The Mysteries of Max: Books 31-33

by Nic Saint

  “All right,” she said at length. “Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll talk it over with my boss. See if he thinks it’s a good idea. And I’ll let you know as soon as I decide. How does that sound?”

  “That sounds excellent,” said Joshua, looking much relieved. “Though I have to tell you that this is a matter of some urgency, as my friend told me just this morning that Melanie told him she’s got another late night scheduled for tonight.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” said Odelia, continuing to be noncommittal, even though I could tell that she was intrigued, and eager to take the case and look into this matter.

  Chapter 2

  “Dan, I need to ask you something.”

  Odelia’s boss Dan Goory, senior—and only—editor of the Hampton Cove Gazette, looked up from the perusal of his own newspaper, and gave his senior—and only—reporter a quick glance. “Don’t tell me you finally wrote that tell-all article about your Vegas wedding?”

  Odelia grimaced. “I’ll never write that article, Dan. I told you that.”

  “But people are waiting to read all about it, honey. Warts and all.” He grinned, his white beard waggling invitingly. “In fact the more warts the better, you know that.”

  “There was nothing especially exciting about my wedding, Dan. We flew down there, got married, had dinner, and that’s it. Shortest and least glamorous wedding in history.”

  “Come on,” he goaded her. “There must be something. Pictures of your grandmother completely drunk and dancing on top of the table? Or your dad hitting the slot machines and making a killing—or the slot machines killing him?”

  “Nothing happened, Dan. Nothing worth reading about.”

  Her editor shrugged his shoulders, and a frown slid across his aged features. “Look, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. What did you want to see me about?”

  His tone had taken on a more official note, a note she didn’t like. She heaved a silent sigh. Ever since she’d returned from Vegas people had been acting a little weird, and she knew exactly why that was. The list of wedding guests had been extremely short: only Odelia’s and Chase’s immediate family and friends, and no one else. And quite a few people in her circle were still upset that they hadn’t been included in the festivities.

  “I just had a guy come in who wants me to look into the alleged affair of his best friend’s wife,” she said, taking a seat in front of her boss’s desk. “Only problem is…”

  “You’re not a private investigator,” he said tersely. “You’re a reporter and so you have no business taking on clients and investigating their cases.”

  “Yeah, that’s about the gist of it,” she admitted. She’d hoped Dan would be encouraging. That he would say, ‘Of course, Odelia—go for it! Investigate away!’ Instead he regarded her a little coldly. “So look, I didn’t want to take the case without discussing it with you first. So this is me, discussing it with you.”

  “Well, we’ve discussed it,” said Dan, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers. “And I have to tell you I don’t think this is a good idea, Odelia. You’re not a licensed investigator… What happens if you get hurt in the course of this investigation? You’re not insured. You’re not protected. There are reasons why private detectives have to get a license and have to take out insurance. You can’t just go around pretending to be a detective like some overage Nancy Drew.” He must have seen the dismay she clearly felt for being called an overage Nancy Drew, for he suddenly softened, those harsh lines in his face smoothing out. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I know that you’re an ace sleuth, licensed or not licensed, and I also know that your reputation is spreading through this community like wildfire, so more and more people will find their way to your doorstep—or your office door…” He paused, then seemed to relent. “Why is this guy—”

  “Joshua Curtis,” she quickly supplied.

  “Why is Joshua Curtis so eager to ascertain whether his friend’s wife is having an affair? What business is it to him? She’s not his wife.”

  “He feels protective of his friend, I guess. He happened to find out that the guy’s wife is lying and now he wants to figure out what’s going on.”

  “Why doesn’t he simply talk to her about it?”

  “He’s afraid to. Afraid she’ll get upset. Also, he’s not sure.”

  “I see.”

  “So he figures if I dig around a little, and maybe snap a couple of shots, he’s got proof. And she won’t be able to dismiss him when he does finally confront her.”

  “Okay, so suppose she is having an affair, and that you do get this… photographic evidence of these illicit fumblings behind her husband’s back. Then what?”

  “Like I said, he’ll confront her with the evidence, and tell her that if she doesn’t stop the affair he’ll tell her husband.”

  Dan thought about this for a moment. “Look, I know Joshua. And I know how close he and Jason Myers are.”

  “You know these guys?” She shouldn’t have been surprised. Dan probably knew everyone in Hampton Cove. That’s what happened when you published a weekly paper for over forty years.

  “Oh, sure. I remember when they were little, Jason used to get into all kinds of trouble, and Joshua would then try to get him out of it. They were like brothers, those two.”

  “Still are, from what I understand.”

  Dan leaned forward. “What surprises me is Melanie having an affair. She doesn’t seem like the type.”

  “Do you have to be a certain type to have an affair?” asked Odelia a little ironically.

  “Well, yeah, I think so. Take you, for instance. I can tell you for a fact that you will never cheat on your husband, and neither will your husband ever cheat on you.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” she quipped.

  He quirked a bushy white eyebrow. “I’m being serious here, Odelia. It’s human psychology. You and Chase simply aren’t wired that way.”

  “And Melanie Myers isn’t either?”

