Purrfect Obsession Page 9

  Brutus winced at the mention of the word execute. He darted a quick glance at Harriet, then continued licking his injured nose. For what it was worth, I figured it was only a small price to pay for his stupidity. Everyone in cat choir knew Darlene was a tease and a loose cat and everyone steered clear of her because of that fact. Now Brutus knew, too.

  “I figured I’d just... wing it, you know,” said Odelia.

  Chase laughed. “Wing it. I like that. Why don’t we simply go in through the basement? When I was checking out the manor this afternoon I noticed the lock is broken on the second basement window from the right. A good shove and we’re in.”

  Odelia turned to Chase, a look of surprise on her face. “You were planning this before I even got the idea!”

  “I wasn’t planning anything. Just happened to check the perimeter for possible weaknesses and just happened to notice the window.” His grin vanished. “Truth be told, Wolf asked us to give his security team a thorough screening. Dany being killed in broad daylight like that? There is obviously something wrong with the way security is organized.”

  “I don’t think Wolf has any security to speak of. At least not that I ever noticed.”

  “He has a few people on his payroll, but they’re not highly skilled or organized. I told him to hire a professional crew and that’s what he promised me he’d do.”

  “You also told him about the wonky window?”

  The grin returned. “I decided to wait until after the new team arrived.” He shrugged. “What? I know how your mind works, babe. You just love this breaking and entering stuff.”

  “I do love this breaking and entering stuff,” she admitted. “And you know what else I love right now?”

  “I have no idea,” he said, his grin widening.

  “You, you big doofus. C’mere.”

  “Not while I’m driving, babe.”

  “C’mere!”

  There ensued yet another one of those scenes that are incredibly awkward for cats to watch.

  Humans kissing.

  Yuck.

  Chapter 21

  It was well past midnight now, but the light in some of the windows of Whitmore Manor was still shining as bright as day. Then again, these were creative people. Actors. And clearly actors, like vampires, preferred to live at night and eschew daylight.

  “Looks like they’re not asleep yet,” said Chase, glancing up at the three or four lit up windows. He settled back in his car seat, which he’d cranked back. “We’re in for a long wait, babe.”

  “I’m going to let the cats out,” she said. “They’re not going to be comfortable cooped up inside the car. And she opened the door to let us out. We jumped at the chance. Well, all of us except Harriet, who still didn’t seem keen to join in the nocturnal adventure.

  I gave Odelia a wave of the tail goodbye and she closed the door again. I just knew there would be plenty more nookie and I was glad she’d spared us having to witness it.

  “So how are we going to get in?” asked Brutus.

  “You heard Chase. There’s a wonky window near the back,” I said. “I’m sure we’ll be able to sneak in that way.”

  Chase had parked his car inside the Whitmore Manor domain. Clearly security left something to be desired, judging from the front gate which had been left wide open, and not a single guard placed at the entrance to halt our access to the manor. He’d parked under a big oak tree, to provide himself some measure of cover, and for them the long wait began. For us, the long trek through the manor began, in search of this illustrious Chihuahua.

  Dooley and I quickly moved ahead, Harriet and Brutus trailing behind. At a certain point I heard Brutus exclaim, “It was a matter of perspective!” and I shook my head.

  “Brutus really is in the doghouse, isn’t he?” Dooley said.

  “Or the cathouse, depending on your perspective,” I said, and we both giggled like two silly kittens. Even though Brutus and Harriet might take this thing bloody seriously—literally—that didn’t mean Dooley and I couldn’t extract some merriment from the episode.

  We found the window just where Chase had said it was, and snuck into the manor through the crack—dropping gracefully to the cement floor below. It was pretty dusty and dank-smelling in the basement, but then basements usually are.

  Odelia had told me Langdon’s bedroom was on the third floor, the last room on the left, so that was our destination. We snuck through the basement, which was just a collection of old furniture covered in white sheets gathering dust, snuck up the stairs, through a long corridor, and up more stairs, these ones marble instead of rickety wood.

