by Nic Saint
“Well, then you’ll just have to make sure those silly charges go away, won’t you?” asked Mom as she plunked another large volume onto the shelf and decidedly pushed it into place. “You know as well as I do that Chase is innocent of those silly charges, and I’m sure that if you clear his name he’ll be ever so grateful.” She gave her a knowing glance. “And a grateful man is a marrying man, honey. Remember that.”
She left the library feeling a little annoyed. First her grandmother tried to push her into Chase’s arms and now her mother. It was a concerted matchmaking effort that didn’t sit well with her. If she was ever going to choose a mate for life, as her grandmother put it, she’d do it herself, without anyone’s help. Besides, clearing Chase’s name wasn’t as easy as it sounded.
Back when he was still an NYPD detective, the wife of a suspect had accused him of molesting her, and those charges had lost him his job and, very briefly, his freedom. And they weren’t going away. Instead, they’d followed him to Hampton Cove, where his job now hung in the balance.
Chase claimed he’d caught the NYPD commissioner and the wife of the mayor of New York in a torrid affair, and they’d set up this molestation claim to discredit him and shut him up. Since arriving in Hampton Cove, he’d apprehended the killer in another murder case, that of a well-known bestselling novelist, and that had gotten him a reprieve from the mayor of Hampton Cove, but it didn’t sit well with several concerned citizens that a cop on the Hampton Cove Police Department was an NYPD reject, so they’d been pressuring the council and Mayor Turner to have him dismissed.
Odelia had promised to look into the case, but so far had nothing to show for her efforts. If Chase’s old boss was having an affair, he was very discreet about it, and so far she only had Chase’s word on the matter.
As she was crossing the street to pick up the necessary ingredients for the chocolate cake her mother wanted her to bake, she saw a guy selling something from the trunk of his car, and she was reminded of Orville’s words.
She decided to have a closer look and, arriving there, saw that the guy’s customer was none other than her own grandmother! The feisty old lady was negotiating with the salesman, who stood gesticulating wildly. He had slicked-back raven hair and was wearing an actual three-piece suit.
“Gran?” she asked when she’d joined the odd couple. “What is this?”
“Oh, there you are, honey. I was hoping to run into you. So what do you think, huh?” she asked, holding up a small plastic baggie in one hand and a glass vial in the other. “Powder or liquid? I was thinking liquid, as you know I have trouble swallowing.”
Odelia’s eyes swiveled to the trunk of the guy’s car, and when she saw the baggies of white powder, clear glass vials, more baggies with pills in different colors, she had a pretty good idea what was going on here. She directed a hard look at the guy. “Are you selling Liquid G to my grandmother?”
“Hey, she wanted something to help her sleep,” the guy said, holding up his hands. He then tapped a small vial. “This will help her sleep just fine.”
“This will help her sleep forever,” Odelia said, planting her hands on her hips. “You’re that drug dealer, aren’t you? The one who’s trying to muscle Orville Haggis out of the market?”
The guy took a good look at Odelia. “And you’re that reporter, aren’t you?”
“Odelia’s the best reporter in town,” said Gran proudly. “She’s the one that catches all the bad guys before the cops ever do.” She then grinned at the guy. “She even caught herself a drug dealer just before, didn’t you, honey?”
Well, news certainly traveled fast. But then what else was new?
The next thing she knew, the guy slammed the trunk of his car closed, and then he was bolting away from them, barreling down the sidewalk.
“Oh, crap, not again,” she groaned, and took off after the guy.
“You go get him, honey!” her grandmother yelled. “I’d help you catch him but my hip’s acting up again! In fact now might be a good time to try this here happy stuff, just like the guy said.” And she flicked the vial curiously.
Horrified, Odelia shouted over her shoulder, “Don’t drink that, Gran!”
But even as she glanced back, she saw that the old lady was already knocking back the vial with visible relish. And as she was sprinting after her second drug dealer of the day, she managed to snatch her cell phone from her pocket and press it to her ear. “Chase? I’m on Main Street, chasing another drug dealer. And my gran just took a hit of GHB!”
