“I thought she was your greatest rival,” said Chase.
“She was—but being the greatest rivals created a bond. After my career tanked, Donna was the only one who cared to look me up. She helped me find an apartment when my money ran out and even paid the rent. She was the only true friend I ever had.”
Now this was news. “So where do you live now?” asked Odelia.
“Long Island City. I moved out here when Donna moved out here.”
“And Donna was paying your rent?”
“She was. Now that she’s gone I guess that’ll be over.”
“Maybe not. Maybe she put a provision in her will for you.”
Zelda looked up hopefully. “You think?”
“Didn’t you ever talk about this kind of stuff?”
She shook her head. “Donna figured we’d live forever. She refused to discuss death. Said if we just ignored it we might be able to cheat it.” She laughed through her tears. “She was a real hoot once you got to know her.”
“What about royalties from your movies?” asked Chase. “You made so many amazing movies. Possibly the best and greatest franchise in the history of cinema.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I can tell you’re a real fan, Detective. But back when I made those movies I wasn’t a star at all. I was just a beginning actress and I signed a lousy deal. I got paid twenty-five grand for the first one, a bit more for the others. The last one netted me three hundred thousand.”
“Not exactly big money.”
“Not exactly. If you subtract taxes, agent fees, social security and all that, there wasn’t a whole lot left. Not enough to retire on, that’s for sure.”
Odelia caught Chase frowning. It was obvious that there was no motive for Zelda to murder Donna. Not if she stood to lose her benefactor. The woman who’d helped her out all these years.
“Are you sure you don’t remember where you were yesterday morning, Zelda?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I get these memory lapses. I’ll lose hours at a time.”
It wasn’t hard to figure out why that was. Officers had found Zelda’s abandoned car a mile from Donna’s house, the door open. Inside, they’d discovered enough weed to supply a small colony. And the smoking thing Dooley and Max had seen her use inside the house wasn’t incense but Zelda’s bong, which explained the pungent odor that had permeated the house.
“Did Donna also finance your marijuana habit?” she asked.
The woman’s eyes widened. “Marijuana? I don’t have a marijuana habit.”
“Come on, Zelda,” said Chase. “We found your car. And your stash.”
She sobered. “That’s for medicinal purposes only. I have allergies.”
“Pot helps with allergies?”
“Pot helps with everything,” she said with a lazy grin. “I could actually use some right now. Can you hook me up?”
“Are you really asking a cop to hook you up with drugs?” asked Chase.
She narrowed her eyes. “Is that a trick question?”
He turned to Odelia. “Can I talk to you outside?”
They both left the room. “I don’t think she did it,” said Chase once they were alone.
“You’re only saying that because she’s your hero.”
He pointed at the woman behind the one-way mirror. “Do you seriously want me to believe that wreck of a human being had the presence of mind to steal a hive of bees, then execute the perfect crime? She doesn’t even remember how she got to Donna’s house in the first place. Not to mention the fact that Donna paid her rent and who knows what else.”
“I was just kidding. I don’t think she did it either.”
“Oh, Christ!” Chase yelled, fisting his fingers in his hair and pulling. “Back to square one!”
“Looks like it,” Odelia confessed. She studied Zelda for a moment, who was now making finger guns and pretending to shoot at the ceiling. Probably reenacting one of the stunts she’d done without a stunt double on the set of Star Cars. “We’ll just have to keep on digging,” she finally said.
“We got the analysis back on some tire tracks we found behind Donna’s house.”
“And?”
“Toyota Tacoma. We’re putting together a list of Tacoma owners. It might take a while.”
She nodded. Good old-fashioned police work. Chase was an ace at that kind of thing, and so was her uncle. She depended more on her instincts, her cats and… sheer luck. She rubbed her eyes.
“Why don’t you get some sleep?” he suggested. “You look beat.”
“Yeah, maybe I’ll do that. I could use a few more hours. What about you?”
He smiled. “I’m one of those Star Cars dudes, babe. We don’t need sleep, only stardust.”
She leaned in for a kiss, and that’s when something started vibrating in her pocket. Chase reached down and took it out. It was a small black plastic thing, shaped like a rocket. With an expert hand, he switched it off and tucked it back into her pocket, then cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at her.
She blushed. “I’m one of those Star Rig gals, babe. We don’t need guys, only batteries.”
He stroked a finger along her cheek, and huskily said, “Whenever you change your mind about that, you know where to find me.”
Chapter 27
Odelia had dropped by the house, announcing that we weren’t out of the woods yet. The case, which we’d assumed closed, was still wide open, Zelda Yoke not the cunning killer we’d pegged her as. Bummer. Harriet, returning from her power walk with Brutus, was ecstatic, though.
“I knew it!” she yelled. “I just knew it! No way Max and Dooley caught the killer.”
“Why is it so hard to believe we would catch the killer?” I asked, feeling a little offended.
“Because you’re boys,” said Harriet with amazing lack of logic and reason. “Come on, Brutus. We’re leaving.”
“But we just got here!” the big, black cat cried. He was lying spread-eagle on the floor, trying to catch his breath.
“And now we’re leaving. We have a killer to catch and no time to waste!”
And just when I thought she was going to hit the street and pound the pavement, just like any old-fashioned detective, she hopped up on Odelia’s computer table and fired up the computer. With a grunt of despair, Brutus hauled himself up from the floor and shuffled after his ladylove. Glancing over his shoulder, he muttered, “Never get married, fellas. Don’t do it.” And then he joined Harriet at the computer, ready for another few hours of surfing the web.
Odelia, who’d taken a shower and looked more human when she returned downstairs, said, “Are you guys coming?”
“Nah-uh,” said Harriet without looking up from her no doubt strenuous activity. “We’re busy trying to find the killer, Odelia. Isn’t that right, sugar-pop?”
“Whatever you say, snuggle-cup,” said Brutus, having trouble keeping his eyes open.
Odelia stared at the twosome, and for a moment I thought she was going to say something, but then she seemed to think better of it. She turned to us. “What about you guys? Are you coming?”
“Yes, please,” I said. Anything to get away from Harriet, who was in a particularly annoying mood today.
We rode in Odelia’s pickup to the office, where she dropped us off. “Don’t wander off too far,” she warned as she locked the car. “And remember about your diet, Max. Don’t fall off the wagon.”
“I won’t,” I promised her. We watched her disappear into the offices of the Hampton Cove Gazette and then set foot down the street.
“So where are we going?” asked Dooley.
“Why don’t we pay a visit to Kingman?” I suggested. “We haven’t seen that cat in a while.”
Kingman is Wilbur Vickery’s piebald. Wilbur runs the General Store and sells pretty much everything the grown cat needs—and the grown human, for that matter. Dooley must have seen right through me, for he said, “We’re just gathering information, right? Not food?”