“Okay, then. So where are we so far?” asked Chase, giving Odelia a wink.
“Not very far,” said the Chief. “We talked to everyone involved, except the foursome currently holed up at the Hampton Cove Star, and we’re not much the wiser for it.”
“We did make an arrest,” Chase reminded him. “We have young Olaf behind bars.”
“Pretty sure young Olaf is innocent,” grumbled Odelia’s uncle. “I spent two hours grilling the kid and nothing. My gut feeling is that he’s got nothing to do with this.”
“So let’s list them up,” said Odelia. “Tyson was being paid by Laron Weskit to spy on Chickie. Find out what record companies she was talking to.”
“But would he kill her over that?” asked Chase. “Not likely. Tyson is a security guy, taking money from Weskit, but he had no motive whatsoever to murder Chickie.”
“He did say she could be tough to work for.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean he was going to kill her,” the Chief pointed out.
“No, you’re right. It takes a lot more than being a demanding employer to make people want to wring your neck,” said Odelia. “So who else do we have?”
“I made a list of all the people on staff,” said Uncle Alec, tapping a piece of paper on his desk. “These are the people who were in the house at the time of the murder, and so all of them could theoretically have killed Chickie.”
“Long list?” asked Odelia.
“Too long,” Uncle Alec grumbled. “Cooks, maids, security, gardener, assistants… About a dozen people in all.”
“This is a nightmare. Plenty of suspects but nothing conclusive. And no witnesses.”
“As I said, though, not much of a motive,” said Chase. “These people might not have liked their employer, but there’s not a single one among them with a criminal record.”
“What about the family?”
“Only the mother and the sister were at the house this morning,” said Uncle Alec.
“Motive?”
“Not one that I can see,” said Chase. “Both mother and sister were dependent on Chickie’s success. With her gone, the goose that lays the golden eggs is also gone, and even though they probably stand to inherit a fortune, that money will run out.”
“Her death is likely to generate an enormous income stream, though,” said Odelia.
“In the short term, yes, but not in the long run. And why would Yuki kill her own daughter? Or Nickie kill her sister? I don’t see a motive, do you?”
Odelia shook her head. She didn’t see a motive there, either.
“Moving on, we have Jamie Borowiak. And we have Shannon Weskit.”
“Both have motive and Jamie definitely had opportunity. She was there that morning, and could have come back. And Shannon Weskit could have snuck in unseen.”
“Apparently anyone could have snuck in unseen,” Uncle Alec grumbled.
“What about the coroner’s report?” asked Odelia. “Anything that stands out?”
“Nothing,” said the Chief, sagging a little. “No fingerprints, no DNA—at least not so far. Almost as if our mystery killer is a ghost.” He sighed. “Where are the days when a killer would leave a nice footprint right outside the window? Or a set of fingerprints?”
“All the bad guys watch CSI nowadays,” said Chase.
Odelia and Chase got up as if on cue.“I need to start working on my article,” she said.
“Are your cats all right?” asked Chase.
“Oh, yes, they’re fine. A little shook up, but nothing a bowl of kibble won’t fix.”
“They didn’t find anything either, I assume?” asked Uncle Alec.
“Apart from that clue about Jamie and the fact that the bodyguard was in touch with Laron Weskit, nothing so far,” she admitted.
“Well, at least it’s more than what we found,” said Chase.
“Tell them to keep digging,” said Uncle Alec. “They’ve come through for us before, and I have a feeling we’re going to need every helping paw we can get.” He laughed at his own joke. “Get it? Lend a helpingpaw?” When no laughter ensued, he shook his grizzled head. “Kids these days. No sense of humor.”
Chapter 18
Odelia had dropped us off at the house before racing off again, and frankly I was happy to be home. This sleuthing business can be fun, but today it had taken a lot out of me, and I couldn’t really be bothered to find out who had killed whom, to be honest.
The first thing I did was eat my fill, then I proceeded to this week’s favorite spot, and as I made myself comfortable on the windowsill, which offers a great view of what goes on out in the street, I heaved a contented sigh and finally started to feel like myself again.
Dooley had joined me—plenty of space on the sill—and was smiling benignly.
“Maybe our purpose in life is simply to nap, Max,” he said now.
“You know what, Dooley? I think you’re absolutely right. I mean, some individuals are born to be presidents and leaders of nations, while others, like us, are simply born to nap. And frankly I’m absolutely okay with that. It’s a fate I’m completely at peace with.”
“Me, too,” Dooley said, and my eyes were already starting to drift closed.
“Hey, you guys!” suddenly a shrill voice sounded from the floor. I made the effort to shift my gaze to that particular spot and saw that Harriet and Brutus were among us once more.