Chapter 12
A foot pursuit was even harder than a car chase, she discovered. The guy might be a little portly, but he was in great shape. In fact he was in much better shape than she was. She probably should have bought that elliptical trainer. She’d only run a couple hundred feet before a shooting pain attacked her spleen, or whatever organ was acting up. But thinking about how this asshole had sold GHB to her grandmother gave her the fuel to keep going.
“Hold it right there!” she yelled as the guy jumped over a Poodle on a leash and then veered right between two shops. “I just wanna talk to you!”
That wasn’t necessarily true, of course. Well, she did want to talk to him, but she also wanted to slam his head against the pavement until he promised never to sell drugs to senior citizens again, or anyone else for that matter. Not that he would listen. Guys like that never listened. You had to lock them up.
She also hung a hard right and found herself hurtling down a narrow alley that opened up into a wider lane. She halted, hands on knees, panting heavily, and checked left and right. In every direction she was looking into the backyards of the houses on the next street, all neatly divided by hedges or fences. And the drug dealer, who clearly wasn’t a customer of his own junk, was now vaulting over the fences like a regular steeplechaser!
She wiped the sweat from her brow and with a groan continued her pursuit. She wanted to say she was too old for this shit, but that wasn’t true. She was simply not trained for this shit. And as she climbed the first fence, she hoped Gran hadn’t taken an overdose of that horrible drug. If she had, she’d never forgive dealer guy. Instead of gracefully hopping over the fence like a member of SEAL Team Six, she dropped down into the yard, her jeans ripping when they caught on a rusty nail. And as she tumbled down, she crashed right into a barbecue set, which, luckily for her, wasn’t switched on.
A couple, sitting on the deck, stared at her. “Is this for a contest?” asked the woman.
“I think it’s for one of them reality shows,” said her husband.
“It’s neither,” she said, scrambling to her feet. “I’m chasing a drug dealer.”
“Oh. Right,” said the woman, as if that made perfect sense.
“You go get him, honey,” said the man.
“I will, if I survive,” she said between two gasps.
She climbed the next fence, and thought that at this rate she would never get her man. But then, to her great surprise, she saw that she’d gotten her man already. He was lying sprawled on the lawn of the next family’s garden, cursing loudly and nursing an injured shin as he rolled on his back. Apparently, when landing, he’d knocked his shin on the toy plastic castle that took up a big part of the garden. The two kids who’d been playing with the castle were staring at the man who’d suddenly interrupted their garden party, and then set off into the house, wailing loudly for their mommy.
Odelia pounced on the guy and pressed him face down into the grass. She would have loved to cuff him, but since she wasn’t a cop she couldn’t. She now wondered if it wouldn’t be a good idea to ask Uncle Alec to deputize her, seeing as she was doing more work than the regular cops anyway.
But then her eye fell on a brightly green skipping rope, and she figured it would do. So she quickly and expertly tied the guy’s hands.
“You have the right to remain silent,” she began.
“What the hell are you doing?” he cursed, spitting out a few blades of grass. “You’re not a cop! You
can’t make an arrest!”
“It’s called a citizen’s arrest, bozo,” she said, and shoved his face into the grass again. “And shut up! You just tried to kill my grandmother!”
He lifted his face. “I didn’t kill her!” he grunted. “I gave her a watered down vial of liquid G. She’ll just be very happy for the next couple of hours.”
“Still, you shouldn’t sell that junk to people.”
“Look, lady, I’m just trying to make a living here. So back off, all right?”
This lame excuse set her teeth on edge. “Is it true you were trying to muscle in on Orville Haggis’s territory, yes or no?”
“Sure! That loser thinks he’s the only one who can sell stuff in this town, and I’m here to show him he’s wrong. You can’t stifle competition! That’s just plain wrong. What’s more, it’s un-American!”
“What’s un-American is killing people. You killed John Paul George, didn’t you? And then tried to pin it on Orville, getting rid of him altogether.”
