Purrfect Obsession Read online

  “I’ll tell you exactly why,” said Chase, who was his usual unruffled self. He was never better than when interviewing suspects and making them sweat. “You were having an affair with Dany Cooper, and when she pressured you into getting a divorce from your wife, you knew it was time to get rid of her.”

  “That’s... crazy,” blustered Don. “Who told you that?”

  “You told me yourself.” Chase placed Wolf’s own phone on the table and tapped it. “I’ve made a printout of your WhatsApp chats. Pretty hot stuff, Mr. Langdon.”

  Wolf’s face turned white as a sheet. “I thought WhatsApp messages were automatically deleted?”

  “That’s Snapchat. You should probably read up on your social media. Now do you still deny having an affair with Miss Cooper?”

  He hung his head. “No, I don’t,” he said, now with a voice as if from the tomb. “We were having an affair. It’s true.” He looked up. “But I didn’t kill her.”

  Chase took a stack of papers he’d brought into the interview room and began reading. “Wolfy, baby. Have you talked to your wife yet? Inquiring minds want to know. Smiley smiley smiley. When is the divorce planned? Heart heart heart. I think I can hear the wedding bells already. Kiss kiss kiss. Can’t wait to say I do, sweet boo. Cupid Cupid Cupid.”

  “All right, all right, all right,” said Wolf. “Yes. I promised her I’d divorce Emily.”

  “But you were never going to do that. Because your wife was your partner in Langdon Productions, and without her and her family’s money, you were sunk.”

  “Who told you all this?” Then he shook his head. “Never mind. You’re right. I couldn’t get a divorce. Not unless my next couple of projects all proved sure-fire hits. Emily had already told me she was sick and tired of throwing good money after bad. Called the production company a black hole. So it was do or die, and the Bard in the Park thing in the Hamptons was going to give me a lot of publicity and hopefully push my next Broadway show, which I’m hoping will put us in the black. And I promised Dany the main part.” He spread his arms. “So you see? I would never kill her. She was going to be my star.”

  “So why didn’t you give her the starring role in Bard in the Park?”

  “Like I said, I’m only doing these Bard in the Park shows for the visibility and the buzz. There’s no money in it. Plus, I didn’t want to show off Dany and risk her being wooed away by the competition when they saw how good she was. And she was awesome.”

  Odelia frowned. So what did that make her? Less than awesome, apparently.

  “You’re not making your case here, Wolf. You just admitted you couldn’t afford to get divorced. And that Dany was pressuring you. So why don’t you simply admit you killed her?”

  “But I didn’t! I loved that kid. She was great fun to be around. And I’m the one who discovered her. This was just like that movie...” He snapped his fingers. “A Star Is Born!”

  “In A Star Is Born the male commits suicide when the female’s success eclipses his own,” said Chase dryly.

  “What I mean to say is, I discovered her. I was going to turn her into a star, and—”

  “And then you were going to ride on the coattails of her success.”

  “Exactly!” said Wolf without a trace of irony. “She was my ticket to the big time. If she became a star, I didn’t need Emily or her damn money. I could buy her out. Be my own man!” He tapped the table frantically. “So why would I kill Dany, huh? It makes no sense!”

  Odelia turned to her uncle. “Max and Dooley talked to Wolf’s Chihuahua.”

  Uncle Alec grinned. “Now there’s something you don’t hear every day.”

  She ignored him. “The dog—who is called Ringo, by the way—said Wolf would never kill Dany. They had a good thing going, but also, Wolf was with Ringo when Dany was killed. He saw the killer, Alec. He saw the killer and it wasn’t Wolf Langdon.”

  Uncle Alec fingered one of his chins. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes. Ringo also said he didn’t get a good look at the killer’s face, but an owl did.”

  Alec’s grin widened. “An owl.”

  “An owl, yes. Sitting in a tree…” Hearing herself, she had to smile, too. It sounded pretty ridiculous. “Anyway, Max and Dooley are talking to this owl as we speak, so…”

  Uncle Alec nodded. “You think we may have arrested the wrong guy.”

