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“Honey, you came all the way here!” he said, as if he were on Alcatraz and Marge had had to pay the ferryman to brave the churning and shark-infested seas to get there.

“Things aren’t looking too good for you right now,” said Marge, knowing she didn’t have a lot of time allotted for this visit and wanting to convey as much information as she could. She was also aware curious eyes were watching them through the one-way mirror.

“Not too good is an understatement,” said Tex, as they shared a warm hug. “I didn’t do it, honey. At least not to my recollection. Chase seems to think I had a blackout or lapse of judgment and might not remember, so there’s always that to take into account.”

“It’s all going to be fine,” said Marge warmly, glad to see him. “Ma and Odelia have taken your case in hand and are interviewing witnesses and tracking down suspects.”

“Your mother?” said Tex, clearly taken aback to find Vesta of all people in his corner.

“She’s been amazing,” Marge gushed. “You should see the way she bulldozes her way through a pack of reluctant witnesses. I think the world missed out on a great detective.”

“How about Odelia?” Tex asked eagerly. “What does she think happened?”

Marge hesitated. She didn’t want to tell her husband both she and Odelia actually thought he was guilty. Not great for his morale. Or those prying eyes watching them now. So instead she said, “Odelia has become a real champion for justice to prevail.”

“Then everything will be all right,” said Tex. “If Odelia is on the case, I don’t have to worry about a thing. She’ll catch the real killer.” He gave her a sheepish look. “Unless I did do it, of course. In which case she’s going to look really silly. And so is Vesta.”

“Don’t say things like that, Tex,” Marge said, and darted a glance at that darned one-way mirror. “Don’t say anything to incriminate yourself. Better yet, from now on don’t say a single word without a lawyer.”

“Can you get me one?” he asked, like a child asking for a lollypop.

“I’m working on it,” she said. “But until then, don’t talk to anyone.”

“Not even Chase or your brother?”

Her expression hardened.“Especially them. These people are not your friends, Tex.”

“But they’re my family.”

“No, they’re not,” she insisted. “The only family you’ve got is me and Odelia and my mother. My brother and Chase are dead to us from now on. You understand?Dead.”

And to make sure her words registered, she directed a pointed look at that mirror.

She could almost hear the glugging sound her brother made as he gulped at her harsh words and choked on his fat forked tongue.

Chapter 32

For Kingman this was the first time he was playing detective, officially sanctioned by Max himself, Hampton Cove’s premier feline sleuth. And he had to admit it was a lot tougher than he’d anticipated.

He’d thought that as soon as he started on his quest for clues, the little suckers would start filing in and report for duty, one after the other.

Instead, he discovered that the problem wasn’t a dearth of clues but an abundance! Clue after clue came flying at him and he had a hard time distinguishing between the really vital ones and the ones that could safely be called duds and were to be discarded.

For instance smack out of the gate he saw that a waiter was eating his own hors d’oeuvres, furtively glancing around as he did. Suspicious, Kingman felt. Portentous, even. Could this man be the killer? Very likely, Kingman felt. But then he saw a second waiter, a female one this time, smoking a cigarette and talking into her phone.

“I know I shouldn’t have done it, Dad, but he made me,” she was saying.

Kingman’s heart skipped a couple of beats. Here it was: a real confession! Straight from the horse’s mouth—or in this case the killer’s!

“What was I supposed to do, Dad? The man simply left me no choice!”

Kingman was listening with bated breath, his eyes having gone a little pop-eyed. He had to tell Max. He had to tell him to call off the hunt, for Kingman had solved the case!

“Okay, so next time I’ll tell Mario I already made other arrangements. No, I’m not going to tell him I was supposed to head down to Southampton to visit Gran this weekend.” She smiled. “If only he paid better, I wouldn’t mind so much, but the man is the stingiest caterer I know.”

Kingman could almost hear the sound of a record scratch, and gave the waitress in question an offended look. Not fair, he felt. Making him think she was the killer when all the while she was talking about such mundane matters as having to work the weekend.