Purrfect Santa

Excerpt from Purrfect Crime (The Mysteries of Max 5)

Prologue

Donna Bruce was a woman profoundly in love with herself. From personal experience she knew there was no other person as amazing as she was. She was smart, successful, beautiful, and, above all, she was kind to humans, children and dogs, which cannot be said about everyone. She was a giver, not a taker. In fact she gave so much she often wondered if people appreciated her enough.

Her kids, for instance, could probably love her more for all the sacrifices she had made. For one thing, they’d pretty much ruined her figure. After the twins were born, something strange but not very wonderful had happened to her hips. They’d never looked the same again. And when she saw what breastfeeding did to her boobs, she’d vowed never to fall into that horrible trap again.

She now carefully tucked her golden tresses beneath the pink shower cap, wrapped the white towel embroidered with her company’s crest—a nicely rendered tiara—around her perfectly toned and tanned body, and stepped into the sauna cabin. She had the cabin installed only six months ago as a special treat to herself when donna.vip, the lifestyle website she’d launched a decade ago, had topped 200 million in revenue.

She languidly stretched out on the authentic Finnish wood bench, took a sip from her flute of Moët & Chandon Dom Perignon, and closed her eyes. She’d just done a conference call with her CEO and now it was time to relax. Later today she had a session with her private fitness coach scheduled, and to top it all off she was going to treat herself to a healing massage as well. Time to get pampered!

And she’d just reached that slightly drowsy state she enjoyed so much when a soft clanking sound attracted her attention. She opened her eyes and saw through the slight haze that filled the cabin that there was someone moving about outside.

She frowned, wondering who it could be. Her housekeeper Jackie wasn’t coming in until ten, and the rest of the staff knew better than to intrude on her alone time. It was hard to make out the person’s face, as the one small window was all steamed up. With a grunt of annoyance she got up and wiped her hand across the glass to look out. And that’s when she noticed something very disturbing: the person was wearing a mask of some kind. One of those silly Halloween masks.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she called out.

But the intruder just stood there, unmoving, staring at her through the black mask that covered his or her entire face.

“Who are you?” she asked. “Answer me at once!”

When the person didn’t respond, she shook her head and took a firm grip on the wood door handle, giving it a good yank. The door didn’t budge. She tried again, knowing that these sauna doors could be sticky, but to no avail. And that’s when she saw that someone—presumably the masked person outside—had stuck a long object through the door’s handle, blocking it. It was her long handle loofah, the one she’d intended to take into the sauna with her.

“Hey! This isn’t funny!” she cried, tapping the pane furiously. “Open this door right now!”

And that’s when the masked figure reacted for the first time by raising a hand and pointing a finger at her, cocking their thumb and making a shooting gesture. And in that exact moment, she became aware of an odd sound that seemed to come from somewhere above her head. A buzzing sound. She looked up in alarm, and when she saw the first dozen bees streaming into the sauna cabin, she uttered a cry of shock and fear.

She rapped the window again, more frantic this time. “Let me out! Why are you doing this to me?! Just let me out of here!”

More bees fluttered into the cramped space and soon started filling it. There must have been hundreds, or maybe even thousands! And as they descended upon her, she felt the first stings. She started swatting them away with her towel, but there were too many of them, and for some reason they seemed drawn to her, whipped into a frenzy by some unknown cause. And as she stumbled and fell, desperately flapping her hands in a bid to get rid of the pesky insects, she soon succumbed. Her final thought, before she lost consciousness was, “Why me?!”

Chapter One

Having spent most of the night outside, looking up at the stars and commenting to Dooley on their curious shape, attending a meeting of cat choir in the nearby Hampton Cove Park, and generally contemplating the state of the world and my place in it, I was ready to perform my daily duty and make sure my human Odelia Poole got a bright and early start on her day. I do this by jumping up onto her bed, plodding across Odelia’s sleeping form, and finally kneading her arm until she wakes up and gives me a cuddle. This has been our morning ritual since just about forever.

When I finally reached the top of the stairs, slightly winded, a pleasant sound emanating from the bedroom filled me with a warm and fuzzy feeling of benevolence: Odelia was softly snoring, indicating she was in urgent need of a wake-up catcall. So I padded over, and jumped up onto the foot of the bed. At least, that was my intention, only for some reason I must have misjudged the distance, for instead of landing on all fours on the bed, I landed on my butt on the bedside rug.

I shook my head, happy that no one saw me in this awkward position. With a slight shrug of the shoulders, I decided to try again. This time the result was even worse. I never even cleared the bed frame, let alone the mattress or the comforter. Like an Olympic pole vaulter who discovers he’s lost the ability, I suddenly found myself facing a new and horrifying reality: I couldn’t jump anymore!

“Hey, Max,” a familiar voice sounded behind me. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, Dooley?” I grumbled. “I’m trying to jump into bed!”

