by Nic Saint
I think it was probably aimed at entertaining kids and providing them with a measure of exercise. But we make good use of it, too. Nearby the ducks were quacking softly, Rita the owl was hooting, and for a brief moment I forgot all about Bim, Bam and Bom, and Jeb Pott and Harriet blowing her top. I mean, who needs a shrink when you can sing at the top of your lungs along with a bunch of other nocturnal animals, right?
But then a well-aimed size-14 shoe hit me straight on the noggin and I dropped from my high perch and fell to the rubber mulch below.
Could this be what Clarice had meant about Gran going up and then going down?
Had Gran joined a choir that was as unpopular with her neighbors as ours?
Chapter 16
“I don’t know about this, babe,” Chase was saying.
Odelia and her burly cop were seated on the salon couch, watching The Voice. The coaches were bickering, the candidates were singing out of tune, and generally the whole thing failed to grip. Odelia knew it had more to do with the case she’d accepted than the quality of the show, but she still turned down the sound. “About Jeb Pott, you mean?”
He nodded, absentmindedly caressing the three kittens that had fallen asleep on his lap.
Odelia smiled. “For a dog person you’re awfully good with cats.”
“I’m a pet person. Dogs, cats, goldfish. I adapt. Where are Max and Dooley, by the way?” he asked, looking around.
“Cat choir,” she said before she could stop herself. “I mean, the park. I think. They like to roam around there at night, meeting other cats, doing what cats do. At least, I think they do. It’s not as if they confide in me, you know,” she added with a nervous little laugh.
He gave her a curious look. “Look, this is an open-and-shut case, Odelia. Jeb did it. He killed his ex-wife and that’s it. But you offering your services to his daughter, that just seems... wrong.”
“I didn’t offer my services. In fact I didn’t know I had any services to offer. She came to me, remember?”
“Still. She’s offering you money to prove her dad is innocent, while you know as well as I do that he’s guilty. You’re giving her false hope, babe. And at some point you’re going to have to disappoint her, and you’re going to feel bad about accepting her money.”
“I’m not going to accept any money. I’m just doing this to satisfy my personal curiosity. There are certain things that are not jibing with the official version of events.”
“The burner phones,” he said, nodding. “But is it so hard to believe that a movie star like Jeb would possess a disposable phone? Heck, I’ll bet he’s got dozens he uses for various purposes. These are the same people who change phone numbers the way they change underwear, just in case some media person gets a hold of it and starts pestering them. Or some stalker fan. They’re notoriously paranoid and often for good reason.”
She had to admit he had a point. But how could she explain she had a gut feeling that there was something not completely right about this case? That it was perhaps too open-and-shut? She couldn’t, so she decided not to even try. “I guess I’ll just prove you right in the end,” she said instead. “In which case, no harm done. And in the event that there is something more to the case than meets the eye, I’d like to think I’ll find it.”
“Good luck,” he said wryly. “And is it true that your grandmother is assisting you?”
“That is true, and she’s doing a pretty good job so far.” Chase didn’t seem convinced. She gave him a playful poke in the ribs. “There’s something else bothering you, isn’t there? I know you well enough by now to know that when you get all broody like this you’ve got something on your mind. And I’m pretty sure it’s not me poking around your case.”
“It’s not,” he conceded. He shifted a little, careful not to wake up the kittens.
It was such an adorable sight: the burly cop with the tiny kittens buried in his big arms. Her heart melted from the sheer tenderness the homey scene displayed.
“The thing is…” He swallowed.
Uh-oh. He really did have something on his mind. “Just cut to the chase… Chase,” she quipped.
“All right. The thing is that... I talked to your cats the other day. And I got the impression they talked right back to me.”
Double uh-oh. She gulped a little. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged, displacing the kittens. They changed position but went on sleeping, nestling closer against his chest. “I said something and they meowed something. Then I said something else and they meowed some more. And each time I said something or asked a question, they answered. It was the darndest thing.”
“What did you ask them?”
“I asked ‘Max, can you understand me?’ And he responded!”
She smiled. “That happens to me all the time. Some cats are very talkative. You say something and they immediately respond. That doesn’t mean they can actually understand what you’re saying. Or that we can understand what they’re saying.”
“No, but the other day when you were in the hospital? Your mom or grandma said something and I had the impression they actually understood when your cats responded.”
“Oh, that’s just Mom and Gran. They love those cats so much they pretend to talk to them all the time.” She felt a trickle of sweat drip down her spine. How was she going to salvage this? “It’s the women in this family. We’re crazy about cats. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, of course I know that. It’s a part of you I adore. I mean, the little fellas never meant much to me before. But ever since I met you, and your cats, there’s just something… special about the bond you share. Something I can’t seem to put my finger on.”
“But you’re okay with it, right?”
“Oh, sure. I think it’s pretty damn cute.” He smiled and leaned in for a quick peck on her lips. “I almost can’t believe it myself, but I’m actually starting to like the little fellas myself. Not as much as you, obviously, or your mom and gran, but I have to admit I’d miss them if they were gone. How crazy is that, right?”
