Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Sidekick. Purrfect Deseit. Purrfect Ruse [calibre 5.14.0]

“We’re actually here because of our investigation, Buster,” said Dooley, who clearly felt we’d spent enough time chit-chatting and needed to get down to business. “A snail asked us to look into the death of his human’s boyfriend, and we were hoping you could tell us some more.”

To his credit, Buster neither burst out laughing nor gave us a look of abject disgust. The only thing he said was, “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t help you. The only chatter I’ve picked up these last couple of days has revolved around this Lord Hilbourne character and his visit to Hampton Cove. It seems everyone and their grandmother can’t stop speculating about the man, though truth be told the grandmothers are mainly wondering if he’s single and if he’d be interested in dating their granddaughters.”

“Is Lord Hilbourne still single?” I asked, for it was something I’d been wondering myself, to be honest. Okay, all right. I may be a first-rate sleuth, but I’m not above spreading some lowly gossip and neither is Dooley.

“Uh-oh,” said Dooley. “Odelia has just gone to meet the guy, and she specifically told us not to come.” A look of concern had come into his mild hazel eyes. “That can only mean one thing, you guys.”

“What?” asked Buster, having that breathless air about him that your true spreader and receiver of gossip often gets.

“That not only is Lord Hilbourne still single, but that our Odelia is susceptible to the man’s charms.”

“Nonsense,” I said immediately. “Odelia would never, ever cheat on Chase.”

“Not even with an English lord?” asked Buster. “I don’t know, Max, but Fido has been busier than ever this week, and practically all of his clients have been women wanting to look their best for the big ceremony at Town Hall this afternoon. Secretly they all seem to hope they’ll be able to snag the man’s attention and that before long he’ll whisk them away with him to his ancestral castle to live the life of the lady of the manor.”

“Not Odelia,” I insisted. “She loves Chase. They’re getting married on Saturday!”

“She wouldn’t be the first woman who’s suffering from those pre-wedding jitters and whose eye is turned by a handsome young royal,” Buster pointed out.

“First off, Odelia is not suffering from pre-wedding jitters,” I said. “And secondly, Lord Hilbourne is not a royal. Or is he?”

“I bet he’s the Queen’s cousin,” said Buster. “Twenty-first in line to the throne or something, which are odds good enough to make quite a few of our local ladies spend a fortune on a new hairdo and a new dress.”

“And Odelia is suffering from pre-wedding jitters, Max,” said Dooley. “Or why else has she been kicking us both off the bed lately?”

“That’s true,” I admitted. “She is nervous, but that’s normal. Odelia hates all the fuss that is involved with her upcoming wedding. She told me so herself. She’d much rather have a small wedding—just her nearest and dearest. Not this big production her wedding has turned into.”

“Is it true that the Mayor is going to give a speech?” asked Buster eagerly.

“I guess so,” I said. “She is the bride’s uncle’s girlfriend, after all.”

“Poor Odelia,” said Buster. “Looks like she wants to get married, but doesn’t want to go through the ordeal of having to stand in front of the entire town and say ‘I do.’”

“She’ll be fine,” I said. “Chase will get her through it. And so will her mom and dad and Gran.”

“Buster, do you think that there’s a natural order to the universe, with some species that are higher and others that are lower?” asked Dooley now.

“Of course not,” said Buster. “It’s like Fido always tells me: there’s people with hair and people with no hair, and lucky for him there’s more of the former than the latter.”

Chapter 13

Odelia had just entered the Star hotel when her attention was drawn to two familiar figures seated in the lobby, talking animatedly and with wide gestures of the limbs. She smiled and walked over.

“Hey, Gran,” she said. “Scarlett. What are you doing here?”

The question was moot, of course. When not spending time at her dad’s doctor’s office, Gran liked to sit in the outside dining room of the Star with Scarlett. Watching the world go by and doing some intense people-watching. It was all part of the activities of the neighborhood watch the two friends were a part of. In fact as far as Odelia could ascertain the watch was pretty much an excuse for these two elderly ladies to stick their noses where they didn’t belong, and spend their time prying into other people’s affairs. At one time there had been four members of the watch, but ever since they’d kicked out the male members for lack of cooperation only Gran and her friend remained.

“What are you doing here?” Gran countered immediately, then a keen look came over her. “You’re going to interview that English lord, aren’t you? Say, mind if we tag along?”

“Tag along? Why?”

“There’s something we need to find out.”

“Lord Whatshisname is suspected of hiding a girl of ill repute in his suite,” Scarlett explained. “And the hotel staff would like to know what he’s planning to do with her before hotel management finds out.”

“Oh, dear,” said Odelia. “I don’t know. Lord Hilbourne’s rider specifically stated I had to come alone for the interview. No pets and no—”

“We’re not pets, though, are we, honey?” said Scarlett. “Look, I promise we’ll be very discreet.”

“Discreet is our middle name,” Gran agreed.

Odelia’s grandmother and her friend were anything but discreet. Then again, if this Lord Hilbourne really was hiding a girl in his suite, she didn’t see the harm in bringing two members of the neighborhood watch along with her to make inquiries. “Look, just make sure you don’t do anything to get me kicked out,” she said, finally relenting.

“We’ll be quiet as church mice,” said Gran.

“Quieter even,” Scarlett said, judging from the look on her face well pleased, which was the exact same look a cat wore after he’d spotted a mouse. Well, any cat except Odelia’s own cats, which were too kind-hearted to bother with catching mice. They’d rather make friends with the critters. Or with snails, apparently.

“Let’s go,” she said. “I don’t want to be late. He only gave me twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes! How are you going to conduct an entire interview in twenty minutes?” asked Gran as they hurried through the hotel lobby, their feet sinking into the plush carpet, and proceeding in the direction of the elevator.

“Plenty,” said Odelia, who was a seasoned reporter and could extract a front-page article out of twenty minutes’ worth of conversation. As the elevator rode up, she asked, “Have you found out anything new about the Potato Guy?”

“Potato Guy,” said Scarlett with a laugh. “Is that what you’re going to call him in your newspaper?”

“Not exactly,” said Odelia with a smile. “His real name is Bob Rector, and according to Max and Dooley he was recently kidnapped. His girlfriend paid seventy-five thousand dollars in ransom money for his safe release, but all she got back was his body, shot through the chest and dumped in a potato truck.”

“That’s more than we knew,” said Gran, cutting a quick look of surprise to her co-watch member.

“Yeah, I had no idea he’d been kidnapped,” said Scarlett. “Who’s the girlfriend?”

“Evelina Pytel.”

Gran whistled through her teeth. “The queen of party supplies. I know Evelina. Seventy-five thousand is chump change for her. And you say she paid and they still shot the boyfriend?”