by Nic Saint
“Um…”
“I know we said you’d move in, but considering this new situation, maybe we should reconsider?”
“I can wait. How long before she moves back out?”
“A week. Tops.”
“Don’t tell me. This isn’t the first time.”
“Last time she moved out was because Dad made her wash the dishes. She told him she wasn’t his flunky and Dad told her he wasn’t her houseboy and things kind of escalated from there. Took them a week to make nice again and for things to return to normal.”
“I can wait a week.”
“You can still sleep over.”
“With Granny breathing heavily in the next room? I don’t think so.”
“I thought nothing could turn you off?”
“Honey, the thing that can turn me off still has to be born or invented, but I draw the line at getting hot and heavy with my girlfriend while her grandmother hovers over the bed with a curious expression on her face. Call me a prude but exhibitionism isn’t my thing.”
As she disconnected the thought occurred to her that this would put a serious crimp in her love life. Then her mind returned to Tracy Sting, the woman who was now their prime suspect in the Burt Goldsmith murder. From what the four most interesting men had told them the woman could hold her own as a gunslinger as well as possessing a black belt in all the known martial arts forms as well as a few she’d never even heard about. Armed and dangerous, Chase had called her, and had told his fellow officers to keep a lookout for the woman. Chances were that Burt’s killer had been right under their noses all along.
She moved upstairs to help her grandmother settle in—or convince her to move out. When she found the old lady bouncing up and down on the bed in the guest bedroom, she abandoned that particular hope. Granny Muffin looked like she was ready to make her granddaughter’s home her new permanent home away from home.
“Did you find the sheets?” she asked, then saw that Gran had. Her finest pink ones, no less. The ones with the Hello Kitty theme. The ones she’d put away when Chase started staying over. Nothing acts as a natural testosterone repellent like Hello Kitty pink does.
“I found a male toothbrush in the bathroom,” Gran announced sternly.
How she would distinguish a male toothbrush from a female one Odelia did not know. As far as she knew toothbrushes were genderless. Nevertheless she blushed.
“It’s possible Chase has been staying over once or twice.”
Gran cocked her head. “Honey, I don’t want to interfere with your love life.”
Hope surged.
“So whenever you guys feel horny just tell me and I’ll put in my earplugs.”
Hope crashed.
“How long will you be staying?” she asked, braving Granny’s ire.
“Forever by the looks of things.” She glanced around at the guest bedroom, a small affair in comparison to Gran’s own room next door. “I like it here. I think I’ll be very happy. Do you have a VCR? I don’t want to miss my favorite shows. I like to tape them just in case.”
“VCR went out the window when the world went digital, Gran.”
Gran’s eyes went wide. “I’m gonna miss my shows? I can’t miss my shows!”
“Relax. I’ve got DVR, and so has Dad.”
“Yeah, ask for instructions. He’s got all the deets. He’s been taping my stuff forever.” A cloud momentarily passed over her face, and her dentures dug into her lower lip at the mention of her son-in-law. The moment passed and then she was strong again. “Better yet, ask Alec. He’ll know what to do. At least Alec never kicked me out of his home.”
“You never lived in Alec’s home, Gran.”
“That’s what I meant,” she said vaguely, then bounced up from the bed. “Now show me how to work the shower. I like it not too hot, not too cold, and Tex never moves the mixer tap. I hate it when people move the mixer tap. Pisses me off big time.”
And as Odelia followed her grandmother into the bathroom, she discovered a newfound appreciation for her mother and father’s predicament. She’d lived with her grandmother for all of half an hour and already she was contemplating geronticide.
Chapter 27
We were finally on our way home, having struck out in our mission to find Burt’s Shadow. Dooley kept harping on about Uncle Alec and Harriet and Brutus for a while but then fell into a contemplative silence. Which suited me just fine. I had my own thoughts to contend with. It might surprise you but cats are deep thinkers. And so it was that when Dooley finally spoke again, it was to launch into a train of thought that took me by surprise.
“Maybe we should get girlfriends, Max.”
I was slightly taken aback. “Girlfriends? What do you mean?”
“Like Uncle Alec and that mystery woman in the car. Or Brutus and Harriet.” He shrugged. “Everybody has a girlfriend. Even Uncle Alec has a girlfriend. What about Shanille? You like Shanille, don’t you? And she can sing. Who doesn’t want a girlfriend who can sing?”
The thought of Father Reilly’s homely tabby didn’t stir any of those finer feelings in me that one associates with eternal love and affection and I told Dooley in no uncertain terms that never in my life would I want to find myself in a passionate embrace with Shanille.
“Then who, Max? There has to be a Molly out there for us somewhere, right?”
Frankly I hadn’t given the matter as much thought as Dooley obviously had. Which just goes to show. Still waters sometimes do run deep. Or is it shallow waters? No matter.
“Look, if the right one is out there for us, one day we’ll find her. Or she’ll find us.”
He gave me a look of hope. “You think so?”
“I know so.” Actually I didn’t, but the topic of conversation was not one on which I cared to dwell at the moment.
“What about Clarice?”
“What about her?”
“Doesn’t she make your heart go pitter-patter?”
