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“News flash,” said Gran. “Dave James doesn’t know how to draw either. Look at this. He doesn’t even do cars or houses or whatever. Just a couple of talking turtles and one tree. Kids could do it. Heck, I could do it.”

“You think you can draw a cartoon, Gran?” asked Harriet.

“Sure! Me or Scarlett.”

“Scarlett!” said Brutus.

“Don’t look so surprised. Me and Scarlett took a drawing class back in the day. We’d heard they had men modeling in the nude so we wanted to get us some of that. They kicked me out, though, when I asked the guy to squat so I could check out his glutes.”

“Okay, so Scarlett can draw my cartoon,” said Harriet, “but who’s going to write it?”

“There’s no writing involved, honey,” said Gran. “Look, it’s only a couple of lines. Easy!”

I cocked a curious whisker at Gran.“You have to come up with the jokes, Gran.”

“What jokes? This stuff ain’t even funny. Two talking turtles. How hard can it be?”

Odelia had returned, and handed her husband a letter.“For you,” she said. She noticed her grandmother’s excitement and asked, “You’re looking awfully happy, Gran. Did you win the lottery?”

“I did a lot better! I’m gonna be a multimillionaire cartoonist! And you,” she added, pointing a bony finger in Chase’s direction, “are gonna build me an art studio!”

Chapter 2

It was Monday morning and we were peacefully taking up space in the corner of Odelia’s office as we usually do, with Harriet and Brutus taking up space in the opposite corner and Odelia working at her desk, when suddenly the outer door swung open and footsteps sounded in the corridor, halting outside Dan’s office. The aged editor directed the visitors to Odelia’s office, located further down the corridor, and so even before they arrived, Odelia was aware she had visitors. Her hands, which had been flying over the keyboard, working on an article for the Hampton Cove Gazette, now halted, and as she looked up, a young woman entered, along with an older woman. They both looked very anxious, and decidedly ill at ease.

“Mrs. Kingsley?” asked the older woman. “Odelia Kingsley? Mr. Goory said to walk right on through so we did. I hope we’re not disturbing you.”

“Oh, no—come in,” said Odelia magnanimously. “Take a seat. What can I do for you?”

Next to me, Dooley stirred.“Who are these people, Max?” he asked. “What do they want?”

“I have no idea, Dooley, but I have a feeling we’ll soon find out.”

With the youngest of the pair too intimidated to speak, the oldest one took the lead.

“I’m afraid we find ourselves in a great deal of trouble, Mrs. Kingsley,” said the woman as she leaned forward, placing her hands on the desk and wringing them freely.

Odelia smiled and said,“Maybe you can start by telling me who you are.”

“Oh, of course,” said the woman. “Well, I’m Hester Liffs, and this is my granddaughter Jayme Ziccardi.” She turned to her grandchild and gave her an encouraging nod. “Maybe it’s best if you tell the story, Jayme. Just tell Mrs. Kingsley what you told me.”

“Just call me Odelia, please,” said Odelia.

Jayme took a deep breath, and seemed to gather her thoughts.“I’m what you might call an aspiring artist, Mrs. Kin—Odelia. In the sense that I’ve been following art classes at the Gardner Institute of Art for a while now, and training under Mr. Fernleigh Cabanes.”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard of Fernleigh Cabanes?” Hester interrupted.

“I interviewed Mr. Cabanes for the paper last year,” said Odelia.

“He’s an amazing artist in his own right, of course, and so when he agreed to accept Jayme as a student, we were thrilled.”

“I got a scholarship from the Baxter Foundation,” Jayme explained.

“We were very lucky,” said Hester. “Tuition was out of our reach.”

“So last Saturday there was an incident,” Jayme said, then directed a glance at her grandma.

“Go on,” Mrs. Liffs encouraged her.

“A woman suddenly appeared in class. She said her name was Veronica James, and that she was Dave James’s wife. And then she accused me of having an affair with her husband, which of course is ridiculous, as I’ve never even met Dave James, and also, I’m way too young to have an affair with the guy. He’s probably eighty or ninety.”

“He’s seventy-two,” Hester said. “Same age as me. And far too old for Jayme, of course. But more important than these ridiculous accusations is what Fernleigh told Jayme next.”

“He said it’s actually Dave James who set up the Baxter Foundation, and who personally selected me for the scholarship. And also, he’s been following my work, and discussing it with Fernleigh.” A blush had settled on her cheeks. “I was pretty shocked, of course. Can you imagine? Dave James? Personally selecting me for a scholarship?”

“Which is why we’re afraid Veronica James will start to make trouble for Jayme. If she thinks her husband and Jayme are involved in some way, she might try to cancel the scholarship, and in doing so cause irreparable damage to my granddaughter’s future.”

“But why?” asked Odelia. “Why would she think there’s something inappropriate going on between her husband and Jayme?”