by Nic Saint
He didn’t get far, though, for a similar Range Rover to ours suddenly materialized, tires screeching as it pulled to a stop, then Chase jumped out! After a short chase, Chase tackled the guy and wrestled him to the ground.
“That’s Chase!” cried Brutus. “That’s my human!”
Odelia then came running in our direction, opened the door and, with tears in her eyes, said, “You guys—are you all right?”
And I have to admit I got a little teary, too, as we all jumped into her arms.
“Drama queens,” said Sweetie.
“I think it’s pretty sweet,” said Fräulein.
Chapter 27
“Did you see the man’s face?” asked Odelia.
Max shook his head. “I’m afraid I didn’t.”
The others all shook their heads, too. They hadn’t seen the man either.
“What about the corgis?”
The corgis were being checked out by a doctor, but so far they seemed to be fine. The kidnapper, a low-level career criminal, had been contacted by the unknown man a couple of days ago. The scheme he proposed was simple: dress up like one of the royal drivers, and use any opportunity to kidnap the royal dog. Of course the crook had bungled the thing by kidnapping the corgis instead. He’d figured three royal dogs was better than one. Apparently not.
They were on a stretch of road very light on traffic, parked on the shoulder in the middle of nowhere. All around there was only greenery. No houses. No sign of civilization except for the asphalt, and the gravel of the shoulder.
She watched as Max approached the corgis, then returned a few moments later. “They are so hard to talk to,” he said with a sigh. “Cocky, you know.”
“Cocky corgis?” said Odelia with a grin. “That sounds like a book title.”
“Well, anyway, Fräulein is not as cocky as her colleagues, and she claims the man looked familiar, though she doesn’t know who he is, either.”
“But she saw his face?”
“Briefly. They were sitting closer to him when he looked in on us.”
“Did they describe him?”
“Medium height and build. Average features. Sweetie thinks he was blond, Fräulein claims he was brown, Molly swears he was black going on gray.”
“You could ask a sketch artist,” said Harriet. “You did that once before, remember?”
Odelia did remember, only she’d been home in Hampton Cove that time, and her uncle had officiated the proceedings. Gran had pretended to be the witness, while being fed information by the actual witness, a cat named Big Mac. This time it would be practically impossible to pull off the same stunt: the corgis would have to talk to Max, who’d have to translate, so she could describe the kidnapper to the sketch artist. And she couldn’t even reasonably claim she’d actually seen the man, as they’d only arrived after he left.
“Sweetie did say he had a babyface, though Molly claims he had a long, thin face. They didn’t notice eye color or any other particular details.”
“An ordinary-looking man trying to abduct Tessa’s dog,” she said musingly.
“Could it be the same person who’s been trying to kill her?” asked Brutus.
“Could be,” she admitted.
“Aren’t there any cameras around here?” asked Max.
She glanced around, and caught sight of Chase, who was still talking to the police. He was the hero of the hour. The man who’d taken down the kidnapper. “I doubt it,” she said. Unless someone had fastened a camera to a tree. The kidnapper wasn’t stupid. He picked this place for a reason.
Chase came jogging up. “It’s in the hands of the police now,” he said. “I’m sure they know what they’re doing. They were surprised when I told them I’m a cop myself.” He waved as the cop car sped by, the kidnapper in the back.
“That guy just became public enemy number one,” said Odelia.
“He claims he doesn’t know who the client was. He was contacted by text, and only met the guy for the first time today.”
“So what did he look like, this mystery man?”
“Medium build, medium height, average face… He was wearing a ball cap to partially obscure his features.”
“Hair color?”
“He figures the man was bald, hence the ball cap.”
Odelia groaned in frustration. Four witnesses and four different descriptions.
“Let’s get back to the cottage,” said Chase. “We don’t want to keep Her Royal Highness waiting.”
The Queen, in a highly unusual initiative, had instructed Odelia and Chase to return her precious corgis. Apparently she didn’t trust anyone at this point, and Chase and Odelia were, after all, highly regarded by Tessa and Dante.
