Purrfect Crime (The Mysteries of Max Book 5)

by Nic Saint

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

  “But we found the ghost!”

  “You shouldn’t have been out there!”

  “But… we’re just trying to help. Find the killer and all that.”

  She shot him a look of censure. He was right, of course. They had found a valuable clue. “All right. You can come. But on one condition.”

  “Anything!”

  “From now on you’re going to stick to your diet. No more sneaking off in search of food. Is that understood?”

  Max wavered. This was obviously a hard decision to make. Finally his curiosity to find out more about this ghost won out and he nodded. “Oh, all right. I’ll stick to my diet from now on.”

  “Good.” She got dressed in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, slipped her feet into a pair of sneakers and snatched her smartphone from the nightstand.

  “Don’t forget to take your dildo,” said Dooley helpfully.

  Her hand paused. “What did you just say?”

  “Your dildo,” Dooley said. “To reach those hard-to-reach G-spots. Who knows where this ghost is hiding, right?”

  She frowned down at Dooley and Max, both looking up at her with expressions of such innocence and guilelessness she couldn’t help but smile. “Of course I’ll take my dildo. I never leave home without it.” She snapped the plastic object from the drawer and put it in her pocket. And as she walked down the stairs she swore never to let those cats near the Internet again. Ever.

  Chapter 24

  She arrived at the house just as Chase rolled up in his pickup truck and parked right behind hers. He got out, his hair tousled and dressed in sturdy jeans, check flannel shirt and cowboy boots. “So what’s this about a prowler? And don’t give me that women’s intuition line again.”

  “I got a call just now from one of Donna’s neighbors walking his dog. He said he saw someone move around inside the house.”

  “Who called?”

  “I’m sorry but I can’t tell you. A reporter has to protect her sources.”

  He gave her an intense look. “Haven’t we moved beyond that crap, Odelia?”

  She lifted her shoulders in a shrug and turned toward the house. “What can I say? My sources trust me to protect their confidentiality and anonymity and I owe it to them to respect that.”

  “Of course you do,” he grumbled as he fell into step beside her. He looked down when he saw movement and started. “You brought your cats along?”

  “Always.”

  He shook his head. “You are one special cookie, Odelia.”

  She hooked her arm through his. “But you like special cookies, right?”

  He eyed her warmly. “You know I do. Now let’s catch ourselves a prowler, shall we?”

  They arrived at the house and Odelia watched her cats sneak around the back. A sliver of fear suddenly settled around her heart. “So how do you want to do this?”

  “Very carefully,” Chase said, and peered into one of the windows on the ground floor. “I don’t see a thing.”

  “Maybe they’re upstairs.” Or maybe they left already. Or maybe her cats were delusional.

  Chase moved to the front door and studied the lock for a moment. Then he took a small pouch from his pocket and extracted a metal tool that she seemed to recognize from her frequent visits to the dentist. Chase inserted it into the lock, then added a second metal tool and messed around with them for a while. The door suddenly clicked open and they were in.

  “I didn’t know you burgled houses for a living!” she whispered as they stepped inside.

  “Back when I was employed by the NYPD I had a buddy who was a converted crook. He taught me a few tricks of his trade. You never know when this kind of stuff comes in handy. Like now.”

  “Can you teach me?”

  He grinned. “If you teach me about women’s intuition.”

  “I can’t. It’s called women’s intuition for a reason.”

  “So it’s like some kind of secret only shared by women, huh?”

  “Something like that.”

  They both took out their smartphones to light their way, and quickly inspected the ground floor but found it to be completely deserted. Odelia sniffed the air, and thought the house smelled an awful lot of pot, for some reason. She noticed Max gesturing at her through a half-opened window so she opened the window further and let him in. “Remember what I told you,” she said. “No looking for food. Only clues.”

  “Clues, yes. Food, no. Gotcha.”

  She followed Chase up the stairs, going from room to room. With two bathrooms and six bedrooms, the place was pretty expansive, and they’d finally reached the master bedroom when both their beams of light fell on a lone figure asleep in the bed. They halted in their tracks.

