by Nic Saint
“Hey, who are you calling a wuss?” Brutus snarled, stepping to my defense.
“You! All of you! You’re just a bunch of pussies.”
Well, he was right about that, of course. We were pussies.
“You take that back!” Brutus yelled.
Diego displayed a wide grin and lifted his paw, displaying sharp claws. “And what if I don’t?”
“Don’t be like that, you guys,” said Dooley. “Diego is our friend. He can teach us stuff. Lots of interesting stuff.”
“Whatever Diego told you, you better forget, Dooley,” I said. “All of it.”
Diego apparently had had enough. He suddenly stepped up and hit me, hard, across the nose. “Ouch!” I cried as blood trickled down my snout.
“See?!” Diego cried. “Your friend is just a dumb scaredy-cat, Dooley. Can’t even defend himself!”
Dooley sat staring at me. “Max? Is he right? Are you a scaredy-cat?”
I would have told him I was a lover, not a fighter, but that just didn’t seem right under the circumstances. Instead, I glowered at Diego. Truth was, I’m not much of a brawler. I like to think I’m above physical violence. And then there was the fact that Diego looked a lot fitter and stronger than me, and I had the sneaking suspicion he was going to beat me in a fair fight.
“Don’t you go hitting my friend, you sneaky snake in the grass,” Brutus growled.
Diego had gone through quite the transformation. His tail was fluffed up and he was making low growling sounds at the back of his throat. His claws were out and his head was down, snarling and hissing at Brutus. Yep. He was ready to fight.
Brutus, seeing this, seemed taken aback. “Go on,” I said. “You can beat him!”
But Brutus didn’t seem entirely sure. “I don’t know, Max,” he said. “He looks really mean.”
And then suddenly, out of nowhere, Diego lashed out, slashing Brutus across the face with his claws. Brutus said, “Eek!” and jumped back just in time to avoid the razor-sharp claws of his opponent, then sat there, his tail between his legs.
Diego huffed out a booming laugh. “See, Dooley? Your friends are just a couple of pussies!” He draped a paw around Dooley’s shoulder. “You stick with me from now on, buddy. I’ll teach you everything I know.”
“Dooley!” I cried. “Don’t go with him!”
Dooley glanced back. He seemed confused and conflicted.
All of a sudden there was a loud CLUNK right next to us. I jerked my head up, and saw that a cat had landed on the dumpster. She was a feral cat, her fur all mangled and matted and missing in parts. She looked like she’d been in more fights than the members of Fight Club, and had a scar that ran through one of her eyes. She looked like a monster. I recognized her instantly.
“Clarice!” I cried.
“Oh, no, not Clarice,” Brutus said with a whimper, and Dooley, too, didn’t look happy to see her. He clasped a hand to his nose, which tended to get slashed every time we got involved with the wild cat.
“Who the hell are you?” Diego asked, giving her the evil eye.
“I am your worst nightmare,” she hissed, slowly moving along the top of the dumpster, her claws scratching the metal. “I am the one female that will never be seduced by your clever lines, your smooth tongue or your treacherous lies.”
“You’re not a female,” Diego said with a careless laugh. “I don’t know what you are, but you’re definitely not on my list. Just look at her, Dooley. Ha ha! Look at that mongrel, dude!”
But Dooley wasn’t laughing, and neither was the rest of us.
“Better hold your tongue, Diego,” she hissed, running a claw along the edge of the dumpster. “Or I just might cut it out!”
“What an idiot!” Diego laughed. “And ugly as the night, too!”
“Max, Brutus and Dooley are my friends,” Clarice declared, quite surprisingly. “You mess with my friends, you mess with me!”
“Well, come on then,” said Diego. “If you want to rumble, let’s rumble!”
Clarice displayed a sly smile. “Oh, you’re asking for it? Well, fine.”
And with these words, she jumped from the dumpster, right on top of Diego’s head. For the next few seconds, there was a blur of activity as the two cats fought. There was a lot of hissing, a lot of snarling, and even more vicious clawing going on. Fur was flying as claws were scratching and hitting their mark.
