“So of all the cats you know, he’s the best?” asked Dooley, annoyed.
“Yes, he is.”
“Greater than all the cats you’ve ever known? Cats you’ve lived with all your life? Cats like Max… and me?”
She hesitated, but then said, “Brutus is different.”
“Oh, I’ll say he’s different.”
“See?” she said. “Again with the criticism. You’re my friend, Dooley, so why can’t you simply be happy for me? Happy that I found my soulmate?”
He shrugged. “I am happy for you.”
“You don’t sound happy.”
I grinned when Dooley made a face behind Harriet’s back. Then I returned my attention to Brutus, who’d now reached the house and was sneaking inside, still staying low, even though anyone could spot a black cat against white pavement. Suddenly he popped his head back out and waved us over frantically. “We better get over there,” I said, quite needlessly.
“She’s leaving!” he cried when we’d joined him.
I darted a look inside, and saw he was right: Veronica, now talking animatedly into her phone, had pulled on jeans shorts and a crop top and snatched a small clutch from the table before walking out of the living room.
We quickly hurried out and followed the driveway back to the front of the house, just in time to see a taxi pull up and Veronica get in.
“What do we do now?” asked Harriet, panicking.
“Relax, toots,” said Brutus. “We just press this nifty button and warn Odelia that our target is on the move.”
“She’ll never get here in time,” I told him. “One of us has to follow that cab.”
“I’ll do it,” said Brutus. “Just like Bruce, right?”
But while we were holding a strategy meeting, the taxi was already pulling away, so in a spur of the moment kind of thing, I broke into a run.
“Hey, where are you going?!” Brutus cried.
While the car picked up speed, I jumped up onto the trunk, then onto the roof, and grasped the antenna and held on for dear life.
“Press that button!” I yelled, since I couldn’t reach it now.
“Maxie, baby!” cried Brutus. “Don’t let go!”
Well, that was certainly my intention. Maybe Brutus was right after all. Sometimes being a true detective is a little bit like being Bruce in Die Hard.
The taxi took us to the outskirts of town, and soon I saw where we were going: the strip mall where Rubb’s health food store was located. He pulled up right in front of the now closed shop, and Veronica got out of the cab.
Relieved we’d finally stopped moving, I managed to crawl down from the roof. My hair was a mess, and I think I’d swallowed more bugs than the windshield on a sixteen-ton truck. If this was what it was like to be Bruce, Brutus was welcome to him.
Veronica checked left and right, and then, to my surprise, disappeared inside the shop, which seemed to be open for business after all. But then, as I watched, an unseen hand quickly turned the sign from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed.’
Since I couldn’t follow her inside, I decided to walk around back. I soon found that the backside of these shops was even dingier than the front, and when I’d finally located the one that belonged to The Vitamin King, I selected an oil drum for my own and hopped on top of it. Grimy windows looked out across a junk-littered, weed-infested patch of yard, and I didn’t see much at first. But then, as I pressed my nose up against the pane, I saw I was just in time to witness the teary reunion scene between the two lovers. Bingo.
I smiled. So much for a restraining order. There was little restraint when Veronica threw herself into Rubb’s arms and kissed him passionately.
Chapter 23
Odelia had parked her pickup around the corner from Bryony Pistol’s place while her feline detectives did their thing. During the long wait, she’d sat in the backseat, working on her article, pecking away at her laptop. It all fit. Veronica must have heard from her mother that Johnny was going to divorce her and marry Jasper, and she must have decided she had to do away with her father to make sure his large fortune came her way one day, and not Jasper’s. With the help of her lover, she’d planted that vial, and had somehow managed to get Jasper’s prints on it, to cast the blame on him.
She’d also made sure there was absolutely nothing to connect her to Rubb, even going so far as to file a restraining order and make sure she wasn’t seen with him. Which meant she and Rubb must have devised this plan months ago. When she moved to Hampton Cove, Rubb had simply done the same, quickly becoming Johnny’s go-to guy for everything drug-related.
What an utterly devious couple, she thought bitterly.
When the signal came, she jumped, and stared at her smartphone screen. The signal was confusing: three dots were stationary in front of the house, while a fourth dot, Max’s, was moving at a fast clip. She decided to pick up Harriet, Dooley and Brutus and then follow Max to wherever he was going.
The moment she stopped in front of the house, Brutus, Harriet and Dooley all started yelling simultaneously. The gist of it was that Max was now clutching to a taxi for dear life, while it carted Veronica away.
“Follow that cab!” Dooley finally managed. He turned to the others. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”
“Good for you,” said Brutus, hopping into the pickup. He appeared disgruntled, and probably annoyed he wasn’t the one clutching that cab.
So she followed that cab, and it took her to the strip mall and the health food store where she and Chase had caught Rubb the day before.
When she drew near, she saw that the small dot indicated that Max was at the back of The Vitamin King, so she parked her car and carefully made her way over there, the three cats in her wake, like a regular Nancy Drew.
“This is so exciting!” cried Harriet.
“Yeah, like being in an action movie,” grunted Brutus.
The stores all had small paved backyards, where the owners collected garbage and smoked a cigarette while on a break. It didn’t take them long to find the backyard that belonged to Rubb’s business, especially since a large red cat was perched on an oil drum and peering in through the window.
“Hey, Max,” she whispered, sneaking up to the ginger tabby.
Max gave a violent start, and practically toppled off the drum.
“You scared the bejesus out of me,” he growled. Then he gestured to the window. “They’re in there, and they’re showing very little restraint!”
“Great,” she said, glad that her hunch had proved correct. She slowly craned her neck, her smartphone at the ready, and saw that Max was right: the kissing couple were obviously very happy to see each other. She quickly snapped a few shots, figuring she’d blur out the nekkid bits later in Photoshop. Readers of the Gazette didn’t like their stories X-rated.
“Gotcha,” she muttered.
The three other cats now also joined Max on that oil drum, and this proved to be their downfall. Literally. The oil drum suddenly pitched, and then clattered to the ground with a terrible clanking sound. Uh-oh. She ducked down immediately, but too late. The window above her was pushed open, and Donovan Rubb’s perfectly bearded face appeared. When he caught sight of her, he shouted, “You again!”
She gave him a cheery wave from her vantage point. “Hi, there, Donny.”
But instead of returning her greeting, he suddenly latched onto her smartphone, which she was clutching in her hand, and gave her a push.
“Hey! That’s mine!” she yelled as she fell backward.
“And now it’s mine!” he yelled back, and then disappeared.
She quickly scrambled to her feet, but by the time she was at the window again, Rubb was gone, and so was Veronica. Great. She lost them.
“This is so déjà-vu!” she groaned.
She retraced her steps, four cats on her heels, but when she arrived at her car she saw that Rubb was already straddling his trusty red Ducati—probably fresh from the police impound—and Veronica was wrapping herself around him on the pillion. They were going to make a run for it. Of course.