Purrfect Heat (The Mysteries of Max Book 4)

by Nic Saint

  “So we’re investigating the murder of your human,” I said. “Niklaus?”

  “Yeah, I know who my human is,” said Puck. “I mean, was.”

  He didn’t look too broken up about the chef’s death. “So what do you think happened?” I asked.

  “Not so fast, Max,” said Dooley. “You can’t just waltz in here and start asking a bunch of questions.” He nodded at Puck. “Hi, my name is Dooley, and these are Max and Brutus. We live with a woman named Odelia Poole. She’s a reporter investigating the murder of your human. And we’re here to help her.”

  “I’ve heard about you,” said Puck. “Your human can communicate with you, right?”

  “Where did you hear that?” Brutus immediately asked.

  “There was a cat at the restaurant Niklaus was doing, um… what was her name again? Oh, that’s right. Montserrat. She kinda belonged to one of the girls that worked there. She told me about this cat that talks to his human, and helps her solve murders and stuff. Max. That’s you, right?”

  “Yeah, that is me,” I admitted, starting to swell a little with pride. So I was famous, huh? Cool.

  “Did she also talk about me?” Dooley asked. “Cause we’re buds, Max and I. We solve all these murders together.”

  “And don’t forget about me,” Brutus chimed in. “We’re a trio now.”

  “Nah. She only mentioned Max. Said you were a big orange cat.”

  “Blorange,” I was quick to correct him. “Yes, it’s a color,” I added before he could ask. “So what about Stacie? Do you think she killed Niklaus?”

  “Max!” Dooley cried. “You can’t just spring a question like that on him! Can’t you see the dog is grieving?”

  “I’m not grieving,” said Puck, his soft brown eyes mellow and bright. He’d plunked his big, hairy body down and was resting his head on his front paws. He had a funny-looking white fringe that hung over his eyes. The guy clearly needed a trim.

  “You’re not?” Dooley asked. “But your human died.”

  “Yeah, and I’m happy he did. He was a pretty lousy human. Stacie is a great person, and so much nicer to me than Niklaus ever was. Did you know he used to beat me? Yeah, that’s right. He was one of those humans. A nasty one.”

  “That’s just terrible!” Dooley cried. “He beat you? How awful!”

  “He treated Stacie pretty badly, too. Used to yell at her all the time. She used to cry a lot, but only when no one was watching. Except me. So I guess you could say we went through the same ordeal and came out the other end.”

  “You have a shoulder to cry on and so does she,” Dooley said. “How moving.”

  “Are you crying, little buddy?” asked Puck.

  “No,” said Dooley in a strangled voice. “Just a speck of dust.”

  “Don’t cry for us,” said Puck. “We’re great now. Stacie has already told me she plans to keep me, so I’m in dog heaven right now. Stacie is the best.”

  “So…” I glanced at Dooley, wondering if now was the time to ask the question. But he was so busy wiping his eyes that he didn’t notice. I shrugged. “So did Stacie kill Niklaus?”

  “Max!” Dooley cried.

  “Yeah, Max,” Brutus growled. “Where are your manners?”

  “Hey, how else am I going to get an answer?”

  “It’s all right,” said Puck. “The short answer is that I have no idea. I wasn’t there when Niklaus was killed. He’d locked me up in his suite as usual. The long answer is that I’m pretty sure Stacie would never do such a thing. She’s far too sweet. Besides, have you seen Stacie?”

  “Um, no, we haven’t,” I said.

  “She’s small, buddy. And from what I hear the killer hoisted Niklaus all the way up into the restaurant oven.” He shook his head, his fringe swishing. “Nah. No way that girl has the body strength to perform such a feat.”

  Well, I had my answer, and I was glad. Another suspect scratched from the list. Odelia would be happy.

  “So do you have any idea who did kill Niklaus?” Brutus asked.

  Great question. Why didn’t I think of that?

  His big, mellow dog eyes grew moist. “No idea. But whoever did it deserves a medal. Without him—or her—I would still be locked up in that suite, and Stacie would still be the least-appreciated assistant in the world.”

