“Rufus doesn’t look very happy either,” I remarked therefore.
“I saw him this morning. He complained that Harriet has been hounding him.”
“Hounding him?” I asked with a laugh. “How can a cat hound a dog?”
“I don’t know but that’s what he said. He didn’t have a lot of time to talk, because he had to join Marcie for his morning walk.”
“Odd,” I said, but then shrugged it off.
We walked out just when Odelia and Chase arrived home, and they seemed to have decided to follow our example, for they also joined us outside, only whereas we stretched out on the smooth lawn, enjoying the cool feel of the grass tickling our bellies, our humans stretched out on the lawn chairs, a cooling glass of some fruity liquid in hand, complete with straws and all.
“So I talked to the people at Spindler,” said Chase, “and they claim that Carl was one of their best customers.”
“Oh, the dating app people?” said Odelia.
“They say that Carl spent so much time on their app that in short order he’d become their number one customer.”
“And Zoe?”
“No dice, I’m afraid. Whoever Zoe is, they have no idea.”
“But she is on Spindler.”
“Oh, sure, but they take the privacy of their customers very seriously. Anyone can set up a profile with them. And there’s no way to know who’s behind the profile.”
“So Zoe could literally be anyone.”
“Pretty much.”
“Too bad. If she was there last night, she’s either a witness or a suspect.”
“As far as we can tell, the attack on Carl happened just before you arrived, so our main suspect is still Emma Hudson,” said Chase.
“I thought I was your main suspect?”
“You were never a suspect, babe. But the fact that your fingerprints are on that club needs to be explained away somehow. You’re absolutely sure you didn’t touch it?”
“Absolutely sure,” she confirmed.
“Then it remains a mystery,” said Chase with a frown as he took a sip from his glass. “So let’s go over this one more time. Emma Hudson had opportunity, means and motive, but frankly I don’t like her for this. I have a feeling she’s covering for the real culprit.”
“Another member of the Hampton Heisters,” said Odelia, nodding. “I have the same impression.”
“And then of course there’s Erica Barn. She most definitely had motive, and she could easily have dropped by the house—she knew the way—gotten into an argument with her soon-to-be ex-husband and knocked him out when his back was turned.”
“Could be,” Odelia allowed.
“But did she?”
“That is the big question.”
They were both silent for a moment, as they contemplated this, then Odelia said,“Some guy was filming Max and Dooley today. Following them around everywhere.”
“A stalker?”
“Looks like. He was even telling them how they’re spies for me, and how they go around collecting information all over town and delivering it to me.”
“That’s worrying. What did he look like?”
“Chubby round-faced individual. Red ball cap on his head. Isn’t that right, Max?”
“Exactly right,” I told her from my position on the lawn. “He was very brazen about it, too. Kept shoving that phone into our faces and wouldn’t stop filming, even after I brought out the old claws.”
“Max threatened him with his claws,” Odelia translated, “and he still wouldn’t stop filming.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” suddenly Chase burst out, then got up in a fluid motion, and bellowed, “Hey, you!”
“Oh, hi,” said the individual he was addressing. And lo and behold: it was our stalker! This time he was hiding in the bushes nearby, filming our entire conversation!
“What the hell!” Chase cried as he joined the stalker with three long-legged strides, then took him by the collar and pretty much dragged him out of those bushes.
“Owowow!” the stalker cried. “Don’t hurt me, officer!”
“So you know I’m a cop. What else do you know?”
The guy grinned.“I know that your wife can talk to cats, and that her cats can talk to her, that’s what I know. And I’ve got it all on my phone. And this is going to make for one very interesting vlog!”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Chase as he tightened his grip on the guy.
“Hey, do you want me to file a complaint about police brutality, dude? Let go of me!”
But Chase didn’t let go. Instead he squeezed a little harder. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do to a person I caught trespassing in my backyard,” Chase growled, dragging the man’s face close to his. “Who are you and what the hell are you up to?”
“My name is Frank Beaver and I run Beaver’s Cleaver, only the most incisive and popular vlog in Hampton Cove.”
“If you’re so popular, why is it I’ve never heard of you?”
“Yet. You haven’t heard of me yet. But once I post this particular vlog, I’ll be famous—world famous, in fact!”
“You’re not going to post any vlogs,” said Chase. “What you are going to do is apologize to my wife, and then you’re going to hand me your phone and I’m going to delete what you just filmed.”
“That won’t do you any good,” said the guy.
“And why is that?”
“Because all of my vlogs are automatically synced to the cloud.”
“Then I’m going to ask you to delete your stuff in the cloud.”
“No way, dude.”
Chase now lifted the guy up from the ground, his feet kicking the air like in a Hanna-Barbera cartoon, and brought him nose to nose with him.“I’m not asking, ‘dude.’ I’m telling you: delete all of your stuff. Now.”
“Or what? You’re going to hit me? That’ll make another great vlog: local cop charged with police brutality.”
“You’re still trespassing,” said Chase. “And I’m not just a cop, I’m also a private citizen. And I don’t like it when people come into my backyard and start filming my wife!”
“Look, this is a story that’s just too good to ignore,” said the guy. “Local reporter who gets all of her clues and her stories from her cats? That’s just great, dude!”
“You’re going to forget you ever laid eyes on my wife, or her cats, and you’re going to get out of here and crawl back into your cave, or your mom’s basement, cause if you don’t…”
The guy grinned.“I know my rights. You can’t make me do anything.”
Chase looked over to Odelia, who nodded. Reluctantly, Chase returned the vlogger to terra firma. Immediately the guy held out his hand.“Give me back my phone,” he said.
“Where did you get the idea to follow me and my cats around?” asked Odelia.
“An anonymous tip.”
“I’m going to hang on to your phone for now,” said Chase.
“Suit yourself. Like I said, I’ve got the whole thing locked in the cloud, ready to upload to my YouTube channel at a moment’s notice. Well, after I do some minor editing, that is.”
“You’re not seriously considering posting this stuff, are you?” asked Odelia.
“Oh, absolutely. Story like this? It’s going to go viral, dude.”
“It’s also going to make my life very difficult,” Odelia pointed out.
Frank Beaver shrugged. Clearly he wasn’t too concerned about that.
“Don’t post it, okay?” said Odelia.
“I won’t post it if you promise to give me an exclusive interview and explain to my viewers how you manage to talk to your cats. And I want to interview your cats, too, with you supplying the translation.”
“That is never going to happen,” said Chase.
“Then I’m very sorry,” said the vlogger.
“You can’t do this,” Odelia said.
“Look on the bright side: you’ll soon be America’s most famous small-town reporter.”
And as the guy walked away, giving me and Dooley two thumbs up, he had a big grin on his face the Cheshire cat would have been proud of.