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

“I know, Dooley, but she took it really hard.”

“Maybe she can go tomorrow?” he suggested.

“Tomorrow is my solo,” I pointed out.

“Yes, but you could let her take your place. She’d love that.”

I stared at him. “Take my place? But it’s my turn to shine, Dooley.”

“I know, but Harriet has been so sad lately. And you know you can’t really sing, Max.”

This was true. I’m probably cat choir’s worst singer. Still, if everyone can sing, I can sing, too. At least if Shanille was to be believed. Besides, Harriet had been more angry than sad. As far as I can tell Harriet doesn’t do sad. It hadn’t been fun for the rest of us. As I pointed out before, Harriet is a Persian, and when Persians get angry they don’t stint on the anger. I think she even peed in my water bowl. I mean, I couldn’t prove it, of course, but lately my water had had a distinctly weird taste and odor. Not fresh, I mean.

“Why don’t you give her your spot?” I said.

“But Max! I’ve been waiting for so long—and I’ve practiced so hard. I can’t let her take my spot. Besides, I can’t disappoint my fans—they’re all waiting to hear me sing.”

I rolled my eyes. Everyone can sing. And apparently everyone is a diva, too.

Meanwhile, Odelia had returned, Gran in tow. She was still talking into her phone, apparently trying to get her grandmother added to the guest list.

“Tell her I’m her biggest fan,” Gran was saying, and Odelia gestured for her to be quiet.

“I feel bad about this, Max,” Dooley intimated. “We’ve never turned down a case before.”

“I know. I feel bad about it, too.”

It had all begun last night. We’d been ready to go to bed, Odelia upstairs brushing her teeth and Chase reading in bed, when Odelia’s phone had belted out its merry tune.

“Can you get that?!” Odelia shouted from the bathroom, her mouth full of toothpaste.

Chase had grabbed her phone from the nightstand and picked up.

It had been none other than Opal Harvey herself, the queen of daytime talk shows. She’d gotten Odelia’s information from her dear friend Marilyn Coyn, a talk show host in her own right, and Opal’s BFF, and told Chase she had a case for Odelia to take on.

By the time Odelia had hurriedly spat out her toothpaste and talked to the famous woman, her eyes were shining with anticipation, and even Chase sat up a little straighter.

It isn’t every day that celebrity royalty rings you up and tells you they need you and can you please drop everything and fly out to LA, all expenses paid, to take on a case.

Odelia had sputtered for a while, claiming she wasn’t qualified, that she was just a local reporter and not some famous detective, but Opal Harvey can be very convincing, and if that hadn’t sealed the deal, the paycheck she’d dangled in front of Odelia like a carrot to a donkey had certainly helped. The moment Opal got off the phone Odelia was jumping up and down, chanting, “We’re going to LA! We’re going to meet Opal Harvey!”

Chase had grinned like a little boy, as starstruck as Odelia. And I have to confess I wasn’t averse to meeting the famous woman myself, if only she hadn’t lived on the other coast, and meeting her involved stepping onto a plane. We’d flown to England not that long ago to meet real royalty, and even though the plane hadn’t crashed, that didn’t mean it couldn’t happen the next time. You have to respect the odds and I wasn’t taking any chances. We’d survived a plane ride once, I wasn’t willing to tempt fate by going again.

As luck would have it, though, Chase was flying to LA himself, and even though he was booked on a separate flight, and probably not first class, my mind was at ease: Chase would be there to assist Odelia, and from the looks of things, so would Grandma Muffin.

“And? What did she say?” asked Gran eagerly. As a big fan of daytime television—her love for soap operas is legendary—she was dying to meet the one and only Opal.

Odelia smiled. “Opal says it’s okay. You can come.”

“Yippie!” said Gran, and did a little jig in place. “I knew she’d agree!”

“Great,” I said. “That means we don’t have to go.”

“Oh, you’re going,” said Odelia.

“But, Odelia!”

“You’re going,” she said, “and you’re going,” she told Dooley, “and you’re going,” she said as Harriet walked in through the pet flap, “and you’re going,” she finished when Brutus entered on his mate’s heels.

“Going where?” asked Harriet.

“We’re going to LA, baby!” Gran cried.

Chapter 2

“Did you really have to take all of them?” Gran grumbled.

Odelia smiled. “It was your idea to bring all four of them along, remember?”

“I’m not talking about the cats. I’m talking about those losers over there,” said Gran, jerking her thumb in the direction of the rest of the company.

When Odelia talked to Opal on the phone, the talk show host had assured her she could bring whomever she wanted. She was sending her private jet to pick them up, and since it could hold at least a dozen, she could bring along any pets, grannies or other next of kin. As long as she made her way to LA pronto, since there was no time to waste.

Gran glared at Marge and Tex as they gave her a jolly little wave.

“I don’t get why they had to tag along,” she said, still grumbling. “What about Tex’s patients. What are they going to say?”

“The same could be said about you, Gran. You work at the doctor’s office, too.”

“They won’t miss me, but they sure as heck are going to miss Tex.”

Tex had called in his good friend Cary Horsfield, who worked as a doctor in Hampton Keys, and was his bandmate in The Singing Doctors, to take over for him while he engaged in this little trip out west.

“And what about Marge? She can’t just close up the library like that. People need their books. Reading is important.”

“The library isn’t closed, Gran. Marcie is taking over for a couple of days.”

Marcie Trapper was Marge’s neighbor, and didn’t mind helping out her friend.

“It’s not right,” Gran muttered. “Opal invited us , not them.” She directed an icy glare at Chase and Uncle Alec, who’d unanimously decided to ditch their official cattle class ride and hitch a ride on Opal’s multi-million-dollar jet. It was a no-brainer, as they could travel in luxury, accompanied by their nearest and dearest—though Gran obviously didn’t feel the same way about her son and Odelia’s boyfriend joining them.

“How about you?” asked Odelia. “You brought a plus-one.”

Next to Gran, a handsome young man sat, staring out the window and sipping from a milk carton. He was dressed in skinny jeans and a tight T-shirt that accentuated his ripped physique. His blond hair was ruffled and blue eyes dreamy.

“You haven’t even introduced us yet,” Odelia added. She reached across her grandmother and thrust out her hand. “Hi, my name is Odelia. I’m Vesta’s granddaughter.”

“Oh, hi,” said the young man, then shook Odelia’s hand and gave her a confused smile. “Did you say you’re Vesta’s… granddaughter?”

“That’s right. And that’s my mom and dad over there. And that man over there is Vesta’s son Alec—my uncle. And the guy next to him is Chase Kingsley. My boyfriend.”

“Oh, um…” He directed a hesitant look at Gran. “I thought you said you had no family, Vesta? That you were too young and wild to settle down?”

“You must have misheard,” she snapped. “I had my kids young. Very, very young.”

Which wasn’t necessarily true, but Odelia decided not to rock the boat.

“Okay,” said the young man, and put a straw to his lips to resume sucking from his milk carton.