He paused, then asked, “So why are you still on the floor?”

“Because…” I stared up at the bed, which all of a sudden had turned into an insurmountable obstacle for some reason. “Actually I don’t know what’s going on. The bed just seems higher now.”

“A sudden weakness,” Dooley decided knowingly. “It happens to me all the time.”

“Well, it doesn’t happen to me,” I said, scratching my head. Yes, cats scratch their heads. We just make sure we retract our claws, otherwise it would be a fine mess.

“You probably need food. Did you have breakfast? When I don’t have my breakfast I feel weak. Do you feel weak?”

I gave him my best scowl. “I feel fine. And for your information, yes, I did have my breakfast. The best kibble money can buy and a nice chunk of chicken and liver paté.”

“Wow, what happened?”

“What do you mean, what happened?”

“I thought Odelia only got you the cheap stuff? Why did she go out and splurge all of a sudden?”

“I guess she felt I deserved it. I have been helping her solve murder case after murder case lately.”

“Me too, but I didn’t get any special treats.”

“You have to file your complaint with Gran, Dooley. She is your human, after all.”

Dooley’s Ragamuffin face sagged. “Gran has been too busy to notice me lately.”

“Too busy? Why, what’s she been up to?”

“Beats me. She’s been receiving packages in the mail. A lot of them. In fact Marge and Tex are pretty much fed up with her. Seems like they’re the ones who have to pay for all those packages.”

Perhaps now would be a good time to make some introductions, especially for the people who haven’t been following my adventures closely. My name is Max, as you have probably deduced, and I’m something of a private cat sleuth. Since Odelia is a reporter and always in need of fresh and juicy stories, I’m only too happy to supply them. My frequent collaborator on these outings is Dooley, my best friend and neighbor. Dooley’s human is Vesta Muffin, Odelia’s grandmother who lives next door. Dooley is my wingcat. My partner in crime. Between you and me, Dooley is not exactly the brightest bulb in the bulb shop, so it’s a good thing he’s got me. I’m smart enough for the both of us.

“Why don’t I give you a paw up?” Dooley asked now.

“I don’t know…” I muttered. I glanced behind Dooley, making sure he was alone. If we were going to do this, I didn’t want there to be any witnesses.

Dooley followed my gaze. “What are you looking at?” Then he got it. “Oh, if you’re looking for Harriet, she was fast asleep in Brutus’s paws. Those two must have had a rough night.”

My face clouded. Being reminded of Brutus usually has a souring effect on my mood. You see, Brutus is what us cats call an intruder. He came waltzing into our lives a couple of weeks ago and has refused to leave ever since. He belongs to Chase Kingsley, a cop Odelia has taken a liking to, but seems to spend an awful lot of time next door, cozying up to Harriet, Odelia’s mom’s white Persian.

I made up my mind. “Let’s do this,” I grunted. If we didn’t, Odelia might wake up of her own accord, and I’d miss my window of opportunity to put in some much-needed snuggle time.

Dooley padded up to me and plunked down on his haunches. “How do you want to do this?”

“Simple. I jump and you give me a boost.”

“You mean, like, on the count of three or something?”

“Or something.” I got ready, poised at the foot of the bed and said, “One—two—”

“Wait,” Dooley said. “Are we doing this on three or after three?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do I boost you on three, or right after?”

“Why would you boost me right after? The count of three usually means the count of three, Dooley.”

“So, one, two, three and boost? Or one, two, three, pause, and then boost?”

“One, two, three, boost,” I said, starting to lose my patience. “Now, are we doing this or not?”

He thought about this for a moment, a puzzled look on his face. “Do you want to do this?”

“Of course I want to do this! Preferably before we die of old age.”

Dooley’s eyes went wide. “Die of old age? Do you think we’re dying, Max?!”

“No, we’re not dying! I just want to put in some snuggle time, is that so hard to understand?”

“Oh, right,” he said, understanding dawning. “I thought you said we were dying.”

For some reason Dooley has been obsessing about dying lately. Usually I can talk him out of it, but then he sees something on TV and the whole thing starts all over again.

“Are you ready?”

Dooley nodded. “I’m ready, Max.”

“One—two—”

“Wait!”

I groaned. “What is it now?”

“Where do I boost you?”

“Up the bed! Where else?”

“No, I mean, do I boost your butt or your hind paws or what? I’m new to this boosting business,” he explained apologetically.

“It’s not exactly an Olympic discipline, Dooley. There are no rules. You can boost me wherever you want.” On second thought… “Though stay away from my butt.”

“Right. Stay away from your butt. So where…”

“Anywhere but my butt! Now one—two—”

“Max!”

“What?!”

“What if I boost you too hard and you end up flying across the bed and down the other side?”

