Ник Сайнт: Purrfect Murder

“I’m sure Chief Alec will drop by the newspaper today to introduce him,” Harriet said, then lowered her gaze. “So you better make sure you’re dressed to the nines, honey. Remember what they say about first impressions.”

“Odelia doesn’t have to dress up to make a great first impression,” I said. “And what’s more, I don’t see why she has to make a great first impression in the first place. It’s not as if she’s even remotely interested in the man, is she?” I gave Odelia a pointed look, but she chose to ignore me. Never a good sign.

“I can always make an extra effort,” she said instead, dragging her fingers through her long blond mane and shaking it out until it fanned out across her shoulders. Uh-oh.

“Why would you want to dress up for that idiot?” I asked, alarmed.

She laughed. “You’re overreacting, Max. I just want to make sure I look presentable for our first meeting. I’ll probably spend a considerable amount of time with the man, working closely together as I have with Uncle Alec.”

That was true enough. As a reporter, she often sat together with the chief to thresh out the details of some case he was working on.

She now rose from the chair and drained the final dregs from her cup, then transferred it to the sink and gave it a good rinse. “Think I’ll go and get ready, you guys.” She winked at Harriet. “Don’t want to be late for work.”

Harriet purred approvingly. The moment Odelia had disappeared upstairs, Harriet gave me a supercilious look. “See? She likes him already. That’s women’s intuition for you.”

“Oh, boy,” I muttered. I had a bad feeling about this. Odelia hooking up with this cop? No way. Imagine they hit it off. Next thing they’d be moving in together, which meant I’d have to share my space with Brutus. Not only my space, but my food, too. And my extra special place at the foot of the bed!

“Trouble in paradise?” asked Harriet sweetly. Too sweetly for my taste.

“I can’t move in with that Nazi furball, Harriet,” I said, shaking my head nervously. “I can’t live with the monster bully spawn from hell!”

“I told you, he’s not a bully, Max. Brutus is simply a stickler for discipline. Just like his human, I would imagine. They’re both cops, Max, not bullies.”

But I wasn’t fooled. Last night Brutus had sprayed all over my favorite tree, just to taunt me. When I complained, he pointed out that Hampton Cove Park and its trees were part of the public domain, and as such off limits to cats that weren’t law enforcement like him. If I wanted to mark a tree as my own, I would have to do it in my own backyard, not the park. It was an awfully narrow interpretation of the Hampton Cove penal code, I felt, if cat spraying was even in the code, as Brutus seemed to suggest.

“He practically chased us out of the park last night!” I cried.

“He did nothing of the kind. He simply pointed out that we’re not supposed to view the park as part of our personal territory.”

“He said I should stick to my backyard if I want to mark my territory!”

“Well, isn’t your backyard big enough for you? And if you’re so desperate for space you can pee in my yard, too, Max. All right? Mi jardin es su jardin .”

“I don’t even know what that means,” I grumbled. Or actually I did. It meant that from now on, this town wasn’t ours anymore. Brutus had taken over.

“Hey, you guys,” a voice spoke from the living room. “Where are you?”

I rolled my eyes again, and Harriet had to suppress a giggle.

“Over here, Dooley!” I called out, then heaved an exasperated groan.

The Ragamuffin came waddling up. “Oh, hey,” he said, his usual stupid grin plastered all over his stupid face.

Dooley is Odelia’s grandmother’s cat, and he’s not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. In fact he’s probably the dumbest cat for miles around, which hasn’t stopped him from securing himself a place in the Poole clan’s hearts and minds. He’s a big, beige, fluffy hairball, and seems to have gotten it into his head that I’m his best friend and wingman. Probably because he lives next door, and is in here all the time. In that sense Harriet, Dooley and I are one big, happy family. Or at least that’s how Dooley sees it.

“What were you talking about?” he asked now.

“The new cat in town,” I said before I could stop myself.

Dooley’s eyes widened. “There’s a new cat in town?”

“Brutus,” Harriet said. “Remember from last night? We met at the park?”

“He told you not to rub yourself against your favorite tree,” I added.

“Oh, that Brutus,” he said, his face clearing. “What about him?”

“Harriet seems to think he’s something special,” I said. “While I think he’s the second coming of Satan, Lucifer and the Prince of Darkness combined.”

Dooley shivered. “I thought he was way intense.”

I gestured at Dooley. “Thank you, Dooley. Brutus is intense.”

Harriet didn’t agree, of course. “Perhaps it’s because he has taken on so much responsibility. That kind of pressure can weigh on a cat.”

“What responsibility!” I cried. “He’s just a stupid cat!”

“He does have great fur, though,” said Dooley.

I turned to him. “What?!”

“That’s raw meat for you,” said Harriet, a little enviously.

“He gets raw meat?” asked Dooley, surprised.

“Only raw meat,” I agreed grudgingly.

“No wonder he’s so incredibly buff and fit!” said Dooley.

“He is buff and fit, isn’t he?” gushed Harriet. “He’s simply dreamy.”

“He’s a musclebound moron,” I grumbled. “That’s what he is.”

“Who is a musclebound moron?” asked Odelia, stepping into the kitchen. She’d showered and dressed and looked cute as a button in a flowery summer dress that revealed quite a bit of cleavage and a lot of leg. My jaw dropped. If this was the way she was going to meet Chase Kingsley I might as well welcome Brutus into our home now. The guy would fall for her like a ton of bricks. I just knew he would. No one could resist my human when she was all fresh-faced and cute as a button like this.

“Brutus,” I said, in a last-ditch effort to stop this terrible ordeal from taking place. “Like his master, he’s a musclebound idiot addicted to meat.”

“You can’t be addicted to meat,” Dooley laughed. “It’s an essential component of a well-balanced diet. And what’s essential can’t be addictive.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I grunted. “Thank you, Dr. Phil.”

Dooley blinked confusedly. “Who’s Dr. Phil?”

“You guys better behave,” said Odelia as she snatched her clutch from the counter and strode to the sliding door that led into the backyard. She closed it. “Oh, and could you find out whatever you can about Chase Kingsley?”

Now it was my turn to blink confusedly. “Anything?”

“Sure. The more I know about him, the better… for my article,” she concluded lamely.

I saw an opportunity here. An opportunity to dig up some dirt on this new supercop, so I nodded. “Sure. I’ll do my best.”

“Great. See you later, guys.”

“See you, hon,” said Harriet.

“See you, Odelia,” said Dooley.

I didn’t say anything. I was thinking hard how to stop my human from hooking up with Brutus’s human and making my worst nightmare come true.

We watched Odelia walk out the front door, then return five seconds later to grab her sunglasses from the hallway credenza, then return again to grab her smartphone, give us a goofy grin, a cheery wave, and pull the door shut.

“Oh, don’t look so glum,” said Harriet.

“You would look glum if you were about to be kicked out of your home.”