Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Revenge

Laurelle took a step toward her. “Give me the name or I’ll gut you right now. One slice is all it takes to spread your guts all over the floor so you can watch yourself bleed to death.”

“Sounds like fun,” Odelia said. “But I think I’ll pass.” She shook her head. “And here I thought you were the victim. You sure fooled me.”

“I am the victim. I’m the victim of Kenspeckle greed.”

“You made that tape, didn’t you?” asked Odelia. “That was your idea.”

“Of course it was my idea. I devised the whole plan. You don’t think I escaped that shit town of Armada, Illinois just to spend my life slaving away for the Kenspeckles, do you? I came to LA to become rich and famous, only this asshole here doesn’t want to share. So now I’ll make her pay. And I’ll make you pay,” she said, making a slashing gesture in Odelia’s direction.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice sounded from the door. Chase had appeared, and he was accompanied by the FBI agent in charge.

Laurelle stared at them, completely taken aback. “I… the terrorist was here, and… he attacked me and…”

“I don’t think so, Laurelle,” said Burr as he stepped from behind the curtain. He had his camera mounted on his shoulder and pointed at Laurelle.

The knife dropped from her hand and fell to the floor. “You filmed me?”

“Yep. Got it all on tape.” He tapped his camera proudly. “A real doozy.”

It was over, and she knew it. Chase stepped forward, and outfitted the fallen stylist with a nice set of shiny new handcuffs. Laurelle looked at Odelia. “Who was the witness? Who saw me that night? I need to know.”

Odelia shrugged. “There was no witness. I just made that up.”

The girl’s face contorted into an expression of rage. “I hate you. I hate all of you! And I hate you most of all, Camille Kenspeckle! I’ll get you for this!”

“Join the line,” said Camille with a satisfied smile. “Oh, God,” she said as she turned to Odelia. “I can’t thank you enough, honey. If not for you I’m pretty sure that monster would have murdered my entire family.”

“That seems to have been her plan all along,” said Odelia. “Only she wanted to take her time. Kill you one at a time and make you suffer as long as possible.” She glanced at the camera, which was pretty much in her face now. “Um, could you stop filming now?”

Camille grinned. “Why? You’re going to be next season’s biggest star.”

Two cats came darting in, and she picked them both up. “These are my stars,” she said. “My biggest stars.”

Pity she couldn’t tell the world they were the ones who caught Laurelle. Then again, sometimes real heroes went uncelebrated.

“Mom,” said Shayonne as she came darting in. “Is it true Laurelle is the killer?”

“Yes, it’s true,” said Camille.

“No way!” Shalonda cried, close on her sister’s heel. “Did you get her confession on tape?”

“Yes, we did.”

The two sisters exchanged high fives. “Best. Show. Ever!”

Odelia shook her head and walked out. Keeping up with the Kenspeckles was a tough proposition, but at least she hadn’t sustained permanent damage.

Epilogue

Dusk was falling and Dooley and I were seated on the swing Doctor Tex had installed on the back porch. Gran was sitting next to us, patiently waiting for dinner to start. Tex was whipping beef ribs onto the barbecue, joining the burger patties and sausages already sizzling on the grill. Uncle Alec was helping him by swigging back a Corona and being generous with his advice.

My stomach grumbled as the delicious scent caressed my nostrils. We’d already been fed a few slivers of raw sausage, and now we were waiting for the barbecue feast to start, cooked up by the barbecue maestro himself.

Even though Tex warned against artery-clogging red meat on a daily basis to his patients, when he wasn’t on duty he liked to treat himself to some choice artery-clogging beef ribs himself. He argued that if God didn’t want us to have barbecue, he shouldn’t have made it taste and smell so darn good.

Chase and Odelia were seated at the white plastic table Marge had placed in the garden. They were deeply engrossed in conversation, probably clearing up the last few details about the murder case. Marge was busy in the kitchen, doing something with potato salad, and putting the finishing touches on the chocolate cake she was baking. Brutus and Harriet were snuggling at Odelia's feet. They'd canceled their romantic evening for dinner with the fam.

Movement suddenly caught my eye, and when I glanced over I saw that Clarice was sneaking through Odelia’s garden. She disappeared into the house. Odelia had decided that in celebration of the fact that Clarice had provided the telling clue to catch the killer, she would adopt her. Only Clarice wasn’t in favor of being adopted. She preferred to roam wild and free. As a compromise, she had accepted that she could always get food and shelter at Odelia’s if she wanted to. She now even had a big bowl with her name on it—literally. That was actually my idea. I didn’t want Clarice stealing my food.

You might say us cats have a problem with sharing. You might be right.

I saw Clarice stalk out of the house again. Our eyes locked, and she gave me an almost imperceptible nod before skulking off, licking her whiskers.

I turned a lazy eye back to the garden, and I was struck by an outrageous sight. Chase was leaning into Odelia, and planting a kiss on her lips. And she wasn’t even fighting him! Of course, after being forced to watch Shalonda and Boa in the pool, no display of carnal love had the power to shock me anymore. Still, this wasn’t something I’d ever expected to see in my lifetime.

“Max?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Odelia and Chase are kissing.”

“I know, Dooley.”

“I mean, they’re actually kissing!”

“I know! I have eyes. I can see.”

“Um. And it looks like it’s a real kiss. Like, with tongue and all?”

“Yep, that’s a real kiss all right,” said Gran. She sighed wistfully. “Boy, that brings back a few memories.” She looked happy. “I knew this was gonna happen. I just knew it. And not a minute too soon either.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“If she’s going to provide me with a brace of great-grandchildren she needs to get a move on. I can’t wait around forever, you know.”

“What do you mean you won’t wait around forever?” asked Dooley.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not getting any younger, boys, and neither are you. If we want to hear the pitter-patter of little feet, it’s now or never.”

Dooley and I stared at each other, aghast. Pitter patter of little feet? “You mean… babies?” Dooley cried, his voice rising an octave in sheer horror.

“What do you think I mean? The pitter patter of mice? Of course babies.”

“But, but, but… I don’t want babies!” Dooley squeaked.

“Yeah, if Odelia has babies, what’s gonna happen to us?” I asked, a sense of panic settling in my stomach and even driving away my nice pre-barbecue buzz. I knew what happened when babies were born: it was in with the new, and out with the old. In this case, Dooley and Harriet and me.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you,” Gran said with a chuckle. “As long as you promise to take good care of the young ‘uns, you’ll be just fine.”

“This is it,” Dooley said miserably. “This is the end.”

“Yeah,” I echoed. “We’re doomed.”

“No, you’re not,” said Gran. “You’ll always be our babies. And if you keep catching killers like you do, you’ll probably even get a medal or something.”

“I don’t want a medal,” I said. “I just want to be Odelia’s baby.”