by Nic Saint
Odelia got up from the couch and limped over to the woman. She then held her in a warm hug. “I understand,” she said softly. “Of course I understand. And it’s fine.”
And she did. And it was.
Odelia held her for a long time, until the sobs subsided. Marge handed her a tissue, and Elsie gratefully took it. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “You must think I’m an idiot.”
“We don’t,” Marge assured her. “We’ve all been there, sweetie.”
Elsie glanced at the kittens, and Odelia could see the love in her eyes.
“You can have them back,” she said. “Only I already named them. Bim, Bam and Bom.”
Elsie laughed through her tears. “Bim, Bam and Bom?”
“My grandmother’s idea. Admittedly, she’s a little crazy.”
Elsie laughed again, and then Odelia led her over to the curtains, where the three little babies were dangling happily. Odelia plucked them from her curtains and handed them to Elsie, who hugged them with such tenderness Odelia knew she was doing the right thing.
“Thanks,” said Elsie with a shaky voice. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”
“There’s one condition, though.”
“Anything.”
“I can come visit them. And they can come visit us. Cause we’ve grown very fond of these three little babies.”
“Of course,” said Elsie. “As much as you want.”
Suddenly a loud snuffle could be heard. They all looked down. It was Harriet.
“Are they going away?” asked the white cat.
Odelia nodded, and Max confirmed, “They’re going back home.”
“I’m going to miss them,” said Harriet. “They’re so cuuuuuuuuuuuute!”
Epilogue
Odelia was seated in her usual chair, only her right leg had been propped up on a second chair. She’d twisted her ankle, but she’d assured us she was going to be just fine.
“I don’t like how Odelia keeps getting hurt by these murderous people,” said Dooley, who was lying next to me on Marge and Tex’s porch swing.
“I don’t like it either,” I said. “But I guess that’s the nature of the job.”
“What, reporter?”
“No, sleuth.”
“I think she’s a great sleuth,” said Brutus. “In fact she’s probably the greatest sleuth ever since they invented sleuths.”
“Nobody invented sleuths, Brutus,” said Harriet.
“Of course they did. Or do you think there have always been sleuths? Someone must have been the first sleuth, and that person invented sleuthing.”
“Well, I don’t care who was the first one, I just wish Odelia would be more careful and not fall down stairs or almost get shot or stabbed or whatever.”
“She’s promised to be more careful,” I said. “And I’m sure Chase will make sure she keeps her promise.”
Chase had been at Odelia’s every beck and call, catering to her every need, and fussing over her at every turn. It had ingratiated him to us even more, if that was possible.
“I still can’t believe that Jeb’s daughter was behind this whole thing,” said Harriet. “She seemed like such a nice little poppet.”
“A nice little murderous poppet,” Brutus growled.
Fae had made a full confession and would soon appear in court. It was hard to believe that someone so young could commit an act so atrocious, but there it was.
“I heard that she used to hurt cats,” said Harriet.
“Where did you hear that?” asked Brutus.
“Hurt cats?” said Dooley, stunned. “But that’s terrible!”
“Tigger told me, and he heard it from Buster, the hairdresser’s cat, who heard it from one of the customers. Yes, she hurt little kittens when she was only a little girl herself. She was in therapy for a while, after her parents found out.”
“Obviously it didn’t stick,” said Brutus.
“But that’s awful!” Dooley cried.
“Yeah, that wasn’t very nice,” Harriet admitted.
“Not nice! How can anyone hurt a little kitten!” Dooley wailed.
Harriet had finally broken down and had accepted the kittens into her heart. A little late, though, for they’d gone home with Elsie.
“I need that video, Alec,” Gran was saying.
“You can’t have it! That video is police property now, not to mention evidence. You can’t just post police evidence on your blog.”
“Flog, not blog.”
“Vlog, Gran,” said Odelia. “Not flog.”
“Vlog, flog, who cares! I need that video. I’ll get millions of followers if I can just post that video, and—”
“And finally trump Scarlett? You should be ashamed of yourself, Mom,” said Marge. “Showing such a horrible video just to get more likes and followers. That’s just wrong.”
Gran seemed taken aback by this, then she nodded. “You know what, Marge, I think you may have a point.”
“Of course I have a point! If you post that video you’re no better than Scarlett who posts videos of her cleavage just to attract more views, or those women shaking their butts.”
“Murder isn’t the same as cleavage or butts,” said Tex, muttering his two cents. “Just saying.”
He was flipping burgers on the grill, and was actually getting pretty good at it, too.
“I still think it’s amazing how Odelia caught that girl,” said Chase, who still hadn’t gotten over the fact that his first hunch had been wrong and that Odelia was right.
“Intuition, honey,” said Marge, giving the burly cop’s shoulder a squeeze. “More potato salad?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Chase, as Marge ladled a big helping onto his plate.
“And there’s chocolate cake for dessert, so leave some space in that stomach of yours.”
“Oh, the kid’s got a big stomach,” said Uncle Alec, slapping his own voluminous belly.
“You know?” said Gran. “Maybe I should give this whole flogging thing a rest. You’re right, Marge. Posting all that horrible stuff online just to get a couple more views is just not right. Maybe from now on I’ll post videos of cute kittens instead. How about that?”