“Not crazy at all,” she said. “Cats are intelligent creatures. Sometimes I think they understand us a lot better than perhaps we understand ourselves. The way they’re always listening, watching, observing us. I think they’re very wise animals, and maybe that’s why we’re so fond of them.”
“Well, I’m definitely turning into a crazy cat dude,” he said with a chuckle.
One of the kittens had woken up and gazed up at Chase, then whispered, “Dada?”
Odelia stifled a cry of surprise. “Oh, Chase,” she said, placing her hand on his arm.
“I know, babe,” he said softly, then pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and tickled the kitten under the chin until it fell asleep again.
Chapter 17
Gran was up early. Which wasn’t unusual for her. In fact she often got up before the crack of dawn. When the rest of the world was still fast asleep she was already pottering about in her nightgown. Maybe it was because of her age, but she preferred it that way. She felt most productive in the early morning hours and felt she could get a lot more done.
Like working in her backyard—though technically it was Tex and Marge’s backyard—and checking her tomato plants or the lettuce she’d planted a while back. She’d always loved the idea of a kitchen garden so she’d created one. It was just a tiny patch of green but it was hers, and so far it had yielded radishes, peas, spring onions, garlic and the highly-anticipated tomatoes and lettuce. She had big plans for her garden, and hoped to expand it so she could sell some of her produce on the farmer’s market. Anything to supplement her meager pension and the paltry allowance she got from her penny-pinching son-in-law.
Today she wasn’t to be found in the backyard, though, in spite of the fact that the sun was already hoisting itself over the horizon and the day promised to be a scorcher. She wasn’t even moving about in the kitchen, preparing a cake or breakfast. No, today Vesta Muffin could be found hovering over her lap
top and cursing at the screen. For her big rival Scarlett Canyon had posted yet another Instagram story where she displayed her knack for making herself the center of attention. She’d filmed herself on the beach, showcasing a new line of beachwear she was modeling for Darling’s Dress Code, one of the local boutiques that were so popular with the celebrity crowd that flocked to the Hamptons every summer.
Gwyneth Paltrow, Christie Brinkley and her daughters, Nina Agdal, Malia Obama, Hailey Baldwin, Rachel Zoe… They all loved to shop at Darling’s Dress Code and showcase the shop’s unique designs on their social media.
And now Scarlett had joined that illustrious line of celebrity influencers and was garnering hundreds of comments and thousands of likes in the process.
Gran ground her teeth as she watched the video. Even though Scarlett was her age, she still looked like a supermodel, with her impossible waistline and her Kardashian-type bust. All surgically enhanced, of course, but tell that to the idiots who flocked to her Instagram with dullard comments about hot ‘hawt’ Scarlett looked.
“Hawt my ass,” Gran grumbled under her breath. “More like a painted tart.”
She checked her own YouTube page. A whopping seventy-five followers, three down from the day before.
As she sat back, she thought about the kind of stunt she would have to pull to crank up her popularity in the flogging space. So far she’d only flogged sporadically. Once every couple of weeks she would upload a video, mostly showcasing herself explaining what she’d been up to as the executive assistant to her granddaughter, Hampton Cove’s very own super sleuth, or her son, Hampton Cove’s chief of police. Or even playing scrabble behind the reception desk at Tex’s office or helping her daughter set up the library for one of her book club events. It was becoming clear to her that this kind of stuff didn’t cut it. If she was going to make a splash in the flogging community she would have to switch things up. Flog some more and maybe stop filming herself and film some of the stuff people really wanted to see. And what did people want to see? Blood and gore. And lots and lots of drama. Tragedy.
People naturally were rubberneckers. When there was a car crash, long lines would form and people would take out their phones to film the whole thing. Why else did shows like Game of Thrones attract such a massive following? Blood and gore and the prospect of people suffering horrific deaths at every turn.
“People are sadists,” she said as she absentmindedly caressed Harriet.
The white Persian had been spending all of her time at the house, which didn’t surprise Gran. Usually she was over at Odelia’s a lot, but ever since her granddaughter had taken in three kittens, Harriet had taken refuge at Tex and Marge and Vesta’s.
“Tell me about it,” said Harriet. “Doesn’t Odelia realize how much damage those kittens are causing? Not to mention the emotional distress.”
“Mh,” said Gran, not really paying the grumpy cat a lot of attention. “I think I need to showcase some of the more gory aspects of this detective business,” she said. “Maybe then people will finally tune in and give me the attention I deserve.”
“And then there’s Max and Dooley, who have totally given up the fight. Almost as if they like kittens. Nobody likes kittens, unless they’re human.”
“Maybe I could go over to the coroner’s office and get a couple of shots of the dead girl,” said Gran, a grim set to her face. “And if I could only convince that bonehead son of mine to send me some grisly pictures of the crime scene my flogging career would finally take off like a rocket.” With these words, she popped another little white pill into her mouth.
Almost immediately she felt the boost. These vitamins she’d purchased off a street vendor were a real lifesaver. Ever since she’d started taking them, she had so much energy she felt like she could take over the world.
