“Oh, she’s nice enough, I guess, but not as nice as Chickie. Chickie was special, and we shared a very special bond. And now Nickie seems eager to replicate that bond but it can’t be done. I can’t simply transfer my affections to a new human at the drop of a hat. It takes time. I have to mourn Chickie and then, maybe, I’ll be ready to let a new human into my heart.”

  I understood where he was coming from. If anything would ever happen to Odelia, I’d have a hard time transferring my affections, too. It probably couldn’t even be done.

  “At least you can stay in the same home, with the same family,” I said. “Imagine having to move into a completely different home with a different family that you don’t know. “

  “Yeah, I guess there’s that,” he admitted. “Though they’re going to sell the house and move west again. Yuki never liked it out here. Too chilly. And not enough sun. She prefers California, and that’s where we’re going after the funeral.”

  “So you’re all moving away?”

  “Yeah, the whole circus is heading west.”

  “And how do you feel about that?”

  He shrugged. “It’s okay. Maybe even for the best. After all, with Chickie gone the house just doesn’t feel the same. And being in these familiar places I’m constantly reminded of her, you know. So maybe it’s better to move someplace new, where everything won’t remind me so much of her.”

  We decided to leave Boyce Catt to pine for Chickie in peace.

  “So it’s true that dogs feel their human’s loss more intensely than cats,” I said.

  “He does seem to miss Chickie a lot,” said Dooley.

  “Poor doggie.”

  “Yeah, poor little doggie.”

  Look, I know I’ve said in the past that I don’t like dogs all that much, but there are always exceptions to the rule, and clearly here was one of those exceptions. Boyce Catt was nice. In fact it wasn’t too much to say he was almost like a cat. An honorary cat.

  We wandered around a little aimlessly, and decided to take a look inside. Maybe Boyce Catt had a nice bowl of food he hadn’t touched. So we walked in through the kitchen door and went in search of Boyce Catt’s bowl. The kitchen didn’t yield any snacks or nibbles, though, and then Dooley had a bright idea—he was on fire today.

  “Remember how Boyce Catt said he lives with Nickie now?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So maybe his food is in her room!”

  “Great thinking, Dooley,” I said, and so we padded up the stairs.

  I could hear Odelia’s voice coming from one of the rooms. She was talking to Chickie’s sister. But Dooley and I decided to follow our noses this time, and soon we had struck gold. Prime kibble, not fifty feet away. We quickly found ourselves in a nice set of rooms, and to our elation one of the rooms had been set up as a playroom for Boyce Catt. There were several bowls all brimming with tasty bits, and immediately we started salivating.

  “Looks like Boyce Catt decided to stop eating,” said Dooley.

  “Looks like,” I agreed, as all of the bowls were untouched.

  “A loss like that will do that to a pet.”

  “Yes, it absolutely will.”

  We were silent for a beat, then shared a look. “Terrible waste of good food,” said Dooley.

  “Yeah, terrible waste,” I echoed.

  And so we tucked in. What? We’re environmentally conscious cats. We don’t like to see perfectly good food go to waste just because its recipient is too sad to eat it.

  After we’d eaten our fill—and left plenty for Boyce Catt, I might add—we checked the rest of Nickie’s apartment.

  “Always nice to see how the other half lives,” I told Dooley, and he agreed wholeheartedly.

  There was a nice, big bedroom, an adjoining bathroom, a salon where Nickie could watch television curled up on her couch, and of course a large dressing room, with rows and rows of clothes. There was even one of those nice vanities with a dresser attached to it and Dooley had quickly jumped on top, presumably to check his look in the mirror.

  Odelia had promised him a picture in her newspaper, as the cat who’d discovered the letter, and he was eager to look his absolute best for what he presumed was a photoshoot with a professional photographer. I could have told him Odelia would probably pick one of the pictures she already had of him, but had decided not to burst his bubble.

