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

“Yeah,” said Gran. “I managed to smuggle the cats into Laron and Shannon’s room, and Dooley found the letter lying under Jamie’s bed. She must have realized she dropped the letter cause she came back to look for it, but by that time Dooley had already snatched it between his teeth. She then chased poor Dooley all across the room, until we happened to arrive and saved him and the incriminating letter in the nick of time.”

“Good job, Ma,” said Uncle Alec in a rare compliment, and gave his mother a peck on the cheek.

The old lady looked pleased as punch. “I think this might hamper my chances for that duet with Charlie, though,” she said. “I doubt he’ll want to work with the woman who put his girlfriend in jail.”

“Yeah, Laron already told me in no uncertain terms what he felt about your latest stunt,” said Uncle Alec.

“He did, did he? Well, did you tell him his protégée is a killer?”

“I told him we arrested Jamie and he said he’d get the best damn lawyer in the country and I’d be sorry and you would be, too.”

“Yikes. I’m quaking in my boots,” said Gran with a grin.

“Do you guys want a lift home?” Odelia asked her cats.

“No, I think we’ll stick around for a bit,” said Max.

“You did great,” she said, and squeezed Dooley’s cheeks. He giggled.

“I think my career will be over, too,” said Harriet a little ruefully. “Laron will never engage one of the cats that got Jamie sent to prison.”

“Oh, well, you had a good run,” said Brutus, looking very pleased all of a sudden.

A crowd of onlookers had gathered, and watched as Jamie was placed in the back of a squad car and driven off. Several people stood pointing up at the hotel, holding their smartphones to take pictures. And when Odelia looked up she saw Laron Weskit standing in front of his hotel room window, accompanied by Shannon and Charlie. They didn’t look happy, and moved away from the window, not wanting to be filmed.

“Dark days,” said Odelia as Chase joined her. “At least for the Weskits.”

“And Charlie,” said Chase. “He just watched his girlfriend being arrested for murder.”

“Do you think she did it?”

“Don’t you?” he deflected.

“I don’t know. That letter doesn’t prove anything, does it? I mean, so Chickie wrote a letter, promising revenge for stealing her boyfriend. I’m sure that’s just the language of a woman scorned. And I doubt Jamie would kill Chickie just because of that threat.”

“Yes, but why did she try so hard to make that letter disappear?”

“But she didn’t, did she? According to Dooley the letter was just lying there, under the bed. It’s only when Gran started asking questions that she decided the letter wasn’t fit for public consumption and should stay private.”

“Let’s see what she says. I’m sure your uncle will be able to get the truth out of her.”

“I guess.”

“And at the very least she deserves to be punished for treating your cats the way she did. She was just about to give Max a beating with a hairbrush.”

Odelia raised an eyebrow. “She was?”

“Yeah, that’s what your grandmother says, and Jamie is not denying it.”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe she does deserve to be punished.”

If there was one thing Odelia hated above all else, it was people who tormented animals. As far as she was concerned, the punishment couldn’t be big enough.

Chapter 31

“What’s going on?” asked Kingman when we joined him.

“Oh, just that Dooley managed to catch a killer,” I said.

Kingman stared from me to Dooley. “Dooley caught a killer? How did that happen?”

“I found an inseminating piece of evidence,” said Dooley happily.

“Not inseminating, incriminating,” Harriet corrected him.

“Very incriminating,” I said. “A letter Chickie Hay wrote Jamie Borowiak, threatening revenge for stealing her boyfriend Charlie Dieber.”

“And that letter proves that she killed her?” asked Kingman.

“It does. Convulsively,” said Dooley, still beaming.

“Conclusively,” I said.

“Well, congratulations, Dooley,” said Kingman. “You must feel like a real star now.”

“A star detective,” said Dooley with a smile.

“I’m just glad this investigation is over,” said Brutus. “I feel very tired all of a sudden.”

“It’s these celebrities,” said Harriet. “They’re very tiring.”

She seemed a little downcast now that her big career was over even before it began.

“So what’s going to happen now?” asked Kingman.

“Now Uncle Alec is going to interrogate Jamie and then once she confesses she’s going to appear before the judge and then she’ll go to prison,” said Dooley, the expert.

“No, I mean what’s going to happen with you? Are you going to have to testify in court? Usually the people who find important evidence, especially of the incriminating kind, have to testify in court, in front of a judge and a jury of their peers.”

“A jury of our peers would be a jury of cats,” Harriet pointed out. “I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.”

“No, I don’t think Dooley will have to testify in court,” I agreed. “Cats rarely testify in court.”

“Rarely? You mean never,” said Harriet. “It’s not fair but there you are. We never get to testify in court, and we never get to go to court against anyone, either.”

“Who would you like to take to court, Harriet?” asked Kingman, an amused expression on his face.

“Where do I start? I wouldn’t mind taking Shanille to court, for instance. She told me last week that I can’t sing solos anymore. Which I thought was extremely unfair.”

“Why can’t you sing solos anymore?” asked Dooley, interested in Harriet’s latest drama.

“She feels that the whole idea of singing solos is anti-democratic. It breeds jealousy and discord in cat choir and she can’t have that. So from now on no more solos.”

Which was probably the reason Harriet was so keen on starting her career as a singer on stage. To get back at Shanille. Show her once and for all what a terrific soloist she really was.

“I doubt whether a jury would convict Shanille for that,” said Kingman. “Denying a choir singer their solo is not a punishable offense, as far as I know.”

“Well, it should be,” Harriet insisted. “It’s caused me great emotional distress and I’m entitled compensation. Not to mention she’s reduced my earning capacity. A talent scout who just happened to be watching our rehearsals would have signed me up in a heartbeat. But if no one is allowed to sing a solo, no scouts will come to our rehearsals.”

“Do you really think talent scouts come to our rehearsals?” I asked.

“Of course! How else are they going to scout fresh new talent like me?”

Kingman, who’d been smiling at this quaint conceit, wiped the smile from his face when he caught Harriet’s icy glare. It never ends well when you laugh at something she says. Harriet hates to be made a fool of, a chink in her armor we’re all well aware of.

“So are you going to do any more performing?” asked Kingman now.

“I doubt it,” said Harriet sadly. “Laron fired Gran, and I guess that means the end of my career, too.”

“Too bad,” muttered Brutus, though he looked like the cat that got the cream.

“Maybe I’ll have a word with Shanille,” said Kingman. “Ask her to reconsider this whole solo policy. I’ll tell her that every great choir embraces the solo as part of its repertoire, and if she simply promises every member of cat choir that they are entitled to perform their own solo at some point, it shouldn’t breed any jealousy or envy.”