by Nic Saint
“Do we have to go to Vena, Odelia?” asked Max.
“Yes, you do. You don’t want to suffer these fleas forever, do you?”
“Maybe they’ll, you know, get tired of me and jump ship?”
“No, they won’t. They’ll lay eggs and more fleas will come and you’ll never get rid of them.”
He slumped and she decided to cut all this back-and-forth short and picked both him and Dooley up. People were already stopping and staring at the crazy lady talking to her cats. She knew the Poole women had a reputation in town for being cat ladies, and she didn’t want to make it worse by becoming a public display of crazy. Although her grandmother probably cornered the market in that particular area.
She carried both cats to her beat-up old pickup, which she’d parked in front of her dad’s office, and deposited them inside.
They looked remarkably glum, which was only natural, of course. Poor darlings.
She got behind the wheel, managed to make the car’s engine cough and purr, and navigated the old thing into traffic. “Are Brutus and Harriet at the house?” she asked.
Max and Dooley both nodded automatically, still looking sandbagged.
“Don’t worry, you guys,” she said in an attempt to cheer them up. “Vena will get rid of these pests in no time. You’ll see. She told me she’s seen half of Hampton Cove’s cat population already and she’s expecting the other half this afternoon. It would seem everyone and his tabby has caught this affliction today.”
“What were you doing at the hotel?” asked Max, showing the first signs of animation since she’d picked him up at Vickery’s store.
“I was going to tell you about that. Do you remember those beer commercials? The Most Fascinating Man in the World ones?”
“The old bearded man with his funny stories and the two pretty ladies?”
“That’s the one. His name is Burt Goldsmith, and I was going to interview him this morning. Only turns out he got blown up.”
Max did a double take. “Blown up?”
“Yeah, his hotel room exploded and he along with it.”
“Maybe he was filming one of his commercials and something went wrong?”
“I don’t think so. Either he killed himself—by accident or on purpose—or…” Her expression turned grim and she clutched the steering wheel a little firmer. “He was killed.”
“Do you want us to snoop around?” asked Max.
“If you could, that would be wonderful,” she said.
Her cats were her secret weapon as a reporter. They gave her the kinds of scoops other journos could only dream of. And since they were plugged into the local feline network, they collected stories that were pure gold once they made it into print.
“Odelia?” asked Dooley, speaking up for the first time since he got into the car.
“Uh-huh?” she said as she turned down the street where she lived.
“Are we going to die?”
She glanced in the rearview mirror. “Oh, Dooley. Of course you’re not going to die. It’s fleas—not cancer. By this time tomorrow you’ll have forgotten about the whole thing.”
“But—remember the movie the other night? Where Rose from Titanic died?”
Max heaved an annoyed grunt. “Not Rose from Titanic again, Dooley!”
“Rose from Titanic died,” Dooley insisted stubbornly, “and so did Gwyneth and a whole bunch of other nice people, except for Matt Damon for some reason. And until they discovered patient zero and the bat and pig poop they had no way of stopping the disease.”
“This isn’t the same thing,” she assured him while suppressing a smile. Dooley had a flair for the dramatic, and for some reason always thought he was going to die. “It’s fleas, not some terrible virus. And you know that wasn’t Rose from Titanic, right? Kate Winslet is an actress. She simply played a part. She’s alive and well and probably still living in that nice English cottage from The Holiday.” Though that was probably only true in the movie as well.
“Oh,” said Dooley as he thought about this for a moment. It was obvious she’d given him food for thought.
“Odelia?” asked Max.
“Uh-huh,” she said, parking the car in front of the house.
“Is Chase going to be living with us from now on?”
She’d extracted the key from the ignition and now sat poised, not expecting this particular question. At all. “Um…”
“I mean, he’s been sleeping in your bed for the past four nights. And he’s got his toothbrush and his toothpaste up in the cup in the bathroom and his underwear on that shelf you cleared for him in the bedroom closet, so…”
She blinked and turned to face her cats. They both looked at her expectantly.
“Um…”
“He seems nice,” Dooley commented, that sandbagged look slightly waning.
“Yeah, he seems very nice,” Max added. “And he killed a flea.”
“Two fleas,” said Dooley. “He’s a hero. A flea-killing hero.”
“Truth is, guys, I don’t know. I like Chase. I like Chase a lot.”
“And he likes you,” Max offered.
“It would appear so,” she said with a laugh. “It’s just that… we’re taking things one step at a time. I wish I could tell you what the future will bring, but I can’t. You see, human relationships are like puzzles. Sometimes you know all the pieces will fit from the moment you dump those pieces out on the table. Other times? You just don’t know. Maybe things look good for a while, and then suddenly you discover the puzzle company decided to short you a piece and without it you can’t complete the puzzle. Other times you get bored laying that puzzle halfway through or things are just too hard and complicated and you give up.”
Max and Dooley were frowning seriously. The puzzle analogy probably wasn’t the best one she could have come up with, but there was some truth to it. She liked Chase, and she liked the way he made her feel. But it was early days, and she had no idea if he was a keeper or not. And neither, probably, did he. At any rate, things were going great, and she had no intention of taking them further by making big promises or launching big ambitious plans. Plans had a way of backfiring on her. Big time. So she wasn’t going to jinx anything at this point when everything was humming along fine.
