“I mean, what if this particular mutt got a good look at the killer’s face? Are you going to let him get away just because you don’t like dogs?”
“Are you, Harriet?” asked Dooley. “Are you doing to let him get away?”
Harriet bridled at this.“You know what? If you like dogs so much why don’t you talk to them? I’ll stick to cats.”
Dooley thought about this for a moment.“All right,” he said finally. “I’ll take the dogs—you take the cats.” Then he directed a curious look at Brutus. “What species of animal are you going to talk to, Brutus?”
“I’ll take the ladies,” said Brutus with a big grin before he could stop himself. But when Harriet directed a withering look in his direction, he quickly added, “Or you could talk to the ladies, Harriet. I can talk to the gentlemen.”
“We’re here,” said Odelia, and stomped on the brake with such fervor that the four of us were suddenly catapulted from our positions on the backseat and plastered against the back of the front seats. All of us except Dooley, who’d been sitting in the middle. He flew through the air, describing a perfect arc, and would have been reduced to a mere smear on the windshield if Odelia hadn’t had the presence of mind—and the superior reflexes—to grab him by the neck and save him from further harm.
“Phew,” said Dooley once he’d recovered from his adventure. “Thanks, Odelia.”
“I’m sorry about that,” said Odelia, giving Dooley a quick hug before placing him on the passenger seat. She turned to face us. “I know I’m a little on edge right now, but that’s because my mom is in trouble. So please do the best you can, and I apologize for being such a sourpuss.” She gave us a quick smile, then opened the door and allowed us to hop from the car and onto the pavement.
I saw she’d parked a ways away from the library. She probably didn’t want to advertise the fact that she’d called in her private feline army to deal with this latest murder emergency. Even though Odelia can talk to cats, and so can her mother and grandmother, no one else can, and they would think it strange if they saw a grown woman speak feline.
We watched Odelia lock up her pickup and stalk away in the direction of the library. I felt for my human. She looked more stressed and downhearted than I’d ever seen her.
“I hope they don’t lock up my human,” said Harriet, who must have read my mind.
“They won’t,” I assured her. “Your human’s brother is the chief of police, and he would never lock up his own sister. Humans don’t lock up their own kin.”
Actually, they probably did, but this wasn’t the time to discuss worst-case scenarios. This was the time to rally round and tackle this dreadful murder business which had suddenly struck very close to home indeed.
“Let’s do this,” I said, and we were off to the races.
Chapter 4
When Odelia tried to enter the library she discovered a police officer had been stationed at the front door—possibly the first time that had ever happened. He was one of those stalwart types: buff, with a slight pudginess in the belly area, and sporting a nicely trimmed mustache, which doubled as a donut crumb collector.
“Um, I need to get in there?” she said tentatively.
She’d recognized the cop as one of her uncle’s guys and she was pretty sure the cop had recognized her as well. He shook his head, though, and stared over her head as if silently hoping she would take a hint and simply melt away into the background.
“Oh, come on, Jackson,” she said. “Don’t give me that dead cod look.”
This stirred him out of his self-chosen apathy.“I don’t look like a dead cod,” he said indignantly.
“Yes, you do. Now are you going to let me in? My mom is in there and she needs me.”
“Your mom is a suspect, Poole, and unless you’re her lawyer you’re not setting foot anywhere near her.”
“I was wrong,” she said. “You’re not a dead cod. You’re dead, period. Or at least dead from the neck up.” She tapped his noggin. “Yup. Just what I suspected. Solid ivory.”
He had the good grace to look offended.“I’m just doing my duty. Please go away.”
“I’m not going anywhere, but if you don’t step aside you’re the one who’s going away.”
That seemed to register. Officer Jackson obviously knew that Odelia was his boss’s niece, and not just any old niece but the man’s favorite niece, who’d helped him out with quite a few investigations in the recent past. What was more, she was now dating one of Hampton Cove’s foremost police detectives.
He still continued undecided, though. That’s the trouble with making decisions: either way you go, there are going to be consequences so it’s probably better not to do anything.
Odelia decided to try a different tack.“Come on, Jackson. Have a heart. That’s my mother in there. What if it were your mom?”
“My mom would never get involved with murder,” he said a little huffily.
“Hey, that’s something we’ve got in common: my mom wouldn’t get involved with murder either!”
