Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Secret

“Look, I don’t have all the details, all right?” the Chief was saying. “Just what you told me. As far as I know Dickerson had a ton of files in that safe of his. In fact he was famous for having dirt on pretty much everyone who was someone and he kept it in that safe.”

“The safe was empty,” said Odelia.

“Not completely empty,” said Chase. “There was one file and one picture.”

“Yeah, a picture of a rose,” said Odelia. “Ring any bells?”

“None,” said Chief Alec. “But maybe you can start by looking at the usual suspects.”

“Which are?” said Chase.

Alec frowned. “Um… Dickerson was rumored to be a close friend of the President but they’d recently fallen out over something. No idea what. You’d have to ask him.”

“The President as in the President?” asked Odelia.

“Yup. So if I were you I’d start there. And then there’s the professional aspect.”

“Like a mob hit,” said Odelia.

“Dickerson got in bad with Yasir Bellinowski.”

“The Russian mobster?” said Chase.

“Alleged,” said Alec. “At least that’s what I heard. So I would pay him a visit. Maybe there was something in that vault Bellinowski wanted so bad he was prepared to kill for it.”

“It does have mafia written all over it,” Odelia agreed. “With the duck poop and all.”

“You need to follow up about that theft at the Potbelly farm. Whoever stole that tractor and that tanker is your guy. Catch him, and catch the person who ordered the hit.”

“Good luck!” Tracy said, moving into view again and giving them a wave.

“Thanks,” said Odelia. “We’ll need it.”

“Oh, no, you won’t. You guys are the best damn sleuths I’ve ever had,” said Chief Alec with a grin. “And the fact that I only have to pay one of you makes it even better.”

“Ha ha,” said Chase. “Very funny.”

“Take good care of my uncle for me, Tracy,” said Odelia. “He’s the only one I’ve got.”

“Oh, I’ll take very good care of him,” Tracy assured her. “In fact I already am.”

“She is,” said the Chief with a happy grin, his face rotund and his cheeks flushed.

“I don’t think I want to know,” said Odelia with a laugh.

And on the image of the Chief and Tracy kissing, the connection cut out.

“They look happy,” said Chase.

“They look more than happy,” said Odelia. “They look like they’re in love.”

Chase had placed an arm around her waist. “You mean they look like us?”

“Something like that.”

He kissed her deeply, and she almost dropped her phone, which he took as a good sign. Looked like he still had it. But then he wrenched his mind back to the investigation. They were holed up in the police station, where they’d decided to consult with the Chief and get his input. Now, though, they needed to follow up on his instructions and go and talk to the President. Gulp.

“Do you think the President will even talk to us?” asked Odelia, whose mind had landed on the same topic.

“I hope so. He was a close friend of Dickerson’s.”

“Until they fell out over something.”

“We need to find out what that something was.”

“Yes, we do.”

They were seated side by side at the Chief’s desk, so close together they were cheek to jowl. And since he was in the vicinity, Chase closed his lips on hers and for the next five minutes or so Dick Dickerson, the President and any possible mob connections between the tabloid mogul and this Yasir Bellinowski were the farthest thing from his mind.

But then a knock at the door surprised them and when the door swung open and Dolores appeared, they both looked up with flushed cheeks and a guilty grin on their faces.

“All right,” said the policewoman with an eyeroll. “Guess I can come back later.”

And then she walked out and bought them another ten minutes or so, which was all they needed.

Chapter 14

“I’ve never met the President,” said Odelia as Chase steered the car through town.

“Me neither,” he intimated.

“I mean, any president. Not this one or any of his predecessors.”

He smiled and gave her a sideways glance. “You look excited.”

“Damn right I’m excited. We’re about to meet the frickin’ President!”

“You look hot when you’re excited.”

She blushed. It wasn’t the idea of seeing the President that made her feel all hot and bothered, but what she and Chase had done on top of Uncle Alec’s desk. Good thing he’d never know. Unless Dolores told him. Which she probably would. And everyone else in that precinct. Shoot.

“So what did he say?” she asked.

“You mean what did his Secret Service detail say?”

“Uh-huh.”

“They don’t like the idea.”

“He’s not a suspect. Did you tell them he’s not a suspect?”

“They don’t like the idea of the President being interviewed by cops, period—suspect or no suspect. They don’t like the story the media might spin this into.”

“He’s a friend of Dickerson’s. He was in town when the guy was murdered. We have to talk to him.”

“They know that. That doesn’t mean they have to like it.”

“Besides, it’s not as if the President can just go and steal a tanker full of duck poop from a duck farm, back it up to his friend’s house and kill him. The Secret Service would have noticed if he was traipsing around duck farms in the middle of the night.”

“I think we established that whoever is behind this hired a couple of pros.”

“Even so. The President probably can’t even order a Big Mac or chicken nuggets without everybody knowing about it and blabbing about it.”

“Yeah, I don’t think we’re seriously considering the possibility that President Wilcox killed his buddy the media mogul,” said Chase. “But we have to start somewhere.”

And so they did. “I like this mobster for the murder. And the picture of the rose left at the crime scene? Probably has some kind of mobster meaning. Like the dead horse in The Godfather . I mean, maybe the mob moved on from horses to pictures of horses. Or roses.”

“Sure,” said Chase with a grin.

“Did they find any fingerprints on that picture?”

“None. Nothing on that vault door, either, or anywhere else, for that matter. Like I said, these guys are pros. They wouldn’t make a rookie mistake like that.”

“Seems elaborate,” said Odelia, still thinking this through. “They could have just shot him. Why go to all the trouble of the duck poop thing? That just seems like… overkill.”

“Why aren’t your cats along for the ride?” suddenly Chase asked.

“Mh?”

“Your cats. They usually tag along on these things. Like a good-luck charm?”

Yeah, why hadn’t she brought Max and the others along? For some reason the thought hadn’t occurred to her. Probably because Max seemed upset about Milo and the others eating his food. She’d just figured he wanted to be left alone. People thought cats were simply animals, with animal reflexes and driven by animal instincts. But they were smart creatures—a lot smarter than most humans gave them credit for. And they were also very sensitive, and when they were going through the kind of adaptation Max was going through with Milo, maybe it was better just to leave them alone to deal with it in peace.

“I’ll bring them along next time,” she said.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” said Chase. “I don’t think the Secret Service would like it if we arrived with a bunch of cats in tow. They’d probably think they were Russian spies.”

They finally arrived at Lago-a-Oceano, President Van Wilcox’s expansive mansion. It was an impressive, sprawling structure, with several buildings apart from the main house, servants’ quarters, an old hunter’s lodge, and spreading grounds. It had a private beach where Van Wilcox was rumored to enjoy going for a swim, as did the First Lady Rima Wilcox, who hailed from Georgia and liked the privacy the mansion afforded her and her husband.