I fixed him with a hard look. “Trust me, Dooley, the chances of that happening are slim to none. I mean, look at us. I’m like the Dwayne Johnson of cats and you’re more like Andrew Garfield in Hacksaw Ridge, all scrawny and mangy. You’ll be lucky if you can boost me a couple inches, which is all I need,” I hastened to add.

“Do you think I’m too mangy?” asked Dooley with a frown.

“Not too mangy. You’re just thin is all. A very healthy thin.”

“Not a sickly thin? Like an I’m-about-to-die thin?”

Oh, God. I did not need this aggravation. “Absolutely not. More like a my-name-is-Gwyneth-Paltrow-and-I’m-willowy-and-gorgeous kind of thin.”

“I thought you said I looked like Andrew Garfield?”

“In a very Gwyneth Paltrow-y way.”

This seemed to please him, as he gave me a grateful smile. “Why, thanks, Max. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Great. Now about that boost?”

“Oh! Right! I forgot all about that.”

“Focus, Dooley. Now, are you ready?”

“Ready,” he said, his face a study in concentration.

“One—two—three—”

“Boost!” he cried and placed both paws on my butt, giving me a mighty shove.

And… we had liftoff! Only it didn’t last very long, nor did it carry me where I was aiming to go. Instead, I plunked right back down again, landing on top of Dooley, who ended up squeezed beneath my sizable buns.

There was a momentary pause, while we both figured out what went wrong, then Dooley croaked, “Can you please lift your butt, Max? You’re choking me!”

Applause broke out behind us, and a loud cackling sound, and when I looked up, I saw we’d been joined by Harriet and Brutus. The latter was applauding, a Draco Malfoy-type sneer on his mug, and Harriet was doing the cackling, apparently finding the whole scene hilarious.

“What’s so funny?” I asked with an angry look at the newly arrived.

“You!” Brutus cried. “You’re so fat you can’t even jump on the bed!”

“I’m not fat! I’m just… experiencing some issues with my takeoff.”

“Issues with your takeoff! You’re not an airplane, Max. You’re a cat. A cat too fat to fly!” Harriet dissolved into giggles while Brutus was laughing so hard his belly shook.

“Max!” Dooley breathed. “You’re… choking… me…”

I released Dooley by lifting my butt, then resumed my scowling. “I’m not fat—I’m big-boned. There’s a difference. And Odelia probably bought a new bed, that’s all. I never had any trouble jumping into the old bed, which was still here yesterday morning. Isn’t that right Dooley?”

But Dooley was still catching his breath, taking big gulps of it.

“That’s the exact same bed as always,” said Brutus. He narrowed his eyes at me. “Girlfriend stealer.”

I rolled my eyes. “Here we go again.”

Brutus had walked up to me and poked my chest with his paw. “You kissed my girlfriend, Max. I saw you so don’t try to deny it.”

“I didn’t kiss anyone! She kissed me!”

“That’s what you say.”

“Because that’s what happened!”

He leaned in and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I thought we had an understanding, Max. I thought you and I were friends. And then you went and did a thing like that.” He pursed his lips. “You’re despicable. There’s no other word for it.”

“I didn’t kiss her,” I hissed. “She kissed me. I’m not even interested in Harriet!”

“What are you two whispering about?” Harriet asked with a laugh.

“Nothing, honey bunch,” said Brutus in his sweetest voice. “Just clearing up some stuff.”

“Max is right, Brutus,” Dooley loud-whispered. “Harriet kissed him, not the other way around. And he didn’t even like it, did you, Max?” These last words were spoken with a look of reproach in my direction. Dooley has always fancied Harriet, and he cannot grasp being kissed by that divine feline and not enjoying the experience.

“I heard you,” said Harriet, tripping up deftly. “And for your information, I didn’t kiss Max.”

“See?!” Brutus exclaimed triumphantly.

“My Inner Goddess did.”

“What?!”

Harriet raised her chin defiantly. “I can’t be held responsible for every little thing my Inner Goddess does, Brutus. Sometimes she wears a blindfold. I thought I was kissing you, actually. I only realized my mistake when I reached out and the only thing my paw met was a yielding fluffiness where rock-hard muscles should have been.”

Brutus stared at her. “Go on.”

She placed a paw on his chest and closed her eyes. “See, now that I’m feeling your steely pecs I know it’s you. That was my mistake. I kissed first and touched later.”

I groaned loudly. “Yielding fluffiness?!”

“Shut up, Max,” said Brutus. “Watch and learn.”

And then the two of them locked lips. Instinctively I held up a paw to cover Dooley’s eyes. He did not have to see this. He seemed to appreciate the gesture, for he didn’t slap my paw away. He only asked, when the smooching sounds finally abated, “Is it over yet?”

“Yes, it is,” I said, lowering my paw. Harriet had kissed me, no doubt about it, but if it made her feel better to lie to both herself and to Brutus, it was fine by me. I didn’t need Brutus going back to his old bullying ways. This détente we had going for us suited me fine, so I was happy when finally the kissing stopped and Brutus slapped me on the back.

