by Nic Saint
Chase nodded. “If you think this will work…”
“Leave it to me. My daughter happens to be a reporter for the Hampton Cove Gazette and one of the best gossips this town has ever known. She takes after her grandmother that way. There’s not a single rumor she’s not aware of, and plenty she’s instigated herself. I don’t know how she does it, but she always seems to know everything about everybody and often before anyone else does. If she takes up your case, your worries are over, son.”
Chase looked thoughtful. “Your daughter, is she blond with green eyes?”
“That’s her. Have you met?”
He grimaced. “We have, and I’m afraid we got off on the wrong foot.”
“Nonsense,” said Tex. “No one can get off on the wrong foot with Odelia. She’s sweet as a kitten. Whatever little trouble you had will go away once you’ve sat down for dinner together. You are still coming to dinner, right?”
“Um…”
“Excellent. My wife told me how she told her brother to invite you.”
Chase rose, looking thoughtful. He appeared on the verge of saying something, but then decided against it. “Thanks, Doc. Thanks for listening.”
“Of course,” Tex said, clapping the other man on his broad back and leading him out. “Trust me, before long you and Odelia will get along great.”
Chase’s eyes darkened at the mention of the reporter, and I had the distinct impression he wasn’t as fond of her as Tex would have liked. Which was probably a good thing, as I didn’t want the two of them hooking up. Still, the conversation had definitely made me see Chase in a whole new light. The guy wasn’t so bad after all. The only thing I now held against him was his lousy taste in cats, but that wasn’t something he could be faulted for. Humans are easily deceived, especially the ones who can’t communicate with us.
Dooley and I shared a look. “That changes everything, doesn’t it?” I said.
“Sure does,” Dooley agreed.
“Just goes to show you can’t believe everything you read in the paper.”
“I knew he was a good guy. I just knew it.”
“No, you didn’t. You thought he was bad news. We all did.”
“Well, it still doesn’t make the prospect of Brutus coming to live with us any better,” Dooley said as we hopped down from the windowsill and started padding toward the front of the building again.
“Didn’t you hear the guy? He and Odelia hate each other’s guts.”
“Oh. Right. So that’s a good thing, huh?”
“That’s a great thing. It’s probably one of those instant enmities.”
“Instant enemas?”
I heaved a sigh. “What’s with the poo fixation?”
“Huh?”
“Enmity, not enema. It’s like instant attraction but the other way around.”
He still looked puzzled. “Uh-huh.”
“It happens. And a good thing, too.”
We walked on in silence for a few minutes, then Dooley asked, “Are you sure about those enemas? Chase Kingsley didn’t strike me as constipated.”
I rolled my eyes heavenward. God, please kill me now.
Chapter 9
Odelia quickly made her way over to the No Spring Chicks restaurant. She walked in and immediately crossed to the kitchen, where she knew she’d find Aissa. Even though the restaurant was doing great, and Aissa nor Marissa had to slave behind the stove anymore but now had a chef to do the heavy lifting, Aissa still liked to stick around keeping an eye on things. At this time she could usually be found experimenting with new recipes and adding those to the menu, while Marissa was holed up in the small office in the back, going over the books. She was the money person, while Aissa was more the creative and culinary genius.
She found Aissa in the big walk-in freezer, instructing the delivery man where to stash the fresh produce. She looked up when Odelia entered.
“Hey, hon,” she said. “If you’re here for a reservation I’m sorry to say we’re fully booked tonight. Though I could always squeeze you in around eleven, if you’re up for a later dinner.”
“That’s all right. I’m having dinner at my parents’ place tonight.”
“Nothing beats a home-cooked meal,” said Aissa blithely as she wiped her hands on her apron and stepped out of the freezer. She was a stickler for detail, which was one of the reasons No Spring Chicks was such a hit.
A short plump woman with a black bob, she reminded Odelia of the women manning the cafeteria counter at Hampton Cove High, who’d always been ready to ladle extra gravy onto her hash browns and provide her with an extra dollop of creamy mashed potatoes.