  It was pretty clear to me that Niklaus Skad’s killer had done the world a favor, or at least Puck and Stacie. It was a touching story, and one I just knew would one day make a great Lifetime movie featuring Danica McKellar in the role of Stacie and Rob Lowe as Niklaus Skad. I wondered who’d play the dog. Or me!

  Puck was recalling some more moving moments from his life as a dog, while Dooley listened with bated breath, Brutus checked out Puck’s bowl for scraps, and I checked out the room for clues to Stacie’s personality.

  Suddenly the doorbell rang, and a tired voice sounded in the bedroom. “Who is it?!”

  Then the voice of Odelia came through the door, loud and clear. “Odelia Poole, Miss Roebuck. Could I please have a moment of your time?”

  Chapter 17

  Odelia knocked on the door again. Maybe Stacie wasn’t going to let her in? That was the disadvantage of being a reporter. Oftentimes people simply didn’t allow you in. And she couldn’t force them. It wasn’t as if she was the police or something. No one was under any obligation to talk to her.

  “Coming!” the same voice sounded from inside.

  The door was opened and a tired-looking young woman looked out at her. “Yes?”

  “Hi. Miss Roebuck? Miss Stacie Roebuck? My name is Odelia Poole? I’m a reporter with the Hampton Cove Gazette. I also work as a consultant with the Hampton Cove Police Department. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about your boss.”

  Stacie nodded and opened the door wider. As Odelia stepped in, she saw three cats and a dog sitting on the carpet staring up at her. She did a double take, and when she looked again, she saw that Max, Dooley and Brutus had vanished, and that only the dog was left. He was a big, black, hairy dog with soulful eyes.

  “Lemme just close the window,” said Stacie, and padded over barefoot, snapping it shut. Just before she did, Odelia saw how her three cats had been inching toward the window, which was probably how they’d gotten in in the first place. So now they were trapped. Great. Just great.

  “I’m sorry to bother you at such an early hour,” she said.

  “No, that’s all right. I must have overslept. Usually I get up at the crack of dawn, but now, with all that’s happened, I guess I was just bone-tired last night.”

  Stacie Roebuck was a slight woman of around Odelia’s age. She had half-long auburn hair and was wearing green-framed glasses, accentuating the jade in her eyes. There were also dark rims under those same eyes, adding substance to her words that she was indeed bone-tired. Which didn’t surprise Odelia.

  “Don’t mind the mess,” Stacie said apologetically. “It’s been a hectic couple of days, as you can imagine.”

  Odelia looked around the room but saw no mess to speak of. Through the open door of the bedroom she could see some clothes strewn around in there, but the living room was perfectly spotless, which told her Stacie hadn’t been in much. A laptop was open on the desk, and a neat pile of cookbooks—all authored by Niklaus Skad—were stacked next to the laptop, but otherwise there was absolutely no clutter.

  The dog came over to her and pressed his nose into her hand. “He’s sweet,” she said with a smile. “Is he yours?”

  “He is now,” said Stacie with a tired smile. “His name is Puck, and he belonged to Niklaus. I’ve decided to adopt him.”

  “I’m sorry to have to ask you this,” she said, “but do you have any idea what happened?”

  Stacie shook her head. She was dressed in a purple sweater and sweatpants and sat at the edge of the sofa, Odelia right across from her. “I hadn’t seen Niklaus since that morning. He’d done a taping at the restaurant and then decided he needed the day off. He said he’d spe
nd it at the pool, or maybe at the beach, so I knew not to bother him.”

  “Did you also take the day off?”

  “Oh, no,” said Stacie with a laugh. “Niklaus hardly ever let me take the day off. There was always something that needed to be done.”

  “So what did you do?” asked Odelia, hoping her line of questioning wasn’t too abrupt. She sometimes wished she had her uncle’s flair for asking the right questions. He had a knack for putting people at ease.

  “I stayed at the restaurant, setting up the next taping.” She gestured with her hand. “There were some fires to put out—the chef…” Her voice trailed off, as she was aware there were certain things better left unsaid in front of a reporter.

  “I’m not going to print any of this,” Odelia said, “if you don’t want to. What I want most of all is to find out what happened—who did this to Niklaus.”

