by Nic Saint
Oh, crap. Had I just said that? Bad Max!
He grinned evilly, like Bruce the shark from that fish movie Odelia likes to watch when she’s babysitting one of her cousins.
“So you can talk to humans,” he said slowly. “I thought as much. I only arrived yesterday, but already I’ve heard the rumors this Odelia Poole person is a little… shall we say weird? And now you’ve confirmed my suspicions.”
“Well, you still can’t do anything with that information,” I challenged him. My claws were itching to get a piece of his fur, but I restrained myself. I may be big, but that doesn’t mean I’m all lean muscle like Brutus and Chase. My bulk mainly consists of, um, well, love handles. Lots and lots of love handles.
“Maybe I can’t talk to my human,” he conceded, “but I can make your life a lot more difficult. I can prevent you from snooping around and listening to conversations that aren’t intended for your spying ears.”
Horrified, I cried, “You can’t do that!”
“Oh, yes, I can,” he said, that nasty grin still firmly in place. He reared up to his full height, puffing up his chest like the nasty bully he was. “Listen up, Max. From now on the police station is off limits to you and your buddies.”
“What?! You have no right!”
“Oh, yes, I do. Chase Kingsley is the law in this town now, which, by extension, makes me the law, too. So I can do whatever I want and there’s not a thing you can do about it.”
“It doesn’t work like that! It’s not because your human is a cop that you’re also one. That’s just crazy talk!”
“I can assure you that’s exactly how it works, Max,” he grunted.
“No, it’s not. Harriet’s human is a doctor. That doesn’t make her capable of performing brain surgery, does it? And, and…” I cast around wildly. “Dooley’s human is this town’s biggest gossip. That doesn’t mean he’s a gossip, too. Oh, wait, actually it does. Dooley is a pretty big gossip. But that’s neither here nor there. You’re not a cop, Brutus. Cats simply can’t be cops!”
“Well, you can’t, obviously,” he scoffed. “You’re not trained to uphold the law. I, on the other hand, am. Chase used to be the NYPD’s biggest and baddest detective, and I learned a lot from watching him in action.”
“That’s just a load of—”
“Hey!” Brutus yelled, holding up a warning paw, claws extended. “Watch it, pal. You want me to arrest you for contempt of cop? No? Didn’t think so!”
“Contempt of cop? That’s not even a thing!”
“I’m sure it is,” he assured me, giving his nose a lick.
“Well, I’m sure it’s not. You’re simply making this up on the spot.”
I tried to sidestep the overbearing cat, but he got in my face again, and hissed, “You’re not trespassing again, Max. This is your final warning.”
“Oh? And what are you going to do about it?” I challenged him, my tail rearing up and puffing up while I arched my back menacingly.
“Don’t make me fight you, Max,” he said in a low, menacing voice. “You don’t want me to hurt you. I’m warning you.”
I backed down. What? Have you ever stared into the slitted eyes of the meanest, biggest, nastiest cat you’ve ever seen? Let me tell you, it’s scary!
“This was your final warning, Max,” he growled, and casually displayed three sets of razor-sharp claws and gave me a mock punch on the shoulder.
I gulped. Those claws looked very sharp indeed. So I decided not to get into a fight with this cat. I needed to figure out how to deal with him, but brute force wasn’t exactly my forte. That was obviously his department.
“Have it your way, Brutus,” I finally said.
“Always,” he said with a smug smile. “That’s something you will learn soon, Max. You and those other furballs that inhabit this stupid town.”
“Hampton Cove is not a stupid town!”
He merely grinned, and stalked off in the direction of the police station, presumably to find out what I’d found out.
Still shaking from the adrenaline rushing through my veins, I started heading for the Hampton Cove Gazette. Boy, did I have news for Odelia.
