Chapter 27


“So? What have you found out?” asked Odelia the moment the cats were back. When she saw them coming she’d opened the door and they immediately hopped in.

“That the farm was robbed by two guys, one short with a strawberry nose and a purple spot on his lip, the other tall with a little mustache,” said Max, who was the first to speak.

A pervasive smell of duck permeated the car and Odelia wrinkled her nose. “That’s great! Did the ducks tell you that?”

“No, the wife of a cat-hating racist rabbit,” said Dooley.

“And we discovered that Wonder Woman is a duck,” said Harriet.

“And that Max is a great leader,” said Brutus, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Odelia decided not to go down that particular rabbit hole. “Uh-huh. Interesting.”

Milo was uncharacteristically quiet, and in the silence Odelia thought she could hear furious quacking. And when she squinted in the darkness, she thought she could see lights flash on all around the Potbelly farm. “What’s going on down there?” she asked.

“I think we better get out of here,” said Harriet, shuffling uneasily.

“Why? What happened? Did they find out you were in there?”

“They might have,” said Harriet.

There was a lot of commotion on the farm, Odelia now saw. People moving about and plenty of ducks, too. They seemed to be flocking together, moving as one flock of ducks away from their stable and in the direction of the houses the Potbellies had erected.

“Looks like the ducks are moving towards their owners’ houses,” said Odelia, surprised.

“Rise up,” Milo muttered softly. “Oh, rise up, ye mighty race.”

Odelia directed an odd look at Milo, then figured she’d better heed Harriet’s advice and return home. Whatever was going on at that farm, it was probably better if she wasn’t discovered lurking around.

During the ride home, the silence that had descended upon the car stretched on. She didn’t mind. She had some thinking to do about the murder case, and she figured her cats were probably tired from all that traipsing around on the Potbelly farm.

Soon enough they were home and she let them out of the car again. They walked in a straight line, still cloaked in silence, then into the house and to their respective perches. All of them except for Max and Dooley, who were off to choir practice as usual.

And as she was about to close the door, the tall figure of a man walked up to her. When he stepped into the light cast by the streetlamp in front of her door, she saw it was Chase. He watched as Milo walked into the house, tail up, followed by Brutus and Harriet.

“Now there’s something you don’t see every day,” said Chase as he casually leaned against the doorframe. “I always thought cats didn’t need to be taken for a walk, only dogs.”

“My cats are special,” she blurted out.

“That, they are,” he said with a slight grin.

“How long have you been out here?” she asked, noticing his parked pickup.

“Not that long. Half an hour, maybe. I tried calling but got your voicemail.”

Shoot. She’d turned off her phone when she set out for the farm. “I must have forgotten to switch it on again.”

He leaned in and took a sniff at her hair. “Smells familiar. In fact there’s only one place I can think of that ships out this particular scent in bulk.” He fixed her with a curious look. “Any particular reason you decided to go snooping around a duck farm at night?”

“I… just wanted to have another look at the farm—spend some time thinking.”

“So you didn’t go inside?”

“The cats might have. I just let them out of the car and let them wander about.”

“You’re such a terrible liar, Poole.”

“I’m not lying! I sat there, in my car, thinking about the case, and I figured since I was driving anyway, I might as well bring the cats along. For company. And because they like it.”

“And how would you know what your cats like and don’t like? Do you speak cat?”

It was such a direct question she almost replied in the affirmative. But then her sense of self-preservation kicked in and she laughed lightly. “Speak cat? Very funny, Chase.”

He gave her that cop look again, as if trying to figure out if she was telling the truth. She projected as innocent and careless a look as she could manage, which was a little hard as he was a very good cop, and he could look in a very piercing way when he wanted to. Finally, he relaxed. “So what do you think? Any bright ideas?”

“I think we should talk to some more people tomorrow.”

“Very clever, Poole. Now why didn’t I think of that?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “And while I was out there I met a source who gave me a description of the two men who burgled that farm. One was short with a strawberry nose and a purple spot on his upper lip, the other tall with a small mustache. That ring a bell, Kingsley?”

The moment she’d said it, she regretted it.

“Source? What source?”

“You know I can’t disclose my sources, Chase.”

He gave her a withering look. “I disclose mine, so I don’t see why you shouldn’t disclose yours.”

“I’m a reporter. My sources trust me to keep their identity confidential.”

“And I shouldn’t even be dragging you along on my interviews!”

They squared off for a moment, staring each other down.

“You look pretty sexy when you’re angry, Poole.”

“You look pretty hot yourself, Kingsley.”

“Your grandmother home?”

“Watching a movie.”

“Dammit.”

“How about a quickie in your car?”

A wolfish grin spread across his features. “Now you’re talking.”

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