I enunciated very clearly, cause I know from experience that dogs aren’t the smartest species.
The dog barked again, and I took it as a sign that Stacie was home. Then he became more eloquent. “She’s in bed. She had a rough day yesterday and she’s sleeping in.”
“Thanks for making that clear,” I said, still speaking slowly and clearly.
Puck frowned. “So why are you yelling, buddy?”
“I thought you might have trouble grasping my meaning.”
“I’m grasping your meaning just fine. There’s nothing wrong with my ears. Why don’t you come in?”
I hesitated. This could be a trap. Then again, no dog has ever been able to catch a cat. We’re built for speed, they’re built to lumber along on a leash.
I put one paw forward, and Dooley asked, panicked, “You’re not going in, are you, Max?”
“Why not? He doesn’t look dangerous to me.”
We stared at the dog, who gave us a dumb grin. “I know what this is,” he said. “Candid camera, right? Am I being punked? Huh? Is that what this is?”
“Yeah, he’s not dangerous,” Brutus decided, and beat me inside. I went in second, with Dooley a close third.
The room was nice, in a generic hotel sort of way. These places all look the same to me. It was a small room, nothing fancy. Niklaus definitely hadn’t splurged on his assistant’s travel budget. He probably stayed in the suite, while Stacie had to make do with the crumbs.
“So we’re investigating the murder of your human,” I said. “Niklaus?”
“Yeah, I know who my human is,” said Puck. “I mean, was.”
He didn’t look too broken up about the chef’s death. “So what do you think happened?” I asked.
“Not so fast, Max,” said Dooley. “You can’t just waltz in here and start asking a bunch of questions.” He nodded at Puck. “Hi, my name is Dooley, and these are Max and Brutus. We live with a woman named Odelia Poole. She’s a reporter investigating the murder of your human. And we’re here to help her.”
“I’ve heard about you,” said Puck. “Your human can communicate with you, right?”
“Where did you hear that?” Brutus immediately asked.
“There was a cat at the restaurant Niklaus was doing, um… what was her name again? Oh, that’s right. Montserrat. She kinda belonged to one of the girls that worked there. She told me about this cat that talks to his human, and helps her solve murders and stuff. Max. That’s you, right?”
“Yeah, that is me,” I admitted, starting to swell a little with pride. So I was famous, huh? Cool.
“Did she also talk about me?” Dooley asked. “Cause we’re buds, Max and I. We solve all these murders together.”
“And don’t forget about me,” Brutus chimed in. “We’re a trio now.”
“Nah. She only mentioned Max. Said you were a big orange cat.”
“Blorange,” I was quick to correct him. “Yes, it’s a color,” I added before he could ask. “So what about Stacie? Do you think she killed Niklaus?”
“Max!” Dooley cried. “You can’t just spring a question like that on him! Can’t you see the dog is grieving?”
“I’m not grieving,” said Puck, his soft brown eyes mellow and bright. He’d plunked his big, hairy body down and was resting his head on his front paws. He had a funny-looking white fringe that hung over his eyes. The guy clearly needed a trim.
“You’re not?” Dooley asked. “But your human died.”
“Yeah, and I’m happy he did. He was a pretty lousy human. Stacie is a great person, and so much nicer to me than Niklaus ever was. Did you know he used to beat me? Yeah, that’s right. He was one of those humans. A nasty one.”
“That’s just terrible!” Dooley cried. “He beat you? How awful!”
“He treated Stacie pretty badly, too. Used to yell at her all the time. She used to cry a lot, but only when no one was watching. Except me. So I guess you could say we went through the same ordeal and came out the other end.”
“You have a shoulder to cry on and so does she,” Dooley said. “How moving.”
“Are you crying, little buddy?” asked Puck.
“No,” said Dooley in a strangled voice. “Just a speck of dust.”
“Don’t cry for us,” said Puck. “We’re great now. Stacie has already told me she plans to keep me, so I’m in dog heaven right now. Stacie is the best.”
“So…” I glanced at Dooley, wondering if now was the time to ask the question. But he was so busy wiping his eyes that he didn’t notice. I shrugged. “So did Stacie kill Niklaus?”
“Max!” Dooley cried.
“Yeah, Max,” Brutus growled. “Where are your manners?”
“Hey, how else am I going to get an answer?”
“It’s all right,” said Puck. “The short answer is that I have no idea. I wasn’t there when Niklaus was killed. He’d locked me up in his suite as usual. The long answer is that I’m pretty sure Stacie would never do such a thing. She’s far too sweet. Besides, have you seen Stacie?”
“Um, no, we haven’t,” I said.
“She’s small, buddy. And from what I hear the killer hoisted Niklaus all the way up into the restaurant oven.” He shook his head, his fringe swishing. “Nah. No way that girl has the body strength to perform such a feat.”
Well, I had my answer, and I was glad. Another suspect scratched from the list. Odelia would be happy.
“So do you have any idea who did kill Niklaus?” Brutus asked.
Great question. Why didn’t I think of that?
His big, mellow dog eyes grew moist. “No idea. But whoever did it deserves a medal. Without him—or her—I would still be locked up in that suite, and Stacie would still be the least-appreciated assistant in the world.”
It was pretty clear to me that Niklaus Skad’s killer had done the world a favor, or at least Puck and Stacie. It was a touching story, and one I just knew would one day make a great Lifetime movie featuring Danica McKellar in the role of Stacie and Rob Lowe as Niklaus Skad. I wondered who’d play the dog. Or me!
Puck was recalling some more moving moments from his life as a dog, while Dooley listened with bated breath, Brutus checked out Puck’s bowl for scraps, and I checked out the room for clues to Stacie’s personality.
Suddenly the doorbell rang, and a tired voice sounded in the bedroom. “Who is it?!”
Then the voice of Odelia came through the door, loud and clear. “Odelia Poole, Miss Roebuck. Could I please have a moment of your time?”
Chapter 17
Odelia knocked on the door again. Maybe Stacie wasn’t going to let her in? That was the disadvantage of being a reporter. Oftentimes people simply didn’t allow you in. And she couldn’t force them. It wasn’t as if she was the police or something. No one was under any obligation to talk to her.
“Coming!” the same voice sounded from inside.
The door was opened and a tired-looking young woman looked out at her. “Yes?”
“Hi. Miss Roebuck? Miss Stacie Roebuck? My name is Odelia Poole? I’m a reporter with the Hampton Cove Gazette. I also work as a consultant with the Hampton Cove Police Department. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about your boss.”
Stacie nodded and opened the door wider. As Odelia stepped in, she saw three cats and a dog sitting on the carpet staring up at her. She did a double take, and when she looked again, she saw that Max, Dooley and Brutus had vanished, and that only the dog was left. He was a big, black, hairy dog with soulful eyes.
“Lemme just close the window,” said Stacie, and padded over barefoot, snapping it shut. Just before she did, Odelia saw how her three cats had been inching toward the window, which was probably how they’d gotten in in the first place. So now they were trapped. Great. Just great.
“I’m sorry to bother you at such an early hour,” she said.
“No, that’s all right. I must have overslept. Usually I get up at the crack of dawn, but now, with all that’s happened, I guess I was just bone-tired last night.”