“That’s the spirit,” said Uncle Alec, raising his glass in a toast.
“So what’s going to happen to Jeb now?” asked Marge.
“Looks like he’s cleaning up his act,” said Odelia. “There may even be a reconciliation in the works between him and Helena, who’s pretty devastated after what their daughter did.”
“She knew, didn’t she?”
“Fae told her just before we arrived for that second interview. That’s why she was crying so hard. She knew but didn’t know what to do. If she told the police, her daughter was going to jail. And if she didn’t, her ex-husband was. Either way, she was in hell.”
“I can only imagine what that must be like,” said Marge. “For your own daughter to do something so horrific, so evil.” She shivered.
“Let’s not talk about terrible stuff like that anymore,” said Gran. “Let’s focus on the good stuff and forget about murder and mayhem for a moment.” She raised her own glass. “To Odelia. The finest sleuth in Hampton Cove, maybe even the entire county.”
“Odelia,” said the others, and all drank to my human’s health.
“Pity we can’t toast her,” said Dooley.
“We can take good care of her,” I said. “That’s all she needs.”
“You know,” said Harriet. “I have an idea.”
Uh-oh. “Yes?” I said tentatively.
“Why don’t we suggest to Odelia that she adopt three new kittens. We can name them Bim 2, Bam 2 and Bom 2, and we’ll all take care of them together.”
Dooley and Brutus and I shared a look, then we all shook our heads.
“As much as I love Bim, Bam and Bom,” said Dooley, “I think four cats is enough.”
“Agreed,” Brutus grunted.
“Agreed,” I said.
Harriet rolled he
r eyes. “You guys! First you tell me to love kittens, and now that I finally do, you tell me not to! You’re more fickle than me! And that’s saying something.”
We all laughed at this, even Harriet.
And then Chase came walking over, and handed us all pieces of fresh burger, and for a few moments the only sound that could be heard was four cats munching on patties, and six humans munching on burgers, while more meat was gently sizzling on the grill.
Suddenly a black cloud rose up from the grill, and Tex shouted, “Darn it! Not again!”
THE END
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About Nic
Nic Saint is the pen name for writing couple Nick and Nicole Saint. They’ve penned novels in the romance, cat sleuth, middle grade, suspense, comedy and cozy mystery genres. Nicole has a background in accounting and Nick in political science and before being struck by the writing bug the Saints worked odd jobs around the world (including massage therapist in Mexico, gardener in Italy, restaurant manager in India, and Berlitz teacher in Belgium).
When they’re not writing they enjoy Christmas-themed Hallmark movies (whether it’s Christmas or not), all manner of pastry, comic books, a daily dose of yoga (to limber up those limbs), and spoiling their big red tomcat Tommy.
www.nicsaint.com
Also by Nic Saint
The Mysteries of Max
Purrfect Murder
Purrfectly Deadly
Purrfect Revenge
Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)
Purrfect Heat
Purrfect Crime
Purrfect Rivalry
Box Set 2 (Books 4-6)
Purrfect Peril
Purrfect Secret
Purrfect Alibi
Box Set 3 (Books 7-9)
Purrfect Obsession
Purrfect Betrayal
Nora Steel
Murder Retreat
The Kellys
Murder Motel
Death in Suburbia
Emily Stone
Murder at the Art Class
Washington & Jefferson
First Shot
Alice Whitehouse
Spooky Times
Spooky Trills
Spooky End
Spooky Spells
Ghosts of London
Between a Ghost and a Spooky Place
Public Ghost Number One
Ghost Save the Queen
Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)
A Tale of Two Harrys
Ghost of Girlband Past
Ghostlier Things
Charleneland
Deadly Ride
Final Ride
Neighborhood Witch Committee
Witchy Start
Witchy Worries
Witchy Wishes
Saffron Diffley
Crime and Retribution
Vice and Verdict
The B-Team
Once Upon a Spy
Tate-à-Tate
Enemy of the Tates
Ghosts vs. Spies
The Ghost Who Came in from the Cold
Witchy Fingers
Witchy Trouble
Witchy Hexations
Witchy Possessions
Witchy Riches
Box Set 1 (Books 1-4)
The Mysteries of Bell & Whitehouse
One Spoonful of Trouble
Two Scoops of Murder
Three Shots of Disaster
Box Set 1 (Books 1-3)
A Twist of Wraith
A Touch of Ghost
A Clash of Spooks
Box Set 2 (Books 4-6)
The Stuffing of Nightmares
A Breath of Dead Air
An Act of Hodd
Box Set 3 (Books 7-9)
Standalone Novels
When in Bruges
The Whiskered Spy
ThrillFix
Homejacking
The Eighth Billionaire
The Wrong Woman
Short Stories
Felonies and Penalties (Saffron Diffley Short 1)
Purrfect Santa (Mysteries of Max Short 1)
Purrfect Christmas Mystery (Mysteries of Max Short 2)
Purrfect Christmas Miracle (Mysteries of Max Short 3)
Purrfectly Flealess (Mysteries of Max Short 4)
Copyright © 2019 by Nic Saint. All rights reserved.
Published by Puss in Print Publications.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval without permission in writing from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Editor: Chereese Graves.