Clarice did make my heart go pitter-patter, but that was probably because she scared the living daylights out of me. “Not really. Why? Do you like her?”
He gave this serious consideration. “I admire her. I think she’s great. But I don’t see her in a romantic light. Not like Richard Gere saw Julia at the end of Pretty Woman. Or all those couples in Love Actually. Though I do think that one day Clarice will find love again.”
“Again? You think she found it before?”
That was a toughie, and he was lost in thought once more. When he finally emerged, it was to address a different topic altogether. “Maybe I should take one of those pills.”
I looked up in alarm. “Pills? What pills?”
“The ones you and Brutus took. It’s obvious they did you a lot of good.”
“They made us puke our guts out.”
“And then they made you find love.”
“I didn’t find love.”
“You found Clarice—and I do think she likes you, Max. The way she was looking at you just now.”
“She called me a sissy cat!”
“I’m sure she meant it as a compliment.” He sighed wistfully. “My one true love will come to me once I take those pills. I’m sure about that now.”
Good thing Odelia threw those pills in the trash. We’d arrived home and traipsed in through the cat door Odelia had her dad and uncle and Chase install in the kitchen. Yes, it had taken three men to install one little door. Yours truly had gotten stuck in the first iteration, and the next ones, but the current version was one size fits all—even my size.
To our surprise Grandma was seated on the sofa, watching one of her daytime soaps.
“Gran? What are you doing here?” I asked upon seeing the crusty old lady.
“Watching television. What does it look like I’m doing?” she said without looking away from a couple of overly handsome doctors chatting up a couple of overly pretty female patients.
“Shouldn’t you be watching television in your own home?” I asked, having developed a powe
rful sense of privacy ever since the Brutuses and Chase Kingsleys of this world had started invading my home.
She waved an annoyed hand. “This is my home now. I moved in with my granddaughter.”
Dooley and I shared a look of surprise.
“You’re not going to Colorado?” asked Dooley, hope surging.
“Nah. The Goldsmiths can have their Colorado. They don’t want me—I don’t want them. Good riddance.” She cast a quick glance down at Dooley. “You look awfully pleased.”
Dooley couldn’t speak from the emotion clogging up his throat so I decided to speak for him. “Dooley was afraid you were going to take him to Colorado, away from his friends and family.”
Grandma frowned, as if she hadn’t considered this. “Look, fellas,” she said finally, “maybe this whole Goldsmith business wasn’t such a bright idea after all. I mean, going to live with one’s in-laws can be a terrible nuisance. Just look at me and Tex. What a mess! I swear to God, if that Philippe or any of his ilk had given you or me a hard time, I’d have packed my bags and returned to Hampton Cove just as soon as I had the chance, millions or no millions.” She scratched Dooley, who’d jumped up on the couch, behind the ears. “I’d never let anyone talk down to you, my pet. You know that, right? If those people had given you the cold shoulder I’d have told them to go screw themselves. Besides, I’m needed here.”
This gave me pause. Needed here? Dooley, too, found this statement odd.
“Needed for what, Gran?” he asked.
One eye on her soap opera and one eye on Dooley, she said vaguely, “Odelia, of course. It’s obvious she’s gonna need the sage advice of a wise woman like myself.”
This could only mean one thing, and Dooley came right out and said it: “Babies?”
“Uh-huh,” said Gran absently. A particularly handsome doctor was now nuzzling the neck of a particularly pretty female patient, and so she shushed us when we said more.
Dooley jumped down from the couch and joined me for an impromptu emergency meeting in the kitchen, next to my bowls of filtered water, tasty kibble and prime pâté.
“Gran has moved in,” Dooley said, summing up the salient point succinctly.
“Yes, she has,” I said, nodding seriously.
“And she just admitted she’s here for the babies—plural.”
“Yes, she did.”
“You know what this means, Max.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Soon there won’t be a place for us here.”
“No, there won’t.”
We shared a look of extreme concern, one thought at the forefront of our minds.
“The pound!” we both bleated.
Chapter 28
“Where can she be?” Odelia asked annoyedly. She and Chase had been looking all over for Tracy Sting, but thus far the woman had eluded their dragnet. The rest of the Hampton Cove Police Department, too, had kept a watchful eye—but no luck there either.
They were back at the hotel, seated in the lobby, knowing that sooner or later the woman had to show up there. Her room was empty, that much they knew, and she hadn’t been in since right after the explosion that had taken her client’s life. So where was she?
“She might have returned home,” Chase suggested.
“Columbus, Ohio? Didn’t you put out an APB on her?”
“I did, but if she rented a car she might have slipped through.”
“Her clothes are in her room. Her luggage. Everything.”
“If she’s the one that did this she might have left regardless.”
Which meant they were wasting precious time in this lobby. It felt as if Odelia had spent days at this hotel already, which actually was partly true. She dug into the bowl with potato-covered peanuts the receptionist had been so kind to put out for them. Probably another bad idea. But they were seriously addictive and she’d always been a nervous eater.
“So did your grandmother get settled in all right?”
She gave Chase an ‘are-you-kidding-me’ look. “She took my Hello Kitty sheets.”
