by Nic Saint
“It’s not working, Max,” he lamented.
“Just keep on trying. You have to give it some time.”
“But I’m trying very hard.”
“Creating stuff with your mind is just like with all other stuff, Dooley,” I told him sternly. “It takes a lot of practice.”
“Do you think so?”
“Sure! Do you think Beyoncé popped out of the womb and sang like a nightingale? Of course not! Or do you think Garfield could eat all of that lasagna straight out of the gate? The cat had to train his stomach! Took years!”
“Yes, I see,” he said, nodding seriously. “So if I keep on trying it’ll happen, right?”
“It will happen, Dooley,” I assured him. “You just keep on visualizing chicken wings and they will come flying. At first maybe you’ll just get a few feathers, then maybe a bone, but eventually the chicken wings will come your way and you’ll be able to feast on them to your heart’s content.”
“All right,” he finally said, fully convinced now. “Like you said, it all takes practice. So I’ll just practice very hard from now on. Practice practice practice. I’ll be thinking about chicken wings morning, noon and night and they will come.”
“That’s the spirit,” I said, glad he’d finally stopped moaning about his imminent death. So what if chicken wings would dominate our conversations from now on? It was way better than talk about dying, right?
We hopped up on a bench some smart town planners had placed along the boardwalk and gazed out across the ocean. That’s the beauty of a town like Hampton Cove. When being cooped inside your home gets too much for you, you take a stroll along the beach and sniff up some of that refreshing ocean breeze. You have to ignore the thousands of tourists that occupy the beach, of course, sizzling in the sun. It’s a custom I’ve never gotten my head around. Who wants to voluntarily go lie on the sand to be baked alive? I just don’t get it. Good thing us cats are way smarter than that. You’ll never find us slathering ourselves in oil to be broiled or sautéed.
Humans. They’re nuts. But what are you gonna do?
And we sat there watching men building castles out of sand, women jumping over waves, kids filling buckets and then pouring them out again and other humans engaging in other equally pointless activities when suddenly there was some kind of altercation not far from where we sat.
“Hey,” Dooley said, giving me a nudge. “Isn’t that Grandma Poole?”
Grandma Poole’s name isn’t actually Poole but Muffin. Vesta Muffin. But for convenience’s sake everyone calls her Grandma Poole. Sounds a lot better than Grandma Muffin. I glanced over to where Dooley was pointing. An elderly woman and an elderly man were lying on a beach towel, hugging and kissing. And from what I could see, there was some nekkid involved.
“Are you sure? I don’t think Gran would ever—oh, heck, you’re right. It’s Gran, all right.”
“Of course it’s Gran. Do you really think I wouldn’t recognize my own human? But what is she doing, Max?”
“Um…” Now this was going to be awkward. “Remember when Basic Instinct was on television the other night? And Odelia switched it off because there were parts that she felt uncomfortable to let us watch?”
“Oh, yes. That was way weird, huh? Some woman in some bed with some man and then suddenly there was a knife and then the woman had no clothes on?”
“Yes, that was way weird. Well, the same thing is happening with Grandma Poole right now. So I think we better not watch, Dooley.”
“You think watching it will be bad for us, Max?”
“It might be bad for our sense of taste,” I said.
We weren’t the only ones who’d noticed the frolicking old folks. Some parents close to the couple were averting their children’s eyes, while one guy was brazenly filming everything with his smartphone. Then a few irate parents approached the nearest lifeguard, who got on the phone.
“Uh-oh,” I said. “Looks like Gran’s in trouble.”
“You mean Odelia will be cross with her?”
“I think everyone will be cross with her.” Not that she’d mind. Gran doesn’t care. She does whatever she wants and listens to no one. She’s a free spirit who gets more and more out of control with each passing year. At least that’s what Odelia’s mom Marge always says. I don’t know if it’s true. Seems to me that when you’re as old as Gran, most people give you a free pass. But not today. As we watched, a police vehicle trundled up.
“Are the police going to arrest Gran?” Dooley asked.