“And that’s how you do it, buddy!”

“Great,” I muttered. “Now, can you give me a boost? I need to wake up Odelia.”

“Sure thing,” said Brutus, suddenly in an expansive mood. And as I got ready to take the leap again, he got into position directly behind me, not unlike a running back. And before I could initiate the launch sequence, Brutus was shouting, “Hut one—hut two—hut three—go!”

I made the mighty jump and… “Owowowow!” Brutus, instead of giving me a regular boost, had dug his nails into my behind! The result was that I flew up onto the bed and landed right on top of Odelia’s sleeping form, and it wasn’t a soft landing either.

“Ooph!” Odelia grunted, when a flying blorange obstacle landed squarely on her stomach. She stared down at me. “Max! Where’s the fire?!”

I gave her a sheepish look. “Wakey-wakey.”

I directed a scathing look at Brutus, who gave me a grin. “See, Max? I knew you could do it!”

Chapter Two

“So then Brutus gave me a boost and that’s how I ended up on your stomach,” I finished my account of the recent events.

Odelia, who’s blond and petite with the most strikingly green eyes, tied the sash of her bathrobe and gave me a worried look. “I better make that appointment with Vena. I knew I should never have put it off.”

My eyes widened to the size of saucers, which for us cats is considerable, since our eyes are a lot smaller than a human’s eyes to begin with. “Not Vena!”

“Yes, Vena. With everything that’s been going on I totally forgot to make a new appointment but it’s obvious now that she was right all along.” She placed a comforting hand on my head. “You’re overweight, Max. Totally overweight, and I’ve got no one else to blame but myself.”

“I’m not overweight. I’m just… big-boned. It runs in the family.”

“It’s for your own good,” she said. “If you don’t start dieting again, you’ll just get in trouble.”

“I won’t get in trouble, I promise!” I cried. Anything not to have to go to Vena, who is just about the vet from hell. For some reason she loves sticking me with needles and suggesting to Odelia that she feed me kibble that tastes like cardboard. The woman is my own personal tormentor.

“It’s not your fault,” Odelia said as she started down the stairs. “I indulge you. I keep buying those snacks that you like so much and I probably overfeed you, too.”

“No, you don’t,” I said, desperate now. I trotted after her, my paws sounding heavy on the stairs. “I only eat the bare minimum as it is. In fact I’m always hungry.”

She paused and listened to the pounding my paws made on the stairs. “You hear that? That’s not normal, Max. You’re not supposed to walk like that.”

“Like what?” I asked, pausing mid-step.

“Like an elephant trampling in the brush.”

“I don’t sound like an elephant trampling in the brush,” I said indignantly, but made an effort to tread a little lighter. Only problem was, it’s hard to tread lightly when you’re going downhill. Gravity, you know.

“And Vena said that when you get too big it’s bad for your heart. Fat tissue builds up around the organ and that’s not a good thing.”

“My heart is just fine,” I promised, tapping my chest. “Healthy as an ox!”

“And you look like one, too,” said Brutus. The black cat was right behind me, and obviously enjoying the conversation tremendously.

“I’ve booked you an appointment, too, by the way, Brutus,” said Odelia now.

We’d reached the bottom of the stairs and she walked into the kitchen to start up the coffeemaker. How people can drink that black sludge is beyond me, but then a lot of stuff humans do makes no sense at all. Like putting a perfectly healthy cat on a diet!

“Me!” cried Brutus. “Why me?!”

“Because Chase told me he doesn’t remember the last time you went. So it might as well have been never.” She frowned. “Though you are neutered, so you must have gone at least once.”

A deep blush crept up Brutus’s features. At least I think it did. It was hard to be sure with all that dark hair covering his visage. He cut a quick look at Harriet, who pretended she hadn’t heard. “I, um—I’m sure that’s not possible,” he said now.

“That you’re neutered or that you didn’t go to the vet in years?” Odelia asked deftly, taking a cup and saucer from the cupboard over the sink.

Brutus appeared to be shrinking before my very eyes, a sight I enjoyed a lot, I have to say. “Both,” he said curtly, now actively avoiding Harriet’s cool gaze.

“Don’t worry, Brutus,” said Dooley. “We’re all neutered. Max is neutered. I am neutered. Even Harriet is neutered. Isn’t that right, Harriet?”

“None of your beeswax,” Harriet snapped.

“Beeswaxed?” asked Dooley. “I’m pretty sure the right word is neutered.”

“Dooley!” Harriet said with a warning glare.

“What? What did I say?”

“Oh, come off it, you guys,” said Odelia, crouching down. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about. If you weren’t neutered I’m sure we’d have a fresh litter every couple of months, and we can’t have that now, can we?”

