“Well, that’s because President Wilcox doesn’t officially reside in Hampton Cove,” Odelia told the caller. “Officially he lives in Washington. At the White House.”
“Yes, but his heart has always been in Hampton Cove. He loves it out here, you know—loves it. And if it weren’t for this president thing, I’m sure he would have topped that list.”
“There are some pretty rich people on our annual rich list, Mr. Paunch. Some of them probably a lot richer than your friend.”
“Poppycock. Van is the richest man in the Hamptons. The richest man in the state, even. I’m looking at his bank statement right now and I can see he’s got twenty billion dollars to his name. Twenty billion dollars, Miss Poole! Who can beat that? If that doesn’t take him straight to the top of your list you’re not the reporter I took you for.”
“If you’re sure about this, Mr. Paunch, I could always print a new version of the list.”
“Do that, Miss Poole. Because I am sure about this. As Van’s best friend, you can trust me on that. In fact you can trust me on anything I have to say about him. Van and I are so close you wouldn’t believe. We’re like brothers. Twins. Now don’t let me keep you. I’m sure you want to get started on that new rich list straightaway, Van’s name at the very top.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Paunch.”
“Goodbye, Miss Poole.”
And as she put her phone away, she was still wondering who Otto Paunch’s voice reminded her of.
Chapter 7
Vesta got up and looked at her handiwork with a nod of appreciation. Odelia’s garden was a mess, but with a little bit of work, a dash of love, and a lot of manure, she could turn it into a work of art. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Tex’s face when he glanced over the hedge into his daughter’s garden one fine morning and saw stretched before his stupefied gaze the most beautiful garden in all of Hampton Cove.
That would teach him to kick his own mother-in-law to the curb!
Not that he’d actually kicked her to the curb, but those were tiny details she didn’t like to concern herself with. And that’s when she saw the lone figure of Dooley sneaking through the hedge in the direction of Tex and Marge’s backyard.
“Hello there,” she said with a reproachful glint in her eye. “Now where do you think you’re going, young cat?”
Dooley looked up, two paws on Tex’s property and two paws on what Vesta now considered her own. “Um… home?” he said, an expression of confusion on his furry face.
“You come back here right this instance, Dooley,” snapped Vesta. “Your home is with me, and since I live on this side of the hedge now there’s no reason for you to go over there anymore.” She accentuated the word ‘there’ with a wave of the hand and a look of distaste.
“But… my bowl is over there,” said Dooley. “And my litter box. And my couch.”
“Not anymore it’s not. I’ll buy you a new litter box. And a new bowl.” Well, she would tell Odelia to buy them, at any rate. On the small pension she received she couldn’t afford to spend money like water on such trivial stuff like litter boxes and cat bowls. Not since Tex had cut up her credit cards and thwarted her plans to become a millionaire heiress.
Dooley retracted his paws and sat on his haunches for a moment. “But… I don’t want to be here, Gran. Nobody here loves me.” He said it in such a sad tone that even Vesta, whose soul was callused after having watched General Hospital, The Young and the Restless, The Bold and the Beautiful and Days of Our Lives all of her life, not to mention listening to countless sob stories from Tex’s patients as they booked appointments, felt her heart constrict.
“What do you mean, nobody loves you around here? I love you. Isn’t that enough for you?”
Dooley’s eyes widened. “You love me, Gran?”
“Of course I do. I’m your human, aren’t I? And you’re my cat, aren’t you?”
“I guess I am,” said Dooley. “I just figured… you don’t like me curling up at your feet anymore. And this morning when I tried to snuggle you pushed me away.” He didn’t say it in a reproachful tone. More like a tone that indicated he wasn’t all that surprised that anyone would push him away.
“Oh, Dooley, Dooley,” said Vesta, picking up the gray fluffy cat and cradling him in her arms. “You have to understand that I’ve been under a great deal of stress lately. What with being kicked out of my own home and my own family turning against me. It’s enough to drive any woman to distraction. And if I haven’t been very nice to you it’s because sometimes humans get so wrapped up in their own problems that they kinda forget about their responsibilities. Like my responsibility to turn this crappy yard into a new Versailles. Or to make sure my granddaughter doesn’t get involved with some impostor or evil twin. Or take good care of the only baby I’ve got left,” she added, giving Dooley a squeeze.
“Who is that baby?” asked Dooley.
“You, of course! You’re my baby, Dooley. In fact you’re all I’ve got left.”
“You’re all I’ve got left, too, Gran,” said Dooley softly.
“Why, you’ve got Max, haven’t you? I’d forget about Harriet and Brutus if I were you—they live over there,” she said, gesturing to the hedge. “Over on the dark side. But Max is your friend, isn’t he?”
“No, he’s not,” said Dooley sadly. “I asked him if I could stay with him and he turned me down flat. Milo is right. Max doesn’t care one hoot about me. He probably never did.”
“Who’s Milo?” asked Gran.
“He’s the new guy. Bristly white hair? Pink nose?”
“Oh, right,” said Gran vaguely. Odelia was always taking in strays. Hard to keep up. “Did you just say this Milo told you Max doesn’t care about you?”
“Uh-huh. Well, he didn’t say it straight out. He kinda suggested it when he said a real friend would have invited me to stay in his home a long time ago.”
Gran was frowning at Dooley. “Sounds like a suspicious character to me, Dooley. Like Dr. John Branson, the identical twin of Dr. Richard Quartermaine, who turned out to be a basket case and ended up attacking his brother’s wife with that bomb that time. He got sent to an asylum but managed to escape by switching places with his twin.” She nodded pensively. “To be completely honest with you, I’m not sure he’s not to be distrusted.”
Dooley blinked, visibly enthralled with this bit of sage advice. “Okay,” he said finally.
Feeling she’d dispensed enough wisdom for one morning, she poured Dooley from her arms, then suddenly had a bright idea. “You know what I’m going to do, Dooley?”
“What?” asked Dooley.
“I’m taking a leaf from your book.”
“My book? What book?”
But Vesta wasn’t listening. “I’m going over there to confront the guy. I think the time for dillydallying has come to an end and now it’s time to act. Like Nurse Rebecca Webb when she told Jason she’d finally had enough of his affair with her devious half-sister and told him to choose. Of course that was before he was killed in that plane crash, but no matter.”
And with a hint of steel glinting behind her glasses, she stalked into the house. Time to tell that no-good son-in-law of hers what was what and find out where his priorities lay.
Chapter 8
I saw Dooley take a nap on the bench on the deck and was just about to go over there and try and patch things up between us when Milo gave me a tap on the head.
I hate it when cats pat me on the head. Still, remembering Harriet and Brutus’s words, I managed a polite smile. “Hey, Milo. What have you been up to?”