“I’m a tough guy.”
“No, you’re not. You’re a sweetheart, and some cats don’t dig sweethearts. One day you’ll find the right cat, but that cat won’t be Harriet, I’m afraid.”
“I’m afraid you might be right,” he said in a choked voice.
I patted him on the back.“You’ll get over it. Lots of cats in the world.”
He sniffled some more. “So what did you and Brutus talk about up there?”
“Oh, you know. This and that.”
He gave me a sad look.“So you two are friends now, huh? Besties?”
I laughed.“I don’t know what we are, but I’m pretty sure we’ll never be besties.” I gave him a light shove. “You’re my bestie, Dooley. You know that.”
He nodded and licked his nose.“At least there’s that.”
“Oh, and by the way, thanks for saving me from that tree. If not for you I would probably still be up there.”
“Serious question, Max. And I want you to be honest with me.”
I frowned, prepared for Dooley’s deepest thoughts. “Shoot.”
“Were you ever tempted to take a bite out of Brutus?”
I stared at him.“What? Of course not. Why would I want to bite Brutus?”
“Let me rephrase that. Did he try to take a bite out of you?”
“Of course not! Brutus may be a lot of things but he’s not a cannibal.”
He nodded seriously.“Oh, I see. So you ate bark, then?”
“No, I didn’t eat bark. I was too nervous to eat. I was stuck in a tree.”
“How can you be too worried to eat? I’m never too worried to eat.”
That was true. Dooley loves to eat. Even now, when he was down over Harriet and Brutus getting back together, he was sniffing at an apple someone had dropped. And I’m pretty sure Dooley doesn’t even like apples.
Just then, a car skidded to a stop at the curb. The door opened and Odelia stepped out.“Hop in, you two. We’re going back to the Kenspeckles.”
Dooley and I did as we were told. I saw that Chase was behind the wheel.
“Is this really necessary?” the burly cop asked.
“Cats love to ride around in cars,” Odelia said, slamming the door shut.
“They do?” Chase put the car in gear. “I thought that was dogs.”
“Nope. Cats love cars. They like to stick their heads out the window and flap their tongues in the breeze.”
“Pretty sure that’s dogs.”
She cocked her head.“Look, who are you going to believe, Chase? Crazy cat lady or some stupid internet site?”
He shrugged.“If you say so. Buckle up, you guys. It’s Kenspeckle time.”
“Again?” I asked. “I thought we were through with that place.”
“Dion Dread didn’t do it,” Odelia said, and she did not look happy.
“So who did?” I asked.
She shrugged.“That’s for us to find out.”
Chase glanced over.“Are you talking to your cats now? Is that what you’re doing?”
“Uh-huh. I told you, Chase. They’re intelligent creatures.”
He shook his head.“Youare a crazy cat lady, lady.”
He didn’t know the half of it.
Chapter 19
Odelia and Chase were back for round two, but it was obvious from the moment they arrived at the gate they weren’t exactly welcome. And why would they be? Yesterday they’d arrested Dion Dread, kept him to cool his expensively shod heels for one night and then cut him loose. The word about Dion’s treatment at the hands of the Hampton Cove police must have spread, and the Kenspeckles were closing ranks and protecting their own.
Security had been beefed up, and they had a hard time making it past the gate. Two burly guards held vicious-looking Doberman Pinschers on short leashes, anxious to sic them on anyone who gave them the side-eye.
Finally, Chase’s beat-up pickup rumbled through the gate and up the driveway. He parked in front of the house. Another day in paradise.
“I have a feeling we’re not as welcome as we were yesterday,” Odelia said as she let Max and Dooley out of the car. At least nobody could prevent the two cats from snooping around. She just hoped there weren’t any Dobermans around. Even if there were, Max and Dooley could take care of themselves. Plenty of trees on the property.
“Yeah, I think they want this investigation over with,” Chase said as they circled the house and headed to the back.
They found Shayonne and Shalonda by the pool, Shayonne engrossed in Star Magazine and Shalonda in Us Weekly. They both had cotton balls between their toes. They were reading with sunglasses perched on their rhinoplastic noses, their surgically enhanced boobs practically popping from tiny bikini tops. They didn’t even look up when they passed.
Chase had set up interviews with the crew, and they headed for the guest house, which sat fifty yards from the main house. It was a backyard bungalow. Slate gray weatherboard with a nice porch. Big enough for a small family. Or a television crew.
On a concrete slab next to the house, a makeshift outdoor gym was constructed, and Stanbury Boa was on his back on a power bench, lifting a massive barbell. The veins in his neck stood out like cords as he bench-pressed the iron, his arms pumping up and down like pistons. He had a smoothly shaved head and wore a red bandana, a pair of American flag swim trunks and a lot of attitude.
“Hi there,” Odelia said pleasantly. “Can we ask you a few questions? Is now a convenient time for you, Mr. Boa?”
He merely growled something and continued pushing out his reps.
Chase stepped up.“Hampton Cove police, buddy. Where were you the night Shana Kenspeckle was murdered?”
Boa racked the barbell and sat up, dusting chalk from his hands.“I was right here, guarding the property,” he growled, hitting them with his best glare, the one he probably hoped would land him a role next to Vin Diesel in the nextFast& Furious movie.
“If you were so busy guarding the property how come you didn’t catch the killer?” asked Chase.
The bodyguard’s eyes darkened. He seemed foreign born, judging from his accent. “I was guarding the property against outside intruders. How was I to know that one of them—” He gestured to the main house, where Dion had just walked out and stood stretching. “—would kill one of their own?”
“So you think one of the Kenspeckles killed Shana?” asked Odelia.
“No one came onto the property. At night security around this place is tight. I see to that.”
“Have you heard any rumors who might have done it?” asked Chase.
“I’ve heard no such rumors. But you may want to interview the sisters. They hated Shana’s guts.”
“And why was that?”
He shifted his massive shoulder in a shrug.“Sibling rivalry. They couldn’t stand that Shana was more successful than they were. More popular.”
“What about the crew?” asked Chase.
“You should talk to Alejandro,” said the giant. “He would do anything to get his show to the top of the ratings again. Last week I heard him tell Burr that he was praying for a murder.”
“He said that?” asked Odelia.
“Yes, he did. He said only a juicy murder would get people to watch the show again. They were on the verge of being canceled.” He nodded curtly. “I think that’s enough motive for murder, don’t you, Detective?”
With these words, he lay back down and picked up the huge barbell again. With an animal-like grunt, he launched into another grueling set.
“Wow, I wouldn’t like to get into a fight with that guy,” Odelia said as she tripped after Chase. She had to take two strides for every one of his.
“Pfft. He’s all show. I’ll bet those muscles aren’t even real.”
“They looked pretty real to me.”
“Trust me. It’s all steroids, growth hormone and synthol injections.”
Sounded like someone was a little envious. Then again, Chase didn’t have to be jealous of Boa the man mountain. The cop was built like a Hulk himself.
The guest house was tastefully decorated. Like the main house, white was the dominant color, the floors a warm mahogany in contrast. They’d stepped into the foyer and the man they’d come to see was comfortably seated on a white leather couch, reading a copy of Men’s Fitness. Alejandro was wearing a yellow polo shirt and beige slacks and looked like a million bucks. When he got up to greet them, he did so with outstretched hands and a killer smile. He kissed them on the cheeks. Twice. Surprised, Chase touched the spot. Bet that hadn’t happened to him when he interviewed gangbangers in the Bronx.