by Nic Saint
“Amen to that,” said Shalonda.
Odelia shared a glance with Chase. This was definitely motivation for murder. If Dion was going to get kicked off the show, he stood to lose a lot of money. He might have wanted to plot revenge against Shana. Maybe even hoped that the murder would sink the entire show.
“What about Damien?” asked Chase.
Shayonne swatted away a fly. “What about him?”
“Did he know about Shana and Dion?”
“Of course he did. We don’t keep secrets in this family. Damien knew all about his wife’s infidelities.”
“Infidelities?” asked Odelia. “You mean this wasn’t a one-time thing?”
“Nope,” said Shayonne. “Now don’t get me wrong. Shana was the sweetest person in the world.”
“So sweet.”
“And I loved her, like, a lot.”
“A whole lot.”
“But let’s not kid ourselves. She was a skank.”
“They didn’t get any skankier than Shana.”
“She never met a guy she didn’t want to sleep with and who didn’t want to sleep with her.” She shrugged. “That’s the way she was. Take it or leave it.”
“Damien knew that going in,” said Shalonda. “In fact he sleeps around just as much as she does. They have a, quote unquote, arrangement.”
“So he was fine with this Dion situation?” Odelia asked.
The two sisters shared a look. “Well, fine would be overstating it,” said Shayonne.
“Yeah, he and Dion got into a big fight about it the other night.”
“They knocked the shit out of each other and then bonded over a couple of beers and hung out at the pool all night. It was crazy.”
“Dion is crazy.”
“Hey. Who you calling crazy? That’s my husband you’re talking about.”
“Ex-husband,” Shalonda specified.
“He’s not my ex-husband. I haven’t divorced him yet.”
Shalonda stared at her sister. “You’re not seriously thinking about keeping him, are you? After what he did to you?”
“But I still love him, honey. And maybe now that Shana’s gone we can start over.”
“You’re officially crazy. That man never treated you right.”
“He has. And anyway, better to have a man than no man at all.”
Shalonda’s eyebrows rose and she planted a hand on her hip. “Don’t hold back, honey. Just throw it all out there, why don’t you?”
“I’m saying you don’t get to give me marriage advice. I’m only going to take marriage advice from a person who’s in a successful marriage. And that person obviously isn’t you.”
“I would have had a successful marriage if Shana hadn’t stolen my man.”
“She wouldn’t have stolen your man if he wasn’t ready to be stolen.”
“Wait, you also had a man stolen from you by Shana?” Odelia asked. She was feeling as if she was on an episode of the Kenspeckles. Which she was.
“Of course. Didn’t you listen to a word we said? Shana stole all of our men. That’s what she did. She was a man-stealer.”
Chase shook his head and jotted something down in his notebook. It wasn’t hard to figure out what. Both Shalonda and Shayonne had a motive for murder. Both of them had had their men stolen by their sister.
“Did you notice anything about the intruder last night?” Odelia asked, deciding to change the subject.
“Not a thing,” said Shayonne. “I slept like a baby. Though when I woke up I was feeling nauseous. But I already told Detective Kingsley about that.”
“You were drugged,” Chase confirmed. “Both of you were.”
“Yeah, I was feeling nauseous too,” said Shalonda. “I thought I was pregnant.”
Both sisters laughed. “Good one, Shalonda,” said Shayonne.
“What about that?” Odelia asked.
Shalonda blinked. “What about what?”
“Any plans to add a new generation to the Kenspeckle family?”
“Well, Dion and I were planning our first baby,” said Shayonne.
“But that’s off now, right?” asked Shalonda. When her sister didn’t respond, she repeated emphatically, “I said, that’s off now. Right?”
Shayonne shrugged.
Shalonda’s jaw dropped dramatically. “Oh. My. God. You’re not seriously thinking to procreate with that man, are you? He cheated on you with your own sister!”
“That won’t happen again,” said Shayonne. “He promised.”
“Of course it won’t happen again! Shana is dead. It’s physically impossible for that to happen again. That don’t mean he won’t do it with some other skank.”
