CHAPTER 7
[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]
“For a man who says he has no hard feelings toward his ex-girlfriend Bud sure has a lot of hard feelings toward his ex-girlfriend,” Dooley remarked as we climbed back into Odelia’s battered old pickup.
“You’re right about that, Dooley,” said Odelia as she tapped her keys against the steering wheel. She turned to us. “So what did you think? Could he be involved? Or is Jay hoodwinking his girlfriend, like Bud says?”
“Hard to tell,” I said. “One thing’s for sure, Bud holds a serious grudge against Jay.”
“Yeah, I got that impression, too.”
“I don’t think he was being fair,” said Dooley. “A gigolo provides a very important service to humanity. With all those lonely women out there, it’s very decent and very kind of him to provide some company to all those ladies.”
I shared a smile with Odelia.“It’s not a given that Jay really is a gigolo,” said Odelia. “He claims he isn’t, so there’s that.”
“He’s probably one of those discreet benefactors,” said Dooley. “Who do a lot of good but don’t want people to know about it. You know, like a modern saint.”
This time Odelia actually had to laugh, earning her a confused look from Dooley.
“We better have a chat with this…” She consulted her notes again. “Um, Loretta Everyman.”
“What’s a skank, Odelia?” asked Dooley, without missing a beat. “Is that like a skunk? Cause I saw a documentary about skunks on the Discovery Channel and when they get scared they spray you with something very smelly.”
“A skank is a not-so-pleasant person,” I said. “Perhaps a little sleazy.”
“Do you think Loretta Everyman will spray us with something very smelly when she doesn’t like us? Cause I just finished grooming myself, you know.”
“No, I don’t think Loretta will spray us with something smelly,” I said.
Odelia cranked her car in gear and backed out from between a Tesla and a BMW. These tennis club people sure had a lot of money to spend on cars.
“Maybe one of these days you should buy yourself a new car,” I suggested, not for the first time.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she said with a sigh. Then had to use all her strength to yank hard at the wheel, making sure she didn’t hit a nice Porsche.
I guess back when they made her pickup—in the Stone Age, I mean—they hadn’t invented power steering yet, and expected people to develop extra muscles to make their cars go where they wanted them to go. Then again, Odelia is plenty strong. If you can squeeze an entire infant out of your tummy, you have to be.
Loretta Everyman worked the counter at our local supermarket. No, not the General Store, where our friend Kingman is more or less in charge, but the supermarket located in the strip mall on the road into town.
Loretta was hard at work sliding her customers’ wares along the scanner when we approached.
“Could I have a quick word, perhaps?” Odelia suggested, placing a can of cat food on the counter, which was an excellent choice indeed. “Jay Green told me to talk to you,” she clarified when Loretta stared at her, uncomprehending. At the mention of her ex-boyfriend, a sort of dark cloud slid across the young woman’s face and she grunted, “I have no idea who that is.” She picked up the can of cat food, scanned it and slammed it down again. “That’ll be one ninety-nine.”
“Jay is the victim of a harassment campaign,” Odelia explained as she took out her card.
“Oh, and he thinks I had something to do with that, does he? Well, that’s just great.”
“I’m not saying you’re the person responsible,” said Odelia, talking quickly, since a line was forming behind her. “Just that maybe you could shed some light on who is.”
“Look, all I know is that Jay’s trouble started when he hooked up with that Laia person. So whatever is going on, he only has himself to blame.”
“And why is that?”
Loretta gave Odelia a not-so-friendly look.“Who are you? A cop?”
“Not a cop, no. Laia and Jay asked me to investigate, so that’s what I’m doing.”
“You know who Laia Twine is, don’t you?”
Odelia merely waited, which is a great technique for getting people to talk.
Loretta heaved an exaggerated sigh.“Look, the only reason Jay dumped me is because Laia is this little rich girl, and since he’s basically a failure as an artist, he probably hoped she would bankroll his lifestyle. Set him up in a studio of his own, where he can tinker and mess around without actually having to make any money. Only from what I’m hearing, her parents cut her off the moment she tried to foist Jay on them. So now they’re both in big trouble.”
“So you’re saying the only reason Jay dumped you is because Laia is rich?”
“Sure! We had a good thing going, me and Jay. Or at least I thought we had. But then Miss Moneybags came along, and suddenly I wasn’t good enough for the Starving Artist.”
“You wouldn’t happen to have created a profile for Jay on a dating site, would you?”
“No, I would not,” said Loretta decidedly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, people are waiting.”
And so it became clear that our interview was at an end.
Once outside, Dooley said with a sort of puzzled look on his face,“She didn’t look sleazy to me, Max. Her clothes were clean, her face was washed, and she smelled nice.”
“Yeah, I think Bud Zuk wasn’t being very nice when he made that comment,” I agreed. “She looks like a very nice girl.” A little resentful, perhaps, but that was to be expected, if what she said about Jay was true.
We all piled into the pickup again, and Odelia voiced the general sentiment when she said,“So now what?”
“Now we know that Jay’s ex-girlfriend and Laia’s ex-boyfriend both claim they have nothing to do with this stalking business,” I said. “Which either means that one of them is a liar, or that the real culprit is to be found elsewhere.”
“I think it’s the parents,” said Dooley. “They obviously hate Jay for taking their girl away from them, and they’re trying to make her give him up.”
“It’s possible,” Odelia conceded. She checked her clock. “We better leave Mr. and Mrs. Twine for tomorrow, though.”
I eyed that can of cat food with a distinct sense of relish. It was the cheap store brand kind of stuff, but it still looked tasty enough.“Excellent idea,” I murmured.
CHAPTER 8
[Êàðòèíêà: img_2]
Brutus wasn’t in the best mood he could have been. Harriet had him paw-painting, which apparently was a new technique, reminiscent of finger-painting, something young humans excelled at, and it was taking a toll on his peace of mind.
In general he didn’t mind Harriet’s capricious nature, or even the fact that she got these weird brainstorms from time to time and insisted on carrying them out with or without his assistance, but he drew the line at making an absolute and complete fool of himself, as he was sure he was doing now!
“Paw-painting, if you please,” he murmured darkly to himself. Once more he dabbed a paw into one of the many buckets of paint Harriet had asked Gran to put at her disposal and applied it to the large piece of paper Harriet had positioned on the lawn for the purpose of furthering her art.
“Not bad, Brutus!” Harriet yelled from the sidelines. “A little more to the right. Now just draw a straight line all the way… astraight line, Brutus! That’s crooked!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “It’s not so easy to draw a straight line!” he said, a little louder. And definitely when you didn’t have the overview, like Harriet.
She’d taken position on a chair and was having a bird’s eye view, so to speak.
“I don’t think I like what you’re doing, Brutus,” she now yelled as she watched him with a touch of dubiousness. “Those greens and those reds don’t mix!”