Purrfect Obsession

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Purrfect Obsession Page 8

by Nic Saint


  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Brutus grumbled. “I get the picture.”

  Dooley pointed an imperious finger in my direction. “Messenger. Deliver my decree.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” I said. “You deliver your decree.”

  “Better yet, we’ll deliver my decree together,” Dooley said. Then, addressing Brutus, added, “Don’t you worry about a thing. When in doubt, grovel, and I’m about to grovel on your behalf like no cat has ever groveled since that first cat crawled out of the woods and offered his services as a mouser to that first human in exchange for a roof over his head.”

  And off we went, with Brutus’s halfhearted blessings, to heal this rift.

  “Now what is it?” Harriet said, none too pleased with my swift return.

  This time I was prepared to let Dooley do the talking. He didn’t disappoint.

  He knelt in front of Harriet. “Oh, great and noble one. Oh, most beautiful cat in all of existence. Oh, most gorgeous creature ever to walk the face of this earth. Oh, sweet and—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she said. “Get on with it.” She looked oddly pleased, though. Never underestimate the power of a compliment. Or a barrage of them.

  “Brutus wants you to know he’s deeply, sincerely sorry. He also wants you to know that he knows that you know that he’s less than the dirt under your claws, less than the rats that infest the nooks and crannies of this town. Less than the muck that oozes out of the pipes when you unscrew that bulbous thingy underneath the sink to unclog the drain.”

  “Yuck,” Gran muttered.

  “I know all that,” said Harriet. “Now tell me something I don’t know.”

  “What are they talking about?” asked Tex.

  “Oh, more stuff,” said Marge vaguely. “Harriet, don’t you think it’s time you forgave that poor cat?”

  “No, I don’t,” she said. “He cheated on me with Darlene and I’ll never forget and I’ll definitely never forgive.”

  “He says he never sniffed Darlene’s butt,” I said, feeling it was time to set the record straight.

  “Oh, please. Tell him he’s a liar. I saw him sniff her butt.”

  “He was trying to tell her he wasn’t interested. That he only loves you.”

  “He had his nose up her butt!”

  “That was just a matter of perceptive,” said Dooley.

  “Perspective,” I corrected.

  “What?!” cried Harriet.

  “Perspective. Like when you think an object is far away while in fact it’s right in front of you. Darlene’s butt was here, while Brutus’s nose was there, and never the twain met.”

  “Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes, not impressed.

  “Oh, give the cat a break,” Marge said. “He almost drowned today.”

  “And was almost run over,” Tex added, happy that for once he could follow.

  “Yeah, he almost died twice today,” Marge said.

  Judging from Harriet’s expression, almost wasn’t good enough. She’d only be happy if Brutus was run over not once but three times in a row by a succession of vehicles, until he actually was a smudge on the asphalt, and preferably she’d see Darlene suffer the same fate.

  “Let’s go, Dooley,” I said finally. “This is no good. We’re wasting our time here.”

  “But he loves you, Harriet,” said Dooley. “Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  Harriet hesitated, but then her expression hardened. “No, it doesn’t. He hurt me, Dooley, and I’ll never be able to forgive him for that.”

  And Dooley and I were both making our way back to the other house when he said, “I didn’t know love was so complicated, Max.”

  “Oh, it is, buddy.”

  “Good thing we never got involved in something like that.”

  “Yeah, good thing,” I agreed.

  “I just hope Odelia and Chase never get into that kind of trouble. If we can’t even reconcile two cats, how are we ever going to reconcile two humans?”

  “Odelia and Chase are never going to get into that kind of trouble,” I said. “And you know why? Because Chase is smart. And so is Odelia. They’re both smart. And in love.”

  We entered the house and I was surprised to find Odelia seated on the couch, absentmindedly stroking Brutus’s fur. She looked distraught.

  “Oh, no!” I cried. “You broke up with Chase!”

  Chapter 19

  Odelia stared at Max. “Why would I break up with Chase?”

  “Um, no reason,” he said, looking sheepish after his outburst.