Then, as suddenly as it had all started, it was over. There was a loud squeak of pain, and a whirr of orange as Diego raced off, his tail between his legs, missing a good chunk of fur and leaving a trail of blood as he streaked off, caterwauling all the while.
Clarice, who seemed unharmed, sat casually licking the blood from her claws. “That should teach that misguided Romeo a lesson he’ll never forget.”
“Clarice, you’re my hero!” suddenly a voice rang out behind us.
We all looked around, and saw that we’d been joined by Harriet.
She sat looking at the spot of orange in the distance that was Diego.
“How long have you been sitting there?” I asked.
“Long enough to hear Diego’s mean-spirited and outright horrible advice,” she said softly. “And even long enough to see him with that other cat.” She gestured up. “I was actually on the roof. I’d followed him here when he went out. Said he was going to get a breath of fresh air.” She shook her head. “I knew he was up to no good. A player like him?”
Clarice stared at the spot of orange that grew smaller and smaller. “I don’t think he’ll be back, honey. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, I don’t,” she said. “In fact I should have been the one to teach him a lesson.” She nodded at the feral cat. “Thank you, Clarice.”
Clarice shrugged. “Eh. Just a little community service. I had my eye on that player for a while. Nasty little devil. I enjoyed it, actually. It’s not every day that I can take out the good old claws and get a little practice in.”
“I’m so sorry, Brutus,” Harriet said. “I know I hurt you terribly.”
“Oh, sweetie pie,” Brutus muttered brokenly. “Sugar plum.”
“Oh, hugsy wugsy,” Harriet sighed. “My huggy boo. Forgive me?”
“Of course, sweet cheeks. In a heartbeat.”
“Oh, cuddle cakes.”
The big reunion scene was both endearing and massively annoying, and I had to turn away when Harriet and Brutus started sniffing each other’s butts, just like old times.
“Ugh,” Clarice said. “I’m out of here. This is too much for me.”
This from the cat that took on bullies twice her size and fed on rats that would have scared the average human.
“Bye, Clarice,” Dooley said.
“See ya next time,” Clarice said, padding off. “Stay out of trouble, you two.”
We looked on as she gracefully jumped up on a dumpster, then onto a ledge, and then made her way to the roof of the nearest store.
Dooley let out a long sigh of admiration. “What a cat,” he said.
“Yeah, what a cat,” I agreed heartily.
Dooley turned to me. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Max.”
“That’s all right.”
“No, you were right. Diego was a bad influence. It’s just that… he sounded so convincing.”
“That’s the power of the dark side for you, Dooley,” I said.
“Oh, is that what that was?” he asked, eyes wide. “It’s so powerful!”
“Yeah, good thing Clarice showed up and brought you back to the light.”
“Right,” he said. “So Clarice is like Princess Leia, huh?”
“Um… something like that, I guess.”
We looked at Harriet and Brutus, in the midst of their make-up scene, and both turned away and started making our way out of the alley.
“I think I’m way too young for all that dating stuff, Max.”
“I think you’re right, Dooley.”
“It just looks very complicated.”
“Uh-huh.”
/> “I don’t like complicated, Max.”
“Me neither, Dooley. Me neither.”
Chapter 28
Odelia stubbornly walked on. If Chase didn’t want to confront Ziv Riding about his nocturnal visit to Hampton Cove, she was. She stalked over in the direction of the boutique where Max said he’d seen the Tesla parked, and saw Riding leaving the store and returning to his vehicle.
She hurried over, wanting to catch him before he skedaddled. The store was Riding’s, and exclusively carried the Ziv Riding brand.
“Mr. Riding!” she yelled. “Mr. Riding! A word, sir!”
Riding turned around, his hand on the door of his car. He was a handsome man with smooth, even features and remarkable black eyes. A smile spread on his face when he saw her coming. “Of course I’ll do a selfie, darling. But only one. And only from the right. That’s my best side.”
“My name is Odelia Poole, and I’m a reporter for the Hampton Cove Gazette and a civilian consultant with the Hampton Cove Police Department.”
