Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Advice. Purrfect Passion. A Purrfect Gnomeful

“Nothing special. Jasmine thinks that Allison is the guilty party, but that’s probably because Allison refuses to buy Jasmine gourmet food. She feels that Jasmine doesn’t always behave, and Kirk told her he should give her plain cat food until she does.”

“So that’s the story,” said Odelia with a smile. “I figured it was something like that.”

“This is so fascinating,” said Scarlett. “The way you guys can actually talk to your cats. There’s so much information there.”

“Yeah, lots and lots,” Gran agreed.

“There must be other venues we can pursue,” said Odelia, leaning back as she thought for a moment. She stared at Harriet and Brutus, who’d made themselves comfortable on her desk.

“Don’t look at me,” said Harriet. “I haven’t got a clue what to do.”

“Me neither,” Brutus chimed in.

“Well, I give up,” said Odelia, throwing up her arms. “We talked to the entire staff, Allison and Mia, the ex-wife, the business partner. I mean, who else is there?”

“Maybe we can sleep on it,” Scarlett suggested. “The best ideas usually come to me when I’m sleeping,” she added when both Gran and Odelia gave her curious glances. “And then of course there’s that other thing we still need to do, Vesta.”

“Oh, that’s right,” said Gran.

“What other thing?” asked Odelia.

“Oh, nothing,” said Gran. “Just something Scarlett and I are cooking up.”

Odelia cocked an inquisitive eyebrow. “You and Scarlett? I thought you two hated each other.”

“Hate is a strong word,” said Gran.

“Yeah, much too strong,” Scarlett agreed.

And then the two ladies were off, leaving Odelia like a general without troops and without ideas.

“You should talk to Max,” Harriet now suggested. “He usually has a lot of bright ideas.”

“She’s right,” Brutus agreed. “Max is the smart one. Ask him what he thinks.”

Odelia thunked her head against her desk. What a great detective she was, if the only way she ever solved a crime was by asking her cats.

Chapter 26

Charlene Butterwick was sitting in her office working late. Even though Hampton Cove was a small town, its mayor never stinted for work. She was now looking at a proposal from a consortium of investors to turn a plot of farmland into a golf course, and wondered if she shouldn’t turn it into a housing development or park instead. Tough choice.

She got up from behind her desk and walked over to the window. She let her long blond tresses glide through her fingers and swept them away from her brow and over her shoulders, then adjusted her glasses and surveyed her domain. Across from town square, where the statue of one of the town’s previous mayors stood erect and forbidding, she could see the police station, and as usual, she couldn’t help but smile.

She could look straight into the office of Hampton Cove’s chief of police, and suddenly, on a whim, she picked up her phone and called his number. As she stood in front of the window, she saw the Chief pick up his phone from his desk and answer her.

“Chief Lip,” she said by way of greeting.

“Madam Mayor,” was his instant response, and she could almost see the smile sliding up his face.

“I just wanted to ask about the case,” she said, after a moment’s pause. “Um, the Kirk Weaver case? People have been asking about that.”

“Oh, right. Well, Chase is handling that one, along with my niece.”

“And your mother and her friend. I know,” she said with a slight grin. No other town would ever allow civilians to insert themselves into a murder inquiry, but things were different in Hampton Cove, and since the Chief always got his guy, or gal, she didn’t mind.

“Yeah, well, my mother likes to stick her nose where it doesn’t belong. If you want me to call her off, I’ll gladly do so.”

“No, no, that’s all right. So what’s the verdict?”

“Nothing yet. My niece just called me. They’ve interviewed every possible suspect and so far nothing. And Chase checked out the alibi of Kirk’s business partner and it checks out, so he’s off the hook, too.”

“And no other suspects so far?”

“None. But don’t you worry, Madam Mayor. We’re on the case, and we’ll nail the bastard.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Charlene, Chief?”

“And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Alec, Madam Mayor?”

“All right. Why don’t we cross over at the same time… Alec?”

“Good idea… Charlene.” They were both silent for a beat, then Alec cleared his throat. “Um, I have to get back to work, Charlene. But I’ll keep you posted on the investigation.”

“Thanks, Alec.”

They both rang off, and Charlene stared out at the form of the Chief seated behind his desk for a moment, then returned to her own desk. She wondered now if Gabi had already answered her question, and surfed to the Gazette website, and then to the advice section. And with a cry of joy she saw that her question was featured at the top of the page.

‘Dear Gabi. My first husband died a couple of years ago, and I’ve been a widow ever since, with no intention of letting another man into my heart. But lately I’ve felt a distinct flutter in my heart each time I encounter a certain colleague of mine. And I have the impression he likes me, too. Do you think I should encourage these feelings? Or will this only lead to awkwardness in the workplace? Signed, Timid Heart.’

With bated breath, the mayor read on, for Gabi’s much-anticipated response.

‘Dear Timid Heart. I think you should leave well enough alone. After all, you don’t want to thwart the man’s ambitions by making him your husband. Have you considered maybe he wants to be mayor himself and not your arm candy? So be smart and back off.’

Charlene jerked back, a little shocked. How had Gabi guessed that she was the mayor? She’d sent in the message anonymously, through the website contact form.

She glanced around, as if anticipating the entire town of Hampton Cove to look at her as if she was some kind of floozie, intent on snagging their chief of police as arm candy.

And as she shook her head, she vowed that this was the first and last time she ever asked Gabi a question. And as she bit her lip, she suddenly wondered if Alec read the advice column. She hoped he didn’t, and wouldn’t read her question, or Gabi’s response.

The moment Alec hung up the phone, he brought his computer back to life by tapping the space bar. Someone had asked Gabi a question, and her answer had been as strange and inappropriate as the one answering his own question.

He read the question again. Something about a woman wanting to date her colleague but being afraid of the consequences if it didn’t work out.

It was exactly the kind of question he’d asked himself, but in regard to Charlene. He liked her, he had to admit, but didn’t think she liked him back. And Gabi’s weird responses weren’t exactly helpful. If he didn’t know any better he would have thought it was his own mother writing Gabi’s letters. Which was impossible, of course. Dan Goory would never allow Vesta to take over the advice column, and in the process rub the entire population of Hampton Cove the wrong way.

Or would he?

Chapter 27

“We have to do something, Max,” said Dooley.

“I know,” I said.

“This can’t go on.”

“I know.”

“If this keeps up there will be droppings in Odelia’s bed next.”

“I know.”

“On her pillow.”

“I know!”

We both sat staring at the top step to the basement, where now a neat row of droppings had been placed, one next to the other, like little soldiers on parade. There were a dozen of them, all in all, perfectly shaped and lined up with Teutonic precision.