“He’s a good person,” Shayonne insisted. “And it’s not because he tripped up once that he should be punished for the rest of his life. He deserves a second chance and I am possibly willing to give him one. Maybe. I’m still thinking.”
“Think again! Once a cheater, always a cheater.”
“That’s not true. He promised he wouldn’t do it again and I believe him.”
Shalonda raised her eyes to the rafters, as if to draw strength from the honeysuckle. “I’m telling Camille,” she finally declared. “I’m so telling her.”
Odelia noticed how the cameraman had snuck up on them, and was so caught up in the dramatic scene that he'd dropped all pretenses and was openly filming. This was going to be another cliffhanger, she thought.
"So you didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, apart from the fact that you were both feeling nauseous this morning?" asked Chase, in a heroic effort to take back control of the interview.
“No, Detective,” said Shayonne. “I was out like a light all night.”
“Me too.”
“You are going to catch the killer, right?” asked Shayonne.
“We’re going to do everything in our power to find him, ma’am,” said Chase. Then he caught sight of the cameraman and cursed loudly.
The cameraman eyed him sheepishly. “Just doing my job, bub.”
“Get out of my face,” Chase said. “I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
“Better get used to it,” Odelia whispered. “You’re a TV detective now.”
“Thanks, ladies,” he said, ignoring her remark. “That’s all for now.”
“And it’s a wrap,” Shayonne cried. “Tell me you got all that?”
The cameraman gave her a toothy grin and a thumbs-up.
“You did great, Detective,” Shalonda said. “You’re a natural.”
“I don’t care,” he said wearily. “I just want to catch your sister’s killer.”
“Oh, but so do we,” said Shayonne.
“Yeah, that’s all we care about,” said Shalonda. “Now do you think we could do this again, Detective? Only this time I’ll sit there and you sit here.”
Chase sighed. “Just… shoot me already. Not you,” he said when the cameraman pointed his camera at him. “You shoot me and I’ll shoot you.”
Yep, this was shaping up to be a pretty interesting murder investigation.
Chapter 11
While Odelia and Chase went off to interview the two leading ladies of Cirque du Kenspeckle, Dooley and I decided to abandon our perch and do some more snooping around. Earn our kibble, if you know what I mean.
The big advantage of being a cat is that we’re pretty much invisible. We can stalk around and people will simply pat our heads and go on discussing their latest killing spree or plot a fresh massacre without a care in the world. That’s why we’re the world’s best spies. Well, flies would make even better spies, I suppose, as they can, you know, buzz around from suspect to suspect. But I’ve never heard of a fly living long enough to tell its tale to its human owner. Even supposing flies have human owners, of course, which I don’t think they have. Flies don’t provide as much warmth and affection as cats do.
We wandered about the house, and our first port of call was the kitchen. I think we were both curious to see what kind of
food Kane was being fed.
The kitchen was an all-white, very spacious affair, with a gigantic butcher block in the center, and all the usual gleaming appliances occupying the enormous space. You could film a cooking show here. Maybe they did. We followed our noses, and padded into what looked like a mudroom, with coats on racks and boots neatly placed beneath them. And there it was: a placemat with two large bowls. We eagerly trotted up, and I have to say I was disappointed to find both bowls empty. Fortunately for Kane the Kenspeckles had invested in a Drinkwell. I wasn’t thirsty, though, and neither was Dooley.
“No food?” he asked.
“Looks like.”
“How is that even possible?!”
I was starting to feel sorry for the annoying little yapper. First his human was murdered by some maniac with a meat cleaver, then he'd been attacked by a feral cat, and chased around the pool by a violent intruder, and now, to add insult to injury, the Kenspeckles had forgotten to feed him.
“Looks like Kane has a lot to complain about,” said Dooley.
“Yeah, a thing like this would never happen in our home.”
We shared a look of understanding. Odelia’s place might not be the palatial house the Kenspeckles could afford, but at least she’d never forgotten to feed us, and neither had her mom or Gran. In that sense, we had it made.