  I jumped up onto the vanity, too. I glanced around, but there wasn’t all that much to see. A box of jewelry, an extensive selection of nail polish and lipstick, sets of eyelashes. And as I jumped down again, I accidentally jumped into a drawer instead, and found myself knee-deep in more jewelry. With an eyeroll I jumped down, Dooley following suit.

  “Let’s call it a day,” I said. “We ate, we sniffed around—time to get out of here.”

  “Do you think I need a haircut, Max?” asked Dooley as we plodded down the stairs.

  “A haircut? Why? You look fine, Dooley.”

  “For my picture. It’s not every day that I have my picture taken for the newspaper.”

  “We’re not show cats, Dooley. We don’t dress up so we can look good for the camera.”

  “Maybe a ribbon? A nice pink ribbon? Or a collar with flowers on it?”

  “You look fine,” Dooley,” I said decidedly. “You don’t need ribbons. Just be yourself.”

  “All right,” he said dubiously.

  We arrived at the front door just as Odelia and Chase did, and if Yuki and Nickie thought it strange to see two cats traipsing about their home, they didn’t mention it.

  As we were driving back to town, Odelia mentioned how she’d helped Nickie look for Chickie’s crescent-moon earrings but hadn’t had any luck. And that’s when a memory stirred. Something important. Only it didn’t immediately come to me, and then when Dooley started talking about pink ribbons and collars with flowers on them again, and asking Odelia if she thought he needed a haircut, the thought went out of my head.

  34

  The wake was a peculiar affair. I don’t think pets were necessarily welcome there, but Odelia didn’t care what the funeral home director said. She wanted us present and keeping our eyes peeled. Why, I didn’t know, as the case was now probably closed.

  Harriet and Brutus were there, and me and Dooley, of course, and so was Boyce Catt. The only pet the Hays hadn’t brought was Mark the Peacock. Very sensibly they’d decided to leave him at home, otherwise the wake would have turned into a real zoo.

  Laron and his wife were there, and Charlie, of course, though they weren’t speaking to the Pooles, clearly blaming them for Jamie’s arrest. I didn’t think this was fair, to be honest. After all, Jamie only had herself to blame. She shouldn’t have murdered her former best friend.

  The pets had all been relegated to a space near the front of the room, and so we sat on the floor, next to Boyce Catt, who couldn’t stop howling, unfortunately, and after a while was discreetly led away by a well-dressed man who worked for the funeral home.

  The wake was one endless line of people wanting to say goodbye to Chickie, who was a very popular person. Several people had flown in especially for the wake and tomorrow’s funeral. Finally, Harriet and Brutus decided to leave, due to a bladder emergency—the wake did drag on a little too long for my taste—and then it was only me and Dooley. The room had emptied out at this point, with most people talking softly in the next room, reminiscing and sharing stories of Chickie.

  A lone figure walked up to the coffin, which had been placed on a small dais, surrounded by little white flowers. The figure, who turned out to be Nickie, now stood gazing down at the dead pop singer’s body.

  “Odd, isn’t it, Max?” said Dooley.

  “What is, Dooley?” I said, starting to feel a pressing concern in the region of my bladder, too.

  “She doesn’t look dead. She looks as if she’s about to wake up any moment now and burst into song and dance.”

  He was right. The mortician had done a great job and Chickie looked fresh as a daisy. As if she wasn’t dead but merely taking a light nap, soon to rise, happy and refreshed.

  “I’m so sorry,” suddenly spoke Nickie, after darting a quick glance around her. “But you left me no choice, Chickie! All those years treating me like I was your servant and not your little sister. Anyone could see it wouldn’t end well. And now they’ve gone and arrested that stupid Jamie. Serves her well. I never liked her anyway, and neither did you, did you, Chickie? Anyway, I’m sure you’ll learn to forgive me, and I have to admit I’ve felt nothing but relief since you’ve been gone. I thought I’d feel intense grief but so far, nothing. Only relief. Relief finally to be free again. Free to be my own person, and not just Chickie’s sister. Your personal slave. And I promise you we’ll take care of your legacy, big sister. We’ll make sure you’re not forgotten, and money from all that music you made keeps rolling in. I’ll spend it all in your honor. Now rest peacefully, my sweet.” She reached out a hand and touched her sister’s face, then hurriedly tripped off again.

