“So Odelia still thinks it was foul play, does she?” asked Dooley, who was lying next to me on the cool grass.
“Yeah, she does,” I said.
“I think so, too, Max. I don’t think a kid like Todd would simply drown like that.”
“It does all sound very suspicious,” I agreed.
“I think Scott killed his friend. I think he was upset that his best friend was still dating his sister, and they got into an argument and he accidentally killed him.”
“It is a possibility.”
“It’s not the kind of crime a girl would commit, is it, Max?”
“Girls are capable of murder, Dooley, not just boys.”
“I know, but Layla seems like such a sweet girl.”
We looked over to where Layla Walcott sat nursing a soda. She looked sad, and wasn’t really talking much to anyone. Then again, this wasn’t a party, this was a wake, and the atmosphere was appropriately subdued as a consequence. Scott and Layla’s parents were there, serving drinks. They’d taken the precaution to close up the pool, covering it up with a large blue tarpaulin. It seemed like the safest and most respectful thing to do.
Rosa and Tilton Bond were also there, and stood chatting with Scott and Layla’s folks. Scott himself was checking some notes he had in his hand, and I think he was going to read something he’d written, presumably saying a couple of words about his best friend.
Just then, Aisha Bond suddenly walked up to Layla Walcott, and threw a glass of orange juice into the girl’s face! Immediately voices were raised, and a good deal of shouting ensued, and if both sets of parents hadn’t kept the girls apart, I think hair-pulling and an actual physical altercation would have been in the cards as well. As it was, though, Aisha stomped off on a huff, ignoring her mother’s shouts to come back and apologize, and since I’m the kind of cat who always wants to know what is going on, I decided to follow her, and so did Dooley.
We watched her walk off and hit the sidewalk, and saw how Odelia got out of the car and approached the teenager. Aisha broke down, and Odelia wrapped her in her arms.
“She did it!” said Aisha, sniffling.
“Who did what, Aisha?” asked Odelia.
“Layla, of course. I’m sure of it. She killed my brother, and now she’s playing the grieving girlfriend.”
“But I thought Layla and your brother had broken up?”
“They didn’t break up—Todd dumped her. Layla was too needy—he told me so himself. She was crazy. Obsessed. Always sending him messages—up to a hundred a day. And leaving him little notes in his locker, and even writing him letters. She said she couldn’t live without him, and finally he’d had enough so he told her he couldn’t see her anymore, and that’s when she went crazy. Started stalking him everywhere he went.”
“So you think she killed him?”
“Of course she did. She once told him: if I can’t have you, no one can! Isn’t that clear enough? She should be locked up.”
“Do you still have those notes and letters?” asked Chase.
“No, Todd threw them all away.”
“And what about the messages on his phone?”
“She must have taken his phone and destroyed it. To make sure no one would find out. But I know what she did—and she won’t get away with it!” She turned to Chase. “You have to arrest her, Detective Kingsley. She did it—she killed my brother.”
“I’m afraid that without any evidence we can’t arrest her, Aisha,” said Chase.
“What evidence do you need? I’ll help you. Ask me anything. I’ll help you catch her!”
But when Chase gave her a helpless look, she muttered a loud groan of frustration, then stalked off, angrily swiping at her tears.
“If we could just get our hands on that phone,” said Odelia, as she stood looking after Aisha as the girl disappeared around the corner.
“I applied to get access to his phone records,” said Chase, “so maybe that will give us something. And I’ve been working to get access to his phone’s backup.”
“Is there a backup?”
“Let’s hope so, though I’m not holding my breath. His service provider told me to get in touch with Google, but that will take time. Also, since this investigation is now officially closed, I might get some grief from the Chief.”
“Even Uncle Alec has to admit that there’s more to this case than meets the eye.”
“Yeah, after what Aisha just told us, I think I might be able to convince him to reopen the case.”
“Though even if Layla wrote him a hundred messages a day, that still doesn’t prove she killed him.”
“No, but it would give us a reason to question her. I have a feeling she knows more than she’s telling us. Scott, too.”
They both stood watching the house where now the voice of Scott could be heard, extolling the virtues of his deceased friend.
He sounded sincere enough.
Chapter 27
It was time for us to return home. The wake had come to an end, and we hadn’t learned much that made us any the wiser as to the circumstances surrounding Todd’s death. And as we rode the short distance to Harrington Street, Odelia offered a fresh take on the matter.
“Isn’t it possible that Todd killed himself?”
“How do you mean?” asked Chase
“Well, he wasn’t doing well in school lately, he’d broken up with Layla, and was being pursued by her, and he missed his real dad, didn’t get along with his stepdad. Maybe it all got to be too much, and so he simply jumped into that pool and… didn’t come up again.”
“It is possible,” Chase allowed. “Though not very likely, babe.”
“But why not? It happens. People can get into such a funk that they don’t know what they’re doing. And especially if he’d been drinking and smoking weed. He was in a bad place, and drink and drugs just made it worse.”
Honestly, I didn’t see it that way. Todd’s death raised all kinds of questions, and we all wanted to find the answers. But suicide? It wasn’t impossible, of course, but somehow the idea didn’t strike me as the solution to this baffling mystery.
As to what the solution actually was, I have to admit that I was still stumped.
We arrived home to find Gran and Scarlett in conference with Harriet and Brutus. They were all seated around the garden table, with Harriet trying to teach Scarlett the ABC’s of felinedom, and judging from the long faces not exactly succeeding!
“Look, if we can’t make this work, Baker Street Cats is a lost cause!” said Brutus.
“I know, sweet potato,” said Harriet, looking distinctly unhappy, “but what do you want me to do? The woman doesn’t even understand the simplest thing!”
“And?” said Odelia. “Have you made progress?”
“It’s hopeless,” said Gran, throwing up her hands. “I’m ready to give up.”
“And me,” said Scarlett. “I’ve been at this all day, and I still don’t understand a single syllable!”
“Hel-lo, Scarlett,” said Harriet, drawing the words out.
“Me-ow me-ow,” said Scarlett.
“Why is this so hard to understand!”
“Meow meow meow etcetera etcetera etcetera.”
“Aaargh!” Harriet cried, and threw up her paws in a fine imitation of Gran’s frustration.
“How did it go with you guys?” asked Brutus.
“There was a wake,” I said, “and Aisha Bond accused Layla Walcott of killing her brother.”
“She did, did she?”
“She says Layla was obsessed with Todd, and couldn’t forgive him for breaking up with her. So she killed him.”
“You’re investigating a murder?” asked Gran.
“What murder?” asked Scarlett.
“According to my uncle it was an accidental drowning,” Odelia explained as she took a seat at the table. “But we think something more nefarious is going on.”
“This is exactly the kind of thing the Baker Street Cats should be investigating,” said Brutus. “Only we’re not getting anywhere.”
“Didn’t you mention that Scarlett’s cousin could build an app that could translate feline communication?” I asked.