d5e426eccb138e04dab909926b2752c6

“Not yet,” Max said. “Kingman was too busy, and Buster was, um, preoccupied.”

“He showed us his new fan,” said Dooley. “We were blown away.”

“Literally,” Max muttered with an eyeroll.

They’d arrived at the outskirts of town, and Odelia’s foot stepped on the accelerator until they were traveling at a respectable speed. There was almost no traffic as they left the town proper and soon were cruising along country lanes, surrounded by miles and miles of fields. Sprinklers were providing the crops with the necessary hydration, and before long they were at their destination, indicated by three police cars parked along the shoulder. She parked right behind her uncle’s squad car and got out, but not before unbuckling her feline passengers and watching them quickly hop onto the grassy side of the road. The asphalt was too hot for their tender paws, and she wondered when this heatwave was going to subside and more regular climes would return.

The field where Ted Trapper had discovered the body belonged to Farmer Giles, as did most of the surrounding ones. The farmer himself, a stocky figure with a raggedy cap, raggedy shirt and raggedy pair of dungarees, stood scratching his ear and staring down at something Odelia couldn’t see from this distance. As she got closer, though, she saw that it was the body of a young woman, and at the sight of her, she took in a quick breath.

“What is it, Odelia?” asked Max, who was trotting along in her wake.

“But that’s…” she murmured, then got out her phone to be sure. She’d been googling Vicky Gardner just that morning, which was why the missing woman’s features were still so clear in her mind. And this woman—the dead woman—was Vicky’s spitting image.

“Impossible,” she said as she compared the dead woman to the smiling one in the picture she had on her phone.

“Incredible, isn’t it?” asked her uncle, who stood gazing down at the victim. “I knew Vicky, you know, and this woman right here looks just like her.”

“Maybe she was abducted by them aliens,” Farmer Giles suggested, “and they put her in one of them cryogenic machines they got and now they dumped her back on earth.”

“I very much doubt if that’s even possible,” said Chase, who was standing next to his commanding officer, hands on his hips and looking grim-faced, as he usually did when faced with murder and mayhem like this.

The county coroner, Abe Cornwall, who’d been bent down over the body, now got up with a groan. He was a rotund man in his late fifties with grizzled features and a breezy attitude towards death.

“I’d say she’s been here at least two or three days. Broke her neck, as far as I can tell.”

“Vicky Gardner as I live and breathe,” said Farmer Giles, who’d taken off his peaked cap in deference to the dead woman and rocked back on his heels. “I had a thing for her back in the day. We went out once but she said I was a lousy kisser and so I never asked her out again.” He shook his head. “Damn aliens. There should be a law against that kind of thing.”

“I don’t think this is Vicky Gardner,” said Abe. “Though I have to admit she’s Vicky’s spitting image.”

“You knew Vicky, Abe?” asked Chase.

“Oh, sure. I used to do some teaching back in the day, and Vicky was always quick on the uptake—as was your mother, Odelia. They were in the same class, if I remember correctly.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my kissing technique per se,” said Farmer Giles, pursing his lips. “I mean, I’ve never had any complaints since. She said I used too much tongue.” He shrugged. “All the men in my family got a thick tongue, so maybe that was the problem.”

“So how old is she, you reckon, Dan?” asked Uncle Alec.

They all looked down at the woman.“Definitely not in her forties, which is how old Vicky would be now,” said Abe.

“Forty-eight,” Uncle Alec grunted. “Marge’s age.”

“She looks early twenties to me,” said Chase.

“Which is exactly how old Vicky was when she disappeared,” said Odelia.

“See?” said Farmer Giles. “Aliens. They abducted her twenty years ago and dumped her when they no longer needed her for their experiments.” He stuck out his tongue. “Look, Chief. Do you think my tongue is too thick?”

“Oh, for God’s sakes put that thing away, Giles,” Uncle Alec growled, then took out a big white handkerchief and mopped his brow. “Murdered,” he muttered. “And of course it had to happen on the hottest day of the year.”

Odelia glanced around, concerned about her cats, who could stand the heat even less than she could. To her surprise, they were nowhere to be found.

Chapter 12

When we go sleuthing with our human, the setup usually goes something like this: while she interviews the humans, we track down any pets who might be found in the vicinity and talk to them, eliciting what we professional sleuths like to call‘witness statements’ to use the official jargon for once. A witness is a person who witnessed something, and their statement can often provide that ‘telling clue’ to use another term your layman is often not familiar with.