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“It’s Fifi,” I said. “She’s been using their litter boxes while we were out.”

Then Dooley took a sniff at his litter box, and said,“It wasn’t Fifi. It was Rufus.”

Odelia closed the kitchen door and looked out, as if expecting Rufus to return for seconds.

Brutus, frowning, sniffed at his litter box.“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said. “I think it’s that dog from down the street. That Cooper something.”

We all stared at Harriet, but she shook her head.“Nope. Mine is Fifi, all right. She seems to have selected my litter box for her own.”

All eyes turned to Gran, four pairs of cat’s eyes included.

“What!” the old lady cried. “So now this is my fault? You’re all nuts!”

And with these words, she returned to bed.

“Apr?s moi, le d?luge,” Tex muttered.

I had no idea what he meant, but it sounded apropos.

Chapter 32

The next morning, all of Hampton Cove was atwitter. Odelia’s article had appeared in theHampton Cove Gazette, and the phone at the office was ringing off the hook. The picture of the werewolf on the front page had clearly stirred up Odelia’s townies, and there was talk of the FBI stepping in, or the army, or even the National Guard.

Odelia’s article about the chicken shed had been held back, as both she and Dan felt it needed more work before they dropped that particular bombshell, too.

“I can’t believe this,” said Dan, shaking his head. He was holding a copy of his own newspaper and staring at the picture of the werewolf.

“Yeah, I found it hard to believe, too,” said Odelia, “until I was face to face with the creature.”

“No, not the werewolf,” said Dan. “Jock! I’ve known the guy all his life. I stood next to the baptismal font, for crying out loud. And now this.”

“Do you think his dad knows?”

“No way. Franklin always treated his animals with kindness and respect. I mean, he was a tough businessman, sure, but he would never allow his chickens to suffer like this.”

“I got a call from a guy who works at the chicken plant,” said Odelia. “He told me some things you’re not going to like, Dan.”

“Come on,” he said, sitting back. “Give it to me straight.”

“The chickens are fed some kind of concoction containing hormones and antibiotics, to make them grow faster, and pack on more meat. It also makes them too sick and too heavy to stand on their feet. And there’s more. A lot more.”

“God,” said Dan. “I have to talk to Jock. I can’t just spring this on him. We need to ask him for an official reaction.”

Odelia nodded.“Let’s publish tomorrow, yeah? We shouldn’t sit on this for too long.”

She’d been afraid Dan would tell her to drop the story, to protect his friend, but to the editor’s credit he’d told her to dig deeper, and by all means pursue the truth, even if it meant exposing Jock.

“I’m starting to wonder now, Dan,” said Odelia, deciding to broach another painful topic.

“If a man who can be so cruel to animals could also be cruel to his wife?” asked Dan, anticipating her reflection.

“It’s a fair question.”

“I know, and it was the first thing that came to mind when you showed me the pictures of those chickens.”

“I don’t think Grace is buried underneath the chicken shed, though,” she said.

“God, Odelia—I hadn’t even thought that far!”

“It would be an obvious place to dispose of a body,” she argued.

Harriet, Brutus and Dooley had sniffed around the shed, and even though the ammonia and chicken dung had seriously hampered their keen sense of smell, they hadn’t picked up anything unusual, and she trusted their judgment implicitly. Whatever happened to Grace and Fabio—they weren’t buried underneath that chicken shed.

“Jock told my uncle that he applied for a building permit to erect three or four more of those sheds,” she said now. “I think it’s important we stop the process of approval in its tracks. It’s only going to cause more suffering for those poor animals.”

“You’re absolutely right. And I’ll get on the phone with the Mayor right away. Tell him about the article we’re about to publish. Get the proper authorities up to speed.”

“I’ll drop by the police station,” she said, getting up. “I want to know what my uncle plans to do about that werewolf.”

Dan smiled.“Now that should be interesting.”

It was. When Odelia arrived at the precinct, dozens of people were shouting at the desk sergeant, who wasn’t a sergeant at all, but the Mayor’s niece Fiona, who clearly wasn’t coping well. The girl, who was a strikingly gorgeous and willowy blonde, was red-faced, her blond tresses sticking to the sides of her sweaty face, and trying to control a situation that was quickly spinning out of control.

“I saw it—clear as day!” a woman was shouting. Odelia recognized her as Blanche Captor, a regular at the police station. She was gesticulating wildly, as she described, to anyone who would listen, her encounter with the werewolf. “I’m lucky it didn’t kill me!”

Odelia, her curiosity spiked, approached the woman.“Mrs. Captor, where did you see the werewolf exactly?”