The corgis had been checked out, and were returned to the Queen’s Range Rover. This time Chase took the wheel, while Bart took the wheel of the second Rover, and together they drove back to the cottage, Chase following behind Bart, who knew the way—or had a good command of the royal GPS.
“I’m so glad he didn’t sell us to the highest bidder,” said Harriet from the backseat.
“I’m glad, too,” said Odelia.
“He was going to keep Max,” said Dooley. “He liked him because he’s red and fat.”
Odelia smiled. “Max isn’t fat and he isn’t red. He’s big-boned and blorange. Isn’t that right, Max?” When Max didn’t respond, she looked over. The little guy had tears in his eyes. “Oh, sweetie,” she said, and took him on her lap.
“I love you, Odelia,” Max breathed, choking up.
“And I love you, sweetie,” she said, and gave him a cuddle.
“Oh, get a room,” said Molly.
“Did she just call my name?” asked Sweetie.
“She said ‘sweetie,’ not ‘Sweetie,’” said Fräulein.
“Did you tell your human this kidnapper guy was going to sell us to the ruler of Dubai?” asked Molly. “Which wouldn’t have been all that bad.”
“I think all’s well that ends well,” said Fräulein.
“I guess so,” said Molly, a little dejected. Apparently she’d been looking forward to her Dubai adventure.
“You were never going to be sold to anyone,” I said. “The kidnapper wanted to kidnap Fluffy as a way of getting back at Tessa.”
“Such bad taste,” said Sweetie, shaking her head at so much foolishness.
“Someone’s been trying to hurt Tessa for days. And it’s very well possible that they planned to use Fluffy to lure Tessa into a trap.”
“Smart thinking, Max,” said Odelia. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Was the Queen worried about us?” asked Molly.
I translated her words for Odelia’s sake.
“The Queen was worried sick,” she said.
“Oh,” said Molly, and thought for a moment. “I like the Queen,” she said finally. “She’s been very good to us over the years.”
“She has,” confirmed Sweetie. “I’m actually glad we weren’t sold to Dubai.”
“How about you, Odelia?” asked Dooley. “Did you miss us?”
She smiled. “Of course. I wouldn’t have known what to do if something had happened to you. I love you guys so, so much.”
The corgis were speechless. “Does she really mean that?” asked Sweetie.
I relayed the message and Odelia responded, “Of course. They’re my babies.”
“Mh,” said Molly, as if she found it hard to believe anyone could care that much for a cat.
“I guess we learned a valuable lesson today,” said Fräulein.
“What’s that?” asked Sweetie.
“That you two knuckleheads are even dumber than I thought. And that humans love their cats, too.”
“Thank you for coming to find us, Odelia,” I said.
“Oh, Maxie,” she said, and tickled my belly until ï fell off her lap laughing.
Even the corgis joined in at some point, proving that even snooty dogs can get unsnootied when pushed.
Chapter 28
&n
bsp; They were all gathered in the war room—actually Dante and Tessa’s office. Present were Dante, Tessa and Angela, Odelia, Chase and Gran, and Tessa’s cousin Nesbit. The Queen had left with her entourage and her corgis, happy to return to the safety of Buckingham Palace. The events of the past few hours had shaken the monarch to the core, and it was obvious Dante and Tessa felt guilty about the whole thing. After all, the kidnapper had targeted Fluffy, and not the corgis.
“My grandmother is still convinced the kidnappers were targeting her corgis, and not Fluffy,” said the Duke now. “There have been plots to kidnap them before, but this is the first time an attempt actually succeeded. Almost.”
“Have they caught the guy who gave the kidnap order?” asked Odelia.
Tessa’s cousin shook his head. “Not yet. They’ll catch him sooner or later, though.”
“No security cameras, right?” said Chase.
“None. They picked a great spot to skedaddle.”
“Too bad the whole episode spooked the Queen,” said Gran. “We were really bonding there. Do you think the chances of her dropping by for another visit are high, medium or rare?”
