Purrfect Crime (The Mysteries of Max Book 5) Read online

  Just then, Odelia approached, glanced around, and then whispered, “Max! Dooley! Where are you guys?”

  It was our cue and we emerged from beneath the vehicle, but not before taking a look around to ascertain whether Rex and Rollo were gone. They were.

  “What were you all doing underneath the car?” asked Odelia with an expression of surprise on her face.

  “Oh, just holding an emergency meeting,” I said. “Us cats like to hold our meetings under cars. It seems to stimulate our creativity for some reason.”

  “Yeah, must be the presence of all that oil and grease,” said Brutus a little pompously. “Oils the creative processes, it does.”

  Dooley was rubbing his shoulder where Brutus had just punched him. The big cat had taken a dim view of Dooley’s efforts to get in good with his girlfriend and had shown him what he felt about that. As a consequence, Harriet was seeing her beau in an entirely new light as well, for she said, “Why did you punch Dooley, Brutus? That was uncalled for and absolutely unnecessary.”

  “I, um…” the black cat began.

  “You’re just as bad as Chase Kingsley,” Harriet said with a shake of the head, and then hopped into the pickup, following Odelia’s example.

  We all filed in after her. “Who was that man Chase knocked out?” asked Harriet.

  “Oh, just some protestor,” said Odelia, buckling up. She turned to us. “So? What did you guys find out?”

  “That Donna Bruce had a very bad taste in pets,” I said, and told her about our unproductive encounter with Rex and Rollo.

  “And that Chase Kingsley is a very violent man,” said Harriet primly.

  “And that Bradley Cooper looks great with a beard,” Dooley added, earning himself a smile from Harriet and a scowl from Brutus.

  Ignoring the remark about Bradley Cooper, Odelia asked, “Why do you think Chase is a violent man, Harriet?”

  “Did you not see how he simply knocked out an innocent bystander, absolutely unprovoked? I think it raises all kinds of issues, Odelia. One of which is that the man is obviously completely out of control.”

  “I think you’ve got that wrong, Harriet,” said Odelia to my surprise. “Chase was hit over the head by the man. All he did was retaliate.”

  “See?” I asked triumphantly. “Chase had every right to knock that guy’s block off.”

  “I still think it was uncalled for and very, very rude,” Harriet insisted. “And it shows a side of the man’s character that I’d never seen before.”

  “I think it was heroic,” I said. “He obviously was trying to protect Odelia.”

  “Who was in no danger whatsoever,” Harriet countered.

  “She was. The man is a menace. Someone had to take him down and Chase did.”

  “I think Harriet is right,” Dooley piped up, gulping slightly when Brutus gave him one of his trademark scowls again. “And it’s all in the Constitution and all that…” His voice died away.

  Odelia, clearly not in the mood for this conversation, said, “Look, I need you to focus on finding Donna Bruce’s killer, not comment on Chase’s alleged violent tendencies. Are you going to help me or not? If not, that’s fine with me. I’ll just drop you off at the house and you can continue this pointless discussion indefinitely.”

  “Oh, no, we are going to help you,” I said quickly. “I mean, I am going to help you.”

  “Me, too,” said Brutus. “In fact I’m pretty sure I already know who the killer is. I just need some time to come up with the evidence that will tie this case together.”

  I eyed him dubiously. I was pretty sure he had no clue who the killer was.

  “And I also have a pretty good idea who did it,” said Harriet primly.

  “Me too,” Dooley said weakly. “I’m sure I have a great idea who killed…”

  “Donna Bruce,” I said helpfully.

  “Exactly,” Dooley said.

  Odelia eyed us with a glint of humor in her eye. “So you all know who the killer is, huh? So when are you going to tell me?” We all started talking simultaneously, and she held up her hands in a bid to silence us. “You need to work together on this, you guys.”

  “I cannot in all good conscience collaborate with anyone who condones violence,” said Harriet, directing a critical eye at me and Brutus. “That is simply out of the question.”

  “Me either,” said Dooley. “I don’t violently condone a conscience. Absolutely not.”

