Purrfectly Royal (The Mysteries of Max Book 13)

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Purrfectly Royal (The Mysteries of Max Book 13) Page 5

by Nic Saint


  Here, Chase couldn’t drag suspects into rooms with one-way mirrors. Subtlety was the name of the game, something he wasn’t very adapt in.

  Max came padding into the room. “This place is awesome,” he announced.

  “Yeah, awesome,” Dooley confirmed, padding in right behind his friend.

  “What are they saying?” asked Chase.

  “They’re saying they like it here. The exact word is ‘awesome.’”

  Chase grinned. “They took the words right out of my mouth. This place is like a five-star hotel, only better.”

  A maid tapped politely on the door. “Will there be anything else, Miss Poole?” she asked.

  “No, we’re good,” said Odelia. Then, when the young woman made signs of retreating discreetly, she quickly added, “Or wait—maybe there’s one thing.”

  “Yes, Miss Poole?”

  The maid was young and pretty, with long auburn hair and hazel eyes. She wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Richard Curtis movie, where the prime minister falls in love with his secretary, or the bestseller writer with his maid.

  “Have you worked here long, Miss…”

  “Suzy,” said the girl. “I’ve been with the Duke and Duchess six months now, Ma’am,” she said deferentially.

  “And do you like working for my cousin?” asked Odelia, trying to keep things casual and not make it sound like an interrogation.

  “Oh, yes, Miss Poole.”

  “Please call me Odelia,” said Odelia.

  “They’re a wonderful couple. A breath of fresh air,” said the girl, enthusiasm making her face light up. “I was with the Baroness Emilia Hartford before, and she was... quite demanding.”

  “More demanding than Tessa and Dante, I suppose?”

  “Oh, yes,” said the girl with a smile. “Very much so. The Duke and Duchess are very disciplined, with a lot going on in their lives, but they never take it out on their staff.”

  “Angela told me there are a lot of people that don’t seem to like Tessa all that much,” said Odelia, trying to inject a note of cousinly concern into her voice. “I don’t suppose you’ve noticed any of that here, have you?”

  “Oh, but everyone loves her,” said the girl, eyes wide and innocent. “She’s so wonderful, so elegant, so amazing in every way. The people who say bad things about her should be ashamed of themselves. They don’t know her the way that I do.” She clasped a hand to her face. “I didn’t mean to sound so…”

  “No, that’s fine. I’m just worried about my cousin, that’s all. And if there’s anyone out there who means her harm, I think it’s important to know.”

  “Of course.”

  “In America we have a lot of crackpots,” Chase explained. “Nutjobs who wouldn’t hesitate to take a potshot at a celebrity like Tessa. It’s so great that you don’t have that kind of thing going on over here.”

  “Oh, but we do. I’ve heard people say nasty things about the Duchess. Whenever I hear a comment like that I always remind them the Duke is very lucky to have her, and so are we. Before he met her, the Duke was a little bit of a wild child. A real party prince. He used to get into so much trouble.” She smiled shyly. “I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t say things like that.”

  “Oh, no, that’s fine. I think it’s great that you defend them like that,” said Odelia. “So the people who say these bad things, are they here in the house?”

  Suzy darted a quick look behind her, then lowered her voice. “Cook says the most horrible things behind the Duchess’s back.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “Don’t tell her I said this, but she told me she thinks the Duchess is entirely too arrogant for her own good and someone should teach her a lesson.”

  “The cook said that?”

  Suzy nodded. “She thinks the Duchess doesn’t appreciate her. She also says the Duke was much better off without her, and I always tell her that’s a lie. The Duke has finally become a man. Before, he was just a boy. A very silly boy.” She smiled “And now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go check on the others.”

  “Of course,” said Odelia. “Thanks, Suzy. And don’t worry. Whatever you tell me stays between us, all right?”

  Suzy gave her a quick nod and then scooted off, obviously embarrassed about the things she’d allowed herself to divulge to a total stranger.

  Odelia turned to Chase. “So the cook, huh?”