Chapter 4
Before going to the office, Odelia decided to pass by her dad’s practice first. She wanted to check on Gran, who’d been feeling a little under the weather lately. She passed into the waiting room. As usual, there were already half a dozen patients patiently waiting to be called into her father’s examination room. Tex Poole had been Hampton Cove’s one and only doctor for over thirty years, and was well-respected and well-liked by all.
She nodded a greeting to the small crowd, and quickly walked up to the reception desk, and was relieved to find the wizened old woman seated behind it, reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose, her tongue sticking out of her mouth as she deftly handled the phone and the appointments book.
“Gran,” she said happily. “I’m so glad to see you’re okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” asked the white-haired old lady crustily.
“Well, I heard you were feeling a little under the weather last night.”
The old lady lifted her chin. “Who told you that? That kind of information is strictly confidential. That’s between my physician and me.”
“Well, your physician is my dad,” she said. “So…”
“That doesn’t give him the right to go blabbing about my private affairs,” Gran grumbled. “I’ll have a word with that man.”
Odelia laughed. “He didn’t blab about anything, Gran. Mom told me last night you weren’t feeling well after dinner, so you went to bed early.”
“Nonsense. I’ve never felt better and don’t let anyone tell you different.”
“I’m just glad to see you’re fine.” The last thing she wanted was to get into a fight with the feisty old lady, especially in front of half a dozen townies.
“I just had an upset tummy, that’s all. Nothing to get all worked up about.”
Odelia stared at her. “You don’t think it was my dessert, do you?”
She was the one who’d made dessert last night. Even though she lived alone, she still went home for dinner with her family most nights. It didn’t make much sense to cook for herself when she was just one person. She and Mom took turns cooking, with Gran chipping in from time to time. Last night had been Mom’s turn. She’d made grilled tuna, Odelia providing dessert.
But Gran waved her hand. “Don’t even think about it. That dessert was perfectly fine. I simply love chocolate pudding. Now state your business.”
She smiled. “Just checking up on you, Gran.”
“This is a doctor’s office, young lady, and we’ve got a lot of sick people waiting, so if you’re not sick or dying, please move along. No dillydallying.”
“Sure thing, Gran,” she said with a laugh. “Have a nice day.”
“Oh, I most definitely will,” Gran said, then hollered, “Next!”
She passed into the street feeling better already. The old lady might be feisty, but she was also vulnerable at her age, and she was glad to know she was fine. Next stop was the newspaper, and she’d just walked into her own small office when Max came tripping up.
“It’s about time,” he grumbled. “I thought you’d never show up.”
“And a good day to you too, Max,” she said as she took a seat.
“Oh, boy,” said Max, hopping onto the desk. “Have I got news for you!”
This morning ritual of theirs wasn’t unusual. Max might get most of his information from other cats, whom he met on his nocturnal excursions, but he often made a quick trip around town during the daytime as well, to see if he couldn’t pick up some nice tidbits of news here or there. The police station, especially, often rewarded them both with some great stories fit to print.
She needed to vet them, of course, and run them by the editor, Dan Goory, who’d been running this paper since before Odelia was born, but he trusted her, and never pressed her for her sources, knowing she w
ouldn’t reveal them anyway. And even if she did, she knew he wouldn’t believe her.
Weird thing about her uncanny knack was that it only seemed to work on cats. She’d tried talking to dogs, but they simply stared at her dumbly, then continued licking their butts or chasing their tails as if she hadn’t spoken.
“Tell me,” she said happily as she took her notebook and sat with pencil poised while Max spilled the latest news straight from the chief of police’s mouth. But when he’d finished his tale, she still hadn’t jotted down a word, too shocked at what he’d told her. “Paulo Frey? Murdered?” she gasped.
“Yep, and found at the bottom of the Writer’s Lodge cesspit. The Medical Examiner is trying to figure out what killed him and Chief Alec is expecting his report sometime this morning. Only trouble is…”
“What?” she asked anxiously as she feverishly started taking notes. She needed to confirm all of this with the chief, but this was one hell of a story.
“I’ve been told not to go near the police station again.”