  “Right,” said Odelia with a slight grin. “Looks like the allegiances have shifted again. So what I’ll do is appoint a lead investigator in this case. He or she will be the one who takes the lead and who will bring this case to a close.”

  I frowned. What was she talking about? I was her main cat. Always had been. She was my human, after all. Harriet belonged to Marge. Dooley belonged to Vesta. Brutus belonged to Chase. I was the only one who belonged to her. So technically I was the only lead investigator in any case she was involved in. But she ignored my studious frown.

  “And I’m picking Harriet,” she finally said after a moment’s deliberation.

  Dooley, Brutus and I all exclaimed “What?!!!”

  “Yes, I think Harriet is going to be great,” said Odelia with a smile.

  Harriet was beaming. “Oh, Odelia, you won’t regret this!” she exclaimed. “I’m going to catch this killer for you!”

  “I know you will, honey,” said Odelia. “The rest of you guys can just sit this one out, all right? Harriet is going to catch this killer all by herself.” And with these words, she turned to the front again and started up the car. It rumbled to life with a throaty purr.

  Harriet’s smile waned a little. “Wait, what?”

  “You’re on your own, honey,” said Odelia. “Max, Dooley and Brutus are out.”

  “But…” Harriet frowned, thinking this through. “You mean I have to do this all by myself?”

  Odelia glanced over her shoulder. “Is that a problem?”

  “No!” Harriet was quick to say. “No, I—I can do this. Of course I can.”

  “That’s what I thought. In fact, now that I come to think of it, Chase and I will sit this one out as well. Chase is entirely too violent—you got that right. And I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, as usual.” She sighed. “So I guess it’s all up to you, honey.”

  Harriet’s lips moved wordlessly, as panic was clear in her eyes. “All up to me,” she echoed.

  “Yep. Good thing you’re up to the task, or else I’d be worried if I was one of Donna Bruce’s relatives. Or, God forbid, Sweetums or Honeychild. I’m sure they want to know what happened to their mother, poor kids.”

  The distinct look of panic in Harriet’s eyes had increased. Then, suddenly, she cried out, “Don’t do it!”

  Odelia frowned. “Don’t do what, honey?”

  “Don’t let me do this by myself! I’m—I’m not up to the task! I—I wouldn’t know where to begin. Let’s…” She directed a pleading glance in my direction. “Let’s all do this together. As a team. Just the way we always do. Please, Odelia?”

  Odelia thought about this for a moment. “But I thought you said Brutus was entirely too violent? And so was Max? And, for that matter, Chase? I got the distinct impression you thought you could handle this all on your own, without any help from anyone?”

  “No, I can’t! I’m sorry! I was just—I was just—I don’t know what I was thinking! All I know is that I can’t do this without you guys. Brutus—Dooley—Max. We’re a team, right? We make a great team.”

  Odelia smiled. “I’m glad you think so, Harriet. So… are you sure you don’t want to do this all by yourself?”

  “No, I don’t!”

  Odelia shrugged. “Okay, then. I guess we’re all on board again.”

  “Yay!” Harriet squealed, doing a happy dance on the backseat.

  Odelia locked eyes with me and gave me a wink. I returned it with relish.

  My human, people. She’s the greatest.

  “So from now on Ha
rriet is in charge. You will all follow her lead,” Odelia said, and drove off.

  My human. She’s completely nuts!

  Chapter 7

  After dropping off the cats at the house, Odelia headed for the police station, to assist Chase while he interviewed the man they’d arrested outside the Donna Bruce residence. Judging from his behavior he was now the prime suspect in the murder of the celebrity lifestyle guru.

  She parked in front of the station house and got out. There were a bunch of reporters camped out in front of the squat building, and she wondered if this was going to pose a problem for the investigation. When celebrities were murdered, the accompanying attention sometimes worked disruptive, pushing the people in charge of the investigation to make rash decisions they wouldn’t otherwise make. Then again, this was Chase Kingsley. He wasn’t the kind of guy to allow emotion to trump reason.

