“Um, because I’m a great fan of the Kenspeckles?”
“Of course you are. You’re a disgrace to the feline species, Max. You and your friends. You have sold your soul for a can of cat food and a pat on the head. It’s disgusting.” She hopped from the sun lounger and stalked off.
“Wait!” I cried. “What about a big, juicy piece of raw meat?!”
She halted in her tracks and looked back. “What about it?”
“I, um, I’ve got one that has your name on it.” No, I didn’t.
She licked her lips and I could see she was torn between her reluctance to help us out and her desire for a nice piece of raw meat. “Tell me more.”
I darted a pleading look at Brutus and he rolled his eyes. He knew just as well as me that I didn’t have any meat to offer. “Chicken wings,” he said reluctantly. “You can have one of my chicken wings.”
“Go on.”
He darted a dirty look at me. “And I’ll throw in a couple chicken necks.”
She stalked back to us. “Keep talking, fat boy.”
Brutus growled something at the back of his throat. I gave him a poke.
“Chicken liver,” he said. “Chase knows how much I like chicken liver.”
“I’m starting to like you more and more, fatso. Don’t stop.”
He was shaking his head now, giving me a death stare.
“Just think how happy Chase will be when I solve this murder,” I said.
“You solve this murder? I solve this murder,” he growled. He cut his eyes to Clarice. “Raw, blood-red steak. Straight from the best butcher in town.”
Clarice’s upper lip curled up into a feral snarl. “You’re now officially my new best friend. And where can I find all this good stuff?”
Brutus gave Clarice his address, which was actually Uncle Alec’s address, since Chase was still living with him. It was taking him some time to find a place of his own in town. Not that he minded. Chief Alec was a widower, so the men had the house to themselves and were reliving their bachelor days.
“You never told us you ate steak,” I told Brutus.
“Why would I share my steak with you, Max?” Brutus asked. “It’s not exactly as if you rolled out the welcome mat when I arrived in town.”
Now it was my turn to narrow my eyes. “That’s because you’ve been trying to take over this town from day one.”
He shrugged. “Just sharing my worldly wisdom with you local yokels.”
“Brutus has offered me some of his meat,” said Harriet. “It’s delish.”
“Of course it is,” Dooley murmured, directing a pleading look at the sky.
“So do you want to know about this murder or not?” asked Clarice.
“Yes, we do,” I said.
“I saw the murder,” said Clarice. “I saw the whole thing.”
“And?” Harriet asked excitedly. “Who did it?”
“No idea. The killer was covered in a long black robe.”
“Like Severus Snape?” asked Dooley, who was a big Harry Potter fan.
Clarice blinked. “I have no idea who that is. All I know is that I couldn’t see the killer’s face, as he or she was wearing a black mask of some kind.”
“Probably so they wouldn’t get blood all over them,” said Brutus. When we stared at him, he added, “What? Cutting off a head is a bloody business.”
I didn’t want to know how he knew. He, Uncle Alec and Chase probably watched too many horror movies. Or football games. They can get bloody.
“It was pretty gruesome,” Clarice said, which surprised me. A lot.
"Oh, I can imagine," said Harriet commiseratingly. "Just tell us everything, Clarice. You'll feel so much better. It'll be like therapy."
Clarice gave Harriet her best glare, but the prospect of raw meat was still more enticing than the inconvenience of having to put up with Harriet. “The killer first held some kind of rag to Shana and her husband’s faces, and then…” She closed her eyes, reliving the horror. “Then the sick bastard chopped off her head with a meat cleaver. I couldn’t watch. The worst part? That stupid dog just lay there. Instead of defending his master, he simply took it all in. Just goes to show dogs are the stupidest creatures on the planet.”
We all stared at Kane, who looked back at us, his tongue lolling. The moment he caught sight of five cats lounging by the pool, he blew a gasket. He jumped from Shayonne’s arms and came running straight at us.
Arf, arf, arf.
“Run!” I yelled.
Arf, arf, arf.
I set off in the direction of the garden, hoping to find a tree high enough to escape this hairy monster. But instead of coming after me, he produced the sweetest sound in the world: the sound of a dog squealing in pain. When I looked back, I saw Kane racing toward the house, his tail between his legs.
“What happened?” I asked.
In response, Clarice showed me her paw. There was blood on her claws.
“Let’s just say he won’t bother us again,” she said with a nasty grin.
Chapter 6
Odelia goggled at Shayonne. “Shana was sleeping with your husband?”
Shayonne nodded. She’d been momentarily distracted when Kane first jumped from her arms to chase Max and his friends, then raced into the house after getting his nose clawed by the ugliest cat Odelia had ever seen.
“Shana always had a craving for male attention. Even as a teen she tried to seduce every man she met. The fact that she was married to one of the greatest men alive apparently wasn’t enough for her. She had to seduce my man, too. And Dion is weak, so weak he fell for her fatal charm.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “That must have been a great shock.”
“It was,” said Shayonne. She blinked. “Can we do this again?”
“Come again?”
“No, do this again. The big reveal. I feel I can do better.”
Only now did Odelia notice the cameraman filming them.
“Um, what’s going on?” she asked, a little perplexed.
Shayonne held up a finger while she closed her eyes. “Just a second. I wanna get this right.” When she opened her eyes again, Odelia saw there were tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. “Shana craved men,” she said in a dramatic voice. “She was a natural born seductress who had to devour every male she met. The fact that she was married to one of the greatest singers of all time didn’t stop her from hitting on my man. And Dion fell for it.”
“Great take,” said the cameraman, chewing gum. He was a chunky guy with a pasty face, patches of red hair peeping from under his Lakers cap.
“I still feel like I’m missing something,” said Shayonne. “Oh, wait. I think I’ve got it.” Once again, she pressed tears from her eyes, and said in a deep, sultry voice, “Dion is a weak, deeply flawed individual. And he fell for my sister.”
“Love it,” said the cameraman. “That’s a keeper.”
“Thanks,” said Shayonne, wiping away her tears.
“How-how do you do that?” asked Odelia, fascinated.
“It’s a trick,” said Shayonne. “I think of dead puppies. Works every time.”
“Dead puppies. Huh. Interesting.”
“Yoo-hoo! Alejandro! Over here!”
She watched as a curly-haired man with olive skin walked up. He was the spitting image of Antonio Banderas, and oozed charm and male charisma.
“This is the director of the show,” Shayonne said. “Alejandro Salanova.” Odelia expected Shayonne to introduce her, but apparently she wasn’t important enough. “Have you filmed the body?” she asked, sounding more like a producer than a mourning sister.
“Not yet,” said Alejandro. “The cops won’t let us. They say it’s a crime scene and we’re not allowed inside until they remove the body.”
“Crap,” said Shayonne, then turned to Odelia. “You’re a cop, right? Can’t you arrange for Alejandro and his crew to shoot the body and the head?”
“I, um…” Odelia was lost for words. She’d known the Kenspeckles had a show to run, but she’d figured this tragedy would put a stop to all of that. “Aren’t you going to cancel the show now that your sister… is dead?”