by Nic Saint
She shook her flea-bitten, patchy head. “You don’t get it, do you? When are you going to stop betraying your own species, Max? When are you going to get it through that thick skull of yours that humans are not your friends?”
“Odelia isn’t like other humans. She takes care of us.”
“Odelia loves us,” said Dooley, overcoming his fear.
Clarice made a loud hissing sound, baring her teeth, and Dooley yelped and almost toppled into the pool. “Humans can’t be trusted,” she said. “They’re mean and vicious. They chop each other’s heads off!”
“You chop off the heads of mice and rats,” Harriet countered.
“That’s different. I would never hurt my own species.” Her eyes narrowed into thin slits. “Though I might be tempted to make an exception for you.”
Harriet gulped. Brutus, now that his mate was under attack, decided to step up. “Now look here, you… you cat. That is no way to talk to my girl.”
“Girl!” Clarice emitted a series of low grunts that I figured was her way of laughing. “Cats don’t have girlfriends! We don’t mate for life!”
“Well, some of us do,” Brutus said, winking at Harriet, who giggled.
“Well, then you happen to be an even bigger moron than I thought.”
Brutus puffed out his chest. “Hey. Who are you calling a moron?!”
“You,” she said. “You’ve lived with humans so long you’ve become one.”
I had the sinking feeling this conversation was getting away from me. “Look, all we want is to solve this murder,” I told her. “Is that so bad?”
“Yes, it is. By helping humans solve their murders you’re perpetuating the species. As far as I’m concerned, the more they murder each other the better. Soon there won’t be any humans left and this world will be ours again.”
“Good luck with that,” Dooley muttered.
I cleared my throat. “Be that as it may,” I said, “I still would like to know who killed Shana Kenspeckle. It would mean a great deal to me personally.”
“Why?”
“Um, because I’m a great fan of the Kenspeckles?”
“Of course you are. You’re a disgrace to the feline species, Max. You and your friends. You have sold your soul for a can of cat food and a pat on the head. It’s disgusting.” She hopped from the sun lounger and stalked off.
“Wait!” I cried. “What about a big, juicy piece of raw meat?!”
She halted in her tracks and looked back. “What about it?”
“I, um, I’ve got one that has your name on it.” No, I didn’t.
She licked her lips and I could see she was torn between her reluctance to help us out and her desire for a nice piece of raw meat. “Tell me more.”
I darted a pleading look at Brutus and he rolled his eyes. He knew just as well as me that I didn’t have any meat to offer. “Chicken wings,” he said reluctantly. “You can have one of my chicken wings.”
“Go on.”
He darted a dirty look at me. “And I’ll throw in a couple chicken necks.”
She stalked back to us. “Keep talking, fat boy.”
Brutus growled something at the back of his throat. I gave him a poke.
“Chicken liver,” he said. “Chase knows how much I like chicken liver.”
“I’m starting to like you more and more, fatso. Don’t stop.”
He was shaking his head now, giving me a death stare.
“Just think how happy Chase will be when I solve this murder,” I said.
“You solve this murder? I solve this murder,” he growled. He cut his eyes to Clarice. “Raw, blood-red steak. Straight from the best butcher in town.”
Clarice’s upper lip curled up into a feral snarl. “You’re now officially my new best friend. And where can I find all this good stuff?”
Brutus gave Clarice his address, which was actually Uncle Alec’s address, since Chase was still living with him. It was taking him some time to find a place of his own in town. Not that he minded. Chief Alec was a widower, so the men had the house to themselves and were reliving their bachelor days.
“You never told us you ate steak,” I told Brutus.
“Why would I share my steak with you, Max?” Brutus asked. “It’s not exactly as if you rolled out the welcome mat when I arrived in town.”
Now it was my turn to narrow my eyes. “That’s because you’ve been trying to take over this town from day one.”
He shrugged. “Just sharing my worldly wisdom with you local yokels.”
“Brutus has offered me some of his meat,” said Harriet. “It’s delish.”
