31906844db5c02010017a90f3f2ca805

“And very tasty it is, too,” said Dooley. “Thank you, dog.”

“The name is Sasha, and I’d say you’re welcome if I’d had a choice in the matter. As it is, my human seems to like you, so I will not bite you in the ankles. I repeat, I will not bite you in the ankles.”

“Very kind of you,” I said.

“I probably should, though,” said Sasha, indicating we were not in the clear yet. So I took a few quick bites, just in case she changed her mind and went for my ankles anyway. Although, do cats even have ankles? “It’s in the dog rulebook, you know,” Sasha continued.

“What is?” I asked.

“When confronted with an invading feline, go for the ankles. Printed right there in black and white.”

“Right,” I said. Of all the dogs in the world, we had to come across a fanatic and a rule follower. “So what can you tell us about Jeb Pott and the woman he murdered?”

“Yes, do you believe Jeb did it or that he was framed, like Fae seems to think?” Dooley added.

“I like Jeb,” said Sasha. “He’s a decent human being. He once took me to New Zealand on a trip. Only I got kicked out by some politician on account of the fact that I’d neglected to bring along my passport.” She shrugged. “Humans. They’re just weird.”

“Tell us about it,” said Dooley.

At least we agreed on one thing.

“So no, if I’m absolutely honest, I don’t think Jeb could ever murder Camilla.”

“Wait, you knew Camilla?” I asked.

“Sure. I was hers and Jeb’s when they were married. But after the divorce there was so much lawyerly fuss that Jeb decided to give me to Helena and Fae, so here I am.”

“What about Camilla? Didn’t she want you?”

“Not sure, actually. There was some legal wrangling, and the lawyers decided that nothing was decided until everything was decided. About the divorce, I mean. And by then I’d become so accustomed to living here that I’m actually happy nothing was decided.”

It all sounded pretty complicated, and I could tell from the strange look on Dooley’s face he had a hard time following the story, too. But regardless, one thing clearly stood out: here sat yet another individual who was familiar with Jeb and believed he was innocent.

“But then how do you explain what happened?” I asked.

Sasha shrugged.“I can’t. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a lapdog, not a member of a K9 unit. But what I can tell you is that Jeb had a lot of enemies, and I wouldn’t put it past them to pull a dirty trick like this on him.”

“Or on Camilla,” I said. After all, she was the one who was dead right now.

“Or Camilla,” agreed Sasha.

I shared a meaningful look with Dooley.“I think we need to have a long talk with our human, Dooley,” I said.

“I think so, too,” he agreed.

And then we took some more kibble. What? My mother always taught me never to skip a free meal. And I’m nothing if not a momma’s cat.

Chapter 9

Odelia was in her office, typing up her piece on the Camilla Kirby murder, when her boss walked in. Dan Goory, a white-bearded pint-sized man, had been running the Hampton Cove Gazette for so long now people identified him with it. He’d started the paper back in the stone age, and had kept it running all this time, single-handedly writing most of the copy, until he’d started looking for someone to help him lighten his load, and had found, after a lot of trial and error, the right person in Odelia. Her predecessors hadn’t fared as well as she had, but their amicable collaboration had been so successful that there was even talk now of her taking over the paper if or when Dan would finally decide to retire.

She hoped that day would never come, for she knew that running a paper was a different beast from filling its pages with newsworthy stories. As it was, Dan took care of the business side as well as the editing and she was free to write articles people enjoyed to read.

“So Jeb Pott, huh?” said Dan now, in his low gravelly voice, courtesy of smoking a pack a day for years, even though he’d now stopped—doctor’s orders. “Who would have thunk?”

“Not me,” said Odelia, raising her hands from the keyboard and lacing her fingers behind her head. “In fact I was more than a little shocked to hear it.”

“Yeah, me too,” Dan admitted. “Even though Pott is an amateur compared to greats like Olivier and Gielgud.”

“Who?” said Odelia with a slight grin.

“Oh, you barbarian.” He paused, flicking an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve. Today he’d opted for a heliotrope shirt with yellow suspenders, and looked very snazzy. “So what do you reckon? Did he do it?”

“Looks like,” said Odelia. “At least that’s what the police think.”

“We both know the police aren’t always right.”

“We do know that, but this time I think they are.” She ticked off the items on her fingers. “A witness saw the murder—actually witnessed the murder and called it in. Camilla’s blood was all over Jeb, and his prints all over the knife. And he’d invited her to come visit.”

“But why? What was he hoping to accomplish?”