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

“We’re launching Hampton Cove’s first-ever neighborhood watch,” Scarlett explained, glancing around a little uneasily. She hadn’t set foot inside a church in ages, and as Hampton Cove’s number one Jezebel now wondered if the gates of hell would suddenly open up underneath her feet and swallow her whole. She disliked sulfur, or white-hot flames licking at her feet. Just to be on the safe side, therefore, she stayed close to Father Reilly. Satan would think twice before swallowing him up whole, wouldn’t he?

“A neighborhood watch, eh?” said the priest, thoughtfully stroking his chin.

“Yeah, and we want you on our team,” said Vesta, wasting no time coming to the point. “You’d be an incredible asset,” she added when the priest frowned in confusion.

“I’m not sure that would be wise,” he said now, indicating he was going to prove a tough sell.

“And why is that?” asked Vesta, her face taking on its most mulish expression.

“Well, for one thing I’m a man of God, and men of God don’t usually involve themselves in local politics.”

“This got nothing to do with politics, Francis,” said Vesta. “This is your duty as a citizen. Don’t you want our streets to be safe for all to walk on, even in the middle of the night? Don’t you want our kids to sleep peacefully in their beds, safe in the knowledge that no child snatcher is crawling through the window ready to snatch to their heart’s content? And don’t you want the proud homeowner to relax, knowing no one is going to spray graffiti on his picket fence, or burgle his safe or even steal his Lab or schnauzer?”

“Well, of course I want the members of my little flock to be safe,” said the priest. “Who doesn’t? But that’s why we have a police force, Vesta. A most capable police force consisting of brave and dedicated police officers, always ready to give of their best for the good of the community. Why only this morning Chief Alec was in here to talk to me about the disappearance of my gnomes.”

Scarlett frowned at this. “Did you say gnomes?”

“Gnomes, yes. Several of my most precious garden gnomes seem to have gone missing overnight. It is a mystery most baffling. A crime most heinous. And Chief Alec said he’d make it his top priority to find out who absconded with my precious treasures.”

Vesta and Scarlett shared a look of concern. “You’re not the only one whose gnomes have gone missing, Francis,” said Vesta. “It happened to my son-in-law, too. No less than twelve of his gnomes have been taken from his backyard under cover of darkness.”

“Sounds to me like a gang,” said Scarlett, studying the granite church floor for signs of hell fire licking at her ankles. “An international gang of gnome thieves,” she specified.

“Now, see, this is exactly the kind of thing our neighborhood watch is going to take care of,” Vesta said with a note of triumph in her voice. She suddenly reminded Scarlett of Zig Ziglar or Brian Tracy or one of those other super-super-salesmen.

“I’m sure your son has the situation well in hand,” said the priest, waving a dismissive hand.

“Ha!” said Vesta, in a scoffing manner.

“Ha!” Scarlett echoed, equally scoffing.

“If you think Alec is going to spend one minute of his time looking for your precious gnomes you’re sorely mistaken,” said Vesta.

“Not a single minute,” Scarlett emphasized. Out of habit she’d been lightly jiggling her décolletage, before realizing this probably wasn’t the right way to make a priest do one’s bidding, so she stopped jiggling.

“I just happen to know Alec is knee-deep in a murder case right now,” said Vesta. “So your gnomes are the furthest thing from his mind.”

“A murder case!” Father Reilly exclaimed, and quickly genuflected, causing Vesta, too, to mimic the gesture and even Scarlett to follow suit, though with some reluctance.

“Yeah, some blond babe got whacked by Dan Goory,” said Vesta.

“Not Dan Goory!” Father Reilly cried.

“Yes, Dan Goory,” said Vesta with a measure of relish. “So you see, no one is looking for your gnomes, Francis. We gotta take matters into our own hands if we want justice to prevail.”

“Well, if you put it that way,” said Father Reilly thoughtfully.

“I am putting it that way. And what’s more—it stands to reason that if your gnomes were snatched, and Tex’s gnomes were snatched, there’s bound to be more victims. In fact it wouldn’t surprise me if all the gnomes of Hampton Cove are in mortal danger.”

“An international gang,” Scarlett repeated.

“So do you want your gnomes back or not?” asked Vesta. “Cause if you don’t, that’s fine by me. I’ll bet whoever took them is probably melting them down as we speak. They did the same thing with Kim Kardashian’s jewelry when she was robbed in Paris that time.”

Scarlett wasn’t sure if gnomes could be melted down, but it sounded good. “Yeah, they’re probably lighting a fire at your poor gnomes’ feet right now,” she said, nodding.

A distinct look of anguish came over the priest’s face, and he clutched at his white hair. “Oh, no! My poor, poor gnomes,” he whimpered.

It surprised Scarlett that a grown man could be so attached to a bunch of ugly little men made of plaster and painted in the most hideous colors, but what did she know?

“So are you with us?” asked Vesta, holding out her hand.

After a moment of hesitation, the priest stuck out his hand and shook Vesta’s, then Scarlett’s. Scarlett, once again out of habit, bent over slightly to offer the man a closer look at her cleavage before remembering where she was, at which point she straightened and gave the man a cheerful grin. Father Reilly, looking a little dizzy now, and out of sorts, blinked a few times, then murmured, “Excellent. Yes, quite excellent.”

Chapter 14

That evening, dinner at the Pooles was a big affair. The Poole family was there, of course, but also Uncle Alec and his girlfriend Charlene Butterwick, who was Hampton Cove’s mayor, and even Vesta’s dear friend Scarlett.

Dooley and I sat at the sidelines, as did Harriet and Brutus. In fact the four of us were ensconced on the porch, while the humans were all seated around the large garden table Marge had set for the occasion.

The weather was excellent, and so was the mood.

This may surprise you, as the day hadn’t been without its moments of tragedy. Uncle Alec had suffered defeat when he’d been forced to let Dan Goory walk free, unable to pin the murder of Heather Gallop on him with a sufficient degree of finality. Tex was still sulking after the shocking discovery that his neighbor Ted Trapper had been the one behind the terrible theft of his gnomes. And Odelia and Chase were still nowhere in their investigation of the murder of that same Heather Gallop.

As far as I was concerned, I wasn’t feeling all that happy either, as the matter of the mouse invasion still weighed heavily on my mind, and I still hadn’t seen my way toward a solution satisfactory for all.

“I talked to Rufus today,” Harriet said, tackling the topic as if reading my mind. “And he promised he’d come over tonight to talk to the mice.”

“Rufus?” I asked, much surprised by this denouement. “Why Rufus?”

“Because we have all failed in our mouse diplomacy,” said Harriet. “And I was thinking that maybe a giant dog like Rufus could succeed to talk some sense into Hector and Helga.”

It was definitely an idea worth exploring, I had to admit.

“Are mice afraid of dogs?” asked Dooley.

“I’m not sure,” I said. “But it’s worth finding out. He is a great deal bigger and potentially more threatening than the four of us, even when working in tandem.”