeping an eye on Shayonne and Shalonda who were still being prepped.

“They don’t show a lot of emotion between takes,” Dooley said.

“They probably reserve all of it for when the cameras are rolling.”

“Weird.”

“Totally.”

I caught a glimpse of Brutus and Harriet, sneaking into the house, and I nudged Dooley. “We better get a move on. Or else Brutus will beat us to it.”

He started. “Brutus is going to beat us?”

“Oh, Dooley.”