Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Murder

“Someone must have found out,” she said.

“We have to compile a list of all the victims,” Chase said.

She gave him an amused look. “Are we actually working this investigation together now, Detective Kingsley?”

He shrugged. “I’m starting to see that if I’m ever going to fit in in this town, I better adapt to the way things are done around here. And from what Chief Alec’s been telling me you’re a great researcher, so…”

“So you’re allowing me to take part in the investigation?”

He studied her for a moment. “I’m drawing the line at you going out there and interviewing suspects—actively pursuing leads. But this…” He gestured at the laptop. “This is analyst’s work, and I don’t see why you can’t give us your two cents. It’s not as if there’s any danger involved.”

Annoyed, she said, “So I’m being relegated to playing second fiddle, huh? You actually want to keep me from going out there and doing my job?”

“Doing my job,” he corrected her tersely. “Interviewing suspects is police business, Miss Poole. And so is following leads. What would you do if a suspect turns violent? Or, God forbid, you actually confront the killer and he turns the tables on you? You don’t have a gun and even if you did, you’re not trained to protect yourself.” He shook his head adamantly. “You’re not qualified and I want you off the street. Your uncle Alec feels the same way.”

“I very much doubt that,” she insisted.

“Look, I’m cutting you a lot of slack here,” he said, gesturing at the computer. “And to be honest, I still think this is a bad idea.”

“Well, thanks for nothing,” she said, and quickly got up.

Just then, her uncle stuck his head through the door. “Frey’s publisher is here. You want to be present while I do the interview? You too, Odelia,” he said with a pointed look at Chase, who emitted an exasperated groan.

“I’m happy that someone appreciates my help,” she said as she breezed past Chase and followed her uncle out of the small evidence room. On the way over to his office, she saw that Rohanna was busy cleaning the vestibule, moving and shaking to the music, as usual, and singing along to some unheard tune. She smiled. At least someone was having fun around here.

The interview with the publisher didn’t take long. The man had been in town to pick up Frey’s belongings that had been released, like his clothes, his suitcases and the printed-out copy of his manuscript. Uncle Alec was going to hang on to the laptop for a little while longer. When questioned why Frey’s family didn’t collect the writer’s stuff, he said Frey was estranged from his family, and he was all he had. The publisher hadn’t been happy with Frey, either, for he’d been having trouble finishing his new book, apparently too busy with his Army of No and his trolling to spend time writing.

When the interview was over, Chase and Odelia returned to the evidence. The moment she stepped inside, she clutched Chase’s arm. “The laptop!”

“What?” Then his eyes swiveled to the table. “Oh, Christ.”

The laptop they’d left on the table was gone.

The cop cursed under his breath, and instantly rushed out, Odelia right behind him. But when he asked Dolores, the dispatcher said no one else had been in there, and that she definitely hadn’t touched that laptop.

Odelia stared around, and her eye fell on Rohanna, who was now busy dusting off a cabinet in the corner of the vestibule. It held pictures of Chief Alec holding up a very large bass, and several of his fishing trophies. She approached the cleaner, and when she tapped her on the shoulder, Rohanna started, and took out her earbuds. “Hey, honey. Everything all right?”

“Have you seen anyone pass by here? Something went missing from the evidence room,” she explained.

But the cleaning lady shook her head. “I haven’t exactly been paying attention. But I don’t think I’ve seen anyone. Why don’t you ask Dolores?”

She nodded, and quickly darted a glance at Rohanna’s rolling cart. No sign of a laptop, of course. She dropped the crazy notion. “Thanks,” she said, and shook her head at Chase, who’d been watching from a distance.

Judging from his frown, or the way he’d folded his arms across his chest, he wasn’t happy about this. “I should have locked that room,” he said now, as they walked back to the evidence room. “Never leave evidence unattended. It’s the first rule,” he added, scowling at her, as if he personally blamed her.

“What?” she asked. “Is this my fault now? I didn’t take that computer.”

“I know you didn’t. But someone did. Someone snuck in here, managed to get past Dolores unseen, and snuck back out.”

Rohanna’s eye traveled to the window, which was open and didn’t have any bars, like all the windows in the police office. “Do you think they might have gotten in through there?”

They both moved over to the window, and Chase opened it all the way so they could lean out. The view wasn’t anything to write home about: a small patch of wasteland that once had been intended for a parking lot, but now was just a tangle of weeds. Someone could easily have come through there, hopped in through the window and absconded with that laptop. But who?

“It might have been thieves,” she suggested. “Kids wanting a free laptop.”

But Chase shook his head grimly. “I doubt it.”

“Yeah, actually so do I. Whoever stole that laptop must have known it contained information that might lead us to the killer.”

He fixed her with a serious look. “Whoever took that laptop just might be the killer.”

And even though she rarely saw eye to eye with the burly cop, she had to admit he was probably right this time. Which meant the killer must have been watching them, following the investigation. Which also meant that the killer… was one of them. Not an outsider, but someone from Hampton Cove.

Chapter 22

I woke up feeling refreshed, and stretched happily. I couldn’t remember having slept this great in quite a while. I opened one eye, saw that Dooley was still occupying the other side of the couch, and closed my eye again. Maybe I could squeeze in a couple hours more, now that I was going so well. But then I suddenly remembered Clarice’s startling revelation of the previous day. She’d actually revealed the identity of the murderer! And we hadn’t even told Odelia! Instantly, I was wide awake, and gave Dooley a poke.

He mumbled, “Juss… lemme… sleep… zzz.”

I prodded him again, hissing, “We have to tell Odelia who the killer is!”

He opened his eyes lazily. “Huh? Killer? What are you talking about?”

“The killer! The Paulo Frey thing!”

He smacked his lips, then yawned, and as I watched, I could practically see his brain booting up, and grasping the meaning of my words. His eyes snapped open, and he sat up with a jerk. “The killer! We have to tell Odelia!”

“That’s what I just said,” I grumbled.

I hopped gracefully from the couch and stretched my back, then strode languidly over to the stairs and started making my way upstairs. When I didn’t find Odelia in the bedroom, I realized time had gotten away from us, and she’d already left. It was a lot later than I’d thought!

“She’s gone,” I said when Dooley sauntered into the bedroom. We both trotted down the stairs again, and were about to leave through the pet door when two cats came barging in. They were the last cats I wanted to see: Harriet and… Brutus. I leveled a disapproving look at the latter. This time he’d gone too far. “Brutus, this is my house, and I want you out of here.”

Brutus gave me one of his trademark infuriating grins. “Wow, wow, wow. Now hold it right there, Maxie. Keep it cool, buddy. I’ve come in peace.”