“What?! You’re crazy! Why would I do that? Johnny signed up with me. He said my stuff was better quality, and a lot cheaper, too. I made the deal last week. This time next month I was taking over as Johnny’s official supplier of G. If I killed him I’d be killing the goose with the golden eggs! Especially since he said he was going to recommend me to all of his friends.”
Just then, an elephant came crashing through the brush, but when Odelia looked up, she saw it wasn’t an elephant but Chase Kingsley, and he looked as winded and red-faced as she was.
“Another one!” he cried when he caught sight of her. “You caught another drug dealer?!”
“Yup, I caught him for you and now he’s all yours.”
He threw up his hands in a gesture of exasperation. “What kind of town is this? This is worse than New York!”
After catching his breath, he hoisted this new guy up and outfitted him with a nice pair of gleaming handcuffs to replace the skipping rope. And as Chase led the guy away, through the house this time, past the astonished gazes of the couple who lived there, she told him what the dealer had told her.
“So Orville is in the picture again, huh?”
“Looks like. If this guy was taking over his clients, Orville might have taken it hard and decided to send Johnny a parting gift in the form of a poisoned vial. Take him out once and for all and pin the murder on this guy.”
“Good work,” Chase grunted. “Again.”
“How is my grandmother?”
“I’ve never seen her happier. When I left she was singing the national anthem at the top of her voice, demanding that some store clerk hoist her up to the store roof and let her fly like Lady Gaga at the Super Bowl.”
“See?” asked the dealer. “A little happy juice goes a long way!”
“You’re going to look a lot less happy when I’m through with you,” grunted Chase, giving the guy a shove.
And as they took the turn to the main road, they were getting a lot of attention, people up and down the street staring at the small procession of three: the drug dealer, the burly cop and the svelte blond reporter.
“You know, at this rate Uncle Alec is going to have to deputize me,” Odelia said. “I’ve taken down more bad guys than all you cops combined.”
“Don’t even think about it,” growled Chase. “You’re not a cop and you should stop acting like one. You’re just putting yourself in danger.”
“I could be a cop. I obviously have mad skills.”
“Uh-uh,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s bad enough I keep tripping over you everywhere I turn. I don’t want you chasing people and arresting them.”
“Still, it’s definitely something to consider.”
“Nah-ah. Never.”
“You have to admit she’d make a great cop, though,” the drug dealer said. “And a pretty one, too. We don’t have a lot of pretty cops in this town.”
“If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” grunted Chase.
They’d arrived at the dealer’s car, where now Chase’s pickup stood, the police light flashing on the roof. Gran was seated inside the trunk of the car, her tush firmly planted amongst the drug paraphernalia the guy sold, and she had a happy grin on her face, her eyes a little misty. Mom was by her side, eyeing Odelia critically. “What did you give her? She’s acting all weird.”
“Me? I didn’t give her anything!” cried Odelia. “She bought this stuff!”
“This is some good shit right here,” Gran croaked, and cackled loudly.
“Oh, God,” said Mom. “We better take her to see your father.”
Five minutes later, Chase dropped the three of them off at the doctor’s office, while he rode on to the police station to process the dealer.
“Don’t forget about dinner, Chase!” Mom said before he rode off. “Odelia is baking a great chocolate cake, aren’t you, Odelia?”
Yes, that was the most important thing right now: chocolate cake.
But Chase surprised her by yelling back, “I’m looking forward to it, Marge.”
The day was turning out a little weird, she felt, what with the murder and drug dealer number one and drug dealer number two and now Gran’s surprise love for GHB. She just hoped that the rest of the day would be less eventful, and that amongst the people Chase had arrested, at least one would turn out to be the killer. By the law of averages, that had to be so, right?