  “What the…” Chase muttered. He held up a hand, balling it into a fist in some kind of Special Forces command, and proceeded further into the room, Odelia hanging back. She saw that he’d drawn his gun and was pointing it at the intruder. She just hoped it wasn’t Donna’s ghost because she didn’t think ghosts responded well to gunfire.

  Chase had reached the bed and was staring down at the sleeping figure, a frown creasing his brow.

  “Who is it?” she asked from the door.

  He beckoned her over, holstering his service weapon. And as she joined him, she saw the figure was a woman, dressed in a long, flowing white robe, barefoot and with long dark hair. And it definitely wasn’t Donna Bruce.

  “She looks familiar somehow,” said Chase. “Like I’ve seen her before somewhere.”

  And then it dawned on her. “But that’s Zelda Yoke. The actress. She starred in those Star Cars movies. Remember? Where a bunch of cars turn out to be these big robot warriors, fighting other big robot warriors in space. She made a bunch of those.”

  “I remember. Weren’t she and Donna Bruce locked in some kind of rivalry?”

  “They were. Donna starred in the more popular Star Rigs franchise, where a bunch of trucks turn out to be big robot warriors, fighting other big robot warriors in space.”

  As the leading ladies of the two nearly identical franchises, the two stars fought a bitter battle for years. Finally, Donna retired from the franchise and acting to focus on her website, and Zelda’s star had faded away when the fifth and final movie in the Star Cars series bombed at the box office.

  Chase shook the woman’s shoulder and she stirred, smacking her lips. “Donna? Is that you?” she murmured. When she opened her eyes and saw two strangers staring down at her, she yelped in sudden fear. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Hampton Cove Police, ma’am. May I ask what you’re doing in Donna Bruce’s bed?”

  The woman blinked. “Why, Donna invited me, of course. I’m her starring guest.”

  “You are aware that Mrs. Bruce passed away this morning, ma’am?”

  “Of course I’m aware Donna passed away. Why do you think I’m here?”

  “You mean she invited you before she died?”

  “No, she invited me after she died. Told me to come to her home and get in touch with her spirit.” She sat up, a glazed look in her eyes. “Donna and I have always had a very strong connection. Sisters from another mister is what we were. Kindred spirits. So when she died I felt a very powerful disturbance in the force and I just knew I had to come here.”

  “I’m afraid you’re trespassing, ma’am.”

  “But Donna wants me here. She needs me here. I’m telling you her spirit reached out to me.”

  “Why don’t you get dressed and come with me?”

  “Come with you?” She frowned. “Who are you again?”

  “Hampton Cove Police. And I’m afraid you’re under arrest for trespassing.”

  “But I can’t be. I keep telling you but you won’t listen. Donna invited me. I’m a guest.”

  “Were you burning something downstairs, Mrs. Yoke?” asked Odelia, remembering Dooley’s words.

  The former actress smiled. “Y
ou’re very perceptive. I was burning incense. To ward off the bad spirits and to summon Donna’s spirit.”

  “And did it work?” asked Chase.

  “Not yet. But I’m sure she’ll be here any moment now.” The woman glanced around, as if fully expecting Donna to suddenly materialize out of thin air. “She invited me here, you know.”

  “Of course she did,” said Chase. “Now come along, Mrs. Yoke.”

  “Are you familiar with my work, Officer?”

  “As a matter of fact I am,” said Chase as he escorted the woman from the room.

  “And what was your favorite? I liked the first Star Cars the most. That one was a huge hit.”

  “Yes, it was,” said Chase, and helped the actress down the stairs. It was a little sad to see her like this, Odelia thought. She had been wonderful in those Star Cars movies.

  “Did you know I do all my own stunts?”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “Donna never did. Everything you see in those Star Rigs movies is all CGI. With Star Cars what you see is what you get. It’s all real. All me.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking, where were you this morning around seven, Mrs. Yoke?”

  “This morning around seven?” They’d reached the foyer and Chase opened the front door to escort the woman out. “Why, I was reaching out to Donna, of course. We’re connected on a higher level, you know. Soul sisters.”

