And he charged ahead, leaving Dooley and me to stare after him in bewilderment.

  “Um. What did he just say, Max?” asked Dooley.

  “No idea, Dooley. Let’s just go and find Harriet. That’s what we’re here for.”

  “I like that,” he said gratefully.

  At a slight distance we followed Brutus and soon found ourselves in the pool area again, which was where Dieber Babes liked to hang out—both the human variety and the feline. Today wasn’t any different. Dozens of young women were frolicking around in the pool, the Dieber himself the center of attention as he plunged around on an inflatable turtle, and wherever I looked I saw cats taking it all in their stride. Guarding this scene of peculiar bliss were powerfully built men and women, their heads swiveling continuously, their eyes roving, and little plastic thingies plucked into their ears which from time to time they touched with their fingers, at which point they spoke a few words to themselves.

  Like I said, humans never think other humans can see them talking to themselves, which is kinda cute, actually.

  “I don’t see her, Max,” Dooley informed me. “I don’t see Harriet.”

  “Neither do I, Dooley. She must be inside.”

  And we were stealthily moving towards the house when suddenly a familiar cat blocked our access. It was Diego, and if possible he looked even more obnoxious than usual.

  “No pasarán, dudes,” he was saying.

  “We’re not here for the pasaran,” Dooley said. “We’re here to find Harriet.”

  “Though while we’re here we might sample some of your pasaran,” I said. I rubbed my tummy. “I’m feeling a little peckish.”

  Diego grinned. “I should have remembered you two have the mental capacity of a common housefly. What I meant to say was: you shall not pass!”

  “Ooh! I’ve seen that movie!” Dooley said excitedly. “Um… It’s on the tip of my tongue. I want to say… The Goonies? No! Gremlins! It’s Gremlins, right?! I like Gremlins.”

  A scowl marred Diego’s features at this demonstration of Game of Fortune. “Idiots! What I’m trying to get through your thick skulls is that you can’t go in!”

  “Why? Is something burning?” I asked, genuinely surprised by this cat’s insistence.

  “I’m in charge here now!” he cried. “And I don’t want you here! Capeesh?”

  “Oh.” I finally saw what he meant now.

  “You’re in charge now?” asked Dooley. “Charlie must like you a lot, Diego, to put you in charge of his house.”

  “Not in charge of the house, you dimwit,” he snarled. “In charge of the Dieber Babes. And I’m forbidding you access to the house. So you better get lost or else.”

  “Or else what?” asked Dooley, genuinely interested.

  Diego held up a menacing paw, extending his nails. The scene reminded me of Nightmare on Elm Street, a movie I’d wanted to unsee ever since I watched it with Odelia. For some strange reason she loves horror movies. I most emphatically do not.

  I gulped, and so did Dooley. Not only was there no pasaran in this house, there was no neighborliness either.

  But just then, a second cat materialized from the relative obscurity inside and drew up next to Diego. It was Clarice. “Oh, why don’t you get lost, Diego?” she asked irritably.

  “You get lost,” Diego growled, harping on his favorite theme. “Or I’ll cut you.”

  It was not something anyone had ever said to Clarice, I imagined, and I could see her expression darken into a vicious scowl. The next moment, a regular catfight ensued, and soon fur was flying and shrieks of pain were sounding. Within seconds, Diego bolted off in the direction of the garden, leaving a few drops of blood and a nice pile of orange fur on the floor. Clarice, who sat casually licking her paws, said, “There’s something you need to see.”

  “Oh, we saw it,” I said, suddenly overwhelmed by an irrepressible sensation of unbridled joy and affection for this inimitable cat. “And we liked it. Didn’t we, Dooley?”

  “I saw—I liked,” Dooley confirmed, a look of admiration on his furry face.

  “Not that. Something else,” Clarice said with a frown. “Come.”

  And come we did—into the house that was hitherto forbidden territory, and then up the stairs and down a long corridor.

  “I thought you said you were through dealing with Diego?” I said.

  “That was before he started throwing his weight around,” Clarice said as she sashayed across a nice white high-pile carpet. I had to resist the powerful urge to dig my claws in and start kneading. We were on a mission to save Harriet. Base urges had to wait.

