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Shanille nodded seriously.“I think it behooves us to start taking some preliminary steps,” she said. “You know what humans are like. Today the love light appears in their eyes, and tomorrow they’re already talking to Father Reilly and setting a date for the wedding. So I was thinking that you and Dooley and Harriet and Brutus could act as flower cats, and so can Kingman. You know,” she added when I merely stared at her. “You walk behind the bride and groom, festooned with flowers. It’ll look lovely, trust me. And one of you will have to carry the veil—which might prove a little hard,” she said, more to herself than to me, “as you can’t actually carry the veil. Unless… Oh, I’ve got it! You can carry the veil between your teeth. So do you want to do the honors, or Dooley? Probably Dooley, right? He’s Gran’s cat, after all. Dooley!” she bellowed before I could stop her.

“What is it?” asked Dooley as he came tripping up anxiously.

“Here, hold this,” said Shanille, and promptly stuck a piece of paper she’d found on the ground between Dooley’s teeth. “Now walk for me,” she instructed.

Dooley stared at me, but then did as Shanille had instructed and walked.

“Very cute,” said Shanille, nodding. “Though you need practice. Why don’t we meet tomorrow at the church and we can discuss this in detail.” And before I could protest, she’d already turned on her heel and was stalking off, looking every inch the busy choir leader that she was.

Dooley stared at me, then dropped the piece of paper, which was a flyer for one of Randy Hancock’s fitness videos I now saw.

“What was all that about, Max?” asked my friend.

“Um…” I didn’t really want to get into it, as I was pretty sure it would only serve to upset him. But then Shanille suddenly returned and said, “Practice at home if you can, Dooley. If you’re going to be Vesta and Wilbur’s flower cat and official veil carrier at the wedding, you need to practice, practice, practice!” And then she was off again.

Dooley slowly turned to me, his face falling.“Max!” he cried. “Gran is getting married!”

Chapter 15

If Odelia thought their new guest’s behavior was a little strange, she decided not to show it. The man was probably under such a great deal of pressure he wasn’t acting normal.

She’d arrived downstairs to surf on her laptop and prepare for tomorrow’s interviews. Before she could dig into her interviewee’s profiles, though, her mom and dad dropped by, with Mom carrying a boxy VHS tape that looked really ancient.

“Is he here?” asked Mom, keeping her voice down as one does when visiting a sickly patient laid up in bed. “I thought Tex could take a look at Randy and maybe find out what kind of poison they used on him.”

“I already told you, honey,” said Dad. “If he wants to know what poison was administered he needs to go to the hospital so they can run the appropriate tests.”

“All I’m asking is for you to take a look, Tex,” said Mom, sounding a little irritable. “You are a doctor, aren’t you?”

“That, I am,” said Dad with a slight sigh.

“So where is he?” asked Mom, more insistent. She held up the VHS tape. “I thought I’d ask him to sign my tape.”

“He’s upstairs resting,” said Odelia. “He received another message, this time asking for money in exchange for the antidote.”

“Oh, dear,” said Mom, clutching a hand to her face. “How much do they want?”

“Ten million dollars.”

“Ten million dollars!” said Mom, her eyes sparkling. “You know what? If you don’t mind I’ll go and see him. The poor man is probably feeling blue.” And before Odelia could stop her, she was already on her way upstairs.

“She hasn’t stopped talking about Randy,” said Dad morosely. “It’s Randy this and Randy that. She’s obsessed with that man.”

“Do you think you can help him?” asked Odelia. “With the poisoning I mean?”

“I can take a look,” said Dad reluctantly. “Why did he come to you?”

“He saw me on the news when I helped solve the Passion Island case.”

“You’re really making a name for yourself as a detective, honey,” said her dad, sounding proud. “Maybe you should quit the paper and go into business for yourself?”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” said Odelia with a smile. “I’m not a detective, Dad. I’m a reporter, and if from time to time I can do my bit to help solve a case, that’s gravy. But I’m not going to start a detective agency so I can lurk in bushes trying to catch unfaithful spouses.”

“Yeah, I guess most detective work comes down to that, doesn’t it?”

“That and corporate espionage. And I’m not interested.”

“Listen—I wanted to ask your advice. I was thinking about hiring a receptionist. A real receptionist this time.”

“And fire Gran?”

“Yes. What do you think?”

“I think you should probably do what you think is right, Dad.”

“Your grandmother is the worst receptionist in the world, honey. And I think it’s time I replaced her with a professional.” He dropped his voice. “Though now that she’s dating Wilbur, maybe I won’t have to actually tell her she’s fired. Maybe she’ll go and assist him at the store—God help the poor schmuck.”