by Nic Saint
“In your dreams,” growled Chase, and waltzed out again.
“Was it something I said?” yelled Gran, leaning over the counter to stare at Chase’s retreating behind.
“Not now, Gran,” she called out, leaving the lady looking disappointed.
They both got back to the car, and Odelia saw that this time Chase was behind the wheel. When she glared at him, he said, “Hey, you got to drive the last time. Now it’s my turn. Besides, I don’t want anyone else to get killed.”
“I’ll have you know I’m a great driver,” she grumbled, getting into the passenger seat. She thought for a moment. Where would Rohanna take that laptop? She’d thought she’d hidden it in that cesspit, until a nosy writer had dug it out and uncovered a crime. Now she would have to put it where no one would ever look. And then suddenly she got it. “The graveyard,” she said.
He lifted an eyebrow. “The graveyard? Are you sure?”
“Trust me. Now just go!”
And go he did, at a surprising rate of speed. Following her instructions, it didn’t take him long to arrive at the small graveyard, and they both jumped out of the car, which Chase had parallel parked to perfection in front of the iron gates. The man had skills. If he didn’t make it as a detective in this town, he could always become a valet.
His strong arm held her back before she could rush into the graveyard.
“Let me go first,” he said, and took out his gun again.
She nodded her agreement. Never argue with a man with a gun.
“What are we looking for, exactly?” he asked.
“This is where Luke Coral was buried. I have a hunch it’s where Rohanna is going to bury that laptop.”
Chase gave her a curt nod of the head. “Stay behind me. This woman has killed once, she might do it again when cornered.”
“I doubt she has a gun, Detective.”
He gave her a grim look. “Better safe than sorry. You might be a pesky reporter and a cat lady, but that doesn’t mean I want to see you killed. And definitely not on my watch.”
“I think that’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“You’re welcome. Now let’s go!”
They moved stealthily through the wrought-iron gates and entered the graveyard, which consisted of gravestones dotting a smooth stretch of gently sloping lawn. Some of them were crooked and weathered with age, others looked newer. She hadn’t been here in a while, the last time when she’d accompanied her gran to put flowers on her granddad’s grave. When she heard plaintive mewls behind her, she saw that Max and Dooley had followed them into the graveyard. They didn’t look happy. This was not their favorite hangout, she suspected, and they’d rather be home right now. So would she.
Chase gave her a quick glance, and she gestured with her hand. She knew exactly where Rohanna’s boy was buried, as she’d attended his funeral. In fact most of Hampton Cove had. Luke had been a sweet kid and well-liked, and if not for those few bullies who’d made his life miserable, he might still be alive today. It was a tragedy, but that still didn’t give Rohanna the right to kill the man she held responsible. They approached the plot where Luke was buried, or Lucia, as he’d apparently been wanted to be known, and they had a clear view of his gravestone, but of Rohanna there was no trace.
“It’s right there,” she whispered, pointing at the grave.
She stared down at the stone, and then saw that the earth had been disturbed behind it, as if someone had been digging. She knelt down, and after a moment’s hesitation dug her hands in. Suddenly her fingers touched a solid object, and when she came away, she was holding the laptop.
She held it out to Chase, who grunted, “Good job.”
Wow. Another compliment? This was practically a love fest.
But then suddenly she saw Rohanna looming up behind the cop, a heavy rock in her hand. And as she held up the rock, heaving it over Chase’s head, she screamed, “Chase! Watch out!” But it was too late, and Rohanna would have knocked out Chase if not suddenly Max and Dooley had launched themselves at the woman, scratching her across the face and hands with mighty hissing sounds, their claws extended.
Rohanna yelled in pain and dropped the rock, reaching for her face.
Instantly, Chase whirled around, and easily worked his attacker to the ground, then slapped a pair of handcuffs on the woman.
“Thanks,” Odelia mouthed to Max and Dooley, who appeared extremely proud of themselves and their work in apprehending the Paulo Frey killer.
