The Mysteries of Max Box Sets 3
Page 1
The Mysteries of Max
Mysteries of Max Box Set 3
Nic Saint
Puss in Print Publications
Contents
The Mysteries of Max Box Set 3
Purrfect Peril
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
Purrfect Secret
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Epilogue
Purrfect Alibi
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Epilogue
Excerpt from Purrfect Obsession (The Mysteries of Max 10)
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The Mysteries of Max Box Set 3
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Purrfect Peril (The Mysteries of Max 7)
When the Most Fascinating Man in the World is murdered in a Most Fascinating Way, Odelia Poole, who was on her way to interview the man, finds herself embroiled in a Most Fascinating Murder Investigation, along with her boyfriend Chase Kingsley, homicide detective. More Interesting Men soon come crawling out of the woodwork, and all of them had a reason to kill their Most Interesting Colleague. So who’s the culprit? And will he or she strike again?
Meanwhile Max, Odelia’s blorange tabby, has his own problems to contend with in the shape of a pernicious flea infestation that gets him and the other cats sent to the place they fear even more than the loss of one of their nine lives: Vena the vet. And as if that’s not bad enough, there’s a persistent rumor going around that Chase Kingsley might be moving in with their human—and they know what that means: babies! Which would spell the end of their cushy lives.
Between the fleas, the baby menace, a troupe of Most Interesting Cats invading their world, Grandma Muffin’s latest antics, and helping Odelia with the murder investigation, life is once again lived in the fast lane for the cats of Hampton Cove, with not a moment’s respite. In other words, business as usual for the world’s most hilarious cat sleuths.
Purrfect Secret (The Mysteries of Max 8)
When Dick Dickerson, notorious editor of the National Star, is found drowned in duck dung, the investigation quickly gets mired down when trying to figure out who’s behind the attack on the tabloid kingpin. Politicians, movie stars and captains of industry consistently found themselves in Dickerson’s crosshairs, but who would stoop so low as murder?
While Odelia Poole and Detective Chase Kingsley conduct their investigation, Odelia’s cat coterie is up in arms when a newcomer turns the peaceful town of Hampton Cove into a soap opera of gossip, scandal and secrets. Soon the ‘Fab Four’ (Max, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus) are duking it out, their friendship in ruins, Max’s reputation in tatters.
It doesn’t help that Grandma Muffin is waging a personal vendetta against her son-in-law’s new receptionist Scarlett Canyon, determined to get rid of her long-time nemesis once and for all. Against the backdrop of all this bickering, backstabbing and strife, is it any wonder Max starts to wonder if Dickerson’s killer will be the one that got away?
Purrfect Alibi (The Mysteries of Max 9)
When Marge Poole managed to get the world’s bestselling writer to come down to Hampton Cove for a reading at the local library, she never expected to become a prime suspect when the man is found murdered instead. Now it’s up to her daughter Odelia to track down the real killer, before the murder turns Marge into an outcast in the small town they call home. But when Odelia’s grandmother insists she join the hunt, things suddenly get a little… complicated.
Meanwhile, Odelia’s cats have some issues of their own to contend with. Like the fact that Dooley has become convinced that the apocalypse is about to happen any day now, or that Brutus has been acting very strange lately. And then there’s the fact that Max and his friends have been tasked by Odelia to lend aid and support in her murder investigation. Soon they’re ferreting out clues, interviewing witnesses and discovering some surprises of their own.
Purrfect Peril
The Mysteries of Max - Book 1
Prologue
Burt Goldsmith poured another bottle of bubbly over his head, the effervescent gold nectar fizzing as it hit his mane, trickled down his trim physique, and splashed across the floor of the shower cabin. He rubbed the expensive liquor into his remarkably well-preserved fac
e—remarkable for a seventy-eight-year-old—and his thick thatch of white hair—another astonishing feat—and sighed contentedly. Other, lesser people might enjoy rubbing conditioner into their scalp but as the reigning Most Fascinating Man in the World he preferred a substance somewhat less mundane. A nice bottle of Moët & Chandon served his purposes just fine. He would have preferred Piper-Heidsieck but the hotel he was currently gracing with his exclusive presence had run out of his favorite brand so the Moët would have to do.
And it did. As soon as he’d splashed the contents of a second bottle across the remainder of his corpus, he was ready to face another day. He stepped from the pink marble shower into the pink marble bathroom and strode confidently into the adjoining bedroom, not bothering with a towel, sprightly moving to the window overlooking Hampton Cove’s busiest street. He didn’t go so far as to step out onto the balcony to greet the milling throngs below, but he did fling the window wide and sampled a lungful of air, planting his feet wide, hands on his thighs. The Most Fascinating Man in the World didn’t do towels. The Most Fascinating Man in the World air-dried.
As he stood there, his white hair flapping in the breeze like a lion’s mane, he glanced to the side table that bookended the bed and noticed a silver salver with a single bottle of beer and a note. He remembered hearing the room service person announcing his arrival and shouting him in from the bathroom. He hadn’t ordered room service, but figured another fan had left him another little present. His lady fans were always sending him personal items like edible panties or lacy little things accompanied by cheeky invitations to join them for lunch or dinner or—even more interestingly—into their boudoir.