“Come to gloat?” suddenly a raspy voice asked.
We turned in surprise, and saw that Kane sat glaring at us.
“Oh, no,” I said. “Far from it. Just curious to see how the other half lives.”
“The other half lives rottenly,” he said, and I noticed he spoke with a lisp, as if he had a speech impediment. Or maybe all dogs spoke like that. I wouldn’t know. I rarely move in canine circles. I’m strictly a feline person.
“Yeah, I can see that,” I said. “They forgot to feed you, didn’t they?”
He plunked down on his haunches and stared at us a little wearily.
“Shana used to feed me, but I guess that’s over now. She died, you know.”
“Yeah, we know,” said Dooley.
“That’s why we’re here,” I said. “We’re investigating her murder.”
“Trying to figure out whodunnit,” Dooley added, in case it wasn’t clear.
Kane nodded forlornly. “She was a good human. Always bought me the best food and allowed me to sleep on the bed. Took me everywhere, she did. Hong Kong, the Bahamas, Europe… We traveled the world together.”
"That's nice," I said, for lack of a better response. I didn't care a hoot about traveling. I'm something of a homebody. Traveling gives me the willies.
“So what happened to your friend?” he asked. “The one that’s been chasing me all over the place?”
“Oh, he’s not our friend,” I hastened to say. “More an acquaintance.”
“Brutus has this theory,” Dooley said. “He wants you to confirm it.”
“Theory? What theory?”
“Well, that your human was killed by a huge, ferocious dog.”
“A dog that bit her head off,” I added helpfully.
“He thinks the Kenspeckles are hiding this dog in the basement, afraid the police will find out and accuse them of being assassins to murder.”
“Accessories,” I corrected him. “Accessories to murder.”
Kane stared at us for a moment, then frowned. He looked even sadder than usual, and bulldogs have a pretty sad face to begin with. "I always knew cats were nuts," he said. "But now I finally have proof. You two are cuckoo."
“Oh, no. We don’t believe any of Brutus’s ideas either,” said Dooley.
“You don’t?” This seemed to surprise the bulldog.
“No, we think he’s cuckoo, too,” I said. “I mean, no dog can produce a bite force of enough pounds of pressure to sever the human spinal cord.” I laughed. “They’d need jaws of steel to accomplish such a feat.” Dooley and Kane were staring at me, so I was quick to add, “I watch the Discovery Channel. MythBusters? Such a great show. If you’re into that kind of thing, of course.” Which Dooley and my new canine friend obviously weren’t.
“I still don’t get what that’s got to do with me,” said Kane.
“Brutus figures you and this nonexistent Jaws of Steel are buddies, seeing as you’re both dogs and all, and he hopes you’ll squeal on your chum.”
The bulldog’s frown deepened, and now he actually looked like Tommy Lee Jones having a bad day. “He’s crazy,” he said curtly.
“Pretty much our opinion as well,” I said.
“He is crazy,” Dooley confirmed.
“And dangerous. He said he was going to cut me. He’s a menace.”
“Yeah, well, his meow is worse than his bite,” I said.
“If you have to know, I’m the only dog on the premises. There are no other pets allowed in the house—though it’s obvious the Kenspeckles are slacking on the rules now that Shana’s gone. She always said I was her one and only Kenspeckle prince, and she wanted to keep it that way. She got me endorsement deals, and was prepping me for my own TV show, debuting in the fall. Damien was even designing a collection for me. My own fashion line. He was calling it Kane’s Kraze.” He sighed and plunked his head down on his paws, looking sad. “All gone now. No Shana. No TV show. No fashion line.”
“What about the other Kenspeckles?” I asked, feeling sorry for the dog.
“Yeah, I’ll bet they’ll adopt you now,” said Dooley.
He lifted his shoulders in an almost imperceptible shrug. “I liked Shana. She was the sweetest of the bunch.” He licked his snout with his long, pink tongue. “You see what’s happening, don’t you? The minute Shana’s gone they forget about me. I’m going to starve to death in this place. I’ll be forced to fend for myself. Forage for food in the Hampton Cove jungle. Survive.”