Chapter 13
It had been a long day, and when Dooley and I couldn’t find Odelia at the paper, or the library, or the doctor’s office, we figured she must have gone home. Actually I was glad. I could use a nap. Us cats don’t usually traipse around town all day. We’re more the nocturnal kind, and for us daytime is naptime. But when duty calls, like now, we gladly sacrifice our beauty sleep for the more important stuff, like helping our human catch a killer. Though it’s entirely possible Dooley and I were the exception to the rule in this.
When we arrived in our backyard, I saw to my elation that the glass sliding door was wide open, meaning Odelia was home. And if that hadn’t given her away, the smell of freshly baked chocolate cake would have.
“Hey darlings,” she said when she caught sight of us. She was seated at the kitchen counter, sipping from a cup of coffee. One look at the deep groove in her brow told me she hadn’t had any luck catching the killer yet.
“Hey, honey,” I said. “How’s it going?
“Yeah, any luck cracking the John Paul George thing?” asked Dooley.
He’d hopped up onto a stool, and I followed his example, watching as Odelia stared at us a little sadly and shook her head. “No luck so far, fellas. I did arrest two drug dealers today, so here’s hoping one of them did it. Though to be honest I doubt it. Drug dealers rarely kill their customers. At least not intentionally. And definitely not by putting spider venom in their product.”
“Spider venom? Is that what killed Johnny?” asked Dooley.
“Looks like. A rare spider venom, too. Something called Australian funnel-web spider venom. Supposedly the deadliest spider in the world. Though whoever administered the poison didn’t count on its effect being greatly diminished when ingested. The only reason the venom killed Johnny was because he had a weak heart.”
I thought about this for a moment. She was right. Why would a drug dealer kill a client? It made no sense. He’d lose the client, ruin his reputation, and potentially lose his business. People don’t respond well to traffickers dealing in death rather than bliss. “So what’s your theory?” I asked.
“So far I’ve got no theory,” she admitted, rising to check on her cake. “All I know is that we need to keep looking, because Uncle Alec thinks he’s got his killer in Jasper, and I’m pretty sure the guy is totally innocent.”
“I think so too,” I admitted. Dooley and I quickly gave her the gist of the interviews with Johnny’s seemingly endless row of boy toys, but there seemed to be little news in those testimonies for Odelia, and for once I felt a little helpless. There’s only
so much information a cat can glean from humans, and so far we hadn’t found the one clue that would break this case wide open.
“I think you should keep investigating,” I said. “If your uncle thinks he’s got his killer, he’s going to stop looking, and send the wrong guy to prison.”
“I know,” said Odelia, and gave us both a rub on the head. “Thanks for being my perfect feline spies, you guys. How did you ever get so smart?”
“We’re sleuthing cats,” I said, swelling a little. “Sleuthing is in our blood.”
“Yeah, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson got nothing on us,” said Dooley.
Odelia leaned on the desk and eyed us with a humorous glint in her eyes. “So who’s Sherlock Holmes and who’s Dr. Watson, I wonder.”
“Why, I’m Sherlock, of course,” said Dooley.
“How do you figure that?” I asked.
“I’m thin and handsome and you’re fat and… well, not so handsome.”
“I’m not fat!” I cried. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m big-boned. Besides, Dr. Watson wasn’t fat. He was buff and trim. And Sherlock Holmes wasn’t handsome at all. He was… gaunt.”
“Gaunt and handsome,” Dooley insisted. “Just like me.”
“I think you could both be Sherlock Holmes,” said Odelia soothingly.
“Which would make Harriet Irene Adler,” I said.
“Wasn’t she Sherlock’s girlfriend?” asked Odelia.
“She was Sherlock’s femme fatale,” I corrected her.
“She fell for Sherlock, just like Harriet fell for Brutus,” said Dooley sadly.
“So actually Brutus is Sherlock,” said Odelia teasingly.
“Brutus obviously is Professor Moriarty,” I countered. “The evil genius who was Sherlock’s greatest foe. Which makes me Sherlock.”
“Fat chance,” Dooley scoffed.
“Look, Brutus is my biggest foe,” I said.
“Our biggest foe,” he corrected. “And he stole Irene Adler from us.”