  “Is he really in charge of the Dieber Babes now?” asked Dooley.

  “Of course he isn’t. He just wishes he was. That cat has the biggest Napoleon complex I’ve ever seen in any living being. It’s pathetic, actually, and a little sad.”

  “Um, what’s a Napoleon complex?” asked Dooley.

  “You may have noticed that Diego is a pretty short cat. To compensate he likes to act tough and whip other cats into submission. But not me. Uh-uh. If he tries that crap again, I swear I’ll slice him up so bad his own mother won’t recognize him. Oh, here we are.”

  I gulped, and so did Dooley. I’d seen Clarice gobble up vicious rats whole without batting an eye. I did not want to be on her bad side. If Diego kept this up, he was a dead cat.

  We’d arrived at one of the guest rooms, and Clarice jumped and grabbed the door handle with both paws. The handle twisted down under her weight and the door opened.

  “Hey, that’s a neat trick,” said Dooley.

  “Stick with me. I can teach you stuff,” said Clarice, pushing the door open further.

  The room was smaller than I would have imagined in a house this size, and pretty messy. Magazines were strewn around, and when I checked the titles I saw they were all either gun-or baseball-related. A large poster of Alex Rodriguez adorned the wall over the bed, and a sizable banner of the New York Yankees covered the opposite wall.

  “Looks like whoever lives here likes baseball,” I said. “And guns.”

  “Over here,” said Clarice, and moved into a bathroom the size of a cubicle. Over the sink, the mirror was bedecked with pictures, and when I looked closer, I saw they all featured the same woman.

  “She’s one of Dieber’s bodyguards,” Clarice said. “Her name is Regan Lightbody.”

  “Looks like this guy is pretty obsessed with her,” I said. And then my eye fell on a few more disturbing details. The pictures of two guys had been marked with big red Xs over their faces.

  Clarice had followed my gaze, and said, “Ray Cooper and Toby Mulvaney. The two bodyguards that were shot.” She raised a whisker when I stared at a message taped beneath the men’s pictures. It read, ‘If I can’t have you—no one can!’

  “What does it mean, Max?” asked Dooley, who’d just spotted the same message.

  “It means that whoever lives in this room is a double murderer,” I said.

  Chapter 26

  It is always a tough proposition to be faced with two incompatible tasks. On the one hand I wanted to run and tell Odelia what we’d just discovered, so she could induce Chase to apprehend the killer. On the other hand, we’d arrived at the Dieber house with a job to do, namely to save Harriet from the cat-collecting and cat-distributing singer. And since I couldn’t be in two places at the same time, I had a decision to make, and a tough one to boot.

  Luckily I was helped in my decision-making process by the arrival on the scene of the very cat we’d come here to save: Harriet walked into the room and gave the three of us a vicious glare.

  “Did you or did you not just attack my boyfriend?” she demanded.

  I had the impression she was talking to Clarice, and that impression was confirmed when Clarice replied, “If you’re talking about that obnoxious fleabag that calls himself Diego then yes, I did give him a piece of my mind. And if he wants more, he knows where to get it.”

  A challenging statement, but then Clarice had the chops to back it up.

  “I’ll have you know I lodged a formal complaint with the other Dieber Babes. They’ll want to have a word with you. You can’t go around cutting up cats, Clarice. You simply can’t!”

  “I can and I will if a cat gives me as much grief as your Diego does,” said Clarice.

  “Diego is the sweetest, most charming cat for miles around,” she challenged.

  “You’re deluded if you think that cat’s charming, honey,” said Clarice.

  But Harriet raised her chin. “Diego is a sweetheart, and I’ll bet that the only reason you attacked him is because he rejected you. Diego is mine, Clarice, and you have no business trying to seduce him.”

  For a moment I thought Clarice was about to attack Harriet, for these were fighting words. Instead, she laughed—perhaps the first time I’d heard her utter such a musical laugh of genuine merriment. She laughed and laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. Harriet’s eyes, meanwhile, were shooting sheets of flame. Not that it affected Clarice in the least.