She gave them both a poke in the tummy. “You guys sit tight and I’ll pick up Harriet and Brutus, okay?”
As she slammed the door, Max and Dooley were still brooding. She smiled to herself. Sometimes, she thought, her cats were almost more human than most humans she knew.
And a heck of a lot smarter, too.
Chapter 9
Chase and Chief Alec took a seat on one of those plush overstuffed chairs in the hotel lobby. With the fire marshals going over Burt Goldsmith’s room with a fine-tooth comb, trying to figure out what exactly happened there, the techies wrapping up Burt’s body and transferring it to their van, and Alec’s people talking to staff and guests, they took a respite.
“Do you really think your mom had Burt Goldsmith’s son?” asked Chase.
Chief Alec patted at the few remaining strands of hair on his wide dome and groaned. “I don’t know what to think, buddy. You would imagine a woman would know if she popped out a second son at some point in the past.”
“She says she doesn’t remember. Which doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”
Alec gave him his best scowl. “Wipe that grin off your face, Chase. I’m begging you.”
Try as he might, though, Chase could not comply. The situation was simply too outrageous. “Could be that your mother is one of those women who don’t even notice they’re pregnant, then pop out a newborn without paying attention and go on about their business without a second glance.” At least that was the story Grandma had told them.
“I find that very hard to believe. And I find it equally hard to believe Scarlett Canyon would have the exact same story to tell. About the baby just suddenly… being there, I mean.” He waved his hands about a bit. “I mean—how can a ba
by just… pop?! That’s impossible!”
“And yet it happened, if your mother is to be believed.”
The Chief groaned some more. The big man was clearly in the throes of some extreme emotion. It’s not every day that a man discovers he has a secret brother who’s the son of the Most Fascinating Man in the World. “You wanna know what I think?”
“I definitely do, Alec. I definitely do.” Alec gave him an extremely dirty look and Chase laughed, clapping the older man on the back. “I’m sorry. It’s just funny is all.”
“Maybe for you it is. For me this is like a nightmare and I just can’t seem to wake up.”
“Tell me, big guy. What is it you think?”
Alec took a deep breath. “I think that Mom decided she wants some of those Goldsmith millions for herself, and by pretending to be Burt’s son’s long-lost mother, she just might get her hands on a big chunk of it.”
“You dare accuse your own mother of being a gold digger?”
“As a matter of fact I do. I think Mom is sick and tired of having to ask her son-in-law for handouts and now that she saw her chance clear to topping up her bank account with a nice fresh pile of cash she’s not going to let that golden opportunity slip through her fingers.”
Alec had a point. Grandma Muffin liked to spend money like water. If she wasn’t buying online beauty treatments she was being duped by scammer apps on the App Store and maxing out the credit cards Tex Poole kept giving her. The lady liked to live big, and since Tex had taken away those very credit cards, she wasn’t happy.
“I think this whole thing will shake out just fine,” Chase said, leaning back and watching the goings-on in the lobby of this fine hotel. His grandfather had stayed here, though not in Burt’s room, and as his thoughts turned to the old man, a sense of well-being spread through him. He might be a simple cop in a small town, but he had big plans. And those big plans involved starting a family with a particular feisty blond-haired reporter. If only this particular reporter felt the same way about him as he felt about her.
Alec must have sensed this shift in his mental processes, for he eyed him intently.
After a moment, Chase laughed and said, “What?”
“You haven’t been home a lot lately, have you?”
“No, sir, I haven’t.”
He’d been bunking with Alec since arriving in town, something for which he was still mighty grateful. In the process, he and the chief of police had struck up a fine friendship, and he had a feeling the older man was about to abuse that friendship by giving him a piece of advice. He didn’t mind. He could use all the advice Odelia’s uncle cared to dispense.
“Been sleeping over at my niece’s place?”
“Yes, sir, as a matter of fact I have.”
“You like that girl, don’t you, son?”
He smiled widely. “You got my number, Alec. I do like your niece. In fact I don’t think it’s too much to say that I love her.”
“Oh, bringing out the L word, huh?”
“Yes, sir. Only the L word will do for what I feel for Odelia Poole.”
“Well, let me give you a piece of advice, son.”
Here it came.
“The way to Odelia’s heart is those damn cats of hers.”
He looked up. Huh? “Say what?”
Alec poked a finger in Chase’s chest for emphasis. “Shower those cats with love and affection and she’ll look upon you differently. That’s my piece of advice for you.”
For a moment he thought the other man had lost it. “Odelia’s cats.”
“Max, Dooley and Harriet. Focus on those three. I don’t know about Brutus. He’s something of an interloper.”
“Like me.”
Alec didn’t laugh. “Maybe you are, maybe you ain’t. Too soon to tell.”
He gulped a little. “But she likes me, right?”
