by Nic Saint
“Before we were lovers we were friends. So we went straight back to being friends. I loved Shana a lot. I would never harm her. Or kill her.”
“Not even to save your marriage and your position in this family?”
But Dion wasn’t to be goaded. He merely smiled enigmatically. “Not a chance. I’m a man at peace with myself and my past. I made a mistake. I owned up to it. I’m a man reborn, Detective. This whole affair has made me realize that I love my wife, and that I want to start a family with her.”
Oh, great. Another family man.
“You don’t seem very upset about the death of your mistress,” said Chase.
“Oh, I am very upset. Don’t let my calm demeanor fool you. Inside I’m a total wreck, Detective. I loved Shana to bits, in spite of the fact that she dumped me. She was a wonderful person and I will miss her. We all will.”
Somehow the words didn’t ring true to Odelia. The man was entirely too slick, and the whole thing felt like an act. But then what else was new with the Kenspeckles? This whole dreadful murder felt like an act. It wouldn’t surprise her if Shana suddenly popped out of the closet and announced she wasn’t dead after all. So when suddenly the closet did pop open, she yelped, fully expecting to see Shana’s face. Instead, Max and Dooley came tumbling out, and along with them a black robe, a mask and a very large meat cleaver.
“The killer!” Max announced. “The killer is right behind us!”
Chapter 13
It’s not much fun being locked up, especially if you’re a cat. We don’t like it. It makes us feel trapped, and there’s no telling what we’ll do when we feel trapped. In our case what we did was stare at the door, hoping Brutus was kidding and would come back to save us. When a minute had passed and there was still no sign of the big brute, I figured he hadn’t been kidding. Of course, even if he did come back, there was no way he could open that door. Nature, in all its wisdom, hasn’t outfitted us cats with opposable thumbs. Imagine what we could do if it had. For one thing, we could open this door. And for another, I could make a fist and punch Brutus in the whiskers.
“I think we’re stuck,” Dooley said, showing his firm grip on reality.
“I think you’re right.”
We glanced over our shoulders at the massage area. Dion and Alejandro were still face down, chatting up a storm, kneaded by the capable hands of the massage therapists. It looked like they were going to be here a while.
“Maybe Harriet will come to the rescue?” Dooley asked, expressing a hope beyond hope that our friend would switch allegiances again.
“I doubt it. And even if she did, she can’t open this door by herself.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Cheer up, buddy. There has to be some way out of here.”
“Or we can just wait,” he said, languidly stretching out on the floor. “Sooner or later that door will open again. It’s inevitable.”
“And let Brutus share our hard-won secret with Odelia and take all the credit? No way.”
This is not something I'm particularly proud of, but I admit I have a competitive spirit. I like to win, especially when competing against a bully like Brutus. Nobody is going to come into my town and my house and try and steal my human's affection in this treacherous way. No way. No how.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s find the back door to this dump.”
“Oh, what’s the point?” asked Dooley, closing his eyes. “Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling us we should take a nap.”
I gave him a poke. It was my way of telling him to get a move on. “Get up, Dooley. We’re getting out of here and we’re getting out of here now.”
He grumbled a little, but eventually managed to defy gravity and get up. “Do we always have to be the heroes? Can’t we just be cats for a change?”
“No, we can’t. Being a hero is the American way. Now let’s go.”
We wandered deeper into the spa center and passed several sauna cabins, just waiting for some crazy human to allow himself to be boiled alive. How they can stand that kind of torture I will never understand. Bodies aren’t made to suffer those temperatures. The worst part? Humans like being boiled. It makes me think they’re probably a lot less evolved than they claim.
We arrived at an indoor pool. It looked pretty cool. When I stuck my paw into the water I discovered that it was. Definitely too cool for me. Brrr.
“This water is freezing!” Dooley cried.
“Humans like it,” I said. “I’ve seen it on TV. First they broil themselves in those torture cabins over there. Then they jump into this icy water. It’s supposed to be good for their health. Sounds like fake science to me.”
