“At least Chase hasn’t been fired,” said Brutus. “Though what is he going to do now that he’s not a detective anymore?”

  “Beats me,” I said. “Maybe he can police traffic?”

  “He won’t like that,” said Brutus. “He won’t like that at all.”

  “So if what you’re telling me is true,” said Kingman, “that means that Mick Harper caught the killers?”

  “He did,” I said. “Or at least he thinks he did.”

  “So that whole hullabaloo across the street, that was Mick making the arrest?”

  “Absolutely,” I said. “Bramwell and Reyna Eiderduck’s housekeeper and their gardener were holed up in a room on the second floor and were having a great time on their employer’s dime when Mick stormed in and arrested them for murder.”

  “He really thinks that they murdered their employers?” asked Kingman.

  “That’s the theory he’s working from,” I agreed. “Why? Do you have information that proves they’re innocent? If you do, you have to tell us, Kingman. Even though we’re not involved with the investigation anymore, we might be able to get the message across to Uncle Alec—if he’ll listen.”

  “No, it’s just that they were in here,” said Kingman. “Not long before the arrest, I mean. Buying all kinds of stuff and being all flirty and handsy, if you know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I think it’s been established that they’re an item,” I said.

  “I think it’s so romantic, don’t you?” said Harriet. “For the housekeeper to fall in love with the gardener? It’s the stuff of movies.”

  I had been studying Kingman, and I had the feeling that he hadn’t finished his tale. “So what makes you think that they’re innocent?” I asked.

  Kingman made a face. “It’s not so much that I think they’re innocent. I mean, I’m not a detective, so what do I know? But I remember they were talking about what they had just seen. You know, finding the bodies of their employers covered in blood and all of that. They looked genuinely shocked. Not the kind of behavior you’d expect from a pair of cold-blooded killers, you know. Oh, and especially the woman seemed particularly shaken up. Said she’d never seen anything like it, and it just wasn’t the same as in the movies. ‘The blood, Brendon,’ she kept saying. ‘So much blood!’ He even had to tell her to keep her voice down, as she was attracting a lot of attention. Like I said, not the behavior of a killer.”

  “Unless they had decided to kill the couple but hadn’t expected there to be so much blood?” Brutus suggested. “If this was their first time, that might have surprised them.”

  “Or he could have killed them, and when she saw what he had done, she panicked?” Harriet said. “In both cases she would have been deeply impressed.”

  “Well, that’s all I know,” said Kingman. “I don’t think it matters a great deal anyway, now that Mick Harper is in charge. If he’s convinced he’s got the right people in custody, the testimony of a cat like me isn’t going to change his mind.”

  “Was there anything else that stood out?” I asked.

  “They did talk about a treasure,” said Kingman.

  “A treasure? What treasure?”

  “Beats me. They said the treasure map was gone. That the killer must have taken it.”

  “Now this is interesting,” said Brutus.

  “I love a treasure,” said Harriet. “What do you think it consists of? Gold, jewels, both?”

  “We have to tell Odelia,” I said. “If there was a treasure map, and the killers stole it, maybe that was their motive for the murder.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Max,” said Brutus. “Mick Harper is in charge now, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t care one hoot about any treasure map.”

  “Well, I care,” said Harriet. “If there is a treasure out there, I say we find it and give it to Bramwell and Reyna Eiderduck’s daughter. It’s the least we can do to ease her suffering. Especially now that she’s about to find out that her father was broke.”

  “Bramwell Eiderduck was broke?” asked Kingman. “But I thought he was some big Hollywood power producer? He made that famous eighties show, didn’t he? With the team and the hit song and all of that? Wilbur loves that show. He watches it every day.”

  “He spent all of his money on pugs,” I explained.

  Kingman stared at me. “Pugs?”

  “Pugs.”

  “Not drugs?”

  “Not drugs. Pugs.”

  “Huh. How about that?”

  Just at that moment, Gran entered the store, followed by her friend Scarlett Canyon. They were holding a stack of leaflets in their hands and walked up to the checkout counter.