“Looks like it. Though I’m sure that once they realize she’s the Chief’s mother, they might reconsider.”
“Why is that?”
“Because if they’re like most people, they like to hang on to their jobs.”
“You mean Uncle Alec will fire them if they arrest Gran?”
“Maybe not fire them outright, but he’ll definitely reprimand them.”
“What’s reprimand?”
“What you get when what you do isn’t what others think you should do.”
“You mean like when Brutus and Harriet got together and I didn’t like it?”
“Exactly like that.”
“I should have reprimanded Brutus.”
“He would have beaten you.”
“I can never win, can I?”
“Nope. That’s why we snitch on Brutus so Odelia can reprimand him.”
We watched as the officers approached Gran and her gentleman friend. Gran was talking very loudly, as if offended that anyone would be offended. Her friend just sat there, looking like the Sphinx of Giza. Yes, I watch National Geographic. And the Discovery Channel.
“Looks like they’re reprimanding Gran,” Dooley said. “And she’s reprimanding them.”
“And here’s Chief Alec to reprimand them all,” I said.
The Chief and Odelia had driven up in the Chief’s squad car and parked just next to our bench. He quickly descended the few steps to the beach and trudged through the powdery sand, looking none too happy.
Odelia joined us on the bench.
“So what happened?” she asked.
“Well, it was just like in Basic Instinct,” Dooley said. “But without the knife. And when Max told me to look away, I did,” he quickly added.
Odelia laughed. “Good for you. Watching that could have scarred you for life.”
Dooley’s eyes went wide. “You think so?”
“Didn’t I tell you? She’s a doctor,” I said. “She knows.”
Dooley gulped. “Good thing I looked away when I did. My health isn’t what it used to be and I don’t think I should take any chances right now.”
“I’m not a doctor, Max,” Odelia said.
“No, but your dad is, and that kind of thing runs in the family,” I said, desperately winking at her in the hope she would catch my drift.
She arched an eyebrow. “Oh, I see what you mean. Because I said Dooley is in perfect health, right?”
“Right!” I said, nodding.
“What’s wrong with your eye, Max?” Dooley asked worriedly.
“Oh, just a twitch,” I said. “I get it from time to time.”
“You shouldn’t have watched Gran and that old man,” he scolded me. “Now see what you’ve done. Your eye will never be the same.”
Odelia leaned in and took a look at my eye. “Mh,” she said with a faux-serious look on her face. “I think I’ll be able to save it, Max.”
Dooley sighed with admiration. “I’m so glad you’re a doctor, Odelia. What would Max do without you? Or me, for that matter? I thought I was dying, and you saved me. And you, of course, Max. You’re the best friend.”
“Thanks, Dooley. I love you, too,” I said.
“And thanks to Max I’m going to get all the chicken I want,” Dooley continued.
“Oh? Is that a fact?” Odelia asked, her lips twitching into a smile.
“Max explained to me how the power of the mind can accomplish anything. So I’ve been thinking about chicken
wings nonstop, and soon they’re going to start materializing. I’ll have more chicken wings I’ll know what to do with!”
“Just be careful you don’t start thinking about Gran and that old man,” Odelia teased. “Or else that’s what you’ll get instead of chicken.”
Dooley’s lips formed in a perfect O. “Oh. My. God! And now Gran and that old man are all I can think of! What is this witchcraft?!”
“Just relax, Dooley,” Odelia said. “I was just teasing you. Your mind may be strong, but it’s not that strong. But I think you’ll find that if you just ask Gran for a piece of chicken, she’ll be happy to give it to you.”
“Unless she’s in jail,” I said, gesturing at Chief Alec going toe to toe with his mother.
“She’s not going to jail,” Odelia assured us. “She’s just going to get a slap on the wrist.”
“And a reprimand,” Dooley added.
Odelia laughed. “I see you’ve been adding new words to your vocabulary. Well done, Dooley.”
“Max taught me. He’s been teaching me a lot.”