“I can’t imagine how torturing yourself can be healthy.”
“Humans think hamster wheels are healthy, buddy, though they call it treadmills.”
We walked the length of the pool and arrived at the Jacuzzi. The water was gently bubbling, steam rising from the surface. This was yet another thing I didn’t understand. How humans could spend hours soaking in hot water. And then they were surprised when their skin got all wrinkly.
We passed the resting area, which was located in an alcove, a skylight allowing sunlight to slant in and warm up the spa visitors. Loungers were spread out around a small fountain on the floor, and soft music played from the speakers. This was where humans, after all that torture, passed out.
“Hey, this looks like a great place for a nap,” Dooley said, and jumped up onto one of the loungers.
“No way,” I said. “We need to get out of here so we can tell Odelia about our discovery.”
Next to the resting area was a small bar, where the guests could grab a drink. I trotted behind the counter, hoping to find the back door. What I found was a small storage room. Boxes were stashed up high, and when I looked around, I saw that the room doubled as the electrical room. I dashed inside. The electric switchboard was here, as well as a lot of pipes crossing this space. One set of pipes led up, and disappeared into the ceiling.
“Hey, Dooley,” I called out. “I think I might have found a way out.”
Dooley came trotting up reluctantly. “What?”
“Look,” I said, gesturing at the concrete ceiling.
He looked up and yawned. “Nice pipes. So what?”
“So this is our way out,” I said enthusiastically.
He stared at me, and then back to the pipes. "I think you're delusional, Max. How is this our way out? We can't squeeze into those pipes."
“No, but we can climb them. See how there’s a hole in the concrete up there? I’m sure we can squeeze through.”
“Squeeze through? And then what?”
“Then we’ll be one floor up, and I’m sure there’s a way out up there.”
“And I’m sure we’ll just get stuck up there.”
“Where’s your spirit of adventure?”
“Trying to keep me alive. I’m not suicidal, Max.”
“Neither am I.” I fixed him with a firm look. “Look, Dooley. While we’re dragging our feet, Brutus is sweet-talking Odelia into appointing him her new first feline detective, supplanting us in the process.”
“Planting what?”
“I mean, taking our place in her heart, her home, and her life.”
Dooley thought about this for a moment. “I don’t think I like that, Max.”
“Me neither. So are you going to give this a try or not?”
He stared up again, and sighed. “I suppose so.”
Lucky for us, the pipes weren’t those plastic slippery ones. Even with claws it’s hard to get a grip on that kind of surface. I usually simply dig my claws in deep, but we had no way of knowing what was running through these pipes. If it was gas or water we might be royally screwed. Fortunately the pipes were covered with some kind of Styrofoam and were easy to scale.
I went first, clawing my way up, leaving a trail of styrofoam particles raining down. It was a lot easier than I thought, and soon I reached the ceiling and squ
eezed myself through a hole in the concrete. Now I was on the first floor. I was right: the pipes extended up, to the second floor and beyond.
“This is some real Indiana Jones shit, buddy!” I cried enthusiastically.
“Or one of those suicide missions,” he lamented. “Like Star Wars Rogue One. The heroes save the universe and as a reward they get to die at the end.”
“Oh, Dooley,” I muttered. I think if Indiana Jones had had a sidekick like Dooley, he might never have gotten his hands on that Ark of the Covenant.
“We’re going to get stuck up here. We’re going to get stuck and we’re going to die. Archeologists are going to find our mummified corpses a thousand years from now, wondering what the hell we were thinking!”
“We were thinking about our obligation toward Odelia. And for your information, we’re not going to get stuck.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I can already see the light at the end of the tunnel.”
“Don’t go into the light, Max!”
“Why not?”
“Because it means you’re dead.”
“I’m not dead. I can see light coming from somewhere ahead of me.”
“That’s what they all say, and then they’re dead.”