  “Wilbur!” Gran cried in that carrying voice of hers. She placed her stack of leaflets on the counter. “Hand these out, will you?”

  Wilbur picked one up. “What’s this about?” He quickly scanned the leaflet, then his face cleared. “A raffle? I love a good raffle. What’s the big prize?”

  “Pugs,” said Gran. “Fifty of them.”

  Wilbur stared at her. Whatever he had been expecting, it clearly wasn’t this. “What am I supposed to do with fifty pugs?”

  “If you don’t want them, don’t buy a ticket,” said Gran. “Or better yet, do buy a ticket, but don’t claim your prize.”

  “It’s for a good cause,” Scarlett clarified.

  “What good cause?” asked Wilbur, whose excitement had waned considerably.

  “Why, rehoming fifty pugs, of course,” said Gran. “Their owners have been killed, and they need a new home. Oh, and their owners had been badly mistreating them, so if you could tell your customers? Nothing like a good sob story to sell raffle tickets.”

  “You should see them, Wilbur,” said Scarlett. “They’re so cute! If I had the space and the money, I’d adopt them myself.”

  “Takes a lot of money to feed fifty pugs,” Gran said with a nod. “So we’re looking at rich folks with a heart, Wilbur. Can you think of anyone like that amongst your customers?”

  “Sure,” he said. “Plenty of rich folks with hearts shop in my store. But I’m not sure they’d be interested in adopting fifty pugs. That’s quite the responsibility they’re taking on, Vesta.”

  “Oh, I know. But they’d also be doing good for the community. So there’s that.”

  “What are the second and third prizes?” asked Wilbur, whose interest in pugs was limited.

  “Second prize is a kiss from me,” said Scarlett. “And third prize is a kiss from Vesta.”

  Wilbur made a face. “Is that it? Fifty pugs and two kisses? You’re not going to sell a whole lot of tickets like that.”

  Gran bridled. “What, is a kiss from me and Scarlett not good enough for you?”

  “Of course not! Who cares about a kiss? People want something they can hold in their hands. Something tangible. Like a flatscreen TV, or a game console.” He picked up the stack of leaflets and handed them back to Gran. “Spice up your offer, Vesta, or this thing will be a bust. Trust me.”

  Gran gave the man a dirty look, but in the end accepted the stack. “I guess you’re right,” she said grudgingly. Then she sighed. “But where are we going to get a flatscreen TV?”

  “We should ask Ida,” said Scarlett. “After all, this was her idea.”

  “No, it’s my idea,” said Gran. “Only I hadn’t thought it through. But Wilbur is right. Two kisses won’t cut it, even if they’re from the two hottest babes in town.”

  “I can always throw in dinner,” Scarlett suggested.

  “Tangible, Scarlett!” said Wilbur. “You need something they can touch with their hands!” In response, Scarlett stuck out her impressive chest, practically poking the shopkeeper’s eyes out.

  Gran rolled her eyes. “We’re trying to keep this clean, honey. Raffles are a family affair, remember?”

  “Fine,” said Scarlett. “So where are we going to get some decent prizes?”

  Gran shrugged. “I’ll think of something.”

  And with these words, the two friends left again, to work some more on their plan of campaign to rehome fifty pugs.

  Before they could walk out, Dooley yelled, “Treasure!”

  Instantly, Gran turned. “What did you say?”

  “Treasure,” said Dooley. “Right, Kingman?”

  Kingman nodded seriously. “That’s right. There is treasure hidden somewhere on these shores, but unfortunately the map has been stolen. Find that map, and you’ll find the treasure. And then you can buy as many flatscreen TVs for your raffle as you need.”

  Gran’s eyes had started glowing with a holy fire, and I got that typical tingle racing up and down my spine. The tingle that spelled trouble with a capital T.

  Dooley’s human pulled up a chair, took a seat next to Kingman, and said, “You interest me strangely, Kingman. Tell me all about this treasure of yours, and leave out no detail, however slight.”