“Of course it is,” Dooley murmured, directing a pleading look at the sky.
“So do you want to know about this murder or not?” asked Clarice.
“Yes, we do,” I said.
“I saw the murder,” said Clarice. “I saw the whole thing.”
“And?” Harriet asked excitedly. “Who did it?”
“No idea. The killer was covered in a long black robe.”
“Like Severus Snape?” asked Dooley, who was a big Harry Potter fan.
Clarice blinked. “I have no idea who that is. All I know is that I couldn’t see the killer’s face, as he or she was wearing a black mask of some kind.”
“Probably so they wouldn’t get blood all over them,” said Brutus. When we stared at him, he added, “What? Cutting off a head is a bloody business.”
I didn’t want to know how he knew. He, Uncle Alec and Chase probably watched too many horror movies. Or football games. They can get bloody.
“It was pretty gruesome,” Clarice said, which surprised me. A lot.
"Oh, I can imagine," said Harriet commiseratingly. "Just tell us everything, Clarice. You'll feel so much better. It'll be like therapy."
Clarice gave Harriet her best glare, but the prospect of raw meat was still more enticing than the inconvenience of having to put up with Harriet. “The killer first held some kind of rag to Shana and her husband’s faces, and then…” She closed her eyes, reliving the horror. “Then the sick bastard chopped off her head with a meat cleaver. I couldn’t watch. The worst part? That stupid dog just lay there. Instead of defending his master, he simply took it all in. Just goes to show dogs are the stupidest creatures on the planet.”
We all stared at Kane, who looked back at us, his tongue lolling. The moment he caught sight of five cats lounging by the pool, he blew a gasket. He jumped from Shayonne’s arms and came running straight at us.
Arf, arf, arf.
“Run!” I yelled.
Arf, arf, arf.
I set off in the direction of the garden, hoping to find a tree high enough to escape this hairy monster. But instead of coming after me, he produced the sweetest sound in the world: the sound of a dog squealing in pain. When I looked back, I saw Kane racing toward the house, his tail between his legs.
“What happened?” I asked.
In response, Clarice showed me her paw. There was blood on her claws.
“Let’s just say he won’t bother us again,” she said with a nasty grin.
Chapter 6
Odelia goggled at Shayonne. “Shana was sleeping with your husband?”
Shayonne nodded. She’d been momentarily distracted when Kane first jumped from her arms to chase Max and his friends, then raced into the house after getting his nose clawed by the ugliest cat Odelia had ever seen.
“Shana always had a craving for male attention. Even as a teen she tried to seduce every man she met. The fact that she was married to one of the greatest men alive apparently wasn’t enough for her. She had to seduce my man, too. And Dion is weak, so weak he fell for her fatal charm.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “That must have been a great shock.”
“It was,” said Shayonne. She blinked. “Can we do this again?”
“Come again?”
“No, do this again. The big reveal. I feel I can do better.”
Only now did Odelia notice the came
raman filming them.
“Um, what’s going on?” she asked, a little perplexed.
Shayonne held up a finger while she closed her eyes. “Just a second. I wanna get this right.” When she opened her eyes again, Odelia saw there were tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. “Shana craved men,” she said in a dramatic voice. “She was a natural born seductress who had to devour every male she met. The fact that she was married to one of the greatest singers of all time didn’t stop her from hitting on my man. And Dion fell for it.”
“Great take,” said the cameraman, chewing gum. He was a chunky guy with a pasty face, patches of red hair peeping from under his Lakers cap.
“I still feel like I’m missing something,” said Shayonne. “Oh, wait. I think I’ve got it.” Once again, she pressed tears from her eyes, and said in a deep, sultry voice, “Dion is a weak, deeply flawed individual. And he fell for my sister.”
“Love it,” said the cameraman. “That’s a keeper.”
“Thanks,” said Shayonne, wiping away her tears.
“How-how do you do that?” asked Odelia, fascinated.
“It’s a trick,” said Shayonne. “I think of dead puppies. Works every time.”
“Dead puppies. Huh. Interesting.”