“How?” Rohanna asked when Chase hoisted her up. “How did you know it was me?”
Odelia held up the laptop. “Frey was the one who outed your boy, wasn’t he? He was the one who ran the Society of No.”
Rohanna nodded forlornly. “He was. He killed Luke. He might as well have handed him that rope and tied the noose around his neck. Him and that damn society.” She shook her head, tears now streaming down her face. “I had no idea Frey was behind it until I accidentally touched his laptop when I was cleaning his desk and the screensaver dissolved and revealed the website of the Society of No. I knew they were behind Luke’s outing.”
“How did you know he was running it?” asked Chase.
“Usually when I cleaned the cabin, Frey took a walk in the woods. So when I saw the website I couldn’t resist digging a little deeper. And that’s when I saw the messages he’d posted as TransKiller. He was the site’s moderator! He’d used the same alias to post those hateful messages on Luke’s school’s page, so I recognized it immediately. I got so angry when I realized he was the one who’d killed my boy! He was the one who’d caused all this.”
She hung her head, and Odelia said, “I’m so sorry, Rohanna. But why didn’t you simply talk to my uncle? He would have arrested Frey.”
“You know as well as I do that guys like Frey are never punished,” said Rohanna bitterly. “He’s one of the happy few that can get away with murder. He would have hired the best lawyers money could buy and would have gotten off scot-free.” She shook her head. “When he walked in, that smug smile on his face, I knew I was in the presence of pure evil. So when he took a seat at his desk, I grabbed the first thing I could find and hit him as hard as I could. For my boy. So Luke’s death wouldn’t go unpunished.”
Odelia stared at the woman, tears in her own eyes now. Two lives were destroyed, for Rohanna would probably go to jail for a long stretch. Unless a jury would consider these extenuating circumstances. She glanced down at the gravestone of the kind-hearted young boy who just wanted to live a happy life, if not for people like Paulo Frey, whose hate had destroyed him.
“You did it, Odelia,” said Max.
“Yeah, you did it,” Dooley chimed in.
“No, you did it,” she whispered, making sure that Chase didn’t overhear her. Even though the burly copper might be warming to her—and she to him, she had to admit—she didn’t want her secret to get out. Uncle Alec might understand, but she was pretty sure that Chase Kingsley never would.
“Good job, Miss Poole,” Chase grunted after he’d Mirandized Rohanna.
“Thanks,” she said simply. “You too, Detective Kingsley.”
He gave her one of his rare grins. “I think we’re past that, don’t you?” He held out his hand. “Chase.”
“Odelia,” she said, and shook his hand, also smiling now.
“Oh, God,” Max groaned behind her. “Looks like Brutus is here to stay.”
Epilogue
One week after the events that had rocked Hampton Cove, Dooley and I were lazing around in the garden, under the shade of the old gnarly tree near the back, when I suddenly saw Brutus and Harriet crossing over to us.
“Don’t look now, Dooley,” I muttered, “but here come the brute and his bride.”
“What? Where?!” Dooley cried, and instantly started scanning the lawn.
We both stared at the couple as they drew nearer, and Dooley seemed on the verge of launching into a long tirade to make sure that the garden, at leas
t, remained Brutus-free. But how could we keep anything Brutus-free these days? The cat was simply ubiquitous, as was the cop who owned him.
After Chase and Odelia had solved the Paulo Frey murder, the police detective had received a lot of accolades from the Hampton Cove brass. Not that we have a lot of brass around here. Just the mayor and the members of the town council. It appeared that some residents had indeed launched a petition to remove Chase from active duty, and the council was still considering it. But after his remarkable work catching the Frey killer, he’d earned himself a temporary reprieve, and had gained the admiration of a lot of Hampton Covians, chief amongst whom were people like Aissa Spring and Gabby Cleret who, it was rumored, had just signed up for Indiana Jones 2.
