Chase laughed. “Let me guess: Fred Kramer?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Looks like Vesta will get her free kitchen remodel after all.”

  “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?”

  “For you? Fifty bucks—a real bargain!”

  Scarlett eyed her friend narrowly, but Vesta pointedly ignored her.

  “Listen, Vesta,” said Father Reilly as he took out his wallet, “I want back in.”

  “Back in what?” asked Vesta as she accepted a crispy fifty-dollar note.

  “The watch! I’m hearing so many good things about you—and Scarlett, of course,” he added with a nod in the latter’s direction. “I want to do my part to keep our community safe, the way you and Scarlett have so valiantly been doing. So what do you say?”

  “Let me think about it,” said Vesta as she handed the priest his collar.

  Father Reilly’s face lit up with a smile. “Great. You won’t regret this, Vesta. I’m highly motivated to go out and fight crime again. Oh, and while you’re at it, consider taking Wilbur back, too, will you? I know he’s raring to go.”

  Vesta nodded, and they watched Father Reilly get back on his bike and ride off.

  Scarlett turned to her friend. “Fifty bucks! Are you serious?”

  “Safety comes at a price, Scarlett.”

  “You just sold one to Fido Siniawski for twenty bucks!”

  “It’s called inflation.”

  “You bought those collars for a buck apiece!”

  “So? I want to buy us a new car for the watch and cars don’t come cheap, you know. Collars! Get your collars! Keep your pets safe from the Hampton Cove catnapper!”

  Scarlett shook her head. “You’re something else.”

  Vesta grinned. “Thanks for the compliment. Now don’t just stand there—sell some collars before word gets out that the catnapper’s already been caught!”

  That night, Odelia sat down for dinner with not only her own family, but also Hampton Cove’s resident Kitchen King and his wife, the lovely Mrs. Grace Kramer, formerly known as Grace Bunyon, though Odelia decided to keep that information to herself, as she didn’t think Mrs. Kramer would enjoy being reminded of the time she went through life as the wife of Karl Bunyon.

  Mom and Gran had done their utmost to put an impressive dinner on the table, and their guests were suitably impressed with the French onion pork chops, green beans with almonds and caramelized onions and the homemade creamed potatoes. And for dessert there was peach cobbler and chocolate gooey butter cookies. Fred Kramer was as suave and garrulous as he was in the TV spots that had made him and his company famous, and he and his elegant wife Grace made the perfect dinner guests.

  Fred was extremely grateful that Gran and Scarlett, who was also present, had saved his business from ruin, as he now called it. He’d talked things over with his IT department people, and it turned out that Scarlett’s nephew had indeed been able to thwart the attack by being in the right place at the right time and doing the right thing.

  “I’m sorry for doubting you, my dear Mrs. Muffin,” said Fred now as he put down his utensils after having eaten his fill. “When my IT guy told me that Tex Poole was behind the attack, and then you told me that whole story, I wasn’t sure who to believe! But it’s pretty obvious to me now that you saved me a heck of a lot of grief.”

  “And a lot of money!” said Gran proudly.

  “A million dollars,” said Grace Kramer, shaking her red curls in astonishment. “Were you really going to have to pay that amount of money, darling?”

  “Yeah, looks like,” said Fred ruefully. “Turns out these ransomware attacks are becoming more and more frequent and more and more sophisticated, and the people behind it are really good. So it’s almost inevitable that either you lose access to your entire computer system, and start from scratch, or that you pay through the nose.”

  “And if you do pay, what guarantee do you have that they’ll give you back access to the computers?” asked Marge.

  “Apparently these people are crooks but they’re also savvy business people. They know that if they don’t do as they promise, people will stop paying. So they actually are true to their word, as strange as it may sound.”

  “Do all companies pay?” asked Marge as she poured Mr. Kramer some more wine.

  “From what I can tell, many of them actually do, Mrs. Poole.”

  “Yeah, it’s true,” said Chase. “Plenty of small business owners are attacked and many don’t even report it to the police anymore. I think the numbers are staggering, in fact.”

  “But who’s behind all these attacks?” asked Odelia, intrigued by this story, and vowing to write an article about it in a future edition of the Gazette.

  “Well, mostly these cybercriminals operate from abroad,” said Uncle Alec, who was, of course, also present—he never missed an opportunity to put his feet under the table at his sister and brother-in-law’s place. “Eastern Germany and Russia mostly. In other words, tough to get our hands on them.”

  “This is just terrible,” said Marge, shaking her head.

  “Yeah, it is pretty scary,” said Fred. “You suddenly stand to lose your entire business overnight. And we at Kramer Kitchen Kreation may run a successful business, but a million dollars is a lot of money, and would put a serious dent in our profits for the year.”

  “At least this time the criminals didn’t get what they wanted,” said Scarlett, and raised her glass in a salute. “To Vesta Muffin, who once again showed that she is a true neighborhood watch leader, now even expanding into cyberspace!”