  Both Dooley and I just sat there, stunned.

  “Do you realize what just happened, Dooley?” I said finally.

  “I think Uncle Alec arrested the wrong person, Max,” he said.

  “I think so, too.”

  And then I realized something else. “Dooley, I totally forgot, but those missing crescent-moon earrings Odelia mentioned? I think I’ve seen them in Nickie’s dressing room. She must have taken them from her sister and kept them for herself.”

  “We have to tell Odelia.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  “She won’t be happy.”

  “Why not? We just caught Chickie’s killer.”

  “Yeah, but after we caught the wrong killer first.”

  I patted his shoulder consolingly. “It can happen to anyone, Dooley. Uncle Alec arrested the wrong killer first, when he decided that stalker guy did it.”

  But Dooley looked genuinely upset. “I really thought I’d caught the right one, Max.”

  “I know, Dooley. But at least now you caught the right one.”

  “There is that,” he admitted.

  Moments later, Odelia returned, looking for us.

  “Hey, you guys,” she said. “Time to go home.”

  She must have sensed something was wrong, for she suddenly turned serious.

  “What’s the matter?”

  And when we told her about Nickie’s little goodbye speech to her sister, her face turned even more grave than before.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” she said.

  35

  Nickie Hay was humming one of her sister’s hits as she sat in front of her vanity and admired her new hairstyle. Her hairstylist had fashioned it for the wake and she loved it. It had cost a pretty penny but that was fine. She was rolling in money now, with no one to tell her not to spend it. Tomorrow at the funeral she was going to give a tearful farewell to her big sister, and then it was off to California where a new life awaited.

  She opened the dresser drawer and picked out her gram’s earrings, then after a moment’s hesitation put them in. Admiring her look in the mirror, she smiled.

  “They look much better on me than on you, big sis,” she murmured.

  Suddenly she thought she heard a noise behind her. She looked up and was startled to find that Mom had entered the room, and brought that annoying reporter with her.

  Quickly she removed the earrings and returned them to the drawer.

  “It’s no use, Nickie,” said her mother. “I know you took your sister’s earrings. There’s no point denying.”

  “Hi, Odelia,” she said, ignoring her mother’s comment. “To what do we owe the pleasure? Again?” she added with a touch of pique. When were the police finally going to leave them in peace?

  “I know what you did, Nickie,” said Odelia. “I know you killed your sister. Because you felt oppressed by her, and because without her you would finally be able to shine.”

  Nickie stared at the woman. How did she… “You’re kidding, right? Only this morning you told us you caught the killer. That Jamie was the one that did it.”

  “Oh, stop with the charade,” said Mom. “The police had the funeral home bugged. They were hoping the real killer would expose themselves, and you did.”

  Nickie’s heart skipped a beat and she suddenly felt hot and cold at the same time. She couldn’t breathe. “The police did what?” she asked in a strangled voice. Her hand had stolen out and was casually opening one of the dresser drawers.

  “We heard what you said, Nickie. Your confession. Word for word. So you see? There’s no point denying.”

  “Did you come alone?” Nickie asked, trying to see beyond Odelia and her mom.

  “The police are right outside,” said Mom. “They wanted to give us a moment before they arrested you. Why, Nickie? Why did you do it?”

  Nickie had her hand already fastened around the pearl-inlaid grip of a small handgun. The one she’d bought as part of a matching set. She and Chickie had gotten them after they’d suffered another stalker scare. But she quickly realized she couldn’t get out of this one. If what Odelia said was true, and the police were waiting outside…

  She decided the jig was up and fixed her mother with a pleading look. “Don’t you see, Mom? I had to get rid of her.”

  Mom heaved a stifled sob, as if only now realizing it was really true. That she really had killed her one and only sibling.

  “I don’t understand. How could you?”