  “And where is Harriet?”

  “Next door. She won’t talk to me,” said Brutus sadly. He then looked up at Max and Dooley, who both shook their heads.

  Odelia decided to ignore her cats’ odd behavior. “You guys. I need to ask you a huge favor.”

  “Anything,” said Max instantly.

  “As long as it doesn’t involve groveling to Harriet,” said Dooley. “Because that doesn’t work. And believe me, we tried. Oh, boy, did we try.”

  “Right,” said Odelia after a moment’s hesitation. “The thing is, I think Dany and Wolf Langdon were having an affair.” In a few words, she briefed her cat menagerie about the events that had transpired at the meeting.

  “So you want us to break into the manor and take a peek at Wolf’s phone?” asked Max.

  “No, I’ll take care of that part myself. What I want you to do is talk to Wolf’s pet. If Wolf and Dany were having an affair that ended badly, he’ll know about it.”

  “Oh, Wolf has a pet. How nice. What kind of cat is it?” asked Max.

  “It’s not a cat. It’s a Chihuahua.”

  Her three cats were silent for a beat, then Max cried, “A dog?! You want us to talk to a dog?”

  “Not just any dog. A Chihuahua. I’ve seen him. He’s a very sweet and cute little fella. I’m sure you’ll get along great.”

  “Chihuahuas are dogs, Odelia,” Dooley pointed out. “And as a rule we’re not all that fond of dogs.”

  “We got along fine with the French bulldog that belonged to the Kenspeckles, remember?” said Max.

  “That was an exception to the rule,” said Brutus. “Most dogs are terrible creatures.”

  “Not this sweet, precious Chihuahua,” Odelia insisted. “He’s just so cute and cuddly and he has the sweetest, kindest disposition. You’ll see. You’ll just love, love, love him.”

  All three cats stared at her. Then Max took a deep breath and asked, “You’re not thinking about adopting a dog, are you, Odelia?”

  “N-no,” she said, but her hesitation gave her away. They all started howling again, so she held up her hands. “I have no concrete plans in that direction. Honest! But Chase likes dogs, and since he lives here now, it’s only fair to assume that at some point he’ll want to get a dog again. As long as he hadn’t settled down, that was out of the question, but now...”

  “Oh, God,” said Max, breathing heavy. “Oh, my God.”

  “This is the end,” said Dooley. “Finished. Kaput.”

  “I hate my life,” said Brutus. “I just hate it.”

  “You guys. I’m not saying we’re going to get a dog right now. At some point in the future, though, we might. Just might. Teensy, tiny chance.” She didn’t want to lie to them, even if they didn’t like it. Chase loved dogs, though, and she did, too. Most people fell into one of two categories: they were either a cat person or a dog person. Odelia, in spite of the fact that she could communicate with cats, loved both. And she was fairly sure that her cats would love whatever dog would grace their home with his or her presence in the future, too.

  “Dogs eat babies, you know,” said Dooley. “They do. I saw it on the Discovery channel.”

  “You did not,” said Max, then realized what Dooley was trying to accomplish, and quickly changed his tune. “It’s true. Dooley is right. I saw it myself. Dogs are notorious baby eaters. Snack on babies all the time. They like babies even more than bones. Truth.”

  “Not funn
y, Dooley,” said Odelia. “Now are you guys ready? Because as soon as that house is quiet I want to be ready to move. And in order to know when the coast is clear, we’re going to have to go on a stakeout.”

  “Stakeout!” Max cried. “Yay!”

  “What is a stakeout?” asked Dooley. “Does it involve steak?”

  “No, it does not involve steak,” said Odelia. “It involves us sitting and watching in a car and looking at Whitmore Manor until all the lights are out and it’s time to make a move.”

  “Is Harriet coming, too?” asked Brutus.

  “Of course!” said Odelia. “It wouldn’t be a stakeout if the gang wasn’t all there, right?”

  Brutus nodded morosely. The prospect of Harriet joining them didn’t seem to fill him with joy, as she’d expected it would. Then again, her cats were acting weird tonight.

