by Nic Saint
Sirens could be heard in the distance, and Alec went outside to meet his people. Odelia found herself staring across the street, straight into Jeb’s secret hideaway. Only his hideaway hadn’t been as secret or hidden away as he would have hoped.
“What do you think?” asked Chase.
“Honestly? If Jack was the witness, that’s it for Jeb. Game over.” Then again, until they found that camera, all bets were off. She told him about their run-in with Conrad, and about Animal, the guy Jeb owed money to. She also touched on her conversations with Prunella Lemon and Fitz Priestley, and how little they’d yielded in fresh information.
“This Animal sounds like a good lead,” Chase said. “Though I hope you’re not thinking about approaching him all by your lonesome. Or, even worse, with your granny in tow.”
“I was hoping you’d join me. I’d feel a lot safer with you backing me up than Gran.”
“Although you have to admit your grandmother is a force to be reckoned with.”
They both watched through the window as Gran woke up, stretched, then looked around, confused why she was alone.
“Odelia!” she yelled. “Where the hell are you? Odeliaiaaaah!”
Chase grinned. “Time to go back to grannysitting, babe.”
Odelia rolled her eyes. “How are the kittens, by the way?”
“They’ve quickly turned into the talk of the station. Everyone—and I do mean everyone—has been finding excuses to go over and play with them. They’re incredible.”
“They are, aren’t they?”
“Alec is even thinking about adopting them, so he can bring them to work. Turn them into the station mascots.”
She laughed. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. He’s crazy about those little guys, and so am I, by the way.”
She placed an affectionate hand on his chest. “Crazy cat dude.”
“You know it.”
“Odeliaaaah!” Gran screamed. “Odeliaaaaaaaah!”
Chapter 31
For some reason I found mystifying, Gran was screaming for Odelia. Dooley and I walked up to her and told her Odelia was inside, and that we’d found a dead body.
“Not another dead body,” said Gran, then suddenly seemed to get an idea. She grabbed her smartphone, got out of the car with surprising alacrity, and raced to the house.
“Where is she going?” asked Dooley.
“No idea.”
“Don’t move that body until I get there!” she was yelling. “Don’t you dare move that body, Alec!”
She disappeared inside the house.
I shared a look with Dooley that spoke volumes. Humans, said that look. I know, Dooley’s look returned.
We casually strode up to the house and jumped up on the windowsill, from where we had a perfect view of the happenings inside. Chase stood chatting with Odelia, Uncle Alec stood barking at one of his deputies, and Gran? She demanded to see the dead body.
“Weird,” said Dooley.
“Really weird,” I agreed.
“Bloodthirsty,” Dooley added.
“Probably something to do with her vlog.”
“Her vlog?”
“Video blog. Grandma has a video blog where she chronicles her sleuthing adventures. She probably figured it needed a bit more verisimilitude.”
Dooley stared at me.
“Reality. She probably wants to add reality to her videos. Humans like blood.”
“They do, don’t they? I don’t.”
“Me neither.” I couldn’t even stand the sight of blood. Then again, we’re cats, and therefore peaceable creatures. Except Clarice, maybe, with her strange taste for rats.
“So now what?” said Dooley.
“Now we have a bad-boy actor in jail for murdering his ex-wife, his daughter who believes he’s innocent, a neighbor director who may or may not have harbored a grudge against Jeb for destroying his directing career, a bestselling novelist who may or may not have harbored a similar grudge against Jeb for destroying her noveling career, a dead paparazzo who was spying on Jeb and who may or may not have witnessed Jeb murdering his ex-wife and obtained photographic evidence, and a drug dealer and a loan shark who may or may not have wanted to get back at Jeb for not paying the money he owed.”
“A right royal mess,” was Dooley’s opinion, and I was inclined to agree with him. “So who did it?”
“You mean, if we agree that Jeb didn’t do it?”
“That’s what we believe, right?”
“That’s what his daughter believes. It’s not necessarily what we believe.”