  The assistant nodded. “Niklaus Skad wasn’t the easiest man to work for. He had a habit of rubbing people the wrong way. It was his style—the thing he was known for—and the main reason people watched the show. They liked the abrasiveness. And the drama. The conflict and the outbursts. The way he humiliated people.” She paused, bringing a trembling hand to her face, ineffectually pushing at her hair and then dropping it in her lap.

  “I know this is hard for you,” Odelia said, scooting forward.

  “It’s fine. It’s just… There was a huge row during the taping, so I spent a big chunk of the day trying to put out the fire. The chef was so undone he told everyone he’d quit, and the owners were threatening to pull out of the show. It didn’t help matters that I had to point out to them they’d signed a contract and that they couldn’t cancel even if they wanted to.”

  “Looks like Niklaus liked to stir the pot and left you to pick up the pieces.”

  “That’s exactly what he did.”

  “That can’t have been much fun.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” She glanced at Puck, who’d put his head in her lap and was gazing up at her with his sad dog eyes. She placed a hand on the dog’s head and smiled. “I think it’s safe to say that neither me or Puck are very sorry that Niklaus is gone.” She looked up in alarm. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That was massively unprofessional of me.”

  “No, it’s fine,” said Odelia. “I’ve heard the stories. I’ve seen the shows. It must have been tough on you.”

  “Yes, it was. Probably the hardest job I’ve ever had. And the longest three years of my life.”

  “You worked for him for three years?”

  Stacie nodded. “Everybody said I was crazy to stay. All his other assistants had walked out after only a couple of months—or weeks. But there was something special about Niklaus Skad. He might have been a demanding boss—and not a very nice one—but I admired him for what he’d achieved. He built an entire empire—a complete brand—all by himself and in record time. I couldn’t help but have a lot of respect for him as a businessman. As a person? Not so much.” She tickled Puck behind the ears. “For one thing, he wasn’t very nice to Puck. And I resented that. Humans can defend themselves, but dogs can’t.”

  “I agree,” she said. “I hate people who are mean to animals.”

  “Me, too,” said Stacie with a sad smile. “I just can’t tolerate them.”

  “So… where were you when Mr. Skad died, Stacie? I’m sorry—I have to ask.”

  “Of course. I was right here, preparing for the next day’s shoot. That’s what I usually did at night. Making sure that everything was ready for the next day. So that Niklaus just had to walk on set and do his thing.”

  “Can anyone confirm that you were here?”

  “Nope. Not even Puck. He was still locked up in Mr. Skad’s suite.” She gave Odelia a hesitant look. “Do you think the police will suspect me?”

  “I think you’ll be one of the suspects, yes.”

  She nodded. “Of course. I had the motive to kill him. And I certainly had opportunity. Though I had no idea he returned to the restaurant. Usually when we were out on location he liked to stay in his room and…” She grimaced. “… invite company.”

  “Female company?”

  “Yes. He liked to go out and, well, sample the local offerings.”

  “Why do you think he went back to the restaurant? Maybe he wanted to prepare for the next day?”

  She shook her head adamantly. “No way. Niklaus never bothered with that. He even told me once he stayed far away from the restaurants he was doing. He wanted to arrive on the scene with fresh eyes and go with his gut. He didn’t want to overthink things. Visiting a restaurant the night before a shoot was something he’d never do.”

  “So you have no idea why he returned?”

  “None.”

  She eyed the woman curiously. She was slight. Too slight to be able to lift the body of her boss up and into the oven. If she were the murderer she would have needed help. No way she could have done this alone. “Thank you, Stacie.”

  “You’re welcome. I suppose the police will want a word with me?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid they will. But don’t worry. My uncle is a kind and fair man.”

  “Your uncle is a policeman?”

  “Yes. He’s Chief of Police.”

  They both rose, and Stacie stood hugging herself for a moment. “I hope he catches whoever did this. I would like to go home and put this whole thing behind me as soon as possible.”