  “Max, you better go and fetch Harriet. Tell her to get ready,” she said, then went up the stairs to change into something stakeouty.

  Five minutes later, she was dressed in black from head to toe: black leggings, black sneakers, black sweater. And she was toying with a black balaclava she’d once picked up at a second-hand store when suddenly she sensed she was no longer alone. She turned. Chase was studying her from the doorway.

  “Going on a stakeout?” he asked, an expression of amusement on his face.

  “Um, no, of course not. I’m... taking the cats for a walk.”

  “Babe, I may not know a lot about cats but one thing I do know is that you don’t take a cat for a walk.”

  “Most cats, no. But my cats are special.”

  “That, they are.” He walked up to her and pinned her arms to her side until he’d grasped the balaclava she’d been holding behind her back. He held it up. “Most dog walkers or, if such a thing exists, cat walkers, don’t wear a mask. You’re going to break into Whitmore Manor, aren’t you?”

  She laughed what she hoped was a careless laugh. “Of course not! Are you crazy? Why would I go and do a silly thing like that?”

  “Because you discovered that Wolf Langdon and Dany Cooper were having an affair and you’re hoping to find out more by breaking into Langdon’s room and digging through his phone.”

  She laughed again, with less conviction. “How—how did you know? About the affair, I mean?”

  “I’m a detective, Odelia. It’s my job to know stuff like that. And I had a long talk with Langdon’s wife this afternoon, who told me all about the affair. She also mentioned she assumes Langdon and Dany had been sexting a lot, but every time she tried to get her hands on her husband’s phone he made sure he had it on him. He even sleeps with that phone, keeping it tucked away underneath his pillow, his hand on top of it, just in case.”

  “That’s very unhealthy. All that radiation.”

  “That’s more urban legend than scientific fact, though, isn’t it?”

  “Still,” she said, and swallowed. Gazing into Chase’s eyes it wasn’t hard to see why criminals would succumb under the pressure of his quiet determination and confess all.

  “All right!” she finally cried, throwing up her hands. “I’m going to stake out Whitmore Manor and break in under the cover of darkness to check out the guy’s phone. So are you going to tell me I can’t go?”

  “Of course not. I’m going to tell you I’m coming with you. And I hope you won’t tell your uncle, because this operation will be one hundred percent unsanctioned and if we get caught you’ll have a great front-page story but I’ll probably get fired.”

  “I won’t tell my uncle if you won’t,” she said with a low voice and a smile on her face.

  He tilted up her chin, then pressed a warm kiss to her lips. “Hey, there, partner in crime,” he murmured. “I missed you tonight.”

  “You did? It wasn’t clear from the way you were chatting up that blonde.”

  “I wasn’t chatting up that blonde. I was trying to extract information from her.”

  “Hard to know the difference.”

  “That’s what makes police work so fascinating: nothing is what it seems.”

  She smiled. “Do you still prefer brunettes over blondes?”

  “I prefer this brunette,” he said, then deepened the kiss.

  A soft cough sounded behind them. When they turned, she saw it was Max. He was staring at them with a horrified expression on his furry face. “We’re ready when you are.”

  Chapter 20

  “I’m only doing this for Odelia,” Harriet said for the tenth time since we’d gotten into Chase’s truck.

  The four of us were in the backseat, with Chase at the wheel and Odelia riding shotgun.

  “We know you’re only doing this for Odelia,” I said. “And I, for one, think it’s very noble of you to put aside your differences and join us.”

  “I haven’t put aside any differences,” said Harriet through gritted teeth. The words came out in a low growl and Chase frowned and checked his rearview mirror.

  “One of your cats doesn’t sound happy, babe,” he said.

  “Oh, she’s probably nervous, that’s all,” said Odelia.

  “Nervous? How can she be nervous? She doesn’t have a clue where we’re going.”

  “Cats have an instinct for these things,” she explained.