Odelia cut a critical eye at me. “So I see. Maybe too much, huh, Max?”
I shrugged. “Just trying to help.”
“Yeah, right,” she said with a smirk.
Gran got dressed, and so did the elderly gentleman she was having relations with. All around, people were watching, and the man with the smartphone was still filming. This whole thing would probably be on the Internet tonight.
“Show’s over, folks!” the Chief was shouting, holding up his hands. “Go back to your business. And you, you better stop filming, buddy,” he told the man.
An older couple had posted themselves next to us. They were shaking their heads in disapproval. “The exact same thing happened last night at the hotel,” the woman told Odelia apropos of nothing.
“These two were at the hotel?” Odelia asked.
“No, not these two. Another couple. We’re staying at the Hampton Springs Hotel,” the woman explained. “And down by the pool Cybil Truscott was behaving very inappropriately with the pool boy.” She pursed her lips disapprovingly. “They were… fornicating. On the pool beds! Right under our noses! I couldn’t sleep so I caught the whole thing. An absolute disgrace!”
“We complained to management, of course,” said her husband.
“Not that they’ll do anything,” the woman added. “Because Cybil Truscott is a star, and we’re just lowly guests of the hotel. So she can get away with murder.”
Odelia looked up, and both Dooley and I pricked up our ears. “Murder?” Odelia asked.
“Just a figure of speech,” said the woman. “Though I’m sure she could get away with murder. Did you hear about her husband that got killed last night?”
“But if she was… fornicating right under your noses, surely she couldn’t have done it,” Odelia said.
The woman frowned. This hadn’t occurred to her. “Well, no, but she could have hired a person to do it for her.”
“Like a hitman,” said her husband. “Those rich folks do it all the time. Don’t like your husband? Pay someone to kill him. It’s a common thing in Hollywood.”
I didn’t know about that, and neither did Odelia, apparently, for she wrinkled her nose dubiously. “Did you tell the police about the pool boy thing?”
“Oh, no!” said the woman. “Far be it from us to get involved with the police.”
“I’m sure the police know all about it,” her husband clarified. “I mean, the entire hotel saw the lurid scene! They were all on their balconies, shaking their heads in absolute dismay.”
“But that didn’t keep them from watching,” Odelia muttered.
Grandma came trudging up to us, and the tourists stalked off, their faces contorted into expressions of condemnation.
“Alec says he’ll give me a ride home,” Gran said. “Not that I want a ride home, mind you. I was having so much fun with Leo, until some people started complaining.” She gave a disgusted grunt. “I just wish they’d all mind their own business for a change. I mean, what’s wrong with having a little fun at the beach?”
“There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun as long as you don’t do it in front of a bunch of families with kids, Gran,” Odelia said. “So please don’t do it again, all right?”
“Now that’s a reprimand,” I whispered to Dooley.
“That’s what I figured,” he whispered back. He stole a glance at Gran. “So do you think it’s too soon for me to ask for that piece of chicken?”
Chapter 12
Chief Alec drove Odelia and Gran to the Hampton Springs Hotel. Odelia wanted to check the story of Cybil Truscott and the pool boy so they could scratch the widow off their list of suspects. They entered the hotel and the Chief asked the clerk at the reception desk about the incident of last night. The clerk immediately blushed.
“Um, yes, that happened,” the young man said. He had red hair and freckles and a hard time suppressing a grin.
“So where can we find the male star of this auspicious event?” the Chief asked.
The guy gestured at the pool area. “Dale’s working today, though from the looks of things he won’t be for much longer.”
“Why is that?” Odelia asked.
“Hotel rules. We’re not supposed to get too friendly with the guests.”
“And Dale broke that rule,” the Chief said, nodding.
“He got way too friendly,” he said, that grin finally breaking through. “Way and way too friendly from what I heard.”
“Right,” said the Chief, tapping the desk. “Thanks, buddy.”
