“She could have done it out of revenge,” said Dad.
“Let’s talk to her first thing tomorrow,” said Uncle Alec. “In the meantime…” He eyed that apple pie longingly. “What’s for dessert, Marge?”
Mom smiled. “Maybe you should skip dessert for once?”
There was a howl of protest, and it was obvious Uncle Alec wasn’t about to go on a diet anytime soon.
“Wait,” said Dad, getting up. “Before you bring out the pie, there’s something I wanted to get off my chest.”
They all looked at Dad, who was holding up his glass of wine. “Being here with you all warms my heart. And you know I appreciate you for joining my beautiful wife and me around the dinner table each and every night. But this isn’t like any other night. In fact this is a very special night.”
His eyes flickered with delight as Mom clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, Tex. You didn’t…”
“I sure did. Today, thirty years ago, I met the most wonderful woman in the world.”
“Who was she?” Alec quipped.
“She’s sitting right here,” said Tex. “It took me another five years to wear down her resistance and get her to say yes to me.”
“We were too young, Tex,” Mom said.
“You’re still too young,” Gran grumbled.
“And when finally she agreed to be my wife, she made me the happiest man in the world.” He held up his glass in a salute. “Here’s to you, Marge. I love you.”
“I love you, Tex,” Mom said, and then they all raised their glasses, and drank to the couple.
To Odelia’s surprise, Dad got out a bulky package next, and placed it next to Mom’s plate. “Just a small token of my appreciation for all that you do for our family on a daily basis,” he said, taking a seat again.
“Oh, Tex,” she said, a little flustered. “You shouldn’t have.”
Odelia saw that the packaging indicated the store was Ziv Riding’s. So when Mom parted the paper and picked out a blouse, she wasn’t surprised.
“Hey, isn’t that the store where Leo bought me my sweater?” Gran asked.
“It is,” Odelia said, suddenly getting a strange sensation in the pit of her stomach. “Can I take a look, Mom?” she asked.
“It’s beautiful, Tex,” Mom gushed. “Thank you so much.”
Odelia took the blouse and checked the wash care label.
“What are you looking for, honey?” Tex asked with a laugh. “It’s the genuine article, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
“I know it’s the genuine article, Dad,” she said, her grandmother looking on excitedly. “Just that…” She poked at the label, trying to see if something was hidden inside. And then she saw it. She dug her finger in and removed a small piece of paper, ripping it from the seam that had held it inside the label.
“What’s that?” asked her dad, his smile disappearing.
She placed it on the table, and they all leaned in to see. The label said, ‘HELP US! WE PRISONERS HERE!’
Chapter 15
The next morning, Dooley and I decided to go out and do some more sleuthing. We both felt that with all that was going on, we’d neglected our sacred duty to Odelia to do all we could to help her solve this celebrity chef’s murder. The drama with Diego and Brutus had momentarily distracted us, but no more!
Unfortunately the drama hadn’t abated. Harriet and Diego had eloped. They hadn’t been home all night, and Dooley was starting to worry. I didn’t, since I knew that Harriet could take care of herself. Besides, I hadn’t forgotten how she kept hounding me to be BFFs with Brutus, and now suddenly she’d completely lost interest in the cat herself.
Well, two could play that game. I’d lost interest in her. Frankly, I felt betrayed. Harriet knew how we felt about Diego. In the rare moment we’d had her all to ourselves, we’d made it perfectly clear. And still she decided to run with the cat. Well, as far as I was concerned, she was on her own.
“Let’s go, Brutus,” I said, after chomping down a final piece of kibble.
We’d taken the big cat under our wing. After much debate, we figured we couldn’t simply let him hang around the house and be miserable. Better to get him out and about, helping the investigation along. I was sure it would do him a world of good. Besides, I hadn’t lied. There were plenty of other female felines in the world. Maybe one would catch Brutus’s eye and he’d forget all about that treacherous Harriet.
“Do I have to?” Brutus asked morosely.
“Yes, you do,” I said. “No use moping. You need to move past this.”
“But what if Harriet comes home, looking for me? I won’t be here.”
“She won’t come home looking for you,” I said. And when Dooley gave me the angry look again, I added, “Better to get the truth out there, buddy. Harriet won’t be home anytime soon. So you better forget all about her and that Diego.”
At the sound of his rival’s name, a dark look came over Brutus’s face. Yeah, I know it’s hard to see with a black cat like Brutus, but trust me. The dark look came. It was there. “I never want to hear that name again,” he said with a low growl.
“Sure. Let’s just call him… Ivan, shall we?”
“Why Ivan?” asked Dooley, curiously.
“Why not? It’s a name.”
“Let’s call him He Who Cannot Be Named,” Brutus suggested.
“Isn’t that a little dramatic?” I asked. “I mean, really?”
“Isn’t that from a movie?” Dooley asked. “Something with stars. Um, Star Trek? No! Um, Star Wars! Or… Starman? Stardust!”
“Harry Potter, Dooley,” I said curtly. “And no, we’re not naming Diego He Who Cannot Be Named.”
At the sound of the name Diego, Brutus had squeezed his eyes shut and had started singing, “Lalalalalalal!” at the top of his voice. Very mature.
“Let’s just ignore him altogether,” Dooley said, very wisely in my opinion.
“Let’s go, Brutus!” I cried.
He stopped singing Lalala and got up with a weary groan.
We left the house and set paw for the Hampton Springs Hotel. It wasn’t all that far. Hampton Cove is pretty much a one-horse town. Well, actually it’s a no-horse town, though we have many cats, as I’ve amply illustrated.
“So where are we going?” Brutus asked, as despondent as ever. “Not that I care,” he added. “Cause I don’t. I just don’t want to go too far. I’m feeling weak.”
“Hey, I was feeling weak yesterday,” Dooley said. “But that’s because I thought I was dying. But then Odelia told me I was fine, and since she’s a doctor, she can tell if you’re dying, and I’m not, so now I’m fine again, if you see what I mean.”
“What are you talking about?” Brutus grumbled. “Odelia is a reporter, not a doctor.”
Uh-oh. I tried to gesture to the black cat, but he studiously ignored me.
“Odelia’s dad is a doctor, and since that kind of stuff runs in the family, she’s a doctor, too. It’s all genetics, isn’t that right, Max?”
I gave him my best smile and nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“What a load of nonsense,” Brutus said. “Doctors have to go to school for about a hundred years. That stuff’s not genetic. It’s taught! Odelia is as much a doctor as I am a voodoo priest. I’m not a voodoo priest,” he added, to make things perfectly clear.
Dooley got that confused look in his eyes again. He gets that a lot. You might say it’s his standard expression. “Max? What is Brutus saying?”
“Don’t listen to Brutus. He’s still thinking about Diego.”
“Lalalalalala!” Brutus immediately sang.
“See? The guy doesn’t know what he’s saying,” I said. “Trust me, Dooley. Odelia is a doctor and you’re not going to die.”
His face cleared again, and morphed into an expression of childlike glee. It’s his second standard expression. All in all Dooley is pretty limited in his facial expressions.