“Look, we’ve got nine lives, right? So have a little faith, buddy.”
“That whole nine lives thing is just an old wives’ tale, Max. I hate to break it to you but when we die, that’s it. We’re not coming back for round two.”
“Can you just… shut up already? You’re not helping.”
“I’m the voice of reason.”
“More like the voice of doom.”
We were in some kind of crawl space between the floors. It was pretty dusty and stuffy in here, but I didn’t mind. I did see light, and I decided to follow it, whatever Dooley said. It led to a small rectangular opening covered with a plastic screen. I gave the screen a nudge and it dropped down into the space beyond. I squeezed my way through and found myself in another dark space, a vertical strip of light directly in front of me. This was the light I’d seen. Not that I needed it. My eyesight is pretty good, thank you very much.
Dooley squeezed in right behind me, and bumped into my butt.
“Where are we?” he whispered.
“Why are you whispering?” I whispered back.
“Because I don’t want to wake up the monster.”
“What monster?”
“The monster in the closet.”
Dooley was right. We were in a closet. Above us, shirts and blazers were hanging from clothes hangers, and on the floor, where we were, a suitcase was placed. So that narrow strip of light in front of us was… the closet door!
“We made it, Dooley!” I cried.
“Made it where?”
“Someone’s closet, just like you said!”
“I didn’t say anything about a closet.”
Outside the closet door, I could hear voices, and I immediately recognized one of them. “Do you hear that?”
Dooley frowned. “Hey, that sounds like Odelia.”
“That’s because it is Odelia, and we’re in a closet in someone’s room.”
I glanced around, trying to figure out whose closet this was. And that’s when I saw it. Right behind Dooley. Chills ran up my feline spine.
“D-D-Dooley. Don’t turn around, but the killer is right behind you!”
“What?!” Dooley cried, whirling around. He yelped in fear when he caught sight of the black-robed figure lurking behind him, a huge meat cleaver in his hands!
“It’s the killer!” I cried. “We found the killer!”
“I was right!” Dooley whimpered. “We’re going to die!”
We tumbled out of the closet, trying to get away as fast as we could. The killer jumped out right behind us, and the meat cleaver clattered to the floor.
I saw Odelia and screamed, “The killer! The killer is right behind us!”
I jumped into her arms, and so did Dooley, and that’s when I saw it wasn’t the killer who’d been inside that closet with us, but only his robe.
Odelia looked surprised, and so did Chase, who was also there. The one who was even more surprised, though, was Dion Dread. And as he stared at us, and at the black robe and the meat cleaver, he cried, “That’s not mine!”
Yeah, right. That’s what they all say.
Embarrassed, I jumped down from Odelia’s arms. Indiana Jones would never jump into anyone’s arms. Indiana Jones would face the danger head-on. And now that I’d discovered we’d been spooked by a robe, I was ready to do just that.
“Wait, what is Dion doing here?” asked Dooley. “Isn’t he supposed to be down in the spa getting a massage?”
“I guess his massage ended.”
“See, Max?” asked Dooley. “We should have just waited it out.”
“If we hadn’t climbed that pipe we wouldn’t have found the killer!”
“It isn’t a killer. It’s just an old robe and a cleaver.”
“Duh. That’s the murder weapon, Dooley, and the killer’s bloody robe.”
Dooley yelped, only now understanding we’d caught the killer, and he was here in the room with us. We both stared at Dion, the brutal murderer.
Just then, Brutus came barging through the door, a little winded, and cried, “Odelia! Dion Dread is planning his own reality show!” He caught sight of us, and his eyes went wide. “Oh, shoot.”
Chase took one look at the cleaver and the black robe, still crusted with blood, and his jaw clenched. He stepped up to Dion Dread, flicked a pair of handcuffs from his belt, and announced, “Dion Dread. You’re under arrest for the murder of Shana Kenspeckle.”
“But I didn’t do it! That stuff ain’t mine! Someone planted it there!”
