Ник Сайнт: Purrfect Cut

“Isn’t it true that you simply wanted to turn back the clock and make Leonidas Flake all about haute couture again, with no prêt-à-porter collections and no collaborations with the Gap or even Walmart or Costco?” asked Gran.

“Of course I wanted us out of Gap and Costco! Leo was diminishing the value of the brand by selling out. He had to be stopped before the name Leonidas Flake was mud, like so many other formerly great brands.”

“I think what happened was that your son was the genius designer, just like you say, and that he indeed didn’t have the head for business that you have, but he had a partner who had a feel for the market and who gave Leo the love and affection he needed to soar. And the two of them created magic. “

“Gabriel was the one who got the idea to sell out, if that’s what you mean,” said Leonora. “He’s the one who heralded in the downturn of the once-iconic Leonidas Flake name. It was obvious to me and my advisers that he had to go.”

“You got some bad advice, Leonora,” said Gran. “Your son’s business was flourishing, and Gabe was integral to that success. Instead of saving the company you killed the goose that laid the golden eggs. Just you wait and see.”

The corners of the woman’s lips turned down. “Are you accusing me of murder, Mrs. Muffin?”

“I’m accusing you of bad judgment. And of being a bad mother.”

Leonora’s eyes narrowed. “I want you off the premises. All of you.” She turned to Chase. “Unless you have a warrant, Detective Kingsley, I want you gone, and please take this raving lunatic with you.”

“I’ll show you a raving lunatic,” said Gran, and actually leaped at the woman! Just before she could land a punch, though, Chase intercepted her.

“Let’s go, Vesta,” said Chase, leading Gran away with a firm hand.

“She’s responsible for her son’s death!” said Gran. “I know she is!”

“I wasn’t even here when it happened!” the woman shouted. “Ask anyone!”

“She’s right,” said Chase. “She was at the Hampton Cove Star when her son died. Now let’s get out of here before you land us in a big ol’ heap of doo-doo.”

“What is she going to do?” scoffed Gran. “Call the cops?”

“She might, and I’d probably lose my badge. Now unless you have solid evidence linking her to the death of her son, I suggest we retreat and regroup.”

Gran uttered a low growl, but still complied. She shook herself free of Chase’s grasp and set foot for the car. “This isn’t over, Flake!” she shouted, shaking her fist in the direction of the old woman. “Mark my words!”

“Oh, go away, you crazy old bat,” said Leonora, and slammed the door.

Gran got into the car and drove off, kicking up a spray of dust and gravel as she did, and as Odelia and Chase followed her at a more leisurely pace, suddenly Odelia remembered Harriet and Brutus.

“Dang it,” she said.

“What’s wrong?” asked Chase, who was driving this time.

“Harriet and Brutus. We left them at the house.”

“They’ll find their way home,” said Chase.

And so they would, Odelia thought. And hopefully they’d find Max and Dooley and manage to snap them out of their ‘strike.’

Chapter 23

I was racing along, trying to find my way out of the maze that Leonidas had built, still persecuted by the sound of a cat in hot pursuit—I could hear his nails scrabbling as he raced along behind me—when suddenly I reached a dead end and almost slammed into a wall. And then the wall slammed into me, or at least that’s what it felt like when a solid object and I collided.

The solid object soon turned out not to be all that solid. It was a cat, and before I knew what was happening, I was putting up a fight with the furry fiend, knowing that it was Tank who’d taken a shortcut and who’d managed to intercept my progress. I knew I had to watch out for his claw going for my jugular, and it was only when Tank uttered a loud cry of distress that something registered in my brain and gave me pause.

That cry hadn’t sounded like Tank at all.

It had sounded more like Dooley’s bleats.

So I halted the proceedings and lo and behold: I was actually fighting my best friend and not, as I had supposed, my mortal enemy!

“Dooley!” I cried.

“Max!” he yelped. “I thought you were Tank!”

“I thought you were Tank!”

We fell into each other’s arms and before long were laughing at the strange coincidence of both of us thinking we were engaged in the fight of a lifetime against a formidable foe.

“I dropped down from up there,” he said, indicating the open vent that gaped overhead and then the grate that had buckled under his weight.

“I thought Tank was chasing me. So that was you?”

“And I thought Tank was chasing me!”

How funny it was, if only our situation hadn’t been so dire.

“We still need to get out of here,” I said. “Tank probably is chasing us.”

“Which way is the exit?” asked Dooley, glancing back nervously for a sign of the murderous Siamese.

We both searched around, and suddenly a growling sound came rumbling out of the darkness. There was no doubt this time that it was Tank, and he did not sound happy.

He suddenly stepped into the light, and his eyes glowed red and menacing, his teeth sharp and deadly. His tail was distended and his back was arched and he looked ready to move in for the kill!

“Frankly I’ve just about had it with this guy,” said Dooley, much to my surprise. And before I could stop him, he was charging in the direction of the fearful cat, screaming at the top of his lungs!

“Dooley, no!” I yelled, and then I was racing after my buddy, ready for any fate.

Tank, instead of putting up a fight, saw the two of us storming towards him, gulped a little, then let out a high squeal, and turned around and ran!

“Huh,” I said as we watched him streak off in the direction he came from.

“I guess he’s not as tough as he looks,” said Dooley, who seemed disappointed that he hadn’t been able to engage the horrible cat.

“That was very brave of you, Dooley,” I said as I placed my paw on his shoulder. “Probably the bravest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Sometimes you just have to stand up for yourself, you know.”

“You’re absolutely right.”

We both turned, intent on locating that elusive exit, when suddenly we found ourselves face to face with the biggest, meanest-looking rat I’d ever seen! It was baring its fangs, saliva dripping from the pointy snappers, and it looked about to move in for the kill!

Without a moment’s hesitation, Dooley and I turned around and fled the scene—running as fast as our legs could carry us! Before long, we’d reached the staircase, scrambled down at top speed, and kept on running, through the living room, streaked through a crack in the sliding door and out into the open. And as we ran, I thought for a moment I heard Gran’s voice. It must have been my imagination, though, for I knew she couldn’t possibly be there.

And as Dooley and I stood panting, he said, “So that’s why Tank turned and ran! He wasn’t afraid of us but of the big, nasty rat!”

“He must have dropped down from that vent—same as you,” I said, trying to catch my breath. I’m one of those cats that’s built for comfort, not speed, you see, and cardiovascular activity always has a deleterious effect on me.

“Did you hear Gran?” he asked.

“I did.”

“We must be hallucinating.”

“It’s because we were imprisoned. Prisoners often start hearing things.”

“Let’s go home,” said Dooley. “Odelia might not be the ideal human we thought she was, but she’s a damn sight better than the people that run this house—or the big, scary rats that infest the ventilation system!”