The chief wiggled his head. “Eh. I guess she does. The thing you need to know about Odelia is that she’s been through a lot, son. She’s been with plenty of fellas in her time and none of them turned out the way she hoped. She’s taking a mighty big leap letting you sleep over. As far as I know that’s a first for her.” And there was that finger again, poking his chest. Alec was leaning in now, too, his face inches from Chase’s. “So don’t you go and break that girl’s heart now, you hear?”
“You know I won’t.”
“Cause if you break my favorite niece’s heart, I’ll break your neck, understand?”
“I thought Odelia was your only niece?” he quipped.
But Alec didn’t crack a smile. The man was serious. “Promise me.”
“I promise, I promise. I will not break your favorite niece’s heart.”
“Fine.” He relaxed a little. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I don’t think it’s too much to say that you’re by far my favorite of Odelia’s many boyfriends so far.”
“That’s… great to hear. I guess.”
Alec slung a hand around his shoulder and gave him a fatherly squeeze. “Keep this up and you might even marry into the family.” Just then, Grandma Muffin came stalking through the lobby, shouting a few carefully chosen obscenities at Scarlett Canyon, who was teetering on high heels in front of her and shouting right back. “Not sure that’s such a good idea, though, considering this family of mine is batshit crazy,” Chief Alec added with a sigh.
Chapter 10
Vena’s was bustling like never before. In fact I don’t think I’d ever seen so many cats squeezed into the tiny waiting room before. All of them were glancing around morosely, and all of them were in a plaintive mood, the topic of fleas dominating every conversation. Even Shanille was there, the leader of cat choir and Father Reilly’s cat. Father Reilly himself was looking glum, possibly not used to taking time out of his busy schedule to take his cat to the vet.
Since it was standing-room only, Odelia leaned against the wall, the four of us nicely bundled at her feet.
“Your cats are so well-behaved!” a woman remarked, referring to the way we were the only cats not cooped up in those plastic cage contraptions. “How do you manage?”
Odelia shrugged. “I tan their hides if they step out of line. Nice crack of the whip.”
The woman pressed her lips together and shook her head. No sense of humor.
Odelia didn’t need to ‘tan our hides’ to make us behave. We were so terrified to visit Vena’s that we didn’t stir an inch from the spot where Odelia had plunked us down. And so were the other cats. You may think that cats love going to the vet. Think again. We hate the vet. We hate to be prodded and pricked and having our gums checked and our tummies measured. It’s degrading. It’s humiliating. It’s very anti-cat. Sure, it’s supposed to be good for us. I don’t care. I still hate it. Now, though, with the notion that Vena would rid us of our flea infection, I was prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Not the other cats, though. They were all plaintively meowing up a storm.
Dooley, meanwhile, seemed to have other interests. He’d been brooding a lot on the drive over, and now it became clear about what. “So you said that the fact that Chase has moved in has something to do with babies, right?” he asked Harriet.
“Oh, Dooley,” she said, exasperated. “Are you still going on about that?”
“What did you mean when you said that?” he insisted stubbornly.
“Isn’t it obvious? When a human male and a human female move in together it’s because they want to make human babies.”
Dooley uttered a shocked gasp. “Odelia is having babies?”
“Of course she is. She’s a human female and human females need to have babies before a certain age. Something really old, though. Probably like twenty or something.”
Dooley turned to me. “How old is Odelia now?”
“No idea. Ten? Fifteen maybe?”
“That sounds about right,” Brutus agreed. “Chase is probably the same age as Odelia and I’m six and I know Chase is a lot older than me so he’s probab
ly ten years old by now. Fifteen at the outside,” he allowed.
“That means Odelia still has oodles of time to have human babies,” said Dooley. “Years and years and years. So why have them now?!”
“It’s an urge,” Harriet knew. “Humans get this inexplicable urge to make babies. I think it’s very strange but there you are. Urges. They get them and Odelia is no exception.”
Odelia would have commented but the other humans in the room would have looked at her strangely if suddenly she broke out into meows. So she kept her mouth shut. It was hard for her, though, judging from the scarlet blush that had crept up her cheeks. Her lips were trembling, too, and if I hadn’t known any better I would have thought she was trying to keep from bursting out laughing. Which was impossible, of course, as we were having this very serious, very adult conversation right under her nose.
“She needs to control this urge,” Dooley said. “She needs to know that we’re her babies and she doesn’t need human babies so she needs to control this urge and she needs to control this urge now, before Chase does…” He turned to Harriet again, whom he seemed to consider the expert on all things human all of a sudden. “What part does Chase play in this whole baby making thing?”
Harriet frowned. “Well, he’s the one who needs to put the baby in her, obviously, so at some point he’ll probably…” She flicked her eyes to Dooley and then to me. “Has Dooley ever had The Talk?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I never gave him The Talk.”
“What talk?” asked Dooley.
“The Talk,” Harriet clarified.
“I don’t get it,” said Dooley.
Harriet sighed exaggeratedly. “Brutus. Please give Dooley The Talk.”
“Why do I have to give him The Talk? Why can’t you give him The Talk?”
“Because you’re a male and Dooley is a male and only males should give other males The Talk. It’s a rule.”
“It’s not a rule.”