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Now it was her turn to smile.“That’s what you get when you transport a big-city cat to a small town. They tend to underestimate the locals.”

“Yeah, you just might be right about that,” he grunted. “Though the same can be said for the locals. They tend to completely misjudge newcomers. Assign them all kinds of qualities they don’t remotely possess.”

“And what qualities might that be?” she asked sweetly. “Arrogance? Pigheadedness? Refusal to accept the status quo?”

“You seem to forget that the newcomer has a distinct advantage.”

“And what’s that?”

“The advantage of the outside view. A fresh set of eyes on a situation that may look all too familiar to those who grew up in this town, and might miss the obvious staring them in the face.”

She looked up sharply.“Why do I get the impression we’re not talking about that nasty cat of yours?”

“Nasty?” he asked with a chuckle. “There’s nothing nasty about Brutus.”

“He’s been terrorizing my cats,” she said. “Muscling in on their territory and—” She gestured at Harriet “—persecuting their poor, helpless friend.”

“That Persian doesn’t strike me as helpless,” he said. “On the contrary, she seems to enjoy the attention. In fact she downright revels in it.”

“I think she’s simply intimidated. She probably can’t wait to get away from him but is scared he might become aggressive if she makes a move.”

Now it was his turn to frown.“I’ll have you know that Brutus has never in his life needed to resort to strong-arm tactics to get a female’s attention.”

“Well, he’s not in the big city now, is he? He’s in Hampton Cove, where cats are different and might not respond to him the way he’s used to.”

He laughed.“You’re damn right about that. This place is like nothing I’ve ever seen. For one thing, in New York reporters don’t investigate crime.”

“Well, out here they do, so you better get used to it, Detective.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” he said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

She stared at him in surprise. Was he finally seeing things her way?

“Have you interviewed any more suspects?” she asked.

“If I had I wouldn’t tell you,” he said simply.

So much for seeing things her way.“I thought as much. Good thing Uncle Alec keeps me informed, otherwise I’d never be able to nail this killer.”

“Now look here, Miss Poole…”

“No, you look here, Detective. I’m going to catch this killer before you even sniff out your first clue.That’s the way we do things down here.”

“And I’ll have you know, Miss Poole, that you’re in way over your head here. Catching killers is police business, and reporters like you should stick to what they’re good at: writing about mermaids and children’s library wings.”

In spite of herself she had to smile at that. Dan must have posted her articles on the site after she left.“So you’ve been reading my stuff, huh?”

“I have,” he admitted. “I need to soak in the atmosphere so I had to start somewhere. Alec suggested I start with theGazette and take it from there.”

“You forgot about the opening of the new flower shop on Bleecker Street,” she said with a grin. “Possibly some of my best writing to date.”

“You are a great writer,” he admitted. “Which is why you should stick to that, and make sure you keep out of harm’s way.”

“Are you threatening me, Detective?” she asked, her frown returning.

“No, but the killer might, if you get too close.”

“So you’re admitting I’m getting close to solving this case, huh?”

“I’m admitting that you’re not trained to deal with a murderer on the loose, and I’d feel a lot better when you leave the sleuthing to Alec and me.”

They were at a standoff, and stood staring at each other, tension rising. But then Gran stepped in, holding up a tray of hors d’oeuvres and offering one to Chase. “Hors d’oeuvre, Detective Kingsley? I made them myself.”

He finally broke eye contact.“Thanks,” he said, popping one into his mouth.

“Has Odelia been bothering you, Detective?” Gran asked, darting a censorious glance at her granddaughter.

“She’s been making a case for inserting herself into my investigation.”

“Oh, she keeps doing that,” said Gran, clucking her tongue. “She keeps inserting herself where she shouldn’t. That’s the nosy reporter type for you.”

“Gran,” said Odelia warningly. If even her own flesh and blood was turning against her, how could she ever hope to best this overbearing cop?

“What?” asked Gran innocently. “I was just apprising Detective Kingsley of all the facts pertaining to the case. If he’s going to live and work in this town, it’s important he gets the lay of the land.”

“And I, for one, am mighty grateful for that, Mrs…”

“Muffin. Vesta Muffin,” said Gran. “I’m a widow, you know, so if you invited me over for dinner, nobody in town would talk.” She twiddled her ring-free hand in front of Chase, frivolously batting her eyes. “Free as a bird,” she said with a sound that was probably supposed to be a seductive purr but came out like a lascivious growl.

Oh, God, Odelia thought. If Gran was going to throw herself at Chase, the cop’s opinion of her family would sink even lower.