She looked up, startled. “What? Who told you?”
“Brutus,” he said bitterly. “That big brute that belongs to Chase Kingsley. He’s been throwing his weight around ever since he arrived in town. He says the police station is off-limits to me and my buddies from now on.”
She immediately recognized this for what it was: a clear and present danger to her job. If Max wasn’t allowed to sneak up to Chief Alec’s window and snap up any and all snippets of information, she was out of a very valuable news source. Not that her uncle Alec was secretive, or unwilling to share, but his niece wasn’t the first person he ran to when he had important information to share. Though he’d gotten used to her finding out anyway.
“Listen, Max,” she said earnestly. “Don’t let this cat boss you around. Tell him he’s got no business telling other cats where they can and can’t go.”
“That’s what I told him! But he threatened me with violence if I didn’t do what he said.” He sighed. “I told you. That cat’s a genuine bully.”
“This is an outrage!” she spat, jumping to her feet. “Who does he think he is, bossing others around like that?!”
“He thinks he’s the new cop in town, that’s who he thinks he is.”
“We’ll see about that,” grunted Odelia, and strode out of the office.
“Where are you going, Odelia?” asked Dan from his own office.
“The police station!” she yelled back. “I’ve got a scoop!” She quickly stuck her head into the old man’s office and grinned at him. Then she spoke the words she’d wanted to speak for a very long time. “Stop the presses, Dan. And hold the front page. I’ve got the scoop to end all scoops.”
“Oh? Whaddya got?”
Her eyes glittered with excitement. “A murder.”
“Murder in Hampton Cove!” cried the old editor, his glasses almost falling from his face as he shot up from behind his desk. “No way!”
“Yes, way,” she confirmed. “I’ll be back in a jiffy so hold that front page.”
“I sure will,” he said, a look of sheer happiness on his kindly hobbit face. The news that a murder had taken place might appall regular folk, but then reporters aren’t like regular folk, of course. To them, murder and mayhem are like music to their ears.
Odelia purposefully set foot for the police station, and thought about what Max had said about this Brutus character. It was time that Chase Kingsley taught his cat a few lessons in common courtesy. You didn’t just waltz into town and start bossing people around. That simply wasn’t done!
The police station was only half a block away from the Gazette, and it didn’t take her more than a few minutes to get there and waltz into the vestibule. Dolores gave her a little wave as she marched past the woman’s desk and through the short corridor to Chief Alec’s office.
She and the chief had developed a kind of working relationship over the years. He knew how important it was that the public be informed about the goings-on in this town, and that Odelia had a unique skill set that made her well-placed to report on anything going on in Hampton Cove. She knew stuff before anyone else did, and he helped her fill in the gaps and occasionally even enlisted her to help him on any small investigation he had running.
It also helped that he was her uncle, of course, and often sat down to dinner with them. Odelia’s mom had more or less taken him under her wing after his wife died, and he was now pretty much a fixture at the house, and enjoyed their cooking almost more than Dr. Poole himself.
So she simply barged into his office without knocking and said, “Hey, Uncle Alec. What’s all this I’m hearing about Paulo Frey being found at the bottom of a cesspit?”
Only now did she notice that there was a third person in the office, seated across from the chief. He was tall and lanky, with chiseled features and clear blue eyes. Those eyes now swiveled to her and took her in with a sharp look.
The chief had risen. “Um, Odelia, this is Chase Kingsley. Chase, this is my niece Odelia Poole. She’s a reporter with the Hampton Cove Gazette.”
Chase’s eyes were still fixed on her, and judging from the expression on his face he wasn’t happy. “How the hell did you find out about Paulo Frey?”
The chief gave a feeble smile. “Odelia has her sources, don’t you, honey?”
“I sure have,” she said, taking a seat in the other chair, her notebook poised on her lap. “So is it true that you found all of his suitcases, his laptop and all of his belongings buried down there with the body?”