  She hiked her purse up her shoulder and headed inside, keeping her head down as the reporters studied her curiously, probably wondering if and how she was connected to the case. Fortunately for her, she had one of those unremarkable faces that easily get lost in the crowd, so they quickly dismissed her and went about their business of interviewing each other on camera.

  She waved a greeting at Dolores, the big-haired receptionist manning the front desk, and made her way to her uncle’s office at the end of the hallway. When she swept inside, Chase was pacing the room, looking slightly agitated, while her uncle was seated at his desk, his feet up, hands behind his head, the picture of calm and poise.

  “I’m telling you, Chief, this is our guy. He’s obviously bearing a grudge, he was at the scene, and he is as hostile and aggressive as they come. Now all we have to do is establish means and opportunity and we’re home free. Oh, hey, Odelia. We were just discussing the arrest of Alpin Carré.”

  “The guy who hit you over the head with his placard.”

  Chase’s jaw worked. “That’s the one.”

  She took a seat in front of her uncle. “So you think he might be our guy?”

  “I’m ninety-five percent positive.”

  “And I’m not,” said Uncle Alec. “I know Alpin, Chase. He might be a hothead but he’s not a killer. Heck, the guy is a publisher. And a very successful one at that. Publishes these books about angels and the healing power of crystals and stuff like that.”

  “Healing power of crystals? “

  “Yeah, he had a real bestseller last year with The Shed. I don’t know if you’ve heard about it. Everybody was reading it.”

  “The book about the guy who finds God while sitting alone in his shed?”

  Uncle Alec nodded. “They’re turning it into a movie starring Chris Pratt. I think they tapped George Clooney to play the voice of God.”

  “Great choice,” said Odelia. If God had a voice it would be Clooney’s. Though in this day and age of gender equality and feminism, maybe Meryl Streep was the more politically correct option.

  Chase made a slashing motion with his hand. “Look, I don’t care if the guy can walk on water. He’s clearly unhinged, so in my book he’s our prime suspect.”

  “What about the ex-husband?” asked Odelia. “Hillary Davies seemed pretty sure he was the one.” She turned to her uncle. “Is he in town?”

  Uncle Alec nodded. “Yes, he is. He recently moved to the Hamptons in an effort to see more of his kids. Though I’m not sure if his ex-wife was all that happy about it.”

  “Why don’t we interview the placard swinger first and then look into the ex-husband?”

  “I already set up an appointment,” said her uncle. “You’ll see him this afternoon. And now you better interview Alpin before he talks God into rescuing him from his cell.” He gave Odelia a wink. “Or talks to his lawyer, which is more likely.”

  They both sat down in front of the irate publisher, who sat shackled to the table in the interview room. His hair was mussed and he was sporting a bloody nose and a black eye but otherwise appeared to have calmed down considerably since his run-in with Chase’s fist.

  “Look, I can’t be in here,” he said the moment Odelia and Chase walked in. “I have meetings to attend—plus, I have to take my daughter to her ballet lesson and my son to his little league game—I’m also the trainer, you see, so I can’t afford to be late. A dozen kids are counting on me.”

  “You should have thought of that before you assaulted a police officer,” said Chase gravely.

  “I—I wasn’t thinking, okay?” asked the guy, running a hand through his red mane. “I just wanted to talk to Donna. She’s been fighting us on this wall issue for months and frankly I’m fed up.”

  “What’s the story behind this wall?” asked Odelia.

  Alpin sighed. “About a year ago Donna filed the necessary paperwork to build an extension on the west side of her current property, adjacent to mine. At first all she wanted was to build a gazebo, which was fine by me, even though it would have been right next to my pool. So I called her and asked her if she was going to throw parties at this gazebo or what? She said she was building it as a temple of solitude—a place for her to meditate in peace and quiet. So I gave her my blessing and said to knock herself out. Only she must have realized she wasn’t going to get a lot of peace and quiet if she was building this temple of solitude twenty yards from my pool, so she filed new plans, which included a twenty-foot wall!”