His smile faltered. “No selfie?”
“No,” she said decidedly. “No selfie. Someone saw your car parked behind Fry Me for an Oyster a couple of nights ago.”
Now his smile was completely wiped away. “No comment, Miss…”
“Poole. Odelia Poole.”
He opened his car door and made to get in. “Bye, Miss Poole.”
“It was the same night Niklaus Skad was murdered, Mr. Riding. Would you care to comment?”
“No, I would rather not,” he said as he slid into his seat. He tried to close the door, but Odelia held onto it. “What was your involvement with Niklaus Skad, Mr. Riding?”
“No involvement. I liked his cooking show, though. Now could you please let go of my door, Miss Poole? It’s my door and I need it.”
“What about the sweatshop you built in town? What was your involvement with that?”
“I don’t know about any sweatshop. My clothes are all made in Asia. Now please if you could just…”
“Your clothes were made by Asian workers you illegally brought into this country and then set to work in appalling conditions.”
“Thank you for your interest,” he said. “Please schedule an interview with my publicist. I’m always happy to talk to the members of the press.”
With a press of his finger, he started the car and drove off, closing the door as he moved away. It was amazing, Odelia thought. The car hardly made any noise. It just… glided away ever so gracefully. Then she groaned in dismay. The guy was as slippery as they came. And she had nothing on him. Nothing at all.
She mounted the sidewalk and staggered off, feeling utterly dejected. Chase thought she was a flake and that she was hiding something. She’d just angered a fashion designer who probably had nothing to do with this whole Niklaus Skad thing. And she had to sort out the mess her cats had made. This whole Diego versus Brutus thing was getting out of hand.
She set foot for the alley Brutus had been talking about. Maybe she should sort this out once and for all. It wasn’t as if she had anything better to do. Like her uncle said, they caught the killer. He confessed. The rest was conjecture.
The first thing she saw when she entered the alley was Max and Dooley sauntering towards her. “Hey, Odelia,” said Max. “How did it go with Ziv Riding?”
“It didn’t. Though he drives a really cool car. How did things go with Diego?” Dooley jerked his thumb in the direction of the alley, and she saw Brutus and Harriet, smooching up a storm. “I take it things worked themselves out?”
“They certainly did,” Max said. “With a little help from Clarice.”
“Right,” she said.
“Hey. Isn’t that Grandma?” asked Max.
She looked in the direction indicated, and saw that it was indeed her grandmother, and she was looking just as dejected as she was feeling. She was shuffling along on the other side of the street. So she quickly crossed and joined her. “Gran? What’s wrong?”
Gran looked up, her wrinkly face drawn. “Oh, I won’t tell you.”
“You won’t tell me what?”
“You’ll just laugh at me.”
“I promise I won’t laugh at you.”
“It’s Leo. He left me.”
“He left you?”
“Yeah, for a younger woman. Can you believe it? We were making out in the park when some hot young dame sat down next to us. Leo’s eyes wandered, the hot chick giggled, and then his hands wandered and next thing I knew he was making out with her instead of me! I just left.”
“Some hot young chick made out with Leo? How old was this chick?”
“You know her. Frankie Canolli’s grandmother Jackie.”
“Jackie Canolli? But she’s like a hundred!”
Gran gave her a hard stare. “She’s younger than me!”
“Not by much.” Odelia had been in school with Frankie. They were the same age.
“Didn’t you tell her off? Or Leo?”
Gran shrugged her bony shoulders. “Ah. No use talking to Leo. We were never much for talking anyway. Ours was more a physical bond.”
“I’ll say,” she muttered.
“And I’m not speaking to Jackie. Haven’t said a word to her since she took my roast beef recipe and passed it off at the pinochle club as her own.”
She placed an arm around her grandmother’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. I didn’t like Leo, but that’s just because I didn’t think he deserved you.”
“I know he didn’t deserve me, but at my age you can’t afford to be choosy, honey.”
They walked in silence for a while. “Chase is mad with me,” she finally said.