  CHAPTER 20

  The next couple of days were tough on Odelia and Chase, and also on the cats. Not only did Mick manage to wrangle some sort of confession out of Brendon Hetman, but as a consequence, he was feted at every turn. He received a medal from the hands of Charlene Butterwick, got his name on the honors board at the precinct as Detective of the Month, and even landed a column in the Hampton Cove Gazette, which annoyed Odelia to no end.

  “I don’t understand!” she cried when Dan informed her of the news. “He’s not even a reporter!”

  “I know,” said Dan, “he’s so much more than that. The man is a bona fide hero, Odelia. And he’s a former sports star. In other words, he’s everything the people in this town need. He singlehandedly caught the perpetrators of one of the most heinous crimes this town has ever seen, and he did it without backup, all by himself. I mean…” He spread his arms and leaned back in his chair. “This is the stuff of legend. They’ll be writing about what he did for years to come. Plus, he was already famous before he got here, so it’s a double whammy.”

  “He’s a failed hockey player,” she argued.

  “Come on, that’s not fair,” said her boss. “You yourself were one of his main supporters after he got ditched by his wife and she started that smear campaign against him. And now you’re telling me he’s a failed hockey player? The guy is a star, Odelia, and that’s more than can be said about either of us.”

  “I guess,” she said morosely. She turned in the swivel chair positioned in front of the aged editor’s desk. “Did you know that Chase still doesn’t believe Mick caught the right guy?”

  “Nobody likes a sore loser, honey. Chase better get his act together, or he’ll find himself on the wrong side of history. People love Mick. He’s the man of the hour. So why not capitalize on that for the paper? Hampton Covians want to see more of the guy. They want to know all about him. They want to read his column. So sue me for being a savvy businessman and a good editor.”

  She had to admit that her boss probably had a point. But it still stung that a man who had never written an article in his life was suddenly getting a byline on the cover of the Gazette, while her column was being relegated to one of the inside pages. It hardly seemed fair. But since she didn’t want to lose her job, she figured she’d better not rock the boat too much.

  “Okay, so what’s all this stuff about a treasure map? Have you managed to find out more about that? The town is buzzing, Odelia, so we need to get on top of this thing now.”

  She cheered up a little. Mick Harper may have taken down a pair of killers—maybe—but she was still the Gazette’s number-one reporter, and she was going to prove it by delivering scoop after scoop. “Okay, so looks like Brendon Hetman was overheard discussing a treasure map with his girlfriend, Christi Windley. The treasure map in question belonged to their employer Bramwell Eiderduck, and was kept in the man’s safe. Only whoever killed him⁠—”

  “We all know that Brendon Hetman is the killer,” said Dan dryly.

  “—took the map. And since Brendon Hetman didn’t have it in his possession when he was arrested, and nor did Christi Windley, we don’t know where it is.”

  “Hmm,” said Dan, stroking his waggling white beard. “Any idea where they could have hidden it?”

  Odelia shook her head. “Mick has searched that hotel room, and also the Eiderducks’ mansion, but so far he hasn’t found it.”

  “Are we sure that it ever existed?”

  “Oh, absolutely. I asked Anthemia, and she confirmed that her dad did indeed own a treasure map. He didn’t think too much of it, though. Considered it a fun curio that he once picked up at an antique store.”

  “So it’s a fake?”

  “According to Anthemia, it’s probably something that was created by an artist, and so it doesn’t actually point to any real treasure.”

  “Rumor has it that it points to the location of Captain Quidd’s treasure? The one that’s supposed to be worth millions, possibly even billions?”

  “There’s nothing to substantiate that,” said Odelia.

  “Pity,” said Dan, deflating somewhat. “Well, see what else you can find. Talk to anyone involved. Maybe someone took a picture of that map, or made a copy. And if they did, I want it printed in my paper. Or better yet…” A grin spread across his bearded face. “I want you to find that treasure for me, and then I want you to take a picture of it and put it on the front page.” He sighed wistfully. “That’s the stuff that sells papers. Lots and lots of them!”