“Non-existent,” said Dante dryly. “She’s never coming back here—at least not in the foreseeable future. Gran loves those corgis almost as much, or maybe even more, than her own offspring, so to return to the place where they were snatched is not going to hold a lot of appeal to her.”
“Nuts,” grumbled Gran, whose hopes of learning at the knee of the master had received a powerful blow.
“So let’s discuss theories,” said Tessa, getting back to the nub of the thing. She directed her next question to her cousin. “Who do you think is responsible for these attacks, Nesbit? What do your colleagues think?”
“My colleagues think most likely this is the work of a disgruntled employee.” He took out a notebook. “I’ve compiled a list of all the people who’ve worked for you, past and present. One of them must be behind this whole thing. I’ve cross-referenced with the people present at the Summer Show, the homeless shelter, and of course here at the house. When the tea incident happened, Suzy was there, and so were your cook Carolyn and personal assistant Sherri. At the Summer Show, Sherri was present, but she wasn’t at the homeless shelter and neither was Carolyn. Only Suzy was there.”
“There are others,” said Tessa, and brought out her phone. “I’ve compiled my own list of people who seem to resent me to the extent they might want to harm me.” She cleared her throat and gave her husband a weary look. “You’re not going to like this, Dante.”
“I think I can take it,” said the Duke.
“Your brother and his wife, your friend Damien and his cronies. And of course your ex-girlfriends Chrissie, Missy and Sissy. None of them like me very much, and all of them have expressed, veiled or unveiled, the notion that I stole you away from them, which makes me their mortal enemy.”
“That’s ludicrous,” said Dante. “I broke up with them a long time ago. When we met I’d been single for months.”
“Still. They hate my guts, and so do your brother and his wife.”
“Nonsense. Jennie and Jeremy adore you.”
“Yeah, right. That’s why they referred to me as ‘that horrible woman’ at your aunt Caroline’s reception last month. I happened to overhear them.”
“Well, you must have heard wrong.”
“Don’t forget your grandmother, Dante,” said Angela. “I know Tessa is too kind to mention her but she’s definitely on my list of suspects.”
“My grandmother? Really, Angela?”
“The Queen is notoriously averse to scandal. A divorce is the last thing she wants, so if she were to get rid of Tessa the only option would be to make it look like an accident. She could have put someone on staff here to do the dirty work,” she added when Dante made protesting noises.
“Nonsense. My gran has been nothing but supportive of Tessa from the first. In fact she’s told me on more than one occasion how happy she is that I finally found a life partner. She was worried before, and is over the moon now. Especially after the birth of Silvy. She absolutely adores her great-grandchild.”
“So what about this Damien character?” asked Chase.
Dante hesitated. “Damien is... disappointed that I’m not the friend I used to be. And of course he blames Tessa to some extent, but in equal measure he blames me. Deep down, though, I think he knows that change is inevitable, and that he can’t expect the father of a newborn to hit the clubs hard every night. He also knows he has to settle down himself eventually, and he’s rebelling. He would never harm Tessa. I vouch for the bloke. He’s a good egg.”
“So that leaves us with…” Odelia consulted her own list. “You haven’t mentioned the nanny yet.”
“She wasn’t anywhere near the Summer Show, or the homeless shelter,” said Nesbit. “She also wasn’t at the house when the tea thing happened. She’d gone home.”
“What about the housekeeper?” Odelia remembered she’d kicked out her cats the night before, which of course didn’t mean she was a killer, but still.
“She was here when the tea incident happened, but she didn’t attend the Summer Show, and she wasn’t at the homeless shelter this morning.”
“So where does that leave us?” asked Angela.
“Nowhere,” said Gran.
Tessa threw up her hands. “This is crazy. Someone is trying to kill me and we’re just going around in circles. This person might very well be on the verge of striking again and we’re simply getting nowhere.”
“Have you examined the bullet that grazed Tessa’s cheek?” asked Chase.
