“Brutus doesn’t like all the fuss Gran makes,” said Dooley, who was riding in the backseat along with me. Gran and Scarlett, of course, were following behind in the little red Peugeot Gran likes to drive, though driving probably isn’t the right word for the kind of thing Gran does with a car. “And he doesn’t like all the murder business either.”
“All the murder business? As if we have to deal with murder so often.”
“Well, we have dealt with murder quite often in the recent past,” I said.
“Have we really?” said Odelia as she checked her GPS to make sure we were still going in the right direction. “I wasn’t aware that we had.”
“We’ve been involved with dozens of murders, Odelia,” I pointed out, “which is something of an oddity as there are only fifteen thousand people in Hampton Cove.”
“This place is turning into Cabot Cove,” said Dooley, nodding, and when we both gave him a curious glance, Odelia through the rearview mirror and me opting for the direct approach, he added, “Murder She Wrote? Jessica Fletcher’s hometown? There’s been so many murders over the years that Cabot Cove has turned into the murder capital of America. Though of course Cabot Cove is a fictional town and Hampton Cove is real.”
“I guess,” said Odelia doubtfully. Clearly she hadn’t thought that far. “Anyway, we’re here, you guys. Are you sure you want to come in? There’s going to be a lot of people.”
“Why wouldn’t we go in with you?” I asked.
“Well, after the traumatizing experience with Carl Strauss…”
“Oh, that,” I said, waving a dismissive paw. “I’m over that already, Odelia,” I assured her.
“Me, too!” Dooley piped up, though the thought of Carl Strauss’s golf club seemed to make my friend turn a little white around the nostrils—hard though it was to notice.
Odelia parked her car out in front of the large mansion where Katrina MacKney resides, and we all got out. Behind us, Gran had parked her car, and so we strode up to the front door, which was open, and where several police officers were milling about, proving Odelia’s point that the Hampton Cove police department was out in droves.
The Hampton Heisters were quickly turning into a real nuisance for our local law enforcement professionals, proving as elusive as the Scarlet Pimpernel, though presumably with more nefarious motives powering their burglarious efforts.
We moved inside, and quickly found our way to the library, which was the hub of activity. The famous soap opera star herself stood explaining her ordeal to anyone who would listen, which in her case were Chase, Uncle Alec, and a small contingent of the county coroner’s office, busily dusting the place for prints and generally collecting clues.
“Lady MacKney!” Gran gushed as she surged to the fore. “I’m your biggest fan!”
“And who are you?” asked the actress coldly, indicating the feeling wasn’t mutual.
“My name is Vesta Muffin, and I’m the head of the local neighborhood watch, and can I just tell you right now that the watch is doing everything in its power to catch these criminals and bring them to justice?”
“Well, you better work a little faster, Vesta Muffin, for if what Chief Lip just told me is true I’m already the sixth victim of these so-called Hampton Heisters. The sixth!”
It wasn’t immediately clear to me whether she was upset that she was only sixth on the list instead of first, or that she was simply upset to be on the list, period.
“What did they take?” asked Odelia.
“Everything! My jewels, money from the safe, all of my Daytime Emmy Awards, and plenty of memorabilia from a long and extremely successful career. Can you believe they even took several of my dresses? And my shoes! And my minks and stoles! And Coco’s collars—the diamond-studded ones, naturally. These people clearly have no shame!”
The woman was a diva, that much was obvious, and I had a feeling that this whole scene would soon make its way into a new storyline onGeneral Hospital.
“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Dooley gushed next to me.
“I take it you’re a fan, too?” I said.
“Oh, yes. Did you know she had a baby last month? And look how well she looks.”
“A baby? The woman is at least seventy.”
“Well, she did, and not only one but triplets. Though one was abducted by a Mexican drug cartel, and one turned out to be suffering from some terrible and very rare disease, and the third was adopted by her daughter, since she can’t have children of her own.”
“Who’s the father?” I asked, intrigued in spite of myself.
“The King of Belgium,” said Dooley promptly. “They met in the orphanage when they were children, but lost sight of each other for many years, until they were both wrongfully arrested when yachting in Saint-Tropez and met in the drunk tank.”
“As people do,” I murmured.
“And now they’re inseparable. At least until last week, when he was caught in the arms of a tennis pro. I didn’t even know the King of Belgium was into men, did you?”
“I didn’t even know Belgium had a king.” Or that a country named Belgium existed.
“So what are you going to do about this is what I want to know?” said the woman, giving Uncle Alec a jab in the chest.
“We’re going to find these people and we’re going to return the stuff they stole,” said Uncle Alec, though frankly he didn’t look all that convinced himself, to be honest.
“Do you have any idea who these people are?” the soap star demanded.
“The investigation is ongoing,” said Uncle Alec, a little lamely, I thought.
“Which means you have no idea,” she said imperiously, towering over the poor Chief.
“Well…”
The mayor of Hampton Cove, Charlene Butterwick, who’d also decided to come down to see what was going on, assured the diva that no stone would be left unturned in the pursuit of justice.
“Do you have CCTV?” asked Odelia.
“No, I don’t. I do have an alarm system, but obviously these people have a way of dealing with that, for I never got a peep from the thing—it’s an app on my phone.”
“Were you home when it happened?”
“No, thank God I wasn’t! I was having my nails done.”
Odelia turned to her husband.“Maybe that’s part of their MO. They follow their victims around, to make sure they’re not home.”
“It’s rare for burglars to break in during the daytime,” Chase explained to the stricken soap star.
“Well, they did. I arrived home to find the place turned upside down. Good thing poor Coco wasn’t home when it happened—I always take her along with me wherever I go.”
“And you don’t have any staff?” asked Gran, who’d been so star-struck she’d hardly spoken, which wasn’t her habit.
“I gave my staff the day off when I left for the salon.”
“So how did they know about that, I wonder,” said Odelia.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll find out,” said the star. She turned to Mayor Butterwick. “Can you give me your solemn word that you’ll find these crooks, Madam Mayor? Cause frankly I’m losing patience, and so is the rest of the community. Six breakins!”
“We’ll catch them,” said Charlene. “I have complete confidence in our Chief of Police.”
“Well, I hope you’re right,” said the woman dubiously.
A small white Bichon Frise had come tripping up and nodded to us in greeting. I had a feeling this might be Coco.“So you were out, too?” I asked.
“Yeah, I wasn’t here when it happened,” Coco confirmed. She was a soft-spoken mutt, and appeared nervous to be in the presence of so many people, which was a little odd for the dog of a television celebrity. She gave me a pleading look. “I hope you find these people. They took my favorite collar. The diamond-studded one I got for my birthday.”
“Do you like to wear a collar?” asked Dooley interestedly.
“Oh, absolutely,” said Coco. “You don’t?”
“No, not really,” said Dooley. “We wore collars recently for some experiment Odelia was conducting and I didn’t like it. You didn’t like it either, did you, Max?”