CHAPTER 15
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Odelia was back at her office. The meeting with her uncle hadn’t gone as she had anticipated. For one thing, she still couldn’t give Laia Twine good news about her necklace, poor girl. And now they even had to learn the shocking news that the man who had stolen their necklace was actually a friend of Jay’s, the poor guy.
Dylon Pipe must really have been down on his luck, to go and burgle his friend’s place. He must have discovered that Jay was dating a rich young woman, and must have figured he wanted some of that for himself.
She was pretty sure the necklace would eventually be found, though. Maybe it had slipped underneath a car parked nearby, or fallen into a crack or even slipped through a sewer grate when Dylon hit the ground. She had every faith in her uncle’s people, who were doing their utmost to find the young burglar’s loot.
She glanced over to her cats, sound asleep in a corner of her office, and smiled. They, too, had had to brave the sight of her dad in those ridiculous boxers, but apparently they had endured the experience with admirable fortitude, as had she.
No girl likes to see her daddy, who will always be something of a personal hero to her, making a fool of himself like that. And she’d just picked up the phone to call her mom when a man walked into her office who she’d never seen before.
He looked like a dandy, with a long velvet coat and a green felt hat on his head.
“I greet you, Mrs. Kingsley,” said the man, speaking in formal tones, a supercilious expression plastered all over an elongated face. “My name is Gallagher Davenport, and I have an interesting business proposition for you.”
“A business proposition?” she asked, sitting back as she studied the guy.
“Your grandmother, Vesta Muffin, is a fellow art student. We met last night in art class,” he said, taking a seat, “and she showed me an intriguing video of her cats, Harriet and Brutus, engaged in the creation of their art.”
“Oh, that’s right,” she said. “I saw that.”
“I thought it was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen,” said the man, darting a curious glance to Max and Dooley, who had woken up the moment the man entered, and were listening intently, since the conversation had turned to a topic that was clearly of interest to them.
“Yeah, it is pretty amazing,” she agreed. She was even thinking of putting the video on theGazette website, figuring it would attract a lot of eyeballs to the site.
“The thing is, I offered your grandmother a great deal of money to take those two cats off her hands, but she turned me down. It was only later that I discovered Harriet and Brutus aren’t actually her cats, and that the real owner is you, Mrs. Kingsley.” He inclined his head deferentially in Odelia’s direction.
“Well, let’s just say the cats are co-owned by the whole family,” said Odelia. “Me, my mom and my grandmother.”
“That’s very gratifying to hear,” said the guy, looking well pleased. “Which is why I’m going to make you the same offer I made Mrs. Muffin. Two hundred dollars for both cats.”
Odelia eyed the man curiously. She had to admit she was intrigued.“Why do you want to buy my cats, Mr. Davenport?”
“Why, to make them famous, of course. Never since Bob Ross has the world seen such a thing. Just the mere sight of Harriet and Brutus engaged in their art… Let’s just say it has a distinctly soothing effect on a person. It nurtures the soul. It brings a smile to one’s lips. And right now the world is in need of such a thing.”
“So you think Harriet and Brutus might be the next Bob Ross?”
“Oh, I have no doubt about it. In fact they’ll be bigger than Ross, since they combine the two things the internet loves: watching people paint, and being cats. Cats and painting, in other words, is the magic formula the world has been waiting for. You mark my words, it’s going to be the nextbig thing. Bigger than the pimple popping challenge or even the Tide pods challenge.” He must have felt he was giving the game away, for he quickly added, “With the caveat that a professional marketer puts his genius behind the endeavor, of course.”
“Oh, so you’re a professional marketer?”
“Indeed I am. Davenport& Sons is the company my father started many moons ago. We represent several of the Fortune 500 companies, but this,” he said, pointing to Max and Dooley, “would be a personal project. A passion project, so to speak.”
“Well, I hate to disappoint you, Mr. Davenport, for you do sound very passionate about this, but I’m afraid Harriet and Brutus are not for sale.”
She thought she could hear twin sighs of relief from Max and Dooley, but it was drowned out by the sigh of disappointment from the man in front of her.
“Three hundred,” he said now, breathing a little stertorously and eyeing her intently through lowered lashes.
“Absolutely not.”
He grimaced.“Five hundred, if you throw in that fat orange one over there and that skinny fluffball.”
This time she distinctly heard Max gasp in shock, and say,“Hey, buddy, for your information I’m blorange, not orange!”
“And he’s not fat, he’s big-boned!” Dooley added for good measure.
“I’m afraid I can’t accept your offer, Mr. Davenport,” she said, giving the man a cold look. Insult my cats, and you insult me, she thought. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
“I see,” said the man, and slowly rose to his feet. Then he leaned over the desk and fixed her with a steely look. “One thousand dollars. Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll leave it, and so can you,” she said, meeting his look and adding some frostiness to her own implacable stare.
He abruptly straightened, shook his head in distaste, and left her office without another word.
“Despicable man,” she murmured.
“Thank you for not selling us to that man, Odelia,” said Dooley.
“Yeah, I don’t think I like him,” Max added.
“I’d never sell you guys,” she assured them.
And just as she was getting ready to return to her article about last night’s burglary, the door opened once more and Davenport strode in again, walked straight up to her and showed her his phone for some reason.
“I took these pictures last night,” he said. “I believe they’re of your father.”
She found herself looking at the now familiar pictures of her dad in his funny boxers.“Yes, so what?” she said, getting really sick and tired of this odious man.
“If you don’t sell me your cats, I’ll make sure these pictures are on every social media network, and your father will be the laughingstock of the town. I believe he’s a doctor, so I assume he wouldn’t want his reputation dragged through the mud?”
“My dad’s pictures are already out there, buster,” she said icily. “And now if you don’t get out of my office, I’ll have you thrown out, is that understood?”
He stood there, wavering for a moment, then stalked out and slammed the door.
“What a terrible man!” Dooley cried.
“I guess it comes with the job,” said Odelia. As a reporter she’d met some really unpleasant people, but this guy definitely took the cake.
“I’m glad you kicked him out,” said Max.
“Yeah, if you hadn’t thrown him out, I would have bitten him in the patootie!” said Dooley, and showed her his teeth to prove he wasn’t kidding.
In spite of the recent experience, she had to laugh.
“Thanks, Dooley. It’s good to know you’ve got my back.”
“Always!” said the fluffy gray cat fervently.
CHAPTER 16
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Each time Odelia got stuck writing an article, she knew she could simply ask her boss Dan for his input. The man was probably as old as Methuselah and because of his advanced age, and his extensive experience, he knew pretty much everything there was to know about everyone in town, and a lot of others as well.
And so it was that she found herself in the editor’s office, listening to his sage advice. Dan leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, his long white beard waggling as he chuckled amusedly. “Algis Twine. How about that? Do you know I wrote an article about that guy years ago? You’ll find it in the archives under the C for Crook.”