by Nic Saint
“It sure is, cutie pie,” growled Brutus.
“Oh, God,” I murmured.
“Hey!” Brutus repeated, and he slapped me on the head.
“Hey!” I yelled back. “No hitting the talent!”
“Who are you calling talent?” he said with a smirk.
“Oh, God,” a tired voice came from behind Brutus.
He whirled around, ready to admonish her. But when he saw he wasn’t talking to one of his choir flunkies, he snarled, “Look who’s up!” instead.
“What was that racket?” she groaned.
“Sorry,” said Harriet.
“That’s okay. Just don’t do it again.”
“No, that’s the name of the song.”
"You could have fooled me," Odelia said, rubbing her eyes. "It sounded like a dozen cats being strangled, their heads chopped off with a lightsaber."
I know I should have felt offended, but I was so glad she was finally up I decided to forgive her. Not everyone appreciates great music the way us cats do, and the most important thing was that we’d finally achieved our purpose.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” I said. “Time to go to work.”
“Ugh,” was Odelia’s response. “Just promise never to sing to me again.”
“I promise,” I said, crossing my claws. Until next time.
Chapter 2
I was glad we’d accomplished our mission, even though the awakening hadn’t been as gentle and pleasant as I’d hoped. Odelia obviously wasn’t a fan of cat choir, or Justin Bieber, or either. We probably needed to practice more. Then again, with Brutus at the helm we might never get to be as good as the Wiener Sängerknaben, my inspiration to start cat choir in the first place. Especially if Brutus kept hogging the spotlight to impress Harriet. It didn’t impress the other choir members. And it didn’t impress me.
We trudged down the stairs and padded into the kitchen, waiting for Odelia to join us, fresh from the shower and ready to start preparing breakfast. We didn’t have to wait long. She breezed in, wearing ultra-short Daisy Dukes, pockets showing on the bottom, a canary yellow T-shirt that announced she was ‘Crazy Cat Lady’ and pink Converse sneakers. She started up the coffeemaker and switched on the TV to watch the news.
“Ugh. The Kenspeckles are still in town,” she said as she dumped Corn Flakes into a bowl and poured milk on top of it and a few spoonfuls of sugar. “I keep hoping they’ll leave, but that obviously isn’t happening.”
“Who are the Kenspeckles?” asked Dooley.
We’d all hopped up on the kitchen counter barstools and were watching Odelia’s breakfast preparations intently. As soon as she’d finished preparing her own breakfast, we knew she’d start on ours.
“Just some family whose lives have been turned into a reality show,” she said. “The only reason I’m interested is because they decided to spend the summer in Hampton Cove and Dan keeps pushing me to do a piece on them. I’d rather poke my eye out with a fork than to come anywhere near them.”
“Why Hampton Cove?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Cause it’s the Hamptons. Cause it’s the place where all the cool people hang out. Cause after shooting a gazillion shows in LA they like to shake things up. I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m not a fan.”
That much was obvious. “You don’t like the Kenspeckles?” asked Harriet.
“Nope. Too much talk. I like a show with a little action and a great story.”
“Like Game of Thrones,” said Brutus, nodding.
“Yuck. A show where people’s heads get chopped off? No way.”
“I know what you like,” said Brutus. “You like to watch the game.”
She stared at him. “Game? What game?”
“Football, of course! At Casa Chase we watch it all the time.”
“At Casa Odelia we watch The Voice,” I said.
Brutus made a face. “The Voice? Are you crazy?”
“It’s all about singing, Brutus. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“I like singing,” he said with a quick glance at Harriet. “In fact, I love it. But The Voice? I thought you said you liked action and a great story, Odelia?”
“It doesn’t get any better than Blake and Adam,” she said, taking a seat and scooping up her flakes. “Add in some great songs and I’m hooked.”
Brutus shook his head. It was obvious he didn’t agree. “To each his own.”