  “It’s always the cook that did it,” he said laconically. “Or is it the butler?”

  Chapter 10

  Dooley and I were sneaking down the corridor. We were on a mission—a mission of the utmost importance. I was feeling like one of those soldiers who are tasked with the smuggling of important letters or instructions across enemy lines. Only the enemy lines in this particular place weren’t that easy to pinpoint. The enemy was an unknown, and he or she could strike at any moment. I, for one, couldn’t understand how Tessa could remain so calm under the circumstances. If someone was trying to kill me by dropping stones on my head and poisoning my tea I’d probably freak out and run for the hills.

  But here she was, bravely staying put and facing her attacker.

  We finally arrived at Tessa and Dante’s room, and I saw we were in luck: the door was ajar. So we snuck inside and proceeded into the room. Like Odelia’s and Chase’s, this had once been the province of a single staff member, and had since been turned into spacious and comfortable lodgings for the royal couple. A connecting door led to what I assumed was the nursery, as I could hear baby noises. Tessa and Dante were in there, a TV playing in the bedroom.

  The target of our mission wasn’t present, though—or at least not as far as I could tell from a first cursory examination of the room. And then I saw him—or her? Fluffy was lounging in an overstuffed chair, intently watching the screen, where the news of the day was playing. An earthquake in Turkey, an oil spill in the Gulf, and war in West-Africa. Not much news on the news.

  “Psst,” I whispered.

  “Psst,” Dooley echoed.

  “Hey. You. Dog.”

  “Fluffy!”

  The English bulldog looked down and studied us with interest.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “As you can see I’m working on my general education. What’s up with you? And why are you whispering?”

  “We wanted to have a quick word before everyone retired for the night.”

  “Oh, of course. What do you want to talk about? The weather? The economy? Or would you prefer some gossip hot from the gossip mill?”

  “I’ll have some gossip hot from the gossip mill please,” said Dooley.

  “Please be quiet, Dooley,” I said. “Let me handle the negotiations.”

  “Oh, all right,” Dooley said, and plunked himself down in front of the TV.

  “I don’t know if anybody has told you this,” I began, “but Odelia is not actually a cousin of Tessa’s. In fact they’re no relation at all.”

  “Oh?” said the dog, visibly intrigued by this denouement.

  “Odelia is an amateur sleuth, and Chase is a cop. They’re here to investigate an incident that took place when a rock almost fell on top of Tessa.”

  “By the way,” said Dooley. “Are you a boy or a girl, Fluffy?”

  “A girl, of course. Can’t you tell?”

  Dooley shook his head. “Not really.”

  Subtlety has never been Dooley’s strong suit.

  “Anyway,” I said, trying to get the conversation back on track. “So about that incident with the ball of stone dropping down from a great height…”

  Fluffy shivered. “Oh, I was there. It was horrible. Absolutely ghastly.”

  “I can only imagine. And the tea incident? Were you there for that as well?”

  She nodded slowly. “How do you know about all this?”

  “We have our sources,” said Dooley. “And I’m afraid they’re classified.”

  “No, they’re not,” I said, hoping Dooley would stop sabotaging the invest
igation. “Our source is Angela. She and Tessa are trying to figure out what’s going on.”

  “What’s going on is that someone is trying to murder my human, cat.”

  “You can call me Max.”

  “And I’m Dooley,” said Dooley, in case Fluffy hadn’t caught on.

  “So… if your human is an amateur sleuth, does that make you cat sleuths?”

  “That’s classified,” said Dooley.

  “No, it’s not. Yes, we are cat sleuths. We help Odelia solve murders and other crimes. By going where no human has gone before.”

  “Mars?”

  “Places where humans don’t usually go, like back alleys, and the nooks and crannies where only strange creatures stir.” And strange dogs.

  “You make it sound so exciting,” said Fluffy.

  “Well, it is. And dangerous, of course,” I said. “You wouldn’t believe how many dangers my fellow cats and I have braved to help our dear human.”

  Okay, so maybe I was laying it on a bit thick, but I like to think I was doing it in service of my mission: to get this mutt’s full participation.