“I don’t see why not,” Harriet muttered. It was obviously still a sore point.

“Because I can’t take care of so many cats,” Odelia said softly. “You see that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, just do the math,” said Dooley. “Three litters a year times eight kittens a litter that’s…” He frowned, looking goofy for a moment, then said, “… a heck of a lot of cats!”

“It is,” said Odelia. “And I’d just end up having to bring them to the shelter. And I don’t need to tell you what happens to cats that end up at the animal shelter, do I?”

“They are adopted by loving humans?” Dooley ventured.

“They die, Dooley,” Brutus growled. “They all die.”

Dooley uttered a cry of horror and staggered back a few paces. “No, they don’t!”

“Oh, yes, they do. And then they’re turned into sausages and people eat them!”

“Brutus!” Odelia said. “Don’t scare Dooley.” She gave Dooley a comforting pat on the back. “They’re not turned into sausages. But they’re not adopted, either, I’m afraid. At least not all of them. Though I’m sure a lot of them find warm and loving families.”

“See!” Dooley cried triumphantly. “They’re all placed with their very own Odelias!”

“Thanks,” said Odelia, rising to her feet. “Now about Vena…”

Lucky for us the bell rang at that exact moment, and Gran came rushing in through the glass sliding door, looking like she was about to lay an egg.

“Is he here?!” Gran croaked anxiously. “Is he here?!”

“Is who here?” asked Odelia, moving to the front door.

“The UPS guy, of course!”

Gran is a white-haired little old lady, but even though she looks like sweetness incarnate, she’s quite a pistol.

“See?” asked Dooley, turning to me. “This is what I told you.”

“What did you tell me?” I asked. The morning had already been so traumatizing my mind had actively started to repress the memories.

“About Gran ordering a bunch of stuff online and Marge and Tex having to pay for it.”

Odelia had opened the door and Dooley was right: a pimply teenager in a brown uniform with ‘UPS’ on his chest stood before her, a big, bulky package in his hands. “Vesta Muffin?” he asked.

“That’s me!” Gran squealed and darted forward, grabbed the package from the teenager’s hands and ran to the living room with it.

Odelia signed for the package and sent the kid on his way. “What’s going on, Gran?” she asked.

“Oh, nothing,” said Gran, eagerly tearing open the package.

We all gathered around, and since it’s hard to see anything from the floor, we all hopped up onto the chairs to have a good look at this mysterious package.

Gran, licking her lips, finally succeeded in ripping away the packaging, and before us lay three shiny green eggs. Huh.

“Gran,” said Odelia in her warning voice. It’s the voice she likes to use when me or Dooley have been up to no good, which, obviously, practically never happens.

“What?” asked Gran innocently. “I need them. I’m dating again.”

What a bunch of green eggs had to do with dating was beyond me, but, like I said, humans are weird. And in my personal experience no human is weirder than Gran.

“You’re dating again?” asked Odelia. “I thought that after Leo you were done with all of that.”

Leo was a horny old man that Gran used to run around with. We kept bumping into them in the weirdest places, practicing the weirdest positions. All very disturbing.

“Done with dating?” asked Gran indignantly. “Oh, the horror! How can anyone be done with dating? Didn’t anyone ever tell you that sex only gets better with age?”

“Like a fine wine,” said Dooley, though I doubted he knew what he was talking about.

“The only thing that doesn’t improve is my hoo-hee. Which is why I need these.”

“What is a hoo-hee?” asked Dooley innocently.

Odelia blushed slightly. “Nothing you should concern yourself with, Dooley.”

“You don’t know what a hoo-hee is?” asked Gran, raising an eyebrow. “What about hoo-ha? Lady bits? Fine China? Lady garden? Vajayjay?”

Dooley shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Gran laughed. “You’re funny, Dooley. Doesn’t ring a bell. I’ll bet it doesn’t ring your bell, but it sure as heck rung Leo’s bell, and there’s plenty of Leos out there.”

“I’ll just bet there are,” Odelia muttered, picking up one of the green eggs. “So how do you use these?” Then she noticed four pairs of cat eyes following her every movement and she put the egg down again. “Never mind. I’m sure I don’t want to know.”

“And I’m sure you do,” said Gran. “If you want to entertain your fellow you need to practice the fine art of the jade egg, honey.”

“Something to do with energy and healing, right?” asked Odelia with a frown.

Gran threw her head back and laughed. “Of course not! It’s all about training those pelvic muscles. You want to get a good grip on your fella’s…” She cast a quick look at Dooley. “… fella. Increase the pleasure—his and yours. Trust me,” she said as she placed one of the green eggs in the palm of Odelia’s hand, “you’ll make your man very, very happy.”

“That happy, huh?” asked Odelia as she rolled the smooth green egg in her hand.