The sliding glass door in the living room opened and Odelia’s mom walked in. “Good morning, family. And what a glorious morning it is.”
A slim woman with long blond hair just like her daughter, Marge Poole was wearing hers in a messy bun this morning. Her white polka-dot shirt was belted with a thin leather sash and she was donning skinny black slacks. She gazed at us through horn-rimmed glasses and gave us a smile and a wave.
“Hey, Mom,” said Odelia. “Aren’t you the sight for sore eyes?”
“Oh, just my work clothes,” said Mom with a deferential gesture.
Marge Poole was a librarian and ran the Hampton Cove library.
“I’d certainly borrow a book from you, Mrs. P,” said Dooley.
“Dooley!” Harriet hissed.
“What? I would,” said Dooley.
“She’s a human and you’re a feline. That’s just wrong.”
He frowned. “Why can’t I borrow a book from her? I know my ABCs.”
“Oh, you mean an actual book?”
“Of course. Why else would I go to the library?”
“I just thought…” She rolled her eyes. “Never mind.”
“We were just talking about Chase,” said Brutus.
“No, we weren’t,” said Odelia. “We were talking about the Kenspeckles.”
“Chase is such a nice young man,” Marge said. “And such a blessing for this town. Your uncle Alec keeps telling me he’s so glad Chase decided to stay put instead of going back to New York to shoot with the big boys.”
“Run with the big boys,” Odelia corrected automatically.
“That’s what I said. He could have had any job he wanted with the NYPD but he chose to stay in Hampton Cove. Isn’t that just wonderful?”
“Super,” Odelia murmured. “They should give him the keys to the city.”
“I’m sure glad he stayed,” said Harriet, practicing her best starry-eyed look on Brutus. “I don’t know what I would do without my Brutus.”
“Me neither, honey bunch,” said Brutus.
Mom stood watching the syrupy scene with cocked head. “Aw, isn’t that sweet? Young love.”
“It’s the best,” muttered Odelia, not impressed.
“Shouldn’t you be home with Chase right now?” I asked Brutus.
“Yeah, he’ll wonder where you are,” said Dooley.
“I’m sure he doesn’t mind me spending the night with my girlfriend.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t,” said Marge. “Chase strikes me as a man who appreciates love and affection. For a police officer he’s very much in touch with his feelings.” She gave Odelia a meaningful look.
Odelia threw up her hands. “Don’t hold anything back, Mom.”
“Well, I won’t. Detective Kingsley is a wonderful young man, extremely handsome and very sweet and you could do a lot worse than him. And he’s single, which I’m sure he won’t be for long so you better move fast.”
“I told you already. I’m not interested in Chase Kingsley.”
“Someone else might snap him up. Alec tells me Blanche Captor comes into the office every day to file littering charges. She’s in there at the crack of dawn, demanding Chase take her statement. And she just had that boob job.”
“I’m sure it takes more than a pair of boobs to turn Chase’s head, Mom.”
“I’m not so sure. Chase might be a great guy but he’s still a guy. And you know what that means.” She directed a pointed glance at Odelia’s more modest chest. “The women in our family have to rely on other assets, honey.”
“Oh, f
or crying out loud, Mom,” Odelia groaned.
To be honest, I’ve never understood this obsession with boobs. I mean, I’m a guy and I don’t care one hoot about them. Then again, I’m not human, so maybe that’s why. Truth of the matter is that Odelia has dated a few lemons in the past, so she’s understandably cautious and I don’t blame her.
“I think Chase is dreamy,” said Harriet, contradicting her earlier statement that interspecies relationships are just plain wrong.
“And I think he’s a great cop, but that doesn’t mean he’s relationship material,” I said, deciding to put my two cents in. It seemed Odelia’s dating life was a free-for-all now, so why not share my opinion with the group?
Mom laughed. “Oh, Max. Since when did you become an expert?”
I shrugged. “Just looking out for my human. Someone has to.”
