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“And maybe we can go and have a chat with Francine’s brothers,” Gran suggested to her granddaughter.

“What do you want me to do?” asked Chase. “I can’t talk to witnesses but there must be something I can do.”

“You’re sitting this one out, Kingsley,” said Marge sternly. “You’re in the doghouse now. And I suggest you stay there and don’t move until I decide whether I’ll forgive you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Chase, and Odelia gave him a wink, which cheered him up considerably.

“What can we do?” I asked.

“You can join us when we interview Francine’s brothers,” said Odelia. “And Harriet and Brutus can join Mom when she talks to Jenny and her dad.”

“What about me?” asked Kingman. “I’m on fire here. So please use me, Miss Odelia.”

Odelia smiled at this.“Why don’t you go and talk to Shanille and try to pump her for information on Father Reilly and his particular views on Master Omar?”

“But… I thought that was a dead end?” said Kingman.

“A good detective follows up on every single lead,” she said, giving him a tickle behind the ears. “No matter how inconsequential, you never know what they might yield.”

“Okay, Miss Odelia!” said Kingman, well pleased with these nuggets of wisdom rolling from the detective’s lips. “I’ll pump Shanille like she’s never been pumped before!”

“Um, go easy on her, will you?” said Gran. “If I know Shanille she might not like all of this… pumping. Delicacy and tact go a long way—take it from a tactful person like me.”

All the humans present laughed at this, and Gran frowned.“What? What did I say?”

Just then, Odelia’s phone tinkled and she picked up with a cheerful, “Odelia Poole speaking.” She then glanced at the others present. “Yes, I will hold for Master Omar.”

A hush descended on the room, and Odelia switched her phone to speaker mode.

“Hi, Odelia,” said Omar. “This is Omar speaking. I heard about what happened this afternoon and I’ve decided to call an extra meeting tonight to deal with the aftermath of Jaqlyn’s death. I wanted to invite you and your family personally, considering your father seems to be embroiled in this terrible tragedy as well.”

“A special meeting?” asked Odelia.

“We’re not going!” Gran loud-whispered.

“Oh, hi there, Vesta,” said Omar. “You’re invited too, of course. Francine Jones is also coming, her brothers Mike and Kenny, Monica Chanting and her husband Garvin, Barney Sowman, Jenny and Nick Parker and, um, I have a feeling I’m forgetting someone…”

Odelia’s eyes went wide when she realized Omar had just listed all of our suspects.

“I think it will be beneficial to thresh this thing out once and for all, don’t you agree?” Omar continued. “And what better way to heal a lot of broken hearts and pain than by bringing the entire community together to commemorate that unfortunate Jaqlyn?”

“Um, I guess,” said Odelia, not entirely convinced. “So… this is a private meeting?”

“Yes, just the people I’ve mentioned and your family.”

“Are you going to film the whole thing like you always do?” asked Gran, leaning into her granddaughter’s phone and speaking with a touch of rancor.

Omar chuckled.“No, not this time, Vesta. This will be just us. So how about it?”

Odelia seemed to make up her mind.“We’ll be there,” she said.

“Good. See you later.”

“Is Scarlett coming?” asked Gran, but Omar had already disconnected. “If I see Scarlett I’m out of there,” she announced. “Like a flash.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Ma,” said Marge. “We’re in the middle of a family crisis and this is not the time to lose your head. So let’s dispense with the drama, shall we?”

Gran grumbled something that sounded a lot like,“Miss Smartypants,” but shut up.

“I hope Shanille won’t be there,” said Harriet. “If I see Shanille I’m out of there like a flash.” But when Marge raised an eyebrow in her direction she, too, shut up.

This was not the time for frail egos to thump their chests and bay like a pack of wild dogs. Now was the time to come together and save Tex from his terrible predicament.

Chapter 35

Once again we took the road down to Tavern Street to attend one of Master Omar’s meetings, only this time there weren’t as many people as before. The bodyguards were still there, scrutinizing us closely, presumably for signs of concealed weapons or bad intentions, but once we were admitted to the building the usual buzz of activity was conspicuously absent. Instead we were immediately led into the main hall, where chairs had been placed in a circle. Omar was there, officiating the proceedings, and greeting us with warmth and genuine affection, and a few participants had already taken a seat: Jason Blowhard, Francine Jones and two burly men I assumed were her brothers Mike and Kenny, Monica Chanting and husband and… Mayor Butterwick and Father Reilly!

“What are you doing here?” asked Gran as she took a seat next to the priest.

“I was invited,” said Father Reilly. “I may not always see eye to eye with the man, but when I’m cordially invited I find it rude to refuse to grace a meeting with my presence.”