  “Could be. Unless the dog is lying, but in my experience dogs rarely lie.”

  That grin was back.

  “Yes, I know how this sounds,” she said. “But you know me, uncle. I’ve solved cases you thought were unsolvable before.”

  “I know you have. And I’ll be happy to hear what this... owl has to say. In the meantime Wolf Langdon is still my best suspect, and I’m keeping him right here.”

  “The yellow parka.”

  “The yellow parka—and his motive. Greed is always a great motive for murder, and he had a whopper of a motive, no matter what he’s saying about this A Storm Is Born stuff.”

  She didn’t bother to correct him. “Someone could have planted that parka.”

  “Someone could have, but in my experience that is rarely the case.”

  “So what about the Chihuahua and the owl?”

  He held up his hand. “I know your Dr. Dolittle qualities have been useful on more than one occasion, honey, but the statement of a dog and an owl is not something that will stand up in court, I’m afraid. A solid motive and physical evidence, on the other hand…”

  “I understand,” she said.

  “Besides. Just like humans sometimes make lousy witnesses, so can dogs. Or owls.”

  She glanced back at Wolf, who was still trying to convince Chase of his innocence.

  Looked like her career as an actress was finished before it even started.

  Chapter 29

  The next day, Tex was on his way to work when suddenly a flowerpot crashed down onto the pavement right in front of him. One fraction of a second later, and he’d have gotten it straight on the noggin. It was a heavy flowerpot, as flowerpots go, and would have crushed his skull and sent him to an early grave if the thing had hit its intended target.

  Intended target?

  Even while his heart was still beating a snare drum inside his chest, Tex wondered why the thought had occurred to him that this was no random flowerpot incident but a concerted effort to make him dead. In other words, an attempt on his life.

  He glanced down at the flowerpot, which now rested beyond repair at his feet, sand and a wilted undefinable plant spilling out beyond the shards. Then he looked up to determine the source of the phenomenon. A windowsill on the third floor of an adjacent building was the likely resting place of the pot before it had decided to take the sudden leap into the unknown. And just as he looked, he thought he saw that very same window that was framed by that very same ledge, gently being closed by an unseen hand.

  His face took on a more determined expression. “Hey!” he shouted, balling his fist at the now-closed window. “I saw you! Don’t think for a minute I didn’t see you! What’s the big idea, chucking flowerpots at innocent passersby?”

  And in a sudden wave of indignation, he turned to the house whose window had been used for this dastardly murder attempt, and rattled its handle. Locked, of course. But no worries. The culprit who’d done this dastardly deed no doubt was still inside.

  “Let’s see you get away with this,” Tex muttered, as he took out his phone. He called up his brother-in-law’s number and hit Connect. The moment Alec picked up, he bellowed, “Alec! Someone just tried to kill me! That’s right. And I’ve got the killer locked up in the house! He’s not getting away. You better do what it is you do—arrest him! Arrest him, man!”

  Five minutes later, three police vehicles descended on the scene, sirens wailing, and six police officers exited and one ruddy-looking police chief. Alec was panting. An attack on his brother-in-law in his own town was not something that happened every day, nor was it something he wa
s willing to overlook.

  “Where is he?” he said between two gulping breaths as he came hurrying up. He dragged up his pants, which, in spite of his sturdy belt, always seemed to be sagging, and glanced up at the house Tex was pointing a rigid finger at.

  “He’s still inside. I’m sure of it. I’ve been here all this time and he hasn’t come out.”

  “What did he do? Take a shot at you?”

  “Worse! He dropped a flowerpot on my head!”

  Alec blinked. “A flowerpot?”

  “A flowerpot!”

  And to prove he wasn’t making this up, he pointed at the evidence.

  Alec stared at the remnants of the flowerpot which now lay in ruins.

  “So who was he?”

  “Mh?”

  “The guy who threw the pot at you?”

  “I have no idea. He’s locked himself inside and he won’t come out. And don’t think I haven’t tried. I must have rung the bell a million times. I even pounded the door.”

