9ddba8405c712dc705f6095a3ea49417

And so he had. Abe’s gloved hands were covered in blood, and so was his apron. In fact he looked more like a butcher than a doctor!

So we both screamed some more.

“Call Odelia,” said Abe. “Tell her that her cats somehow got shipped back here.”

“Probably hitched a ride with the body,” said the man who’d opened the door for us.

“Yeah, probably.” He chuckled freely. “Funny.”

I didn’t think it was all that funny, though. Not funny at all.

“Take them in the kitchen,” Abe instructed. “And give them some milk, will you?”

And so the guy picked us both up and carried us out of the horrible dead people freezer. He took us into a kitchen, where it was warm and didn’t smell like a hospital, and gave us a saucer of milk, and a couple of slices of liverwurst. And by the time Odelia finally showed up, we’d both settled down a little from our most terrifying ordeal.

“Oh, my sweet pets,” she said as she knelt down. “What happened to you guys, huh?”

“I got stuck on top of an ambulance,” I said.

“And I kept him company,” said Dooley.

“And then we suddenly found ourselves in a room full of dead people.”

“And Abe with his hands full of blood.”

“And Chickie on an operating table.”

“So horrible!”

“I know, I know,” she said. “Let’s get you guys home, shall we?”

She brought us back to her car and we happily jumped in. To our surprise, Harriet and Brutus sat waiting for us in the backseat. Before Odelia closed the door, though, she said,“Let me just check something. I’ll be back in a sec.” And stalked off.

After a moment, Dooley said,“She’s probably gone to get us some more liverwurst.”

Chapter 15

It had been a long time since Odelia had set foot inside the medical examiner’s office, and she did so with a sense of unease. The clinical feel of the place did little to encourage her to venture into its inner sanctum: the operating room where Abe conducted his autopsies. He was a dedicated professional and actually enjoyed his work, which she found both admirable and alittle hard to fathom. Cutting open dead people seemed like a strange way to make a living. Then again, to each their own, of course.

She found Abe as he removed his plastic gloves. He was humming a little tune. His assistants, meanwhile, returned Chickie to a semblance of good form for the funeral.

“And?” she asked, deciding to ignore the work in progress lest she lose the bagel she’d eaten while driving over here for her urgent cat rescue operation.

“Oh, hey, Odelia,” said Abe as he glanced up. He walked into his office and gestured for her to follow him. The office was a mess, documents strewn about, his desk piled high with work-related files. He sat back for a moment as he frowned. “Um… you’re here for…”

“Chickie Hay? The woman you just examined?”

“Oh, that’s right,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Chickie Hay. Well, as I suspected she died from strangulation. And the person didn’t use a cord or a rope or anything like that.” He held up his hands instead, and wiggled his fingers. “He or she used this.”

Odelia gulped.“Anything on the perpetrator?”

“Nothing yet, except that they must have really hated Chickie. Strangulation usually indicates a personal motive. The killer has to get in there, up close and personal.”

“So was it a he or a she? I mean, you can probably tell from the size of the hands?”

But Abe shook his head. He wasn’t going to allow himself to be pinned down. “I’m sorry. Could be a man. Could be a woman. I can’t tell you with absolute certainty, Odelia.”

She sank down onto a chair.“Incredible. Usually we don’t have any suspects and in this case we have too many.”

“Hasn’t your uncle made an arrest?”

“Yes, but I’m not entirely convinced he’s the person we’re looking for.”

“Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you, then. What about your cats? Are they all right?”

“Yeah, they’re fine. They must have been dozing on top of the ambulance when it took off.”

He chuckled.“Funny little creatures.” He lifted his hands. “Well, if there’s nothing else, I need to write my report. Your uncle is waiting, and I’ll bet a great deal of other people are, too. She was quite the celebrity, wasn’t she, this, um…” He frowned.

“Chickie Hay.”

His face cleared.“That’s right. Chickie Hay. I’m not into her style of music, I have to confess. Pop singer, was she? I’m more of a jazz man myself. This pop music…” He indicated a hand flying right over his head to show her what he thought of pop music. “Here today, gone tomorrow, whereas jazz will always survive the test of time, whether its performers are alive or have been dead for years. Now that’s real music for you.”

She got up.“Thanks, Abe, for giving me the scoop on this.”

“Oh, that’s all right. I know you’re not one of those annoying reporters who are always ready to screw up an investigation by printing stuff they have no right to. Well, good luck with your investigation, and let me know what you find.”

“Will, do, Abe,” she said, and raised a hand in farewell before leaving the office.