Whether Odelia was for or against Chase Kingsley wasn’t very clear to me. She hadn’t told us to stop trying to clear the man’s name, so that seemed to indicate she believed in his innocence and wanted him to stay. On the other hand, she’d listened very carefully when we’d told her that Brutus wasn’t our most favorite person in the world, and that we wanted him gone.
In other words, these were confusing times, and so for now we did nothing, at least until Odelia made up her mind and decided one way or the other. I, for one, wasn’t going to make an effort to keep the cop in town, especially as he came with so much baggage. And this baggage was now bearing down on us, his new girlfriend—our former friend Harriet—in tow.
“Hey, there, guys,” Harriet said by way of greeting.
But since Harriet was still dead to us, and so was Brutus, Dooley and I simply pretended not to hear her. We’d discovered that Brutus hated the silent treatment, and so did Harriet. Bullies can’t stand being ignored.
Talking about bullies, Odelia had written the definitive article on Paulo Frey, which had been picked up by the national media. The big papers had all done stories on Frey, and the upcoming trial that was going to decide Rohanna Coral’s fate. I had high hopes that she would be acquitted. After all, she’d only done what any of us would do when a monstrous predator drove our child to suicide: take revenge. Her actions could not be condoned, of course, but they could be understood, and I wasn’t alone in hoping she would get off with a light sentence or an acquittal. On this point Hampton Cove wasn’t divided at all: pretty much the entire town rallied behind her, and even chipped in to pay for a decent lawyer. In the eyes of many she was a heroine.
“She said, hey, you guys,” Brutus repeated, not sounding very friendly.
Dooley and I continued ignoring him, hoping he’d simply go away. But of course he didn’t. Some cats only need half a word to get your drift, but Brutus obviously wasn’t one of them.
“You guys, don’t be like this,” Harriet said. “Why can’t we simply be friends?” she added, harping on her new favorite theme. “Brutus is actually a very nice cat once you get to know him.” She emitted an involuntary giggle. “And I’ve gotten to know him very well this last week.”
Dooley appeared on the verge of saying something, but I gave him a kick, and he clamped his mouth shut.
“Look,” Brutus said, “I know that maybe I was a little heavy-handed when I first arrived, my human being a cop and all. What can I say? It’s a hard habit to break. But I see now that Hampton Cove has so much more to offer than your usual rabble that requires policing. You’ve got some great cats out here, and I admit that my methods, which might be appropriate for your crime-ridden big city, are not appropriate down here, where life is lived at a more leisurely pace.”
Harriet rubbed his back encouragingly, and he gave her a grateful nod.
“What I mean to say is this: I’m sorry if I came across a little too strong, and I promise that from now on I’ll try to see things your way.” He gestured at Harriet. “My girlfriend has shown me that policing a town is about more than swinging a big stick. It’s about befriending the locals. Earning their trust.” He held out a paw. “I’m here to tell you that I’m ready to be your friend.”
“If they’ll have you,” whispered Harriet.
He ground his teeth for a moment, then managed, “If you’ll have me.”
It was obvious they’d been rehearsing this shtick, and as I stared at the outstretched paw of my nemesis, I wondered how best to respond to this new nonsense. Walk away? Or deliver a blistering rebuttal? And as I was pondering this, Dooley, that moronic idiot, glanced at Harriet, grinned at her, and covered Brutus’s paw with his own.
“I’m so glad you said that! I just hate having to ignore my best friend.”
“Aw, Dooley,” said Harriet. “You’re my best friend, too.”
The next moment, Dooley was sniffing Harriet’s butt as if he hadn’t seen her in ages, Brutus and I looking on in horror. Brutus because he didn’t like other cats sniffing his girl’s butt, and I because I couldn’t believe Dooley had fallen for this nonsense.
“What about it, Max?” Brutus asked gruffly. “Forgive and forget?”
“I can’t forgive a cat that thinks he can bully me in my own home.”
“Fair enough. I wouldn’t either. I’m a changed cat now, though.”
“A changed cat? In one week?”
He glanced at Harriet. “Love has a way of changing a cat, you know.”