  “I didn’t think so. Though if what you’re saying is true, then obviously I was wrong. Maybe my mischief radar isn’t as tuned as well as I thought.”

  “So what do you think, boss? Do I take the case or not?” She eagerly awaited his response. She enjoyed these infrequent forays into the world of sleuthing, though if Dan told her to say no, she would. He was, after all, the boss. The guy paying the bills.

  “Do you see a story in there?” he asked.

  “Um…”

  He shrugged. “Just say yes. If Melanie really is having an affair behind her husband’s back, maybe it’s a good thing that Joshua is watching out for his friend. If nothing else we can always use it for our Dear Gabi column.”

  A wide smile spread across Odelia’s face. “Thanks, Dan,” she said, getting up. “You won’t regret it.”

  “And get busy on that article about your wedding!” he called after her. “I want to see pictures of your grandma completely plastered and so does everyone else in Hampton Cove!”

  Chapter 3

  I don’t know if you’ve ever been an assistant private sleuth? You haven’t? I can tell you right now that you haven’t missed much. Basically what sleuths do is sit in their cars and spy on people. Mostly people being unfaithful to their spouse. And then they try to take pictures of this act of adultery, as I think the technical term is, and show it to the husband or wife. Though in this case, I guess, we were doing things a little differently, as the photographic proof of Mrs. Myers’s infidelity would not go to her husband but to her husband’s childhood friend.

  And so it was that we were following Mrs. Myers around for the better portion of the day, and making sure we were in a position to catch her in the act. Odelia had picked her up as she left the house—and a very nice house it was, too, and one she would probably stand to lose if she kept up this infidelity thing—and then we trailed her all through town. Which basically meant we tailed her to the real estate agency where she worked as a broker, and sat t
here twiddling our thumbs for the better part of the morning.

  At one point Odelia had ventured inside, just to make sure our quarry was still present and accounted for, and hadn’t fled through the backdoor for some secret canoodling. But Melanie Myers had still been at her desk. In fact she’d been the one to join Odelia at the reception desk and ask her if she was in the market for a house. She’d of course immediately recognized Odelia as a new bride, and chatting had ensued.

  “Oh, God,” said Odelia the moment she let herself tumble down into her car seat, “I’m probably the worst private detective in the world. What was I thinking, going in there? Now she’s seen my face and when she sees me next she’ll know I’m following her around!”

  “What did she say?” I asked. “Does she know you’re tailing her?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Odelia with a shake of the head. “She asked me a lot of questions about the wedding, and wanted to know what dress I wore and all that guff.”

  “She’s not one of those people who are mad with you for not inviting them to the wedding, is she?” asked Harriet.

  “No, I don’t think she was invited. Though maybe she was. In the end there were so many people inviting themselves I have no idea who was and who wasn’t!” She rubbed her face. “Maybe I should do a course. Sleuthing for dummies or something. I’m sure there are tricks of the trade I should master before I put myself out there like this.”

  “You’re doing great,” said Dooley, who always likes to take a positive view of things.

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dooley,” said Odelia as she glanced through the windshield at the real estate agency across the street. It was called ‘wefindyourdreamhomeforyou.com’ and was a popular place, with plenty of customers walking in and out, and others stopping to do some window shopping. “At least now I know she’s still in there and not in some hotel or motel with her suspected lover boy.”

  “Who is this lover boy?” asked Harriet, who was very interested in this case, I felt. But then Harriet is really into things like The Bachelor and The Bachelorette, and I guess infidelity and relationship issues are part and parcel of those types of dating shows.

  “I have absolutely no idea,” said Odelia. “And as far as I could tell Joshua doesn’t have any idea either. Which is probably why he hired me: to find out who this guy is.”

  “If he even exists,” I said.

  “Oh, he exists, all right,” said Harriet. “Did you see the woman’s face? She looks much too happy. I’d say she’s been having a torrid affair for quite some time. No married person ever looks this happy.”

  Odelia slowly turned to face the prissy Persian. “I’m a married person. Are you saying I don’t look happy?”

  “Oh, but you just got married,” said Harriet quickly. “Newlyweds always look happy. It’s when they’ve been married for a while that the problems begin.”

  Odelia was frowning. A new bride doesn’t like to be reminded that marriage problems exist, let alone are a contingency to watch out for. “Pray tell, Harriet.”

  “Well, obviously I can’t speak from experience,” Harriet began.

  “Obviously.”

  “But from what I’ve seen, the problems usually begin when babies enter the picture. I think you’d do well to consider putting off any ideas of a family expansion in the immediate future. In fact I think having babies is the best way to guarantee the end of that blissful honeymoon stage you’re enjoying so much right now.”

  “And how do you figure that?” asked Odelia, who didn’t look entirely convinced by Harriet’s unbidden marriage advice.

  “Well, babies drive a wedge between husband and wife, see. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but babies cry. In fact crying is pretty much all they do. They cry at night, they cry during the day, and all this crying makes it so that mom and dad never get a minute of sleep. So this makes them cranky, as most humans need a lot of sleep. And that’s when the shouting begins, and the recriminations, and before long the D word is dropped.”

