“You just told us you did!”
“No, I didn’t! I just said I’m happy she’s dead. I would never hurt anyone—least of all Donna. She might have written all that stuff about my wiener but I genuinely liked her. We had a great time together.” He squinched his eyes closed. “Look, dude. I say a lot of dumb shit, but that doesn’t mean I mean any of it.”
“Then tell me where you were at seven this morning, when Donna was murdered.”
“At Pier’s Pont, of course, where you guys picked me up.”
“You expect me to believe you hang around at bars at such an early hour?”
“No, I expect you to believe I hang around at bars at such a late hour. I’d been there all night. Just ask Johnny, the bartender. He knows my face. I’m a regular.”
“Johnny Dusky,” Chase muttered, checking his notes. “That would be the guy who called in the altercation.”
“Yeah, I think he got annoyed when I started rearranging the furniture,” Dexter said with a grin.
Dooley gave me a nudge.“Looks like the guy didn’t do it, Max.”
“Looks like you’re right,” I agreed. “Another dead end, huh?”
“We seem to be running into a lot of dead ends lately, Max. Do you think we’re losing our touch?”
“It’s this diet. It’s making me feel weak. I can’t think straight when I’m hungry, and I’m hungry all the time.”
“You just had a giant meatball!”
“Just the one, though. I could eat ten giant meatballs and still feel hungry.”
Just then, two more cats joined us. They were Harriet and Brutus.
“You guys!” Harriet yelled, gracefully jumping up on the desk. “I know who killed Donna!”
“You do?” I asked.
“She does,” said Brutus proudly, also joining us. “We figured it out together, didn’t we, sugar pie?”
“We sure did, scrunchy munch.”
“So?” asked Dooley. “Who did it?”
“Maureen Cranberry!”
Dooley and I exchanged a puzzled glance.“Who’s Maureen Cranberry?” I asked.
“She’s a woman who filed charges against Donna Bruce for burning her… you know.”
Curiouser and curiouser.“No, I don’t. Burning her what?”
She leaned in, and faux-whispered,“Her business!”
“What business?” asked Dooley.
Harriet heaved an exaggerated sigh.“She bought one of those vajayjay steamers and accidentally burned her vajayjay.”
“What’s a vajayjay?” asked Dooley.
“A woman’s business!”
Dooley turned to me.“I don’t get it, Max.”
I had to admit I didn’t get it either. Harriet was now definitely speaking in riddles. Just then, Odelia and Chase walked out of the interview room, while Dexter was led out by a uniformed officer, probably to cool off in one of the cells. “Hey, Harriet—Brutus,” said Odelia. “What’s up?”
“We found the killer!” Harriet cried.
“Yeah, it’s a woman who burned her business on a vajayjay steamer,” I said. “Whatever that is.”
“Maureen Cranberry,” Harriet clarified. “I found her name after a long and very thorough Internet search. She ordered one of Donna’s vajayjay steamers and ended up burning her business so she sued Donna for damages and extreme emotional suffering and trauma. She lost, though, but I’m sureshe’s still very sore.”
Odelia smiled.“I’ll bet she is.”
Chase frowned.“Who are you talking to?”
“She’s talking to herself again,” Uncle Alec said. “I told you. It’s a weird habit she just doesn’t seem to be able to shake. Isn’t that right, honey?”
“We need to talk to Maureen Cranberry,” Odelia said in response. “She might be our killer.”
Chase’s frown deepened. “Where did that come from, all of a sudden?”
Odelia gave him her best smile.“Just a hunch. Women’s intuition. Are you coming?”
“Hey, what about me?” asked Harriet. “I found Maureen!”
“Well, come on, then,” Odelia said. “What are you waiting for?”
Four cats tripped after Odelia, drawing puzzled glances from Chase. Then Dooley asked,“What’s a vajayjay?”
Chapter 19
“So what’s with this habit of talking to yourself?” Chase asked. “A habit, I can’t help but notice, which seems to grow worse when your cats are around. A lot worse, actually.”
Chase was driving his police pickup, Odelia riding shotgun, her assortment of cats in the bed of the truck. Odelia had wanted to put the cats in the backseat, a place usually reserved for arrestees, but Chase had vocally demurred. Claimed he’d just cleaned up the vomit from the last drunk and disorderly he’d arrested and didn’t want to have to scrape a bunch of hairballs from the backseat now that he got it all nice and puke-free again.
Odelia shrugged.“It’s just a bad habit, Chase. Get over it.”
“No, but why does it grow worse when your cats are around? It’s almost as if you’re talking to them, and they’re talking back to you.”
She let rip a careless laugh.“Talking to my cats—you should hear yourself, Detective Kingsley. How crazy that sounds.”
He smiled.“I know it sounds crazy, but please bear with me. Isn’t it possible that those amazing powers of intuition you always claim to possess—”
“I don’tclaim to possess amazing powers of intuition. Ihave amazing powers of intuition.”
“Okay, I’ll grant you that. But isn’t it possible that those amazing powers of intuition are somehow connected to that ragtag collection of felines you surround yourself with?” He held up his hand. “I know this sounds crazy, but I’ve given it a lot of thought.”
“Have you now? That must have been quite the effort.”
He gave her a comical look.“It’s been scientifically proven that humans and their pets share a sacred bond of some kind. That they somehow influence each other. All I’m saying is that it’s possible that having those cats around has a positive influence on your ability to sniff out clues and find out stuff.”
“It’s possible,” she agreed. Little did he know how possible it really was!
He gave her a keen look.“You know what? I think I just discovered your little secret.”
She swallowed away an uncomfortable lump.“You have?”
“Sure. Those cats bring out the best in you.”
She smiled with relief.“Of course they do.”
“So when are you going to tell me how the name Maureen Cranberry came up?”
She thought quick.“I did a long and very thorough Internet search, and discovered that Maureen bought one of those vagina steamers Donna sells on her site. Maureen ended up burning her business and suing Donna for damages and extreme emotional suffering and trauma.”
“Don’t tell me. She lost?”
“She did.”
“Which makes her a great suspect in my book,” Chase grunted. “Great work, Odelia. You’re quickly becoming my favorite ace sleuth.”
She gave him a chipper smile.“Gee, thanks, Detective. That means a lot coming from you.” Little did he know that the real ace sleuth was riding in the bed of the truck, along with three other ace sleuths.
They’d arrived at Donna’s house and Odelia frowned. “Are you sure this is the right way?”
“Yeah. Turns out Maureen Cranberry is one of Donna’s neighbors. And get this. She’s a member of the same neighborhood association Alpin Carr? belongs to.” He gestured to the small monitor in the center of the console, where Mrs. Cranberry’s file had been pulled up.
Odelia squinted at the screen.“This is all gibberish, Chase. What am I looking at?”
“She was at the demonstration this morning. The one where Alpin was arrested? Officers took down the names of everyone present and Mrs. Cranberry was one of them.”
Chase pulled the car over onto the shoulder and got out. Across the street, a more modest dwelling than Donna Bruce’s majestic mansion stood, a lone mailbox announcing here lived Maureen Cranberry.
She also got out and watched as Max, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus crossed the road, making their way past the gate and onto private property. Her very own feline army, she thought with a smile.