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“This happened six weeks ago,” said Melvin. “We’d just been kicked out of a bar and Jeb and I were lying next to a dumpster in some back alley, Jeb counting his few remaining greenbacks while I was counting my blessings for having found a piece of pepperoni pizza someone had carelessly discarded, when five men walked into the alley, armed with baseball bats. They were looking for Jeb. The leader of the pack had a scar that ran all the way from his right eye to the corner of his mouth, and a tattoo of a scorpion on the side of his neck. Jeb called him Cicero, and they obviously knew each other well.

“Cicero then said that if Jeb didn’t pay back what he owed, he was going to take the bat to his kneecaps, which would have caused Jeb considerable pain, not to mention trouble in his career as an actor. Not many actors can act with two broken kneecaps, obviously.”

“Obviously,” I agreed.

“So Jeb said he was going to get him the money. He said he was selling one of his houses in LA and once the deal was done he’d pay back every cent he owed. Cicero then struck Jeb across the jaw for good measure, and Jeb laughed, saying it was an honor to be beaten up by the famous Cicero. He said to give his regards to Animal, Cicero’s boss.”

“Animal?” asked Dooley. “Cicero’s boss is an animal?”

“I think he’s a human who calls himself Animal,” Melvin explained.

“Weird,” Dooley said, and I agreed with him. Like an animal calling itself Human.

“And what happened next?” I asked, fascinated by this rare glimpse into Hampton Cove’s criminal underbelly.

“Nothing. Cicero and his crew left, and Jeb started belting out a song about cigarettes and alcohol. He seemed to enjoy himself tremendously, and announced he’d carry the scar Cicero had given him like a badge of honor. I could tell there was a hidden sadness lurking underneath his surface gaiety, though,” he added, suddenly becoming philosophical.

“So you think this Cicero or his boss Animal could have killed Camilla Kirby and put the blame squarely on Jeb?” I asked.

“Possible,” Melvin said. “Or he could have decided to murder Jeb and once he arrived changed his mind and murdered Camilla instead. Humans are fickle like that.”

“They are,” I agreed. The story certainly had the ring of truth to it, though it was hard to imagine a rich megastar like Jeb Pott having to borrow money from a notorious gangster. Then again, from what I’d heard it was obvious Jeb had recently fallen on hard times.

The golf cart suddenly came to an abrupt halt and Dooley, Melvin and I were flung against the front of our respective cages. Then the man dismounted the vehicle and opened first our cage, then Melvin’s. He then escorted us towards the front gate of the club and waited patiently until we’d walked out through the gate.

“Rules are rules,” he told us apologetically. “Nothing personal. But rules are—”

“Rules, yes, we get it,” I said, starting to see that this was a man with one of those one-track minds you always hear so much about.

“Well, I gotta be going,” said Melvin as soon as the man had closed the front gate on us. “Other country clubs to hit, other dumpsters to examine.”

“Listen,” I said as he started to walk away.

He glanced over his shoulder.“What?”

“If you ever want to enjoy a great meal, you can visit us at our place.”

“Yeah,” said Dooley. “You’re always welcome, Melvin. We have a very nice human who’ll treat you right. And I wouldn’t be surprised if she threw in a nice bath, too.”

Melvin frowned.“Are you telling me I stink, cat?”

“Oh, no!” Dooley was quick to say. “Not at all!”

“Just… making you an offer,” I said. “An offer you can refuse if you want to, of course. But a nice bath and a bowl full of food are waiting for you if you want.”

The dog’s expression softened. “Thanks,” he said. “Maybe one of these days I’ll take you up on that offer. See ya, boys.”

“See ya, Melvin,” we said, and watched him trudge off in the direction of the road.

“So now what?” said Dooley.

“Now we wait for Odelia to come driving through that gate.”

Flanking the gate were two large statues of lions. It seemed apt, so we each climbed one, stretched out on top, and waited. Cats are great waiters. In fact we can wait for hours. It’s that hunting instinct, honed for millions and millions of years. And then we promptly fell asleep. What? You try being a jungle gym to three kittens. You’d be exhausted, too.

Chapter 26

“So Fae hired you, huh?” said Fitz Priestley with a chuckle. He’d sent his admirers away to practice their sycophancy elsewhere, and now it was just him and Odelia. “She always was a very enterprising young woman.”

“You know her?”

“Of course. I know the whole family. Jeb and I go way back. We were neighbors for years. This was obviously before he divorced his lovely wife and left her for that starlet.”

“Camilla Kirby.”

The director nodded.