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Just then, a loud meowing sound had them both look up in alarm.

“What do you mean by going off on an investigation without telling me!” a sharp voice demanded.

It was Harriet, and she did not look happy.

Chapter 15

We met up with Odelia again when she came walking out of the First Financial Crest, as I thought she would, and when I saw the puzzled look on her face, I knew she’d hit upon some important clue.

“What happened?” I asked therefore.

“Looks like I just stumbled on a motive for Dino’s murder,” she said. “But let’s not talk now. People might think I’m nuts.”

“We talked to Kingman,” Dooley announced, “and he said the lady who used to have a shop across the street was in love with Wilbur, and Dino convinced her son to sell and now she’s in a nursing home and the hotel was built where the shop used to be, and Wilbur probably killed Dino because hewanted to take revenge for losing the love of his life.”

Odelia frowned as she processed this.

“I really don’t think this is a valid theory,” I told her. “For one thing I’m sure that Wilbur never had a love of his life. He’s had hundreds, and they flicker out the moment they’re out of sight. And second, this is all ancient history. If Wilbur wanted to take revenge on Dino Wimmer he would have done so a long time ago.” Odelia nodded, to indicate she’d heard what I said, and when I asked, “Where are we going?” she held her hand in front of her mouth and said quietly, “Talk to the boyfriend.”

“Oh, we’re going to visit Chase?” said Dooley. “Cool.”

“Not my boyfriend. Rose’s boyfriend. He works at the Seabreeze Music Center.”

Which seemed like the logical place for a musician to work, of course, as the Seabreeze Music Center is our local art center and concert venue. The future Mr. Rose Wimmer was probably rehearsing for a concert he was going to stage there.

When we walked in, though, and Odelia asked at the reception desk where she could find Cole Donalds, she pointed to the concession stand right across from her desk. And when we approached the stand, a guy with a funny little paper hat greeted us and asked if we preferred our popcorn salty or sweet.

“Cole Donalds?” asked Odelia.

“Yep, that’s me,” said the guy.

Odelia held out a hand and said,“My name is Odelia Poole, and your girlfriend asked me to look into the death of her dad.”

“Oh,” he said, and blinked.

He was one of those guys who like to wear their hair a little too long, and he also seemed to have a penchant for hair gel. He had thick dark brows that met in the middle, and I could see he normally wore a piercing in his nose and one through his lip but he’d taken them out—presumably because it might scare off the children.

“Why is his hair so shiny, Max?” asked Dooley. “Do you think he’s forgotten to wash it this morning?”

“It’s a certain look,” I said. “Guys sometimes like their hair to look like that. They think it makes them more attractive to girls.”

“I think it makes him more attractive to shampoo salespeople.”

“Is there somewhere we can talk?” asked Odelia.

“Um, actually I’m working right now,” said the kid, who came across much younger than his age. He glanced around. “We could sit over there,” he suggested, indicating a small lounge area where people could sit and wait for the concert or show to start.

“So this is a concert hall,” said Dooley, as he glanced up at the many posters that adorned the walls of the cavernous entrance area.

“And a cinema,” I said.

“So maybe Odelia could take us to see a movie here once? I think it would be nice to look at a movie on the big screen.”

“If you want we can sneak in and take a peek now,” I suggested.

“Are you sure? Don’t you think we should stick around and help Odelia with her interview?”

“I’m sure Odelia will be fine without us,” I said, and so we were off, sneaking past the ticket guy and into the venue proper, then ducking through the first doors we could find and suddenly we were in a very large darkened room, where rows of chairs had been placed, and a movie was playing on the big screen in front.

“Oh, wow,” said Dooley as he craned his neck to take it all in. “This is something else, Max.”

“Yeah, very different from watching a movie at home,” I agreed.

“Oh, wow,” he repeated as we took a seat underneath two nearby seats and watched the screen intently. It was one of those action movies, where people shoot a lot at other people, and chase each other around across the roofs of houses and jump from one roof to the next and from time to time almost but not quite fall into the abyss.

“Amazing,” Dooley murmured as we hunkered down and tried to figure out who the bad guy was and who the good guy was.

Not everyone was as engrossed in the movie as we were, though, for suddenly I became aware that the people occupying the chairs we had selected to use as an impromptu hiding place were discussing the death of Dino Wimmer.

“I think the daughter did it,” one person was saying.

“The daughter? But why?”

“Because she was the only one who was in the house, duh.”