Purrfect Crime

by Nic Saint

  “So you did order them!” Mom yelled, ducking a few particularly pesky bees.

  “Of course I did! I need bee therapy! It’s going to completely rejuvenate me! I’m going to look decades younger!”

  “You’re crazy!” Uncle Alec screamed, now running around the yard, chased by a horde of bees.

  “Let them sting your butt!” Gran yelled. “It’ll clear that cellulite of yours right up!”

  And then, as if the bees had gotten the message, the cage completely collapsed, and the entire swarm zoomed up into the air, then swept down upon the Pooles.

  “Nice, Mom!” Uncle Alec yelled. “I’ve been stung!”

  “That’s great! You needed it!”

  Odelia wasn’t sure if she needed it or not, but she was pretty sure she didn’t want it, so when a dozen bees attacked her, happy to have found a target, she screamed and ducked for cover. It took another half hour for the fire department to arrive, and make short shrift of Gran’s bee menace. Gran wasn’t happy that her investment was being rounded up and taken away by the burly men in red, but the rest of the family definitely was. By the time the last bee had been taken into custody, it was late.

  “So much for our date,” Odelia told Chase as she watched the firemen inspect the hive.

  “I’ll take a rain check,” said Chase, scratching at a particularly nasty-looking bee sting.

  “I’m sorry about this, Chase. My family is crazy.”

  “That’s okay,” he said with a grin. “I’m not all that compos myself.”

  He placed an arm around her shoulder and she leaned her head against his chest. Between the murder they had to solve and Max’s diet shenanigans and her grandmother’s Donna obsession, she was glad at least one person in her universe still had his feet on solid ground. And as she watched a red-faced Dad furiously cut up his credit cards, Gran looking on sadly, she had to laugh.

  “That’s the spirit,” Chase murmured. “When you can’t beat the crazies, join them.” And he placed a tender kiss on her lips.

  “Ouch,” she said, pulling back. “Bee sting.” Right on her bottom lip of all places. Gah.

  “Didn’t you hear your grandmother? Your lip will look decades younger in the morning.”

  “Oh, to hell with it,” she muttered, and kissed him right back.

  Chapter 22

  That night, I simply couldn’t hold it anymore. If I ate one more chunk of that diet crap I was going to scream. My stomach was grumbling and I was so hungry I thought I was going to die. The worst thing was that Odelia had put me on the scale that evening after she came home from dinner and I’d actually gained weight! How was that even possible?!

  Of course she had her explanation ready. According to her it was because of that meatball I’d scarfed down, and that meatloaf I’d polished off at Mrs. Cranberry’s house. But I called bullshit on both accounts. How could a little bit of meat result in me gaining weight while I’d been starving all the rest of the day?

  I roamed around the house, feeling restless and annoyed, and that’s when I discovered that Odelia had left the kitchen window open! So I climbed up onto the sink, careful not to put my paw in the garbage disposal unit, pushed the window open wider, and gracefully hopped down onto the sill and then to the plastic container right underneath it. Odelia uses it to collect the garbage bags and it’s the perfect landing place for a big-boned cat like me. I know people are always saying how a cat always lands on its feet. Well, if you’re genetically predisposed to be on the more voluminous side, like me, it can be hard to accomplish that feat, especially when jumping down from higher surfaces.

  I landed on the container with a heavy thump, and waited for a moment, making sure I hadn’t woken up Odelia. Then I jumped down to the patio and padded off, hoping Dooley still had some tasty morsels he wouldn’t mind sharing with his best friend.

  Unfortunately, when I finally had slipped into the house next door, all the bowls were empty: Dooley’s bowl, Harriet’s bowl, and even Brutus’s bowl! How was that even possible?

  I quickly made my way up the stairs, careful not to wake up anyone, and nudged open the door to Marge and Doctor Tex’s room. Sure enough, Brutus was asleep on Tex’s side of the bed and Harriet on Marge’s side. So I tiptoed into Gran’s bedroom, which was right down the hall, and found Dooley asleep at the foot of Gran’s bed.

