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“Harlan doesn’t agree with me, by the way,” said Opal. “He says I should go to the cops. But I can’t. I worked too long and hard to let my company go belly-up, just because some nutjob out there has decided to draw a target on my back.” She leaned forward and grabbed Odelia’s hands. “Promise me you will catch this person, Odelia. Marilyn told me there isn’t a case you can’t solve—she says you’ve got the touch. You’re the real deal.”

Odelia gave the talk show host a reassuring smile.“Of course. I’ll find whoever is behind this, Opal. You have my word.”

Then Opal turned to Gran.“And please be discreet about it. No one can find out what’s going on, you hear? Absolutely no one.” She then leaned around Gran to give Hank a hard look. “That goes for you, too, buddy boy. Not a peep from you, understood?”

Hank took the straw out of his mouth and paused from sucking on his umpteenth milk carton.“A peep about what, ma’am?”

Chapter 6

In the second limo, which followed closely behind the first one, the conversation had quite naturally turned to a single topic: Hank.

“Who the hell is this guy anyway?” Alec asked again.

“And who are his parents?” asked Marge. “Where does he live? What does he do?”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about Hank if I were you,” said Chase. “I’m sure Vesta will get tired of the kid soon enough. Just like that guy she used to date—what’s his name…”

“Leo,” said Tex.

“No, Dick,” said Marge.

“Rock,” was Alec’s opinion.

“Well, whatever his name was, he’s gone, and this Hank kid will befall the same fate. Just you wait and see.”

“I’m not so sure,” said Marge. “She seems to be very fond of him.”

“She was fond of Leo, too,” said Chase, “and Rock and Dick.”

“I think she told me she’s angry with Dick, because he told her he was Beyonc?’s choreographer but then it turned out he wasn’t Beyonc?’s choreographer at all.”

“Dick explained all that to me,” said Tex, who happened to be Dick Bernstein’s doctor. “He never told her he was Beyonc?’s choreographer. That was a misunderstanding. He said he wouldn’t mind being Beyonc?’soceanographer if she decides to take that trip around the world with her family the newspapers have been writing about.”

“Oh, that’s right. Dick used to be an oceanographer,” said Marge.

“It was all just a big misunderstanding,” said Tex. “And Dick has apologized but Vesta being Vesta she’s refusing to even talk to him—or Rock, who she feels is also to blame because he should have told her Dick can’t dance.”

“Well, I just hope Hank isn’t a serial killer,” Uncle Alec grunted.

“He doesn’t look like a serial killer,” said Chase.

“And how would you know what a serial killer looks like?”

“Well, I’ve seen them on TV plenty of times,” Chase said. “The impossible good looks, the blue eyes, the ‘aw-shucks’ goofiness.” He paused. “Now that you mention it, you’re right. Hank’s got serial killer written all over him.”

“Funny story,” said Tex. “When Vesta introduced Hank to me just now I’m pretty sure he called her Vestal.” When no one laughed, he added, “Vestal? Like in Vestal Virgin? No?”

“I don’t care what he calls her,” said Alec. “I just hope she doesn’t wake up one morning to find that the little punk has cut her head off in the middle of the night.”

“If he cuts her head off she wouldn’t be able to wake up, though, right?” said Marge.

“True,” Alec admitted.

And having exhausted the topic of Hank, they devoted the rest of the trip to wondering why Opal Harvey would have possibly hired Odelia. The general consensus was that she’d found a skeleton in her basement and wanted Odelia to figure out where it had come from—seeing as Odelia had gained some notoriety in that particular field.

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They’d arrived at Opal’s mansion, and as the limo zoomed through the gates Odelia glanced around and marveled at the beauty of her host’s gardens. She thought she could spot a waterfall nearby, and plenty of greenery covering the large domain surrounding the main house, which, when it finally loomed up behind the bend, turned out to be more of a manor than a house. Built in Tudor style, with the exposed wood framework and the steeply pitched gable roofs, it could probably house not one but a dozen Opals.

“Finally. Home sweet home,” said Opal with a contented sigh as the limo’s tires crunched the blond gravel on the drive and eased to a full stop with nary a jerk.

“Nice place you got here,” said Gran as she peered at the impressive building.

Opal laughed a full-throated laugh.“Yeah, it’s not too shabby,” she agreed.

Four cats eagerly sprang from the limo, and as they trod towards the house, halted in their tracks when the door swung open and a tiny ginger cat appeared on the steps.

“And that’s my own precious Prunella,” said Opal, a warm purr in her voice. “Contrary to you, I only have my one precious darling, but I love her to death.”

“She must be quite old by now,” said Gran.