  Upstairs, we heard laughter and singing coming from one of the rooms, and I quickly snuck a peek. Four or five people were smoking something that had an acrid tinge to it that wasn’t tobacco, and drinking a substance that wasn’t lemonade. They looked as if they were having a whale of a time. They were also partly naked, so I quickly retreated. I’d been forced to witness enough human nookie for one day thank you very much.

  The third floor proved more quiet and peaceful than the second, which was a good sign.

  “I’m not sure about this, Max,” Dooley said as we tiptoed underneath the portrait of a dour-looking man dressed in a hunter’s outfit. Dogs were converging on a deer, and I felt for the poor deer.

  “I’m not too sure about this either,” I admitted. It was all well and good to describe this Chihuahua as a sweetheart and a cutie pie, but dogs are a treacherous breed. They can be sweet and cute one minute, then viciously turn on you the next. I was going to keep my options open and make sure I had my route of escape mapped out just in case.

  “Do you think Brutus and Harriet got lost?” he asked as we paused to listen for sounds of human activity.

  I glanced back to the stairs. There was no sign of either one of our two friends.

  “I just hope they haven’t killed each other,” I said with a twinge of concern. That slash across the nose was still fresh in my mind, and the thought rankled.

  “Maybe we should turn back,” said Dooley, glancing up at yet another hunting print, this one depicting a brace of dogs tearing into a poor rabbit. It was definitely a bad omen.

  “We need to press on,” I told Dooley. “Odelia expects us to talk to this dog, so we need to talk to this dog.”

  We moved along the corridor, which was all dark paneled walls and oak parquet covered with a long and high-pile runner our paws sank into. The smell was musty, either from the smokers on the second floor, or the natural smell of an old manor.

  We finally arrived at the last door on the left, and to my relief it was ajar. Cats, as you may or may not know, have a hard time opening doors. At least when they operate on a knob principle. Tough to turn a knob when all you have are soft pink pads, fur and claws.

  We snuck into the room, careful not to make a sound. From inside, snoring drifted our way. And as we moved deeper into the room, a peaceful scene greeted us: there, in the middle of the room, a man was sleeping in a big four-poster bed, a dog draped across his feet. A night light had been left on, bathing the Hallmark-type scene in a soft golden hue.

  “Aww,” I said.

  “How sweet,” Dooley echoed.

  At this, the doggie pricked up its ears, then sniffed the air, and finally spotted us.

  He made a soft gulping sound, then abruptly jumped down from the bed and scooted behind the nightstand.

  So much for the rabid, cat-devouring monster we’d been dreading to encounter.

  Chapter 22

  Odelia was getting tired of sitting in a car waiting for a bunch of party people to finally go to bed. Not that she minded being cooped up in a small space with Chase—far from it—but she had another big day tomorrow, and she was one of those people who, when they didn’t get enough sleep, were complete and utter wrecks the next day.

  “When are they finally going to bed?” she grumbled, when she saw that in one room the lights were still on. “Don’t they need to sleep?”

 
; “They’re young. They’re free. And they probably want to get through the bag of weed Wolf provided—or maybe it was Conway Kemp. The stories tend to differ depending on the source.”

  “Weed? And you approve of this?

  “Hey, as long as the politicians don’t make up their minds, I’m not touching that.”

  “Is that what you and Miss Blonde talked about?”

  “She did ask about the laws in the state of New York regarding the recreational use of marihuana,” he said with a grin.

  “And what did you tell her?”

  “That marijuana is still illegal except for medical use on a strictly regulated basis. But that you won’t get arrested for smoking in public unless you’re driving a car or have a criminal record—at most you can expect a fine these days.”

  “Which you’re not going to give them.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve got my orders, babe. Stuff is above my pay grade.”

  “Sounds like a pretty lame excuse to me.”

  He laughed. “I take it you’re not a big fan of weed.”