  “Psssst!” I said, giving Dooley a slight nudge.

  “Hrrrmmbl…” he said in response, and just kept on sleeping.

  “Dooley! Wake up!”

  The beige cat opened one eye and then closed it again. “Hmmmmmm.”

  So I hopped up onto the bed—conveniently a lot lower than Odelia’s—and kicked him off. I watched in wonder to see if he would magically right himself in midair and hit the floor on all fours. Unfortunately for Dooley he hit the floor with his head instead. It made a nice thunking sound as it did. Hollow. Just as I’d expected.

  “What’s going on?” Dooley asked as he rubbed the point of impact.

  “I’m going foraging,” I told him. “And I need my wingcat.”

  He stared at me. “I can’t, Max. My head hurts for some reason.”

  “Your head is fine. Let’s go.”

  He rubbed the spot for a few beats more, obviously wondering what had happened, then decided to follow me out. “I was dreaming of Harriet,” he said. “She told me to use my dildo to reach her G-spot so I did, but then Brutus showed up and burned me with his V-steamer.”

  “You shouldn’t read that kind of stuff before bed, Dooley. You should do like me and dream of steaks and prime ribs and sausages and meatballs and beef tenderloin and…” Well, you get the picture.

  We left the house and set out for the great outdoors. I had no idea where we were going but I knew it had to be someplace where we would find food. Lots of food. Any food.

  “Where are we going, Max?” asked Dooley after a while.

  “Where they have food,” I told him.

  “And where is that?”

  I thought hard, which was difficult as I was so hungry my mental capacity had become impaired. Honestly, how Odelia expected me to catch killers on an empty stomach was beyond me. And then I got it. “Why don’t we go check out Donna Bruce’s place?”

  “Do you think they’ll have food there?”

  “Well, they have those two mutts. And where there are mutts, there is always food.”

  That’s one of those immutable facts of life, and one you would do well to remember. I know I do. Even at my most feeble, like now, when my survival instincts were kicking in, I still remembered that humans love dogs—even more than they love cats—and always make sure they’re well fed. What most humans don’t know is that cats can also eat dog food, especially when they’re on the verge of dying of starvation, like I was now.

  “I don’t know, Max,” said Dooley. “Those dogs weren’t very nice to us the last time.”

  “They’ll be fast asleep by now,” I promised him. “We’ll just sneak in and out. They won’t even know we were there.”

  Dooley sighed. “Good thing you’re my best friend, Max. I would never do this for Brutus.”

  “Do what?”

  “Risk life and limb to get you some dog biscuits.”

  I gave him a warm smile. “I know, Dooley. And I’m glad you’re my friend.”

  “I would do it for Harriet,” he continued musingly. “But only if she asked me. Once upon a time I would have done it without asking, but those days are definitely over.”

  “Wow. Love doesn’t live there anymore, huh?”

  “Where?” he asked, puzzled.

  “It’s an expression. It means you’ve stopped loving Harriet.”

  “I never loved Harriet,” he said annoyedly. “I liked Harriet a lot. There’s a difference.”

  “Of course there is.”

  We were trotting along the main road, cars passing us by, making great time, and I was actually starting to perk up a little. The prospect of digging into Rex and Rollo�
��s bowls and fishing out the best bits almost made me feel giddy. A woman like Donna, rich beyond compare, probably spent a fortune on dog food, reserving only the best and most expensive stuff for her beloved mutts. I just hoped they hadn’t eaten all of it.

  “Do you think Harriet will ever break up with Brutus?” asked Dooley.

  “Why? I thought you only ‘liked’ her?”

  “I do. That’s why I feel it’s my duty to look out for her. And I don’t think Brutus is right for her, Max. I really don’t.”

  “I think he is. Those two deserve each other,” I said. And if I sounded bitter that’s because I was. Harriet was trying to steal my thunder. Presenting herself as the prime sleuth in the Poole household. Well, I wasn’t having it. There was only one prime sleuth and that was me. At least when I was properly fed and my brain was working at full capacity.

