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Just then, a flea jumped from Dooley in the direction of the feral cat. Clarice snatched it up in midair, then flicked it into her mouth and chomped down.“Not a lot of meat,” she grumbled. “Got any more?”

I gulped.“You’re not afraid they’ll suck your blood?”

She laughed.“A flea suck my blood! I suck their blood! That’s why they never come near me.”

I had noticed she wasn’t wearing a collar. Then again, if her human was the kind of person to throw her off a cliff to leave her to die and rot, he probably wouldn’t take her to Vena’s for flea treatment. “You don’t have fleas?” I asked.

“Do you see a flea on me?” she asked, and I had to admit I didn’t. Fleas were probably more afraid of Clarice than she was of the little parasites. “Now are you gonna tell me what you want or are you gonna stand there yapping about your sad little lives?”

“We’re looking for Shadow,” said Dooley.

“Look behind you. But be quick,” she quipped.

Dooley did look behind him, then back at Clarice.“I don’t get it,” he said.

“Notour shadow,” I clarified. “Shadow. She’s the Most Fascinating Cat in the World, and she’s gone missing. She belonged to the Most Fascinating Man in the World but he got blown up, and if we can find her we want to ask her if she saw who killed her human.”

“Good riddance,” Clarice grunted. “I would blow up my human if I had the chance.”

“Who was your human, Clarice?” asked Dooley, interested.

In response, she merely gave him a dirty look.“I’ve seen Shadow,” she said. “Seen her rooting around my dumpsters, looking for scraps. Sad little creature. Namby-pamby cat. Scurrying away into the shadows like the kind of thing you find when you turn over a rock.”

“Where have you seen her?” I asked, my heart lifting with hope and excitement.

Clarice gestured vaguely.“Around. You’ll have to hurry, though. Cat looked absolutely mangy. Mangy and derelict. Wouldn’t surprise me if she’s dead by now.” She nodded knowingly. “It takes a special kind of cat to survive on these mean streets, boys. Trust me when I tell you these streets are unforgiving and they are relentless. No place for sissy cats like you. Or Shadow.” She gave us a stern look. “Just giving it to you straight. No fairy tales. That way you won’t be disappointed when you come upon her emaciated, rat-infested, maggot-crawling carcass in a gutter on the edge of town, nothing but a piece of road kill.”

Like I said, time spent with Clarice is always a joy to the heart and balm to the soul.

Chapter 24

The interview with the four remaining most interesting men concluded, Odelia decided to swing by the house for a bite to eat. Chase dropped her off and continued on to the station house, wanting to discuss the case with Uncle Alec. And she’d just inserted her key in the door and stepped inside when she became aware that she wasn’t alone.

Someone else was in there with her, and it wasn’t Max or Dooley.

“Who’s there?” she called out, afraid some burglar had decided to go for her meager belongings. They wouldn’t find much to satisfy their thieving tastes. Unless they were fellow cat owners and excited by the prospect of getting their kibble in bulk at the local Walmart or Costco, they’d be sorely disappointed by their sad little haul.

She took a firm hold on the baseball bat she liked to keep next to the front door—one of Chase’s contributions to interior decorating—and took a tentative step. Her house was a smallish affair, and from her position in the hallway she had a good view of the living room, the kitchen, and even the backyard through the sliding glass doors. Just then, the stairs creaked, and she gasped. Someonewas in here! Score one for the Poole survival instinct.

“Show yourself!” she yelled. “I’m armed and extremely dangerous!”

She lifted the baseball bat, wondering if she was holding it right and also wondering if she’d have both the time and the gumption to take a swing at this daytime intruder.

Just then, a person came stomping down the stairs and she raised the bat over her head.“I’m—I’m not kidding!” she cried. “I’ve got a weapon and I’m not afraid to use it!”

“Where do you keep the sheets?” asked Grandma, stepping out from the stairwell and giving her a look of annoyance. She frowned when she saw Odelia’s Babe Ruth imitation. “So this is what you get up to when I’m not looking. Having fun and playing games. And they wonder why this generation is so soft.” She shook her head and headed into the kitchen, opening the fridge. “And nothing to eat, of course. Sad. Very sad.”

“Gran,” Odelia cried, lowering her deadly weapon. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m moving in,” announced her grandmother, extracting a carton of eggs from the fridge and a tomato. “Don’t you have bacon? I need bacon if I’m gonna get through this. Bacon has always been my comfort food of choice.”

“But-but-but,” she sputtered.

Grandma plunked her bony frame down on a high kitchen stool and planted her elbows on the counter.“I got canned,” she said. “Got called out as a fraud and a cheat.”