“So what can I do for you?” asked Aissa, and then her eyes fell on the notebook Odelia was clutching in her hand. “Oh, official business, huh?” Her eyes lit up. “You’re doing another story on No Spring Chicks? That’s great! Last time you did one, our reservations tripled, so keep it coming, hon.”
“Well, actually I’m doing a piece on the murder of Paulo Frey,” she said.
The smile instantly vanished from Aissa’s face as if wiped away with a squeegee. “Yeah, I heard about that. Found him in the crapper, huh?”
She grimaced. “I take it he wasn’t your favorite person in the world?”
“Not really. In fact it’s safe to say Marissa and I kinda hated the guy.”
At least she wasn’t holding back, Odelia thought. “And why was that?”
Aissa led her through the kitchen and into the restaurant, where they took a seat at a table near the window. The place was still empty, as preparations for lunch were yet to begin. “Well, I actually liked the guy at first. When I heard he took the Writer’s Lodge, Marissa and I were excited. We’d both been reading him for years. I mean, he wrote some great books.”
“I know. I’ve read some of his stuff. The guy could write a mean thriller.”
“The operative word is mean,” said Aissa, cocking an eyebrow.
“Meaning?”
“He had a real mean streak. It’s not something I was aware of at the time, and you certainly wouldn’t have known from his books, but Paulo Frey was a homophobe. That guy simply hated gays with a vengeance. When he discovered me and Marissa were an item, he blew a gasket. Made a scene right here in the middle of the restaurant, the place full of diners. Said we were a disgrace to humankind, and that he’d never set foot in here again, and invited everyone else to follow his example and walk out as well.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. It was horrible. For a moment we both feared that everyone would do as he said, but luckily nobody seemed to care that their food was being prepared by two women who happened to be in love. So when he saw that his little temper tantrum was met with eye rolls and shrugs, he stomped out, vowing to destroy us and all of our kind before he was through.”
“A real hater, huh? Who would have thought?”
“It blew us away. How such a vile man could write such great books…”
“So what happened then?”
She waved her hand. “He started spreading rumors around town that our food was poisoned, and that we were the worst cooks in the world. He even called the Food Safety and Inspection people on us. Twice. Luckily we run a clean ship around here, and they didn’t shut us down.”
“I wonder why I never heard about this?”
“Probably because none of the locals bought his crap. He was trying to rile up the tourist crowd, and doing a damn good job, for our business effectively started to slow down. Which is when we talked to your uncle.”
“And he put a stop to the nonsense.”
“That wonderful man drove straight up to the Writer’s Lodge and told Frey that if he ever pulled a stunt like that again he’d personally drive him out of town.”
“Tarred and feathered?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” laughed Aissa. “I don’t know what else he said, but it did the trick. The rumors stopped, and the customers returned.”
“Except Paulo Frey.”
<
br /> “He wouldn’t have been welcome here anyway. Not after what he put us through. That man is a vile monster. Or at least he was,” she said, sobered when she remembered the reason for this interview.
“I can understand how you felt that way,” said Odelia, jotting down notes.
“And I wasn’t the only one either.”
“What do you mean?”
“I heard later that he did the same thing to Gabby Cleret.”
“The actress?”
Aissa nodded. “Drove her to a nervous breakdown.”
Before Odelia could get into this, suddenly a shadow loomed over them.
“Aissa Spring?” the new arrival asked. And when she looked up, Odelia couldn’t help but notice that the newcomer was giving her a nasty look.
“That’s me,” said Aissa. “And you are?”
“Detective Chase Kingsley,” Chase said, producing a shiny new badge. “Hampton Cove Police. Can I have a word? When you’re quite finished with Miss Poole, that is.” At this, he gave Odelia another of his trademark scowls.
Aissa grinned. “My sordid past is finally catching up with me, huh?”