  “Brutus has changed,” Dooley admitted, still harping on the same theme. “He’s become more sedate. Less of a bully.”

  “I told you. He’s henpecked now. Domesticated. He won’t give us any more trouble.”

  “Do you really believe that, Max?”

  “Yes, I do.” No, I didn’t. Bullies like Brutus never really change. Though we had reached some kind of understanding lately. A détente, like the US and the USSR had in Cold War days.

  “Tell me something, Max.”

  I grunted, hoping he’d finally change the subject. All this talk of Harriet and Brutus was getting on my nerves. “What?”

  “When Harriet kissed you, what did it feel like?”

  “Wet.”

  “Did you feel butterflies fluttering around in your tummy? A choir of angels singing in the sky? The scent of blossoms filling your nostrils? A feeling that all was well with the world?”

  “I felt an urge to slap her, if that’s what you mean.”

  He gave me a dark scowl. Obviously that wasn’t the answer he’d been looking for.

  Lucky for me we’d finally reached the Donna Bruce place. All was dark, which was a good sign. I just hoped Rex and Rollo would prove as dumb as they looked and wouldn’t chase two innocent cats trying to steal their food after hours. We approached with stealth and bated breath, and walked around the back, just like that morning. The pool area was deserted, and there was no sign of the two hyped-up poodles.

  “Looks promising,” I whispered.

  “Why are you whispering?” Dooley whispered back.

  Some questions are just too dumb to dignify with a response so I didn’t respond. Instead, I padded up to the back door but found it locked. Obviously. And thus the tedious task of finding an access point began. I finally found a ground floor window that was ajar and attempted to get in that way. Unfortunately, because of my big bones, I didn’t fit. So I told Dooley to give it a try. It was a tight fit but he managed. Once he was inside, he whispered, “What do I do now?”

  “Now you go in search of food and bring it to me,” I instructed my feeble-minded friend.

  He gave me two claws up and disappeared from sight. I waited patiently for his return, all the while trying to ignore my rumbling stomach. I’d never known hunger before, and now I understood what all the hungry animals in the world must experience on a daily basis. It wasn’t a lot of fun.

  And I’d just wandered off in the direction of the pool, when I caught movement inside the house. I walked up to the glass doors and peeked inside. One of the many advantages us felines have over humans is that we can see in the dark. And what I saw in the dark was… Donna Bruce!

  I staggered back in shock and horror. What the... After gathering my courage, I approached the window once more. And sure enough, Donna Bruce was walking around inside, dressed in a white nightgown, carrying some kind of smoking contraption in her hands and flitting to and fro as she waved the smoky thing along the walls, moved it past the furniture, and generally seemed to be performing some kind of strange ritual.

  I’d never seen a dead person walking around before, so I had my face glued to the glass all the while. Now that I was over my first reaction of fear, the phenomenon was kinda fascinating. So this was what a ghost looked like, huh? Cool!

  Then she disappeared from sight and the show was over.

  Lost in thought, I moved back to where I’d left a Dooley eager to find food for me. What I found was a Dooley scared stiff.

  “I saw a ghost!” he cried.

  “Me too. Where’s my food?”

  “I saw the ghost of Donna Bruce!”

  “I know. So where’s my food?”

  “She’s dead and she’s still walking around!”

  “My food, Dooley!”

  He stared at me, not comprehending. Then he got it. “Oh, there is no food. I think they moved the dogs. There’s no sign of Rex and Rollo. But I saw the ghost of Donna Bruce!”

  Crap. I didn’t know much about ghosts, but what I did know was that they didn’t eat. So we’d come all this way for nothing? Crappity crap! But then it dawned on me. If I told Odelia we’d seen the ghost of Donna Bruce she might be so happy she gave me some Cat Snax!

  And as Dooley and I began the long trek back to home and hearth, that thought was the only thing that kept me going. That and the notion that we’d finally bested Harriet at the sleuthing thing. Cause if that really was Donna’s ghost, she’d be able to tell us who killed her, wouldn’t she? Of course she would. Case closed! Cat Snax here I come!