“We have—in all discretion. It was fired from a Glock 17, probably procured on the black market, as ownership of handguns is tightly regulated.”
“I think we should let the police handle things from now on,” said Dante, voicing an opinion he’d expressed before. “All this cloak and dagger stuff is all very exciting, but they have the resources and the experience to handle the investigation the way it should have been handled from the start.”
“You seem to forget that all members of our protection team are police officers,” said Tessa. “They’re more than qualified to deal with this.”
“After three botched attempts on your life and one dognapping excuse me if I have my doubts about their professionalism, Tessa. I think they should all go and be replaced by an entirely new team. No offense, Nesbit.”
“None taken,” said Odelia’s cousin. “They’re good guys, all of them, dedicated to your family, but whoever is behind this is a slippery bastard.”
“Give us one more chance,” said Odelia. “I know we can find this guy.”
Dante wavered, but Tessa was giving him a pleading look and finally he relented. “All right, fine. One more day. But if by tomorrow evening you don’t have a solid lead, I’m bringing Scotland Yard into the picture. This has got to stop, Tessa. I won’t let you put yourself in harm’s way like this.”
“Odelia will find out what ’s going on,” said Tessa, with a conviction Odelia herself wasn’t feeling.
One more day. She needed to get her act together and get to the bottom of this thing or else they were all on the next plane back to Hampton Cove, or worse, the next attempt on Tessa’s life would be successful. And she would never forgive herself if that happened.
A child started crying in the next room, and Tessa got up. She placed a hand on Odelia’s shoulder. “I trust you, Odelia. You can do this.”
If only she felt as confident in her abilities as Tessa did…
Chapter 29
While the humans were all ensconced in a room discussing the recent dramatic events, I was wandering the house and wondering how to contribute to the unraveling of the mystery. Frankly I didn’t have a lot to contribute. As far as I could tell anyone could have kidnapped us. And it wasn’t anyone we’d met so far.
So I decided to give the investigation a rest for now, and await further instructions from sleuth-in-charge Odeli
a.
And as I was pottering to and fro, trying to find that perfect spot to take a well-deserved nap, I was softly humming a little tune to myself. It’s my habit to sing, not when I’m in the shower, for as you may or may not know, cats don’t enjoy taking showers, but to aid the thinking process. Also, I’m something of a songbird. What can I say—I just enjoy the joy of singing!
Dooley, who was sampling a spot on the couch in front of the big television set, winced as I passed and sang my few bars.
Harriet, who was inspecting a nice throw pillow on the second couch, likewise screwed up her face and gave me a long, lingering look that didn’t harbor a lot of warmth and appreciation for livening up her day with song.
Brutus, who was eyeing a shelf laden with knickknacks, thinking up ways and means of making the jump and lounging there for a while, shook his head. “Can you please stop that racket? I can’t hear myself think.”
“It is a little annoying,” agreed Fluffy, who, as queen of the castle, had reserved the prime spot all to herself: a basket on the floor near the window, where she had a great overview both of the goings-on inside and outside.
“I was just humming a gay little tune,” I said defensively.
“We need to continue our lessons, Max,” Harriet said now. “And we might as well do it now, as there seems to be a lull in the investigation.”
A lull was right. It would appear that none of the humans had a clue how to proceed in catching this dastardly demon who was gunning for lovely Tessa.
“Oh, great,” I said, not expecting this. “I would love to put in some more practice.”
That way, when we finally got back from our trip overseas, I could be reinstated as a full-blown and appreciated member of cat choir once more. Maybe I could even induce Shanille to let me sing a solo. Singing solos, it would appear, is what being part of a choir is all about: it lends one prestige and makes one the standard-bearer of the group, if one catches my meaning.
“Where do you want me to sit?” I asked. “Near the window? Or maybe higher? For the acoustics,” I clarified. “It’s very important to have great acoustics when you’re singing. It gives it that little extra oomph your musical aficionado wants.”