Odelia laughed. “Don’t worry, hon. Your sordid past is safe with me.” She didn’t know why she said that, but she suddenly felt like protecting Aissa against this overbearing policeman. As he apparently had a history of violence against female suspects, she felt she needed to stay put and make sure nothing happened. So she returned Chase’s scowl and added some heat. “It’s not because Aissa had a dispute with Frey that she’s automatically guilty, Detective.”
“Oh, I see you’ve decided to become a homicide detective now,” he said, gritting his teeth. He was still towering over them, blocking out the sun.
She got up and walked up to the man. “I’m simply doing my job as a reporter,” she said, going toe-to-toe with him. But since he had at least a foot on her, she had to crane her neck, which wasn’t helping. And then there was the fact that he was wearing a very powerful cologne that assaulted her senses. Only now did she become aware of his overpowering masculinity.
Why hadn’t she noticed this in Uncle Alec’s office? Probably because she hadn’t been quite this close to him. He was staring down at her, his icy blue eyes boring into hers, his granite face implacable, his battering ram of a chin even more impressive up close and personal. Detective Kingsley was a bad, bad man, and she owed it to Hampton Cove to expose him, but he was also a very attractive man, and she now experienced the full effect of his presence.
“This is a murder investigation, Miss Poole,” he growled. “And you’d be well advised not to insert yourself into the investigation. You might get hurt.”
“Is that a threat, Detective Kingsley?”
“A fair warning, Miss Poole. Murder investigations tend to get sticky.”
“I’m a reporter, Detective. It’s my job to report on any crime that takes place in my town. I’m sure my uncle explained all this to you.”
“He did, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I agree with him,” he grunted.
“Well, you’d better get used to it.” She would have added he wasn’t going to be in town long enough to learn all the ins and outs of the way they did things around here, but bit her tongue. The story of Detective Kingsley’s wrongdoings was one she’d crack once Frey’s murderer had been caught.
While this battle of wills took place, Aissa had sat motionless. Now she noisily cleared her throat. “Did you have a question for me, Detective?”
Chase finally dragged his eyes away from Odelia’s and nodded. “I did. Where were you on the night of September sixteen last year, Miss Spring?”
This surprised Odelia. “Have you determined the time of death?”
Chase’s jaw worked as he studiously chose to ignore her. “I realize it’s been a long time, but try to throw your mind back. It’s important. I’m sure Miss Poole told you all about the murder of Mr. Frey by now, and the fact that we need to interview anyone who’s ever been at odds with the victim.”
“Yes, she did,” said Aissa, with a quick look at Odelia.
From her part, Odelia was standing her ground, her arms folded across her chest. Even though it was clear Chase wanted her to leave, she refused to.
“You probably heard about our little feud?” asked Aissa sheepishly.
“I did,” confirmed Chase. “Chief Alec told me how you pressed charges against Paulo Frey after he threatened to close down your restaurant and made a real stink about the fact that you and Miss Marissa are… an item.”
“I was just telling Odelia what a terrible ordeal the whole thing was, and how we were worried that Frey might succeed in closing us down. Luckily Chief Alec stepped into the breach and smoothed things over. After that, Frey gave No Spring Chicks a wide berth every time he came into town.”
“How did you determine the time of death?” Odelia insisted. She’d already scribbled down the date in her little notebook: September sixteen.
But Chase merely stared at Aissa, who realized she still hadn’t answered the cop’s question. “Oh, right,” she said, quickly getting up and hurrying over to the counter. She picked up a large ledger and started flipping through it until she reached the chosen date. “The sixteenth…” she muttered, letting her finger slide down the items on the page. “Oh. Of course. We hosted the mayor’s wife’s birthday bash that night, so we were pretty busy.”
Odelia saw that her words had quite an impact on Chase. It was as if he stood frozen. Finally, he asked huskily, “The mayor’s wife? You mean…”
“Francine. Mayor Turner’s wife? She’s a vegan, so she’s in here all the time.”
