“And along with it the blood stains and DNA that will show beyond a reasonable doubt that Trey Ackerman killed his father,” Uncle Alec finished the story.
“Hard to believe that a son would kill his father,” said Chase, shaking his head.
“I don’t think he devised the plan,” said Odelia. “Angelique did. Trey just went along with it and did the actual deed—wanting to spare his mother the more gruesome aspects of the scheme she’d hatched. In fact she probably decided to kill her husband months ago, when she discovered he was planning to leave her for Stacey Kulcheski.”
“There’s only one part about this whole sordid business I regret,” said Gran.
“What’s that?” asked Marge.
Gran threw up her arms. “That I didn’t get to film the grand finale! Those bastards took away my phone!”
“I’m sure plenty of people caught the whole thing on video,” said Uncle Alec. He clapped Chase on the shoulder. “For one thing, they sure as heck caught our rising musical star Chase on tape. Ed Sheeran, watch out!”
“Thanks,” said Chase. “I kinda enjoyed being the decoy.”
“It sure delayed the Ackermans until our team was in place to break down the door.”
“Too bad I didn’t catch the big performance,” said Odelia.
“You saw the private performance,” said Chase, smiling. “Which was the better one of the two.”
Only now did Odelia realize she was missing something. She looked around. “Where are my cats?”
“Right there,” said Chase, stepping aside.
And there they were indeed: Max, Dooley, Brutus, Harriet and… Big Mac. Sitting on the sidewalk and smiling up at her. They were a sight for sore eyes.
“Oh, my babies,” she said, crouching down. They all jumped into her arms. “You caught the bad guys—you saved my life—what would I do without you?”
Chase laughed. “It’s the weirdest thing. Almost as if they can understand what she says.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gran snapped. “Cats don’t talk. Everybody knows that.”
“No, of course not,” he said, his smile vanishing. “You’re right.”
“Dumbass,” Gran grunted.
“Ma,” said Uncle Alec warningly.
“Just welcoming the kid into the family,” said Gran, and pinched Chase’s cheeks.
Epilogue
“So what did you tell Chase when you went to warn him?” asked Odelia.
“Simple. I told him I had a feeling you were in trouble,” said Marge.
“But how did you explain I was at the hotel?”
Marge took a deep breath, darted a quick look at Chase, who was assisting Tex with the barbecue as usual, then explained quietly, “I told him I’d once seen a documentary about whales being able to feel their babies were in trouble even though they were miles away. I said the same thing applied to mothers and their kids. I said I could sense you were in trouble and I had a hunch you’d had a hunch about the writer’s son and ex-wife.”
“Seems far-fetched,” said Odelia, taking a bite from her hot dog. “He believed you?”
“Oh, he did. Immediately. You’ve got a good man there, Odelia. He’s a keeper.”
They moved off and Dooley glanced up at the sky. It had been a week since the stunning events at the Hampton Cove Star and the world hadn’t ended, which clearly puzzled Dooley.
“Trust me, Dooley,” I said now. “The world isn’t going to end. I mean, at some point it probably will, but not this week. Not even this year or even this decade.”
“You think so, Max?”
“I know so. So you can stop worrying.”
“And stop nagging us,” Harriet muttered.
“So how about those spots of yours?” I asked Brutus.
“You’re not going to believe this but they’re gone!” said the black cat. And to prove he wasn’t lying, he pressed his chest into my face.
“Nice,” I muttered.
The four of us were seated on the swing on Marge and Tex’s back porch. Tex was officiating the barbecue, aided and abetted by Chase, Uncle Alec was recounting the story of how Angelique and Trey Ackerman had been charged with murder, and Gran was messing around with her phone, checking the footage she’d shot in the course of the investigation.
“You know? You really outdid yourself this time, Max,” said Brutus.
“How is that?”
“I still don’t get how you had that sudden brainwave that led you to figure out what happened.”
“I told you. It was the plastic hamburger. I suddenly remembered Big Mac going on and on about how the pizza guy wasn’t a real pizza guy because he didn’t smell like one. So that plastic burger got me thinking. What if Big Mac was right? What if the pizza guy wasn’t a pizza guy? What if it was the killer pretending to be a pizza guy? Which meant he would have ditched the outfit as soon as he got the chance. So if only we could find it—”
“We’d find the killer,” Brutus said. “Pretty clever, buddy.”
“Max followed the pizza boxes,” said Dooley. “Just like Aurora Teagarden.”
We all laughed. Dooley was right. The pizza boxes had led us to the killers.
“The real hero is, of course, Big Mac,” I said. “He’s solved the whole thing.”
We all looked in the direction of the big red cat, who was gobbling down the hamburger patties Tex kept feeding him. Finally, he waddled over in our direction. He was too big to jump up onto the swing, so he stayed where he was, then heaved a soft burp.
“And? How do you like the taste of a real burger?” I asked.
Big Mac shook his head sadly. “It’s not the same, you guys.”
“But these are real burgers—not the junk food you usually eat.”
“Yeah, but junk food tastes so much better,” said Big Mac. “Honestly? There’s no comparison. No offense,” he added for Tex’s sake.
“He can’t understand you,” said Harriet. “Only Odelia, Marge and Vesta can.”
“Weird. What about the buff dude?”
“Nope. Chase doesn’t understand us either.”
“Or the sheriff?”
Harriet shook her head. “Only the women in this family speak feline.”
“Huh. Too bad. Would be so easy if the whole world could understand us.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” said Clarice, who’d joined us. She’d been coming and going these last couple of days, trying to get accustomed to having her own home. I had a feeling it wouldn’t last, though. Once a feral cat, always a feral cat. Odelia had tried to domesticate her once before and it hadn’t worked. Then again, Clarice probably wouldn’t be the same if she became like the rest of us. That was part of her appeal. And the reason I liked her.
“What are you guys talking about?” she asked now.
“Humans,” said Big Mac.
“Oh, don’t get me started on humans,” she growled, darting a cold look at the humans gathered in the backyard. At that moment Odelia offered Clarice a piece of raw burger. She swallowed it down whole. Odelia laughed and fed her another piece.
“These humans aren’t so bad,” said Big Mac.
“I guess not,” said Clarice grudgingly.
Clarice and Big Mac stalked off, to gobble up some more burger, and Brutus and Harriet followed their example, only to abruptly change course and disappear through the hedge into the next garden. Brutus probably wanted to show Harriet his lack of spots.
“Do you think Clarice will be part of the gang from now on, Max?” asked Dooley.
“Pretty sure she won’t. She’s a street cat, Dooley. What’s more, she rules those streets.”
“I don’t get it.”
“We think Clarice should be saved from her dumpster-diving ways but that’s not how she feels about it. She’s free out there, the queen of the urban jungle. Sometimes I think it’s she who pities us, and not the other way around. Pities our sedentary, domesticated lives.”