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“I don’t want to die either, Dooley,” I said, and already I was eyeing the door with a keen eye. “If we move fast,” I whispered in his ear, “we can make it. On three. One two three—go!”

And I raced for the door. Only I felt a keen sense of emptiness behind me and when I looked back I saw that Dooley was glued to the spot, looking at me with wide panicky eyes. So I halted and retraced my steps.

“Ha ha ha!” Tank laughed. “Look at them. Dumb and dumber—the sequel!”

“Close the door, you idiots,” Leonora snapped. “If they get out they’ll spill the beans and then all this will have been for naught.”

“Max,” said Dooley when I’d returned to his side. “Why didn’t you make a run for it?”

“I couldn’t very well leave my best friend behind, could I?”

“But you could have escaped and warned Odelia!”

Oh, shoot. Why hadn’t I thought of that!

“So this is your final word?” asked Leonora.

“This is my final word,” Chris confirmed. “I’m not a cat killer. If you want them dead, you’ll have to find someone else to do it.”

“Imbeciles and incompetents!” shouted Leonora as she directed her wheelchair to the door. “I’m surrounded by imbeciles and incompetents!” She passed through the door, followed by Helga and Chris. The last one to leave us in our new prison was, of course, Tank.

“Too bad they didn’t task me with the kill,” he said. And he slashed the air with his gleaming claw. Then the door closed and we were once again alone.

“Someone will come for us,” said Pussy. “Your humans will realize what’s going on and they’ll come looking for you.”

Under normal circumstances I would have heartily agreed with her. Only this time I had the distinct impression that no one would come for us. Or even if they did, it would be too late, and we’d already be dead and buried.

Chapter 20

Gran wasn’t feeling like herself. Ever since her granddaughter had branched out into the world of private detecting, she’d been her loyal and able sidekick on many an investigation. Today, though, things hadn’t gone according to plan, to say the least. The worst kind of investigation was the one that was over before it even got started. And yet…

While at the reception desk in her son-in-law’s office, she’d been surfing the web on the newly minted smartphone Tex had gifted her, and she discovered a couple of things about the case that greatly worried her. For one thing, by all accounts Leonidas Flake and Gabriel Crier had been a devoted couple. They’d been together for thirty years, and all that time they’d appeared in public displaying an affection that was unmistakable. It was hard to imagine that suddenly one partner in the tryst would snap and murder the other partner in the tryst and then not even remember what he’d done.

Furthermore, there had been rumors that the empire Leo had built was rocking on its foundations, not least because his mother was shaking the tree, insisting her son was squandering his legacy by bad business decisions. The woman had actually had the gall to try and oust her son from his own company by launching a hostile takeover bid. The fact that it had failed didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things. It had spooked investors, and the stock had been trading at an all-time low.

Shops had been closed, sales had slumped, and the company was on shaky ground. And now this murder. Gran couldn’t help but feel there was more to the murder than a simple lovers’ tiff. Rumors had been flying around all day that now that her son was dead, Mama Flake was moving in and finalizing her takeover attempt. She’d been spotted in town, even before the murder, staying at the Hampton Cove Star, which was highly suspect to say the least. Then again, Ma Flake was old. She was ninety-eight, and wheelchair bound, so it was hardly feasible she would have held the knife that killed her only son.

Furthermore, after the bad blood that had existed between herself and her son, she’d become persona non grata at Chateau Leonidas and hadn’t been allowed to set foot inside the premises. At least not until today. So even if she’d wanted to murder her son, she wouldn’t have had the chance.

Still, Gran felt there were loose ends attached to this case, and had already placed a strongly worded phone call to her own son Alec, telling him not to put all his eggs in one basket but to give the investigation another chance.

So great was her concern that when she arrived home after her shift, instead of plunking down in front of the TV to watchJeopardy!, she hunkered down at the kitchen table to do some more digging into the family Flake.

Her daughter Marge, when arriving home from the library, watched her with a curious eye.“What’s going on with you, Ma? NoJeopardy! today?”

“Murder investigation,” she grunted curtly.

“Not the Flake case? Terrible business, that. I loved the man’s designs.”

This had Gran look up in surprise.“You liked Flake’s designs?”

“Yeah, loved them. I have several Leonidas Flakes upstairs. Of course I only wear them on special occasions.”