“Oh, boy,” he said. “This case is giving me a headache.”
Odelia came walking out of the house, along with Gran, and gave us a ‘join me’ sign.
“Where are we going?” I asked as we crossed the street again.
“I’m going to offer my findings to my client,” she said.
We both looked puzzled, I guess, for Gran growled, “She’s going to talk to that Fae Pott again, and tell her what we’ve discovered so far. It’s what private investigators do. They keep their clients up to date.”
“Oh, right,” I said. “So did you get your pictures of the dead person, Gran?”
She directed a foul look over her shoulder. “Alec won’t let me, the jerk. Calls it interfering with his crime scene. I asked him if he wanted my fist to interfere with his face and he said he was putting his foot down. And then when I put my foot down on his foot, he kicked me out of the house. He kicked out his own mother! Can you believe that?”
I could, and I did, and I silently commended Uncle Alec on showing backbone.
Odelia pressed the bell, and moments later the gate swung open and we were walking down the driveway in the direction of the house. Even before we arrived there, Fae and Helena were already coming out of the house to meet us.
“And? What have you found?” asked Helena.
“And what are all those policemen doing across the street?” asked Fae.
“They found a dead body,” said Odelia.
“A dead body!” cried Helena. “Oh, dear lord.”
She darted a quick look at her daughter and burst into tears, Fae patting her on the back. “It’s going to be all right, Mom,” said the girl. “Isn’t that right, Odelia?”
Odelia nodded noncommittally, and we all moved inside.
I thought Helena looked even worse than the last time I’d seen her. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she was as pale as a ghost.
“She still loves Jeb,” said Dooley, who’d also noticed the woman’s distress.
“Yeah, she must have never stopped loving him,” I said, “in spite of the fact that he left her for a younger woman.”
Fae and Helena looked surprised that two cats followed in Odelia’s footsteps.
“Odelia loves her cats,” Gran explained. “They’re like her good-luck charms.”
“They are,” Odelia confirmed. “I don’t go anywhere without them.”
“I adore cats,” said Fae, kneeling down next to us and tickling our chins.
“I like her so much,” said Dooley.
“You like every human who tickles you,” I said. Well, so did I, actually. Fae certainly seemed nice. And I admired the way she stood up for her father and believed in his innocence, in spite of all the evidence against him. Loyalty like that was a rare trait.
As Odelia and Gran moved into the living room to give Helena and Fae an update on the investigation, Dooley and I took this opportunity to freely roam the house.
“Where is Sasha?” I asked, and just as I said it, the Bichon Frisé came tripping in from the kitchen, and greeted us like long lost friends.
“Max! Dooley! So nice to see you again!”
“Hey, Sasha,” I said.
“Why don’t I give you the grand tour this time?” the fluffy little doggie offered.
“That would be great!” I said, though I could have done without the escort. It’s hard to snoop freely if the owner’s lapdog i
s looking over your shoulder the whole time.
As it turned out, there wasn’t all that much to be gleaned. In the study a large portrait of Jeb Pott was hung over the fireplace. It depicted him in his fresh-faced heyday, before he had allowed himself to become a little seedy around the edges. There were also a bunch of movie posters from the same period, and a stack of DVDs, ordered chronologically.
“Clearly his family never stopped loving him,” said Dooley.
“Oh, no,” said Sasha. “Helena is still devoted to Jeb. Loves him to death.”
I shivered. I’d never cared for that particular expression.
We trudged up the stairs, to visit the master bedroom, which told us that Helena hadn’t remarried, for we could detect only her smell there, and only one pillow on the bed.
The next bedroom belonged to the girl, Fae. More posters of Jeb on the walls, and even a doll depicting him as Captain Blood, his breakout role. A book was lying on the nightstand. It was called When You Left Me, and I scanned the blurb, more out of boredom than because I thought it would offer up any valuable clues.
“This is where I sleep,” said Sasha proudly, jumping on top of the bed.