Chase shook his head. “Unbelievable,” he grunted.
She snapped her head up. “What’s unbelievable?”
“The way information gets leaked!” he cried, clearly incensed.
“The press has a right to know what’s going on in this town, Chase,” she said. “So I suggest you get used to it. The people have a right to know.”
“It’s Detective Kingsley to you,” he grumbled.
“We’re all friends here,” said the chief, holding up his hands placatingly. “And Odelia only writes her stories after checking them with me.”
“That still doesn’t explain how she knows about this case,” he insisted.
“A little birdie told me, all right? Now can you or can’t you confirm that Paulo Frey’s body was found at the bottom of the Writer’s Lodge outhouse?”
“Yes, I can,” said the chief, casting a weary glance at Chase.
“Unbelievable,” huffed Chase again, shaking his head.
She turned on the man. “This is the way we do things in this town.”
“It’s certainly different from the way we handle things in the city,” he said, giving her a very stern look. “In fact I can’t even imagine any nosy reporter ever barging into the office of the NYPD commissioner and dictating terms.”
“I’m not dictating terms,” she gritted out. “I’m merely trying to get confirmation on some basic facts pertaining to this case.”
“A case you have no business sticking your nose into.”
“It is my business because I choose to make it my business.”
“Oh? Last time I checked you weren’t on the police payroll, Miss Poole.”
“Odelia is part of the family, Chase,” said Chief Alec, finally managing to get a word in edgewise. “We’re all on the same page here. One great team.”
He held up his hands. “All right, Chief. But I still think it’s highly unorthodox, and if I were you I’d reconsider the leeway you’re granting her.”
“Well, you’re not me, son,” said the chief with a smile.
“Yes, Detective Kingsley, you’re not the chief of police in this town,” said Odelia. “So please stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Perhaps she shouldn’t have said that, for the man’s eyes were shooting fire now. Blue sheets of flame. In fact they now reminded her of twin laser beams, doing their utmost to blast through her skull and incinerate her on the spot. She swallowed. She had the impression i
t wasn’t wise to be on his bad side.
Chief Alec cleared his throat noisily. “So, about Paulo Frey. I can confirm that we found his body at the bottom of the Writer’s Lodge outhouse well and that it’s been transferred to the ME’s office for an autopsy.”
“Do you think he fell down that well by accident?”
“Considering the fact that his luggage, his clothes, his laptop and all of his other stuff were also down there, I think it’s safe to say he was murdered. But like I said, it’s all up to the Medical Examiner now to know for sure.”
“Do you have any leads on the killer?”
“None yet.”
“When did he disappear again? I seem to remember sometime last year?”
“It’s been over a year,” the chief confirmed, then shook his head. “It’s going to be very hard to figure out what exactly happened.”
She thought she understood. After such a long time there probably wasn’t much left of the body. “Did you…” She swallowed. “Did you see the body?”
He nodded, a grim set to his face. “Yes, I did. We had to disassemble the outhouse and get the cesspool pumping guys in there. Took us the better part of yesterday to do that. The body was pretty decomposed when we finally found it at the bottom. Practically all that’s left is a skeleton with some remnants of skin and hair.” He sighed. “Not a pretty sight, Odelia.”
“So how do you know it’s Paulo Frey?”
“Well, we found his ID, laptop, smartphone, luggage… Hard to tell from the body, of course. But I’m pretty sure dental records will back us up.”
“And DNA.”
“Yeah, if necessary they’ll do a DNA test, I’m sure. But I think dental will provide adequate proof of identity, and much quicker, too.”
“Crap, Uncle Alec. A real murder in Hampton Cove.”
“Yeah, it’s a nasty business,” he agreed. “A very nasty business indeed.”
“You don’t get a lot of murders down here?” asked Chase.
“None,” said Odelia and Chief Alec simultaneously.
“This is a very peaceful town, Detective Kingsley,” said Odelia. “In fact I wonder what a big city cop like you is doing down here.”