  “The D word?” asked Dooley. “You don’t mean… Drugs!”

  “I was actually thinking about Divorce, but drugs might be a factor,” Harriet said, nodding. “So you see? Better don’t start a family, Odelia. Besides, babies are overrated, and with overpopulation and stuff I think it’s wise to simply drop the whole idea.”

  “Oh, Harriet,” said Odelia with a laugh. “You’re like a walking, talking contraception ad.”

  Harriet, who clearly felt this was praise of the highest order, beamed. “Thank you!”

  “I think you should start with babies very soon,” said Dooley, countering Harriet’s gloomy view. “In fact I’m keeping an eye out for that stork for you, Odelia, and the moment I see him I’m flagging him down, don’t you worry.”

  “I’m not worried, Dooley,” said Odelia with a half-smile as she gave my friend a pat on the head. “But between you and me,” she added, leaning in and dropping her voice to a whisper, “babies are the furthest thing from my mind right now.”

  “Good!” Harriet cried. “Excellent! I suggest you keep it that way!”

  “But Odelia!” said Dooley. “What if the stork comes? What do I tell him?”

  “You tell him—” Odelia started to say, but whatever Dooley was supposed to tell the stork would have to wait, as just at that moment Melanie Myers came walking out of the agency, swinging a mean purse, sashaying in the direction of Main Street.

  “Max, Dooley, Harriet, Brutus!” Odelia snapped. “Follow that woman!”

  Chapter 4

  Odelia had opened the door and so we jumped out of the car and hurried to follow that woman, and not let her out of our sight even for one second!

  “I don’t understand, Max,” said Dooley as he panted a little from the exertion. “Why doesn’t Odelia follow her? Doesn’t she want to take pictures when she meets the boyfriend?”

  “Oh, Odelia is following her,” I assured my friend. And when we both glanced back we saw that indeed our human was following at some distance, making sure she wasn’t getting too close. On the other side of the street, meanwhile, Harriet and Brutus had also taken up the pursuit. So now no less than five operatives were on the case! Good thing four of those operatives were paid in kibble, or else this operation would get costly!

  “It would probably be a good thing if in the future Odelia outfitted us with some kind of tracking device,” I said, “or a hot mic through which we could all communicate. I think that’s how the professionals do things when they’re in surveillance mode.”

  “I don’t think I’d like it if Odelia gave me a hot mic,” said Dooley. “I think it would get very hot against my skin, and I don’t like hot things pressing against my skin.”

  “A hot mic isn’t actually hot, Dooley,” I explained. “They just call it a hot mic because it’s recording all the time.”

  “Oh. Then I guess it’s fine. She can give me a hot mic, so I can tell her when I see the stork.” He raised his eyes to the heavens to show me what he meant. Though apparently no storks were in evidence just then, for he kept his tongue, hot mic or not.

  As luck would have it, Melanie Myers walked into the hair salon, and since the hairdresser’s cat Buster is a close friend, our operative force had just expanded to six!

  Dooley and I immediately set paw inside, and slunk into a corner where we took up our vigil, remaining as inconspicuous as a blorange cat of sizable proportions and his gray ragamuffin friend can be. We shouldn’t have worried, though, for Melanie wasn’t the least bit interested in us—or the rest of her surroundings. In fact the moment she took a seat in the waiting area, and picked up a copy of Cosmo, her phone jangled and she expertly fished it out of her purse with long fingernails and clicked it to life.

  “She’s very pretty,” said Dooley as he stared at our target admiringly. And indeed Mrs. Myers was very pretty. She had that statuesque thing down pat, and her sense of dress was very elegant and chic. If a woman like Melanie showed me a house, I�
�m pretty sure I’d immediately say yes and snap it up at any price she wanted for it. Though of course as a cat it’s hard to buy a house since we rarely carry any money on our person or even have a bank account, for that matter. Plus, banks are hesitant to give us a mortgage.

  “Hello, darling,” Melanie purred into her phone as she turned her face to the window and stared out. She’d lowered her voice, and had added that sexy tone that some men like so much. “Are you ready for tonight?” she asked. She listened for a moment, and I could see her face fall. Evidently the person on the other end wasn’t ready for tonight, for she said sharply, “You have got to be kidding me.” There was more talking on the other end, though obviously I couldn’t hear what was being said, but Melanie’s face had taken on a look of consternation, so clearly things weren’t going according to plan. “Are you breaking up with me?” she asked, a sudden quiver in her voice. “Is that what this is?” And I guess that was exactly what this was, for a few moments later she said, very quietly, “Bye,” and lowered her phone, then just sat there for a moment, still gazing out of that window, but this time with what are usually termed unseeing eyes.

  I even thought I detected a tear that had formed in the eye that was visible from where I sat, and Dooley said, “What is happening, Max?”

  “I think her boyfriend just dumped her, Dooley,” I said.

  “Oh, so that’s a good thing, right?”

  “Melanie doesn’t seem to think so.”

  But then Fido Siniawski summoned her to take place in one of his chairs, and Melanie pulled herself together with an extreme effort and stalked over, head held high.