  “Mind the step.”

  And as the woman padded barefoot along the drive in the direction of Chase’s pickup, Odelia and Chase at her elbows making sure she didn’t trip and fall, Odelia thought they’d just closed this case. It was now obvious to her that the intense rivalry that had existed between the two actresses all these years had finally driven Zelda Yoke crazy, inducing her to commit this atrocious act of violence and get rid of her ‘soul sister’ once and for all.

  The cats came tripping behind her. They, too, seemed pleased as punch at this unexpected development. Mostly because they’d beaten Harriet at her own game, and possibly because Max had found something to eat after all, judging from the crumbs of dog biscuit covering his lips.

  She decided he’d earned it. And as Chase placed Zelda in the back of his car and locked the door, he said, “I think the combination of your intuition and your secretive informant may just have cracked this case, Odelia.”

  “I think so, too,” she said, directing a commiserating glance at Zelda, who sat muttering to herself, rocking back and forth. “What a sad ending, though, right?”

  “Yeah, I loved those Star Cars movies. They were da bomb.”

  “Da bomb?” she laughed. “The nineties called, they want their bomb back.”

  “Laugh all you want. Star Cars was great fun.”

  “I was more into Star Rigs.”

  “Star Rigs was clearly a rip-off of Star Cars.”

  “I’m pretty sure Star Rigs came first.”

  “And I’m pretty sure you’re wrong.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re a Zelda Yoke fan.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re a Donna Bruce fan.”

  Odelia held her hand up in the Star Rigs salute, which was a fist with her pinkie finger sticking out. “Star Rigs forever, buddy.”

  Chase made the Star Cars salute, a fist with his thumb sticking out sideways. “Star Cars all the way, babe.”

  And the age-old rivalry would have caused two more casualties if Zelda hadn’t at that moment rolled down her window and asked, “Can we go now? Donna is waiting for me.”

  “Waiting for you where?” asked Chase.

  The actress raised her eyes to the sky. “Why, amongst the stars, of course.”

  “Of course,” said Chase with a grin at Odelia, and got into the car.

  Odelia watched him drive off. “Well, you guys did good.”

  “Do you think she did it?” asked Dooley.

  “I’m pretty sure she did.”

  “Yay!” Max said, pumping the air with his paw. “So can I have some Cat Snax now?”

  She smiled. “Yes, you can. But then you’re going back on the diet, all right?”

  “Yes!” Max exclaimed, exchanging a high five with Dooley. “We did it, Dooley!”

  “Case closed?”

  “Case closed,” Odelia agreed.

  Chapter 25

  I was lounging on the windowsill, the sun streaming in through the window, having a well-deserved nap. I’d solved the case. I’d enjoyed my Cat Snax. Now all I had to do was rub Harriet’s face in my victory and my triumph was complete.

  Dooley was lying next to me, also in deep slumber, while Odelia had left to interview Zelda Yoke, the actress who’d murdered her long-time rival. According to Odelia it was a sad case, though I didn’t see it that way. Rivalry amongst actors has always existed. Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. Olivia de Havilland and Joan Fontaine. Tom and Jerry. The list goes on and on. Only this time a line had been crossed and one rival had actually murdered another rival. I guess it’s just one of those things. I think they call it an occupational hazard. I’m sure you can even take out insurance against it.

  “Max, you devil,” suddenly a voice rang out nearby.

  I opened one eye and saw that Harriet had drifted into the room.

  “Hey, Harriet. How’s things?”

  “Things are lousy. You just solved my case without me! You actually went around my back and solved my case!”

  “Hey, I just had one of my famous hunches. You can’t blame me for being brilliant.”

  She seemed really fired up, for she was pacing the room, her face all scrunched up in an expression of extreme upset. “This was my case, Max. My case. I was going to solve it.”

  “By surfing the web. Riiiight,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “It’s the new way! The modern way.”

  “Solving a murder case without leaving the house? That’s just ridiculous!”