  “Um, I guess,” he said doubtfully. Chase was not a big believer in the abilities of cats to solve murders. Then again, he also had no idea Odelia could understand every word we said and vice versa. Probably best to keep it that way, too, or else he might start interfering in this holy alliance between man and beast, as Tex had once called it.

  “The only reason I’m going along on this trip is because Odelia asked me to,” Harriet repeated, in case we hadn’t heard her the first dozen times. “You’re not off the hook, Brutus.”

  “I understand that and I regret it deeply,” said Brutus. “What more can I do than to apologize once again for any misunderstanding my behavior may have caused and to—”

  “Misunderstanding? That was no misunderstanding. Your nose was practically glued to Darlene’s butt.”

  “It was a case of wrong perspective!” he cried.

  “Yeah, just keep telling yourself that,” she said, and looked out the window, determined not to give Brutus another glance.

  “So what is our mission, Max?” asked Dooley.

  “Mission. Nice,” said Brutus with a chuckle. When Harriet shot him a frosty glance, breaking her own rule not to look at him, the chuckle turned into a choked chortle, then quickly died away.

  “Our mission—should we choose to accept it—is to talk to that Chihuahua and extract information from the mutt with any means at our disposal.”

  “Chihuahua?” said Harriet, looking up in surprise. “Nobody said anything about a dog.”

  “A Chihuahua, as Odelia has gone to great pains to explain, is not just any dog. A Chihuahua is a noble breed and amongst the sweetest and most innocuous of its kind. I’m sure we’ll get along great with the little mutt.”

  “I’m not going near that dog. No way. Dogs stink.”

  In the front seat, Odelia suppressed a snicker, causing Chase to give her a look of concern.

  “Dogs don’t stink,” I said, with a glance at the back of Odelia’s head. I was nothing if not a loyal soldier to my general. So I dutifully conveyed her words to the rest of her troops. “A dog may have a very particular odor, but to characterize that odor as foul is in the eye of the beholder.”

  “The nose of the beholder, you mean,” said Harriet.

  “Right.”

  “Dogs stink and I’m not coming near that mutt,” she insisted. “And that’s my final word. If you want to talk to the filthy creature, that’s up to you. But I’m going to look for a more palatable and civilized creature to talk to. Every mansion worth its salt must have a cat roaming around someplace, and I’m going to find it.”

  “You just don’t want to be near me. Admit it,” said Brutus with a pained expression.

  “I’m not admitting a thin
g until you admit your nose was so far up Darlene’s butt you could fondle her tonsils.”

  “I’m not admitting something that didn’t happen,” said Brutus.

  “Oh, you are going to confess, buster.”

  “This isn’t a Syrian torture chamber and you can’t make me confess a thing.”

  “Confess!” she screamed and flew across Dooley and my laps to tear into Brutus.

  It took Odelia a little time to part both cats, and when finally she managed, Brutus had a bloody scratch across his nose and there was a drop of blood on Harriet’s otherwise pristine white fur that hadn’t been there before.

  “And now behave, the both of you,” said Odelia in a voice I hadn’t heard her use before. She would have made a great taskmaster, I thought. Or owner of a kennel.

  “You scratched me!” Brutus cried, aghast. “You actually drew blood!”

  “Serves you right,” said Harriet from her corner.

  “My nose! It will never look the same again!”

  “Show it to Darlene. Maybe she’ll lick it for you.”

  “I’ll have a scar!”

  “I’m sure Darlene loves her men scarred.”

  “I don’t care about Darlene!”

  Dooley and I shared a look of concern. This cold war had just escalated into a full-blown hot war, and I wasn’t sure I liked it. Once the gloves came off, there was no telling whose face Harriet would dig her claws into next. Already she’d determined Dooley and I were collaborating with the enemy, so all bets were off. From now on, no one was safe.

  “So how are we going to sneak into the manor?” asked Chase.

  “I thought you might have a plan. You’re a cop, after all. Don’t you cops get trained to pick locks and stuff?”

  “We do, but since this was your idea I figured you had a plan all cooked up and ready to execute.”

 

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