Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Heat

“Thanks,” he said, then caught Brutus’s scowl. “What?”

“Nothing,” said Brutus. “Just that I thought you’d back me up on the Diego thing.”

Max rolled his eyes. “Oh, God. Enough with the Diego thing already.”

She left the two cats and went in search of Chase. They needed to check up on this Tesla sighting. She hadn’t told Chase cats had seen the black Tesla parked behind Fry Me for an Oyster , and neither would she tell Riding. It was enough that an anonymous witness had seen the car. She needn’t involve Max.

She stuck her head into her uncle’s office. “The black Tesla has been sighted. And guess what? It belongs to Ziv Riding.”

“Sweatshop Ziv Riding?” Chase asked.

“Yep. One and the same.”

“Well, go on, then,” said the Chief. “Go ask him what he was doing here the night of the murder.”

They didn’t need her uncle’s encouragement. She and Chase were hotfooting it out of the police station and hurrying along the street before Chief Alec had managed to get up from his seat.

“So who saw the car?” Chase asked.

“I did, actually,” she said after a moment’s pause.

“I thought you said the Tesla had been sighted?”

“Yeah, by me. It was sighted by me.”

He gave her a curious look. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

She flapped her hands a bit. “I was so excited I couldn’t think straight!”

“Right,” he said, and she had the impression he didn’t believe one word she said. But she couldn’t worry about that now. They needed to figure out what the fashion designer had been doing that night at the restaurant.

“Are you sure it’s the same car that was parked in the alley that night?”

“Not a hundred percent sure, no,” she admitted.

“I mean, there must be hundreds of Teslas, thousands, even. And a lot of them are black.”

“I guess so,” she said.

“So what makes you think it was Riding’s car?”

She paused for a moment. “Actually…”

He gave her a wry look and halted, right in front of the General Store. “What’s going on, Odelia? Why are you going about half-cocked?”

She flapped her arms again, looking more like a chicken than a reporter. “I have a hunch, all right?”

“A hunch,” he said skeptically. He’d crossed his arms over his chest and stood regarding her with his head to one side, as if wondering what to do with her.

“A hunch! I have a hunch that this Tesla is that Tesla!”

“You never told me who the witness was that saw the Tesla that night.”

“I—I can’t. I—I promised I wouldn’t reveal her name.”

“If you’ll just let me talk to her I might get a confirmation on the license plate.”

She shook her head decidedly. “She didn’t see the license plate.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” She wondered what would happen if she told Chase Max had heard it from Montserrat, the stray Erin Coka had taken under her wing, who’d heard it from some other stray. He’d probably have her 5150ed.

“So let me get this straight,” he said. “Someone—who doesn’t want to be named—told you she saw a black Tesla parked outside the restaurant the night Niklaus Skad was killed. No license plate. Now you see another black Tesla, driven by Ziv Riding, parked along the street, and you want to talk to the man, why, exactly?”

“Don’t you think it’s too much of a coincidence? Ziv Riding has this sweatshop in town, and his car was seen at a murder scene?”

“We don’t even know if Riding and Skad knew each other. And may I remind you that we caught Skad’s killer? He’s in custody right now. The case is closed, Odelia.”

“But what about the sweatshop thing?”

“Not our concern! We’re not handling that investigation and we’re not going to get involved, either.”

She shook her head, stubbornly. “I still feel—”

“It’s not about what you ‘feel,’” he said. “It’s about the facts.” He raked his fingers through his mane. “Oh, God. And I almost went along with this nonsense. Me and your uncle.” He held up his hands. “Look, you’re on your own with this. Please don’t involve me. And may I add that I have a strong suspicion you’re not telling me everything you know?”

They stared at each other, and then she said. “I know Riding’s Tesla was parked at the restaurant. And I’m going to find out what’s going on. With or without you.”

“Well, it’s going to be without me, honey,” he said, stepping back. “Like I said, you’re on your own from here on out.”

And without another word, he turned around and started walking back to the police station.

Nice, she thought. Nicely played, Odelia. So now what?

Chapter 27

Brutus and I walked out of the police station and back to the alley, where presumably Dooley still sat watching—and having his youthful innocence thoroughly screwed up.

“Odelia should have backed us up,” Brutus said. “She should have had our backs.”

“Odelia has our backs,” I said. “All of our backs, Diego included.”

“But how is that even possible?! Diego isn’t even part of our family.”

“He is to her. The moment that cat set foot inside her home, he became family.”

“It’s just not fair.”

“You don’t get it, do you? Odelia doesn’t play favorites. She doesn’t love one of us more than the others. And she’s right about Harriet. She’s smarter than you give her credit for. Have you ever considered Harriet has Diego’s number?”

“She can’t have his number. She doesn’t even know he’s out here.”

“Let’s just wait and see,” I said. “First things first, though. We have to get Dooley out of there. Diego is a bad influence on him.”

We arrived at the alley. To my surprise there was no trace of Dooley.

“Where did he go?” I muttered, looking around.

“And where did Diego go?” asked Brutus. There were dumpsters parked along the alley, butting up to the bricked-up back walls of the stores that lined the parallel street. We headed deeper into the alley, half expecting to find Gran and Leo cavorting around somewhere. What we found were Dooley and Diego, however, seated behind a dumpster and deep in conversation.

“So that’s the secret, dude,” Diego was saying. “You just snag ‘em, bag ‘em and then throw ‘em back.”

“But won’t they resent you for it?” Dooley asked.

“What do you care? There’s plenty of cats in the sea. When you’re finished with one, you just start tagging another one.”

Dooley laughed. “Tag ‘em, snag ‘em and bag ‘em. That rhymes!”

“It sure does,” said Diego with a smirk. “I’m glad you’re catching on, dude.”

“Let me just stop you right there,” I said, stepping from behind the dumpster.

“Max!” Dooley cried. “Diego’s been teaching me all about his technique for bagging queens! Isn’t that great?!”

I winced. “Not so great. Queens aren’t a commodity to be tagged, snagged and bagged, Dooley. They’re our fellow creatures and they deserve our respect.”

“What a load of nonsense,” said Diego. “Don’t listen to him, Dooley. You just do what I taught you, and you’ll have the females eating out of the palm of your paw for the rest of your life. Just like they do with me. They’ll just swoon!”

“Well, I certainly would like females to swoon,” Dooley said.

“Just think about Harriet,” I said. “And how Diego has been treating her.”

“Hey, I treated Harriet just fine,” said Diego. He grinned. “Just ask her. She said she’s never been with a cat that made her feel the way I did.”

“That’s a lie!” Brutus yelled.

Diego held up his paw. “Straight from the cat’s mouth, brother.”