by Nic Saint
Dolores laughed. “I can just imagine their faces when they found out the wedding was canceled! They must have been so annoyed!”
“Anyway, so I wanted to ask you about last night’s fire.”
“Uh-huh. Shoot.”
“So you got the call, right?”
“I got three calls, in fact.”
“Three calls?”
“Sure. Just lemme check.” She tapped a few keys on her computer. “Here we go. So the first call came in at eleven forty-eight, okay?”
“Who made the call?”
“I don’t know. They didn’t give me a name. Said they wanted to report a fire on Parker Street. Then the second caller didn’t give me his name either. This was at eleven fifty. And then a minute later your grandmother called in.”
“Okay.”
Dolores took off her reading glasses. “So the second caller sounded kinda winded, as if he was walking and talking. And of course we now know that the second caller was Curtis, as he was calling from his own phone, the dumbass.” When Odelia gave her a look, she added, “You have to be pretty dumb to call in your own crime from your own phone, Odelia!”
“Unless he didn’t do it.”
“Yeah, right. So the only thing that struck me as odd is that the Dibbles didn’t call in.”
“The Dibbles? Who are they?”
“Bart and Vanda Dibble. They’re neighbors. They live right across the street. They’re usually the first to call when something happens at Parker Street 51. In fact they’ve called in so many times I’ve considered blocking their number.”
“You wouldn’t do that, right?”
“Nah, I’m not allowed. Unfortunately.”
“What do they usually call about, these Dibbles?”
“Oh, the usual, you know. Noise complaints. Parties happening late at night, drug dealing, and of course the fact that the building was the home of a bunch of squatters, which they said was bringing down property prices and the value of their own home.”
“They’re probably right.”
“Oh, sure. But they don’t have to call and tell me about it every single day, do they? Besides, it’s not as if I can help it that the owner of the building has decided to let it get run down like that. We informed the town council, and they promised to look into it.”
“Looks like the Dibbles finally got what they wanted,” said Odelia. “That building will probably have to be demolished now.” She gave the other woman a quick hug. “Thanks so much, Dolores. You’re the best.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Go on, get out of here.” She then glanced down at Dooley and myself. “And you too, Humpty and Dumpty. Get lost. I don’t need a couple of cat spies on my ass all day.”
And as we walked off, I said, “She spotted us, Dooley. I didn’t think she’d spot us.”
“Why did she call us Humpty and Dumpty, Max?” asked Dooley as we left the precinct in Odelia’s wake.
“We really need to work on our stealth mode. I can’t believe she saw us.”
“So who are you, Max? Humpty or Dumpty?”
“I dunno,” I muttered, still wondering how Dolores had spotted us. I prided myself in the way I could surreptitiously spy on people, only now I’d been found out two times in a row: first by Uncle Alec, though that was entirely Dooley’s fault, of course, and once by Dolores, and in this last case I had nobody to blame but myself.
“I think I’m Humpty, Max,” said Dooley. “And you’re Dumpty.”
“Sure, Dooley,” I said. “Whatever you say, buddy.”
Chapter 17
Odelia and her two feline detectives had arrived at the place where Melanie Myers lived with her husband. She’d first tried to find her at work, at wefindyourdreamhomeforyou.com, but one of her colleagues said that Melanie had called in sick. Odelia hoped she wasn’t too sick to talk to her, though.
The house was a nice modest family home with a single garage in a neighborhood of similar family homes. It was one of those neighborhoods where not too many cars drive through, and where kids can take their bikes out and play on the street. Two little boys were doing that in front of the Myers house, and Odelia wondered if they were Melanie’s. Joshua hadn’t mentioned any kids, but then Joshua hadn’t exactly been forthcoming.
She walked up to the house and pressed her finger on the buzzer. A pleasant jangling sound echoed inside, and before long she heard footsteps and the door was opened.
