Ник Сайнт: Purrfect Crime

“Yeah, but I’m a cat. I’m naturally clean. Dogs are just filthy.”

He had a point, of course. Dogs are filthy, and cats are naturally clean.

“So now what?” I asked. “Our only potential witnesses are two dumb-ass dogs.”

“With the emphasis on ass,” said Dooley as he watched Rex and Rollo turn their attention from their private parts to a different, even filthier part of their canine anatomy.

“Let’s just hope Brutus and Harriet have better luck,” I said.

Just then, Brutus and Harriet emerged from inside the house. They were still gabbing away, probably discussing Bradley Cooper’s face and why it was off limits to cats. Rex and Rollo paused from their hygienic pursuit to gawk at the two newcomers.

“Uh-oh,” said Dooley. “Here we go.”

Within seconds, Brutus and Harriet had joined us underneath the car, scared off by those two idiot poodles, who were now sniffing around in the vicinity of the boxwood hedge.

“So? What did you find out?” I asked.

“That Bradley Cooper is the only human who looks good with a beard,” Brutus said morosely.

“Well, he does!” Harriet cried. “That man makes a beard look totally sexy.”

“Because it hides his big mouth!”

“It does not!”

Brutus, Dooley and I shared an agonized groan. “What about the murder?” I asked.

“What about it?” asked Harriet.

“Did you talk to anyone inside? Did Donna Bruce have other pets besides Beavis and Butt-head over there?”

Dooley snickered. “You said butt.”

“For your information, that place is filled with cops,” said Harriet. “So even if there were any pets around, the cops probably scared them off.”

Now it was my turn to place my chin on my front paws. This investigation was not exactly going the way I’d hoped. “So nothing?” I asked.

Harriet remained conspicuously silent.

“At least now we know that Bradley Cooper looks great with a beard,” Dooley offered. “That’s something, right? Right, Max?”

“Oh, Dooley,” I muttered.

Chapter 5

Inside the house, Odelia and Chase sat down with Hillary Davies, who was the CEO of donna.vip. Hillary, a fortysomething woman with short blond hair streaked with gray and a square face, knitted her brows. “I still can’t believe Donna’s dead. That’s just not like her.”

Odelia would have said it wasn’t like anyone to be dead, but she thought she understood. Donna Bruce had apparently been one of those extremely dynamic women, possessing a very strong personality and an iron will to succeed. People like that often seemed indestructible.

She handed the CEO a cup of chamomile tea. Hillary took it gratefully, the cup shaking between her fingers as she put it to her lips.

“How long have you known Donna Bruce?” Odelia asked.

“I started to work for her five years ago, so that’s when our relationship began, though I was a customer way before that. Donna.vip was already an established brand by that time, and Donna felt that in order to expand, she needed to professionalize and hire a CEO. And that’s where I came in.”

“Was she tough to work for?” asked Odelia.

Hillary smiled. “She wasn’t easy to work for, that’s for sure. She was demanding and outspoken. And she definitely didn’t keep her opinions to herself. But she was also generous and eager to give credit where credit was due. She lived for the brand, so if you improved the brand, she considered you a friend.”

“And did you? Improve the brand?” asked Chase.

“Yes, I think I did,” said the woman, tilting her chin. “I took it from twenty million annual gross to two hundred, and I like to believe I played a big part in that expansion. And judging from the bonus Donna paid me last Christmas, I think she knew it too.”

“Did she have any enemies?” Odelia asked.

“Oh, more than I can count on the fingers of my two hands,” said Hillary. “A strong and visible woman like Donna Bruce will always rub a lot of people the wrong way and she was no exception.”

“Can you think of anyone who could have killed her?” asked Chase.

Hillary thought for a moment, touching her lips with her fingers. “Well, there was her ex-husband, of course.”

“Tad Rip,” Chase read from his notes.

“That’s right. He didn’t like it when Donna got sole custody of Sweetums and Honeychild. And he certainly didn’t like it when she called him a drug addict, a drunk and a serial philanderer. Claimed it ruined his reputation.”

“What does he do, this ex-husband?” asked Odelia.

“He’s one of those Silicon Valley tycoons,” said Hillary. “You know the type. Multi-millionaire before the age of twelve and an ego bigger than the state of Alaska. The man was a buffoon, plain and simple, and spent more time bedding his secretaries than trying to make his marriage work.” She leaned forward. “In my opinion the only reason he married Donna was so he could leverage her success to his advantage. A trophy wife on steroids. But Donna wasn’t having it and he paid the price.”

“So you think he might have murdered the mother of his own children?” asked Odelia, surprised.

Hillary pressed her lips together. “You didn’t hear it from me, but the man is a sociopath. Which I guess is a quality that comes in handy when you’re trying to make it to the top of the heap in Silicon Valley.”

Chase smiled. “Sounds to me like you’re not a big fan of Mr. Rip.”

“No, I’m not. The man tried to damage our business, claiming donna.vip was just a silly little whim. Around the time of the divorce there was a hostile takeover attempt I’m sure was instigated by Mr. Rip. Luckily with the help of a few private backers we managed to get it overturned. It’s clear to me Donna’s ex tried to destroy her company out of sheer spite.”

“And now he’s destroyed its owner and founder,” Odelia said softly.

“As I said, you didn’t hear it from me. I’m still the CEO, and it’s a tough world out there. I don’t need this to come back to me.”

“What do you think will happen to the company now that Donna is gone?” Chase asked.

“I have no idea. I just hope she made the necessary arrangements. Many of these business tycoons don’t, thinking they’re immortal. And then when they die the whole thing is taken over by a bunch of bumbling relatives and run into the ground within a year. I hope she didn’t make that mistake.”

They left Hillary to take an urgent business call, and ambled into the kitchen, where the housekeeper, Jackie Laboeuf, was busy preparing breakfast. The sturdily-built woman with the raven-black hair looked up when they entered.

“Hi, Mrs. Laboeuf,” said Chase, producing his badge. “My name is Chase Kingsley and I’m the detective in charge of this case. This is Odelia Poole, civilian consultant to the Hampton Cove Police Department. Can we ask you a few questions?”

The woman sniffed, dabbing a handkerchief the size of a dish towel to her eyes. “Ask away, Detective. The sooner you catch the monster that did this the better. How anyone could hurt Mrs. B is beyond me. The woman was a saint.”

“You were the one who found her?”

“Yes, I’m sorry to say that I was. I come in every morning around eight, to take care of breakfast and organize the household, and usually when I arrive Mrs. B is waiting for me and we sit down to discuss any ongoing things and plan out the rest of the day. But this morning as I let myself in with my key there was no one here. And when I went looking for her, I…” Her voice faltered and she brought the dish towel to her eyes again, then proceeded to loudly blow her nose in it. “I’m sorry. This has all come as a big shock to me.”