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“Oh, yes,” said Max, grim-faced. “We’re all perfectly fine. Fine, fine, fine.”

“As fine as can be expected,” said Harriet. “Under the circumstances.”

“Yes, the circumstances are terrible,” Odelia agreed. “What with Opal being attacked today. I just hope we’ll be able to catch whoever is behind this before it’s too late.”

“Well, if anything happens to her, they can always have her cloned,” said Harriet. “That way she can go on with her show indefinitely and no one will be any the wiser.”

Strange. They were acting so strange. But then Gran came rushing in, panting slightly, and asked,“Have you seen Hank? I seem to have misplaced the boy.”

“Have you looked in the main house? Maybe he arrived late and decided to have a bite to eat in the kitchen.”

Gran tapped the doorframe and gave her a beaming smile.“Thanks, hon.”

And she was off again.

“Don’t go to bed too late, Gran!” she hollered after her. “We’re leaving early tomorrow morning, remember!”

But Gran was already slamming the door.

“Well, sleep tight, you guys,” she said as she placed her notebook on the nightstand and switched off the bedside lamp.

“Sleep well, Odelia,” her four cats said in chorus.

Then she remembered something.“Oh, tomorrow morning we’re all going into town. Opal has invited us to join her at her beauty salon and spa.”

“Doesn’t she have a show to tape?” asked Max.

“No, it’s Saturday. No show on Saturday.”

“Where is this salon and spa?” asked Harriet.

“Um… Hollywood Boulevard,” said Odelia.

There was a momentary silence, then Max said,“We’d love to come.”

“Great. I thought you’d like it. They have a pet salon, too, so we’ll treat you to a nice massage and a pampering session.”

“Whoopee,” said Harriet without much enthusiasm.

Yep, they clearly weren’t themselves. Then again, cats being cats, that’s just the way they were sometimes. They’d be right as rain tomorrow, she was sure. And then she dozed off. Outside, Gran had resumed her cries of ‘Hank!’ but by then she was fast asleep.

Chapter 22

The next morning Odelia was the first one up. She decided to go for a walk in the grounds, and get some of that fresh air these Hollywood Hills were so famous for.

She ventured out into the cool and crisp morning air and took in a lungful of the stuff, which made her feel so giddy she broke into a spontaneous run and didn’t stop until she’d reached a little brook and crossed it, finally to reach destination’s end: the small waterfall she’d seen the first night.

It was a beautiful spot, with a gorgeous view, the sun rising over the hills, and spreading its gorgeous rays across a sleeping world. She took a seat on a small wooden bench and took in the breathtaking scene. Behind her, the brook gurgled, next to her the waterfall burbled, and inside, her stomach grumbled.

All this running had given her an appetite, and she couldn’t wait to sit down for breakfast.

One thing was for sure: Opal was the perfect hostess, and not just on her famous show, but in her own home as well. The first-class meals they’d been served were so delicious Odelia was already dreading the moment they’d return home and she’d have to cook again. She’d never be able to compete with Helga, who clearly was a master chef when it came to the work she did in the kitchen, aided by Harlan’s liquor stash or not.

She stretched and yawned, and a voice behind her startled her out of her reverie.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? This is certainly my favorite spot.”

She looked up to find she’d been joined by a woman who looked vaguely familiar. And then she recognized her. “You’re Marilyn Coyn,” she said. “Opal’s best friend.”

“That’s me,” said Marilyn. “And you must be Odelia Poole. The detective.”

“Reporter, actually,” said Odelia. “I’m just an amateur when it comes to detecting.”

Marilyn, who was a statuesque woman with refined features, took a seat next to her on the bench.“That’s not what I heard. I heard you’re a damn fine detective.”

“I do my best,” said Odelia modestly.

“Opal told me what happened yesterday. That must have been a horrible scene.”

“It was. And a miracle she survived.”

“Opal seems to be on the receiving end of a lot of miracles these days,” said Marilyn. “First those faulty brakes, then the poisoned coffee, and now this.”

“She told you about all of those incidents?”

“Oh, yes, she did. In fact it was me who told her to hire you.”

“But… we’ve never met, have we?”

“No, we haven’t.”

“So how do you know so much about me?”

“I read a story about how you caught Chickie Hay’s killer, and that impressed me a great deal.”

Of course. The Chickie Hay case had garnered a lot of publicity.

“I loved Chickie,” said Marilyn. “She was one of my favorite singers and a dear friend.”

“You knew her?”

“Sure. She was a guest on my show a couple of times, and we became fast friends. She was a bright young woman, and didn’t deserve to die.”

She remembered now. Marilyn had her own show, and even though it wasn’t as popular or famous as Opal’s, it still attracted a fairly large viewership.