  “So what do you want me to do?” Fluffy asked.

  “I want you to think hard and tell me who might be behind these attacks.”

  She thought hard, judging from the wrinkles on her face—well, more wrinkles than usual, I mean.

  “The stone,” I said when nothing seemed forthcoming. “Think back to that stone dropping. Did you see anyone on the roof? Pushing that stone down?”

  She shook her head, eyes squeezed tightly shut now. “I only had eyes for my human, and that horrible stone that nearly crushed her to death.”

  “So you didn’t look up?”

  She shook her head again.

  “What about the tea?”

  “What about the tea?”

  “Do you like tea?” asked Dooley.

  “Not particularly, no,” said the dog.

  “Oh. I thought, you being English and all, you’d love tea.”

  “Dooley,” I said warningly.

  “Just establishing Fluffy’s frame of mind,” said Dooley.

  I tamped down a groan. “Tessa was given a cup of tea laced with Belladonna. Do you have any idea who might have poured her that tea?”

  “Cook,” Fluffy said instantly. “That’s the only person I can think of.”

  Now we were getting somewhere.

  “Who brought her the tea?”

  “Suzy. The maid.”

  “She could have dumped that poison in.”

  “She seems like a nice person, this Suzy,” Dooley commented. “Just saying,” he added when I gave him a censorious look.

  “She is nice,” Fluffy agreed. “Which is why she would never poison Tessa’s tea. Suzy is devoted to Tessa.”

  “See?” said Dooley. “She has a nice face. Not the face of a killer.”

  “And how would you know what a killer’s face looks like?” I asked.

  “Killers are mean—they have mean faces. Suzy has a nice face.”

  There was no arguing with Dooley, so I decided to ignore him. “What about this cook person?” I asked.

  “Yes, well. Cook doesn’t like Tessa. Never has. Whenever I’m in the kitchen prancing around all she does is complain about Tessa. On and on it goes. Quite galling. Not at all pleasant to hear someone badmouth your human like that.”

  “What does she say?”

  “That Tessa is arrogant, thinks she knows best, always interferes with her work—Cook’s work, I mean. Tessa has very particular ideas about the food she eats. What she considers healthy choices. So she gives precise instructions what to cook for her and Dante. In fact she’s in the kitchen all the time, trying out new recipes, using the blender to make green smoothies for herself and her husband, experimenting with different ingredients and recipes.”

  “And Cook doesn’t like that.”

  “Oh, she hates it. Says she’s never worked for anyone as prissy and utterly demanding as Tessa, which I’m sure is simply not true.”

  “Do you think she hates her enough to try and murder her?”

  Fluffy thought hard again, screwing up her face so much her nose disappeared between her eyebrows, then reemerged when she opened her mouth to speak. “I’m not sure,” she said finally. “I’ve seen my fair share of Sherlock Holmes on TV, and even Father Brown. But it’s hard to determine who the killer is, if you can’t actually see them do it, if you see what I mean.”

  “Those TV detectives are all very clever,” I agreed. “In real life it’s a lot harder to figure out whodunit.”

  “Exactly. They make it look so easy.”

  “They do make it look easy,” said Dooley. “Like Aurora Teagarden. I like Aurora Teagarden,” he explained. “She’s a librarian and she’s very pretty.”

  Fluffy and I waited for him to tell us more about Aurora Teagarden and why he liked her so much but this seemed to be the extent of his remarks on the subject. So I thanked Fluffy, figuring I’d elicited all the information I could expect, and would have retreated back to the safety of Odelia’s room if Dante hadn’t waltzed in from the nursery and closed the door, cutting off our line of retreat!

  “I can’t believe this!” he was shouting. “You do this every time!”

  “Keep your voice down! You’ll wake up Silvy!” Tessa hissed.

  Oh, heck. We’d just landed ourselves in the middle of a domestic dispute!