“Nice,” I said, not all that interested. “Dooley and I sleep at the foot of the bed, too. Isn’t that right, Dooley?”
“We sleep until our humans sleeps, then we hit the road,” said Dooley.
“Yeah, we like to head out at night,” I said. “Places to go, cats to see…”
“Harsh,” said Sasha reproachfully. “I keep my human company all night long. I never leave her side—which is a lot of work,” she added defensively when we merely stared at her. “I have two humans, you see, and I try to divide my time equally between them. Fair is fair. So if I’ve spent the morning with Fae, I try to spend the afternoon with Helena. And when I’ve spent one night with Helena, I try to spend the next night with Fae. Hard to keep up.”
Looked like this dog needed a time management app.
“Look at this,” said Dooley suddenly. I jumped down from the nightstand and joined him in front of what looked like a shrine dedicated to Fae’s father’s career. It was a photo display board, a linear depiction of his career, with snapshots from all of his movies and his life. There were also pictures of Jeb and his first wife together on holiday, pictures of Fae seated on Jeb’s shoulder grinning at the camera in front of a snowy mountain peak. Fae and her daddy in Disneyland, riding one of the big rollercoasters and yelling at the camera…
“Poor girl,” said Dooley.
“Yeah, it’s sad,” Sasha agreed.
“To have to watch your dad go to prison must be tough,” I said. “I can totally see why she hired Odelia.”
“I hope she proves Jeb’s innocence,” said Sasha.
“Fae could be wrong, of course. It’s probably hard for a daughter to accept that her father is a ruthless killer.”
“I hope she’s right,” said Sasha.
The three of us stared up at those pictures, and all heaved deep sighs.
Tough case.
“Max! Dooley!” Odelia’s voice sounded from downstairs.
“That’s our cue,” I told Sasha. “Time to go.”
“Oh, you can’t leave yet,” said the dog. “I haven’t shown you my basket.”
“Um… maybe next time,” I said, really not all that interested in Sasha’s basket. Now if she’d said she wanted us to see her food bowl…
We arrived in the foyer just in time to watch Odelia and Gran say their goodbyes to Helena and Fae. Helena had been crying again, and as we walked out she had trouble staying composed. We waved at Sasha, whom Fae had picked up, and the door closed.
Chapter 32
That night, two hooded figures could be seen walking the streets of some of the more shady nooks of Hampton Cove.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” asked one hooded figure.
“Not entirely,” said the other.
They were none other than Odelia and Chase, who were determined to get in touch with a man who called himself the Animal.
Gran had wanted to tag along, too, but Odelia had strictly forbidden her. Meeting an animal like Animal was not suitable for old ladies, she’d said, to which Gran had responded with a particular gesture of the hand that was strictly R-rated.
“Are you sure we’re going to find this guy there?” asked Odelia.
“Pretty sure. At least that’s what my informant told me.”
“Who is your informant?”
“You have your secrets, I have mine, babe,” said Chase with a grin.
“You’re not still sore about me refusing to reveal my sources, are you?”
“Of course not. Intrepid reporters have to protect their sources from savage cops like me.”
“Ha ha.”
Odelia’s sources were Max and Dooley—not something she could reveal to Chase.
“So have you found out what happened to Jack Palmer yet?”
“Looks like he fell through the staircase and broke his neck. The place is pretty ramshackle.”
“What about the missing camera?”
“We’re still looking into that. I talked to his editor. He said he sent him down here to get the scoop on Jeb’s life in the Hamptons and that’s what he was doing at the house.”
“No sign of a struggle, fingerprints, footprints…”
“Funny that you should ask. There are faint traces of brush strokes in both the living room, hallway, and in front of the entrance to the basement.”
“As if someone was there, and tried to cover their tracks.”
“Exactly. But so far that’s all we’ve got. I’m still going over Jack’s phone records, bank statements, anything that might shed some light on those final couple of days.”