“Yes?” said Melanie Myers, looking a lot plainer than she’d looked the day before. Gone was the makeup, and gone was the nice suit she’d worn—probably office attire. She was plainly dressed in jeans and a T-shirt now, and her hair was done up into a messy bun.
“Melanie Myers?” asked Odelia.
“Yes, who’s asking?”
“My name is Odelia Poole, and a friend of yours asked me to help him out with something. Joshua Curtis? I believe you know him?”
“Yes, I know Joshua,” said Melanie.
“Can I come in for a moment? It’s a delicate matter.”
Melanie considered this, then glanced down and caught sight of Max and Dooley, or Humpty and Dumpty as they now called themselves. “Oh, how cute!” Melanie exclaimed, immediately crouching down and tickling both cats under their chins. The purring sounds made it obvious they weren’t averse to her ministrations. “Are they yours?”
“Yeah. Yeah, they are. They like to follow me around, as strange as that may sound.”
“Oh, no, mine are just the same,” said Melanie. “If I’d let them they’d follow me to the office and lie next to my desk all day. Unfortunately my boss hates cats. She thinks it’s unprofessional and makes a bad impression on the clients.” She rolled expressive eyes. “As if cats could ever make a bad impression on anyone. I’d say they’re an ice breaker.”
Well, they’d certainly broken the ice now, Odelia thought as she stepped inside the house and closed the door behind her.
Two cats came walking up to her, meowing all the while. They were very small, even smaller than Dooley, and were clearly purebreds. So she left Dooley and Max to deal with them, and maybe extract some more information, and followed Melanie into the living room.
“Please take a seat,” said Melanie, indicating a beige leather couch on which crocheted covers had been placed to protect the leather against the sharp claws of her fur babies.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard,” she said, “but Franklin Harrison was found dead last night.”
Melanie was shocked by this piece of news, Odelia could tell, but she tried to hide it well. “I-I’m afraid the name doesn’t ring a bell,” she said unconvincingly.
Odelia decided to put all of her cards on the table. Joshua might not like it, but that couldn’t be helped. “Joshua told me that you and Franklin were seeing each other,” she said therefore. “So he asked me to find out if this was true. He wanted you to stop, as he was afraid of the impact the affair might have on your marriage, so…”
“Oh, God,” said Melanie, shifting in her place. “Joshua told you that?”
“He did. Yesterday morning. He asked me to follow you around and take pictures.”
“Pictures!”
“Yeah. He wanted to confront you with the affair, and make you stop.”
Melanie shook her head in utter dismay. “I don’t know how he found out. But then Joshua likes to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong,” she said with a touch of vehemence.
“The thing is the police have arrested him. They think that he killed Franklin.”
Melanie sat up straight. “Joshua killed Franklin!”
“He says he didn’t do it. He says he just wanted to talk to him, but when he arrived the house was on fire and Franklin was dead.”
“How-how did he die?” asked Melanie.
“Smoke inhalation. But before that he was drugged. So he didn’t suffer.”
Melanie lowered her gaze to the floor. “I did have an affair with Franklin,” she said in a low voice. “But it didn’t mean much.
Not to me, and not to him either. In fact he called me yesterday to break it off. Said the relationship had run its course and he didn’t think we should see each other anymore.” She shrugged. “It was clear from the beginning that this wasn’t going anywhere. It was just a fling for him—and for me, too, I guess.”
“How did you meet?”
“At a club. I don’t usually go clubbing anymore. Not since I married and had kids.”
“Oh, so those two boys outside…”
Melanie smiled. “Yeah, they’re mine. My precious little darlings.” She looked up at Odelia. “Are you married, Miss Poole?”
“Just got married, actually,” said Odelia, displaying her wedding ring.
“When you’ve been married as long as I have, you’ll understand that from time to time a woman needs to have a night out—some little time off from her marriage, especially when there are kids involved. Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband, and I adore my two rascals, but we have this thing where I take one night off every month, and so does Jason—that’s my husband. So I have a girls night, and he has a boys night—not on the same night, obviously—and it makes you forget for just one night that you’re not just a mom and a wife but also a woman, you know. I go to the spa with my girlfriends, or we hit the town, or take a weekend off and go someplace to be pampered and have fun. So last month we went clubbing, which I hadn’t done in years, and it was such a blast.”