“Happier,” said Gran as she let the other two eggs disappear into the pockets of her dress. She gestured at the box. “Can you let this disappear, honey? Your mom and dad don’t need to know.”

“Wait a minute,” said Odelia. “You’re not going to have this… stuff arrive here from now on, are you?”

“Of course I am. I hate to break it to you, Odelia, but your parents are ageists. They think just because I’m old I’m all shriveled up down there.” She patted her granddaughter on the cheek. “Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact I’m pretty sure I get more nookie than those dried-up old prunes.”

“Hey, that’s my parents you’re talking about.”

“I know, which is why I’m so glad you’re nothing like them. You wouldn’t stand in the way of your grandmother enjoying her golden years, would you?”

“No, but…”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” She gave Odelia a fat wink. “Stick around, kid. You may learn a trick or two from this old dame.”

And with these words, she practically galloped through the sliding door and disappeared into the garden, no doubt eager to start practicing those eggs on her hoo-hee, whatever a hoo-hee was.

For a long moment, silence reigned, then Odelia said, “Right. I think I’ll just put that egg away, shall I?”

“So what is it for, exactly?” asked Harriet.

Odelia produced an awkward smile. “Decorative purposes?”

Harriet narrowed her eyes at her. “A decorative egg is going to make Chase very, very happy?”

“Yes, it will,” Odelia trudged on bravely. “Chase likes a nicely decorated… room.”

She was backtracking towards the staircase, and we all watched her go. Then, suddenly, she turned around and popped up the stairs. We heard her rummage around in her bedroom, a drawer opening and closing. Those drawers contained a lot of funny-looking stuff. Amongst other things, they also contained a small battery-powered rocket, though I had no idea why Odelia would need a pocket rocket in her bedroom.

Moments later, she returned, still that sheepish look on her face.

Humans. They’re just too weird.

Just then, the doorbell rang again.

“More eggs?” asked Harriet acerbically.

But when Odelia went to open the door, it was her uncle. Chief of Police Alec Lip. Like me, Chief Alec is big-boned. And, also like me, he’s a great guy. Always ready with a smile or a kind remark, which makes him real popular with the locals. He wasn’t smiling now, though, and when he opened his mouth to speak, it soon became clear why. “There’s been a murder. A really nasty one.”

Chapter Three

Odelia put the four cats in her old Ford pickup and followed Uncle Alec as he set the course in his police cruiser.

“So who died?” asked Max, who’d crawled up on the passenger seat, as was his habit when there was no one else in the car. No other humans, at least.

“A woman named Donna Bruce,” said Odelia, anxiously peering through the windshield. “She’s the one who sold Gran those green eggs.”

“She’s a farmer?” asked Max.

“No, she’s not a farmer. She’s a former actress who now runs a lifestyle website. A very popular one.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s happening in this town. It’s just one murder after another. If this keeps up, no tourists are going to want to come here anymore.”

“Why did Uncle Alec say it was a nasty murder?” asked Dooley from the backseat.

“Because the woman was murdered in a gruesome way.”

She could hear Dooley gulp. Gran’s cat was a sensitive plant when it came to things like murder, and she was starting to wonder if it was such a good idea to bring him along. Max, she knew, could handle himself, and so could Brutus and Harriet. But Dooley was the baby of the cat menagerie, and sometimes got spooked by his own shadow. “Maybe you better wait in the car, Dooley,” she suggested. “While the others snoop around.”

“But I want to snoop around, too,” said Dooley. “I love snooping around.”

She smiled. That was obvious. All her cats loved snooping around, which was why she took them along in the first place. They often talked to other pets, or even pets that belonged to the victims, and had proved invaluable when ferreting out clues.

Her uncle Alec was aware of this unique talent. Chase? Not so much, though by now he was used to this quirky side of her personality. He even thought it was cute. She’d never told him she could communicate with her cats, though, and probably never would. He might not take it too well.

She thought about Chase and a warm and fuzzy feeling spread through her chest. She’d never thought she would fall for the rugged cop but she had. And by the looks of things, he liked her, too, which was a real boon. They even shared a comfortable working relationship now, which was very different from the way things were when they first met. The burly cop, a recent transplant from the NYPD, wasn’t used to nosy reporters investigating a bunch of crimes alongside him. Fortunately she’d quickly proven her worth, and now he was more than happy to allow her to tag along.

As if he’d read her mind, Max asked, “So how are things between you and Chase?”

“Yeah,” Harriet chimed in. “When are you going to get married?”

She saw how Max and Dooley shared a quick look of panic and laughed. “Hold your horses, young lady. Who said anything about me and Chase getting married?”

“It’s all over town,” said Harriet with a shrug. “All the cats are talking about it.”

“Which means all the Hampton Covians are talking about it,” Max said.

That was true enough. The Hampton Cove cat community was like a barometer of the human community. She blushed slightly. “So what are they saying, exactly?”

