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He slipped his iPhone from his back pocket and showed her a snapshot of the note.“We fed it into Google Translate and it spat out this message.”

She took his phone and read out loud, “You deserve to die, Shana Kenspeckle. You are dog excrement. In fact you’re less than dog excrement. You’re the fly on dog excrement. In fact you’re the excrement from the fly on dog excrement. Or the ameba on the fly’s excrement.” It went on like this for a while. The final sentence read, “Hellfire will rain down on you and your filthy brood. This is just the beginning.” She handed him back his phone. “I guess the killer is not a big Kenspeckle fan.”

“The fact that these phrases came out in perfect English means the original message was written in English and then translated with Google Translate. Otherwise only gobbledygook would have come out. Which means—”

“This was a pretty feeble attempt to make it look like a terrorist attack.”

He smiled.“Which tells us the killer isn’t a professional.”

She wondered whether to tell him they were looking for a blood-splattered black robe and mask. But since she couldn’t tell him about the robe without revealing her secret, she decided to keep mum. It didn’t matter anyway, as Clarice hadn’t gotten a look at the killer’s face.

Chase headed for the bedroom and she followed him. She stared down at the bed. The coroner’s people had stripped the sheets for evidence but had left the stained mattress. “The killer was smart,” Chase said. “Abe found traces of chloroform in all the bedrooms. All the Kenspeckles were drugged.”

“What about the film crew?”

“Nope. Not a trace. But since they’re staying at the guest house and aren’t allowed in the main house when shooting wraps that wasn’t necessary.”

“They’re not allowed inside the house?”

“The Kenspeckles have strict rules about it. They cherish their privacy.”

“Except when they don’t. Like when they share every private moment with a worldwide audience.”

He smiled.“Ah, but they only show you what they want you to see.”

She nodded.“So did you check the rooms for prints?” Dumb question. The guy was a bonafide detective. And the killer had probably worn gloves.

“Well, we tried, but the Kenspeckles gave us a lot of lip. Any normal family would have canceled their trip, moved to a hotel until they could catch a flight home, and given us free reign to search the place top to bottom. But the sisters are adamant to stay here and finish the shoot.”

“They’re giving you a hard time.”

“They sure are. And I don’t even know why. It’s almost as if they don’t want us to find the killer.” When she opened her mouth to speak, he said, “And don’t give me that ‘The whole family is in on this’ nonsense, Poole.”

She quickly closed her mouth again. No, that was just a crazy theory.

She glanced at the window, where Clarice must have been watching the killer. Chills ran down her spine. What a horrible scene to watch. A thought occurred to her.“The killer must have known his way around the place.”

Chase nodded, a sparkle in his eye.“Uh-huh.”

“He also knew the film crew would never set foot inside the house after filming was finished for the day. And he also had access to the house.”

“Go on.”

She smiled.“This was an inside job. The killer was either a family member or security personnel. They were the only ones with access.”

“Your uncle Alec was right,” he said with a grin. “You’re pretty astute.”

“Watch me. I’ll catch this killer before you can say ‘fly excrement.’”

“Fly excrement.”

“Smart-ass.”

Chapter 9

Dooley and I searched around for the best vantage point. It had to be clean and comfy, and it had to be high enough so we could have a great view. I caught sight of a fabulous beige crocodile couch. I felt bad for the crocodiles that had lost life and hide, but the couch was easily the best spot in the room, affording 360 vision and a soft, flat surface. It was exactly what we needed. I gave Dooley a nudge and we both hopped up onto the couch, clambered over about a million embroidered throw pillows and settled on the head rest.

All the main principals were gathered on the deck for an impromptu meeting, and Dooley and I settled in to watch. Don’t look so shocked. We’re cats. Lying around and spying on humans is what we do. It had also crossed my mind that there was probably some yummy food to be found in this place, and from here we could look straight into the kitchen. I was pretty sure Kane got the best food money could buy, and I wanted me some of that.

Us cats might not like dogs, but we like to steal their food just fine.

“Look, Max,” said Dooley, pointing to the kitchen. Brutus was chasing Kane, and the dog was doing his utmost to stay out of his clutches.

“Looks like Brutus is trying to talk to Kane,” I said lazily. After all this traipsing around I was starting to feel the strain, and I was ready for a nap. I know I’d told Dooley we’d nap once we caught the killer, but the couch was so comfy, and the sun on our furs so nice and warm, I was feeling drowsy.