I like Marge, I really do, but I don’t like how she tries to foist this cop on Odelia. To be honest, my motives weren’t totally selfless. If Odelia hooked up with Chase, it wouldn’t be long before he moved in and so would Brutus. If there was a way to prevent this doomsday scenario, I was all for it.
Marge patted me on the head. “You’re doing a great job, Max.”
“Thanks,” I said dubiously. Compliments are a double-edged sword. You have to be careful or they blow up in your face. If it’s swords that blow up in your face. It might be plans. I don’t know. Hey, I’m a cat, not a dictionary.
“I think Odelia and Chase should hook up,” said Harriet. “Just like Brutus and I have found each other. That way we’ll all be family forever.”
“I think you should listen to you cats, honey,” said Mom. “They’re a sacred and ancient species known far and wide for their infinite wisdom.”
“I think Chase should return to wherever he came from,” said Dooley, giving Brutus a particularly dirty look.
Odelia held up her hand. “All right, Mom. I’ll listen to my wise cats.”
“Dooley is confused, that’s all. He is your grandmother’s cat, after all. Some of her traits are bound to rub off on him and dilute his innate wisdom.”
“I thought Gran wanted me to get together with Chase?”
"Gran wants to get together with Chase herself," said Marge with a tight-lipped smile. "Which is hardly appropriate for her age."
Odelia put her bowl in the sink. “You know what I think? This family is starting to resemble the Kenspeckles. If we’re not careful we’ll have our own reality show soon.”
“Ooh, I’d like that,” said Harriet. “I would love to be on TV.”
“Oh dear God, no,” said Marge. “Just imagine all those cameras filming everything we do. We wouldn’t have a life anymore—no privacy at all!”
“It’s all scripted,” Odelia said. “Nothing about that show is real, Mom.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. Nobody behaves like that. It’s completely fake.”
“I think it’s all real,” said Harriet. “Especially the relationships. Nobody can fake all that love and affection. You can see it in their eyes.”
Dooley and I rolled our own eyes. Odelia was right. Maybe Keeping Up with the Pooles would be the next big thing. Though Keeping Up with Harriet and Brutus would be an even bigger hit. Nobody could fake that much ignorance.
Chapter 3
The doorbell rang and Odelia was surprised to find Chase on the doorstep. She wanted to tell him they were just talking about him but thought better of it. Nothing boosts a man's ego as much as knowing a gaggle of women is talking behind his back, though she probably shouldn't include Harriet in this particular gaggle, as she wasn't an actual woman.
Chase Kingsley was tall, dark-haired and movie-star handsome and took his job very, very seriously. And whatever he was doing here probably had something to do with that job, because in all the time she’d known him he’d never once paid her a social visit unless she’d specifically invited him.
“What’s up?” she asked, suddenly feeling a little underdressed. Those Daisy Dukes had seemed like a great idea half an hour ago, but now that Chase’s eyes slowly traveled south and his eyebrows rose north, she was having second thoughts. Then again, there was nothing wrong with making a great impression, even if she wasn’t interested in dating the guy.
“Morning, Miss Poole.”
“Morning, Detective Kingsley. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“There’s been a murder.”
“What? Who?” she asked, her smile evaporating.
“Shana Kenspeckle. They just found her.”
Holy cow. “Give me a minute,” she said.
He followed her inside, and nodded a greeting at her mother but ignored the cats seated at the kitchen counter. Unlike Odelia, Mom and Gran, Chase wasn’t one of those rare humans who could communicate with felines. This special gift had traveled down from generation to generation because one of Odelia’s ancestors had purportedly been a witch. It was a gift that came in handy in her line of work. As a reporter for the Hampton Cove Gazette she needed to be on top of everything that happened in her small Long Island town. And since she couldn’t be everywhere all the time, Max and his friends acted as her eyes and ears, supplying her with a steady stream of news.
She drained her coffee cup and went in search of her smartphone.
“So what brings you down here, Chase?” asked Mom.
