0aeaa1e36e6f2e625b6ba8d48f773062

“He didn’t write that—it’s not even his handwriting. Well, it looks like his handwriting, only it’s not. Someone forged that note to make it look like he killed himself.” Abruptly she got up. “Look, if you’re going to try to convince me I’m wrong, I’ll go and find another detective, Miss Poole.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Odelia quickly. “But you understand that I might find that your dad did kill himself, right?”

“You won’t, because he didn’t,” said Rose curtly, then promptly stalked off. She turned and said, “You have to try harder, Miss Poole. And don’t listen to my idiot boyfriend!”

And then she was gone.

Chapter 20

Dooley and I had been wandering through the park, discussing the case and Dooley’s fascination with Sausage Man as he now referred to his chosen killer, when we suddenly saw a familiar figure seated on a park bench. It was none other than Odelia, and judging from the way Rose Wimmer was walking away from her, hiking her backpack higher up her slender form, she’d just been in conference with her client—if a non-paying teenager can be called a client.

“Hey, you guys,” our human said when we joined her on that bench and took a seat right next to her. “I just talked to Rose. She doesn’t seem very happy with the progress I’ve made—or the lack of progress.”

“What did she say?” I asked, as I stared after the teenager as she walked off.

“She said not to believe a word her idiot boyfriend says for one thing,” said Odelia as she rubbed her eyes. “And she’s still adamant her dad was murdered, that much was obvious.”

“This is a weird case,” I ventured. “A case that isn’t much of a case, with not much to go on. A case without a real client.”

“I know. I’m not even sure there’s even a crime to investigate.” She sighed. “Why am I doing this, you guys? Please tell me.”

“Because you have a hunch,” I told her. “And a good reporter—or amateur sleuth—always follows those hunches, wherever they may lead.”

She smiled and patted my head.“You know you’re the best sidekick a detective could ever hope to find?”

“Or you’re the best sidekick a feline dick could ever hope to find,” I countered.

At the mention of the word dick Dooley looked up.“Have you found him?” he asked. “Sausage Man? Have you discovered his identity?”

“Not yet,” said Odelia. “Chase is still looking into that.”

“Maybe you should call him?” Dooley suggested.

“He would have called me if he’d discovered something. It’s not so easy. As I understand it they have to get in touch with Facebook and ask them to supply the information connected with this particular Messenger account. Also, I don’t want to bother Chase while he’s at work. Not with something that has no bearing on the case.”

“No bearing on the case!” said Dooley. “It’s only the most important piece of evidence! In fact it’s the only piece of evidence you have so far.”

“There’s also the car,” I told him. “The car the neighbor saw? That could also prove very important.” I turned to our human. “No news on that traffic camera footage?”

“Nope,” said Odelia. “Nothing so far.”

“You’re right,” I said. “This is one frustrating case.”

And so we just sat there for a moment, enjoying the day, which was shaping up to be a really nice autumn day. The leaves in the park had turned yellow and gold and had been starting to fall, and there was a definite crispness in the air that was very pleasant. Don’t get me wrong, I like it when the weather is nice and balmy, and when the sun is out, but temperatures don’t need to get too high for me to start getting a little uncomfortable. It’s this coat of fur, you see. It’s not that I can go and take it off if I get too hot. One of the less enjoyable aspects of being a cat. No zipper!

Odelia finally got up and stretched.“I better get back to the office, or Dan will wonder what happened to me.” She grimaced. “I need to go and talk to the winner of the hog wrestling competition that took place last weekend.”

I grinned.“What a fascinating life you lead, Odelia.”

She gave me a mock flick on the ear, and then we were heading into town again. And we’d just arrived at her office when suddenly the door of a car parked in front of the Gazette swung open and a man came out, looking positively annoyed. He was big and burly and had one of those battering rams for chins that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a boxing ring. He was also wearinga nice suit, but that didn’t detract from the menace he exuded.

“Miss Poole!” he said, striding up to us with purposeful stride. “I want a word with you.”

“Mr. Kemp, isn’t it?” she said. “Leo Kemp?”

“That’s right. You have got to stop spreading these nasty rumors about me, Miss Poole,” said the man, and took an intimidating stance right in front of our human. So intimidating in fact that I eyed the man with a heightened sense of alarm.

“What rumors?” asked Odelia, clearly taken aback by this sudden intervention.