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“Maybe she lost them. My sister was notoriously careless with her things.”

“Or someone could have stolen them,” Odelia suggested. “They look valuable.”

“It’s mostly the emotional value. Because they were Gram’s.” She got up. “Don’t worry, they’ll turn up sooner or later. But maybe not in time for the wake.”

As they walked out of the dressing room, Nickie switched off the lights and gave Odelia a sad smile.“I miss her, you know. As if a part of me is gone now.”

“I’m sorry,” said Odelia, placing a consoling hand on Nickie’s arm.

And then the young woman broke down in tears, possibly for the first time since her sister died.“It’s only starting to dawn on me now,” she said. “Chickie’s gone. She’s really gone and I’ll never get to see her again.”

They walked along the corridor when Odelia thought she caught a glimpse of Max and Dooley. Good. Hopefully they’d find a fresh clue. Yuki and Nickie deserved to get some closure, and the only way to accomplish that was by finding the real killer.

Chapter 33

We decided to forgo another meeting with the peacock and to go in search of Boyce Catt instead. It had occurred to me we’d never offered him our condolences and now seemed as good a time for that as any.

We found him in the garden, seated on one of those rustic cast-iron benches, contemplating his fate, and looking very philosophical.

“Hey there, little doggie,” said Dooley, and for once the dog had no retort ready about giving Dooley two nips in his buttocks, or maybe even as much as four.

“Hey, cats,” he said, sounding as dejected as he appeared.

“We never told you how sorry we are about the death of your human,” I said.

“Yes, and we’d also like to tell you that we discovered who did it,” Dooley added.

I could see how eager Dooley was to tell the story of the letter, so I added,“Actually Dooley here discovered the missing clue. He discovered the letter that proves that Jamie murdered your human.”

“Huh,” he said. “Is that a fact?” He didn’t sound appropriately impressed.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? They arrested Jamie, the woman who murdered your human.”

“That’s great,” he said, and sighed deeply. “I’ve been adopted by Nickie, you know.”

“Nickie? But I thought you belonged to the whole family?”

“No, I was Chickie’s, and now that she’s gone, Nickie has decided to adopt me. She’s been adopting a lot of Chickie’s stuff lately. Her clothes, her car… me.”

“Well, that’s very nice of her, isn’t it? After all, someone needs to take care of you, so why not Nickie?”

“Don’t you like Nickie?” asked Dooley. “Isn’t she nice?”

“Oh, she’s nice enough, I guess, but not as nice as Chickie. Chickie was special, and we shared a very special bond. And now Nickie seems eager to replicate that bond but it can’t be done. I can’t simply transfer my affections to a new human at the drop of a hat. It takes time. I have to mourn Chickie and then, maybe, I’ll be ready to let a new human into my heart.”

I understood where he was coming from. If anything would ever happen to Odelia, I’d have a hard time transferring my affections, too. It probably couldn’t even be done.

“At least you can stay in the same home, with the same family,” I said. “Imagine having to move into a completely different home with a different family that you don’t know. “

“Yeah, I guess there’s that,” he admitted. “Though they’re going to sell the house and move west again. Yuki never liked it out here. Too chilly. And not enough sun. She prefers California, and that’s where we’re going after the funeral.”

“So you’re all moving away?”

“Yeah, the whole circus is heading west.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

He shrugged.“It’s okay. Maybe even for the best. After all, with Chickie gone the house just doesn’t feel the same. And being in these familiar places I’m constantly reminded of her, you know. So maybe it’s better to move someplace new, where everything won’t remind me so much of her.”

We decided to leave Boyce Catt to pine for Chickie in peace.

“So it’s true that dogs feel their human’s loss more intensely than cats,” I said.

“He does seem to miss Chickie a lot,” said Dooley.

“Poor doggie.”

“Yeah, poor little doggie.”

Look, I know I’ve said in the past that I don’t like dogs all that much, but there are always exceptions to the rule, and clearly here was one of those exceptions. Boyce Catt was nice. In fact it wasn’t too much to say he was almost like a cat. An honorary cat.

We wandered around a little aimlessly, and decided to take a look inside. Maybe Boyce Catt had a nice bowl of food he hadn’t touched. So we walked in through the kitchen door and went in search of Boyce Catt’s bowl. The kitchen didn’t yield any snacks or nibbles, though, and then Dooley had a bright idea—he was on fire today.

“Remember how Boyce Catt said he lives with Nickie now?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So maybe his food is in her room!”

“Great thinking, Dooley,” I said, and so we padded up the stairs.