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

“You ruined us! You did that, Opal! That’s on your head!”

“Show’s over, people,” said Opal, clapping her hands. “Back to work, all of you.”

“What was that all about?” asked Dooley.

“I guess Opal did a piece on that woman’s farm and she didn’t like it.”

“No, I guess she didn’t.”

“Do you think she could be a suspect?”

“She could be. She certainly seems angry enough.”

I could see that Odelia had the same idea, for she was already hurrying after the woman and the burly security guards escorting her out.

“Hey, wait up!” Odelia yelled, as she jogged after them.

“A woman in Opal’s position probably has a lot of enemies,” I mused.

“She does? But she seems so nice.”

“Nice people can make enemies, too. Opal wields a lot of power. Every person she ever interviewed who didn’t like the outcome of the interview could potentially be a threat. So how do we know who’s the one?”

“I don’t think she has enemies, Max. Opal loves cats. Cat people don’t have enemies.”

I wasn’t listening. Instead I was following my own train of thought. “I’m sure Opal’s security people have a list of all the people who ever threatened her,” I said. “Let’s tell Odelia to talk to them. It might be a wild goose chase but we have to start somewhere.”

“Why would Odelia chase wild geese?” asked Dooley, but I was already off in search of Odelia. We finally found her in the lobby of the studio building, where she was seated in a corner, talking to the shouting woman. Security people stood nearby, keeping an eye out for trouble, in case the woman tried to accost Opal again.

“It all happened last year,” said the woman, who looked a lot more sedate. She sat with shoulders slumped, and was close to tears now. “Opal’s people visited our farm in North Dakota. We’re the only farm that provides raw milk to its clients. A fully automated production line that cost us a fortune. High-quality milk that’s very popular. People travel miles for our milk. We pride ourselves on our product, and we’ve been very successful, too. Until Opal did a number on us. We thought it was going to be a puff piece. You know, plug our farm and the health benefits of raw milk. Instead, it turned out she’d sent a spy to film what went on behind the scenes. Before we knew it, we were being accused of mistreating our animals. She even had our milk tested and claimed it was full of harmful bacteria. Which is impossible, as our milk is tested all the time, and nothing harmful has ever been found. Thousands of happy customers could have told her that.”

“But she did manage to film your animals being mistreated?” asked Odelia.

“Well, yes, but that was one sick cow that was on the floor, waiting for the vet to arrive. They secretly filmed it just as it was in a terrible state—it had tripped and fallen and broken a leg. So while we were waiting for the vet to come, Opal’s spy filmed it, and later claimed all of our cows were suffering the same fate. He basically accused us of being animal abusers, which is insulting and untrue. On the contrary. We love our animals, and treat them with attention and care.” She shook her head. “It’s so unfair.”

“But why didn’t you take her to court?”

“After the item aired all of our clients canceled their contracts, from one day to the next. We lost all of our business overnight, and since we work with very narrow margins as it is, it put us out of business. We’re up to our eyeballs in debt, and we don’t have the money to sue anyone. We had to sell our animals and close down the farm, and all because Opal decided that a bit about animal abuse would attract more viewers than a bit about an innovative way of animal husbandry and the benefits of raw milk.”

Gran had also joined them, and now took a seat next to Jacqueline. “You know, I can’t blame you for trying to take revenge,” she now said, handing the woman a tissue.

“Revenge? What are you talking about?”

“You know, wanting to get even. If I were in your shoes I’d do the same.”

Jacqueline frowned at Gran. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“You’re not going to let her get away with it, are you? You’re going to make her pay, right?”

Jacqueline Jackson abruptly got up, then searched around for a moment. “Where are the cameras? I know you’re filming this. You’re trying to entrap me, aren’t you? Trying to make me say things on camera and then use the footage to make me look bad again.”

“No, I can assure you…” Odelia began.

“I know how you people operate. Everything for the ratings. Well, I’m done being used by you.” And with these words, she stalked to the exit and walked out.

Odelia gave her grandmother a reproachful look. “Now look what you’ve done.”

“What I’ve done? What you’ve done, you mean. You should have confronted her. Instead you just sat there and listened to her waffling on and on about her farm.”

“You practically accused her of trying to kill Opal!”

“Well, she is the perfect candidate, isn’t she? And I wasn’t lying. If I were in her shoes I’d have done the exact same thing. Though I wouldn’t have used cyanide. Too crude.”

“Oh, Gran. You’re a terrible detective.”

“ I’m a terrible detective? You’re a terrible detective. I’ve only been here one day and already I’ve identified about a dozen possible suspects. In fact I’m starting to think this whole town might have it in for Opal. Maybe the question we should be asking ourselves is this: who here doesn’t want to kill her?”

“I thought Gran was Opal’s biggest fan?” Dooley said.

“I think she might not be her fan anymore,” I said.

Oh, how fickle fame and fandom can be.

Chapter 12

“Shouldn’t you be paying attention?”

Chase muttered something, as he continued reading Odelia’s text. “Odelia has already identified several suspects,” he said.

“Good for her, but we’re not here to solve Odelia’s case for her,” said the Chief. “We’re here to learn about policing communities in the twenty-first century.”

Chase put his phone away again. So far the conference was a bust. The person giving the keynote speech didn’t just look like Rambo, he also was a big proponent of the Rambo method of community policing: go in hard. Let people know who’s in charge.

“You need to show your citizens who’s boss!” he was saying now, as he walked across the stage, clicking his little clicker device to show the next slide in his Powerpoint presentation. On the big screen behind him heavily-armed cops were seen pounding on people with big heavy clubs, and showcasing the kind of weaponry more commonly found on the battlefields of the Middle East. “You need to teach them to show respect!”

“I’m not bringing that kind of weaponry into my town,” the Chief grumbled. Grenade launchers and automatic weapons were proudly hoisted up by cops armed to the teeth, behind them a vehicle that looked exactly like a tank.

“Imagine driving that thing around Hampton Cove. People would have my hide.”

“The mayor will have your hide if you don’t drive that thing around Hampton Cove,” Chase reminded him.

The mayor was a big proponent of the militarization of the police department. He’d already told the Chief he was freeing up a budget to buy old army gear they could repurpose. The army, since it was pulling out of several battlefields in different parts of the globe, had combat gear for sale at rock-bottom prices, and police departments across the country were a primary market for that kind of stuff, eagerly snapping it all up.

“I don’t want it,” said the Chief stubbornly. “I’m not prepared to turn my police department into the military and my town into a battle zone. I’m a cop, not Rambo.”