  “Easy. In fact I’ve been wanting to do it for a long time,” she said softly. “You couldn’t see it, because she was always your favorite, but she had a controlling and monstrous side. She treated me as her personal slave from the moment she had her first hit. Told me what to do, what to wear, what to say. Never once did she stop to think I was a person, with my own dreams and desires. She always came first. I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

  “So why didn’t you leave? Why didn’t you tell her you didn’t want to be her personal assistant anymore and left?”

  Nickie laughed. “Did you ever try to say no to Chickie, Mom? You know what she was like. I told her once I was thinking about using my MBA. Maybe start my own company. She got so upset. Accused me of trying to sabotage her career. Said this was a family business and I better get in line or else. Problem was, because I’d been living in her shadow for so long I wasn’t even sure what exactly I wanted to do with my life. What person I was without her. She suffocated me, Mom,” she said, a quiver in her voice.

  “But… you killed your sister, honey. You… murdered her.”

  “I know. It was the only way to get rid of her. The only way to be free. And you know what? It feels good. For the first time in a long while I’m starting to feel like myself again.”

  “You do realize you’re going to jail, don’t you, Nickie?” asked Odelia.

  “Even in jail I’ll be better off than being Chickie’s slave,” she said, and meant it.

  There was a squeaky sound, and Odelia said, “Did you get all that, Chase?”

  “Loud and clear,” a staticky voice sounded through the room. “We’re coming in.”

  Nickie relaxed her hand and dropped the gun back in its hiding place, then closed the drawer. She wasn’t going to get out of there, gun blazing. That was so not her style.

  “Why did you steal your sister’s earrings?” asked Mom. “That, I don’t understand.”

  Her expression hardened. “They were never Chickie’s, Mom. Gram gave them to both of us, so we could share them. But of course Chickie took them for herself, even though she knew how much they meant to me. So I took them back. She wore them long enough. Now it’s my turn.”

  “They won’t let you wear them in prison, honey,” said Mom, looking heartbroken.

  “I’ll wear them when I get out.”

  “Oh, honey,” said Mom and shook her head, then burst into tears.

  “Cheer up, Mom,” she said. “You lost one daughter, but you gained another.” She smiled. “And I’m finally happy. Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

  Epilogue

  The Poole family was gathered in Marge and Tex’s backyard, the humans enjoying Tex’s talents at the grill, and the cats going over the events of the past week. Things had suddenly turned extremely eventful. With the death of Chickie Hay and the arrest of her sister, the world media had suddenly descended upon Hampton Cove en masse.

  Nickie had asked to be allowed to attend her sister’s funeral, and Uncle Alec had finally agreed, which had created quite a ruckus. The Mayor hadn’t been happy. He also hadn’t been happy with the ruse about the funeral home being bugged, which it hadn’t. It was still better than the truth: that two cats had overheard Nickie’s confession. And the ruse had worked: Nickie had made a full confession, this time in court in front of the judge.

  Jamie had been released from prison, with apologies from Uncle Alec on behalf of the entire police department, and she and Charlie had immediately left town, along with Laron and Shannon Weskit. They probably didn’t want to risk being arrested again. They’d threatened to sue the police department but I don’t think they’d go through with it. Uncle Alec’s suspicions had been well founded, and the man wasn’t infallible. Dooley had felt bad about the whole thing for a while, but I’d told him we all make mistakes, and in the end we did solve the murder. When at first you don’t succeed and all that, right?

  “They turned me down!” said Gran. “Can you believe it? I invited Laron and his wife over for dinner and they turned me down flat! Didn’t even apologize or nothing. Skipped town like a couple of crooks.”

  “Celebrities don’t like to spend time in jail,” said Uncle Alec. “It makes them look bad in the eyes of their fanbase.”

  “Except if you’re a gangster rapper,” said Tex, expertly flipping a burger patty and sending it sailing straight into the bushes.

  “Tex is right,” said Chase as he walked up to the grill and graciously took the tongs from Tex. “Gangster rappers want to be arrested. It’s good for their street cred.”