Once again, her words had a powerful effect on the policeman. His face visibly relaxed, and a small smile indicated her words met his approval. “The mayor of Hampton Cove,” he said, nodding. “Not the mayor of New York.”
“Oh, no,” Aissa laughed. “I don’t think we’ve ever seen the mayor of New York here, or in Hampton Cove. He’s more an Amagansett kind of guy. I hear he’s got quite a place out there, with a private helipad for his chopper.”
“Yes, he does,” Chase confirmed, his lips once again a grim line.
Odelia wondered what the story with him and the mayor was, and made a quick mental note to further look into the matter.
“So if I talk to Francine Turner, she’ll be able to confirm that you were here all evening on September the sixteenth?” Chase asked now.
“I’m sure she would,” said Aissa. “She’s one of our best customers and I like to be here when something big like that goes down.” She smiled. “Especially after what happened with Frey we were afraid we might lose the restaurant, so we made sure we worked like beavers, both Marissa and I.”
“Marissa was also here?”
“Yes, we were both here, I’m sure of it,” she said. “It was a big thing, and we brought the birthday cake in together. It was a great night. I remember telling Francine how grateful we were for her support and the mayor’s and the entire Hampton Cove community.” She gave Chase a wink. “This is a great little town, Detective Kingsley. One that the Paulo Freys of this world can’t destroy, no matter how hard they try. It’s a lesson I learned last year.”
He nodded curtly, and Odelia thought Aissa’s words had touched a chord, for he gave her one of his rare smiles. “Thank you, Miss Spring.”
“It’s Aissa. And I hope to welcome you in our restaurant one of these nights, Detective.”
“Chase, please, and I most certainly will. I can’t wait to try your cuisine.”
He abruptly turned and strode out, clearly wanting to avoid Odelia, but she quickly tripped after him, giving Aissa a wave. “So you managed to pin down time of death, huh, Detective?”
But Chase simply kept on walking, a set look on his face.
“Did you get a cause of death, too? Detective Kingsley?”
Chase sped up, taking long strides that forced her to break into an awkward gait. “You can’t keep ignoring me! As a reporter I
have rights!”
He abruptly stopped and she almost bumped into him.
“I acknowledge the fact that you have rights, Miss Poole,” he ground out slowly, “but I, for one, don’t feel obliged to honor those rights. I’m sure that whatever you need to know you can find out from your uncle, but trust me when I tell you that I intend to conduct this investigation by the book, and that doesn’t include catering to the wishes of nosy reporters such as yourself.”
“Well, then that’s your loss, Detective!” she found herself crying out, his words having pushed one button too many. “I’ll have you know that I could have been a real boon to this investigation. I know this town, and everyone in it! I know this place inside out, while you’re the new guy, and don’t know a single person around here.” She now found she was tapping his chest with her finger, and marveled how hard it was. The guy was built like Iron Man!
“You may know everyone in town, Miss Poole,” he growled, “but I represent the law, and I intend to honor my obligation to uphold it, and not allow this investigation to turn into a freak show or a town hall meeting. Good day to you.” And with these words, he left her fuming on the sidewalk.
The gall of the man! Max was right. Kingsley was the spitting image of his cat: overbearing, obnoxious, and despotic. Who did he think he was, barging into town and deciding she had no business investigating a murder? She’d show him. She’d solve this murder long before he’d ferreted out his first clue. She’d show him he wasn’t the hotshot detective he thought he was.
Still fuming, she resolutely set foot for the police station. Good thing her uncle wasn’t as unwilling to share information as Kingsley was. She’d find out what the medical examiner had unearthed, and she’d take it from there.
Chapter 10
Dooley and I were just on our way to the newspaper to tell Odelia the latest on Chase Kingsley, when I saw a familiar figure strutting along Main Street. Scratch that. When I saw two familiar figures strutting along Main Street as if they owned not only the street but the entire town. They were none other than Brutus and… Harriet!