  Chapter 23

  Odelia woke up from the scuffle of paws and the clicking of claws against the side of the bed. There were hushed voices and she knew what was going on. Max was trying to jump up on the bed, proving he wasn’t too fat, and Dooley was giving him a boost but failing to apply sufficient thrust to propel the overweight cat up and away.

  She rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. It was still dark out and she so did not want to get up. After the bee incident there had been a lot of shouting and recriminations being hurled about, and it had taken forever to calm down all parties and clear the house and garden of the last straggling bees. Now all she wanted to do was sleep.

  “Pssst! Odelia!”

  “Just lemme sleeeeep,” she murmured.

  “Push harder, Dooley!”

  “I’m pushing as hard as I can, Max!”

  “Odelia! We’ve got news for you!”

  “Tell me in the morning.”

  “This can’t wait! We saw a ghost!”

  “Max, I’m getting squished here.”

  “That’s not possible. You’re just not pushing hard enough.”

  “You’re too heavy!”

  “No, I’m not. You’re just being lazy is all.”

  There was the sound of a heavy object dropping to the floor and Dooley squealing in pain. Odelia sat up with a jerk. “Will you two cut it out already? I’m trying to get some sleep here.”

  “Max sat on me!”

  “I did not! You dropped me!”

  With a loud groan of exasperation she switched on the light and peered over the edge of the bed. Max was sitting on top of Dooley’s face and Dooley did not seem happy about it.

  “Max. Get off Dooley. Dooley, you should know better than to try and lift Max.”

  “I know,” Dooley said once Max had shifted his butt. “But he insists it’s what friends do.”

  “If you were really my friend you’d simply do as I tell you and give me a boost,” Max grumbled.

  “What’s all this about a ghost?” Odelia muttered, supporting her head on her hand, her eyes drooping closed again.

  “We saw the ghost of Donna Bruce. She was haunting her own house. Can I get a snack now?” asked Max.

  Odelia’s eyes flashed open. “What were you two doing at Donna’s house?”

  “We were… investigating,” Max said.

  “And also looking for food,” Dooley added, earning him a scowl from Max.

  “And then you saw Donna’s ghost,” Odelia said skeptically.

  “Yes, we did,” Dooley said. “I saw her first, as I was inside the hou
se looking for Rex and Rollo’s bowls. Max was waiting outside cause he couldn’t fit through the window.”

  “Too much information, Dooley,” Max hissed.

  “No, that’s fine,” said Odelia. She knew Dooley would never lie to her, which meant they really had seen something. She very much doubted it would be a ghost, since ghosts didn’t exist, but there must have been someone lurking about. “What did she look like, this ghost?”

  “She looked exactly like Donna,” said Dooley.

  “Spitting image,” Max agreed.

  “And what does Donna look like?”

  Dooley thought for a moment. “Well, she’s a woman, for one thing.”

  “Long hair. Long white dress,” Max added.

  “She was sort of floating around. Barefoot.”

  “And she was carrying some kind of smoky thing, doing some kind of ritual.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” said Dooley enthusiastically. “There was an awful lot of smoke.”

  Odelia frowned. What little she knew about ghosts was that they wore whatever they died in, and since Donna had died in the nude, with only a towel to protect her modesty, this ghostly apparition most probably was not Donna. Still, it was obvious Max and Dooley had seen someone poking around Donna’s house in the middle of the night, so…

  She picked up her phone from the nightstand and dialed Chase’s number. After a few rings a groggy voice muttered, “’lo?”

  “Hey, Chase. Odelia. We have to check out Donna’s place. Someone’s prowling around.”

  There was a momentary silence, then, “You’re at Donna’s house?”

  “No, I’m in bed right now.”

  “So… how do you know there’s a prowler on the loose?”

  “Women’s—”

  “Intuition. I get the drill. Meet me at the house. I’ll be there in five.”

  She bit her lip. She should probably have thought this through a little more. Now Chase would think she was psychic. Unless there was no one out there, in which case he’d think she was nuts.

  “Can we come?” asked Max.

  “No, you can’t,” she said. “You’re still grounded, mister.”