  No, she wasn’t, but that was not an argument she was prepared to get into right now. “What else did you talk about?”

  “Well, about the affair Wolf and Dany were reportedly having.”

  “Nothing reportedly about it. Looks like everyone knew about it, except me.”

  “And Wolf’s wife. Until not so long ago she was in the dark, too.”

  “So where is Mrs. Langdon?”

  “Staying in town at the Star.”

  The Hampton Cove Star was a boutique hotel located right on Main Street. “The Star? Why not at the manor?”

  “She was at the manor at first, but my guess is that she got tired of having to watch her husband getting frisky with Dany so she relocated to the Star.”

  “Have you talked to her?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact I have.”

  “Oh, someone’s been a busy boy.”

  “Your uncle did urge us to handle this murder business quickly and with the utmost expedience so that’s what I’m doing.”

  “And? What did Mrs. Langdon have to say?”

  “She didn’t exactly burst into tears when I told her about what happened to Dany.”

  “Which is understandable.”

  “Exactly. She admitted she’d heard the rumors, too, and that’s why she moved to the Star. She also said she was considering divorcing Wolf, and she happened to mention that Wolf was not in a situation where he could afford a divorce. It’s my understanding Mrs. Langdon is the source of much of Wolf’s wealth. Her family is extremely well-off. He isn’t.”

  “Do you think she might be responsible for Dany’s death?”

  “Nuh-uh. She was having lunch with a friend when Dany was killed. About a dozen guests and waitstaff can attest to that.”

  “Too bad. She would have been the perfect killer.”

  “Looks like we’re up,” said Chase, gesturing to the window where now the light had finally been extinguished.

  “Finally. I thought they’d never go to bed.”

  They got out of the car and moved stealthily towards the manor, hunched over and staying in the shadows. There was a full moon out, so they’d have to be careful not to be seen.

  They arrived at the back of the house and quickly snuck inside. Odelia hoped her cats had already had a chance to talk to Wolf’s Chihuahua. If not, no harm done. They would get the necessary information some other way.

  “There’s one thing I don’t get,” she whispered as they snuck up a rickety staircase, and she flicked at what she hoped was a cobweb and not a hairy rat or other animal.

  “What’s that?” Chase whispered back.

  “Can’t you cops access phone records and stuff like that?”

  “We can, but it takes time. And besides, it’s a lot more fun sneaking around with you!”

  She grinned. “You know what? This is actually the first time you’ve joined me in this part of an investigation.”

  “True,” he said. “And look how much fun we’re having!”

  Until then, Odelia had joined Chase for his police interviews from time to time, but he’d never joined her on her more improvised investigative outings. One technique she hadn’t introduced him to was the part played by her cats. Maybe she’d never tell him about that. He might not take it well.

  They’d arrived on the second landing and were now sneaking towards Wolf’s room. She just hoped no one got it into their mind to open a door and bump into them. And just as she was thinking it, a door to their right opened and Don Stryker walked out and bumped straight into them!

  He stared at her, his hair mussed up and sleep wrinkles all over his face.

  Both Odelia and Chase stood frozen at the spot. Now they were in a real jam!

  “Mom?” Don finally muttered. “Is that you?”

  And then Odelia smelled it: the guy was totally baked!

  “Yes, it’s me,” she said. “Now go back to sleep… Donny.”

  “Okay, Mom.” He touched a finger to her cheek. “You look so young.” He smiled a weak smile, blinked slowly, then staggered back into his room, closing the door behind him.

  “See?” said Chase. “Weed is good!”

  “Yeah, right,” she said, and then they were hurrying towards the last door on the left. To her elation, it was ajar. And just as they entered, two cats came trotting out. Max and Dooley.

  Max said, “The phone is on the nightstand,” and she gave him a wink before he and Dooley disappeared down the hallway.

  She briefly wondered what had happened to Harriet and Brutus, then shrugged off the thought and followed Chase into Wolf’s bedroom.

