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“I hope so,” said Odelia. Though it wasn’t like Max not to come home after a day well spent hunting down clues and talking to pet witnesses. “Maybe we should go and look for them.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” said Chase, who had a lot of confidence in her cats’ ability to take care of themselves.

“I’m not so sure,” said Brutus. “He was pretty adamant about our strike.”

“The strike? Oh, right, the strike.”

“Yeah, he really ran with it. Said he would never help you investigate a crime ever again.”

“Oh, dear,” said Odelia.

Chapter 15

Unbeknownst to Odelia and Chase, or Harriet and Brutus, for that matter, their conversation hadn’t remained as private as they would have liked it to be. Behind the backyard was a patch of fallow land where no house had been built yet. It was generally used by neighborhood kids to play on, or sometimes by a local farmer to put his sheep, and save the owner the trouble of taking out his lawnmower. It had been a while since the sheep had grazed there, though, and so the grass was high—so high that two people could easily hide in there, and aim a camera and a microphone at the backyard of the unsuspecting Odelia Poole and her future husband and their cats. And by the time Odelia and Chase returned indoors, Lauren Klepfisch patted Zak Kowalski on the back and said, “Did you get all that?”

“Yeah, sure, but I’m not sure what it is I got.”

“Proof that Odelia Poole talks to her pets,” said Lauren triumphantly.

“So? Plenty of people talk to their pets. My mom talks to her Chihuahua.”

“Yeah, lots of people talk to their pets, but few people have their pets talk back to them, and are able to understand what they say.”

“And you think that’s what happened here?”

“Pretty sure it did. I’m not sure how it all works, but it was clear to me they were holding an entire conversation, and now we have everything on tape.”

“So? What does it prove? That Odelia Poole is a little nutty?”

“That’s for our viewers to decide. And I’m sure we’ll get great coverage.”

Zak got up and stretched his sore limbs.“I’m starting to understand what being a war correspondent feels like. Tough to have to lie in bushes.”

“This is not war reporting, you idiot,” Lauren snapped as she plucked a beetle from her shoulder. “For one thing, there are no snipers trying to kill us.”

“Except for my colleague,” he muttered darkly.

“So what did you think of Gabriel Crier? Do you think he did it?”

“How should I know? I’m not a cop,” the cameraman grumbled as he swiped at the knees of his jeans where two nice patches of green had appeared.

“I think he did it,” she said. “And a great story it is, too: Gay Lover Murders King Of Couture. It’s the Gianni Versace thing all over again. Right here in the heart of the Hamptons. Oh, this is going to be a smash. My big break. And then the Odelia Poole pet whisperer thing on top of that, it’s going to be the one-two punch that’s going to blow all my competition out of the water!”

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Christopher Cross, the pet detective, was at that moment applying a slender finger to the buzzer of Chateau Leonidas and patiently waiting for the gates to swing open, which after a brief delay they did. He got back into the van and directed his vehicle along the long drive, his trusty feline sidekick next to him in the passenger seat.

“I wonder what she wants from us this time,” grumbled Tank.<>

“Probably to hand us our paycheck,” said Chris. “We cracked the case, didn’t we? So time to pay up.”

“We didn’t crack the case, Chris,” said the Siamese cat tersely. “The case cracked itself. Or should I say, Gabe cracked under the pressure and killed his lover.”

“The operative word being cracked. The killer was caught so we need to get paid. It’s as simple as that.”

“Yeah, though I’m not so sure.”

“Not so sure about what?”

“That they got the right guy!”

“He was caught red-handed. Why wouldn’t he be the right guy?”

“Cause those two idiots Max and Dooley are still hanging around the chateau, making nice with Flake’s flock of barnyard animals. And let me ask you this: would they bother if the case was cracked? Let me answer that for you: no, they wouldn’t!”

“Max and Dooley are idiots. They wouldn’t know how to find a clue if it stared them right in the face.”

“They may be idiots, but they still manage to solve a lot of cases, bud, or haven’t you been reading dear Odelia Poole’s articles?”