  As she returned to her own office, she thought about this new assignment Dan had given her. How was she supposed to find a copy of that treasure map, if the killer had taken it from the safe? She’d have to talk to Anthemia again. Like Dan said, their best chance was if someone had taken a picture of that map. Maybe her dad, or maybe Anthemia herself.

  Entering her office, she was surprised to find that Mick Harper was seated behind her desk, checking her computer!

  “Hey!” she said. “That’s my desk.”

  He didn’t even have the decency to look caught. Instead, he flashed his notoriously attractive grin. “I just figured that since we’re colleagues now, your desk is my desk.”

  “We’re not colleagues,” she said. “You write a guest column, but I’m still the Gazette’s only reporter, apart from Dan. And why were you checking my laptop?”

  He shrugged. “Getting inspired.” He leaned back, his hands behind his head. “I’ve been working on my column, but that stuff is a lot harder than I thought. I don’t even know where to start, so I figured you might be able to give me some pointers.”

  “I’m sure there’s plenty of online courses you could take that will teach you the basics of writing a column,” she said curtly. “And now if you could get out of my office please?”

  He sighed deeply and gave her a coy look. “I can tell you’re still mad at me for taking over that case. But what was I supposed to do? Let a killer walk? My instinct told me that Hetman was the guy, even though you and Chase said it wasn’t.”

  “Let’s not discuss this any further,” she suggested. “What is done is done. Now if you could please give me back my desk.”

  He cut a quick glance at the corner of her office, where four cats were following the altercation with rapt attention. “Dan has offered me the use of the office next to yours,” he said. “I think I’ll take him up on it. And then I can bring my dogs in to work with me—just like you and your cats.”

  A sense of alarm shot through her. Her cats and Mick’s dogs hadn’t exactly bonded, and if he brought them to the Gazette with him, that meant her cats wouldn’t be able to stay with her.

  “It’s just a column, Mick,” she said. “You don’t need an office.”

  “That’s not what Dan said. He said that apart from my column, I can write any article I want, and if he likes it, he’ll print it.” He smiled broadly. “So looks like we’re colleagues, after all.”

  CHAPTER 21

  “Max! Is Mick going to steal Odelia’s job now, too?” asked Dooley urgently. “He can’t do that!”

  “And the huskies,” said Brutus. “He’s bringing in the huskies. He’s bringing them into this office!”

  “This isn’t good, you guys,” said Harriet. “This isn’t good at all. If he brings those huskies of his into the office, that means we’re out of here. And that means we can’t come to the Gazette, we can’t go to the police station—we’re not welcome anywhere!”

  “We can still go to the park,” I said. “We still have cat choir.”

  Though in all honesty, Blizzard and Storm had been making inroads there as well. They had taken over dog choir and had been signing up more and more dogs. If they kept this up, soon dog choir would be bigger than cat choir!

  They even sang better than us, though so far they didn’t have a soprano like Harriet. I was convinced that before long they’d find their own diva too, and then Harriet would face some stiff competition on that end as well.

  “I’m sure it won’t come to that,” I said. “Odelia is still Dan’s star reporter. I mean, Mick doesn’t even know how to write an article. He doesn’t have the skills.”

  “He didn’t have the skills to be a detective either,” said Brutus somberly. “And look at him now. Medal from the mayor, his own column in the paper, detective of the month and he’s the rising star at the precinct. Uncle Alec is giving him all the cases.”

  He was right. Looked like Chase had been sidelined, and Mick was the big man on campus now. He had even been given a partner, and together they patrolled the streets, looking for criminals to catch and crimes to solve. So far, they were doing a pretty good job.

  “Mick Harper is taking over this town,” said Harriet. “And I don’t like it one bit. If this keeps up, we’ll end up having to move to a different town and start over from scratch. And I don’t want that. I like it here. This is our town and I want to stay.”