They walked outside, and Gran said, “I don’t get it. This Truscott woman can make a spectacle of herself in front of the entire hotel and I can’t even spend some time at the beach with my lover? That’s just not right, Alec!”
“There’s a difference between what people do in the privacy of their pool in the middle of the night and what they do on a public beach during the day,” he grumbled.
“But this isn’t Truscott’s private pool. This is the hotel pool.”
“Nobody complained,” the Chief said. “No complaint, no problem.”
“I should have ducked behind the bushes,” Gran grumbled. “But Leo doesn’t like the bushes. Says it feels too sneaky. And he doesn’t like sneaky.”
“Sounds like Leo is quite a pistol,” said Uncle Alec.
“Sounds like Leo is a bad influence,” Odelia said.
She shared a look with her uncle. “Or the other way around,” the latter muttered. She smiled. He just might be right. Leo didn’t really look like the kind of guy who’d go out of his way to cause trouble. In fact he looked one cardiac arrest away from a trip to the morgue. If anyone was the pistol here, it was Gran.
They stepped onto the paved pool area and searched around for the infamous pool boy. There were plenty of hotel guests lounging on pool beds and chaise lounges, sipping cocktails and reading the latest summer bestseller. Then she spotted a young man messing around with what looked like a filter near the edge of the pool. He was tan with brown hair, dressed in blue dolphin boxers and looked way too young to be entertaining Mrs. Truscott in the middle of the night.
They headed over while Gran made herself comfortable on one of the chaise lounges. Chief Alec had sworn not to let his mother out of his sight for the rest of the day, or anywhere near Leo. His officers had wanted to put her under arrest, but when they discovered who she was, had balked at the prospect of arresting their boss’s mother. To save face, Alec had told them he’d personally guarantee something like this didn’t happen again. At least not today.
“Hey there, son,” the Chief said as they approached the kid.
He looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Yes?”
“Alec Lip. Chief of Police. Can I have a word with you?”
The kid rose to his feet. He looked like he’d been expecting this. “Yes?” His eyes darted to Odelia, a question mark forming on his face.
“Oh, thi
s is Odelia Poole. My niece. She’s helping me investigate the murder of Niklaus Skad. So it’s Dale, right? Dale….”
The kid licked his lips. He didn’t look a day over twenty. “Dale Hoover, sir.”
“Well, Dale Hoover, we’re trying to ascertain the whereabouts of Niklaus Skad’s wife last night. I believe you’re familiar with Cybil Truscott?”
“I… I don’t believe I am, sir. Is she a guest at the hotel?”
“Oh, yes, she is. And we heard you are familiar with Mrs. Truscott.” He gave Dale a knowing look. “Very familiar, if you know what I mean.”
“I—I’m sure I don’t know, sir,” Dale stammered, blushing beneath his tan.
“You and Cybil were seen going at it last night in the pool,” Odelia explained.
“At it? I don’t know…”
“Come on, son. I don’t have to draw you a picture, do I?” the Chief asked.
“The entire hotel saw you, Dale,” Odelia said. She gestured up, and Dale followed her gesture. His face fell. The entire hotel was built around the pool area, five floors of balconied rooms all looking out across the pool.
“Oh…” he said, now looking positively mortified. “Oh, well damn.”
“Yes, that’s the expression I would have used,” said the Chief with a sympathetic smile. “I take it you didn’t know you had witnesses?”
“No, I did not, sir,” said the kid, gulping slightly.
“One thing you should know about women like Cybil Truscott, son,” said the Chief. “They love attention. In fact they crave it. So while you may not have been aware that this spot is a very public one, even at night, she certainly did.”
“I was expecting her to invite me up to her room, but she insisted we stay here. She said the water…” He gulped again. “The water acted like an aphrodisiac.”
“Right,” Odelia said skeptically. More like the attention.
“Do you have a girlfriend, Dale?” asked the Chief.
He nodded. “High school sweetheart, sir. If she finds out about this…”
“I’ll bet she won’t be too well pleased.”
“Please don’t tell her about it,” he pleaded.