  Chapter 11

  Dooley and I had crawled under the sofa, not wanting to be seen trespassing, and had a worm’s-eye view of both Fluffy and the quarreling couple. Fluffy, who seemed to have resigned herself to the quarrel, watched the news, from time to time darting an anxious look at her owners, then down to us, as if to say: ‘Can you believe this?’

  I could—even though I didn’t want to!

  “Oh, this is rich,” said Dante once Tessa had closed to the door to the nursery. “First you tell me I can’t go to the pub and now you’re telling me I can’t even invite a mate over for a quiet drink? You’re too much, Tessa.”

  “You know as well as I do that it won’t be quiet for very long when Damien drops by.”

  “I never see the bloke anymore!”

  “You told me yourself you needed to grow up. That things were different now that Silvy is in our lives. That Damien doesn’t fit with the Dante you want to be.”

  “He’s been my best mate since we were kids!”

  “So go and see him! But not at the pub. You know what people will say.”

  “People talk regardless of what I do. So do I have to stay cooped up in here for the rest of my life? I didn’t sign up to be a recluse, Tessa. I’m too young to turn into one of those long-bearded blokes who shuffle around in their PJs with crumbs caked to their face and hair growing out of every orifice.”

  Tessa stared at him for a moment, then couldn’t keep a straight face and neither could he. They both burst out laughing, and soon were wiping away tears.

  “Are they crying now?” asked Dooley.

  “They’re tears of laughter,” I explained.

  “I don’t get it. Can you laugh and cry at the same time?”

  “Humans can. They laugh so hard they get teary-eyed. It’s true,” I added when he gave me a skeptical look.

  “It’s true,” Fluffy said from the couch. “Humans are weird.”

  That, they definitely were.

  “I’m sorry,” said Dante. “But the beard thing could actually happen.”

  “I know, right!” said Tessa. “It could happen to me, too. You’d have a bearded lady for a wife.”

  “I like to think I’d love you even if you did grow a beard,” he said, taking her into his arms.

  She put up a token resistance, then said, grinning, “I think I’d rather fancy you with a beard.”

  “One of them long and tangled ones?”

  “With the crumbs tacked to your face.”

  “Oh, puh-lease,” said Fluffy, but to Dante and Tessa it must have sounded
like a bark, for they both looked up and laughed.

  “See?” said Tessa. “Even Fluffy thinks you should grow a beard.”

  “Oh, no, I don’t,” said Fluffy. “I hate bearded blokes. So tickly.”

  “Maybe I will,” said Dante.

  “Please don’t!” said Fluffy.

  “Is that a threat or a promise?” asked Tessa.

  “I meant it as a threat, actually.”

  “To me it sounded like a promise.”

  Kissing ensued, as it invariably does in these types of situations, and Dooley and I turned away, as did Fluffy. Us pets aren’t into mushiness.

  “Dante doesn’t look like a man trying to murder his wife,” said Dooley, and for once I had to admit he’d hit the nail on the head. Unless Dante was a great actor, he genuinely appeared to love his wife.

  “I think we can remove Dante from our list of suspects,” I said.

  From the next room, crying could be heard, and both parents hurried over.

  We could have used this as our chance to escape, if only the door hadn’t been closed shut. And from where we sat, I didn’t see any other means of escape, either.

  “Psst,” said Fluffy suddenly.

  “We’re stuck here!” I told her.

  “I know! I have an idea!”

  She then started barking loudly, jumped down from the couch and moved to the door. The barking intensified, and was now accompanied by a frenzied scratching of the door.

  “All right, all right,” said Dante, as he came running. “Gotta go, sweetie?”

  “Yes, please,” said Fluffy.

  Dante grabbed a leash from the credenza, hooked it into Fluffy’s collar, and opened the door.

  Fluffy turned to us and winked, indicating this was our chance!

  So we took it. Moving like the wind—or at least two cats intent on escaping—we were through that door and out into the living area like a flash!

  “Thanks, Fluffy!” I yelled over my shoulder.

  “Yes, thank you so much, Fluffy!” Dooley chimed in.

  “You’re welcome!” the dog yelled back.

 

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