“Uh-oh.”
“And then she told me she’s going to stay with me permanently. As in for-e-vah.”
Now it was his turn to give her the look.
She threw up her hands. “I can’t just throw her out, Chase. She’s my grandmother.”
“We could… all move in together. You, me and Granny. That could be... fun. Right?”
He didn’t sound convinced. “You and me and my grandmother. In the same house.”
“Why not? How bad can it be?”
“Bad. Very bad.” She sighed. “We’ll just have to learn to live without, I guess.”
“Live without…” He gestured between them. “…this?”
“Uh-huh. She told me something about putting in her earplugs but I wouldn’t feel comfortable with my granny in the next room. Like you said, it’s something of a turn-off.”
“When you put it like that.”
“I don’t know how Mom and Dad have managed all these years.”
“Maybe they never do it?”
She grimaced. “Let’s not go there.” Imagining her parents like that was an even bigger turn-off than imagining her grandmother in the next room, listening to every noise she and Chase made. Then she brightened. “We could rent a room. Here. At this fine establishment.”
He placed an arm around her shoulder. “Or we could do it in my car. Or yours. I’m not picky.”
She giggled, snuggling into his arm. “I’d like that. Let’s steam up some windows.”
Just then, Chase’s phone chimed. When he placed it to his ear and listened, he arched an eyebrow, as if what he was hearing was a highly unusual piece of news. After he disconnected the call, he was silent for a few beats.
“Was that the station?” she asked.
He nodded automatically.
“Well, what did they say? Did they find Tracy Sting?”
“Oh, they found her,” he said in a toneless voice.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Go interrogate the lady.”
“It wasn’t just her they found.”
“What do you mean? She had an accomplice?”
“You could say that.” He seemed to shake something off. “A citizen called in a complaint about a display of public indecency. A couple were going at it inside a stationary vehicle. Going at it with some eagerness I might add. Steamed-up windows and everything.”
“Don’t tell me. Our Miss Nitro and her mystery accomplice?”
He turned to her. “Miss Nitro and your uncle, actually. Cops were dispatched and found them in flagrante delicto inside Alec’s police cruiser—both in a state of undress.”
They walked into the police station, and judging from the looks Dolores, the crusty receptionist, was giving them, by now everyone and their uncle were aware of what had happened. “I can’t believe my uncle the police chief would do such a thing,” Odelia said.
“I can’t believe he’d use the cruiser. Isn’t that misappropriation of police property?”
“Who cares about the car? He was canoodling with a felon!”
“Maybe she’s one of those femme fatales,” he offered. “Those are hard to resist.”
They arrived at interview room number one, where the entire Hampton Cove police force stood staring through the little window at the woman locked inside. She was a striking beauty, no doubt about it. Flaming red hair, perfect features, a chest Odelia would have given her eyeteeth for. At least she was dressed, which hadn’t been the case when they arrested her, as the arresting officer loudly explained to his fascinated audience.
“Where’s my uncle?” asked Odelia.
They all pointed to interview room number two. Odelia took a glance through the window and saw her uncle fuming silently inside, pacing the small space. She grimaced. Awkward. Chase had followed her and placed a hand on her back. “I’ll interview the woman first. See what she says. And then I’ll deal with your uncle.”
She watched as
Chase entered the interview room along with a colleague, and folded her arms across her chest. She noticed how every cop standing there with her did the same, all settling in for what promised to be a most entertaining show.
“Miss Sting,” said Chase as he took a seat, his colleague, a female officer named Sarah Flunk, rifling through some notes as she shot not-so-friendly glances at the suspect. “Are you aware that there are laws in this state against public lewdness?”
Miss Sting made an annoyed gesture. “We were in a private vehicle parked in a back alley, hidden from view or so we thought. Can I help it if some nosy parker peeping tom pervert do-gooder decided to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong? And isn’t the chief of police exempt or something?”
Chase coughed into his fist. “Where did you and the Chief meet?”
She leveled an icy look at him. “Why don’t you ask him?”
“I’m asking you.”
“I met him in a bar. He accused me of being a cold-blooded murderer so I invited him to dinner. That’s when he came after me and invited me into his car. Things kinda took off from there.” She made a gesture of annoyance. “Look, we’re consenting adults, officer—”
“Detective.”
“Whatever. None of your business what your boss and I were doing in his car.”
“Fine,” he said. “Frankly I don’t care what you and Chief Alec were doing. What does concern me is that you’re the prime suspect in a murder investigation and that your engaging with the person in charge of that investigation amounts to a form of bribery.”
She uttered an exclamation. “Bribery? Really? Are you nuts?”
“Insulting a police officer isn’t going to—”
“No, really. I already told Alec I didn’t have anything to do with this whole Burt Goldsmith thing.” She sliced the air with her hand, spitting out the words. “No-thing!”
Chase smiled. “Obviously you were most persuasive.”
“You’re a pig,” said the woman, shaking her head.
“And you’re in hot water here, lady. We have four witnesses who claim your company hired you to ‘take care of’ Burt when he wouldn’t go quietly into the night. So you decided to release him from his contract with a bang. What did you tell him? You’re fired?”