“Yoo-hoo! Alejandro! Over here!”
She watched as a curly-haired man with olive skin walked up. He was the spitting image of Antonio Banderas, and oozed charm and male charisma.
“This is the director of the show,” Shayonne said. “Alejandro Salanova.” Odelia expected Shayonne to introduce her, but apparently she wasn’t important enough. “Have you filmed the body?” she asked, sounding more like a producer than a mourning sister.
“Not yet,” said Alejandro. “The cops won’t let us. They say it’s a crime scene and we’re not allowed inside until they remove the body.”
“Crap,” said Shayonne, then turned to Odelia. “You’re a cop, right? Can’t you arrange for Alejandro and his crew to shoot the body and the head?”
“I, um…” Odelia was lost for words. She’d known the Kenspeckles had a show to run, but she’d figured this tragedy would put a stop to all of that. “Aren’t you going to cancel the show now that your sister… is dead?”
Shayonne’s eyebrows rose fractionally. “Cancel the show? Honey, this is the best thing that could have happened to us.”
“We’ll shoot right up in the ratings,” said Alejandro. He stuck up his index finger for emphasis. “Numero uno, baby!”
“We’ve been dropping in the ratings,” Shayonne explained. “It’s time to reclaim the top spot again, and this whole murder thing just might do it.”
She stared at the woman, wondering if she was a human or a robot.
Shayonne turned away. “Just muscle your way in there. Don’t take no for an answer. Get a few good shots of the body and the head before it’s too late.”
And with these words she stalked off to give further instructions to Alejandro and his crew. Odelia watched them walk into the house and realized her jaw was still on the floor. She hitched it up and walked over to the loungers to join Max and the cats. She plunked down, shaking her head.
“The killer was wearing some kind of long black robe,” said Max.
“Uh-huh,” she said, watching as the cameraman started filming inside the dining room, ignoring the protestations of several police officers nearby.
“Clarice saw the whole thing. She was right there when it happened.”
This time Max caught her attention. “She witnessed the murder?”
“Yep. She told us the whole story in exchange for a juicy steak. Why does Brutus get to eat steak and we don’t, Odelia? I like steak. We all do.”
“Meat is expensive, buddy. A reporter’s salary will only get you so far.”
He shook his head. “Of course. I knew that. I’m sorry. It’s just that…” He waved a paw. “That Brutus is driving me crazy. With his chicken wings and his chicken necks and his… his chicken liver.”
“Just like his master,” Odelia said. She watched as Chase and Alejandro went toe to toe, the veins in Chase’s neck pulsating. She sighed. “Though he doesn’t have a chicken neck.” She watched as he gestured with his muscular arms, threatening to wring the director’s neck. “Or chicken wings.”
This wasn’t going to end well, she thought, but then Shayonne stepped in, employing her secret weapon. Tears flowed from the reality star’s eyes as she implored Chase to allow Alejandro to shoot his ‘home movie’ so the family could forever cherish Shana’s memory. Dead puppies again. She could see Chase’s resolve weaken under the onslaught. Oh, man. This was brutal.
“Weird,” said Max, commenting on the scene.
“So weird,” she agreed. “So what did Clarice say?”
And as Max filled her in, she wondered how she was going to convey this information to Chase. They were now looking for a blood-soaked black robe and a meat cleaver. Only she couldn’t tell him. She stroked Max’s fur and he purred softly. “You’re getting raw meat tonight, buddy. You did good.”
“But I thought you said it was too expensive.”
“This is a special occasion. You just helped solve a murder.”
“Thanks, Odelia,” he murmured.
“You’re welcome.” They watched as Chase caved. Shalonda Kenspeckle had shown up. She was the spitting image of Shayonne, only her long, dark hair sported red highlights. She was rocking a clingy white top and a miniskirt. Very stylish. Now both sisters were crying their eyes out. There’s only so much a man can bear, and soon the cameraman was hoisting the camera onto his shoulder with a triumphant flourish and filming resumed.
