Odelia halted on the bottom step and looked down at Dooley. “Chase has a new cat?”
“Used to belong to his mother, just like Brutus,” I explained. I gave her a worried look. She nodded. She understood Dooley and I didn’t like Brutus. And if this new cat was anything like him, we were in for another nasty surprise.
“I’m sure Diego will prove to be a perfectly nice cat,” she said.
Odelia is always the picture of optimism. For her the glass is always half-full. You have to admire that about her, of course. Then again, sometimes the glass is half-empty. Or completely empty. Like in the case of Brutus.
Odelia made her way to the door and peeked through the peephole.
“Oh,” she said, surprised, and quickly turned and looked in the hallway mirror. “Ugh,” she said, and finger-combed her hair and checked her eyes for sleep gunk. Then she heaved a resigned sigh and opened the door. Odelia’s uncle Alec stood on the mat, along with Chase Kingsley, who was holding up a small orange cat.
“That’s Diego!” hissed Brutus.
“Surprise,” said Chase with a smile, and handed the cat to Odelia.
Chapter Two
Odelia took the cat from Chase. She was feeling a little awkward. If only she’d known they were coming over, she could have splashed some water on her face, sprayed some deodorant on her pits and dressed in something a little more appropriate than her Betty Boop pajamas.
“Sleeping in?” asked her uncle Alec with a grin as he stepped inside.
“I must have slept through my alarm,” she said. “What time is it?”
“Seven thirty,” said Chase, following her uncle in.
“Oh.” Her alarm had been set for eight, so it wasn’t that she was late. They were early. “So what brings you here?” She held up the cat. “Showing off this little guy?”
“He’s my mom’s,” Chase said apologetically. He wasn’t dressed in his pajamas but in jeans, a plaid shirt and boots. With his slightly tousled dark hair, clear blue eyes and chiseled features he was like an all-out assault of manliness. A lot to take in before breakfast.
“So… you want me to take care of him for a while?” she guessed.
He grimaced. “Thing is, since Brutus spends more time over here than at your uncle’s place, I just figured you might have room for another one?”
“Sure,” she said, setting down the cat. Max and Dooley looked dumbfounded, and Brutus downright hostile, but she didn’t care. They’d just have to learn to get along. Just like she and Chase had done. When the cop had first arrived in town, he hadn’t liked that Odelia occasionally got involved in her uncle’s police investigations. As a former NYPD detective, that kind of thing simply wasn’t done. Now, however, they got on just fine.
“We’re not here about the cat, honey,” Chief Alec said with a grimace.
Uh-oh. She knew that look. “Something happened, right? Something bad?”
“Afraid so,” said Chase. “Have you ever watched Niklaus Skad’s Kitchen Disasters?”
“Where he humiliates and destroys restaurant owners for entertainment purposes? I’ve seen it once or twice. Not my cup of tea.”
“Well, looks like someone didn’t like him.”
“Niklaus Skad was murdered? In Hampton Cove?”
“He was here to tape a segment of his show at Fry Me for an Oyster,” said Chase. “He was found this morning, stuck in the restaurant oven.”
“Completely cooked,” Uncle Alec added, shaking his head.
“Yikes. That’s a horrible way to go.” But also very apt, of course.
“We’re going out there right now,” said Chase. “So we figured you might want to tag along.”
She stared at him. Was he serious? Not all that long ago the mere thought that a reporter would tag along with him would have gotten him madder than a wet hen. And now he was actually inviting her to join him? He’d definitely had a change of heart. Then again, she’d helped him crack a few cases since they first met. And had even done him a personal favor by getting him absolved of a phony molestation charge hanging over his head.
Uncle Alec was grinning at her from behind Chase’s back, and gave her a wink. “Sure,” she said finally. “I’d love to come. Um… I need to change into something more appropriate first, though.”
Chase smiled. “Why? I love me some Betty Boop.”
“Me, too,” she said. “But it doesn’t really inspire confidence. People might think I’m a flake.”
“A cute flake,” Chase said, rocking back on his heels.
She gave him a curious glance. He was awfully cheerful this morning. Probably happy something was finally happening in Hampton Cove. For the former NYPD detective life in the small town was probably boring.
“If you’re gonna change you better do it now,” her uncle said, tapping his watch.
“Be back in a jiffy,” she said, and bounded up the stairs.
For the next fifteen minutes she showered, dressed and even took the time to apply some makeup. She might be about to meet lying suspects, heinous criminals and a very dead murder victim, but that didn’t mean she had to look like crap. And then there was Chase, of course. He might like her in her Betty Boop outfit, but she just knew she could do a whole lot better. Not that she wanted to impress him. Not her. Nah-uh.
“So why let me tag along?” she asked, scooting up the backseat of her uncle’s squad car while he put the car in gear and pulled away.
Chase turned to face her, putting his elbow on the headrest. “It’s like I told your uncle. You’ve got a knack for it, Odelia. I’ve never known anyone who’s got a knack for solving murders like you have. You’re a natural.”
“Apart from Jessica Fletcher,” her uncle said, keeping his eye on the road.
“Yes, well, your niece is a lot easier on the eyes than Jessica.”
Was he flirting with her? Not that she was complaining. “Thanks for the compliment,” she said. “Though I’m sure you’re just exaggerating.”
“About what?” asked her uncle with a twinkle in his eye. “The sleuthing thing or the easier on the eyes thing?”
“Both,” she said. “I mean, I just get lucky from time to time, I guess.”
“We both know luck’s got nothing to do with it,” said Chase. “You have a knack, Odelia, and I would be an idiot not to make good use of it.”
He gave her a penetrating look that sent her heart rate rocketing up.
“I’m glad you’re finally seeing things my way, Chase,” said Chief Alec. “It sure took you long enough.”
“Yes, well, where I come from civilians don’t butt into police investigations,” he said stubbornly, repeating his old line. “They just don’t,” he repeated when the chief shook his head and uttered a groan.
“Where you come from they don’t have girls like my niece,” Alec said.
“That’s true enough,” Chase agreed with another sly look at her.
“So what about this murder?” she asked, deciding to get this conversation out of the gutter. “What have you found out so far?”
Chase took a notebook from his shirt pocket. “Murder was reported by Erin Coka. She’s a waitress and was opening up the restaurant this morning. Said she thought the chef had forgotten to turn off the oven.”
“Who’s the chef?”
“Hendrik Serarols. So far hasn’t shown up for work.”
“Which is suspicious,” her uncle said with a nod.
“Who owns Fry Me for an Oyster?” She’d never been there, but had heard good things about it.
Chase read from his notebook again. “Brainard and Isabella Stowe. It’s their third restaurant. The previous two went belly-up. This one was a success.”
“A big success,” Uncle Alec confirmed. “Which is why it got the attention of Niklaus Skad. The man likes to attach his name to success stories.”
“And then tear them down,” Odelia said, remembering some snippets from Kitchen Disasters. The man was unrelenting and brutal. She wondered what had induced the Stowes to feature on his show. Then again, any publicity was good publicity, probably. She wasn’t a marketing expert, but being on TV was probably the best way of getting your name out there.