  “I’m sure we’ll catch the culprit soon,” she said, projecting a confidence she wasn’t exactly feeling. So far they had nothing. Unless this Chef Serarols proved to be a viable suspect. Her uncle certainly seemed to think so. “What was your impression of Hendrik Serarols?”

  “He seemed nice enough. I think he’s a great chef, and he only made those mistakes because Niklaus was giving him such a hard time. It’s not easy to perform under such great pressure.” She gave a weak smile. “I speak from experience.” Her smile vanished. “Why? Do you think he did it?”

  “He doesn’t have an alibi for the night of the murder, so…”

  “I can’t believe he would do such a thing. But then again, I guess everybody is capable of murder, even the ones you least suspect.”

  “That is certainly true,” she agreed.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw that Max was frantically trying to get her attention. So she walked to the door and opened it, then blocked Stacie’s view of it by pointing at the window. “Is it true that Niklaus Skad’s wife gave such a performance the night her husband was killed?”

  Stacie grinned. “Oh, yes, she did. I honestly couldn’t watch. It was so embarrassing. A woman like her pouncing on a man half her age? There was something really tragic about it.”

  She watched as Max, Dooley and Brutus snuck out through the door. “You knew her well? Cybil Truscott?”

  “I did. And I’d say Niklaus and Cybil deserved each other. They were both people who only cared about themselves.” Puck gave a bark of agreement at this, and Stacie bent down and gave him a hug. “This guy here is just about the only good thing I’m taking away from this experience.”

  “He’s lucky to have you,” Odelia said.

  “No, I’m lucky to have him,” Stacie said.

  And as she stepped out and closed the door behind her, she was convinced that Stacie was innocent. No way anyone could fake that performance.

  She looked around, and saw that Max and the others were waiting for her at the top of the stairs. “What were you guys doing in there?” she asked, crouching down.

  “You told us to have a talk with Puck, so we did,” Max said simply.

  “And? What’s the verdict?”

  “Puck doesn’t think Stacie could have done it. She’s way too sweet.”

  “And too weak,” Brutus added.

  “Too slight,” Max corrected him.

  “I agree,” Odelia said. “I don’t think she did it.”

  “So who did?” Dooley asked.

  “If you can answer th
at, I’ll give you all the chicken wings you could ever dream of,” she said, giving Dooley a pat on the head.

  The cat grinned. “See, Brutus? That power of the mind thing is working already!”

  Chapter 18

  We plodded down the stairs in Odelia’s wake. I was feeling pretty exhilarated. This mission had been a success. I actually felt like James Bond or something: sneaking into hotel rooms to spy secrets and stuff. The only difference between James and me was that there hadn’t been a pretty girl waiting in that hotel room but a big, hairy dog. Story of my life, I guess.

  “So what’s next?” Brutus asked. The mission had cheered him up.

  “Next is that we need to get rid of this Diego character,” I said.

  Brutus shook his head. “It can’t be done, Max. Didn’t you hear Odelia? He’s here to stay.”

  “Not if you make him go away,” I said.

  “Me? How can I make him go away?”

  “You just have to put your paw down, Brutus. You have to lay it all out for him. You have to show him who’s the boss.”

  He paused halfway down the stairs. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

  “The same way you showed us who’s boss,” I said. “Remember when you first arrived in town? How you told us you were the cat of a cop and you were laying down the law from now on and a bunch of little sissy cats weren’t going to stand in the way of you achieving world domination?”

  “Um, I don’t think that’s what happened,” Dooley said.

  “It’s how I remember it,” I said. “And that’s what counts. What it all comes down to is that you have to cat up, Brutus. Girls like a strong cat. A cat who tells it like it is. Who takes no crap from no one, and definitely not from some nasty skinny-ass cat like Diego.”

  Throughout my little pep talk, Brutus was perking up. He was almost looking like his old self again. Whether this was a good thing or not remained to be seen. I was pumping him up. Boosting his ego. He might just as easily turn against us. Side with Diego and make our lives a living hell. But I didn’t think so. We had an actual opportunity here to make Brutus our ally and not our enemy and we had to take it. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or something along those lines. And since Diego was clearly the bigger of two evils here, Brutus needed to become our friend.