“Police business, I’m afraid, Mrs. Poole.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake. When are you going to start calling me Marge?”
“There’s been a murder, Marge.”
Mom’s hands flew to her face. “Oh, no!”
“Yeah. One of the Kenspeckle sisters was found murdered.”
“But that’s horrible!”
“I’m just going over there to investigate.”
“And you’re taking Odelia along? That’s so nice of you, Chase.”
He grimaced. “Chief Alec engaged your daughter as an official consultant to the department, ma’am, I mean Marge. He’s made a point of including her in the day-to-day police business. And since he’s out of town this week he’s asked me to partner up with his niece for this particular investigation.”
Judging from his tone he wasn’t happy about Uncle Alec’s decision.
“Oh, but that’s wonderful,” said Mom, clasping her fingers together as if in prayer. “The two of you together, cracking a case. That’s so exciting!”
Odelia didn’t know if it was exciting or not, but she thanked her lucky stars her uncle had made this arrangement. This way she could be where the action was, and didn’t have to snoop around. Ever since he’d arrived in town, Chase had been reluctant to share information with her, considering her just another nosy reporter. Uncle Alec had quickly made it clear they did things differently down here in Hampton Cove, and since she was a great reporter he considered her an asset, not a hindrance. Chase had reluctantly complied.
“Let’s go,” he said a little gruffly.
“Let’s go, you guys,” she repeated to her cats.
He frowned. “You’re not thinking about dragging your cats along?”
“Of course. They…” She searched for a good excuse. She couldn’t tell him she wanted them to investigate. Talk to other cats. Figure out clues.
“They need the fresh air,” Mom supplied helpfully.
“Then send them into the backyard,” said Chase. “Plenty of air there.”
“Sea air, Chase,” Mom clarified. “It’s good for their… complexion.”
Chase had caught sight of his own cat and picked him up. “What do you think you’re doing here, buddy? No wonder I couldn’t find you this morning.”
“Brutus and Harriet are an item now,” Mom said with the sweetest of smiles. “You don’t want to get in the way of true love, do you, Chase?”
Chase seemed on the verge of saying something scathing, but controlled himself. “Let’s just get going. I’d like to arrive before the coroner shows up.”
Five minutes lat
er, they were riding in Chase’s squad car, which was a souped-up beat-up old pickup truck, four cats in the back and Chase looking a little glum. He clearly wasn’t happy about this new arrangement, and he wasn’t happy about having to drag four cats along for the ride either.
“So what happened?” she asked.
“When Damien LeWood woke up this morning he found his wife next to him. Only she was missing her head.”
“That’s not good.”
He nodded grimly. “It was found on the dining room table, an apple in her mouth and a note pasted to her forehead. The note was signed Al Kida.”
“Al-Qaeda?”
“Not exactly.”
He quickly showed her a picture on his smartphone. The uniforms who’d arrived on the scene must have taken it. The note was signed by Al Kida.
“That’s weird.”
“You said it.”
“Poor Shana.” She might not have been a fan of the show, but nobody deserved to die such a gruesome death.
He slid her a sideways glance. “So are you up for this?”
“Up for what?”
“Chief Alec wants us to handle this investigation together. I’m running point, as I’m the cop in this particular constellation, and you’re…” His lips tightened, as if he had trouble uttering the words. “… the consultant.”
“You mean like Richard Castle?”
“Who?”
“Rick Castle? From the TV show?”
He grimaced. “Something like that.”
“So in this ‘constellation’ I’m Castle and you’re Kate Beckett, right?”
He glanced over and she thought she detected a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Does that mean you’ll get me one of those fancy espresso machines?”
She laughed. “Whatever floats your boat, Detective Kingsley.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Whatever?”
A tingle languidly fluttered up her spine. Was he flirting now? No way. Chase Kingsley didn’t flirt. “Within the boundaries of propriety, of course.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Miss Poole.”
Oh, boy. This was going to be interesting.