  “Oh, you’re funny, girl,” said Clarice finally. “Me and that scuzzball. You wish.”

  “What’s so funny about that? I know you tried to seduce him. He told me so himself. And when he said no, you attacked him. Poor cat said he never saw it coming. Lost a great deal of fur and I’m not sure those scratches on his nose won’t leave a few very nasty scars.”

  “I hope they do,” Clarice said. “The cat is a liar, Harriet. A big, fat liar.”

  “She’s right,” I said. “Diego threatened to cut Clarice, so she cut him. That’s what happened. Isn’t that right, Dooley?”

  “That’s exactly what happened,” Dooley was happy to confirm. “Diego said, ‘Get lost, Clarice, or I’ll cut you.’ Those were his exact words. He’s not a very nice cat. Not nice at all.”

  “You’re the liars!” Harriet cried, stomping her paw for good measure. “You’re the big, fat liars! All of you. You, Max, are jealous of Diego because he’s a much better singer than you and because Odelia likes him best. And you, Dooley, are jealous because I’m with Diego now and that drives you crazy, just like it drives Brutus crazy. And you, Clarice, can’t stand it when a cat as attractive and charming as Diego prefers to be with me and not you. You’re all jealous and you’re all horrible, horrible cats and I never want to see you again for as long as I live!” And with these words, she took her leave, sweeping from the room like a diva.

  “But Harriet!” Dooley cried.

  She turned at the door, held up her paw and snapped, “Talk to the paw, Dooley!”

  And then she was gone.

  “Talk to the paw?” Dooley asked. “Why do I have to talk to her paw?”

  “It’s an expression,” I said. “It means she doesn’t want to listen to you.”

  “Oh, I’m used to that,” said Dooley. “I just didn’t see what her paw had to do with anything.”

  “Oh, Dooley, Dooley,” said Clarice. “You are a sweetheart, aren’t you? Let me just say it’s her loss if she chooses Diego over you. The cat is a moron, and I don’t say that lightly.”

  “Harriet is not a moron,” said Dooley, coming to Harriet’s defense even under these circumstances. “She just has a strange taste in cats, I guess.”

  “That’s an understatement,” I said.

  And just as we were about to walk out and return home, Brutus sailed into the room, moving at sixty miles an hour. “Where is she? I heard her voice! Where is Harriet?!”

  “Tough luck, macho,” said Clarice. “Harriet and Diego are back together and she’ll scratch out the eyes of anyone who dares to come between them.” She shook her head. “That’s it,” she announced. “This is the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’m out.”

  “But you’re not a camel, Clarice,” said Dooley. “Are you?”

  She smiled and gave his cheek a tender stroke—no claws involved. “See you around, Dooley. And you, Max and Brutus. And if you see Diego, kick him in the rear from me, will you? Don’t hold back.” She held up her paw and dropped something. “Clarice out.”

  After she’d stalked from the room, tail held high and head up, we stared at the item she’d dropped. It was a piece of Diego’s fur that must have gotten stuck in her claws.

  “What a cat,” said Dooley admiringly. “What. A. Cat.”

  “Is it true what she said about Harriet?” asked Brutus, a pained expression on his face. “Is she back together with Diego?”

  “Yes, it’s true,” I said. “She was in here ready to pick a fight with Clarice over Diego, accusing her of trying to steal him from her. Nonsense, of course, but Harriet bought it.”

  Brutus plunked down on his haunches, a haunted look in his eyes. “That’s it. I’m out, too. This is the end, you guys. I’m done fighting.”

  “Good,” I said.

  “Why is that good?”

  “Because we’ve got something to show you,” I said, and led him into the bathroom.

  Chapter 27

  It was late in the afternoon when Odelia pulled up to the arts center in downtown Hampton Cove. The Seabreeze Music Center was usually reserved for local artists showcasing their talents, the occasional concert, ballet or musical performance, but today hosted perhaps the biggest star of the moment. Charlie Dieber was preparing to go on tour again, to promote his upcoming album, and had picked the Seabreeze for a tryout slash surprise gig. The venue chosen, he’d dropped clues on his social media accounts, and W-AWOL5 had also been spreading the word in the days since his appearance on their show.