“Well, that the wedding will take place later this year, though it might be sooner rather than later because the first baby is already underway.” The gorgeous Persian screwed up her face. “What is a shotgun wedding, Odelia?”

Odelia’s blush deepened. “A shotgun wedding? Is that what they’re saying?”

All four cats nodded. “I think it means that everybody brings a shotgun to the wedding,” said Brutus knowingly.

“Don’t be an idiot,” said Max. “Why would anyone bring a shotgun to a wedding? That’s just dumb.”

“Who are you calling dumb, fatso? They’re obviously bringing shotguns to make sure nobody crashes the wedding. Duh.”

“Crashes the wedding?” asked Dooley. “Is that even a thing?”

“Didn’t you see that movie last week? Wedding crashers? Two guys go around crashing weddings and having a blast,” said Brutus.

“Until they fall in love and get married themselves,” said Harriet. “I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. Though I didn’t like that they portrayed Bradley Cooper as such a nasty person. I like Bradley Cooper. He’s so handsome and cute.”

“He’s not that handsome,” said Brutus. “His mouth is too big for his face.”

“It is not. His mouth is just the right size.”

“The right size for what?” scoffed Brutus. “To load a Big Mac in one bite?”

“Listen, you guys,” said Odelia, interrupting this fascinating discussion of Bradley Cooper’s face. “For one thing, Chase and I are not getting married. And for another, I’m not pregnant so there won’t be a shotgun wedding.”

“That’s too bad,” said Harriet, her face falling. “I was looking forward to being a bridesmaid.”

“That’s impossible,” said Max. “Cats can’t be bridesmaids. That’s just preposterous.”

Harriet narrowed her eyes. “What are you saying, Max? That I wouldn’t make a wonderful bridesmaid? For your information, I would be the perfect bridesmaid. I don’t even have to wear a dress. I’m beautiful just the way I am.”

Odelia smiled. “That’s true. And if I ever get married, you guys will all get to come.”

Max groaned. “Do I have to? I hate weddings. Everybody is always crying. Those things are even worse than funerals.”

“People are crying because they’re happy, Max,” said Odelia. “Those are happy tears.”

“I don’t get it,” said the blorange cat. “Why cry when you’re happy? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Yes, it does,” said Harriet. “You wouldn’t understand, though, Max. And that’s because you’re a Neanderthal.”

“No, I’m not,” said Max. “I’m a cat, not a Neanderthal.”

“What’s a Neanderthal?” asked Dooley.

“It’s a kind of old human,” said Max. “With a lot of hair and a big mouth.”

“Like Bradley Cooper,” said Brutus.

“Bradley Cooper is not a Neanderthal!” Harriet snapped. “Bradley Cooper is gorgeous.”

“More gorgeous than me?” asked Brutus, stung.

Harriet’s face softened. “Of course not, cutie pie. Nobody can be more gorgeous than you.”

“Maybe you should have one of those shotgun weddings,” Max grumbled. “So I can bring a shotgun and shoot myself.”

“We’re here,” said Odelia cheerfully, cutting off all this nonsense about a shotgun wedding. She just hoped those rumors hadn’t reached her mother’s ears. Nobody likes to hear about their daughter’s supposed pregnancy and forced wedding because of gossip. Then again, maybe it was a good thing. If people thought she and Chase were about to get married, she should probably take it as a compliment. Though the town’s gossip mill was obviously getting a little ahead of itself this time around.

True, there had been a lot of kissing lately, but things hadn’t progressed beyond that. Yet. Did she want them to go beyond that stage? Maybe. Did Chase want to? She had absolutely no idea. Chase was one of those strong, silent types. The ones that don’t wear their hearts on their sleeves. Beyond those kisses they had yet to address whatever it was that was going on between them. Heck, he hadn’t even asked her out. Maybe he never would? Maybe those kisses were just a way of showing his appreciation for all she’d done for the community? Maybe it was an NYPD thing: instead of shaking hands, NYPD cops simply kissed their colleagues. It was definitely not something she’d ever seen on NYPD Blue. Then again, they never showed everything on those shows.

She parked right behind her uncle’s squad car and got out, allowing the four cats to jump from their respective seats.

“Let’s go, guys,” she said. “You know the drill. Talk to witnesses. Try to find out what happened here.”

She watched the cats traipse up to the house and smiled. Her own personal feline detective squad. She wouldn’t know what to do without them.

She watched her uncle take off his sunglasses and take in their surroundings. Donna Bruce had done well for herself, that much was obvious. The house was built in hacienda style, with a low red-tile roof and stuccoed orange outer walls.

“Nice place,” said Uncle Alec admiringly. “Though more like something one would expect in the Hollywood Hills than out here in Hampton Cove.”

“Isn’t Donna originally from Los Angeles?”

“She is. She only moved out here to put some distance between herself and her ex-husband. And because her company is headquartered in New York.”

