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“Turns out they weren’t after Charlie after all. Just a lovers’ tiff gone horribly wrong. One of the female bodyguards was involved with two of the male bodyguards, and one of them killed the other one and then killed himself with the same gun that he used to kill his rival in love. Or at least that’s what it looks like at this point.”

Mom looked up sharply.“What it looks like? What do you mean?”

She threw up her hands.“You know how I get these hunches? Chase used to make fun of them, but they’re very real. And not just when the cats tell me stuff either. I could have sworn that this Toby Mulvaney was telling the truth when he said he didn’t do it. And we talked to Regan Lightbody as well—she’s the woman both men were in love with—and she says neither Ray Cooper or Toby ever showed violent tendencies. She was deeply shocked that Toby would kill Ray. Said it was simply not in his nature to do such a thing.”

“What does Chase think?”

“Chase is happy that the case is closed and he never has to set foot inside Dieber Castle ever again.”

Her mother laughed.“Dieber Castle? Is that what they call it?”

“That’s what Dieber calls it. Oh, Mom, you should see the guy. You wouldn’t like him. He’s this bratty, annoying, self-absorbed pop star. A kid, really. Worse than you can imagine. I think I’ll never be able to listen to his music again without remembering what a pain he is.”

“You have to separate the art from the artist, honey. I’ll bet if you met movie stars you wouldn’t be able to watch a single movie anymore. And the same goes for musicians.”

“Oh, and I lost Diego,” she said, deciding to pour her heart out now that she was going so well. “Dieber went on a catnapping rampage last night and I only managed to retrieve Harriet and Shanille.”

Mom checked the recipe in the latest cookbook she’d bought and frowned. “So much sugar. That can’t be right. Perhaps I’ll use half.” She glanced up. “Diego is not a very nice cat, honey. Maybe it’s for the best that he’s gone missing.”

“But I can’t just give him up. He belongs to Chase—Chase’s mother, actually.”

“So?”

“So Chase asked me to take care of him. I can’t go losing his cats, Mom. What kind of person loses another person’s cat?”

“Not all cats are created equal, Odelia. And Diego is clearly not cut from the same cloth as the others. So I say good riddance, and if Chase doesn’t like it—tough luck. He’s the one who foisted his cat on you, so I can’t imagine he cares either way.”

Odelia placed her head on the kitchen counter, enjoying the coolness of the marble against her heated cheek. She had to admit she’d never liked Diego all that much, and apparently he’d been wreaking havoc on her menagerie, stirring up trouble between Harriet and the others, and pestering Max by stealing his food, his water, his litter box and even his space on the bed. She’d hoped the feud would be short-lived, like the one between Max and Brutus had been, but her mother was right. As cats went, Diego was not a very nice one.

“Too much butter,” her mother was muttering. “Clogging up Tex’s arteries is not what I promised him when we exchanged wedding vows. Who wrote this? A serial killer?”

Just then, Grandma walked in, her iPhone glued to her ear as usual. Ever since Dad had gifted her the phone, she’d become an iPhone addict, taking the thing to bed with her and even wondering if she could take it into the shower. “Yes, Mr. President. Oh, but of course, Mr. President. I couldn’t agree more, Mr. President.” She held her hand over the phone and said, as an aside, “It’s the President.”

“I thought as much,” said Odelia, amused.

Grandma returned to her most important conversation.“You will have to sit down with him at some point, Mr. President,” she said as she took a seat next to Odelia and settled in for the duration. “Yes, everybody will be there. The American President, the German Chancellor, the French President, the Chinese General Secretary, the British Prime Minister, His Holiness Pope Francis, of course.” She rattled off a long list of dignitaries and Odelia exchanged a puzzled look with her mother, who merely shrugged and frowned at her recipe some more.

“Is she really talking to the President?” Odelia whispered, not wanting to interrupt her grandmother’s apparently important phone call.

“President Putin,” Mom clarified. “She’s been trying to reach him all morning, and she’s finally succeeded.”

“Putin? The Russian dude?”

“Yep. For some reason she was very anxious he be included in her list of acquaintances.”

“But… why? What’s going on?”

“I haven’t got a clue, and neither has Tex,” said her mother. “We’re just happy she’s found herself a hobby that doesn’t involve bees or horny old goats or running up a huge credit card bill. Ever since Tex got her that phone and a great deal on a mobile phone plan, it’s been pure bliss. We hardly see her anymore. Just drops by for breakfast, lunch and dinner and that’s it.” She put her index finger and thumb together. “Model citizen.”