“Can’t you talk Odelia into giving up those three menaces, Gran?”
“Mh?” asked Gran. “What’s that, toots?”
“The kittens,” said Harriet with an expressive eyeroll. “We need to get rid of the kittens.”
Gran frowned. She wasn’t following. “Get rid of the kittens? Why would you want to get rid of the kittens? They’re the cutest thing since you and Max and Dooley were kittens yourselves.”
“Oh, Gran,” said Harriet. “I was never a kitten. I came into this world fully formed.”
“Honey, you were most definitely a kitten once. And if I’m totally honest, you were even cuter than those three, but also a lot more annoying.”
Harriet stared at her, aghast. “Impossible. I was never annoying.”
“All kittens are annoying, especially when they dig up your geraniums and pee all over your tomato plants. But they’re so cute you forgive them for everything.”
Harriet placed her head on her front paws. “Still. We need to get rid of these three.”
Gran shook her head. “Harriet, honey. Sometimes you scare me.”
But then she forgot all about her cat’s petty gripes and focused on the task at hand: shooting the kind of footage people were dying to watch. And how she was going to accomplish that particular feat. As she thought, she popped another pill into her mouth.
She giggled when she felt the kick.
Boy, oh, boy. If only she’d discovered these vitamins sooner, she could have been president of the country. Better yet, she could have ruled the world. Or even the universe!
Chapter 18
The next morning, bright and early, Odelia was up even before me and Dooley. Even Chase was up, and he was usually the slower riser.
“Weird,” said Dooley, lifting his weary head. “When the humans start waking up before we do, you know there’s something wrong, Max.”
“I hear you, Dooley,” I said, yawning. And that’s when I saw them: the three kittens were lying between me and Dooley. Bim had her teeth clamped down on my tail and was gently chewing it, Bam was lying on his back, his paws dangling in the air, and Bom was resting his head on Dooley’s hindquarters.
We both stared at the threesome for a moment, then Dooley said softly, “They’re actually pretty cute when they’re asleep.”
“The key word being ‘asleep,’” I grunted.
“Oh, don’t be such a curmudgeon, Max,” said Odelia, who was rooting around in her sock drawer.
“I’m not. They’re annoying is what they are.”
“They’re not. Just look at them! They’re so cute!”
And she was off again, with the gibberish. Ugh.
“For one thing, they can’t stop biting my tail,” I said.
“They think it’s a pacifier,” said Odelia.
I didn’t even know what a pacifier was, nor was I interested to find out.
“Second, they climb the curtains, they pee in the plants, they dig for the roots, they eat my food, they drop little balls of paper into my water bowl… Do I have to go on?”
“All true, but they’re also very, very cute,” she said, and tickled Bom until he giggled and crowed with delight.
Ugh. Yes, they were. Even I, official member of the Cat Curmudgeon Club, had to admit that kittens were cute.
“Harriet wants to know how long they’re going to stay,” said Dooley. “I don’t think she likes them a lot either.”
“Harriet is a curmudgeon, too, and so is Brutus and so are you, Dooley. There’s actually a lot you can learn from these little guys. They’re playful, they don’t grumble or nag, they’re still looking at the world with wondrous eyes and they’re so, so cuuuuuute!”
“You’re doing it again, babe,” said Chase, walking in from the bathroom. He had casually slapped a towel around his waist, and was displaying that finely honed musculature some human females go all gaga over—almost as gaga as they go over babies or, yes, kittens.
Odelia went gaga now, jumping into Chase’s arms. “I’m a crazy cat lady, you told me so yourself, crazy cat dude!”
“Yes, but they’re so cuuuuute!” he said with a wide grin.
Kissing ensued, and Dooley a
nd I dutifully covered the kittens’ eyes.
They did not need to see this.
“So Clarice told us something weird last night,” I said when Chase had disappeared down the stairs to start breakfast.
“Oh? What did she say?”
“She said Gran is taking pills and going up and then going down.”
“She’s also crashing and burning,” said Dooley. “Like a rocket.”
Odelia frowned. “Pills? What pills?”
“They’re not what she thinks they are,” said Dooley.
“She mentioned ecstasy?” I said.
“Oh, my God,” Odelia muttered. “Are you sure that’s the word she used?”
“Uh-huh. Pretty sure. Ecstasy. Overwhelming feeling of great joy?” Gran had never struck me as a particularly ecstatic person, but then maybe she had her moments in private.
“Ecstasy is a drug. People take it so they can party long and hard. It gives you an energy boost and a sense of euphoria but it’s highly addictive and can also make you very, very sick. If Gran is taking ecstasy, she shouldn’t. How did Clarice know?”
I shrugged. “She didn’t say. But you know Clarice. She has her sources.”
“Just like me,” said Odelia with a smile. “Thanks for the warning, you guys. Looks like Gran is buying something off some guy that she shouldn’t. I wonder why she didn’t tell me.”
“Have you made any progress with the case?” I asked.
“Not much. Today I’m going to start interviewing people. Wanna come?”
“Oh, sure,” I said, my heart making a little jump of joy. Anything to be away from these three cuuuuuuute kittens.