“We don’t have a jungle in Hampton Cove,” I said. “Only a park.”
“And a forest. But that’s where Clarice rules,” Dooley added.
“The cat that tried to cut you,” I clarified.
He groaned. “I’m doomed.”
“You’re not doomed. You’re a celebrity,” I said. “You’ve got fan clubs, an Instagram page, Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat. Literally millions of fans.”
“I do? I didn’t even know. I guess Shana set all that up in my name.”
“What I mean is that you’ll be well taken care of. You’re an icon, Kane.”
This perked him up a little. At least his ears were pointing up again.
“Yeah, the Kenspeckles aren’t going to let anything happen to you,” Dooley said.
“They almost did. They allowed this crazy cat to chase me around the pool about a billion times and then do a death leap into the pool. Good thing Boa was there, or I might have drowned.”
“Boa?” I asked.
“Stanbury Boa. Bodyguard. He runs the security detail that protects the Kenspeckles.”
“And he’s probably going to get fired,” Dooley muttered.
He was right. Bodyguards get fired when the bodies they're hired to guard are found dead. I wondered why the ax hadn't fallen yet on Boa's employment.
“I’m sure they’re all a little preoccupied right now,” I told Kane. “What with the murder and all. Speaking of murder, we have it from a usually reliable source that you actually witnessed the murder? Is that true?”
He nodded sadly. “Yeah, I was there. And let me tell you, it wasn’t a killer dog that did it. It was a human. Not that I mind humans slaughtering each other. I mean, it’s what they do. But they shouldn’t slaughter my human.”
“I guess,” I said dubiously. I didn’t agree with him, though. All the humans I knew were pretty great, and they would definitely not slaughter other humans. But I guess I could see where he was coming from.
“You know, I don’t even want to know. It’s all so very troubling.”
“But you can confirm that the killer was a masked intruder, right?”
“Yeah. A masked intruder with a big mea
t cleaver. And now can you please just leave me alone so I can properly wallow in my misery? This is quickly turning into the worst day of my entire life.”
“All right, Kane,” I said, walking over and patting him on the back, being careful not to use my claws. “I’m sorry for your loss, buddy.”
“Yeah, yeah. Save it for the funeral. Oh, and when you see that deranged friend of yours? Tell him that if he ever comes near me again…” He hesitated, thinking hard. Then his face cleared. “Tell him I’ll sic my killer dog friend with the jaws of steel on him, and he’ll devour him in one chomp.”
Dooley was surprised. “I thought you said the killer dog didn’t exist?”
Kane grinned. “Well, he doesn’t know that, does he?”
Which just goes to show even dogs have a measure of intelligence.
Dooley and I stalked off, leaving Kane to feel sorry for himself.
“I kinda dig that dog,” said Dooley. “He’s goofy but nice.”
“Yeah, he’s all right, as dogs go,” I said noncommittally.
“A little sad, though.”
"Which is to be expected. If Odelia were killed I'd be sad, too."
“You’d still have me and Harriet and Marge and Gran and Dr. Poole.”
“True, but Kane has the rest of the Kenspeckles and he’s still sad.”
Kane had Shayonne, Shalonda, Shantel, Sandy, Steel, Camille and Starr Kenspeckle to take care of him. Obviously they were no match for Shana.
We wandered out of the kitchen and down the corridor to the suite of bedrooms. At the end, the corridor took a left turn, ending in an airy and light atrium, where a flight of stairs led down into a basement, and up to the second floor. Voices drifted up to us, so we decided to go and take a look.
“Hey, this might lead to the underground dungeon where the Kenspeckles keep their killer dog,” said Dooley.
“We’ve established that, that dog is a figment of Brutus’s imagination, Dooley.”
“Oh. Right. I forgot. Still, it would be pretty cool if was real, huh?”
“I don’t think so. A dog like that—if it did exist—would eat us for breakfast. Literally. And I don’t know about you, but I value my life.”