Ник Сайнт - Purrfectly Hidden. Purrfect Kill. Purrfect Boy Toy

“Well, trust me, Mom,” said Odelia as she patted her mother’s arm. “I don’t have any plans to go into show business, so there’s that. And I’m sure Gran’s ambitions will be as short-lived as most of her endeavors. I give it a month—tops.”

“Speak of the devil,” Chase muttered through half-closed lips.

Gran had just walked in, looking as sprightly and vivacious as ever. “Odelia!” she cried as she made a beeline for her granddaughter. “You’re up. Good. Look, I need you to be honest with me. Do you think I’ve got what it takes to be the next Beyoncé?”

“Um… I don’t know, Gran,” said Odelia, treading carefully.

‘Maybe you can sing something for us?” Chase suggested. “How about Single Ladies ?”

Gran eyed Chase strangely. “Single ladies? You don’t have to rub it in, young man. It’s true I’m a single lady right now but it’s not very nice of you to point that out. Very rude.”

“No, that’s the name of the song,” said Chase. “ Single Ladies .”

“Never heard of it,” said Gran, still giving Chase a nasty look.

“Okay. So how about Crazy in Love ?”

“I’m not, but thanks for the suggestion. I’ll sing Beyoncé’s biggest hit, shall I?” She took a deep breath, then placed her hands on her chest and closed her eyes. “ Some boys kiss me, some boys hug me, I think they’re oka-ay,” she bleated in a croaky voice .

“Gran?” said Odelia, interrupting the songbird. “That’s Madonna, not Beyoncé.”

“Shut up and let me sing. Cause we’re li-ving in a mate-rial world…”

It sounded a little awful, I thought, and judging from the frozen looks on the faces of all those present I wasn’t alone in my assessment. Finally, Gran finished the song and opened her arms in anticipation of the roaring applause she clearly felt she deserved. When the applause didn’t come, she eyed us with annoyance.

“Well? What do you think?” she snapped.

“Um… not bad,” said Odelia. “Not bad at all. But you know that’s not Beyoncé, right?”

“’Of course it’s Beyoncé. One of the woman’s greatest hits. So how about you, Marge? What do you reckon? Knocked it out of the park, huh? Hit a home run?”

“Um….” said Marge, darting anxious glances at her daughter.

“Blown away,” said Gran with a nod of satisfaction. “That’s what I was going for. Chase?”

“Loved it,” Chase lied smoothly. “Best Beyoncé imitation I’ve ever heard.”

“Perhaps you should put a little more pep in your show, though,” said Marge.

“Oh, you’ll get all the pep you need. I’ve asked Beyoncé’s choreographer to work with me and he graciously accepted. In fact we’re starting rehearsals today.”

“Beyoncé’s choreographer is going to work with you?” asked Odelia.

“Sure. You all know him. My ex-boyfriend Dick Bernstein. He’s worked with Beyoncé for years. Choreographed all of her big shows, here and overseas. I asked him and he immediately said yes. It’s gonna be a smash, you guys. And now if you’ll excuse me—I gotta get ready before Dick arrives. Oh, and Marge? Can you tell Tex I’m not coming in today? My career takes precedence over that silly receptionist business. Toodle-oo!”

And with these words she was off, leaving us all stunned.

Except for Dooley, who was still wondering, “So who’s Beyoncé?”

Chapter 2

Odelia was just about to walk into her office, after dutifully informing her father that Gran wouldn’t be coming in today because she needed to launch her career, when a loud honking sound waylaid her. She looked up and saw that her uncle was trying to catch her attention.

Walking over to his squad car, she greeted him with a smile and a chipper, “Hey, Uncle Alec. I was just about to call you about the council’s new fuel emission rules.”

But Alec looked grim. He tapped the side of the door. “Get in, Odelia.”

“Why? What happened?”

“You better sit down for this.”

With a puzzled frown, she got in and slammed the door closed. “What’s going on?”

“Do you know this lady?” he asked, gesturing to the radio, where a song of Chickie Hay was playing.

“Sure. Who doesn’t? She’s only one of the most famous pop stars of the last decade.”

“Well, now she’s one of the most famous dead pop stars of the last decade,” he said with a set look.

Odelia did a double take. “Chickie Hay died?”

“This morning. Her housekeeper found her. Strangled.”

“Strangled!”

Uncle Alec nodded, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “I called Chase and he’s going to meet us there. I want you on this one, Odelia, cause I have a feeling it’s not going to be one of our easiest cases. And since she is what you just said she is, there’s going to be a lot of scrutiny and a lot of pressure, you understand?”

Odelia nodded, still stunned by the terrible news. “Strangled,” she repeated softly.

“Yeah, what a shame, right? I actually liked her music.”

He stomped on the accelerator and the car peeled away from the curb. Soon they were zooming along the road. Odelia picked out her phone and decided to call her editor first. She had a feeling he wouldn’t mind if she didn’t show up for work, as long as she landed him the big scoop on who the murderer of Chickie Hay could possibly be.

“Maybe pick up your cats?” Uncle Alec suggested. “It’s all paws on deck for this one.”

She nodded as she waited for her call to connect.

Moments later she was back at the house, and she hopped out. “Yeah, hey, Dan. There’s been a murder. Yeah, Chickie Hay. I’m heading over there now with my uncle.” She opened the front door and yelled, “Max, Dooley, Harriet, Brutus! Got a job for you!”

As expected, Dan was over the moon, not exactly the kind of response a feeling fan or loving relative would like to see, but understandable from one who sells papers for a living.

Four cats came tripping into the hallway, all looking up at her expectantly. She crouched down. “There’s been a murder,” she said, without preamble, “and I need your help. Are you up for it?” They all nodded staunchly, and she smiled, doling out pets for her four pets. “Come on, then,” she said. “Uncle Alec is taking us over there now.”

Four cats hopped into the back of the pickup, and then they were mobile again, en route to Chickie Hay’s no doubt humble abode.

The house was located in Hampton Cove itself, and not near the beach as most of these celebrity homes usually were. It wasn’t a manor either, but a house that sat hidden behind a fence atop a modest hill. The only thing indicating this was no ordinary home was the gate you had to pass through. Uncle Alec pressed the intercom with a pudgy finger and held up his badge. The gate swung open and Odelia saw that the drive angled steeply up. Moments later they were surrounded by a perfectly manicured garden, and soon the car crested the hill and the house appeared. It was a large structure, painted a pastel pink and looking modern and cozy at the same time. Chase stood waiting for them, leaning against his pickup, and pushed himself off the hood when he saw them.

“Bad business,” he said, giving Alec a clap on the shoulder and Odelia a quick kiss.

The four cats exited the car, then disappeared from view to do what they did best: interviewing pet witnesses and scoping out the place from their own, unique angle.

“Where is she?” asked Uncle Alec.

“Upstairs,” said Chase, gesturing with his head to a large plate-glass window right over their heads. “She was rehearsing for her upcoming tour when it happened.”

“No one saw anything?”