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“No, but it’s going to make them feel better,” said Dooley. “I’m not saying they should get a cat, though of course that would be the smart thing to do. They can get a dog, if that’s what they want. But they should definitely get a pet—either a cat or a dog.”

“I think it’s all very very sad,” I said with a sigh. “And all this could probably have been avoided if only this man Dino would have opened up to his wife. Why is it, Dooley, that men are such lousy communicators sometimes? Why is it that when they get in trouble they put on a brave face and suck it up?”

“Is this a rhetorical question, Max, or are you really asking me?”

“I’m really asking you, Dooley.”

“Well, I think it’s because the human male is flawed. Deeply flawed. I saw a documentary on the Discovery Channel about ants last week. Did you know that in an ant colony the most important ant is the queen? The males just run around building the colony and making sure the queen is comfortable and taken care of at all times. But humans seem to have everything backward. The human male seems to think he’s the number one—the star of the show. And that females are put on earth to serve him.”

“I’m sure not all males feel that way, Dooley,” I said, wondering if it wasn’t time to remove the Discovery Channel from Dooley’s viewing schedule.

But my friend wasn’t done yet. “So people like Dino Wimmer think they’re the star, and they act accordingly—heaping lots of pressure onto their shoulders. Until they collapse under the strain.” He shook his head. “Sad business, Max—extremely sad.”

“Well, at least no crime was committed,” I said as I placed my head on my front paws. Usually when Odelia has us come out on these outings it’s because some murder has been committed, and she relies on us to dig out precious clues and whatnot.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Max,” said Dooley. “Rose says her father was murdered, remember?”

“Yeah, but that’s just the emotion talking,” I pointed out. “I’m sure this was a suicide—plain and simple.”

“I still think it was the sausage that did it,” Dooley said.

I sighed and said,“Oh, Dooley.” And then I gobbled up another piece of turkey.

Chapter 6

The next morning Odelia arrived at the office bright and early. She’d already been outlining a piece about Dino Wimmer’s suicide to put up on the Gazette website when she walked in and was surprised to be greeted by a new face seated at the reception desk—a reception desk that hadn’t been occupied for God knows how long.

“Hi!” said the young woman, giving Odelia a cheery welcome. She was slim and trim and sported blue-rimmed glasses and generally looked like a secretary, not a reporter.

“Hi,” said Odelia. “I’m sorry but… who are you?”

“I’m Kimberly,” said the woman, and got up to shake Odelia’s hand. “And you must be Odelia. I’ve heard so much about you—couldn’t wait to meet you in person.”

“Oh, hey, Odelia,” said Dan Goory, joining them at the desk. “I see you’ve met Kimberly. Kimberly Moraga, this is Odelia Poole. Odelia, meet Kimberly Moraga, our new colleague.” The aged editor grinned behind his long white beard and said, “Step into my office a moment?”

So Odelia stepped into her editor’s office, wondering why he hadn’t told her he was hiring a receptionist, and took a seat in front of his desk.

“Look, if you needed a receptionist I could have done the job for you,” she said. “I mean, it’s not as if we get a lot of visitors, and it would have saved you money.”

“I didn’t hire Kimberly as a receptionist, Odelia,” said Dan as he turned this way and that in his swivel chair. “I hired her as a reporter.”

“A reporter? But…”

“I know, I know,” said Dan, holding up his hands in an appeasing gesture. “I said I wasn’t going to expand. I was going to slowly ease myself into early retirement so you could take over. Well, the thing is, Odelia, that I’ve finally seen the flaw in my reasoning.”

“The flaw?”

“Yes! Look at me!”

She looked at him and blinked.

“I’m not old, am I?”

“Um…”

“I’m only sixty-nine, Odelia. People live to be a hundred these days. And live well! Doctors, it’s amazing what they can do. I take my vitamins. I eat my vegetables. I can do this for at least another twenty or thirty years. So instead of winding down, I’m expanding!”

“Expanding,” she said, as she wondered if the man had lost his mind.

“Exactly! I’m going to distribute the Gazette all along the coast. I’m going to rename it the Hamptons Gazette. I’m going to hire more reporters, and correspondents, and salespeople, and I’m not going to stop until we’re the number-one selling paper on the South Shore!”

“Oh-kay,” she said cautiously. Yep, definitely gone completely bananas.

“So Kimberly is my first hire—straight out of journalism school, I might add. A bright and clever young lady with a promising future ahead of her. And she’s just the first of many, many more. Oh, and we’re moving into a new office.”

“A new office!” she cried.

“Yes! You know that new office tower they’re planning to build behind Town Hall?”

“Corinthian Tower?”