  Alec gestured to his troops. “Break down this door. And use extreme caution. There’s a killer inside.”

  His officers wasted no time and had the door down within seconds, using a nifty device that looked like something the Assyrians would have used to attack an enemy city. It was called a battering ram, Alec said, which seemed appropriate. Tex wasn’t interested in the nomenclature or the technical details of the operation, though. All he wanted was to see justice done and this killer taken into custody so he could never flowerpotbomb anyone ever again.

  Five minutes later, the police officers came walking out of the building. One after the other, they shook their heads.

  “No one?” asked Tex, incredulous.

  “Not a single person inside,” said the last officer to exit the house. “And we searched the place top to bottom. There was a window open on the second floor, though, so the culprit may have escaped through there. It’s only a six foot drop onto the roof of a shack of some kind, and we found several footprints right next to it.”

  “Make sure you photograph those prints,” Alec ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” said the cop, and returned into the house to carry out the boss’s orders.

  Alec scratched his head. “One question, Tex.”

  “Shoot.”

  “Are you sure you saw someone chuck this pot at you?”

  “Of course I’m sure! I saw the window close myself.”

  “So can you describe this flowerpot chucker to me?”

  “Eh?”

  “What did he look like?” He’d taken out his little notebook and was hovering pencil over paper, ready to take down Tex’s detailed description.

  “Well, I didn’t see his face, of course. By the time I looked up, he was gone.”

  Alec frowned. “You didn’t see his face.”

  “Of course not. I was too busy reeling from the shock. Have you ever had a flowerpot aimed at your head? No? Then you have no idea how terrible it feels. Your heart races, you see your whole life flash by in an instant, your blood pressure spikes…” Speaking of blood pressure, he now pressed his index finger against his jugular and checked his watch.

  Alec used his pencil to scratch his scalp. “So how do know it was a he?”

  “Eh?” Blood pressure seemed normal. Under the circumstances, of course.

  “How do you know—”

  “I heard you the first time. Well, why wouldn’t it be a he? I can’t imagine a woman throwing a flowerpot at an innocent passerby. Men are more prone to violence. Everybody knows that. And don’t you remember how Brutus almost got run over by that man in the yellow parka yesterday? Obviously someone is targeting this family, Alec, and obviously this person is a man. The same man who killed that poor girl that looked so much like Odelia.”

  “I don’t—”

  Tex did a double take. “Do you think he may have made a mistake? That he wanted to kill Odelia but he killed this Dany Cooper girl instead?”

  “I don’t think—”

  He tapped Alec’s chest sharply. “That means Odelia might still be in danger, Alec! You must send a unit round to her house at once. On the double!”

  “I don’t think there’s any chance of that, Tex.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because we caught Dany Cooper’s killer last night. He’s in custody and he won’t kill again.”

  This had Tex stumped for a moment. He was, after all, a doctor, not a cop, and these glimpses into the inner workings of a police department sometimes confused him. Then something occurred to him. He tapped Alec’s chest again, making the other man wince. “Have you considered that you may have arrested the wrong man?”

  “The wrong man?”

  “Of course! If the killer is in custody, how do you explain him chucking flowerpots at me?!”

  Chapter 30

  Gran was on her way to work when she noticed that her son-in-law and a whole bunch of cops stood gabbing away across the street. She liked to leave a few minutes after Tex, because she didn’t want him to think of her as a mere employee doing his bidding. She might have accepted to work at his doctor’s office as a favor to Tex, but that didn’t mean she was his underling. She was her own person and not a flunky to be ordered around by Tex.

  It had always been Vesta’s opinion that a son-in-law should be kept on a short leash, and a very short one at that. So when she saw Tex having a nice chat with Alec while they should be working, she didn’t even bother to join them. If Tex wanted to spend his time chatting instead of putting in the hours he owed his patients, that was his business. She would make sure she showed up first, and tell the patients the doctor had been delayed.

