“But your grandmother gave me her word you wouldn’t call the police,” said Allison, looking dismayed. “My niece’s life is on the line. If the police arrest her, it’s all over. No future, unless as a criminal, incarcerated with the worst offenders in some maximum-security hellhole. I can’t do that to her. Whatever she did, I’m sure she had her reasons.”
“She didn’t do it,” said Gran. “I’m sure of it now.”
Allison’s eyes went wide as she clutched both hands to her chest. “Oh, dear heart, your faith in my niece is touching, but surely you saw yourself what happened. She stabbed him with the knife and ran down the stairs, her hands covered in his blood.”
“I know that,” said Gran. “But I also know that I need to follow my hunches, and my hunch tells me she didn’t do it.”
“But then how do you explain about the blood?”
“I think what happened is that your niece woke up, still woozy, and walked into the next room. She saw Kirk’s body and knelt down to try and bring the man back to life somehow. That’s when she came to her senses and came staggering down the stairs.”
Allison glanced over her shoulder, then said, in a low voice, “I’m very appreciative to you for defending my niece like that, dear heart, but I’m not sure it’s helpful. You see, Mia and Kirk were having an affair, and I have a hunch things may have ended badly between them and Mia must have experienced one of those fits of despair and killed her lover in a moment of temporary insanity, which is probably why she doesn’t remember a thing.”
“Mia and Kirk were having an affair?” asked Scarlett. “That’s interesting information, isn’t it, Odelia?”
Odelia stared at Scarlett for a moment. She’d heard her grandmother’s words about Scarlett inserting herself into the investigation but hadn’t really believed them until this very moment. “Yes, very interesting,” she finally conceded.
“That sounds like motive to me,” Scarlett continued. “So we have means, motive and opportunity. Enough for any jury of her peers to convict her and send her to the gallows.”
A cry of anguish escaped Allison’s throat, and Odelia quickly said, “They don’t send people to the gallows anymore, Scarlett.”
“Yeah, you’re thinking of olden times, Scarlett,” Gran added. “When you were young.”
“Haha, very funny, Vesta,” said Scarlett with a grimace.
“Oh, please, whatever you do, don’t call the police,” Allison pleaded, even going so far as to hold up her hands in a prayerful gesture.
“Look,” said Odelia. “My uncle is chief of police, as you probably know, and my boyfriend is a detective. And if I tell them that your niece didn’t do it, they’ll listen.”
Allison’s lips pressed together in an expression of disapproval. “You disappoint me, dear heart. And so do you, Vesta. I expected more from a fellow future Aggie winner.”
“Look, I can promise you this—we’re going to prove that your niece didn’t do it,” said Odelia. “You have my word on that. But what I can’t do is conduct an investigation with a dead man lying upstairs and the police soon wondering what happened to him when missing person reports start coming in. I mean, what were you planning to do with the body? Bury it in your backyard? Stick it in your basement? Turn it into a nice stew?”
“There’s no need for sarcasm, dear heart,” said Allison. “I have a big freezer. I thought about stuffing him in there for the time being. Perhaps indefinitely. Everything to protect my niece from the consequences of her actions. I gave my brother and my dear sister-in-law my solemn word I’d look after their daughter and I intend to live up to my promise.”
“Her parents died?”
“No, they’re in Japan.”
“Look, trust me and this will all be over soon,” said Odelia.
Allison studied her for a moment, then finally gave a curt nod. “But if anything happens to my niece—if anyone so much as hints at sending her to those gallows Miss Canyon referred to, I’m holding you personally responsible, Miss Poole. And you, Mrs. Muffin. And that means no more Aggies for you. Or you, dear heart,” she told Scarlett.
Both Gran and Scarlett looked a little sheepish, as Odelia frowned at them. “What’s all this about Aggies?” she asked. “What is she talking about?” she added when Allison walked up the stairs to give her niece the bad news that the police were coming.
“Allison’s favorite snack,” said Gran. “It’s made from eggs, hence the word Eggies.”
“Yeah, Allison loves her Eggies,” Scarlett was quick to add. “So,” she said blithely, “you girls can talk to cats. I always thought there was some truth to this rumor that’s been going around for years. So how does it work, exactly? And can you talk to dogs, too? And, more importantly, can you teach others? Me, for instance?”
Odelia stared at her grandmother in horror. “You told her!”
“She overheard me talking to Jasmine, all right?”
“Yes, I did. So can you teach me?” asked Scarlett.
“No, we can’t,” said Odelia. This was bad news. Even worse than the dead man upstairs. “It’s a gift, not something that can be taught.”
“Oh,” said Scarlett. “Too bad. I’ve always wondered what my Booboo was trying to tell me. I guess I’ll never know.” Then she perked up. “Unless you want to tell me?”
“We only talk to cats,” said Gran, not looking very happy. “Not dogs or whatever.”
“Too bad,” said Scarlett.
“But our cats can talk to dogs, and they can tell us what they said,” Odelia pointed out. “So if you promise not to tell another living soul about this—ever—I’ll drop by with Max one day and you can talk to your Booboo to your heart’s content.”
Scarlett smiled at this, then quickly adopted her usual blank expression again. Smiling led to wrinkles, and she didn’t want that. “It’s a deal,” she said. “Besides, I wouldn’t tell anyone anyway. Your grandmother and I may not always see eye to eye, but I would never dream of getting her into trouble.”
“That’s just great,” Gran grumbled.
“Hey, you can be a little nicer to a fellow sleuth,” said Scarlett. “Especially since she just discovered your biggest secret and promised to keep it a secret.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Gran. “Now how are we going to prove that what Jasmine said is true, and that Mia is innocent?”
“There’s only one way we can prove that,” said Odelia. “By finding the real killer.” And so she crouched down next to Max and Dooley, who’d followed the conversation with rapt attention. “You guys, this is very important. We need to find out what really happened. So could you go upstairs and talk to Jasmine?”
“She already told me everything she knows,” Gran pointed out.
“Well, you know what cats are like,” said Odelia, glancing up at her grandmother. “Especially Persians. She may not have told you everything.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Gran admitted.
“So, Max and Dooley, please talk to Jasmine, and find out what else she knows, all right?”
“Of course, Odelia,” said Max, and both cats trotted off up the stairs.
“Amazing,” said Scarlett, shaking her head. “I didn’t understand a word you just said.”
Chapter 8
“We should have brought Harriet,” said Dooley. “She and Jasmine could have had a chat. Persian to Persian, I mean. She would probably have been able to drag the truth out of her a lot better than we ever could.”
I had to admit my friend made a valid point. Persians are notoriously difficult, and have a tendency toward feeling superior to any other species of cat, or pet for that matter. And I wasn’t sure if she would listen to us, or even deem us worthy of a response when we asked her a question. But we owed it to Odelia to try our best.
So it was with a sense of slight trepidation that I entered Jasmine’s lair, which apparently was the room belonging to the girl called Mia, and scanned it for the presence of the white-haired feline.