“Let’s hope we can wrap up this case as soon as possible. Keeping these people cooped up in here is going to prove a challenge. Are you sure we can’t allow them to go home?”
“It’s fine for Tex and Marge, but what about the others? Not all of them live in Hampton Cove. And if we allow one set of couples to go home and not the others, it’s going to create trouble. No, as long as we haven’t ruled out that someone on the premises killed Isobel Droba, we need to keep a close eye on these people.”
When we entered the living room to talk to the next couple, imagine my surprise when a familiar cute little dog greeted us on the threshold. It looked like an Ewok, but in actual fact it was a miniature Brussels Griffon named Joey, and last time I looked belonged to Ona Konpacka, the former supermodel.
“Max! Dooley!” the little doggie exclaimed, clearly happy to see us.
“Joey!” said Dooley. “What are you doing here?”
“Ona doesn’t go anywhere without me,” said Joey.
“But I thought she was a recluse?” said Dooley.
“Oh, not anymore, she’s not.”
We glanced over to the window, where Ona was waiting for her police interview. And I have to say she looked a lot better than the last time we saw her. Back then her face was all lumpy. Now it was as smooth as a Swiss lake in wintertime. She was heavily made up, but still: the structure of her face had been restored to its former glory as far as I could tell.
“Who’s that man next to her?” I asked.
“That’s Max Stinger,” said Joey. “He’s the man who saved her life.”
“Don’t tell me Ona tried to take her own life!” Dooley cried.
Joey laughed.“Oh, no, nothing like that. But he performed the operation that made her look human again, repairing the damage that butcher caused.”
With that butcher Joey was referring to the cosmetic surgeon who had ended Ona’s great career. “So he’s her boyfriend now?” I asked.
“He is. I guess between the moment he put her under narcosis and the moment the bandages were removed and she was greeted by her old face again in the mirror, Ona fell in love. They’ve been together ever since.”
A second little doggie came tripping up to us.“Who are these cats, Joey?” it asked. Like Joey, it was small and fluffy, and was clearly a Brussels Griffon, just like her.
“These are Max and Dooley,” said Joey. “Remember I told you about them?”
“Oh, that’s right. They’re the ones who got me my new forever home.”
“When you promised me you’d ask your human to tell Ona to get me a little brother or sister,” said Joey, “I wasn’t sure you’d keep your promise. So when Zoey suddenly showed up one day, I was pleasantly surprised.” She looked a little bashful all of a sudden. “Thank you so much. Youdon’t know what it meant to me.”
“I think I do,” I said. “Life at home wouldn’t be the same for me without Dooley.” Or Harriet and Brutus, of course. When we first met Joey, Ona had been living like a recluse in her apartment, with only Joey as her companion. The little doggie had been lonely, and had asked us to arrangefor a friend to keep her company. And so we’d talked to Odelia, who’d told Marge, who knew that Michele had some vague connection to Ona, and thus things had been arranged.
“I’m happy to meet again,” I said. “Even though the circumstances aren’t great.”
“No, a woman has been murdered, right?” said Joey. “Isobel Droba?”
“You didn’t know Isobel well?”
“Not really. This is the first year we’ve been invited to this retreat. Last year Ona was still holed up in her apartment.”
“It’s nice here,” said Zoey, with a touch of bashfulness. “People are all so very nice to us—and to Ona and Max.”
“Max?” asked Dooley, then got the reference and laughed. “Oh, that’s funny, Max. Ona’s boyfriend is also called Max. Just like you!”
“I know,” I said, even though I didn’t get the joke. “You didn’t hear anything last night?” I asked. “Or notice anything suspicious?”
“Nothing,” said Joey. “It’s all very new to us, of course. We don’t know most of these people. The only person Ona knows is Michele, who once organized a photo shoot for some campaign about car tires.” She smiled. “I remember Ona complaining that it’s hard work to make a car tire look sexy. But she managed.”
“Is she going to be a model again?” asked Dooley.
“No, she’s retired. Her face is still not fully recovered. Maybe it never will. And besides, that part of her life is behind her now. She’s happy that she can be out and about again. And it’s all thanks to Max.”
When Dooley stared at me, I said,“Not me, Dooley. The other Max.”
“Oh, right,” said my friend, then laughed again. “It’s very confusing, Max. Maybe we should call you Max 1 and Ona’s boyfriend Max 2. Or the other way around.”
“I think we’ll manage to differentiate between the two,” I said dryly.
CHAPTER 15
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Chase introduced Odelia as the civilian police consultant assisting him on the case, and at the mention of the name, Ona’s hitherto regal and frosty demeanor melted to some extent. “You’re Marge Poole’s daughter, aren’t you?” she said.
“Yep, that’s me,” Odelia confirmed.