“This is such a coincidence,” Odelia said as she watched the police activity around the house. Half a dozen squad cars were haphazardly parked on the circular driveway, and an ambulance stood, lights flashing, indicating the coroner was already there.

“What is?” asked her uncle, hoisting his pants over his bulk and patting down his few strands of hair.

“Just this morning a package arrived from donna.vip for your mother.”

Chief Alec closed his eyes. “God, not again. I thought Marge put a stop to that nonsense.”

“What nonsense?”

“Didn’t she tell you? Your grandmother has been ordering those packages for weeks now. She’s addicted to that Donna crap. And the worst part? Your mom has been footing the bill as Vesta doesn’t have a credit card. Marge told me she’s up to five grand now.”

Odelia’s jaw dropped. “Five grand!”

“Yeah, for a bunch of useless stuff. According to Marge she even bought one of those steamers for her, um, well, you know what.”

Odelia frowned. “A vegetable steamer?”

Uncle Alec suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Not exactly. She uses it on her… business.”

“Her business?”

He heaved an exasperated groan. “Her lady parts, all right?”

Odelia smiled. “She bought a vaginal steamer?” Uncle Alec grumbled something under his breath as he stalked off. She hurried to keep up with him. “No wonder Mom is mad. That stuff must cost a fortune.”

“And it’s not as if she needs it,” said her uncle. “I mean, she’s seventy-five, for crying out loud. What does she need a vaginal steamer for?”

“Well, she does have a very active sex life.”

Uncle Alec winced. He directed a pleading look at his niece. “Please, Odelia. I don’t need to hear all that.”

Which was probably why Mom had allowed this buying frenzy to go on as long as it had. Nobody wanted to sit down with Gran and have a serious conversation about her sex life. It wasn’t a topic one simply launched into.

“I’ll talk to Gran,” she promised. “Tell her to ease up on the spending.”

“You do that,” her uncle grumbled.

They walked into the house and Odelia admired her surroundings. Donna Bruce had taste, that much was obvious. The foyer had a homey feel, with its hardwood floors, soft pink wallpaper and white lacquered furniture. And as they progressed into the living room and then the kitchen, she had to admit she wouldn’t mind living in a place like this. Selling jade eggs and vaginal steamers had obviously been very lucrative for the founder of donna.vip.

They reached the spa area, where a small indoor pool awaited them, along with the sauna cabin where Donna’s housekeeper had found the body of her employer that morning.

“You better prepare yourself for a shock,” said Uncle Alec. “It’s not a pretty sight.”

She braced herself and stepped into the sauna. Donna Bruce was lying on the floor, partly covered by a towel, her face swollen beyond recognition. Every part of her body that was visible had suffered the same fate. The woman had literally been stung to death.

She swallowed. “How—how did they get the bees in here?”

Uncle Alec gestured at the fan that was placed in the ceiling. “They reversed the airflow and placed an entire batch of bees on top of it. The little beasties must have been pretty pissed off when they were propelled past the fan’s blades and into this extremely hot environment. They simply attacked the first thing they came into contact with. Which was Donna Bruce.”

“I’m guessing she died from anaphylactic shock,” said the coroner, who was standing in a corner, picking up the body of a dead bee and dumping it into a plastic baggie. Abe Cornwall was a shabbily-dressed man with frizzy gray hair but he was an ace medical examiner. “Though judging from the state of the body, she might have died from the venom itself. She must have sustained thousands of stings in a matter of minutes.”

“This entire cabin was full of bees when the housekeeper arrived,” Uncle Alec explained. “Thousands and thousands of them.”

“And there’s no question whether this was an accident or not?” asked Odelia.

“No way,” another male voice spoke.

She turned around with a smile, and got a small shock of pleasure when she found herself gazing into the gold-flecked chocolate eyes of Chase Kingsley. He filled the entire doorframe with his muscular physique, and the cabin with his powerful presence. “So it was definitely murder, huh?”

“Definitely,” said Chase with a smile of greeting.

“I’ll let you two kids come up with a theory as to who’s responsible,” said Uncle Alec. “I have to talk to the ex-husband about what to do with the kids.”

“The kids?” asked Odelia.

“Yeah.” Uncle Alec frowned at his notebook. “Sweetums and Honeychild. Good thing they weren’t here when it happened.”

“Oh, those poor babies,” said Odelia.

“Big babies,” said Uncle Alec. “Sweetums and Honeychild are six.” He shook his head. “Who gives their kid a name like that?”

“Donna Bruce,” said Chase, staring down at the victim. He glanced up at the chief. “So am I in charge of this thing, Chief?”

“Yes, you are,” said Chief Alec. “Along with Odelia—in an entirely unofficial capacity, of course.”

Chase gave her a grin. “Looks like the gang is back together, babe.”

She returned his smile. “Yay.”

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