  Everyone laughed, except Uncle Alec, who had never been a big fan of the watch.

  “To Vesta,” said the Kitchen King. “Thank you, my dear lady. And I’ll be sure to translate my gratitude into a healthy discount on your kitchen remodel.”

  When dinner was over, and Tex was getting their guests’ coats, Grace Kramer turned to Odelia. “I heard you’ve been in touch with my ex-husband,” she said, a slightly stilted smile on her face.

  “Yeah, their cat had gone missing, and I was lucky enough to find it for them.”

  “Let me give you a piece of advice, Miss Poole. Don’t get involved with Karl. And especially don’t believe a word the man says.”

  “Oh? And why is that?”

  “Did he tell you that he stole from Fred? We both used to work for him, Karl as Fred’s accountant, and me as his secretary. But that was before Fred discovered that Karl had been stealing from him. He should have gone to the police, but Fred is a good man, and he didn’t want to make things difficult for Karl, even though I told him to press charges.”

  “You were still married to Karl when this happened?”

  “I was. The whole business opened my eyes to what kind of man Karl is. I couldn’t stay with him after what I discovered. The stealing, the lying.” She shrugged. “Fred showed me what kind of man I’d married, and that was it. I never looked back, and I’ve never been happier. So please be careful, Miss Poole,” she said as she accepted her coat from Odelia’s dad. “The man talks a good talk, but he’s wicked.”

  And with these words, she strode out in the wake of her husband.

  18

  That night, we were all having a good time at cat choir, when suddenly Clarice appeared next to me, seemingly out of nowhere. Clarice has that tendency to simply materialize. I don’t know how she does it, but it’s a most disconcerting experience. First there’s nothing, and then suddenly she’s there. And she can disappear again in just the same way—just like a ghost.

  “I found another dead body, Max,” she announced.

  I did a double-take. “You did what?”

  “Another dead body. I don’t know what it is with this town, but I keep finding dead bodies. First that body that was buried out in the woods, and now this new one.”

  “You found another body in the woods?” I asked, leading her aside where we could talk without being overheard. If there’s one thing that’s disadvantageous about cat choir is that it’s filled with cats, and since cats like to spy and gossip more than anything, there’s nothing that you can discuss without it being all over town within minutes.

  “No, this time I found it at the bottom of an elevator shaft,” said Clarice, who was talking about this dead body as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “I was minding my own business as usual, and I happened to pass this new construction site on Carmel Street. And since these builders usually have nothing better to do than to sit around and eat, I figured I just might take a look at their dumpster—you’d be amazed what you can find in building site dumpsters. I once found an entire lobster there. And so I was hunting around for another precious find when I happened to smell something dead and decaying. And so naturally I went in search of the source of the smell.”

  “Naturally,” I agreed, even though if I smelled something dead and decaying, I’d run a mile. But then that’s me, of course. One of those areas where Clarice and I differ.

  “And that’s when I found him.”

  “Him? So it’s a him?”

  “Yep. Some dead dude, lying at the bottom of an elevator shaft, dead as a dodo.”

  “Can you tell me exactly where you found this dead dude?” I asked dutifully, already figuring out how to reach Odelia and get the ball rolling on a rescue attempt—for in spite of Clarice’s words the man might not be dead yet, and could still be saved.

  Clarice said, “I can do you one better. I’ll take you there. It’s not far from here.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Show us the way, Clarice.”

  And so we set out in Clarice’s wake: me, Dooley, Harriet and Brutus.

  Clarice was right: it was only a ten-minute walk from the park where cat choir likes to engage in its nocturnal activities. And as we looked down into that elevator shaft, which was still under construction, I had to admit she’d been right on the money: this man was indeed very much dead and unfortunately medical assistance would be to no avail.

  I sighed. “A lot of dead people are turning up in our town lately.”

  “Only two dead people,” said Dooley. “Two is not a lot, is it?”

  “Yeah, Max,” said Harriet, “one swallow doesn’t make a summer, and two dead bodies don’t make a massacre.”

  “Good one, babe,” said Brutus with a chuckle.

  “Well, this is where I leave you, guys,” said Clarice. “You’ll take it from here, I trust?”

  “Yeah, thanks, Clarice,” I said.

  “And if you find more dead bodies, please tell us,” said Dooley.

  Clarice smiled. “Rest assured I will, Dooley.”

  “Oh, wait, Clarice,” I said. “You didn’t happen to see anyone else around, did you?”

  “No one. Why?”

  “Well, it looks like this guy accidentally tumbled down this shaft, but you never know. He might also have been pushed.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” said Brutus. “This is clearly an accident, Max.”

  “Yeah, obviously,” said Harriet, who was already losing interest in the dead guy now that the novelty had worn off.

  “Max sees murder and mayhem everywhere,” Brutus explained to Clarice. “If he sees a dead body, immediately he assumes there must have been foul play involved. Whereas most people simply die, you know, either of natural causes or by accident.”

