I vowed, however, that the moment she turned her back I was going to do some serious schooling of my own. I like to run a tight ship when she’s not around, and I intended to keep it that way.
Chapter 3
Odelia could have stayed with the little cuties all morning, but unfortunately she had to go to work. By then, Chase was up, his alarm clock having launched into a cheerful rendition of Pharrell Williams’sHappy, and the hunky cop had woken up with a groan.
When she arrived at the top of the stairs, she was greeted by the pleasant scene of Chase sitting up in bed and stretching. The man was built like a tank, and even though she’d already seen him sans T-shirt many times since their first meeting, it was still a sight for sore eyes. Her eyes weren’t sore now, though. Instead, they were sparkling.
“What’s with the racket?” asked Chase now as she stepped into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed to feast her eyes on the man’s perfect physique from up close.
“Oh, just three kittens left in a box on my doorstep,” she explained.
He did a double take.“Wait, what now?”
She nodded.“Yup. Someone left three kittens outside, with a note asking me to take care of them. Oh, Chase, you should see them. They’re just the cutest little babies!”
“Kittens,” he said, as if she’d just announced the world was ending. “Three of them.”
“I would have brought them up but I didn’t know if you were awake yet.”
He was awake now, that much was obvious. Awake and not entirely happy about this turn of events. He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them again, as if hoping this had all been a bad dream.“So you’re telling me you’ve decided to adopt three more cats?”
“I haven’t adopted them,” she specified. “Someone left them on my doorstep.”
He laughed an incredulous laugh.“You’re not seriously thinking about keeping them, are you?”
She experienced a slight diminution of the love and affection she felt for him from the moment he’d walked into her life. “I haven’t decided yet. Why? Don’t you like kittens?”
Chase hesitated. He could probably sense he’d just stepped on a potential landmine that was about to go off at the slightest provocation. Ever so carefully, he said, “You already have four cats. Three more makes seven. That’s seven cats. Four plus three. Seven.”
“Your grasp on basic math is astounding, Chase,” she said. “Yes, seven cats, divided over two homes, makes three-and-a-half cats per home. I know people that have a dozen cats.” She didn’t add that she personally felt that a dozen cats was a little ambitious for any homeowner, even if they adored the furry creatures. She wanted to gauge Chase’s response.
He blinked and gulped.“A dozen.”
She nodded cheerfully.“A dozen cats. And a happy home it is, too.”
“A dozen cats,” he muttered, and started to shake his head. Then he paused mid-shake, and gave her an odd look. “Today isn’t April Fool’s, is it?”
Her lips tightened.“No, today isn’t April Fool’s. And I don’t understand what the big deal is. Seven cats is nothing. Besides, like I said, I haven’t decided if I’m going to keep them or not.” Though she was starting to lean towards adopting them if Chase kept this up.
“Think about it,” he said, holding up an admonishing hand. “Think hard. I mean, there might be other families that want to adopt a cat. In fact there may be three families out there, extremely keen to adopt a cute little kitty and you hogging all three of them would put those families in a state of deep, profound sadness. Don’t be a hogger, babe.”
He had a point, of course. She couldn’t very well hog all the cats in Hampton Cove. That simply wouldn’t be fair.
And she would have discussed the ins and outs of cat adoption in more detail if Chase’s phone hadn’t developed suicidal tendencies and leaped from the nightstand when it started buzzing frantically. He picked it up and grunted, “It’s your uncle,” then answered by growling, “Yeah, Alec.” He listened for a moment, then raised his eyes to Odelia, and nodded. “I’ll bethere in five.” When he disconnected, he gave her a quizzical look. “Mh.”
“What is it?” She knew that look. Something had happened. Something bad.
“It’s Jeb Pott,” he said, scratching his ear.
“The actor? What about him?”
“He’s just been arrested.”
“Arrested? What did he do this time? Joyriding? Drunk and disorderly?” The famous actor was, in spite of his age, still a bad boy personified, and had been wreaking havoc across town for the past couple of weeks now. If he wasn’t speeding through downtown Hampton Cove, spooking senior citizens, he could be found passed out in the local park, having succumbed to an abundance of vodka or some other intoxicant, liquid or powdered.
But Chase was slowly shaking his head.“This time he’s really done it.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense, Chase. What did he do?”
Jeb Pott was one of her favorite actors—possiblythe favorite actor of every woman her age—and to watch him self-destruct had hurt and annoyed Odelia a great deal.
“He’s murdered his ex-wife. Your uncle just found her body in his lodge, the knife in his bed, her blood on his hands.”
Chapter 4
I’d joined Odelia as she drove out to the house where Jeb Pott lived, and so had Dooley, my best friend and part-time housemate. Chase had taken his own pickup and was leading the way, with Odelia following close behind.
“So who is this Jeb Pott?” asked Dooley now.
“He’s a world-famous actor,” said Odelia.
She looked unhappy at this turn of events, and I didn’t wonder. She loves Jeb Pott and has seen every picture the man has ever made, from his humble arthouse movie beginnings to his blockbuster turn as swashbuckler in the remake ofCaptain Blood. The man isn’t merely a star. He’s a megastar. Or at least was, until his recent disastrous divorce.
“We’ve seen him, remember, Dooley?” I said. “He played Captain Blood inCaptain Blood. They call him the new Errol Flynn.”
“Oh, right,” said Dooley, though it was obvious he had no idea what I was talking about. The sight of three kittens cavorting about our living room had startled Dooley as much as it had me, and this had shortened his attention span which now made him tune out to some extent. Dooley’s mind is such that it can only hold two ideas at the same time, and right now it was overrun with images of kittens dangling from the curtains, swinging from the ceiling lights, cavorting on the kitchen counter, and peeing in Odelia’s flowerpots.
“I like him,” said Odelia. “I like him a lot. I think he’s one of the most talented actors of his generation, or any generation, for that matter. He’s always been one of my favorites, until…” She dug her teeth into her lower lip.
“Until the divorce,” I said in a low voice.
She nodded and gripped her steering wheel a little tighter.“Until the divorce,” she said quietly.
Jeb Pott’s career could be divided into two distinct periods: the slow rise to the absolute pinnacle of fame and glory, and his post-divorce period, when his star power had begun to wane and he’d gone from hero to zero in the space of a few short weeks.
His ex-wife Camilla Kirby had filed for divorce on the grounds of domestic violence, cruelty and substance abuse and had shown the proof by parading in front of the world media with a big purple bruise on her cheek, the result of an encounter with Jeb’s fist.
Jeb had claimed foul play and said she’d made up both bruise and abuse, but by then it was too late, the actor’s reputation irreparably damaged, and turned into a pariah by the same Tinseltown that had hailed him as its most popular star only a few short weeks before.
“Oh, how fickle fame is,” I said softly.
“So what happened to this Jeb Pott?” asked Dooley.
“He allegedly beat his wife, and now he allegedly murdered her,” I said.