Ник Сайнт: Purrfect Peril

“Why Alec?” asked Harriet. “That makes no sense to me whatsoever.”

“It doesn’t. It only makes sense to a mind as warped as Philippe’s. He must have seen Uncle Alec and Tracy Sting and figured she was grooming him as the next Fascinating Man.”

They all burst out laughing. All except Shadow. “Uncle Alec! Most Fascinating Man!” said Harriet. “You’re joking!”

“It may sound like a joke to us, but it’s not a joke to Philippe. Alec represents his competition, and he won’t stop until he’s dead. You guys,” I said urgently. “We have to stop him!”

“Stop who from doing what?” asked Dooley, still experiencing the effects of Vena’s treatment.

“Stop whom,” Shadow corrected helpfully.

“Huh?”

“Not huh. Whom.”

“Philippe,” I said, my head starting to swim a little. “Stop Philippe.”

“You all heard Max,” said Shadow cheerfully. “Let’s stop Philippe.”

“Stop what?” asked Dooley.

“And why?” added Harriet.

“And who?” said Brutus.

“Whom,” said Shadow. “Whommmmmm.”

Ugh. I’ll bet Hercule Poirot or Sherlock Holmes never had to deal with this crap.

Chapter 34

Odelia was dreaming of her grandmother joining her and Chase in the middle of the night and getting in bed between them, effectively erecting a physical barrier between the couple, peevishly telling them they needed to behave and stop all this annoying cuddling.

She awoke with a start and for a moment felt disoriented, the world a strange place.

She patted the space next to her. No Chase. She checked the foot of the bed. No cats.

Odd. Where was everyone? Then the events of the past few hours came back to her. Dooley in hospital. The attempt on her uncle’s life. The arrest of the Most Compelling Man. Max telling her something—whispering in her ear.

Had that been a dream? She could have sworn it was. Max was at Vena’s. With Dooley. Spending the night.

So how come she vividly remembered him telling her that they’d arrested the wrong man? That it was in fact Philippe Goldsmith who was the real culprit? The one who killed his grandfather and tried to kill Alec and put the blame on Curt Pigott?

The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. She wasn’t convinced, though. She needed more proof than the whispered words of a cat in the middle of the night. She was certain now she’d imagined Max. Dreamed him. Which meant that this was her subconscious at work—whispering in her sleep—warning her—wanting her to act now.

If Pigott was innocent, then whoever had tried to bomb Alec and Tracy was still out there—and could strike again at any moment. Which told her time was of the essence.

She rubbed her eyes, and checked her phone. Three o’clock. Probably too late to call her uncle and ask him about Pigott’s interrogation. But not too late to call Chase. So she did.

His sleepy voice told her he wasn’t at the police station interviewing Pigott.

“Is Granny bothering you again?” he asked. “Do you need saving?”

“Granny is probably sound asleep. I do need saving, though. From a hunch.”

“A hunch.”

“How did things go with Pigott?”

“Denies everything. Lawyered up.”

“Struck out, huh?”

“We’ll get him to confess. Lean on him a little harder tomorrow.”

She bit her lip. “I’m starting to think you can lean on him all you want, he’ll never break. Because he’s not the guy we want.”

“I know, babe. I’m the guy you want,” he said, a smile in his voice.

“And I’m thinking we need to look a little closer at Philippe.”

“Your granny’s grandson? The Most Perfect Boy in the World? What makes you think so?”

“A hunch.”

“Uh-oh. I know your hunches, Poole. They’re freakishly accurate.”

“Which is why I need you to do me a favor.”

“Of course. I’ll come over and brave Granny.”

She smiled. “Maybe later. First I want you to check something for me.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

Chapter 35

“And that’s why I think time is of the essence,” I concluded my long speech.

The members of cat choir all stared at me, and so did the members of the Most Interesting Cats in the World troupe. As usual, they’d been hanging out at the park, limbering up those vocal chords, and practicing their dance moves. So when we joined them, the last thing they expected was to be treated to the kind of explanation usually reserved for the final scenes of a Hallmark Movies & Mysteries Channel presentation.

“You can’t possibly expect us to believe you,” said Princess, the first one to speak.

“I do, actually,” I said.

“Max is right,” said Shadow. “Philippe killed my human, and now he is after his next scalp.”

“You’re biased,” said Princess. “I’m not listening to you.”

“Of course she’s biased,” I said. “Her human was blown up. And now your human is in prison facing a life sentence for a murder he didn’t commit. How can you sit there and pretend to be fine with that? If Curt Pigott goes to prison your cushy life is over, Princess. You’ll spend the rest of your days at the pound. Is that a chance you’re willing to take?”

Princess gulped at this. “The pound?” she asked, her voice suddenly squeaky.

“Where all cats go to die,” Dooley intoned gloomily.

“I don’t want to go to the pound,” Princess squealed, now only audible to dogs.

“You’re not going to the pound,” said the Most Iconic Cat in the World.

“There must be someone to take care of you when your human goes to jail,” said Fat Amy, the Sexiest Cat Alive. “Someone—anyone?” she added when Princess gave her a look of panic.

“There’s Leo, Curt’s nephew, but he’s a terror. Hates cats. Hates me!”

“Don’t worry, Princess,” said Beca, the Most Attractive Cat in the World. “I’m sure you can come and live with me. Bobbie will take you in.”

“No, he won’t!” cried Princess. “Bobbie hates Curt’s guts. They all hate Curt’s guts!”

“That’s true,” said Chloe, the Most Intriguing Cat in the World. “My human hates Curt. I heard him tell his mother that Curt going to prison is karma in action. And how he hopes to take over Curt’s position as Most Compelling Man in the World. He wants to snag Curt’s crown and become the Most Compelling Intriguing Man in the World. A real first.”

“And don’t think Philippe will stop here,” I told them. “When he’s done with Chief Alec he’ll come after your humans next. He won’t stop until they’re all dead or in jail. And then he’ll be the Most Fascinating, Compelling, Intriguing, Iconic, Attractive and Sexy Man in the World and all of you will be at the pound, wondering why you didn’t try to stop him.”

It was the kind of speech designed to rally the troops and stir them into action, and I could sense that I’d hit the right note this time. Cat choir, meanwhile, was still looking at me like a bunch of lookie-loos, unlikely to be of any help to us or our mission whatsoever.

“And you,” I said therefore, pointing at Shanille and company, “how many times has Chief Alec saved your hides? How many times has he called the fire department when you were stuck in a tree? How many times did he reprimand your human when they weren’t treating you right? He’s a good man, and now he needs us to save him for a change. So how about it? Are you with me?”

I would like to say that they reared up as one cat and yelled Yes! but unfortunately they did not. As I said before, cats are notoriously self-absorbed, and I’m afraid cat choir is no exception.

“What’s in it for us?!” a raggedy tabby cried from the balcony—or, rather, a tree.