  Chapter 23

  “I told you I’m not talking to that dog and I’m not talking to that dog!” Harriet was saying. In fact she’d rather be anywhere but there, but duty had called and Harriet wasn’t one to shirk her duties. Once on the scene, though, she’d had one of her typical change of hearts. The prospect of sitting in a crowded room and chatting with some obnoxious odoriferous canine was too much for her, and she decided to turn back and go and sit in the car. Odelia would understand, she knew. She would give her a cuddle and that would be it.

  Today had already been a day of high emotion and the dog thing simply was too much! No dogs! Not on top of everything else that had happened!

  Brutus, of course, didn’t understand. That was a dude for you.

  “But we have to talk to the dog!” he said. “We promised!”

  “No, Brutus. I’m not doing it. If you want to talk to the dog, go right ahead and do it. But I’m not going anywhere near that smelly mutt.”

  “Oh, you don’t know if he’s smelly. Maybe he smells like a rose. I’ve met dogs that smelled to lavender, expensive French perfume, even licorice! Humans are crazy that way.”

  She knew humans were crazy. She’d lived with them long enough. But not as crazy as Brutus, for throwing away the love they shared for a chance to sniff some skank’s butt.

  “I want to be alone now, Brutus,” she said as dignified as she could.

  But of course he wouldn’t listen. “I’m telling you, it’s a matter of perspective. My nose was nowhere near Darlene’s butt. It only looked that way from where you were standing.”

  “You were there. Darlene was there. Enough said. Now please leave me alone.”

  “I know it was a mistake for me to follow her there. I admit that,” he said, tapping his chest. “But the moment I realized my mistake, I told her! Or at least I was going to tell her.”

  “You were going to tell her with your nose buried up her butt? Nice try, Brutus. I’m not buying it. Now go away.”

  “It’s a matter of perspective!”

  “Oh, buzz off, buster,” she said, and stalked off. This time, at least he had the decency not to follow her.

  She hadn’t lied. She did want to be alone. She’d been with Brutus for so long now it was hard to imagine her life without him. She truly loved the butch cat, from
the moment he’d come into her life, all bluster and big talk. She’d seen right through that, of course. She’d known instinctively that underneath all that bluster lurked a tender soul and a good heart.

  She also knew that he probably realized he’d made a mistake by following Darlene into that clearing—or had she followed him? It was hard to say, and she wasn’t going to take either Darlene or Brutus’s word for it. They were both lying through their teeth, both for different reasons. But she found it hard to forgive him. If a tomcat strays once, he’ll stray again. It’s just the way they’re built. Max, she knew, would never stray once he gave his heart to a cat. And nor would Dooley. Until now she’d believed Brutus wouldn’t either.

  That’s why the whole thing with Darlene had shocked her to the core. And now she didn’t know what to believe. All she knew was that she didn’t want to see Brutus. At least not for a while. Until she decided how to proceed.

  Brutus walked off, and kicked a rock as he did. This was probably the worst day of his life. Or at least up there among them. It reminded him of the day Chase’s mother had decided to hand him off to her son. Chase’s mom hadn’t been well, and decided she couldn’t be trusted to take care of her cat. Besides, she was moving in with her sister, who wasn’t allowed to keep pets in her rent-controlled Bronx apartment. So on to Chase he went, and then lady luck had come through for him and he’d found a new home. Even better than before: a home with great humans, and three great cats who he now considered family.

  It had been tough in the beginning, though. He and Max had clashed frequently. He’d had the mistaken belief at the time that only one cat could rule the home and he’d decided that he was that cat. Now he realized there didn’t have to be one cat in charge. They were all in charge. Max had opened his eyes to that, as had Dooley. And Harriet, of course.

  Brutus had never known love before. Now he did. And then he’d gone and lost it.

  He was such a moron, wasn’t he? And he was just kicking another rock when suddenly the ground opened up underneath him and he was falling. Fully expecting to fall into some abyss or ravine, he let out a squeal. Suddenly his fall was broken by a soft object.