  Or she could put in a quick stop at the deli and pick up some of that strawberry cream chocolate she liked so much. Or maybe she’d get the caramel cream one. And as she pondered this all-important decision, she suddenly stepped on a roller skate, which, true to form, slipped from under her and she fell, hard, on the pavement. And just as she did, she caught a glimpse of something yellow streak past in the front yard of the adjacent house.

  Immediately, she started screaming bloody murder. Moments later, Tex, Alec and the entirety of the Hampton Cove Police Department came hopping to.

  “Ma!” Alec cried, taking her left arm. “Are you all right?”

  “What happened?” asked Tex, grabbing her right arm. Together, they hoisted her up.

  “Someone put that skate there on purpose!” she exclaimed, pointing at the offending skate.

  “Are you sure?” asked Alec.

  “Of course I’m sure. What kind of question is that! I saw him! He was dressed in yellow and he ran that way.” When no one moved, she yelled, “Don’t just stand there! Go after him!”

  And after him they went, all cops except for Alec and Tex, who wasn’t a cop but a doctor, and was now examining her for possible fractures.

  She yanked her arm from his grasp. “Oh, I’m all right. It takes more than a nasty killer to get the better of me.”

  “So you saw him too, huh?” said Tex, who looked shaken.

  It was too much to say that her son-in-law’s sudden concern touched Gran’s heart, such as it was, but it did give her a twinge of satisfaction. She’d obviously trained Tex well, for him to suddenly display these signs of affection towards his sweet old mother-in-law.

  “Yeah, I saw him. Dressed in yellow. A real fiend, to leave a skate like that. He must have known I’d trip over it and hoped I’d break my neck, being the old lady that I am. Old ladies easily break their necks, you see, on account of the fact that their bones are brittle and stuff. Not my bones, though. He hadn’t counted on that, the piece of skunk that he is.”

  Alec was studying the skate. “Are you sure it wasn’t just kids that left this thing?”

  “Of course I’m sure! Odelia told me about the killer dressed in yellow who killed her lookalike. Then Tex saves poor Brutus from the same killer. And now the killer tried to kill me! It’s an outrage he’s still running around free
! What the heck do I pay taxes for?”

  “You don’t pay taxes, Ma,” said Alec, the wise-ass. “You’re retired.”

  “I’m a working woman. Of course I pay taxes!”

  “You’re a volunteer. I don’t pay you,” said Tex.

  “What?! I work for free?! That’s an outrage! I’m going to the union, you cheapskate!”

  “I pay you a little something under the table.” He made a weird move with his hand, as if scooping up a pancake. “Get it? Under the table? Besides, I give you room and board.”

  “I get that you’re exploiting a poor old lady, you robber baron. Wait till the union is through with you. You’ll be happy if they leave you so much as a cardboard box to sleep in.”

  “Tex thinks he was attacked, too,” said Alec, returning to the point.

  “I don’t think I was attacked. I was attacked. By the same killer who attacked Vesta.”

  “See?” said Gran. “Even Tex was attacked, and he’s probably Odelia’s least favorite family member.”

  Tex stared at her. “Come again?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? This killer is targeting the people Odelia cares about the most. He attacked the girl, the actress, to make sure he got Odelia’s attention, then he attacked Brutus—probably because Max wasn’t available—and now he attacked me, the favorite. Next he’ll attack Marge, and he was going to keep you for last, Tex. My best guess is that he probably saw you passing by and figured why the hell not strike while the flowerpot is hot?”

  Alec and Tex exchanged a glance. “Marge!” they both exclaimed simultaneously.

  Alec searched around for his officers and cursed under his breath. They were all gone, of course, having followed his orders to track down Vesta’s roller skate killer.

  “You should really discipline your people, Alec,” said Gran. “You can’t just let them wander off like that when you need them the most.”

  But Alec was already running away, along with Tex, in the direction of the library, Marge’s place of employment.

  “Nice,” Gran grumbled. “Talk about victim assistance. Leaving a poor old lady to deal with the trauma of her near-death experience all by herself.” But then the significance of her own words came home to her, and she muttered, “Marge. Oh, dammit.” And as fast as her sticks for legs could carry her, she was off in the direction of the library, too.