“Oh, please,” I grunted. “You can fool Dooley, but you can’t fool me.”
“Hey, I’m not kidding. This is true love, buddy.”
I very much doubted whether a cat like Brutus was even capable of love. Don’t you have to have a heart to be able to love?
At that moment, the doorbell rang, and moments later Chase walked out onto the terrace, accompanied by Odelia, and as they took a seat, I could see how things were going to be. This Chase guy wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. He was going to keep on coming, and judging from Odelia’s expression as they chatted, at some point in the future they just might become more than mere friends. I’d seen that look before, when she brought Sam the crooked banker home, and again when she had that crooked cop over. Odelia might be a great human, but she had lousy taste in men. Which meant I was going to be saddled with Brutus for the foreseeable future.
Three cats were looking at me anxiously. Dooley, looking goofy now that he was friends again with Harriet. Harriet, who seemed both tense and hopeful, for I was her friend too, until she’d hooked up with Brutus. And the bully himself, who seemed repentant, a look that didn’t become him.
Finally, I relented. “Oh, all right,” I said, slapping Brutus’s paw. “Forgive and forget.” But before the celebration started, I added, “But I’m not going to be bullied in my own home. This is still my home and Odelia is my human.”
“Fair enough,” said Brutus with a grin. Then he leaned in and whispered, “But I’m still the cop around here, buddy, just you remember that. So what I say goes.” He then gave me a fake smile, and I could see that all this nonsense about him being a changed cat had just been posturing for Harriet’s sake.
“Oh, you sly son of a…”
“Max!” cried Harriet.
“It’s all right, gummy bear. Max and I are buds now. Aren’t we, Maxie?”
My eyes darted from Dooley, giving Harriet’s butt another sniff, to Odelia, offering Chase a drink, to Brutus, eyeing me with a warning grin on his smug mug. Two could play this game, I thought, and plastered a smile on my face. “Of course we are. From now on we’re one big, happy family.”
“Oh, yay!” cried Harriet.
“Yay,” snarled Brutus.
“And so three become four,” Dooley said, beaming all over his face.
“The four musketeers!” Harriet yipped.
“Max can be our Porthos,” said Brutus, and gave me a playful punch on the shoulder that hurt a lot more than it looked. “Right, Maxie, baby?”
“Wasn’t he the fat one?” asked Dooley.
“Ha ha,” said Brutus.
“Ha ha ha,” said Harriet.
“Ha ha ha ha,” said Dooley.
Oh, God, I thought. This was hell.
&nb
sp; There was more playful ribbing and joking, and I wondered if I was the only one who could see Brutus for what he was: a nasty intruder. And I wondered if his human was anything like him. If he was, Odelia was in for an unpleasant surprise. I gave the paw I’d touched Brutus with a good lick to wash away the foul stench. Yeah, this wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.
THE END
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Excerpt from Purrfectly Deadly
Chapter One
Morning had arrived bright and early, and as usual I was having a hard time rousing my human. Odelia was still snoozing, even more reluctant than usual to throw off the blanket of sleep. She’d been stirring for the past hour, ever since her alarm clock had gone off and she’d unceremoniously silenced it with one well-aimed punch. In spite of all my nudging, meowing, and even scratching the closet door, she still showed no signs of getting out of bed.
She’d sat up half the night preparing for her interview today, but if she didn’t get up now she’d miss it entirely. And it wasn’t just any old interview either. For the first time in years, famous eighties pop singer John Paul George, aka JPG, had granted the Hampton Cove Gazette an exclusive.
John, whose star had shone so brightly back in the day, now lived as a recluse in his Hamptons mansion, only rarely venturing out. He was one of those pop deities and eighties icons whose name would go down in history along with Madonna, Michael Jackson, Prince and George Michael.
Originally he hailed from England, where they produce pop stars in a factory just outside London, but had settled in the Hamptons in the nineties, where he could enjoy sun and surf and an endless parade of boy toys.