“Oh? And why is that?”
“He thinks I’m hiding something from him.”
“About the cats, huh?”
“Yeah. He knows something is going on but he can’t figure out what it is and now he’s mad I’m not telling him.”
“So tell him.”
She looked at her grandmother. “What?”
“Just tell him. See how he reacts. If he’s fine with it, he’s a keeper. If not…” She held up her hand. “Well, then at least you know he doesn’t deserve you.”
She gave her grandmother a hug. “Thanks, Gran. I won’t tell him but still, thanks.”
“If you’re not going to tell him, and he’s going to stay mad at you, can I have a shot at him?”
“Gran!”
“Just asking.”
Chapter 29
Chase had placed his long legs on Chief Alec’s desk, while the chief had done the same on his side. They sat staring out the window. Chase still couldn’t get over the fact that Odelia would stubbornly insist they needed to go after this Ziv Riding character. The only thing the guy had done wrong—apart from running a sweatshop in this town—was drive the wrong car.
“I mean, you see that, right?” he asked for the umpteenth time. “It’s a Tesla! Everybody drives a Tesla these days. A buddy of mine is visiting Belgium and he said it’s full of Teslas over there. Frickin’ Belgium, for crying out loud!”
“Is Belgium even a country? I thought it was a city.”
“Pretty sure it’s a country, Chief. Beer, chocolate and waffles?”
“Oh, right.”
He lapsed into silence again. “And what about this cat business? There’s something going on with those cats of hers. Like she’s got some kind of intuition when it comes to Max. Is that even possible? Or normal?”
“Why not? It’s called women’s intuition, Chase. And Odelia loves her cats.”
“But cats are just a bunch of dumb animals. They can’t figure out that there’s a sweatshop in town. Or that there’s a black Tesla parked outside a restaurant. She’s hiding something, Chief. She’s got some secret informant and she won’t reveal her name. Yeah, it’s a she. She admitted that much.”
“Odelia is a reporter, Chase. Working with informants is what she does. And you know how a reporter feels about protecting a source. It’s important.�
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“I know that. I just…” He gave an annoyed grunt.
“You just hoped she would tell you all her secrets,” the Chief said with a grin.
“Well, yeah. I mean, why wouldn’t she? We work well together. She knows she can trust me. I won’t reveal her sources to anyone.”
“Just give her time, Chase. And don’t push her. The more you push her to give up her secrets the more she’s going to clamp up.”
“So what you’re saying is I should just let her harass this guy Ziv Riding?”
“He’s no boy scout. He did organize a sweatshop.”
“That doesn’t make him a killer.”
“No, it does not. It does make him a very bad man. Though it looks like he’ll walk away from this mess. Guy lawyered up big time.”
“Sure he did. He’ll pay a big-ass fine and he’ll go on making millions.”
“Oh, before I forget, the NYPD guy I talked to said they found a link between Niklaus Skad and Riding. Wanna hear about it?”
He jerked up, almost dropping out of his chair. “What?”
“Yeah. Funny thing is, I found the same email in Skad’s account.”
“And you’re only telling me this now?! Show me!”
“Hold your horses, cowboy. Now where is this darn thing…” He messed around on his computer, cursed a lot, and finally found it. “Here you go,” he said, swiveling the screen and stabbing at it with his finger. “Read it and weep.”
Chase scanned the email, then his eyes landed on the crucial paragraph. “I know about your dirty little secret and I’m not going to keep quiet unless you double your investment,” he read with rising surprise. “This is non-negotiable, Riding. You better do as I say or else.” Say what?
“Huh? Pretty explosive stuff.”
“Jeez…” he said, absolutely dumbfounded. “Oh, my God…”
“What?” Chief Alec asked with a chuckle. “Just proves these celebrities are all in bed together. All one big happy family, huh?”
His brain worked feverishly. “So Riding was an investor in Skad’s business. And somehow Skad had found out about the sweatshop and was threatening to expose it unless Riding doubled his investment.”
“Do you think that’s what he meant with ‘dirty little secret?’”