“What does Chase think?”
“Chase is happy that the case is closed and he never has to set foot inside Dieber Castle ever again.”
Her mother laughed.“Dieber Castle? Is that what they call it?”
“That’s what Dieber calls it. Oh, Mom, you should see the guy. You wouldn’t like him. He’s this bratty, annoying, self-absorbed pop star. A kid, really. Worse than you can imagine. I think I’ll never be able to listen to his music again without remembering what a pain he is.”
“You have to separate the art from the artist, honey. I’ll bet if you met movie stars you wouldn’t be able to watch a single movie anymore. And the same goes for musicians.”
“Oh, and I lost Diego,” she said, deciding to pour her heart out now that she was going so well. “Dieber went on a catnapping rampage last night and I only managed to retrieve Harriet and Shanille.”
Mom checked the recipe in the latest cookbook she’d bought and frowned. “So much sugar. That can’t be right. Perhaps I’ll use half.” She glanced up. “Diego is not a very nice cat, honey. Maybe it’s for the best that he’s gone missing.”
“But I can’t just give him up. He belongs to Chase—Chase’s mother, actually.”
“So?”
“So Chase asked me to take care of him. I can’t go losing his cats, Mom. What kind of person loses another person’s cat?”
“Not all cats are created equal, Odelia. And Diego is clearly not cut from the same cloth as the others. So I say good riddance, and if Chase doesn’t like it—tough luck. He’s the one who foisted his cat on you, so I can’t imagine he cares either way.”
Odelia placed her head on the kitchen counter, enjoying the coolness of the marble against her heated cheek. She had to admit she’d never liked Diego all that much, and apparently he’d been wreaking havoc on her menagerie, stirring up trouble between Harriet and the others, and pestering Max by stealing his food, his water, his litter box and even his space on the bed. She’d hoped the feud would be short-lived, like the one between Max and Brutus had been, but her mother was right. As cats went, Diego was not a very nice one.
“Too much butter,” her mother was muttering. “Clogging up Tex’s arteries is not what I promised him when we exchanged wedding vows. Who wrote this? A serial killer?”
Just then, Grandma walked in, her iPhone glued to her ear as usual. Ever since Dad had gifted her the phone, she’d become an iPhone addict, taking the thing to bed with her and even wondering if she could take it into the shower. “Yes, Mr. President. Oh, but of course, Mr. President. I couldn’t agree more, Mr. President.” She held her hand over the phone and said, as an aside, “It’s the President.”
“I thought as much,” said Odelia, amused.
Grandma returned to her most important conversation.“You will have to sit down with him at some point, Mr. President,” she said as she took a seat next to Odelia and settled in for the duration. “Yes, everybody will be there. The American President, the German Chancellor, the French President, the Chinese General Secretary, the British Prime Minister, His Holiness Pope Francis, of course.” She rattled off a long list of dignitaries and Odelia exchanged a puzzled look with her mother, who merely shrugged and frowned at her recipe some more.
“Is she really talking to the President?” Odelia whispered, not wanting to interrupt her grandmother’s apparently important phone call.
“President Putin,” Mom clarified. “She’s been trying to reach him all morning, and she’s finally succeeded.”
“Putin? The Russian dude?”
“Yep. For some reason she was very anxious he be included in her list of acquaintances.”
“But… why? What’s going on?”
“I haven’t got a clue, and neither has Tex,” said her mother. “We’re just happy she’s found herself a hobby that doesn’t involve bees or horny old goats or running up a huge credit card bill. Ever since Tex got her that phone and a great deal on a mobile phone plan, it’s been pure bliss. We hardly see her anymore. Just drops by for breakfast, lunch and dinner and that’s it.” She put her index finger and thumb together. “Model citizen.”
Odelia studied her grandmother, who was now exchanging pleasantries with Putin. If she was happy, and Mom and Dad were happy, what harm could it do? Probably none. Besides, she had other issues to tackle. Like what to do about Diego. And what to do about this Dieber business. Chase might be happy with the way the case had concluded, but she wasn’t. Something wasn’t right, and she couldn’t walk away until she figured out what.
Chapter 24
Watching Tex and Alec at work proved a great soporific. Very soon my eyes closed, and after a while I was sound asleep, perched on the hot stone floor of the deck. I only woke up when something prodded my ribcage, and I made a valiant attempt to slap them away.
“Lemme… sleep,” I muttered.
“Max!” a voice intruded on my peaceful slumber. “She’s gone!”
“That’s great,” I said, smacking my lips and turning over to my other side. I wasn’t done sleeping. Not by a mile.
“Max!” the voice insisted, and finally I opened my eyes to see who this horrible disturber of the peace could be. I was about to give him a piece of my mind when I found myself staring into Brutus’s green eyes. Once upon a time those green eyes had haunted my nightmares, but that was before Diego had come to town, and our enmity had turned into an unexpected alliance over shared grievances. The enemy of an enemy is a friend and all that.
“Brutus?” I asked, instantly awake. It’s one of my finer qualities. Us cats can be asleep one second and wide awake the next. And we don’t even need liters of caffeine to accomplish this amazing feat. “What’s wrong, buddy?”
“Harriet’s gone, Max. Said she couldn’t live without him.”
“Without who?”
I should probably have said‘whom’ but I didn’t think Brutus would care.
“Diego, of course! She was pining for him and whining about him and finally she left.”
“Where did she go?”
“Dieber’s place, of course! Where Diego was last seen.” He placed a pleading claw on my front leg. “We have to go after her. She’s going to get herself in all kinds of trouble. That place is like the Bermuda Triangle for cats! Enter Dieber Castle and never be seen again!”
“No, it’s not. Dieber collects cats and then he gives them away to deserving Bediebers. Odelia told me all about it. To the Dieber cats are like swag. He puts them in gift bags and hands them out like so many pieces of candy or keychains or beauty products.”
“That’s… sick, Max.”
“Yeah, it’s not very cat-friendly,” I agreed.
Brutus’s eyes had gone wide. “He’s going to give Harriet away! To who-knows-who!”
“He can’t. She’s not his to give away,” I pointed out. Deep down, though, I knew he was right. The moment the Dieber laid his hands on a pretty Persian like Harriet, he would probably give her away to his biggest fan, which might mean she could very well end up in war-torn Afghanistan, Somalia or Syria. The kid had fans all across the globe. And even though Harriet and I rarely saw eye to eye, I would hate for her to meet such a terrible fate.
I gave Dooley, who was snoring softly next to me, a prod in the ribs. He woke up with a start and a snuffle.“Who’s your daddy now?” he mumbled, promptly opening his eyes.
“I don’t want to know,” I told him. “Harriet’s gone, and if we don’t get her back she’ll be on a plane to Kabul, Mogadishu or possibly even Damascus before we know it.”
He blinked a few times.“Kabul? What’s a Kabul, Max?”
“It’s a city, Dooley, and not one Harriet will enjoy. It’s hot there, and not so safe.”
“She’s gone back to Dieber’s place,” Brutus explained urgently. “And we all know what happens to cats once they enter that compound. They vanish! Without a trace!”