“And you met Franklin.”
“Yeah, he’s one of those people who never stop clubbing. He hit it pretty hard that night, but I’d probably had a little too much to drink, and I was having such a good time, and so we danced a little, and talked some, and when all was said and done and he offered to share a cab, I said yes, and we ended up kissing in the backseat. And when he invited me over to his place I said yes, which probably I shouldn’t have done.” She sighed, and twisted her wedding ring. “Franklin is one of those people who’s a lot of fun to be around, you know. A real playboy, in the literal sense of the word. He’s just fun, fun, fun, and, well…” She shrugged. “I guess I needed a bit of fun just then. Jason and I have been going through a rough patch, and Franklin was my escape. I’m not proud of what I did, and I hope you won’t tell my husband, Miss Poole. He’ll be devastated.”
“I won’t tell him, but Joshua might,” said Odelia, not wanting to give the woman any illusions.
“Yeah, Joshua is a dear friend, but he’s also a meddler.”
“Is it true that you and he used to be…”
“Oh, God! Did he tell you that? No, we were never a thing. We went out on one date in college. One single date, and we shared one kiss. That’s it. The next day I met Jason and it’s just been him ever since.” She smiled a weak smile. “Still is, actually, no matter what you may think.”
“I think you should probably tell your husband about your affair,” said Odelia, “before he hears it from someone else. Or before your kids hear about it. You know how quickly gossip spreads in this town.”
“I know,” said Melanie. “Thanks for letting me know.” She glanced in the direction of Max and Dooley and her own two cats. “And thanks for bringing your babes along on a play date. They seem to have hit it off together.”
Chapter 18
While Odelia was busy talking to Melanie Myers, Dooley and I got busy interviewing her cats. Well, I say interviewing, but what happened was more of a monologue… by those cats.
“Oh, my God you guys are so scruffy,” said one cat, whose name, if I had heard her right, was Musti.
“So, so scruffy,” her friend echoed. She went by the name Susi.
“Who does your grooming?” asked Musti.
“Yeah, you guys have got the worst groomer.”
“We don’t have a groomer,” I said.
They stared at us, then at each other, then back at us. “No groomer?” asked Susi.
“Well, that explains things,” said Musti.
“We groom ourselves,” said Dooley proudly.
More shared looks of astonishment. “Self-grooming? No way.”
“Yes, way,” I confirmed. “We groom ourselves. In fact most cats I know groom themselves.”
“But… that’s just horrible,” said Susi.
“That’s terrible,” said Musti.
“Don’t tell me you guys still use your…” Susi quickly stuck out her tongue, causing her friend to shiver with sheer disgust.
“Yep, that’s how we do it,” I said. “The good old-fashioned tongue.”
“No way!” said Musti. Or maybe it was Susi. They were hard to distinguish.
“That’s so disgusting!”
“No wonder you look so scruffy.”
“So terribly scruffy.”
And at this point they seemed to feel that they’d shared the same space with two scruffy self-groomers long enough, for they quickly tripped up the stairs and out of sight. Though as they went, we could clearly hear their conversation.
“Can you believe that Melanie would allow those two disgusting creatures to enter our house, Susi?”
“Now she’ll have to sanitize the whole place, Musti.”
“Sanitize? You mean sterilize.”
Dooley turned to me. “I don’t think they like us, Max.”
“No, I think you’re right, Dooley. They don’t like us very much.”
“We’re not that dirty, though, are we, Max?”
“We’re not dirty at all, Dooley. In fact I think we’re perfectly nice and clean.”
“Now we don’t get to ask them questions.”
“Somehow I have the impression that wouldn’t have made much difference.” Musti and Susi didn’t strike me as the kind of cats we’d been able to extract a lot of crucial information from.