They’d arrived at a night club, pulsating music spilling out into the street, people standing around, smoking and drinking and laughing. It was called the Cocky Cauldron, and was one of the more popular clubs in Hampton Cove right now.
“Is he in there, you think?”
“That’s what my sources told me.”
“Let’s take a look,” she said, and took off her hooded sweater. Underneath, she was dressed in a sequined blue top, neon-pink leggings and glittery gold platform shoes. She was also wearing a blond wig.
Next it was Chase’s turn. He took off his sweater and Odelia clapped a hand to her mouth to stop from bursting out laughing.
Chase did a little twirl. He was wearing a Superman cape, Superman shirt, and Superman leggings. “Ta-dah,” he said. “How do I look?”
“Oh, I have to take a picture.”
She took out her phone and made a selfie of the two of them. They looked priceless.
A burly bouncer opened the door, cocking an eyebrow at Chase, and they went in. A roaring wave of disco music greeted them, and the noise of hundreds of party people.
“How weird for a loan shark to own a gay disco!” Odelia shouted over the din.
“I really hope my informant is right about this—or else I’m about to make a gigantic fool of myself!” Chase shouted back.
Men dressed like bikers or cops or outfitted in black leather from head to toe stared at Odelia. She was probably the only woman in the club. But when they realized she’d dressed up as Agnetha Fältskog of ABBA fame, they greeted her with cheers and high-fives.
They reached the bar and Chase leaned over. “We’re looking for Tino!” he shouted.
The bartender, who was dressed in a tank top and studded jockstrap, gestured to the far corner of the dance floor. Chase nodded his thanks and gave the guy his order. Loaded up with two daiquiris, they proceeded along the dance floor, threading their way through the dancing frenzy and slowly but gradually bearing down on their intended target: the Animal.
The music was pumping, and the crowd was wild, as a DJ spurred them on. Couples stood kissing and Odelia couldn’t stop grinning as she followed Chase, who was like an icebreaker driving a wedge through the sea of gyrating and sweating b
odies. His Superman outfit attracted a lot of attention, as did his fit physique, and several men seemed more than eager to have him fill their dance card. He stoically parried all attempts to be distracted from his mission, though, and, like a regular Superman, proceeded with laser focus.
Finally, they arrived at a booth on the other side, where a diminutive man who was dressed like Kermit the Frog sat with three burly bodyguards, overseeing the seething masses. One of the bodyguards was a man with a scar along his face, and the tattoo of a scorpion on his neck. Cicero. He did not look pleased to see either Chase or Odelia.
“Tino Krawczalis?” Chase asked, bending over to make himself heard.
Immediately, the bodyguards stirred, but Tino motioned for them to back off.
“Who wants to know?” he asked, blatantly checking Chase out.
“My name is Chase Kingsley, and this is Odelia Poole. Jeb Pott’s daughter asked us to investigate his ex-wife’s murder.”
The guy gave Chase a long look of appraisal, then nodded to his beefy sidekicks, who made themselves scarce. Cicero, as he walked off, gave Odelia a lascivious glance, and when he grinned, showcased more metal in his mouth than a steelworks. She blithely ignored him.
Instead of inviting Odelia and Chase to join him in his booth, Tino got up and gestured for them to follow him. He weaved his way along the other tables, then placed his palm against a mirror. Something flashed green, and the mirror swung open. A hidden door.
On the other side was a room decorated like a small salon, all red velvet and gilt furniture. Privacy was absolute, and yet they could still see what was happening on the dance floor through a one-way mirror.
So this was how the owner of the infamous Cocky Cauldron got his kicks, Odelia thought.
Tino’s nickname suited him: the man did look like an animal, though not the animal she’d anticipated. He looked like a frog, with outsized, heavy-lidded eyes and a squashed-up face. His Kermit the Frog suit sat snugly around a five-foot lithe frame. The guy was short.
If this man was the head of a crime syndicate, he certainly didn’t look it.