“You have the right to remain silent,” Chase grunted, and marched Dion out of the room.
“Hey! I can’t go out there in just my towel!”
“Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law.”
Harriet now came traipsing into the room. "What's with all the screaming?"
“We found the killer,” I announced proudly.
“You certainly did,” said Odelia, crouching down and giving me a rub.
Harriet frowned at her boyfriend. “Brutus? I’ve been looking all over for you. Where were you?”
He tried to look as innocently as he could. “Oh, just hanging out.”
“He locked us up in the basement!” Dooley cried accusingly.
“Yeah, and he tried to give our scoop to Odelia,” I added.
“Oh, Brutus,” Harriet said, shaking her head. “I told you, this is not the way to win friends and influence people. This is the way to make enemies.”
“They started first!” he said. “They’re trying to cut me out.”
"Nobody is trying to cut you out of anything, Brutus," said Odelia. She gave Dooley and me a stern look. "Look, it's really great that you guys managed to find the murder weapon and the murderer's robe, but you have to learn to get along with Brutus. I think it's high time you all became friends."
We stared at Brutus, and he stared back at us, defiant.
“I want you to shake paws and apologize,” Odelia told me.
“Me? Apologize to him? What for?”
“Come on, Max. You know you haven’t been very nice to Brutus.”
“Me? Not nice to him? He’s not being nice to me!”
“Look, I don’t want to hear any more. You’ll apologize and be friends from now on. And you, Brutus, I want to hear an apology from you as well. Max has told me about your behavior, and it’s unacceptable. Is that clear?”
Now that was more like it. Brutus looked like he was about to refuse, but Harriet placed her paw on his back and he finally relented, hanging his head. “Oh, all right. I’m sorry, Max, for the way I’ve behaved. It was wrong of me.”
“And I’m sorry for the way I’ve behaved,” I said when Odelia cut her eyes to me and gave me a warning look. “I s
hould have been much nicer to you.”
We reluctantly walked up to each other and slapped our paws together.
“Now tell him you’ll be friends, Max,” said Odelia.
“Friends?” I asked.
Brutus nodded. “Friends.”
Just then, Chase stuck his head through the door. “We have to lock up this room. This is now a crime scene.” He stared down at the gathering of cats, and shook his head. “Your cats caught the killer, Poole. Amazing.”
She smiled. “Yeah, that is pretty amazing. And your cat helped, too.”
Chase quirked an eyebrow at Brutus. “So he did. Good work, buddy.”
He walked out, Odelia in his wake, and Brutus, Dooley, Harriet and me right behind her. He then locked the door and pocketed the key.
“I’m so glad we’re all friends now,” Harriet said. “This is so nice.”
I caught Brutus’s eye, and the look he gave me was far from friendly. His next words confirmed this. “This isn’t over, Max. You’re going down.”
“Not if you’re going down first,” I replied, a little lamely.
“Friends, you guys!” Harriet said. “We’re all friends now!”
Brutus shrugged and displayed a nasty grin. “We’ll see about that.”
Chapter 14
“So? Cracked the case, huh, Chase?” asked Uncle Alec. He took another sizable helping of spaghetti, and ladled some more tomato sauce on top.
It was Thursday night at the Pooles, and as usual Alec had put his feet under the dinner table, along with his temporary roomie Chase. There was spaghetti bolognese on the menu, so Odelia got to relive the famous spaghetti scene from Lady and the Tramp after all, though she and Chase didn’t slurp from the same plate. But then she wasn’t a lady, and Chase wasn’t a tramp.
She twirled the pasta around the tines of her fork and thought about the case. She had her qualms about Dion as a killer. How convenient that the murder weapon would be lying around in his closet. Too convenient. Why hadn’t the uniformed officers found it when they searched his room?
“Yeah, that was quick work,” Chase said, pressing a napkin to his lips.
“Is it true that the cats actually solved the case?” asked Dad.
