“We saved you a million dollars, Fred!” Vesta exclaimed, patting the man on the broad back again. He didn’t seem to enjoy the process, though when she mentioned the million dollars she’d saved him, his initial frostiness seemed to melt away to some extent.
“Myes,” he finally conceded. “It certainly looks that way.” He frowned before him for a moment, then finally said, “I’m afraid I’ll have to get back to you about that dinner, Mrs…”
“Muffin. Vesta Muffin. And this is Scarlett Canyon. You can write our names large in the annals of Kramer Kitchen Kreation. If it hadn’t been for us, you might have gone belly-up today, Fred—remember that,” she added with an admonishing wag of the finger.
Still unconvinced, Fred got into his car, then took off. And as they stood staring after the Kitchen King’s departure, Alec said with an exaggerated sigh, “Ma, what am I going to do with you, huh?”
“Thank me, for one thing. I just got us all free kitchen remodels, sonny boy.” She pointed from Chase to Alec to Scarlett. “You get a new kitchen, and you get a new kitchen, and you get a new kitchen.” She smiled. “Not bad for one night’s hacking, huh?”
“Oh, God, help me,” Alec muttered, the ungrateful cad.
Chapter 17
Odelia had missed all the fun: by the time she arrived at the precinct, her grandmother and Scarlett had left, and so had the Kitchen King. But as she sat in her husband’s office, and he related the incident, she couldn’t help but smile at her grandmother’s shenanigans.
“I think she just wanted to find a way to bring the price down on that kitchen remodel,” said Chase, “and so she tried to break into the company computer to change the quote and discovered someone else was also trying to hack into Kramer’s outfit. So she saw an opportunity and took it.”
“It all sounds typical Gran,” Odelia had to admit. “But also very illegal, right?”
“Not unless you get caught,” said Chase, “and clearly she managed to talk her way out of it. Though judging from Fred Kramer’s response, I very much doubt whether a free kitchen will be in the cards.”
“Gran did save the man a million dollars in bitcoin.”
“Yeah, she did. Talk about a lucky coincidence. Now what did you want to ask?”
“If you’ve got any news on that bum in the woods case?”
“The bum in the woods case. Is that what we’re calling it now?”
“I guess so,” she said with a smile.
“Well, I just had a meeting with your uncle, which I’m sure your cats will be able to tell you all about, as they were up to their usual spying tricks, and the conclusion is that we know exactly nothing. The guy is a complete John Doe.”
“But who killed him? And who buried him out there?”
“As far as I can tell, the only viable suspect we have so far is your Karl Bunyon.”
“He’s not my Karl Bunyon, Chase.”
The burly cop shrugged and dragged his hands through his shaggy mane.“He was right there when it happened, babe. Maybe John Doe saw him release those cats and Karl got scared and decided to get rid of the guy—with this custody battle hanging over him, and the prospect of losing his kids, maybe he simply panicked and shot the man.”
“It’s a possibility,” she had to admit.
“He doesn’t strike me as a killer, though, so for now we’re pursuing other avenues.” He picked up an Unidentified Person poster of which he had a whole stack on his desk, and said, “We’re distributing these now, and launching an appeal through local TV stations, hoping someone recognizes our Mr. Doe and gives us an ID. Because it’s hard to catch a killer if you don’t even know the name of the victim.”
Suddenly Odelia’s phone dinged and she looked down. “Well, what do you know?” she said. “Looks like we’re invited for dinner at my parents’ place tonight. And they’re proud to announce they’ve got a very special guest of honor.”
Chase laughed.“Let me guess: Fred Kramer?”
“How did you know?”
“Looks like Vesta will get her free kitchen remodel after all.”
[Êàðòèíêà: img_3]
“Collars! Get your collars!” Vesta was yelling.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” asked Scarlett.
“Of course it’s a good idea! With all these catnappings, everybody wants a collar with inbuilt tracker. Collars! Get your collars! Never lose track of your precious pet again!”
They were in Town Square, where Vesta had dragged an entire box full of tracking collars. She’d found them in some dime store over in Happy Bays. And Scarlett had to admit they were selling like hotcakes. Already they’d sold a dozen, and word was clearly spreading for more and more pet owners were showing up to buy the gadgets.
“Vesta!” Father Reilly cried as he came hurrying up on his bike. The parish priest looked excited at the prospect of buying a collar for his cat. “Are you sure these work?” He was fingering a collar that looked as if it had gold thread woven through the material.
“Absolutely,” said Vesta. “These are top-of-the-line quality, Francis. All you need to do is slap one of these babies on Shanille, activate the device, and you’ll be able to track that sweet puss wherever she goes.”
The priest nodded.“How much?”