  “I’m not saying he didn’t die by accident,” I said. “I’m just trying to cover all my bases.”

  “And a good thing, too,” said Clarice. “But I have to disappoint you, Max. There was no one around when I stumbled upon the guy. So I’ll be seeing you around, yeah?”

  “Take care, Clarice,” I said. “And thank you!” I called after her.

  She held up her tail and made a little acknowledging swish-swish.

  “And now the hard part,” I said. “One of us has to run home and get Odelia out here.”

  “Why one of us?” asked Harriet. “Why can’t we all go home and let Odelia deal with this? Or Chase? It is their job to do this kind of thing, isn’t it? Not ours.”

  “At least one of us has to stay here in case someone shows up,” I explained.

  “Who’ll show up? It’s the middle of the night. Nobody is going to show up.”

  “Oh, I see what he’s getting at,” said Brutus. “Max is thinking that if this was murder, the killer might come back and try to dispose of the body. Isn’t that what you’re thinking, Max?”

  I admitted that I was thinking along those lines, and they both laughed.

  “Oh, Max,” said Harriet when her laughter had expended itself. “You’re too funny. We already told you that this isn’t murder but an accident, so nobody is going to show up and nobody is going to dispose of any bodies.”

  “Still,” I insisted. “I’d feel much better if one of us stayed behind and guarded the body.”

  “Oh, have it your way,” said Harriet with an eyeroll. “You stay behind then, and we’ll go home and get some sleep.”

  “And tell Odelia, right?” I asked, just to make sure.

  “Of course we’ll tell Odelia,” said Harriet with another eyeroll. “What do you take us for? Noobs?”

  Brutus patted my back, almost causing me to buckle under the onslaught. “You just stick around, Maxie baby,” he said with a grin. “And we’ll take care of everything.”

  And with these words, they took off, still laughing at my expense. “Dooley, are you coming?” Harriet yelled over her shoulder.

  “No, I think I’ll stay here with Max,” Dooley yelled back.

  “Suit yourself!” said Brutus, and off they were.

  For a moment, silence reigned, since I wasn’t talking but thinking about what had happened, and Dooley wasn’t talking but thinking about whatever he was thinking about, and obviously the dead man wasn’t talking since he was dead. Then Dooley said, “I hope they won’t forget to tell Odelia, otherwise we’ll be here all night.”

  “I’m sure they won’t forget,” I said.

  “Do you really think the man was murdered, Max?”

  “I don’t know, Dooley. That’s for the police to decide. But if he was murdered, it’s important that we guard the scene, so nothing gets disturbed.”

  “It’s strange though, isn’t it, Max?”

  “What is, Dooley?”

  “Two dead bodies. What if we keep finding dead bodies from now on, one per night?”

  “I’d say the chances of that happening are very slim indeed.”

  “I hope so. If we find a dead body every night, that’s three hundred and sixty-five bodies a year.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “How many people are there in Hampton Cove, Max?”

  “Um, I’d say about fifteen thousand.”

  “That means that in just a few years the entire population of Hampton Cove will be extinct, and only us cats will be left if this keeps up.”

  I laughed. “Your math is flawed, Dooley, and the chances of that happening are nil.”

  “But what happens if the whole town dies out, Max? Who’s going to take care of us?”

  “I’m sure that won’t happen, Dooley, and even if it does, there are still people left in the world who’ll be able to take care of us.”

  “But what if all the people in all the towns in all the world suddenly end up at the bottom of a deep hole, Max, or at the bottom of an elevator shaft, who’s going to take care of us then?”

  “Well, I guess then we’ll just have to join Clarice in the woods, and we’ll have to learn to fend for ourselves.”

  “Oh,” he said, ruminating on that unappealing prospect. “Well, let’s hope you’re right, and it doesn’t happen. Cause I don’t think I’d enjoy living with Clarice in the woods and eating from dumpsters.”

  “If all the people in all the towns in all the world are dead, Dooley,” I said, “there won’t be any more dumpsters, and Clarice will have to find her food some other way, and so will we.”

  “Oh, no, Max!” he said, suddenly realizing the awful repercussions of his gloomy post-apocalyptic view, which seemed to come straight from a Stephenie Meyer novel. “That’s terrible!”

  But lucky for me, just then Odelia and Chase arrived and came hurrying over to where we were guarding the dead man, and I didn’t have to speculate anymore on these Walking Dead scenarios of doom!

  19

  Odelia looked around the small but cozy little studio. It hadn’t taken them long to find out that the man found at the bottom of the elevator shaft was named Darryl Farmer and that he lived with his girlfriend in a modest apartment in Leighton Heights. She and Chase had gone over there to talk to the girlfriend, and break the bad news to her.

  “I knew this would happen one day,” said the girlfriend, whose name was Lucy Vale. She had long hair done up in dreadlocks, and was very pretty and petite, dressed in a flowing maroon robe. “I told him that if he kept this up, he’d end up dead.”