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“Is that right?” said Uncle Alec, looking amused at being upstaged.

“Jeb and Helena met twenty-five years ago in Italy. He was filming a movie out there and she had a small part. She played his nurse, tasked with nursing him back to health after his fighter jet was shot down by the Germans. It was a World War II drama.”

“Right,” he said. “Anyway, the front gate can only be opened either from the main house, where Helena and her daughter live, or from the lodge, where Jeb was staying.”

“So Camilla arrived at the gate, Jeb let her in and…”

“Killed her, yeah. Must have happened soon after she arrived. Abe puts time of death around four o’clock.”

“Who called it in?” she asked as she surveyed the frenzied scene. A stretcher was now being carried out, and she turned away her head. She might be there to report on a crime but that didn’t mean she reveled in this kind of death and mayhem. She could write a good article without mentioning all the gore other reporters seemed to salivate over.

“That’s the weirdest thing,” said Uncle Alec, scratching his scalp with his pencil. “Anonymous phone call. Neighbor walking his dog at the time of the murder. Said he heard a scream and took a closer look. Said he saw a man attacking a woman. So he called it in.”

“No idea who the witness is?”

“No idea. Which isn’t unusual,” he hastened to say when he saw her skeptical expression. “Some people just don’t want to get involved in anything to do with the police.”

“So he actually saw the murder—actually saw Jeb murder his ex-wife?”

“Uh-huh.” He groped around for his reading glasses. “Where are the darn things?” he grumbled. Odelia plucked them from the top of his head where he’d just put them and he gave her a grateful grin. “Thanks, hon.” He frowned at his notes. “Here it is. Caller said he heard a woman scream bloody murder. Said a man who looked like Jeb Pott attacked her.”

“So there’s a witness to the murder,” she said, deflating. She’d hoped against hope that Jeb was innocent, but it was becoming more and more obvious that he was guilty.

“I’d be more satisfied if I could talk to this witness, of course,” said Uncle Alec. “But with all the evidence we have right now there’s no doubt Jeb Pott will be convicted of murdering his ex-wife in cold blood.” He lowered his voice. “We also found a ton of cocaine in the house, along with at least a dozen other illegal substances and crates full of hard liquor and booze. If all this stuff shows up on Jeb’s tox screen the guy was high as a kite when he did what he did. Maybe he didn’t even realize what he was doing.”

Odelia nodded. More proof that the stories of Jeb’s substance abuse were true.

“Honestly, Odelia, this is a guy who went all Charles Manson on that poor woman. She never stood a chance. The moment she walked into this lodge she was a dead woman.”

Chapter 6

Dooley and I idly inspected the terrain that surrounded the lodge. It mainly consisted of ferns, wild geraniums and different types of grasses. It all looked very inviting for a nap.

“I don’t like it, Max,” said Dooley, using one of his favorite phrases.

“I don’t like it either,” I intimated. “This Jeb guy is a terrific actor. I thought he was great inCaptain Blood and those westerns. I never get tired of watching his movies.”

“I don’t mean Jeb,” said Dooley. “It’s the kittens. I don’t think I like them very much.”

“Which is only natural,” I assured him. “Nobody likes kittens, Dooley. Except humans, of course.”

“Odelia likes them.”

“Case in point. That’s because kittens have a tendency to play on humans’ heartstrings. They tug those strings so hard they leave those poor humans giddy with affection and a distinct sense of dubious attachment to the furry little creatures.”

“They’re very rude,” said Dooley. “And they don’t respect us older cats.”

“No, they don’t.”

Even before we’d left the house to go on this fact-finding mission with Odelia, the threesome had used my water bowl to dunk a paper ball into and had emptied out my bowl of Cat Snax. And when Odelia had refilled my bowl, and had placed three smaller bowls, one for each kitten, they’d finished their own bowls then mine in one fell swoop!

“No respect at all,” I agreed with my buddy.

“They’re taking over the house, Max. They’re even peeing in the corners, marking off their territory—our territory!”

“I know,” I sighed. “But what can we do? Odelia loves them to death—even though she only met them this morning.”

“We need to teach them some manners, Max. Teach them to respect their elders.”

“I know, but Odelia strictly forbade me to do exactly that.”

“But we can’t just let them walk all over us!” he cried, indicating just how riled up he was. Dooley is usually a very peaceable cat, and this proved how he was being pushed to the brink and beyond by our unexpected guests, just like I was. “Maybe we should send in Brutus to deal with the three little brutes,” Dooley said now. “Or Harriet—or both!”