  “That’s… high,” said Odelia.

  The man scoffed, “You don’t say! That monstrosity was going to block out my sun. Right next to my pool! And then she came up with a plan to extend this wall all around her property, which would affect not just me but two of her other neighbors as well. And to make matters worse she was also going to cut an access road that is used by pretty much the entire neighborhood. So as you can imagine, the neighborhood association wasn’t too happy about this.”

  “Did you try and talk her out of it?”

  “Yes, I did. We all did. We organized a meet, but she never showed up. Instead, she sent her lawyer, who said we didn’t have a leg to stand on and that her client was adamant to go through with her plans regardless our protestations.”

  “What did the council say?”

  “Apparently they were all big fans of Donna’s cause they told us she had every right to put in place measures that would increase her sense of safety and security. There had been several threats made against the lady’s life and she was forced to tighten security measures.” He held up his hand. “Which I totally understand. But not at the expense of the entire neighborhood. I’m sure that if we could have sat down with Donna and talked things through, we could have made her see reason. Instead she chose to bulldoze her plans through and shove them down our throats!”

  “And you weren’t having it.”

  “Damn straight we weren’t having it!”

  “So you killed her,” said Chase.

  The man’s face morphed into an expression of shock. “Killed her?!”

  “At seven o’clock this morning you attacked Donna Bruce and murdered her.”

  “Murdered her! Donna was… murdered?!”

  “Oh, come off it, Mr. Carré. You know very well what happened. You were there.”

  “No, I wasn’t! I—I didn’t even know she was dead.”

  “Why did you think the police were at the scene?”

  The man’s jaw had dropped and he hitched it up with some effort. “I just figured you were there to protect her from… us.”

  “Where were you this morning at seven, Mr. Carré?”

  “I was home, preparing for the demonstration. Just ask my neighbors. We were putting together…” He cut a quick look to Chase. “… placards.”

  Chase rubbed his head where the placard had struck and gave the other man a dirty look. “Are you sure you didn’t sneak out at some point to lock Mrs. Bruce up inside her sauna cabin and unleash a bunch of bees on her?”

  “Bees? Of course not. Where would I get a bunch of bees?”

  “At the bee farm.”

/>   “Look,” he said, licking his lips nervously. “Talk to my neighbors. Or my wife, for that matter. I was right there—up at the crack of dawn, on the phone with the other guys, and we all met at six to start preparations for the demonstration. We weren’t going to let Donna pull a fast one on us. We were going to take this thing to court if we had to. I still hoped she would listen to reason once she realized she was antagonizing the entire neighborhood. But I swear to God, I would never kill her!”

  “Do you have any idea who would have?” asked Odelia.

  He thought for a moment. “Well, like I said, death threats had been made against her.”

  “Any idea who made them?”

  “There was this producer whose career she ruined. Um, what’s his name…” He snapped his fingers, then his face cleared. “Ransom Montlló. I remember because his name came up when we were in talks to turn The Shed into a motion picture. The guy’s a washout, though. Nobody will work with him. And he’s got Donna Bruce to thank for that.”

  “So it’s true that The Shed is going to be a movie?”

  The man smiled for the first time. “I’m afraid I can’t discuss the particulars but so far it’s looking pretty good.”

  “And George Clooney is attached to play God?”

  His smile widened. “I cannot confirm or deny anything.”

  Chase made a sound of disgust and got up. “Please don’t leave town, Mr. Carré. We’re not through with you yet.”

  “Look, I’m sorry, all right?” the publisher said, holding up a hand in a gesture of appeasement. “I’m not normally a violent man, but Donna had us with our backs against the wall—no pun intended. We were just trying to protect the neighborhood. I’m sorry about your head, dude.”

  “That’s all right,” Odelia said. “Chase has a thick skull. I’m sure you didn’t even make a dent.”

  Chase made a growling sound at the back of his throat, and Odelia decided that perhaps it would be best not to poke the bear. So she also got up and thanked Alpin Carré for his time. The man frowned. “So… am I under arrest here or what?”