At least with those two out of the way we were free to take our measure of the house, and when we entered the kitchen we soon came upon a regular cornucopia of cat food. And since Musti and Susi had commented on our lack of hygiene, but hadn’t strictly forbidden us from dipping into their food supply, we decided to strengthen the inner cat and ate to our heart’s content.
When we walked out of the kitchen, we saw that Odelia’s interview was at an end, but just as we walked out, the front door opened and Melanie’s husband walked in. At least I think he was her husband, since she kissed him and called him sweetie.
“This is Miss Poole, sweetie,” said Melanie, making the necessary introductions. “She’s here to ask us about Joshua.”
“Joshua?” said the guy, who was short and sort of chunky. “What happened?”
“He’s been arrested, I’m afraid, Mr. Myers,” said Odelia.
“Arrested!”
“For murder,” Melanie supplied.
Mr. Myers seemed absolutely agog by these revelations, which made me assume that Joshua hadn’t yet been in touch to give him the news about his recent escapades. They might be best friends, but this was the kind of thing Joshua clearly didn’t feel compelled to break to his friend any time soon.
“Can I ask you a couple of questions, Mr. Myers?” asked Odelia.
Melanie didn’t seem excited by the prospect of our human talking to her husband, but complied nevertheless. “I’ll go and check on the boys, shall I?” she said, and removed herself from the scene after a quick worried glance at her husband.
“The thing is, Mr. Myers,” said Odelia, “Joshua came into my office yesterday—I’m a reporter for the Hampton Cove Gazette, by the way, but I also consult with the police and do some detective work from time to time.” She hesitated.
“He probably wanted you to follow Melanie around, is that it?” asked Mr. Myers.
“He’s clairvoyant, Max!” said Dooley.
“Yes, he did,” said Odelia, as surprised as we were.
Mr. Myers smoothed his shirt and settled down on the leather sofa. “I haven’t discussed this with my wife, but I know she was having an affair. I don’t know who with, and frankly I don’t care.” He glanced through the window, which looked
out onto the street. We could see two kids playing on their bikes, their mother now watching over them with a keen eye and chatting with one of the neighbors by the looks of it. “My wife and I have been married for fifteen years, and don’t get me wrong, we love each other very much. It’s just that, from time to time Melanie feels the need to… bust loose, shall we say? To feel young again, with no responsibilities, no mortgage and no kids to take care of. And you know what? I let her. I know it doesn’t mean anything. I know it’s just a way for her to blow off some steam before she comes home to me and the boys again. And she always does.”
“That’s very…”
“Yeah, I know it’s a little weird, maybe, but that’s just the way it is. From the moment we started dating we decided to give each other space.”
“And do you enjoy the same, um… privileges?”
“I do, as a matter of fact,” said Mr. Myers with a curt laugh, “but I don’t use them. I’ve never cheated on my wife, Miss Poole, and I don’t think I ever will. And in all the years we’ve been together I can count on the fingers of a single hand the number of times Melanie’s been unfaithful to me.” He shrugged. “So I try not to let it bother me too much.”
“So when Joshua tried to keep this a secret from you—”
“He shouldn’t have bothered, because I already knew. Joshua is a good friend, but I think I know my wife better than he does. I trust her, and apparently Joshua doesn’t, if he feels the need to ask you to follow her around.” He seemed a little annoyed by the initiative of his best friend, I thought.
“Do you think Joshua is capable of murder?”
“Joshua? A murderer? Absolutely not. He couldn’t kill a fly.”
“He seems to have feelings for Melanie,” said Odelia.
“Oh, yeah, I know he does. He loves her to bits. They briefly dated in college, you know. It didn’t mean anything.”
“It may not have meant anything to your wife, but apparently it meant a lot for your fiend, Mr. Myers,” Odelia pointed out. “And now the police seem to think it was the reason he killed three people last night.”
“Three people?”