  “No, it’s not. Hercule Poirot solved murder cases just by letting his little gray cells do all the work. And he didn’t even have a computer!”

  “He had that gumshoe, that Hastings guy to do all the legwork for him,” I reminded her. Which actually wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe next case I could get Dooley to do all the walking around—which is kinda exhausting, you have to admit, not to mention tedious—and then I’d simply put two and two together and come up with a brilliant solution. Just like that pint-sized Belgian detective!

  Brutus had also joined us and was sticking his nose in the air and sniffing. “Cat Snax?” he asked.

  “Yup. My reward for cracking another case.”

  He grimaced. “Good for you, Max. Though I wouldn’t advertise the fact too much. Harriet’s been sore as a gumboil ever since she found out.”

  Harriet, who’d disappeared into the kitchen, now returned, and Brutus was right. She was sore as a gumboil. Maybe even sorer. Like two gumboils. “I can’t believe Odelia let you skip your diet!” she cried. “Cat Snax? Really? You should be ashamed of yourself!”

  I wasn’t following. “Ashamed of myself for cracking this case?”

  “No, for manipulating Odelia into letting you cheat on your diet.”

  “It’s my reward. I did the work and now I deserve a reward.”

  “Don’t you see that you’re endangering yourself with this morbid obesity you’re pushing for, Max?”

  “Hey, who are you calling morbidly obese?”

  “You, Max. You are morbidly obese.”

  “And you are jealous I cracked the case and you didn’t.”

  “You only think about yourself, don’t you? Huh?”

  “Who else is there to think about?” I asked, puzzled.

  “He’s got a point, toots,” said Brutus.

  She turned on him in a flash. “Oh, now you’re taking his side?”

  “No, but…”

  “You men! You’re all the same! Never a thought about anyone but yourselves! Have you ever considered Odelia’s feelings, Max?”

  “Um…”r />
  “How devastated she’s going to be when you die?”

  “Well, I don’t intend to die anytime soon, so the point is moot.”

  Dooley, who’d followed the back-and-forth with mild interest, laughed. “Moot. Funny word.”

  “The way you’re going, you are going to die soon, Max. And Odelia is going to be crushed. For some reason—Lord only knows why—she seems to care about you, and the loss will be a blow.”

  I thought about this. Maybe Harriet was right. If I died—which was a very big if, mind you—Odelia wouldn’t take the news well. She did like me a lot. And what was not to like? I’m funny, charming, handsome, clever and I provide great entertainment.

  “Look, I’m not going to die, Harriet,” I said. “So you can stop with all the scaremongering. I know you’re jealous because I cracked another case and you’ll say just about anything to upset me but it’s not going to work.”

  “Good one, bro,” Brutus muttered.

  I glanced over. Weird. Brutus was taking my side now? This was something new.

  “Well, I’ll have you know that if you keep digging your grave with your teeth the way you’ve been doing for some time now you’ll be dead within a year. Probably even less. So there.”

  “Is she right, Max?” asked Dooley. “Are you going to die soon?”

  “Of course I’m not going to die! I’m far too young to die!”

  “Not if you keep eating those Cat Snax,” said Harriet. “That stuff will kill you.”

  “Pretty tasty, though,” Brutus muttered, refusing to meet Harriet’s gaze.

  “And the same goes for you, Brutus,” said Harriet. “If you can’t stick to your diet we’re finished. Kaput. The end.”

  He directed a pleading look at her. “Come on, babe. I’m not as fat as Max. Just look at us. He’s a lot fatter than me. He’s at least twice my size.”

  “That’s because he’s a different body type,” she snapped.

  Brutus lifted his face to me, the look of a long-suffering cat in his eyes. ‘See what I’m dealing with here?’ the look seemed to say. ‘You’re not the only cat who’s in pain.’

  And then I got it. For some reason, Harriet had put her beau on a diet. And knowing Brutus as a great trenchercat, one whose jaws never seemed to stop mauling some little morsel or snack, he was probably in his own private hell right now. And since misery loves company, he was obviously looking upon me as a friend. A fellow sufferer of this diet craze.