Chase came stumbling out of the house, looking sandbagged.
“What the hell just happened?” he asked as he took a seat next to Odelia.
“Welcome to reality TV, Detective,” she said. “Try to keep up.”
Chapter 7
While Odelia and Chase tried to take control of the crime scene, Dooley, Harriet, Brutus and I were busy trying to figure out what else we could do to solve this murder case. Clarice had pulled one of her disappearing acts again and had vanished like a puff of smoke. Typical. One minute she was there, the next she was gone. And without even bothering to say goodbye.
“Are you really going to share your meat with her?” Harriet asked.
“Sure,” said Brutus. “At least until I solve this murder. The moment I catch the killer she can kiss her meat goodbye.” I noticed the big bully sounded a lot more macho now that Clarice wasn’t there to keep him in line.
“Why would Clarice kiss her meat goodbye?” asked Dooley. “Wouldn’t she just eat it?”
“It’s an expression,” I told him.
“It doesn’t make any sense. Why kiss your meat goodbye?”
“Oh, Dooley,” said Harriet with a sigh.
“Yes?” he asked, looking up.
“Just go away.”
“Go away? Go where?”
“Anywhere. Just stop asking stupid questions.”
I patted my friend on the back. “It’s all right, Dooley. You know what they say. There are no stupid questions. Only stupid answers.”
“I didn’t know they said that.”
“Well, now you do.”
“We should split up,” Brutus said. “You and Dooley go this way. Harriet and I will go that way.” He was vaguely gesturing toward the house.
“Why?” asked Dooley, remembering there are no stupid questions.
“I’ve got a better chance cracking this case than you two losers. Isn’t that right, sugar pie?”
The sugar pie bit wasn’t directed at either me or Dooley. It was meant for Harriet, who fluttered her eyelashes. “Of course I agree, honey bunch. With your intellect and my charm I’m sure we’ll crack this case right open.”
I eyed Brutus suspiciously. “You’ve got a theory, haven’t you?”
“You bet your whiskers I do. I’m surprised you don’t. It’s staring you right in the face.”
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Dooley looked around. “What’s staring us in the face?”
“Oh, Dooley,” said Harriet, rolling her eyes.
“Look, whatever you think you know, I’m Odelia’s cat, so I’m the one who helps her solve the murder. So you better tell me what you know.”
Brutus grinned. “Not this time, Maxie baby. This time we’re doing things different.” He tapped his chest, like a miniature King Kong. “I’m going to solve this case. And I’m going to make sure Odelia knows it.”
I shook my head. “You can’t do that. That’s not fair.”
Harriet shrugged. “I think it’s time you learned to share, Max. You’ve had Odelia all to yourself for far too long. It’s time to share her with Brutus.”
“But-but-but,” I sputtered. I caught Brutus’s eye and I could tell he was enjoying himself. For the first time since he arrived in town he had me licked.
“That’s not very nice of you,” said Dooley. “Odelia is Max’s human.”
Harriet walked up to him. “Odelia is our human, Dooley. She cares about all of us. You. Me. Max. And now Brutus. We’re one big happy family.”
She sold it so well I almost bought it. But Odelia knew all about Brutus’s habit of bossing us around. She’d never accept him into our home if I didn’t want to. So maybe I didn’t have to worry. Even if he solved the murder first, Odelia would still love me the most. Right?
I watched Brutus and Harriet stalk off. “You’re right, Dooley,” I said.
“I am?” he asked, surprised.
“It’s not very nice of Harriet to take Brutus’s side like that.”
“So she’s not our friend anymore?”
“She is, but she’s strayed from the path of true friendship.” I shook my head. “Somehow we’re going to have to show her the error of her ways.”
“I have no idea what you just said, but I think you’re probably right.”
“Let’s just do what we do best and find ourselves a killer.”
“All right,” he said with a yawn. “But maybe we’ll take a nap first?”
“No napping,” I said decidedly. “First we catch the killer, then we nap.”
Dooley sighed. “Oh, all right. So where do we start?”