The bottle of beer disappointed him. At first he presumed Tracy Sting had sent it up. A reminder of their lunch date. Tracy represented Dos Siglas, the well-known Mexican beer brand for whom Burt had made the popular Most Fascinating Man in the World commercials for the past fifteen years. He’d come to the Hamptons to shoot another commercial and Tracy was here to set everything up and make sure Burt had everything he needed and more. His idea of more, however, wasn’t a bottle of Dos Siglas. Personally he despised the stuff. Dishwater, he liked to call it. After all, beer was the drink of the plebs. He preferred champagne, the nectar of the gods and godly men like Burt Goldsmith.
As he stood there, his hairy chest thrust out, he suddenly noticed there was something off about this particular bottle. It didn’t have the typical slender shape of Dos Siglas. Instead it was squat and plump, like a bottle of Tres Siglas, Dos Siglas’s main competitor.
A sudden rage ripped through him. He knew who had sent him this bottle. Curt Pigott, the Most Compelling Man in the World. A man openly challenging his dominion as the world’s premier interesting man at every turn. A man dying to steal his crown. He growled a few words unfit for print under his breath, his very short and very manly beard bristling with rage, his bronze physique shedding those final few drops of Moët & Chandon Brut Impérial, and balled his fists.
This was the third time this week Curt had done this. Taunting him. Challenging him. Trying to get under his skin.
It wouldn’t work. Nothing got under the skin of the Most Fascinating Man in the World unless he sent it a personal monogrammed invitation to do so.
He crossed the floor to the side table in three powerful strides. He picked up the note, ascertaining that, yes, the bottle had indeed been sent by the Most Compelling Man in the World, and yes, it was a bottle of Tres Siglas prime ale. His dark eyes shooting sheets of flame, he crumpled up the note, picked up the bottle, which was cold to the touch, drops of condensation dappling the amber surface, and aimed it at the trashcan where it landed with a dull thud.
The explosion that blasted through the room took only milliseconds to turn the Most Fascinating Man in the World into the Most Fascinating Dead Man in the World, and Burt’s nice hotel room into a conflagration of fire and fury.
Chapter 1
Odelia Poole walked briskly along the street, her purse hiked high, her light blond hair bouncing jauntily around her shoulders, her slender frame clad in her usual work costume of white T, jeans and sneakers. She was on her way to one of the more exciting interviews of her career as a reporter for the Hampton Cove Gazette. Perhaps even the Most Exciting Interview in the World, she thought with a slight grin, as the interviewee she was about to meet was an actor who had made a name for himself as the Most Fascinating Man in the World, featuring in dozens of well-received ad campaigns for Dos Siglas beer.
Initially her editor Dan Goory had wanted to conduct the interview, big fan as he was of Burt Goldsmith and the man’s body of work. But Odelia had insisted. She couldn’t wait to meet the man—the legend—the icon. She had her list of questions written out, the recording app on her phone ready, and only a few more minutes separated her from the sit-down.
She glanced up at the Hampton Cove Star, the boutique hotel in downtown Hampton Cove, located right across the street from the Vickery General Store on Main Street, where all Hampton Covians like to stock up on supplies and shoot the breeze with Wilber Vickery, store owner and one of the town’s mainstays and longtime citizens.
She waved a jolly hello to Wilber, who stood greeting the customers in front of his store, and was just about to enter the hotel when a familiar figure rounded the corner and gave her a happy smile. It was the bespectacled figure of Philippe Goldsmith, Burt’s grandson and the person who’d set up the interview.
She halted in her tracks and returned the young man’s smile. Philippe didn’t look anything like his famous grandfather. He was in his mid-twenties, pale to the point of pasty, pudgy to the point of chubby, and nerdy to the point of Big Bang’s Sheldon Cooper awkward. Philippe dragged a hand through his straggly dark hair, pushed his horn-rimmed spectacles up his bulbous nose, and gave her a hesitant smile. “Oh, hi, Miss Poole,” he said.
“Hey, Philippe. Out shopping?”
He glanced down at the bulky bag he was carrying. “Oh, right. Yes. Yeah, just picking up some supplies for my granddad. The man enjoys his creature comforts.” He pulled a carton box from the bag. Judging from the label it held a bottle of Piper-Heidsieck champagne. He held it up. “He uses this as conditioner if you can believe it.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Conditioner?”
“Yeah, he says nothing tones and moisturizes the scalp like high-quality bubbly. In fact he credits champagne as the secret ingredient that has allowed him to keep his hair so luxuriant and shiny in spite of his advanced age.” He clasped a hand in front of his mouth. “Oops. I probably shouldn’t have said that. Especially to a reporter such as yourself.”
She laughed. “The advanced age bit or the champagne secret?”
“Both,” he said with an engaging grin. “Off the record?”
She nodded, tucking away these little tidbits for later use in her article.
“For a man who’s about to enter his eighth decade he looks remarkably well.”
“That’s definitely true,” she agreed. Though she’d wondered if it was Photoshop or Hollywood trickery that made Burt Goldsmith look so ageless. Apparently it wasn’t.
“Anyway, we better go up,” Philippe said. “Granddad doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“I’m ready if you are.”
And Philippe had just opened his mouth to retort when there was an ear-splitting bang and something seemed to explode overhead. Odelia glanced up just in time to see flames shooting out from a second-floor window and a round object being catapulted down to the sidewalk. The round object came to a full stop against her foot, and as she looked down she saw that it was nothing other than the head of Burt Goldsmith himself.
The head was smoking, as if it had been on fire, and was still wearing that typical Most Fascinating Man in the World smirk, that roguish Sean Connery glint in those dark eyes, and a bemused expression on that handsomely bearded face. Burt Goldsmith’s lips were parted, as if on the verge of delivering his famous line, ‘Stay cool my friends.’