  When Odelia learned about the show from her uncle Alec, a tightness had spread across her chest, and she knew she had to be there to ward off whatever that little voice inside her head kept telling her. Not that the little voice was particularly intelligible, or even made any sense to her, but she knew something was wrong, and she had to try and stop it.

  So she’d called Chase, who agreed to meet her at the Seabreeze, and now she stood scuffing her toe on the pavement and biting her lip as she waited for the cop to show up.

  Dozens of highly excitable girls stood giggling and gibbering animatedly, all wearing Charlie Dieber T-shirts, Charlie Dieber caps and some of them even sporting Charlie Dieber temp tattoos on their cheeks. One girl, who couldn’t have been older than twelve, started singing ‘Will You Love Me Forever?’ and the rest quickly chimed in. It was one of Charlie’s biggest hits, but for some reason it annoyed the heck out of Odelia now. She’d been such a big fan, but since she’d taken a peek behind the curtain and gotten a good look at the kid hiding there, she’d lost all respect. She felt like Dorothy, only Charlie was even worse than the Wizard.

  Chase arrived and darted a curious glance at the dozens of kids now singing another Dieber hit. ‘I want to be your boyfriend, will you be my girlfriend, baby?’ they were yelling.

  “I knew you were a fan, babe. I just didn’t know you were such a big fan,” Chase said with a grin. “Are you sure this is your crowd? You seem kinda old to be a Bedieber.”

  “Ha ha. Very funny. We’re here on official police business, Chase. Not as fans.”

  “Official police business, huh? And you’re not even a cop.”

  “You’re the cop. I’m just here to make sure you arrest the right people.”

  Uncle Alec also joined them, looking slightly out of breath. “Damn. I had to park a mile away. This Dieber kid is popular.”

  “You figured that out now?” asked Chase, clapping his superior officer on the back.

  “Yeah, I had no idea,” Alec said, extracting a big white handkerchief from his pants pocket and wiping his brow. “Now what’s all this about a security threat?” he asked.

  “I don’t think Toby committed suicide,” Odelia said.

  “You told me already. And I’m telling you he did. Gunpowder residue on his hand, position of the body, fingerprints on the gun. He did it, Odelia. He killed Ray Cooper and then he killed himself when he realized you were onto him and he wasn’t getting away with it.”

  She was shaking her head. “I don’t buy it. I just…”

  Chase and her uncle exchanged a glance. “Those hunches again, huh?” asked Alec.

  “I thought you told Chase I was always right?”

  “Yeah, but that was before you decided to ignore solid evidence. Did, um…”

  “Did what?”

  He darted a quick look at Chase. “Did one of your informants tell you something?”

  “No. Not this time. This time I’m trusting my own gut.”

  This didn’t seem to inspire her uncle with a great deal of confidence. If her cats gave her inside information from the feline world, he was fully on board. Now? Not so much.

  But finally he shrugged. “You know? I’ve never been to a Dieber concert before.” He frowned at the braying crowd of teenagers. “I’ll bet it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

  “Look at it this way, Chief,” said Chase. “It’ll help you stay young.”

  “Or deaf,” he grumbled as he covered his ears.

  The doors to the center opened, and the braying intensified, turning into a roar. As one girl, the troupe stormed the door, and practically flattened the man who’d opened it.

  Once inside, Odelia was surprised to find the theater as big as it was. It had been ages since she’d been in here, last time for a Christmas show, and she hardly remembered.

  They walked on through to the front, and proceeded to climb up to the stage, which was loaded with equipment ranging from guitars, synths, drum set, amplifiers, and even a baby grand piano, where, presumably, Dieber would play ‘Girlfriend,’ his breakthrough hit.

  They were met backstage by Carlos Roulston, who gave them a curious look.

  “When I got your phone call I honestly thought it was a prank,” he said.

  “Better safe than sorry,” said Chief Alec.

  “So there’s been a threat? Is it credible?”

  “Very credible,” said Chase as he shot a look at Odelia.

  Roulston nodded. “I hired some extra people so we should have everything covered. Appreciate the heads-up. Let’s just hope your source was wrong and things go smoothly.”