“It’s about time,” he grumbled. “I thought you’d never show up.”
“And a good day to you too, Max,” she said as she took a seat.
“Oh, boy,” said Max, hopping onto the desk. “Have I got news for you!”
This morning ritual of theirs wasn’t unusual. Max might get most of his information from other cats, whom he met on his nocturnal excursions, but he often made a quick trip around town during the daytime as well, to see if he couldn’t pick up some nice tidbits of news here or there. The police station, especially, often rewarded them both with some great stories fit to print.
She needed to vet them, of course, and run them by the editor, Dan Goory, who’d been running this paper since before Odelia was born, but he trusted her, and never pressed her for her sources, knowing she wouldn’t reveal them anyway. And even if she did, she knew he wouldn’t believe her.
Weird thing about her uncanny knack was that it only seemed to work on cats. She’d tried talking to dogs, but they simply stared at her dumbly, then continued licking their butts or chasing their tails as if she hadn’t spoken.
“Tell me,” she said happily as she took her notebook and sat with pencil poised while Max spilled the latest news straight from the chief of police’s mouth. But when he’d finished his tale, she still hadn’t jotted down a word, too shocked at what he’d told her. “Paulo Frey? Murdered?” she gasped.
“Yep, and found at the bottom of the Writer’s Lodge cesspit. The Medical Examiner is trying to figure out what killed him and Chief Alec is expecting his report sometime this morning. Only trouble is…”
“What?” she asked anxiously as she feverishly started taking notes. She needed to confirm all of this with the chief, but this was one hell of a story.
“I’ve been told not to go near the police station again.”
She looked up, startled.“What? Who told you?”
“Brutus,” he said bitterly. “That big brute that belongs to Chase Kingsley. He’s been throwing his weight around ever since he arrived in town. He says the police station is off-limits to me and my buddies from now on.”
She immediately recognized this for what it was: a clear and present danger to her job. If Max wasn’t allowed to sneak up to Chief Alec’s window and snap up any and all snippets of information, she was out of a very valuable news source. Not that her uncle Alec was secretive, or unwilling to share, but his niece wasn’t the first person he ran to when he had important information to share. Though he’d gotten used to her finding out anyway.
“Listen, Max,” she said earnestly. “Don’t let this cat boss you around. Tell him he’s got no business telling other cats where they can and can’t go.”
“That’s what I told him! But he threatened me with violence if I didn’t do what he said.” He sighed. “I told you. That cat’s a genuine bully.”
“This is an outrage!” she spat, jumping to her feet. “Who does he think he is, bossing others around like that?!”
“He thinks he’s the new cop in town, that’s who he thinks he is.”
“We’ll see about that,” grunted Odelia, and strode out of the office.
“Where are you going, Odelia?” asked Dan from his own office.
“The police station!” she yelled back. “I’ve got a scoop!” She quickly stuck her head into the old man’s office and grinned at him. Then she spoke the words she’d wanted to speak for a very long time. “Stop the presses, Dan. And hold the front page. I’ve got the scoop to end all scoops.”
“Oh? Whaddya got?”
Her eyes glittered with excitement.“A murder.”
“Murder in Hampton Cove!” cried the old editor, his glasses almost falling from his face as he shot up from behind his desk. “No way!”
“Yes, way,” she confirmed. “I’ll be back in a jiffy so hold that front page.”
“I sure will,” he said, a look of sheer happiness on his kindly hobbit face. The news that a murder had taken place might appall regular folk, but then reporters aren’t like regular folk, of course. To them, murder and mayhem are like music to their ears.
Odelia purposefully set foot for the police station, and thought about what Max had said about this Brutus character. It was time that Chase Kingsley taught his cat a few lessons in common courtesy. You didn’t just waltz into town and start bossing people around. That simply wasn’t done!
The police station was only half a block away from the Gazette, and it didn’t take her more than a few minutes to get there and waltz into the vestibule. Dolores gave her a little wave as she marched past the woman’s desk and through the short corridor to Chief Alec’s office.
She and the chief had developed a kind of working relationship over the years. He knew how important it was that the public be informed about the goings-on in this town, and that Odelia had a unique skill set that made her well-placed to report on anything going on in Hampton Cove. She knew stuff before anyone else did, and he helped her fill in the gaps and occasionally even enlisted her to help him on any small investigation he had running.
It also helped that he was her uncle, of course, and often sat down to dinner with them. Odelia’s mom had more or less taken him under her wing after his wife died, and he was now pretty much a fixture at the house, and enjoyed their cooking almost more than Dr. Poole himself.
So she simply barged into his office without knocking and said,“Hey, Uncle Alec. What’s all this I’m hearing about Paulo Frey being found at the bottom of a cesspit?”
Only now did she notice that there was a third person in the office, seated across from the chief. He was tall and lanky, with chiseled features and clear blue eyes. Those eyes now swiveled to her and took her in with a sharp look.
The chief had risen.“Um, Odelia, this is Chase Kingsley. Chase, this is my niece Odelia Poole. She’s a reporter with theHampton Cove Gazette.”
Chase’s eyes were still fixed on her, and judging from the expression on his face he wasn’t happy. “How the hell did you find out about Paulo Frey?”
The chief gave a feeble smile.“Odelia has her sources, don’t you, honey?”
“I sure have,” she said, taking a seat in the other chair, her notebook poised on her lap. “So is it true that you found all of his suitcases, his laptop and all of his belongings buried down there with the body?”
Chase shook his head.“Unbelievable,” he grunted.
She snapped her head up.“What’s unbelievable?”
“The way information gets leaked!” he cried, clearly incensed.
“The press has a right to know what’s going on in this town, Chase,” she said. “So I suggest you get used to it. The people have a right to know.”
“It’s Detective Kingsley to you,” he grumbled.
“We’re all friends here,” said the chief, holding up his hands placatingly. “And Odelia only writes her stories after checking them with me.”
“That still doesn’t explain how she knows about this case,” he insisted.
“A little birdie told me, all right? Now can you or can’t you confirm that Paulo Frey’s body was found at the bottom of the Writer’s Lodge outhouse?”
“Yes, I can,” said the chief, casting a weary glance at Chase.
“Unbelievable,” huffed Chase again, shaking his head.
She turned on the man.“This is the way we do things in this town.”
“It’s certainly different from the way we handle things in the city,” he said, giving her a very stern look. “In fact I can’t even imagine any nosy reporter ever barging into the office of the NYPD commissioner and dictating terms.”
“I’m not dictating terms,” she gritted out. “I’m merely trying to get confirmation on some basic facts pertaining to this case.”
“A case you have no business sticking your nose into.”